#and a science diagram of a bunch o fish :)

[molabuddy]

i was suddenly consumed w the desire to become a cool wizard so i drew myself as a cool wizard :)

#arts #my art #my ocs #my sona #wizard #im gonna go .... do some wizardry >:) #graphics on the inside+outside of the hat nd cape were from google lol . free images of water+clouds #and a science diagram of a bunch o fish :)

[stormquill]

debt-free | chapter ten [Tony Stark/Reader]

You tasted like coffee and faded lip gloss; he tasted like vodka and day-old despair.

In which an unexpected late-night rendezvous at your University library ends up with you in way over your goddamn head.

Credits: Beta'd by @l0kt0n. Follow the blog / AO3 mirror @debt--free.

Somehow, you thought ‘safehouses’ were supposed to be inconspicuous.

Though nowhere near as grandiose as Stark’s home in Malibu, the place you’d taken temporary refuge could still house a family of twelve quite comfortably. The elegant outdoor landscaping and impeccable interior design made the building feel more like a four-star hotel than covert asylum, but you figured it made sense—if Stark had to go into hiding, he’d be doing it in style.

You and Hansen sat across from each other, a small table and two untouched coffees between you. You both looked little worse for wear, but you’d been lucky to escape the day’s events with nothing more than a handful of scrapes and bruises. Stark wasn’t looking much better himself, but unlike the two of you, he was on his feet and moving, pacing around the room with all the patience of an anxious cat; you could practically hear the gears grinding in his head, processing everything Hansen had confessed about Killian and their company on the car ride over.

It was strange to think that, less than a couple of hours ago, you were leaving the hospital with Stark, having successfully convinced him to take a break and let you handle the meeting with Hansen.

Five henchmen and one destroyed cafe later, you knew he must have been regretting that decision.

“So the Mandarin is using your Extremis for his attacks?” Stark asked.

“Yeah,” said Hansen. “Those bombings? That’s exactly what happens when you let it get unstable enough.”

“Incendiary devices leave remnants. A million-acre forest fire can be tracked down to a single lit cigarette—it’s forensics, it’s a science. That means there’s evidence at the theater explosion. Something I can use to connect the attacks back to AIM.”

“You won’t find any evidence. Just like they wouldn’t have found any at any of the other sites.”

“Yeah, why’s that?”

“Extremis isn’t just some incendiary device, like a bomb or a flare, it’s.” She folded her arms and shifted in her seat. “It’s a form of genetic manipulation. It needs a living host for the thermodynamic hypercharge to work. If the host can control it, Extremis can give them regenerative abilities, enhance their physical performance—but if the host can’t control it...”

Stark made a comical explosion noise.

She shut her eyes and winced away from him, as if the thought alone made her sick. “Point is, the Mandarin is weaponizing my tech to make super-soldiers and living bombs, tech Killian just handed to him on a silver platter. And I don’t know what I can do.”

Keeping silent, you’d watched the two of them go back and forth since Stark started his pseudo-interrogation. Still fueled by outrage over Hogan’s incident, Stark was looking for information, for inconsistencies, for anything he could use as an excuse to get out there and track down the perpetrators. Hansen, on the other hand, was wondering if seeking help was worth the trouble if all they were going to do was talk in circles.

The entire situation was way above your paygrade—but the gears in your head were turning, too.

“You said Extremis is a form of genetic manipulation,” you spoke up. “How is it administered, exactly? Radiotherapy?”

Hansen turned back to you, blinking the weariness from her eyes to try and refocus on your conversation. “Uh—no, intravenous. It’s an intravenous agent.”

“So it works like a virus? Enters the bloodstream, attacks the brain, creates a biochemical reaction.”

“More or less.”

“Then, hypothetically,” you straightened up, “you could develop a vaccine for it.”

The suggestion gave her pause. “I don’t know, maybe? I haven’t gotten anywhere with Extremis’s development in over a decade, I’m not sure how plausible it is to try reverse-coding a half-finished product.”

“I think I might be able to help.”

Your words had gotten both Stark and Hansen’s attention.

You cleared your throat, mulling the words over in your head to make sure you got them right. “If Extremis evokes a thermodynamic reaction that accelerates cellular function, reversing it means causing mass cellular deceleration, which...just so happens to be the unwanted byproduct of my current experimentation.”

The sudden light of inspiration in your eyes now sparked in hers. “You can’t maintain neurogenesis because of entropic decay.”

“And entropic decay is exactly what you need to reverse Extremis’s unstable effects,” you continued. “Obviously, the numbers will need major tweaking, and we’ll need to run some tests—”

“We’ll need samples,” Hansen agreed, shuffling forward in her chair. “There’s not enough time to recreate Extremis from scratch, not with the Mandarin’s recent threats.”

“Where would we get those?”

“Closest AIM headquarters would be in Houston, but...you don’t understand, Killian’s got eyes everywhere—if we hop on a plane, o—or a bus, he’ll see us coming from miles away.”

“Honey,” Stark interrupted, rather loudly, “can I speak to you in private for a moment?”

You were so wrapped up in your discussion with Hansen, you’d forgotten Stark was even there.

His request took you by surprise, but you followed his lead down the hallway. The way Hansen watched in confusion as the two of you disappeared around a corner did not escape your notice.

You entered the room, and shut the door behind you.

Segments of Mark 42 had been disassembled and spread across the floor for post-battle diagnostics. Toeing around the maze of parts, Stark reached the nearby couch, and lazily straddled the armrest. He stretched an arm out in front of him; one of the suit’s gloves flew across the room and attached itself to his hand like a magnet, red and silver metal spreading across his fingers and up his entire forearm.

“Haven’t seen that trick before,” you said, impressed.

“Neat, right? Had to bring the baby—he’s the only one who’d fit in your trunk.”

A mass of images projected themselves from his forearm panel, drowning the room’s ambient lighting with the bright blue glow of various interfaces. Stark gestured through the windows and touch screens, navigating the arrays of diagrams and news articles filling the room around him, his attention maneuvering quickly from one set of panels to the next.

“What are you thinking, doc?” he asked, without looking at you.

“About what?”

“About Maya.”

“I want to help her, if I can.” You made your way over and sat by his side, folding up your legs off the floor. “I mean, having the worst, most volatile parts of your research stolen by a bunch of power-hungry men and used in terrorist attacks? That...fucking sucks.”

“So you trust her?”

“You don’t?”

He clicked his tongue. “Just feels like there’s something she’s not telling us.”

Falling silent, you watched as he conducted his wordless research. Hansen hadn’t given you any reason not to trust her—but in Stark’s world, you realized that must have been tragically naive.

“What do you think we should do, then?” you asked. “Send her back to Killian?”

“No, but I don’t know if getting you involved in this is the greatest idea.”

“I’m already involved. I was involved the moment I went to meet her instead of you.”

“That was a mistake,” he snapped. “I should’ve never let do you that, I should’ve never—”

“You didn’t let me do anything,” you shot back. “We’re both adults—we made a decision, together, and like it or not, here we are.”

“I definitely don’t have to like it. And I definitely don’t have to sit quiet while you hand over your life’s work to someone you just met two hours ago.”

The words took you by surprise.

Stark was worried about you, of course he was, but he was also worried about the integrity of your research—and his concern made sense. At the heart of it all, he was a fellow scientist who’d been with you every step of the way—from your University research proposal, to your doctoral thesis, to the months upon months of sleepy, unproductive nights filled with failed experiments and paperwork to nowhere. He was just as invested in your work as you were.

And he didn’t want to see you compromised.

“I’m not like you, Mr. Stark,” you said. “I’m not a genius in any sense of the word. I don’t have a lot of things to offer.”

“That’s not—”

“You know what I mean,” you interrupted. Fishing for compliments wasn’t what you were aiming for, here. “My research...hasn’t gone anywhere. It hasn’t gone anywhere in a while, and I’ve been worrying a lot about whether or not I’m wasting my time. But Doctor Hansen—she’s been working on this one project for over ten years. That’s how much faith she has in it. In herself. Maybe I have something she needs. Maybe she knows something I don’t. You know my work almost as well as I do, Mr. Stark—if you think any part of my research can help her, I need you to let me try.”

Though he continued staring at the projected screens ahead of him, you could already read the answer in his expression.

Leaning up, you gently cradled a hand against his cheek, turning him to face you properly.

“You have to let me try,” you whispered.

“...you know, the last time I took your advice, you got a cafe blown up.”

You narrowed your eyes. “That cafe would’ve blown up with or without me there and you know it.”

“Crazy things happen once these suits get involved, sweetheart. It’s going to be dangerous.”

“I’m in a relationship with you, it comes with the territory.”

He smirked, softly.

And then his lips were on yours.

It felt like it had been ages since you’d last done this, but he kissed you, hard, and the contact set your nerves alight, just as it did every time.

He touched his forehead to yours, resigned, the worry weighing heavy in his eyes.

You rested another kiss against the side of his nose. “Stop thinking you have to do everything on your own. You’re not alone, remember?”

Realization dawned across his face like a new day.

Stark righted himself on the couch arm, clearing away the projections with an impatient swipe of his hand before replacing them a number pad and hitting speed-dial.

Before you could register what was happening, a video display appeared in the air as someone picked up the line.

The man on the other end glanced at Stark, then at you, and already looked exhausted.

“Evening, Colonel,” you said, sheepishly.

“Hi, Doctor. Tony. What’s up?”

Stark’s tone was clear and deliberate. “I have it on very good authority that your buddies over at Advanced Idea Mechanics have something to do with the Mandarin attacks.”

“Oh yeah, what authority?”

“An AIM executive told me so. She’s my hostage now, by the way—you sure you still don’t want me in on this?”

“Are you serious right—” With a loud, frustrated groan, Rhodes rubbed a hand over his face. “I told you, I am not in charge of this operation anymore.”

“But you’re second-in-charge, right? That’s almost as good.”

“Look, just because you can piss all over protocol, that doesn’t mean the rest of us can get away with it scott-free. There’s a chain of command—I cannot be discussing this with you on my own.”

“Well, not with that attitude.”

“I’m bringing him in.”

Stark’s face fell. “Wait, what?”

“You haven’t given me a choice, Tony.”

“Wait wait wait—nonononono—”

But the line was already dialing.

A second video screen appeared next to Rhodes. Bright blue eyes and short blonde hair came into view—a handsome face, boyish but strong, and trustworthy in a way you couldn’t quite explain. The man seemed out of breath as he answered the call; you could see a punching bag behind him, and a gleam of sweat on his brow.

You couldn’t have stopped yourself if you trIed. “Holy shit, it’s Captain America!”

Still catching his breath, Rogers gave you an impossibly charming smile. “Evening, ma’am.”

Meanwhile, Stark’s eyes rolled to the back of his skull. “Yeah—she’s easily impressed, don’t read too much into it—can we focus, here?”

“Captain Rogers,” Rhodes started, “Tony here’s captured an AIM executive who says the company’s dealing with the Mandarin.”

“What—you’ve taken an AIM rep hostage? Is this a civilian we’re talking about? Is that her?”

Rogers pointed at you with a boxing-wrapped hand. Your brain shorted out and you waved back, nervously.

Rhodes had a smile in his voice. “No, Captain, that’s Tony’s girlfriend.”

“Oh.” Smirking, Rogers offered you a nod. “My condolences, ma’am.”

“Watch it,” Stark warned.

“So you mean to say you brought two civilians into my investigation without my knowledge?”

“Sure did, mom. Hey—could you let me explain before you jump down my throat, maybe? The two of you might learn something.”

Rhodes looked as exasperated as always, but Rogers kept his patience, his composure clearly tempered by many past experiences with Stark.

“We’re listening.”

“The AIM exec is an old friend of mine who came to me for help, Dr. Maya Hansen. She says it’s their tech behind the bombings. There’s been three of them so far, right?”

“Only three have been made public. There’s actually been—”

“—nine attacks worldwide.” Stark brought up a holographic projection of a globe; certain areas around the world were marked with a bright red glow. “I found out the Mandarin attacks have a distinct heat signature—a very balmy 3000 degrees. Not many natural phenomena match the time frames and radii of impact from the Chinese Theater bombing. Why haven’t the other six been made public?”

“We’re trying not to cause a panic,” said Rhodes. “Especially since we don’t know how he’s doing it. We’re calling them bombings, but none of the fire investigations have turned up remnants of explosive devices.”

“It’s because he’s using people as bombs. Not suicide bombers—people injected with some kind of performance-enhancement virus, something that blows them up if it runs too hot. ”

“...you’re kidding.”

“Dr. Hansen told you this?”

Stark nodded. “Mandarin’s associated with the Ten Rings, same guys who threw me in a cave and wanted me to build things for them. Weapons of mass destruction are their bread and butter. Looks like they finally got their hands on something big.”

Rogers nodded again. “Any leads?”

“AIM has a global network with two headquarters in North America, Houston and Miami. Both good places to start digging.”

“And the third?”

“There’s a tenth heat signature that matches the profile, but predates all recent Mandarin attacks. It was marked as a suicide bombing, in some backwater town in Tennessee. I’m thinking it was ground zero. Might be worth checking out.”

“Understood. Colonel Rhodes will stay at his post with the President and continue trying to isolate the source of the Mandarin’s broadcast. I’ll investigate places of interest and get back to you with what I find.”

“Got it, Captain.”

“If you give me ten minutes, I can. Y’know.” Stark made little typing motions. “Sneak into AIM’s databases, save you guys some time.”

“You’ve done enough,” said Rogers. “Dr. Hansen is a person of interest in this investigation, and you’ve somehow managed to get your girlfriend involved. Your job right now is to keep the civilians safe until this is all over.”

“Yeaaaah, about that. There’s little thing I need to take care of in Houst—”

“Don’t let them out of your sight, Stark. Over and out.”

Both video feeds disconnected at once, throwing the bedroom back into its normal ambient lighting.

“You’re welcome!” Stark shouted at the now-empty room. He threw an arm up, hopeless. “Unbelievable.”

“At least you got help,” you offered, trying to cheer him up. “Now you don’t have to be in three places at once.”

“Nope. Just one. Ever been to Houston?”

“Um...” You weren’t sure where this was headed. “No, why?”

“Captain’s orders, remember? Can’t let either of you out of my sight.” He tilted his head to look at you. “Think that car of yours can make the trip?”

You returned his smile of malicious compliance tenfold.

“Hell yes, he can.”

#tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #mcu imagine #debt.free

[kingofthewilderwest]

I felt like talking about how science fiction alien names tend to contain underlying English sound patterns. So I did! Below, a transcript of what I basically said in the video:

One of the fun things about science fiction, fantasy, and other forms of fiction is the ability to create new worlds – and with it, new cultures. This often means creating new languages or at least new names for people, places, and special items. Something I’ve noticed from observing created names or alien languages… is that, even though they’re meant to sound “different” than English, they nevertheless retain a lot of innate principles and rules from the English language. Linguistic elements of the English language almost always seem to slip into these “different” alien words.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not complaining. I’m not even criticizing. I’m just observing, amused, as a linguist, what I see and hear. I don’t expect people to be accurate in how languages actually work when creating new, foreign names. In fact, it’s true that names are often modified by speakers of different languages to conform to their own language’s characteristics. English speakers say “France,” Tajik speakers say “Faronsa,” Khmer speakers say “Barang,” Amheric speakers say, “Ferenisayi,” and Nepali speakers say “Phrānsa.” Based upon the characteristics of each person’s language, how the word “France” is spoken by the French speakers gets modified into the new tongue. Languages that don’t have an “F” sound aren’t going to have an “f” at the start of their word for France. That’s how it works. So it’s not too terrible if a science fiction name has English characteristics; you could blame it on the “translation” from the alien language to how English speakers would pronounce it themselves.

However, if you happen to be curious about the discrepancies between how people create languages and names for their stories… versus what is linguistically accurate… I’m happy to share some of the common inaccuracies I’ve observed. You’re free - if you wish - to try to apply some of my commentary to your own worldbuilding to make your names feel more linguistically “realistic.” But I’m mostly just writing this for the fun of showing how a person’s innate, subconscious understanding of their native language (in this case, English) can influence how writers try to make alien names… and turn up just reproducing lots of the familiar rules from their native tongue. The internal grammar structure of English just keeps slipping in!

To make the content of this post more manageable, I’m only going to talk about inaccurate sound properties of science fiction names (that is, their phonetics and phonology). I don’t have time to talk about sentence structure or other linguistic elements. We’ll focus just on sound patterns here!

1. Stress systems identical to English

In English and many other languages, some syllables are stressed - or pronounced louder/longer/etc. - in words and sentences. For instance, the first syllable in “butter” is stressed and the second syllable in “computer” is stressed. Languages often have rules about what syllable gets stressed within a word and/or within a sentence, and it can admittedly get complex. Language stress systems vary pretty widely between languages.

But almost all science fiction and fantasy names I’ve come across use the exact same syllable structure as English. Somehow, though all the aliens you’ve met come from another solar system, their names reproduce the exact syllable structure as we hear in English. Whether it’s Kallo Jath or Kif Kroker or Mordin Solus or Garrus Vakarian or Ahsoka Tano or Gasgano or Jyn Erso or Yoda, I know immediately how to stress these “alien” words perfectly… because it’s how I’d naturally do it in my native language. English syllable rules reign supreme in all these names.

If you’re wondering why a name might sound “familiar” even if you made it up to sound alien, you could perhaps play with where you place primary stress. It doesn’t have to be complicated - some languages simply stress the final syllable of each word, for instance!

Let’s say I named a character “Matatari.” You probably automatically read the name to have the stress on the penultimate syllable. But you could test to see how it sounds with each of the different syllables stressed. The second-to-last syllable for English speakers might sound the most natural and “familiar” - but what happens if I made her name “MAtatari” or “matataRI”? Mátatari and Matatarí escape the rules of typical English stress.

2. Sound inventory identical to English.

All languages contain a finite set of sounds that combine into words. These sound units are called phonemes. A phoneme is like the b, e, and t sounds that combine to make the word “bet.”

Now, languages don’t all share the same phonemes, and they most certainly don’t have the same composite phonemic system. That is, languages might share some of the same sounds, but languages don’t have the entire same sound inventory. Think of a Venn diagram for two languages - some sounds will be in common in the center of the diagram, while other sounds will only appear in one of the languages.

When I hear people pronounce the names of their own alien languages, I hear… the phoneme system that English has. People just pick and use the sounds that are in the language they speak, whereas in truth, it’s most likely going to be the case that a foreign language lacks some of the sounds we have, and has some sounds we lack.

3. Use of cross-linguistically uncommon sounds.

Continuing off of #2… it turns out that some phonemes are more statistically likely to occur across all the world’s languages. How common a phoneme is cross-linguistically depends upon many factors, like how audibly discernible the phoneme is from other phonemes, how loud/quiet it is, and how easy it is to physiologically produce with our human anatomy (we tend to like to make sounds that are easy to make with our mouths, unsurprisingly). I’m not going to labor into the details of how something is common or how it isn’t, but I’m happy to list off some common and uncommon sounds cross-linguistically.

For one thing I notice in fantasy and science fiction names is the repeated use of sounds that are in English, but are actually very rare across the world’s languages. The sounds /f/ as in “fight” and /θ/ as in “thing” are very rare because they’re so quiet. They might be sounds in English, but most languages don’t have “f” and “th”! You’re also very unlikely to hear /ɛ/ as in “bet,” /ɪ/ as in “fish”, /l/ as in “lime,” and /ɹ/ as in “right.” (If you want an r sound, a rolled r is far more common - not that weird thing we have in English). I wouldn’t recommend /dʒ/ as in “jump” either.

So it’s actually slightly odd to see a bunch of characters named things like Worf or Kif or Sarek or Groot or Allura or Quark or Kit Fisto.

If you’re curious about sounds that are common, those are things like /k/ for “king,” /t/ for “tall,” /n/ for “no,” and actually a bunch of vowels that aren’t in English. If you know Spanish, think of the five main vowels a (as in “gato”), e (as in “tres”), i (as in “si”), o (as in “solo”), and u (as in “tu”). These vowels are the most common vowels cross-linguistically, and it’s actually pretty common for these to be THE five vowels in a language (with maybe a few diphthongs or something thrown in there). There’s also the schwa sound that you hear at the end of words like “para” - that baby gets heard a lot, too, for a variety of reasons.

4. Identical phonotactics.

Whether or not an individual sound is in a language is important. What also makes languages distinct is what sounds are “allowed” to be put next to each other. The rules for what sounds can go where in a word… is called phonotactics. What sounds are okay to put next to each other in one language might be entirely different in another language.

For instance, in English, there is no problem whatsoever with words like “string,” “sixths,” and “sounds” - words which have three or more consonants next to one another at the start or end of a syllable. However, having three consonants grouped together like s, t, and r in “string” might not be okay in another language. There are some languages, in fact, which don’t allow two consonants to be next to one another - you always have to have a vowel between consonants. This is why the word “Christmas” in English turns into “Kurisumasu” (クリスマス) in Japanese. The Japanese loan word takes the word “Christmas” and inserts vowels in between consonant clusters. And similarly, in English, we might have problems pronouncing some of the consonant clusters in Khmer words like “khnom” and “chngang.”

But we’d be very hard-pressed to find character names that flout the rules of English phonotactics.

Another thing to consider with phonotactics is where in the syllable a sound is “allowed” to occur. Sometimes there are different rules for what can go where depending upon whether it’s at the start of a syllable before the vowel (onset) or the end of a syllable after a vowel (coda). In English, we have the sound “ng”, like in “song” or “thing.” However, we cannot put “ng” at the start of a syllable in English. We can say “song” but not “ngos.” But, other languages like Vietnamese or Khmer have no problem putting the “ng” at the start of a syllable. Consider the common Vietnamese surname “Nguyen.” There’s that “ng” right at the start! Different languages have different rules.

And there’s all sort of variety: some languages only allow consonants at the start of a syllable but not the end of a syllable, some languages only allow certain consonants at the end of a syllable or a word, and some languages have specific restrictions about what consonant clusters are allowed. In general, it’s rare for long consonant clusters to be allowed (the word “sixths” in English is really unusual for what it allows).

I could probably keep going, but I imagine this gets the point across well enough. Again, this is not meant to be a criticism or evidence of shortcoming for writers. I don’t expect anyone to be experts in linguistics, and there is something to be said about readers getting frightened of printed words that look unpronounceable to them. Viewers also probably want to have an easy time pronouncing the names of characters they hear on screen. People are probably going to be happier to meet an alien named “Zarkon,” “Groot,” or “Morbo” than “Ng!lieng” or “O’kktroxnuo Khlebrrotk.”

However, I am writing this from an amused linguistic ramble about how our own native language’s rules seep into the subconscious. Even when people try to create “alien” names and words, we often find something far closer to home.