#- have a link to a read more that's a dead end and the image description is no longer accessible at ALL. which sucks if u need it! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tadpole-apocalypse · 4 months ago

Text

Fortunes

Part 1 - Death [Ao3 Link]

Summary -

Cazador is dead, and it's time to finally start living. Astarion takes Morgan to his grave and asks her for a favor only she can offer.

Pairing: Astarion x Morgan (female human tav)

Rating: Explicit Sexual Content

Tags: Astarion POV, graveyard sex, mentions of torture, elf/human relationships, blood and violence, vampire hopped up on infernal blood, that elf gets his dick sucked, wild magic sorcerer tav, wet and messy, deep throating, inappropriate use of tadpole, actually an appropriate use of tadpole , telepathy, fortune telling, vampire spawn

It's done! I can finally know peace...for a few days at least until I start working on the second part. A treato to enjoy~

Astarion stares at the elaborate looping script of Cazador Szarr’s personal journal. Page after page of the monster’s private thoughts about him; his movements through the city, the quality of the victims he procured, his punishments and tortures. Many, many pages of detailed descriptions of how his body looked in various states of mutilation that would have threatened bile, if he were capable of such a thing.

Yet he cannot tear himself away from the pages about himself and reads until the light of day fades in the small window of his room in the Elfsong Tavern, forcing him to put the book down to light a candle.

He draws a hand down his face, feeling every one of his nearly 250 years. His bones creak when he moves because he has not moved a muscle since he fished the journal from the bag Morgan slipped into his room.

The image of her slips into his mind and calms the dark vortex of his thoughts that threaten to overwhelm him.

They’d talked very little since it happened. He was grateful for the private room she’d secured; a rare luxury for him. A door to shut and lock everything and everyone out and just…think.

About what he’d lost. What he’d gained.

A future to plan for.

Morgan’s voice drifts underneath the door from the common room outside. She’s returned from some excursion in the city, no doubt, while he hid in a dark room like a specter once more. A sudden need to see her fills him with a nervous energy and he scrambles to his feet, rushing to tidy his appearance. He smooths his wrinkled clothing and runs some animal fat through his hair in a practiced motion.

By the squirming in his head, even the repulsive little parasite seems excited to see her. He tosses his head to settle his hair and sets out of his room in a quick flourish of movement.

On a bench nearby, a massive elf stirs at his sudden entrance as if woken from a nap. He ignores the Archdruid, and spies Morgan on the other side of the room dumping an armful of gilded ceremonial weapons into a pile of loot being sorted by a blank-eyed hireling. He recognizes them as the hideous wall decorations from the reading room in the east wing.

Startled by his sudden appearance, the tight control she leashes around her tadpole drops momentarily. His own, eager as always to reach out to its kin, grasps at a few stray thoughts escaping into their shared Hivemind until she asserts mental control over it once more.

Is he coming to end things? Because of what I said about the ritual?

Morgan.

He speaks her name through their mind link, suffusing the word with what he feels in that moment. Anticipation, gratitude, relief, and most strongly, his adoration. Emotions that he hopes convey his intent at approaching her.

It has the intended effect; her posture relaxes and she looks up at him with soft eyes. Before they broke into Cazador’s manor, she had offered her neck to him. The memory of his last taste of her blooms inside his chest, feeling heavy and tight.

She weakened herself ahead of a great battle, so he would be stronger. Always so reckless with her own body. She held him while he drank in the shadowed corner of his own home with trembling hands on her throat, defiant of his Master’s rules. And together, they sent that bastard’s soul back to the hells to be claimed by Mephistopheles.

What sort of monster would the ritual have twisted him into? Would she have ended up as a subject in one of his own insane, rambling journals centuries later?

No, he wasn’t upset that she challenged his ambitions to the ritual. Perhaps never seeing the sun again was simply the price of freedom.

He is close enough to pull her hand into his now, so he does so.

Aww guys, he’s holding her hand! I think they’re gonna be okay!

They both turn to stare at Karlach across the room, who slaps her hand over her mouth as if she said the words aloud and not blasted into everyone’s brains through her poorly controlled tadpole. Astarion’s glare is piercing, but there is no malice behind his eyes as Shadowheart pulls the tiefling into the adjoining room by her tail. He looks back at Morgan.

“Come with me? There’s something I want to show you, out in the city.”

“Okay,” she agrees “Oh, uh…” She looks down at her robes, stained and filthy, likely from spending all day crawling through Cazador’s cellars. “I should change first. I’ll meet you downstairs, okay?”

“Of course, darling. I’ll be out front.”

When she finds him again leaning against the wall at the Tavern’s entrance, her appearance gives him pause. Her hair is freed from its usual bindings, oiled and shiny. And her outfit…

He picks at the edge of her collar, spying a familiar style of stitching. “Did you get that from the manor?”

Morgan’s eyes are saucer wide. “It was in a pile of clothing that Shadowheart said was more fashionable than the rest. I just picked the one on top! I could…go change…”

He laughs. It feels good to do so, the heavy weight of his heart feeling lighter. “You do the garment far more favors than Violet ever could. Don’t you dare change out of it.” He punctuates his point by leaning forward and planting a small, chaste kiss on her lips.

She melts into him, and when he pulls away she’s flush with her life’s blood. He smiles indulgently, feeling every bit like the lovesick fool he knew he was.

He takes her by the hand again, and leads her to his intended destination. They walk in silence, around darkened city streets that he could navigate while blindfolded. Decade after decade of stalking these streets and prowling for victims to drag back to his master.

No longer. Now he walks these streets as a free man, no longer following puppet strings, performing acts of depravity in order to serve another’s will. He could do what he wanted, where he wanted, and with whom he wanted.

And he wanted her. In every way he could have, if she’d allow it, for as long as her little mortal life would have him.

Morgan makes a small sound of surprise when she realizes where he’s brought her, but she lets him continue leading into the cemetery, winding deeper into the grounds around rows of grave markers.

She holds back when he stops at the one with his name on it.

“Oh, she says. “This is your…”

“Yes.” He lets her warm hand slip out of his grasp while she inspects the writing on the grave. He leans down to brush away the shrubbery and plant life that had grown up around the marker, trying not to think of how it must have been over a century since someone last came to visit his grave given its state of disrepair; if there ever was anyone who cared enough to.

When he speaks again, his voice cuts through the deafening silence that’s settled over them, making Morgan jump slightly.

“Buried nearly 200 years ago. I haven’t been back since the night I woke up down there.” His face twists, bitterness rising from his gut. “Cazador was waiting for me, when I clawed my way through six feet of dirt to reach the surface. From that day on I was his.”

He turns back towards her, the bitterness fading as quickly as it came. “Until today.”

“You were never his. He could compel your body, your words, but your mind was your own.”

He gives her a sad smile, knowing a bit of where her perspective comes from as a survivor of her own religious cult. Mistreated though she was, praise all the gods she never suffered the hells that only a creature of the night like him could endure.

“Still, there’s almost nothing left of the person I was, just a name on a rock. I hid in the shadows while the person I was lay here, dead and buried. Now I have to figure out who I am, and what my future holds for me...and I admit I find that to be a daunting and terrifying prospect.”

“What do you want your future to hold, Astarion?” Her eyes look at him so softly now; so different from the woman he'd known at the beginning of their journey.

“Shouldn’t you be able to tell me that, little soothsayer?” Reaching into his pack, he produces a little wooden box she would recognize as part of her fortune telling kit.

“When did you-” she snatches at the box and flashes her eyes at him.

“A while back, at the Grove. After you did those readings for the tieflings,” he smirks, still pleased about that particular bit of thievery.

“So um…I thought you knew…” She fidgets with the box, tapping the edges with the blunt nail of her thumb. “None my fortune telling is real. I make it all up based on what they want to hear, from the thoughts I can pick up on. People would pay a lot of money for that, over and over.”

“A charlatan!” he exclaims in mock surprise, sitting back on his heels. “And here I am, a vampire with a mind impenetrable to your magic.”

“Not to my tadpole,” she protests.

“Ah ah,” he tuts, tapping her nose. “No cheating! I trust you to do your best; you’re a professional after all. Treat me just as you would one of your customers.” He lets his eyes grow wet and pleading. “Please…indulge me?”

She lets out a petulant sigh, kneels across from him and shuffles the cards. When she’s done, she pats down an area of dirt flat enough to set her cards into.

“Cut the deck,” she guides him after she sets it down. He kneels in front of her and follows the direction.

“Okay, draw your card.”

He does so, revealing a skeleton in black armor on a horse, carrying a flag. Even he knew a Death card when he saw it.

“A bit on the nose given our surroundings, isn’t it?”

She’s silent for a second, looking at the card with her brow furrowed. “It’s not…physical death. It can be a metaphorical death. The end of a major phase of your life.”

“Well, That only tells me what I already know. But what does it say about my future?”

She falls silent again, studying the card as she ponders his question.

“So…Death is…change. Yeah? So...you should welcome any new changes as a cleansing of your former state of being, and see it as a welcome and positive force leading you to a new transformation. Even if the change is painful and scary at times, it is necessary for new opportunities and advantages to arise.”

“And just what am I meant to be transforming into, exactly?”

“The person you will become, without that man holding you in place.” These words are spoken firmly, with more confidence.

“Hm. I suppose that makes a certain kind of sense,” he strokes his chin. “What does it say about my love life?”

“Oh!” She plays along, adopting a thoughtful look. “Well, if you think about it, loving someone is to be forever changed. If you have someone special in your life, now is the time to embrace your feelings and tell them how you really feel."

The little showman in her comes out with that line, he observes with amusement.

“My dear fortune teller, what if she rejects me? I wouldn’t know how to bear it.”

Morgan taps the Death card once more. “Change is scary, but inevitable. You must learn to handle that uncertainty.”

Well, I suppose I mustn’t defy the cards then should I?”

Astarion gathers the cards together and sets them aside, kneeling in front of her to then take her hands in his. She adopts his same posture and kneels with him amid the soil. Her attention is on him entirely as she looks up at him cutely with those big, human eyes.

“I am…ashamed to admit I didn’t care for you when we first met. I looked down on you being a human, for being stupid enough to let a vampire bite you.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” she sighs, looking away with a wry expression. “I’ve been with plenty of High Elves and a lot of you are just…like that, vampire or not.”

“You really need to have better standards for your lovers,” he presses gently, guiding her chin back towards him.

“Funny, that’s what Shadowheart used to say when she’d catch me sneaking off to your tent.”

He lets out a bark of laughter. “She wasn’t wrong.” His mirth fades, expression turning more serious.

“I was wrong. You’ve treated me with nothing but generosity and understanding, even through the blood lust, pain and misery I caused you. For so long, I only knew how to be cruel and to see such things as weakness. Cruelty…it springs forth so easily onto my tongue and yet you were patient with me through all of it when I was least deserving of it. I feel safe with you, and seen. I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you.”

He closes his eyes and sucks in a deep, shuddery breath through his desiccated lungs. “I love you.”

Morgan looks down, then back up at him. Her eyes are wet. His chest flutters with her freely given blood.

“I also am ashamed for how I thought of you,” she admits in a trembling voice. He pushes some strands of green hair out of her face, tucking them behind her ear. “I couldn’t read your thoughts in the way I was used to, so I assumed you were like many of the elves I have known before, who liked slumming it with humans. I didn’t take you or the things I was learning about you seriously…not at first. I didn’t know that you were hurting so deeply this entire time.”

“Darling, I’ve had lifetimes to conceal my own pain and feelings. It’s not something you should feel at fault for; I was the one manipulating you.”

“I know,” she sniffs, a few tears escaping. He brushes them away with his thumb. “I love you too. I want to be with you, after all this. If we survive.”

“That is…” he’s moved that she can say that after being reminded of his manipulations, and so they hold each other for a moment, cradled in the dirt of his grave. He pulls away from her warmth reluctantly, and reaches for the dagger in his belt.

“Well, I should probably fix this,” he gestures to his grave marker. She watches in silence as he bends down to carve his new dates into the stone. When his work is done, he turns back towards his lover.

“I’ve been dead in the ground long enough. It’s time to try living again.”

He kneels back down and pushes her into the dirt. She makes a small squeal of surprise he’s heard dozens of times in their previous couplings, and it excites him now as much as it did back then. Morgan looks up at him, sprawled in the dirt, her one pale eye shining in the darkness. Violet’s outfit clings to her curves in ways it never did on his sibling, and he takes in the sight of her glowing under the moonlight appreciatively. Arousal winds through him, and taking charge of it feels right at this moment.

“You know,” he bends down, presses his nose into her neck, feels her pulse jump, “If a night of passion is on offer, I could be persuaded…”

“Really?” he senses her heart rate quicken, blood rushing. “Now? Here?”

“I brought a blanket, if you don’t want to stay in the dirt.” he grins, pulling the leather satchel from his waist. He well remembers their first tryst, where she insisted he walk back to camp to get a blanket before she would lay with him in the clearing.

“I meant…that it’s been a little while…is it okay?” She’s not hiding her eagerness very well, and he smiles at her fondly with heavy lidded eyes.

Bending down to mouth her pulse point, he’s careful not to break her skin despite his vampiric senses craving the sweet magic in her blood, just beyond his fangs. Her breathy little gasp goes straight to his groin; he presses himself against her so she can feel just how much he wants her. Her leg curls around his lower back as their bodies fit together.

“Yes,” he assures her, then grins at her loud, whorish moan when he rocks his hips. Their lips crash together and he doesn’t think about anything but the woman in his arms, laying with him in dirt he crawled out of as a slave. There was something poetic there, if he had a mind for that sort of thing.

He’d leave the poetry to young Wyll.

“I love you,” he groans again into her skin, as nothing else in his repertoire was fit for her anymore. Her lips and tongue meet his as his hands grope under fabric to press against the scorching heat of living skin. She yelps and shifts under him.

“Cold! Your hands are cold,” she whines.

“I’d better warm them up quickly then,” he smirks, moving his hands upward to cup each heavy breast from under the blouse. He captures her lips again and gives them a squeeze, delighting in the softness of her body and the way she writhes under him when he does it.

His eyes trace the scar across her sloped nose, her parted lips and the small gap in her front teeth, the freckles dancing on her throat. He wants to drown in her beauty, as penance for the man he was before that had denigrated how she looked in his mind, the pathetic wretch that only saw beauty in the narrow definition that Cazador taught him.

He opens his mouth to try and speak some pretty words about how she looks to him, but none of his thousands of lines are sincere enough for how he feels “Gods, you’re beautiful,” he whispers, though even that feels inadequate. He prods her with his tadpole instead, letting her feel how he feels.

Morgan responds in kind and his brain floods with the strong emotions surging through her in this moment. Her longing for his touch on her body, her fear for them surviving their encounter with the Netherbrain, her relief that he wasn’t angry with her, her desire to hold and kiss him over and over and over…

He lets her do just that, as they retreat from the Hivemind. Her lips on his, parting only for him to draw her top over her head and off, hands free to enjoy all of her that he could touch. He palms her breasts until his hands are warm, pulling one puffy nipple into his mouth and slipping down into her breeches, into her underwear.

She moans when he cups her, then her body goes rigid. He jerks back in concern when glowing light spills out of her body; her wild magic about to surge! Both of them scramble to their feet in the loose soil.

“No-no-no-no-no!” Morgan cries, losing her footing and falling to her knees as the surge washes over her in a blinding blue light. Astarion grabs his dagger as the smell of sulfur fills the air; A flash of heat and a cambion materializes before them, armed and angry.

“The fuck?” The devil growls and raises its spear at the pair. “You dare summon me? I’ll rip your guts out then drag your souls back into the hells with me, foolish mortals.”

Astarion steps between Morgan and the creature, dodging its clumsy swing in his direction and giving her a chance to retreat behind him and ready some spell. He has to duck under another jab of the spear that grazes a little too close to his ribs before she’s ready; vocalizing the chant to a spell that holds it in place, frozen.The cambion’s expression drops as it realizes the peril it is in.

He glances at the concentration on Morgan’s face, and then back at the helpless devil they have in their trap. Grinning madly, he bares his fangs and sinks them into the neck of their trapped prey. Not the gentle lover’s bite that Morgan has only known, but the powerful jaws of a vampire spawn at full strength; snapping deep into the soft muscle and arteries of the devil’s throat. Hot blood -violently hot- burns a trail down his throat before he twists his head sharply and tears the creature’s throat out entirely.

A great gout of blood sprays onto his face and more down his throat. The taste is smokey, sulfurous, and sets his tongue alight in a most delightful way that whets his appetite.

It's not his first time drinking infernal blood, but it is his first time having such a glut of it as once. The cambion is unable to move or make a sound despite its pumping wound; no thrashing, no wrestling, no need to subdue. Helpless as he swallows mouthful after mouthful until all life is drained from the devil, and the spell collapses with no monster left to hold.

Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he staggers a bit, overwhelmed by the sheer quantity and the burning heat now settling in his stomach.

“Gods,” Morgan pants. “A devil. Those ones are rare, I’m sorry. That could have gone much worse.”

“Has that happened while you’ve been alone?” he wonders with some concern. Blood drips down his chin and he swipes at it with his sleeve again while watching her bare tits sway while she attempts to regain her footing. He had been hard before the devil joined them, now feasted on its infernal blood, his erection strains painfully against the tight lacing on his breeches. He has to steady himself against his tombstone.

“Not alone,” she responds, approaching him from behind. ‘One time though, in a crowded market. I ran away and let the Fist deal with it.”

“You’re lucky you weren’t arrested,” he points out, groaning as his pants press even tighter into his suffering cock. Gods, this blood was intense.

She waves her hand dismissively, then giggles at the sight of him. “You’re covered in that thing’s blood. Do devils taste good to you?”

“Nothing compared to the taste of you,” he answers hoarsely. “Your blood is something special.”

“Well I was your first…so that must be why,” she waves away the compliment, her eyes dropping obviously to his crotch. “You seem to be having a hard time there. Want some help?”

He nods desperately, aching to relieve the pressure as molten fire courses through his veins and sexual arousal coils in his belly. He feels hers too, through the close proximity of their tadpoles.

Morgan’s practiced hands release him from his bindings, earning a hiss of relief. There’s a single long moment where she hesitates, one hand on his chest and the other stroking his erection softly. Far too softly.

Her heart is pounding so loudly it echoes in his ears. Then, she drops to her knees and swallows him down into her warm, waiting mouth.

His strangled cry is the one that fills the dead air now, nails digging into the worn stone. He throws his head back, and can’t help the joyous laugh that bubbles from deep in his chest. One of her hands pushes his balls up ever so gently, so she can angle the entirety of him more easily down her throat.

“You don’t have to be gentle,” he gasps through clenched teeth, eyes rolling back when she responds immediately and handles him with more force. “I want you…I want you to ruin me.”

She looks up into his pleading eyes for a brief moment and shuffles closer, her plush breasts brushing his knees.

And ruin him she does, with her wicked little mouth that works over him better than most career whores, and it isn’t long until thick strands of his prerelease are hanging from her chin from her efforts. When she has to pull back and breathe, her fist is on him, her tongue finding the sensitive spots on the head, dipping under the foreskin, lapping fluid that continues to leak out of his cock.

“Gods,” he manages to croak out, scrabbling to keep his balance against his grave stone. Her mouth on him was hotter than the fires of Grymforge and his release was building quicker than he could get a control over.

Swallowing him down all the way to the root once more and gripping his balls in a vice-like grip, she rocks her face into him. His dick, constrained by the walls of her throat, pulses once; and then it's on him. His vision goes black at the edges, silence ringing in his ears, as he spills into her throat and mouth and out of it. His eyes squeeze closed as she sucks him through his orgasm, each slam of pleasure enough to make him arch heavily against the gravestone with a shout.

The stone gives way, forcing him stumbling backwards. He hears it crack beneath him as Morgan’s mouth pulls off of him with an obscene sound, covered in his mess. It hangs in thick strands from her chin and dribbles down the side of her mouth, onto her heavy tits, and into the dirt.

He pants heavily on the piece of stone that hadn't crumbled, foggy from the bliss she’d granted him. He turns his head finally to look at the damage. The stone broke where his hands had been on the top of the marker, cracking it all the way down to the etched runes.

“Oh no,” she coughs, and spits onto the ground. “Your grave…”

He can’t help it; a forceful belly laugh erupts from him into the night air. He doesn’t care about the stupid rock. Lifting himself from the damaged grave, he pulls his ruffled shirt over his head and joins her back in the dirt, quickly covering her body with his own. He feels and tastes his own cooling spend when he presses his mouth to hers, but pays it no mind at all. The kiss is ravenous and desperate and steals all the air from her lungs.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he purrs, digging his hands into the soft, bruisable skin of her hips before turning her onto her hands and knees before him. He wipes his own mess from his mouth and takes a moment to admire the sight before him; her ass in the air, the dark thatch of hair and sopping wet cunt spread open before him. He drags the head of his cock over the opening, not pushing in but enjoying the slide of their wet skin. Her little mewling sounds are an added bonus.

“Astarion, please,” she begs when he doesn’t move right away and pushes her ass firmly against his groin, still stiff and aching. Oh, how he loves hearing her beg for it! Another time and he’d draw out her torment and tease her for much longer. Not tonight, now he gives into her need and sinks into her wet cut, tearing a howl from the both of them. A snap of his hips pushes her deeper in the dirt, and then there is just the wet sounds of slapping flesh and their moans and cries mingling together under the stars.

He watches her body bounce and jump with each thrust. The infernal blood puts him into a frenzy; there’s no outside world anymore, only her hot little hole sucking him into a quickly approaching oblivion.

“Hey! HEY!! What in the hells…you kids can’t be out here! Wait, is that a devil?”

Astarion turns and snarls at the sudden intruder, slipping out of Morgan’s wet heat while she swears under her breath and reaches for his dagger once more on this night.

He’s greeted with the vision of an elderly dwarf dressed in the city garb of a Groundskeeper looking in horror at the blade and fangs brandished on one side, and the corpse of a devil on the other. He turns and runs in the direction he came from with cry of pure terror.

Astarion lets out a deep suffering sigh at their constant interruptions, then turns back towards his lover, still sprawled in the dirt.

“He’s probably going to go fetch the guards,” he complains, pulling her close by the throat so he can plunder her lips for a moment. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him back, making his chest feel tight again. “We should move somewhere else…unless you want to pick up where we left off in one of the city jails?”

“I know a place nearby,” she plants a sweet little kiss on his collarbone and pulls away, towards her pile of clothing. Both of them are filthy; covered in a mix of sweat, dirt and cum. They hurry into their clothes, not bothering with the undergarments, and leave behind nothing more than a devil corpse and his broken gravestone.

Morgan leads this time, holding his hand while they run giggling out of the grave site, holding onto the clothing they didn’t bother to put back on. She takes him a mere three blocks down, on the opposite side of the market district, and stops at an unremarkable wooden door. A sign hangs over it, displaying only the runes that spelled out a single word: Fortunes.

“This is your shop? Where you lived?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “Who knew we were so close, this whole time?”

“Thats…” he stops, unsettled. He’d probably walked past this unremarkable looking building thousands of times. That at any point, if he’d had the mind to step inside for any reason…

“I lost my key when I was on the Nautiloid. Can you get us in?”

He slips a lockpick out and twirls it in his fingers in response. It's not a difficult lock at all, and he deftly pushes the tumblers in place within seconds. “Not very good security darling, we’ll have to fix that.”

“Sure, if you say so,” she steps over the threshold, then turns back to look at him with an outstretched hand.

“Come on in, vampire. You’re welcome here.”

~~ Continued in Part 2

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #bg3: morgan #nsft

56 notes · View notes

wolfgirlboyjester · 4 months ago

Text

KHOC Week Day 1 - Introduction

(Day 1 - Day 2 - Day 3 - Day 4 - Day 5 - Day 6 - Day 7)

I'm excited to participate in KHOC Week ( @khoc-week ) with Lamia, my favorite bristly emo boy in the whole world. I am currently in the process of writing a very lengthy and ambitious fic about them and the connection they make with a certain weird old man with an eyepatch. Lamia means a lot to me, and I'm so happy to have an excuse to show him to you all :]

The Day 1 prompt was a good excuse to finally nail down a design for them. I've struggled a bit in the past because there's a pretty big difference between the way I design characters (imagining what decisions they would make about their appearance based on their personality) and the way Kingdom Hearts characters are designed (what looks cool, and what is communicated about them to the audience based on their appearance). However, I think I struck a happy medium here!

I'm gonna spend the whole week infodumping about him, but there's more Sweet Sweet Lamia Content over on my main blog. (Be advised: I'm keeping my KHOC Week posts pretty PG, but there is more mature content in the links below!)

For more art: lamiart tag

For more Lore: lamiaposting tag

Text description below the cut, partly to keep the image alt text short, partly because the font might be difficult to read for some people:

Age: 25 (at the end of KHI)

Pronouns: he/him, they/them

Height: 5'8" (173 cm)

Homeworld: Radiant Garden

Keyblade: ???

Wields a broken, seemingly dead keyblade from the Keyblade Graveyard

Auxillary Member of the Hollow Bastion Restoration Committee

Father was a scientist in Radiant Garden before he vanished, along with Lamia's mother, during Maleficent's takeover

Has had chronic insomnia due to horrific nightmares ever since he was a child

Almost no magical ability

Swears like a sailor*

Doesn't eat much but has a massive sweet tooth

Autistic, trans

Scar on his lip came from a run-in with a Radiant Garden guard when he was a teen

*Strong language will not be present in KHOC Week posts

#kh #kingdom hearts #khocweek2024 #khocweek #kingdom hearts oc #kh oc #lamia #oc

42 notes · View notes

yellow-yarrow · 4 days ago

Text

Plain text version of this post about Russian cosmism and Disco Elysium's lore:

[Image description of the linked post: a collection of various quotes from the game, the book, and from cosmist texts or writings about cosmism. The text that is displayed is the following:]

Cosmist connections in Elysium’s lore

Cosmism emerged in Russia before the October Revolution and developed through the 1920s and 1930s; like Marxism and the European avant-garde, two other movements that shared this intellectual moment, Russian Cosmism rejected the contemplative for the transformative, aiming to create not merely new art or philosophy but a new world. Cosmism went the furthest in its visions of transformation, calling for the end of death, the resuscitation of the dead, and free movement in cosmic space. […] Cosmism was developed by the Russian philosopher Nikolai Fedorov in the late nineteenth century [..] Cosmist ideas inspired visual artists, poets, filmmakers, theater directors, novelists (Tolstoy and Dostoevsky read Fedorov's writings), architects, and composers, and influenced Soviet politics and technology. [1]

From the Disco Elysium artbook:

Hegel says there is a World Spirit. It is on the march toward Absolute Knowledge. As Soviet artists – perhaps the last Soviet artists – it was our duty to add to the relay. To keep history moving. Onward to the outer cosmos and the stars. Now, imagine you really believe this to be your duty. Something you have to do, or you’ve failed as a person. The Soviet project was always about messianistic salvation. Soviet artists took on the insane responsibilities: to fight against Heat Death, or to build a new God. The horizon was always millions of years in the future.

In a sense, Fedorov developed his project of the resurrection of past generations as an attempt to “materialize” Hegelian philosophy. Hegel understood the historical process as a work of negation: we should negate the past and present to let the historical new emerge. According to Hegel’s Phenomenology of the Spirit, the goal of history consists, however, in the spiritual reconstruction of all its past epochs. Thus, Hegel believed that through his Phenomenology he had achieved the ultimate reconciliation and even synthesis between past and future. [1]

Creative labor, in our understanding, is a cosmic category, and the goal of all labor is to overcome time. We need to stop hoping for a ready-made eternity and start producing time. Blind, irrational time is already in its death throes. Beyond it lies the new, more perfect and rational time-a creation of the future global culture. —V. Muraviev [2]

ENCYCLOPEDIA - There is a name for this ideology: Entropolism. A faith in and desire to accelerate the spread of pale across the world, until humanity has reached what its adherents call the 'rest state' of humanity, the final reconciliation of past, present, and future in timeless spirit…

EGG HEAD - "THE PAST IS THE FUTURE, BUT THE FUTURE IS DEAD!"

According to Muravyov, under capitalism there is planned development (the first derivative of time). Communism involves the acceleration of planned development (the second derivative of time). Muravyov’s cosmist project depicted the prospect of further acceleration, potentially up to the limit of our universe (the third and further derivatives of time). To achieve this goal, Muravyov insisted on the final quantification of the world and the development of a “universal productive mathematics” that would be used to manage it. [3]

ENCYCLOPEDIA - An innocence is infallible. The decisions made by one are not decisions. They are inevitabilities -- what would have happened anyway, only accelerated, packed into decades instead of centuries. An Innocence is a continuous, compressed event, a sacred human being.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - The highest category of historic individual -- an embodiment of the World Spirit.

Evald Ilyenkov’s “Cosmology of the Spirit” was written in the 1950s (..) Addressing the physicist idea of the “thermal death of the universe,” and creating an original combination of the Hegelian dialectics and Spinoza’s notion of the attribute, Ilyenkov claims that thought (and the seemingly contingent emergence of “thinking life”) is a necessary attribute of matter, as it is able to prevent the terminal entropic collapse.

“Thought is undoubtedly the highest product of universal development, is the highest stage of organizing interactions.”

“Just as there is no thought without matter, so there is no matter without thought.”

A BRIEF LOOK AT INFRA-MATERIALISM - But one subject [Ignus Nilsen] returned to time and time again was the fundamental relationship between thoughts and matter… "We may yet discover," he wrote in his notebooks, "that under certain, exceptional circumstances, the proletariat's embrace of historical materialism may be so fervent that their beliefs take form in the world of matter as a kind of revolutionary 'plasm'."

“Does not the development of productive power of humankind remove the danger of perishing from cosmic freezing, from the cold of intergalactic space?”

A BRIEF LOOK AT INFRA-MATERIALISM- During his final years in exile, he produced, among other things, […] plans for a universal pictographic language […]

Many [cosmists] were publicly supportive of Leon Trotsky

Our goal is a common written language, common for all the nations of the third satellite of the Sun, to construct written signs, comprehensible and acceptable for the whole star that is settled by humanity, lost in the world. —Velimir Khlebnikov, The Artists of the World, 1919

“Humankind […] at some, very high, point of its development— at the point acquired when matter, of more or less vast cosmic spaces within which humankind exists, starts to cool and is close to the condition of so-called thermal death; in this fateful point for matter and in which in some way or other […] consciously facilitates the start of the reverse (in comparison with dispersed motion) process, a process transforming the dying, freezing worlds into the fiery- incandescent hurricane of emerging nebula.”

PROJECT DREAD BOARD- A pinned postcard reads: 'The heat death scenario -- a desperate fight for geothermal energy engulfs the world as Wirrâl becomes untethered from its sun, drifting through the Universe.'

“Our Earth must become a spaceship steered by the wise will of the Biocosmist. It is a horrifying fact that from time immemorial the Earth has orbited the Sun, like a goat tethered to its shepherd.” [1]

“Without it, there is nothing.” “Nothing. It was a blizzard, but it was bright, it was morning. Communism is white, it sparkles! Communism is the morning, it is a jubilation!” The pale begins to recede dangerously around the entroponaut. The world turns white; beams of light seep from Ignus’ chest into the dim spruce trees. The falling snow sparkles in the beams like silver confetti, the colour creeping into the world like a threat. Zygismunt stomps his foot. He covers his ears with his hands and shouts, “Enough! Stop!” -Sacred And Terrible Air

Indeed, if one assumes that the thinking spirit is born somewhere on the periphery of universal matter only in order for it soon to vanish fruit lessly and without a trace [..] then one ends up with a very strange notion of “attribute.” Indeed in this case thought turns out to be something like mould on a cooling planet, something like the senile disease of matter, and certainly not the highest flower of creation, not the highest product of universalworld development. [4]

The pale is approaching—an avalanche of the world’s memories—and burying matter greedily.

History swallows the present; the world of matter disappears,

when the pale is only a few days away, it’s always signalled by the same beautiful event. Fruits go mouldy. It grows vigorously on them.

SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER- "A theory of the pale where instead of an outer ocean it metastasises -- like a cancer or a mould -- erupting in points inside the world."

The scientists here claim: once the earth was covered with the geosphere, then with the biosphere; now is the time of the noosphere. A mind covers the earth, and Noo’s skyscrapers are the throne of that network. The throne of the mind.

In the theory of the cosmist Vernadsky: The noosphere is the third in a succession of phases of development of the Earth, after the geosphere (inanimate matter) and the biosphere (biological life). Just as the emergence of life fundamentally transformed the geosphere, the emergence of human cognition fundamentally transforms the biosphere. [5]

Sources:

Various quotes from the following writings:

Russian Cosmism edited by Boris Groys

Timeline of Russian Cosmism by Anastasia Gacheva, Arseny Zhilyaev, and Anton Vidokle, e-flux journal

Optimists of the Future Past Perfect by Arseny Zhilyaev, e-flux journal

Cosmology of the Spirit by Evald Ilyenkov from Statis journal and an abridged version of the text

Noosphere wikipedia page

Disco Elysium, Sacred and Terrible Air by Robert Kurvitz, Disco Elysium artbook

#long post /

12 notes · View notes

maniculum · 8 months ago

Text

Bestiaryposting Results: Tatchgob

This is a weird one, I think, because there are a couple aspects of this entry that fully make sense in the context of what this animal actually is, and others that just make you think, "wait, the medievals thought what about [redacted]?" Not a lot else to add here, and I'm already running unusually late with this tonight, so here's the entry in question:

And below the cut is the art people have produced, in rough chronological order:

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) has decided this is an insect, for entirely sensible reasons. The entry says that it flies, but not that it's a bird. It also says that the female reproduces without copulation with the male, and Silverhart helpfully observes that parthenogenesis is a much more common phenomenon in insects than in birds. Specifically, it's a bee, because the Tatchgob is said to be large and slow-flying, and as we all know, a bee's wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground.* This one is specifically inspired by vulture bees -- bees that do in fact eat carrion as the Tatchgob is implied to do (the entry doesn't actually say it eats the corpses, only that perceives them).** Silverhart further notes that they ended up spending a few hours going down a rabbit hole about vulture bees, a warning from which I failed to learn, as I spent the last half-hour reading arguments about whether "meat honey" is a real thing. Anyway, enough commentary from me, look at the very good drawing of a bee and then read what Silverhart says about it in the linked post.

*Bee Movie reference mine; please don't blame Silverhart for my internet-poisoned sense of humor.

** The Aberdeen Bestiary does actually specify this, but it was buried in the long religious-allegory section after the main description so I missed it when setting this up and didn't include it in the post. Now I wish I had, because it hilariously notes that the [Tatchgob] "is often overtaken by death when it descends to the dead animal from a great height." The drawings we could have had of animals crashing full-force into the ground... actually I'm torn on whether that would be a plus or a minus.

@strangelyflesh (link to post here) has made the reasonable call that a large flying animal may as well be a dragon-thing, so here's a bird-like dragon for you. Delightful facial expression on this one. Honestly everything about that head is very charming, actually. The linked post mentions that they "reproduce like those fucked up little geckos" and I am struggling against the temptation to fall down another rabbit hole, so I'm just going to move on.

@cheapsweets (link to post here) drew a bird, but decided to focus in on the fact that it's too large to fly quickly. It's broadly based on a bustard, which is apparently the world's heaviest flying bird (learn something new every day) but is shaped and posed specifically to evoke the silhouette of an aircraft, specifically the infamous Spruce Goose. (Cover the head with your hand, you'll see it.) Extremely clever, in my opinion. For more details on the design decisions, see the linked post. One more thing before we move on, though... check out that thing on the far right of the image, down in the sea. I think that's one of these critters:

Okay, now we're moving to the next one.

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) continues to outdo herself with the stylized medieval drawings. This one is definitely a creative choice -- Capybara notes that they would have been inclined to draw a dragon for this one, except we already had the dragon entry a while back. So she decided this was a komodo dragon that can glide on skin flaps like a flying squirrel. Excellent, love it, very interesting coloration also.

Capybara also raises the interesting question of whether the bestiary writer ever considered what male Tatchgobs might be for, if they aren't involved in the reproductive process. I suppose evolution is a fickle mistress, especially when the person describing your animals doesn't know what evolution even is. They don't seem to have an allegorical purpose either (there's like half a page railing against hypothetical people who fully accept that a [Tatchgob] can give virgin birth but deny that Mary could, which I guess is the point of that detail, but the male Tatchgob goes unmentioned). Anyway, the monk would probably just say they exist because God wanted them to or something... actually I'm not sure how aware they were of the possibility of species that didn't come in two sexes. Anyway, moving on.

@pomrania (link to post here) also thought large flying thing -> dragon, but decided to make theirs more fishlike. See, fish engage in external fertilization, and what are the odds of a pre-modern observer just missing the fact that the male is involved? Assuming they're not on board the "spontaneous generation" wagon. I really like this design, also; gliding on these fin-like structures is especially cool. And yes, according to the linked post, the fact that it shares a color palette with the ace flag is fully intentional. Ace icon Tatchgob.

@strixcattus (link to post here) has drawn a good bird -- serrated beak a solid choice -- but as with many of their posts, the real gold is in the text. See, Strixcattus gave us another carrion-eating bird some months ago, and they've decided this one is a related species. That's right, meet Wutugald tatchgob, the Brown or Lesser Wutugald. Which also explains why this one has that yellow thing above its beak there. Love the connection being drawn to previous entries. (Strixcattus's original Wutugald post can be found here.) As usual, you are strongly, strongly encouraged to go read the descriptions Strixcattus includes with their animals. You should then go check their brief follow-up to the Tatchgob here.

Now, to the Aberdeen Bestiary.

That's right, it's the eagle again! I wasn't expecting a repeat, but you have to admit it's clearly the same bird. The illustration for "eagle", in case you don't remember, looks like this:

Virtually identical except for the coloration of the wing feathers.

Okay, yeah, there are no duplicate entries, I just had to point out the fact that they look exactly the same. This one is the vulture, which apparently also doesn't reach far enough north for our illustrator to be familiar with it.

(A quick check through Wikipedia indicates to me that the various vulture species whose ranges include Europe tend to stick to the southern parts. None of them seem to reach the British Isles, which is where this manuscript originates.)

Anyway, something I find interesting about this is that vultures are another animal that modern people often think of as sinister, creepy, or just gross, but the bestiary is actually really positive about them. There's even one part where they get to be a Christ symbol, which honestly I have to share. It starts with that "dying by descending from a great height" bit I quoted earlier:

The fact is, if a vulture, in flight, sees a corpse, it sets itself down to feed on it, and is often overtaken by death when it descends to the dead animal from a great height. It is right, therefore, that Christ, who was God's mediator and our redeemer, should be signified by the name 'vulture'. While remaining in the heights of his divinity, like the vulture flying on high, he saw the corpse of our mortality below and descended from heaven to the earth beneath; he deigned, indeed, to become man for our sake; and when he sought man, the living thing that had no life, he who in himself had eternal life, met his death at our hands.

That's right, the whole Jesus thing was the allegorical equivalent of diving towards a corpse and accidentally smashing into the ground. Really puts the New Testament in a different light.

There's also a part where vultures foretell death. But not foretell for our benefit, mind: the example given is that vultures have learned to recognize what an army is and follow it because they know there will be food. So they're foretelling for their own purposes, and if we happen to notice and draw any conclusions, that's just a side effect.

One more quote from the Aberdeen Bestiary, and then we're done.

For who looks at the eyes of the vulture, that is, at what lies behind men's thoughts?

... that's a reference people get, right? anyway, it's late, good night.

#maniculum bestiaryposting #tatchgob

34 notes · View notes

elizmanderson · 1 month ago

Text

rats, I was gonna add this to my original cover reveal post as a reblog, but apparently I can't? I didn't see a video option for rb, anyway. I guess it's fine bc this got longer than I meant it to, although that's mostly because I wanted to include information that would've already been in the post I had planned to reblog

anyway please behold the magic of me somehow creating a book trailer despite generally having no video editing skills to speak of. I think it slaps actually

here's the original post: link to cover reveal post

here's a full book description

In this mesmerizing, wonderfully moving queer cozy fantasy, an immortal ghost hunter must confront his tragic past in order to embrace his found family. Find an angry spirit. Send it on its way before it causes trouble. Leave before anyone learns his name. After over two hundred years, Peter Shaughnessy is ready to die and end this cycle. But thanks to a youthful encounter with one o’ them folk in his native Ireland, he can’t. Instead, he’s cursed to wander eternally far from home, with the ability to see ghosts and talk to plants. Immortality means Peter has lost everyone he’s ever loved. And so he centers his life on the dead—until his wandering brings him to Harrington, Ohio. As he searches for a vengeful spirit, Peter’s drawn into the townsfolk’s lives, homes and troubles. For the first time in over a century, he wants something other than death. But the people of Harrington will die someday. And he won’t. As Harrington buckles under the weight of the supernatural, the ghost hunt pits Peter’s well-being against that of his new friends and the man he’s falling for. If he stays, he risks heartbreak. If he leaves, he risks their lives.

here are some book links

(only this time I remembered to actually link all of them)

request it on Netgalley: link to Netgalley page

add it to a TBR: link to TheStoryGraph | link to GoodReads

preorder: link to BookShop | link to Barnes & Noble | link to Kobo | link to Amazon

and here's alt text for the video

text fades in over softly blurred flowers, reading "The Keeper of Lonely Spirits, book trailer and cover reveal."

text split up throughout the trailer reads: "a ghost. a curse. a town in peril. to save an Ohio town, he'll have to risk his heart…"

as the music starts, clouds dissolve into faded flowers, a sunset field, an upward shot of trees, an overhead shot of a small town.

fade to black.

as the music swells, cut to: a swiftly ticking pocketwatch; someone walking through a forest, wearing jeans and boots; a cemetery; sunlight through the trees; a cheerful old white man in a vest.

more images flash swiftly, getting faster and faster: an old white man with a weary expression, leaning his forehead against a wall; hands fixing a pocket watch; an overhead shot of trees; a ghostly figure in a corridor; a weathered cottage in a field; an old man running with two children; a lone headstone; someone running alone in the sunset; a flash of color in the air; a young Black woman sitting on the floor in front of a couch, look sad and holding a cup of tea; two old men kissing; closeup of a man's eye with tears falling; yellow flowers; an old letter; two old men with their foreheads pressed together.

the last image lingers; one man's eyes flicker up to the other's face.

now the images slow. closeup of an old white man from the back, facing the sunlight, dissolving into a sunlit field with text over it reading, "You get used to it." the text is wiped away and replaced by different text: "I hope I never get used to being alone."

cut to: a background of yellow flowers. the cover of E.M. Anderson's The Keeper of Lonely Spirits fades in: a small cottage sitting atop a lonely hill, with smoke drifting from the chimney, surrounded by headstones, yellow flowers, and intermittent trees, with the title "The Keeper of Lonely Spirits" centered in large, yellow, sans-serif text and "a novel, E.M. Anderson" centered in smaller, white, sans-serif text below it. music is XAmbassadors' Unsteady.

#the keeper of lonely spirits #e.m. anderson #books and reading #fantasy books #cozy fantasy #author #queer books

14 notes · View notes

jen-with-a-pen · 2 years ago

Text

Hello! Welcome to my OFFICIAL Masterlist!

Here you'll find links to my written works and other odds and ends. I hope you find what you're looking for– and if not, feel free to drop in a prompt, some inspo, or an idea you think you'd like to see! My ask box is always open and I try to answer any and all messages as soon as possible.

If you don't like reading on Tumblr, don't worry! You can find most, if not all, of my works on my AO3!

Images edited/made by me! I do not own the art for the comics.

Please consider reblogging my work! Reblogging helps others to be able to enjoy mine and other writers' works! Help me help you help others and reblog <3

Spam liking my works will result in an automatic block!

Dirty Dishes

Bucky x F!Reader (CATWS/CACW time periods)

You and Bucky share an apartment in Bucharest. Some nights are fine, others are tough. Nights with storms are especially tough.

WARNINGS: Angst, Bucky having flashbacks, panic/anxiety attacks

18+ Impressions On the Inside of Your Thigh

Beefy!Cowboy!Bucky Barnes x F!RanchHand!Reader

Head Ranch Hand James "Bucky" Barnes has had a very, very long day. Only way to remedy it is to make you squeal.

WARNINGS: grinding, pet names/name-calling, making out, dirty talk, oral sex (f!receiving)

→ Fan Favorite on AO3!

18+ FOXHUNT

WS!Beefy!Bucky Barnes x F!Avenger!Reader

Not only has HYDRA successfully executed their infiltration on S.H.I.E.L.D., but they have also reclaimed their finest weapon. Your safety isn't the only thing that's compromised.

WARNINGS: being hunted, implied non-con elements, violence, cursing, blood, bruising, beating, passing out, forced nudity

18+ Chains Around My Feet

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader; established relationship/friendship and most of work is told out of Reader's POV.

Being held captive and experimented on definitely wasn't in your job description. After what seems like months in HYDRA captivity, rescue finally arrives– but what is rescue if not relief from the suffering?

PLEASE SEE POST FOR FULL LIST OF WARNINGS major warnings: graphics horror elements, blood + gore, whump, hurt and absolutely ZERO comfort, major character betrayal, major character death, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

18+ FILTHY, IMPETUOUS SOULS

parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader

After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.

warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum

Honeysuckle

Bucky x F!Reader

The adventures of one James "Bucky" Barnes and our reader, Honeysuckle, mixed with a lot of mutual pining, with some help from Sam 'Wingman' Wilson. No real story line, just a mix of one shots that might end up loosely connected one day.

WARNINGS: mutual pining, requited love, idiots in love, slow burn, tooth-rotting fluff, maybe a little angst, established friendship, yes this takes place in the Tower

This House Had Swing In It - Coming Soon/Being Rewritten

DEVILISHLY HANDSOME, ENTICINGLY BEAUTIFUL - Coming Soon

FALLEN STARS - Coming Soon

If You Go, I Go

CAFTA!Closeted!Pre-Serum!Steve x CAFTA!Closeted!Sergeant!Bucky Barnes

It's Bucky's last night before deployment. The evening does not go the way Steve, nor Bucky, thought it would.

WARNINGS: angst, loneliness, pining, closeted feelings, messing with canon

Dancing in the Kitchen

slightly possessive!Best Friend!Steve Rogers x Best Friend!F!Reader

Tony dumps you. Steve picks you up and puts you back together again.

WARNINGS: fluff and angst, insecurities, verbal abuse and insults/language, VERY SLIGHT possessiveness, emotions™

18+ ALL TIED UP (IN A BIG RED BOW)

Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!Reader

Inexperienced and still freshly-traumatized by his first heartbreak, Steve Rogers decides to finally move away for college after taking two gap years to work, save, and help his Ma around the house. It’ll be good for him. Away from his ex. Away from his hometown. He's excited to finally chase his dreams and begin again as a promising fine arts student at Richards College. Well, almost. Thanks to a generous scholarship spanning the next four years of his life, Steve is required to participate in on-campus Greek life. It’s simple: join a frat. They shouldn't be too intimidating. At least they're not as bad as they are in the movies, right? Right..?

general series warnings: frat bros being frat bros, sorority sisters being sorority sisters, manipulation, coercion, blackmail, fluff, angst, whump, explicit forced s3xual acts, slow burn, dissociation, nud1ty, dubcon (bordering noncon), forced drvgging, mentions of kidnapping, emotional damage, Steve's just trying his best, Bucky and Sam are major frat bros, Tony and Clint are somewhere I swear

18+ ALL WRAPPED UP (IN A BIG RED BOW) - COMING SOON

The Weight

Modern!Avengers!Stucky

Steve betrays Bucky in the worst way possible.

WARNINGS: angst, cheating, emotional damage/hurt, no comfort, swearing, mentions/desc. of vomiting

Coming Soon

Reading Lists

This House | Honeysuckle | DHEB

Fic Recs | Spicy Fic Recs | Not My Masterlist

OMEGAVERSE

DEVILISHLY HANDSOME, ENTICINGLY BEAUTIFUL

Honeysuckle Vibes

Hurt/Comfort

This House Had Swing In It

This House: The Swing Collection

Tooth-Rotting Fluff

ENEMIES TO LOVERS

@/natrace's Stardust Reblog Challenge Masterlist

@/flordeamatista's Jardin de Poemas Challenge

@/targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge

WHUMPTOBER 2023 MASTERLIST

200 notes · View notes

godspeedviper · 4 months ago

Text

Everything is in order first by length of post, then by alphabetical order of title. Minor descriptions and triggers have been listed alongside each link. Please click through the underlined text to be redirected to the post of your choosing. Each post has more detailed triggers before the actual content so please do heed the warnings. An Ao3 link has been added to every single post at the bottom, so scroll to the end of the fic of your choosing if you would prefer to be redirected to Ao3. Happy reading!

Header and Dividers by Saradika

Fics & Series

100mg of Sunshine - How Sunshine the bird came into Malcolm's life. (SFW || Character Study || Mental Illness)

The Arkham County Jane Doe - Hannibal Lecter x F!Reader x Jonathan Crane +18 (Spitroasting || Manipulation || Obsession || Threesomes || Asylums || Doctor/Patient Relationship)

Bunker Babe - Spencer Reid x Goth!Reader +18 (drug use || semi public sex || non gendered descriptions for reader)

Christian Woman - Southern Jonathan Crane x Preacher's Daughter Reader +18 (mentions of underage drinking & smoking)

Disco Inferno - Jack Delroy x F!Reader +18 (PiV || fingering || drug use || semi public sex)

Fangirl - Joker x F!Reader +18 (CNC/dubcon || knifeplay || blood)

Hell is Real - Jonathan Crane x Psychiatrist Reader (SFW || Character Study || No Smut)

Minuetto - Hannibal x F!Reader +18 (dubcon || clothing kink || pain play || manipulation)

Mr Brightside - Malcolm Bright x The Corinthian +18 (gore || dream sex || murder || dead dove do not eat)

Preacher's Daughter - Jonathan Crane x Preacher's Daughter Reader +18 (gun kink || inappropriate use of prayer || church sex)

Saturday Night Fever - Jack Delroy x F!Reader (SFW || sickfic || fluff)

Sex Magic - Late Night With The Devil x The Love Witch crossover +18 (cults || ritual drug use || blood)

Smoke Break - Jonathan Crane and Harley Quinn share a smoke break for the first time since their fall from grace, reflecting on the evolution of their relationship from student and professor, to colleagues, and now as villains. (can be read as platonic or romantic)

Headcanons

Doctor Characters Handling Your Sick Days (SFW)

Hannibal x Reader with BPD (gender neutral)

Pride at Arkham Asylum (SFW)

Spencer Reid x Reader who dresses vintage (gender neutral)

Spencer Reid x Goth Reader (gender neutral)

Therapist Characters Handling Your "Worst" Symptoms (SFW)

Therapist Characters Handling Your Suspicions (SFW)

Moodboards

Jonathan Crane: Southern Gothic

Poison Ivy: Body Horror

The Riddler: Matthew Gray Gubler Fancast

Hannibal: Made in His Image

Jonathan Crane: Caleb Landry Jones Fancast

Morpheus: The Sandman

Harley Quinn: Halston Sage Fancast

The Corinthian: The Loneliness of the Eye

Selina Kyle: Stealing Happiness

Mad Hatter: Absurdities

Character Tags

Arkham: Arkham Asylum aesthetic (tw medical tools, needles, hospital imagery etc)

Cannibalcore: Hannibal Lecter aesthetic. (tw blood, meat, baroque and gothic religious symbolism)

Clown Prince: Joker aesthetic. (tw knives, blood, violence, antisocial personality, rage art, vent art, scary clowns, etc)

Crane Coded: Jonathan Crane aesthetic (tw religious trauma, frightening artwork, guns, needles etc)

Harleen: Harley Quinn aesthetic (tw violence, hybristophillia)

Hattercore: Jervis Tetch aesthetic (tw medical experiments, paranoia, artistic interpretations of psychoses)

Ivycore: Pamela Isley aesthetic (tw body horror)

Riddles: Ed Nygma/Nashton aesthetic (tw paranoia, horror art)

Selina: Catwoman/Selina Kyle aesthetic (tw crimes, theft, etc)

Challenges

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Recommendations

Fic Recs

Movie Recs

Song Recs

UPDATED 2024/10/01

#masterlist #navigation #housekeeping

12 notes · View notes

bookclub4m · 1 month ago

Text

Episode 200 - Library Fiction

It’s episode 200, which means it’s (finally) time for us to discuss Library Fiction! We talk about the stereotypes and tropes of library fiction, unacknowledged work of library workers,and more. Plus: we talk way more about our actual jobs than we usually do.

You can download the podcast directly, find it on Libsyn, or get it through Apple Podcasts or your favourite podcast delivery system.

In this episode

Anna Ferri | Meghan Whyte | Matthew Murray 🦇 | Jam Edwards

Things We Read (or tried to…)

Labyrinths: Selected Stories & Other Writings by Jorge Luis Borges

The Book That Wouldn’t Burn by Mark Lawrence

Ex Libris: Stories of Librarians, Libraries, and Lore by Paula Guran (below are direct links to many of the stories from this collection)

In the House of the Seven Librarians by Ellen Klages

In Libres by Elizabeth Bear

Those Who Watch by Ruthanna Emrys

Paper Cuts Scissors by Holly Black

Summer Reading by Ken Liu

Magic for Beginners by Kelly Link

With Tales in Their Teeth, From the Mountain They Came by A.C. Wise

The Librarian’s Dilemma by E. Saxey

The Green Book by Amal El-Mohtar

A Woman's Best Friend by Robert Reed

If on a Winter's Night a Traveler by Xia Jia, translated by Ken Liu

The Sigma Structure Symphony by Gregory Benford

The Fort Moxie Branch by Jack McDevitt

The Last Librarian: Or a Short Account of the End of the World by Edoardo Albert

How Can I Help You by Laura Sims

Strange the Dreamer by Laini Taylor

Souls in the Great Machine by Sean McMullen

Other Media We Mentioned

The Library of Mount Char by Scott Hawkins

The Empty Crown by Rosemary Edghill

Meghan meant The Abortion by Richard Brautigan (not Trout Fishing in America)

The Midnight Library by Kazuno Kohara

The Invisible Library by Genevieve Cogman

Bookhunter by Jason Shiga

Unshelved by Gene Ambaum and Bill Barnes

Library Comic by Gene Ambaum and Willow Payne

Welcome to Night Vale

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke

Episode 134 - Piranesi by Susanna Clarke

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

Abbott Elementary

Pounded In The Butt By My Handsome Sentient Library Card Who Seems Otherworldly But In Reality Is Just A Natural Part Of The Priceless Resources Our Library System Provides by Chuck Tingle

My Librarian Is A Beautiful Lesbian Ice Cream Cone And She Tastes Amazing by Chuck Tingle

Party Girl

Public Enemy - Fight the Power

Fictional Librarians

50 Fictional Librarians, Ranked

Rupert Giles (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)

Barbara Gordon (DC Comics)

The Librarian (Discworld)

Lucien (The Sandman)

Evelyn Carnahan (The Mummy)

Marian Paroo (The Music Man)

Librarians (Welcome to Night Vale)

“While their description is never fully given, minor details of their physical characteristics have been described:”

yellow, gnarled teeth

sharp claws and pincers

Wings

Tentacles

thousands of spiny legs

rattles (that make noise when they move)

thoraxes

Links, Articles, and Things

Two-Fisted Library Stories zines

North Boulder Library is ready to open (there’s a slide in image 6!)

15 Librarian & Library Fiction by POC Authors

Every month Book Club for Masochists: A Readers’ Advisory Podcasts chooses a genre at random and we read and discuss books from that genre. We also put together book lists for each episode/genre that feature works by BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, & People of Colour) authors. All of the lists can be found here.

The Reading List by Sara Nisha Adams

What You Are Looking for Is in the Library by Michiko Aoyama, translated by Alison Watts

Cora's Kitchen by Kimberly Garrett Brown

The Next Best Fling by Gabriella Gamez

The Woman in the Library by Sulari Gentill

The Library of the Dead by T.L. Huchu

The Library of Fates by Aditi Khorana

The Plotters by Kim Un-Su

The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches by Sangu Mandanna

The Memory Librarian: And Other Stories of Dirty Computer by Janelle Monáe

Our Missing Hearts by Celeste Ng

The Book of Form and Emptiness by Ruth Ozeki

The Library Thief by Kuchenga Shenjé

The Cartographers by Peng Shepherd

Bookhunter by Jason Shiga

Give us feedback!

Fill out the form to ask for a recommendation or suggest a genre or title for us to read!

Check out our Tumblr, follow us on Instagram, join our Facebook Group or Discord Server, or send us an email!

Join us again on Tuesday, October 1st we’ll be getting ready for spooky season with the Weird West! (That’s Supernatural Horror Westerns)

Then on Tuesday, October 15th it’s time for our “We All Read the Same Book” episode as we discuss A Wizard’s Guide to Defensive Baking by T. Kingfisher.

#episodes #genres #fiction #podcast

3 notes · View notes

chubbygirlmaddy14 · 3 months ago

Text

The Dollmaker: The Next Family

Dale Kobble x reader

A/N: This one is kinda graphic so I am sorry, but things are heating up now!

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1471444437?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create_writer&wp_uname=chubby_girl_maddy16

Chapter 15: The Next Family (1,670 Words)

TW: descriptive murder again, mind controlling, talks of being drunk, devil worship in some way

Y/n POV:

I wake up as the sun peaks through the windows, making me cover my head with the blanket and hide my face in Dale's chest more. Wait.

DALE?

I sit up feeling another person next to me, relieved to see it wasn't some psycho serial killer. Oh, you'll see soon.

I look at the clock that sits next to us seeing it read 10 am, my head still pounding from all the crying I had done just the night before. I look down to see Dale in his dream world, making me smile softly and lean down to kiss his cheek before rolling out of bed.

I make my way downstairs, turning on the stove and pulling out some things to make the both of us breakfast. I didn't wanna eat, but I knew Dale would say something if I didn't. I move slowly, the image of my brother still playing in my mind.

I didn't care he was dead, I confirmed that thought when I first got up, and the tears were from stress. How would I take care of my grandma? What was I gonna do now that he's gone?

My thoughts were pushed away as I felt arms wrap around me as I cut up some fruit, "What are you making us doll?" He whispered in my ear, a blush spreading across my face as I take a deep breath. I don't want a life like this to end, as long as it meant we could be together in the end.

Fuck it, I'd sell my soul to the devil if it had to be that way

I wasn't brave enough to pursue anything though, at least not right now. "Just some pancakes and eggs, is that alright with you?" I turn my head having to look up at him, smiling softly as he looks back at me, "of course!"

He pulls away as he grabs out a few plates for us, setting them down as I put our food on them.

Sitting next to one another, the meal is quiet, not that it was bad though. It was peaceful whenever he was with me, he didn't need to say anything. "Do you wanna talk about it?" he turns to look, my face staying down looking at the left over fruit and egg that sits still.

All I can do is shrug, "I'm not upset that he's dead, hell I'm glad he is! I just don't know what I'm gonna do now."

I sigh softly putting my hands in my face, "I have other family here I need to take care of now, I don't know what to do." He wraps his arms around me and pulls me in close, letting my head just rest of his chest,

"Hey hey it's gonna be okay!" Everything feels okay when I'm with him, how could I want this moment to ever end.

After a few minutes, I sit up and shake my head, clearing my thoughts. "I'm gonna do the dishes, get dressed and head to work," but before I could even start moving, he grabs the plates and all other dishes and cleans them up for me.

"You go take a shower and I will do the dishes okay?" I sit there a bit shocked at his words but soon smile sweetly.

As he turns on the sink, I move my way over to him, pulling him down and giving his cheek one last small kiss before turning around and making my way up the stairs.

Yeah I didn't need to go into work, but Ryan's death didn't affect me as much as other people would react to it. Plus we have a new killer to catch now, I think, my grandma would want me to be searching.

I hop out of the shower, dry off, and put on some more comfier clothes. I knew Carter would understand, and it's not like I'm going into the office in just my pajamas. As I make my way downstairs I see Dale sitting comfortably on my couch, making my just watch.

He looks over my way before standing up and opening his arms. I run into them fast, not wanting to miss a second of him.

He wants me as much as I want him, no I need him. Need him in my life. Need him in my arms. I just want hi- "Don't over work yourself, you understand." I roll my eyes playfully as we pull away making him gasp

"and don't roll your eyes at me young lady!" I laugh before pulling away completely and make my way over to the front door, "whatever you say old man." As I open the door I feel him move up behind me and grab my hips, squeezing them softly.

"You love this old man." His voice dropped, and my clothes almost followed with it. Looking up I smirk softly, "maybe I do... make yourself at home while I'm gone." I shut the door behind me as I bite my lip, making my way to my car.

Longlegs POV:

I stand there, just staring at the door as I catch my breath.

Does she know I'm the one behind all of this? Would she care if she found out? You killed her family for Satan's sake Dale, she probably would!

Shutting the voices out, I decided to look around her home, taking in rooms and art I haven't seen before as I've never been in her house alone.

Once I got my fill of her life behind closed doors, I make my way out and head home to finish packaging up the doll for Mr. Scott.

Maybe I'm holding a grudge, but what he almost did, and I know he's still after her, who would be stupid to not stop attempting to be with someone when they looked at jaw dropping as y/n.

Let alone it actually being y/n.

Ruth wasn't gonna be the one to deliver this, it was my turn. I knew he would be there, at his parents house for Susie's party. She was turning 10 this year, but that's how old she'll always be.

Putting the box in my car, I head back inside to see Ruth on the couch, "you like her." She turns to look at me, the comment making me stop in my tracks.

"Who are you talking about?" I've never mentioned her name, so how could she know? Ruth just laugh as she shakes her head, "She's a sweet one I'll tell you that, always has been.. don't fuck this up for her."

The words linger in my head, and yet I can't bring myself to say anything. I just make my way downstairs, and get ready for tonight.

Time-skip

Singing along to the radio, my thoughts are all filled with her. She would appreciate this, wouldn't she? I'm doing this to protect her. Not me, not anyone else, her. taking a deep breath as I pull up to the car driveway, I bring the box out and move to the front door.

Knocking softly, Joseph ends up opening it, a drunk smile on his face, "hey you're the guy from the farmers market! come on in man!" Seriously? on her birthday?

I roll my eyes as he turns around, walking in with the box, the family pays me no mind. "What's that?" he says as he points to the item in my hand, "a gift from the church! for sweet little Susie over there."

He smiles, thanking he grabs the box, walking over to the family as I just sit aside. It was dark out, they had just gotten back from dinner, and now it was presents time.

She ended up choosing the box first like a smart girl as I make my way over, "can I talk to you really quick?" I say to Joseph making him smile and follow me to another room. Once we're in an office room, I noticed a rolling chair and smiled a bit.

"what did you need me for?" he drunkenly smiled before my fist landing on his face, knocking him out into a daze. Picking him up, I knew they were ready for it not to be noticeable with the state he was in.

Rolling him out tied to the chair, the family mindlessly opens up more gifts, the laughter moving to be quiet not. He starts waking up more and notices the state he's in, becoming sober as he realizes his mouth is shut.

The father went to the kitchen to "grab something," only to come out with their biggest knife, seeing the daughter mesmerized by the doll of her.

Joseph goes to scream as the knife lands in his mom's neck, but my hand was quicker, shutting him up more as we both look at the scene in front of us.

"Shhhh, this was born to happen little scotty! Satan wanted this to happen." Family members one by one were murdered by the dad, Susie being the last victim to take it before he killed himself in front of everyone.

I smile watching them all lay on the ground, Josephs screams turning into sobs as he watches the scene in front of him. "Don't worry, yours will be slow and painful too!" I laugh, pulling anther knife out of my back pocket and running it across his throat deep and slowly.

Untying and ripping off the tape connected to his mouth, I push him hard on the ground making him grab his throat as if that would do anything.

I push the chair back into the office, not caring about the mess of course, and make my way out the door with my little letter sitting right on top of Joseph's body. The car ride back home was filled with the music blasting and all the way turned up.

I did all of this for my own doll.

#dale kobble x reader #dale kobble #dark romance #romance #y/n #nicolas cage #longlegs 2024

4 notes · View notes

becauseimanicequeen · 7 months ago

Text

MASTER LIST: WRITTEN STUFF

Updated: July 11th, 2024.

(Or, more like braindumps.)

I like to have things organized so it was better to start this list sooner rather than later.

I’ve gathered all the links to my written stuff below. These posts include a mix of posts (analyses, theories, ridiculous posts, etc.) that focus on specific series I’m currently into (read: obsessing over).

As usual, they’re listed in alphabetical order.

DEAD FRIEND FOREVER (DFF):

Ep. 1: About the Hand Groping Tee

Ep. 7: Jin’s Reaction to Seeing Non Kiss Phee’s Cheek (brief)

Ep. 11: The Image of Non Being Dead (brief)

Ep. 11: What I Wanted vs What I Got (brief)

Ep. 12: My Expectations for the Last Episode

Ep. 12: My Take on the Ending (brief)

Ep. 12: Open Ending (brief)

Ep. 12: Questions After the Final Episode (brief)

Jin is Not a Flat Character

Non is Still Alive (brief delulu post)

Non’s Effect: Jin Had it Bad for Non (brief)

Non’s Effect: Non’s Effect on Phee, Jin, and Tee (written before ep. 12 was out)

Series Summary: My Highlights from DFF

Series Summary: My Thoughts on DFF

Special Episode? My Wish (brief delulu post)

The Main Characters of DFF

This is Not a Romance (brief)

DEEP NIGHT:

Ep 6: What if Pan ended up kissing Ken (brief)

About Pan, Seji, and Ken having a real conversation about poly (brief)

You have no idea how much I wish for this to be a polyamorous relationship

KINNPORSCHE:

The Comedic Duo in KinnPorsche (pt. 1) (scene)

The Comedic Duo in KinnPorsche (pt. 2) (scene)

KNOCK KNOCK, BOYS!:

Ep 7: I'm enjoying this show so much

MY STAND-IN:

Ep 1: Ming's watch and the box he put it in (brief)

Ep 1: "The Kiss" by Gustav Klimt (brief)

Ep 2: The way Up Poompat expresses emotions (brief)

Ep 3: Thoughts on the ep + my description of the ep (brief)

Pre ep 4 theory: Joe using Ming (brief)

Pre ep 4 theory: Ming will act out of jealousy (brief)

Ep 4: Ming is definitely feeling something for Joe

Ep 4: This made me cry (brief)

Ep 5: Random thoughts (brief)

Ep 7: Crying (ask)

Pre ep 12 prediction: Joe will come back

Ming staying at Joe's place (brief theory)

Sol is annoying (brief)

Sol is annoying again (brief)

This is a normal Tuesday for me

TO BE CONTINUED:

About the puppies (brief)

Achi bringing the past into the present

Ep 1-5: In Defense of Ji

Ep 1-6: Can I get a confession from Achi?

Ep 7: Look at my beloved miscommunicating idiots

Ep 7: This scene broke me in all the best of ways

Ji was always comfortable loving Achi

Running Away is Achi’s M.O.

UNKNOWN:

Ep 6: One of my favorite scenes (brief)

Ep 6: That moment when San Pang asked Yuan if he needed to spell it out (brief)

Ep 6: This episode broke me (brief)

Ep 8: The cleaver (brief)

Ep 9: Yuan's decision to go see Le

I’m up for more pain (brief)

The yearning (brief)

Where's the duck?! (brief delulu post)

WANDEE GOODDAY:

Ep 2: Saving the first kiss (brief)

Pre ep 7: Predictions

Ter is pretty, but also a douche (brief)

The tiger and the rabbit (brief pre-release thoughts)

THE WARP EFFECT:

Ep 1-4: Reaction

Ep 5-6: Reaction

Ep 7-8: Reaction

Ep 9-10: Reaction

Ep 11-12: Reaction

MISCELLANEOUS POSTS:

Bad bitches that have me in a chokehold (ask)

Poly relationships I wish I'd gotten (ask)

Up Poompat Appreciation Post

ADDITIONAL NOTES:

Let me know if a link doesn’t work or if it goes to the wrong post.

#iq master list #master list #master post #my shit

2 notes · View notes

rjalker · 1 year ago

Text

Okay. May as well.

American persimmon (Diospyros virginiana) identification guide

Tumblr version! Shared August 2nd, 2023. It will have as much of the guide as tumblr lets me add.

Oh darn, I reached the limit for photos :( Damn it, tumblr.

You can read and download the full guide here on the web archive.

Make sure you click through the available files to pick the one with the newest date!

You can also buy it as a physical book!

The prices for the physical book are set so that I get $20.

(Archived read-more link. Photos may or may not load.)

A note from the author:

I am transgender and nonbinary, which means in my case that I am neither a man nor a woman, and use it/its as my personal pronouns pronouns, which means if you are referring to me when telling others about this guide, you should refer to me as “it” rather than “he”, “she”, or “they”. EX:

“It wrote a guide on how to identify American persimmons,” or

“We can ask it if it thinks this is a persimmon or a pawpaw.” Ect!

If you're talking to me online or IRL, it's still fine to use the pronouns “you” while addressing me :)

Now lets get identifying!

Starting from the ground up, with the seeds.

American persimmon seeds are large, almost flat, and brown, with a slightly bumpy texture. Viable seeds should be a bit puffy in the middle, and the ones with the best chance of growing will be larger. The following photos show seeds that were collected on October 8th, 2022, in Savannah Georgia, from the three mature trees at Mohawk Lake.

Over four hundred seeds were collected, with plenty more fruit on the ground for wildlife, and even more still up on the branches of the tree waiting to ripen and fall. When collecting native fruit from the wild, always leave behind more than you take! The wildlife relies upon it, and will help the species to spread further.

[Image description start: A photo taken with flash, showing a white hand holding sixteen American persimmon seeds. The seeds are all light brown, shiny in the flash from the camera, and are mostly flat like a coin. The seeds are shaped generally like ovals, with small points on one end where the taproot will emerge. Image description end.]

[Image description start: Hundreds of persimmon seeds sitting together on a black wire basket with thin mesh, in different shades of brown. Some are tan, some are medium brown, some are dark brown. Image description end.]

Seeds can be collected from ripe fruit, or collected from the ground after the fruit has been eaten or rotted away.

If you find a persimmon tree in the wild, look around on the ground for the seeds. After you find a few, you'll be spotting them easily.

[Image description start: A photo of four persimmon seeds sitting on the ground, which is covered in dead twigs and dried leaves of various types. The persimmon seeds are all dark, warm brown, and shine slightly in the sun. Two are together in the bottom left of the photo, one in the center top is partly below an oak leaf, and one in the top right sits on top of a leaf. Image description end.]

Next up: Seedlings!

First, here's a germinated seed, though not the healthiest example! The whole root should be healthy white. I forget why this one got this way.

(Edit: Nope, I've since been told it's normal for their roots to turn black, so it's not an indicator of poor health :))

[Image description start: A photo of a germinated persimmon seed held in a white hand. The seed is dark brown and covered with dirt, with a white taproot emerging from the pointed end, curving up and then straight down. The taproot turns black halfway down and becomes shriveled. Image description end.]

Next, a seedling germinating in the soil. Persimmon seeds will all start out with a red or pink stem, which usually will form a curve above the soil, with the taproot on one end, and the seed still attached to the other.

If the seed above had been left in the soil, the white curve of the root would have moved upward and turned red, like this one:

[Image description start: A photo of a persimmon seedling growing in a plant pot with shredded wood for mulch. The seedling's stem is curving up above the surface of the soil, and is solid pale red, pushing the mulch out of its way. Image description end.]

Sometimes, the seedling will get its leaves stuck in the seed if it was buried to shallowly, or the soil has dried out. If this happens, the seed will lift above the soil with the trapped leaves.

If you're gentle, you can usually use your fingernails to help split the seed open and release the leaves. Find the edges where the leaves begin, and gently pull away.

You can also mist the seedling with water, or pile more soil up to once again cover the seed.

[Image description start. A photo of a persimmon seedling surrounded by shaved wood mulch, with the red stem above the soil, held by a white hand, with the seedling leaves stuck inside the original persimmon seed, which is dark brown and spotted with dirt. Image description end.]

When the seedling has properly emerged above the soil, it will start out with two light green or yellowish, very long seed leaves which will first start out looking like needles:

[Image description start: A photo of a persimmon seedling with woodshaving mulch, with a white hand behind it to provide more contrast. The seedling's stem is bright red, with the tip pointed to the side, where two yellow, needle-like leaves that are almost longer than the stem are positioned. Image description end.]

Very young seedlings will usually start out with the leaves sideways like above, since they've just emerged from the seed and are still getting their bearings.

After a few days, the little needly leaves will uncurl and begin to look like proper leaves. These seed leaves will still be very long and skinny compared to the leaves it will form as it grows.

These will also be the only leaves a persimmon will grow that will be directly opposite eachother on the stem. All new leaves will be alternating, which means if the first starts on the left, the next will be above it on the right, then the left, then right, and so on, forming a zig-zag up the stem.

Here's one seedling from the side and above, showing the opposite seed leaves, and the first alternating leaf that is just starting to form.

[Image description start: Two photos, side by side, of a persimmon seedling, first shown from the side, then from above, with a white hand behind it to add contrast with the dark soil. The seedling's stem is red, and it has two light green, long leaves, emerging directly across eachother on the stem. In the center, a much smaller leaf is starting to grow. Image description end.]

As the seedlings get older and grow more mature-style leaves, you'll begin to see differences between individuals, which might make identifying them a little confusing if you've only ever had one example to compare to.

With plants grown from seed, like most wild plants are, every individual will be subtly different, and unique in their own way. This is where most cultivars come from of fruit varieties, especially apples – a tree grows from seed with positive traits that make it popular, and that individual is cloned over and over again so that everyone can grow it for themselves.

This is also where cultivars of Japanese persimmons came from! The original tree grew from seed, people really loved it, so they cloned it and grafted it onto other trees, and now you can buy them for yourself and know you'll get the exact same fruit!

Here are two seedlings growing next to each other, whose seeds were collected from the same parent tree. You can see the specific differences, and the general similarities.

[Image description start: Two photos, side by side, of two persimmon seedlings growing next to eachother in a plastic shoebox. The first photo is from the side, showing that they have bright red stems, several inches tall, their original seed leaves, and above them, alternating rows of new leaves. The second photo shows them from above, showing the one on the left has rounder leaves that are tinged red, while the one on the left has skinnier, longer leaves that are solid green. Image description end.]

Some characteristics that will always be the same are: Leaves with smooth edges, without any serrations at all. Serrations are when the edge of a leaf is jagged, like the teeth on a saw, or a knife.

Another feature is that the central vein on the leaf will stand out compared to the rest of the leaf's surface, and in persimmons, might be red, pink, yellow, or sometimes white.

Sometimes the new leaves will be red in color, and that's perfectly normal, you don't need to be alarmed! It depends on the individual, some have it, some don't.

The next picture shows many seedlings older than the two shown above, grown in a larger plastic shoebox. You can see that some have red-tinged leaves, while others have plain green.

[Image description start: A photo of dozens of persimmon seedlings growing in a deep, clear plastic shoebox, each several inches tall and covered with leaves. Some of the leaves are red, some are green. All the visible stems are still red. Image description end.]

If you are growing persimmons from seed, the deeper the container you can start them in, the faster and healthier they'll grow! This plastic container was wide enough to sow forty seeds in, and deep enough that they could all form good starter roots before being transplanted elsewhere. Most of these I've planted in the woods or other suitable wild areas.

Seedlings will retain their red stem for a few months after they germinate, then it'll turn brown, then, as winter approaches, it'll turn into an actual woody stem. At this point in the tree's growth, you'll be able to see the way the stem literally forms a zig-zag, sometimes subtle, sometimes stark, with a leaf node at each point.

Now for...teenaged plants! No longer a baby seedling, but not yet so tall it's way above your head.

If branches are within your reach, look for a twig:

If it's winter, you will look for dark grey or black, teardrop shaped leaf buds at each point in the zig-zag of the stem:

[Image description start: A cropped, close up photo of a dormant persimmon stem held in front of a white hand. The twig is grey-brown, with dark, pointed buds at the corner of a bend, and at the tip. Image description end.]

If it's early spring, around March, you might find some where the buds are starting to open:

[Image description start: A cropped photo of a persimmon twig, with light grey bark, and light green, folded leaves starting to emerge from the dark buds at each node. Image description end.]

If it's later in Spring, usually late March, you should start to look for small, light green, rounded leaves like this:

[Image description start: A photo of a persimmon twig held up by a white hand, with sunlit trees in the background. Many small, light green leaves emerge from the grey twig on light green, new-growth stems, branching off as they grow. The leaves closer to the twig are deeper green, and those at the very end of the new growth are almost translucent, and slightly yellow. All have smooth edges, with light green central leaf veins. Image description end.]

Unlike seedlings, the new growth on persimmons over a year old will start out light green until it turns to wood later in the season.

As the season progresses, the leaves will take on more even shapes, always alternating on the left and right side of the stem, forming the zig-zag we talked about earlier.

Here's a new-growth stem from April:

[Image description start: A photo of a persimmon stem held up by a white hand ,with dried leaves and sticks covering the ground in the background. The leaves on the plant are all light green, with smooth edges, and shaped like a pointed oval. The leaf-stem on each leaf is pale pink, fading to yellow, then to white, on the central leaf vein. The new-growth twig is light green. Image description end.]

And here's one from June with red central leaf veins. Each individual is different, so you should be prepared to see different color variations, though they'll always keep the smooth edges, central leaf vein that is visible, alternating zig-zag pattern, and pointed buds at the base of each leaf.

This plant was growing in more shade than most of the other individuals shown in photos here, so its leaves are darker green.

Persimmons can thrive in full sun and part shade, and even grow in full shade, and their leaves will change to be lighter or darker depending on the levels of sunlight, and depending on the individual. Plants in full sun don't have to work as hard to photosynthesize, so they'll usually be lighter green, reflecting a lot more away. Those growing in shade, though, want to grab as much light as they can, so will tend to be darker so they can absorb more light.

[Image description start: A close up photo of a persimmon stem, held against a white hand. The stem is dark brown, with dark brown pointed buds at the base of each leaf, with slightly reddish tips. The leaves are dark green, with the leaf-stem dark pink, and the central leaf-vein fading from pink to yellow. Image description end.]

The trunk of the tree at this point will usually be a light brown or grey, with lighter raised lenticels, which are how the tree breathes. On persimmons, they look like little dots or dashes.

[Image description start: A cropped photo of the trunk of a young persimmon, with dried leaves and some brambles in the background. The trunk is very light, grey-brown, with lighter tan, small lenticel lines scattered over it. Image description end.]

As the trees get older, their bark will become craggier and craggier, until it forms the very distinctive “alligator skin” that mature persimmons have.

Here's a photo of a young adult tree, old enough to flower, but still small enough I can put both my hands around the trunk:

[Image description start: A cropped photo of a young-adult persimmon, with a white hand at the bottom partly wrapped around it. The bark is very light grey-tan, with deep fissures running up and down and across, forming square-ish raised sections, with orange in the fissures between them. Some serrated leaves of Virginia creeper is next to the hand. Image description end.]

This tree is, for future reference, a male.

Here's another tree of similar age, though this one is female. But

we'll get to those details later! Sex does not determine the type of bark, I just thought I'd mention it.

Remember that each individual is different, so even if you have a male tree with X kind of bark and a female with Y kind of bark, that doesn't mean that's a real pattern! It's just up to the genetic lottery.

[Image description start: A photo of a young-adult persimmon tree. Its bark is light grey, with deep vertical fissures that are red-orange in the center, most of them running up and down, and a few shallower ones running left to right, giving the bark a craggy, ropey appearance. Image description end.]

The older the tree gets, the craggier the bark will become! The raised sections will form more square-like shapes rather than stripes or ropes.

Here's one example, by kent_ozment on iNaturalist.org:

[Image description start: A cropped photo of an adult persimmon tree in the daytime, with the ground behind it covered in brown dried leaves. The bark is grey, with deep fissures running between and around large chunks of bark. Image description end.]

And now, we can talk about telling male trees from female!

Both trees produce flowers, which are great for pollinators, but only females produce fruit.

Male trees produce pollen, which is then carried by insects to the flowers of a female tree, pollinating the female's flowers and allowing it to form viable seeds that will grow into the next generation.

Lets start out with flower buds.

Like leaves, flower buds emerge at each node on the stem, or each point on the zig-zag.

The flower buds start out green, and can blend in with the leaves, especially if they're higher up in the tree.

Here's a zoomed in photo of female flower buds, high up on an adult tree, just starting out, on April 30th. Note that there's one bud per node.

[Image description start: A zoomed photo of a persimmon's stems, backlit by the sun. The leaves are still small and light green in their new spring growth, and at the base of each leaf is a small darker silowet, like a teardrop. Image description end.]

(Yes, I am spelling it silowet. I am officially staging a one-othran revolt against the overly complicated accepted spelling.)

And here's some male flower buds, and note that there are several buds per node.

Male trees form more flowers per part of tree than females do, because the male puts all its energy into producing as much pollen as possible, to attract insects that will carry that pollen to a female tree.

This photo is from April 17th.

[Image description start: A zoomed photo of persimmon stems overlapping against a bright sky, casting them into shadow. The leaves are still small, in their spring growth. At the base of each leaf are small, darker flower buds like pointed ovals, with anywhere from one to three at each node. Image description end.]

Later the buds will turn white and yellow, then start to open, and become more recognizable as flowers.

Here's a female flower bud that's closer to opening. The green cap behind it is called a calyx, and is what you see when the flower bud is still fully closed. This calyx, or cap, remains on the fruit even after it falls, and will dry and turn black.

[Image description start: A zoomed photo of a persimmon stem with larger, spring-green leaves, with the focus on a female flower bud, which has a square-like calyx behind it, and its white petals still shut, pointed outward like a small pyramid. Image description end.]

Here's some female flowers at eye level, with the photo by kcthetc1 on iNaturalist.org

[Image description start. A close up photo showing two female persimmon flowers, each at the base of a different leaf. The flowers have four yellow rounded petals, with large green leaf-like caps clasping the base. Image description end.]

That large calyx is also a way of telling female trees from males, since it's much larger on females.

And here's some male flowers, along with some still-closed flower buds:

[Image description start: A zoomed photo of several persimmon twigs, with light green leaves, each with several flowers or flower buds emerging from the same node. The open flowers are thin, shaped like vases, with four pointed petals at the opening. Less mature flower buds are yellow-white, and pointed. Further back can be seen more flower buds that are still green. Image description end.]

And some male flowers at eye level, with the photo by kcthetc1 on iNaturalist.org.

[Image description start: A close up photo of several male persimmon flowers, with two or more hanging from the base of each leaf. The flowers are shaped like skinny, upside-down vases, with white sides and short, curled yellow petals, with small green bases holding them onto the stem. Image description end.]

And a great photo showing just how many male flowers can crowd onto a small section of branch:

[ID: A photo of a male persimmon tree's branch at eye level, with several dozen open white flowers and closed green flower buds crowding the wooden stem below the leaves all the way up until the branch leaves the frame of the photo. Image description end.]

The flowers are very popular with native bees like bumblebees, carpenter bees, and more. All the flowering-age trees near me have their flowers at least 20ft off the ground, so I haven't been able to closely observe any of the visiting species.

Hopefully in a few years when my seedlings are old enough to flower, I'll be able to tell you more about the species that visit them :)

The male flowers will drop to the ground below the tree once they're too old, and you can find them if you look carefully, or if there's a convenient sidewalk:

[Image description start: A slightly blurry photo of a dark sidewalk, covered with many brown, shriveled male persimmon flowers, with their smaller, clasping calyxs still green. One single fresher flower sits near the center of the photo, the petals still white, not yet baked by the sun. Image description end.]

Beneath female trees, you'll be able to find unpollinated flowers, as well as aborted fruits. These ones were from July:

[Image description start: A photo of nine unripe persimmon fruits of various sizes sitting on a paved sidewalk next to a white hand for scale. The largest fruit is smaller than a golf ball, the smallest is about the size of a marble. Most of them are green, but two are brown, and one has turned almost black. Most of them still have their green calyxs attached on the top, still green on some, and brown and dry on others. Image description end.]

There's a lot of reasons a tree might drop some unripe fruits, like improper pollination, insect damage, and simply strong winds. Don't be concerned or disappointed if you find some dropped fruits under the tree, they'll usually be plenty more that will fully ripen!These fruits absolutely cannot be eaten at this stage of unripeness, so don't try unless you want to taste something absolutely disgusting. You can, however, dissect them with a knife, or just squishing under your shoe, to see if they've got seeds in them so you can see what they look like.

Here's another handful of early-dropped fruits from the same group of trees in August. See how they've gotten bigger overall?

[Image description start: A photo of a white hand holding nine unripe persimmons, with green plants visible on the ground in the background. The smallest fruit is the size of a gumball, the largest is about the size of a golf ball. Most of them are green, one is yellow-green, and a few are brownish. All but two still have their calyxs attached, now shriveled and black. Image description end.]

Any time you find unripe fruits on the ground, you can look up (or maybe slightly to the side, if you're on a hill or there have been strong storms recently) and see if you can spot more fruit on the tree.

Here's some fruits still attached to the tree, from the same tree and day as the photo above. Please also note the webworm moth nest, and the leaves that have been eaten! Webworm moths love persimmons, and can help you identify them!

[Image description start: A zoomed photo of a persimmon's top branches against a clear blue sky. Many of the twigs are missing leaves, with some of the leaves visibly missing sections from caterpillar bites. On the very top fork of branches is the grey web of webworm moths. Scattered on the branches in front and below the web are unripe fruits, which are dark green against the sky. The leaves that have not been eaten have black spots on them. Image description end.]

And you notice those black spots?

They're another great way to identify persimmons later in the year! You don't need to be worried or try to get rid of them, the trees do just fine on their own.

Persimmon leaves will start to change color for fall in late October, going from green to yellow while the fruit continues to ripen, and starts to fall properly.

If the persimmon tree is growing near evergreen species, or species that hang onto their leaves longer, it will stand out very nicely against the green.

Here's a photo of one of the persimmon trees with its leaves turning yellow, with several species of southern oaks on either side, which keep their leaves longer. In front of the persimmon is a large shining sumac, which are the red leaves you can see.

[This is the part where tumblr won't let me add any more photos. RIP]

Imagine a photo of a persimmon tree in a line of otherwise green trees, with its canopy mostly yellow. Below it is a sumac tree with green and red leaves.

And now please imagine a close up of some of those yellow leaves, with fruit, and another webworm web!

Imagine a zoomed photo of over a dozen persimmons in various stages of ripeness hanging from a persimmon tree, whose leaves are yellow or green, covered in red or black spots. A web with dead leaves inside sits in the center of the frame behind the fruits. The fruits range in color from yellow, to orange, to deep pink.

And finally...

Ripe fruits!

Imagine a photo of a white hand holding up two ripe persimmons. Both are orange and slightly transluscent, with their caps shriveled and black.

These will start to fall usually in October, but can cling to the tree for a while. If you're able to, laying a tarp below the tree to catch them will help keep them clean. If not, make sure to rinse them well before eating.

The skin is edible, but the seeds and cap are not.

The fruit should be very soft to the touch, almost like goo. If it's hard, don't eat it yet! It'll still be astringent. Let it sit in the sun until it ripens more.

If you are collecting lots of fruits, plan ahead if possible, and save your egg cartons! Put one persimmon in each spot that holds an egg, and it'll keep them from getting squished while you're moving them.

The ripe fruits will be eaten by many species of animals, including deer, raccoons, and even black bears if you have them in the area!

Unless the tree is on private property where wildlife can't get to it, always make sure to leave behind more than you take! Wildlife need the food too, and they'll help the species spread through their scat.

If you're growing the tree in your own yard, do whatever you want, lol.

You and your friends and family can also help persimmons spread by planting the seeds in suitable wild areas, or in containers to cold stratify over the winter, as you collect them from the fruit.

And if you don't want to grow the trees yourself, don't throw the seeds away! They're easy to clean after you eat the fruit. Simply allow them to dry once they're clean, and next time you go out hiking or walking near wild areas, shove some in your pockets and throw them as you go!

You can also see if anyone in your local community would like them, or even sell them online.

Persimmons can be eaten whole (spitting out the seeds), or made into jellies, jams, and a lot of other stuff.

Recipes!

I don't have any persimmon-specific recipes, but here's a good recipe for cheesecake that even I like, and tastes amazing with added fruit!

If I find more recipes that work well with persimmons, I'll add them here in later updates for this guide!

Easy Cheesecake:

Homemade Cheesecake Crust:

At least 1 1/2 cups of cinnamon gramcrackers, crushed as small as you can get them. We usually just do one pack of crackers rather han measure.

1/4 cup sugar

2 teaspoons vanilla (and yes, we use the cheapest vanilla extract we can get.)

1 stick of salted butter, melted

Step 1 of 1: Mix all prepared ingredients in a large bowl, then press into pie dish.

You can also just buy a premade crust, but they don't have as much flavor. With this recipe, the crust is half the delight.

Cheesecake filling:

Two eight-ounce packages of cream cheese, At Room Temperature.

Sit them out hours ahead of time if it's cold in your kitchen. They need to be warm if you want the cheesecake to be smooth. If they're still cold, it'll be lumpy, which isn't as good of a texture. You can technically melt them slowly in the microwave but that's a lot of effort.

2/3s cup of powdered/confectionier's sugar...or just regular sugar if you're lazy like we are.

2 large eggs, at room temperature

One teaspoon of vanilla

However much fruit you want to mix in. You can literally add as much or little as you want as long as it'll fit in the pie crust.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit, or 176 Celsius

Step 1: Mix the room temperature cream cheese with the sugar until smooth.

Step 2: Add eggs and vanilla, and combine.

You can either add fruit now, mixing it in, or put a layer directly on the crust, with the cheesecake filling on top, or reversed!

Bake for 30 minutes, remove to wire rack and cool. Keep, covered, in refrigerator until ready to serve, and refrigerate or freeze leftovers.

#described images #American persimmon #diospyros virginiana #plant identification #tree identification #wild foraging #wild edibles #wild fruit #edible fruit #persimmon #common persimmon #foraging #gardening #seed saving #diospyros #photography

3 notes · View notes

crissiebaby · 2 years ago

Text

DiapOut: Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: This series contains diaper usage, public humiliation, masturbation, hypermessing, sissification, WAM, mental regression, and other ABDL themes. If you haven’t read the first chapter and want to catch up, be sure to check out the link in the description. I hope you enjoy!

-------------------------------------------------------------

Tapping her foot anxiously at the far end of the obstacle course, Kyoko watched in a mix of frustration and anger as the opposing team got the early lead. “What is that idiot doing?” she mumbled to herself. She was already preparing some choice words for Cade once this leg of the competition was over.

“Wahoo!! Go Misa! Slide down that butt like your life depends on it!” shouted Lelaya with her hands cupped around her mouth, blissfully unaware of the daggers that were being shot in her direction through Kyoko’s pupils. Suddenly, she pointed forward, bouncing up and down, before placing a hand on Kyoko’s shoulder, “Look! Look! Your poopy friend found his diaper pin too!”

Rolling her eyes and shrugging Lelaya’s hand off of her shoulder, a still pissed-off Kyoko refused to let the hope of her team advancing to the second stage put her at ease. “C’mon Rupert! You better catch up!”

-------------------------------------------------------------

Laying a thin, white mat down on the top of the slide, Misa positioned herself in the center and placed her hands on the surface, ready to push off. “Didn’t expect to be used as a baby wipe today but whatever,” she said, chuckling to herself about how ridiculous this all was. If it hadn’t been for Ayaya’s begging, she never would’ve done something this humiliating. It was all she could do now to block out what this show was going to do to her image and focus on the cash prize waiting at the end of all this.

Nudging herself forward, Misa looked over the edge of the rounded slide. It wasn’t super long, being two rounded sides with a divot covered in chocolate pudding going down the center to make it look like a messy butt. She’d be at the bottom in seconds, so she wasn’t expecting it to be all that thrilling. It was, however, quite steep. While she had no issues with heights on a regular basis, the thought of face-planting becoming an internet meme was more than enough to make her overly cautious.

Taking a good, deep breath, Misa hardened her resolve and lurched forward, sending her careening down the center of the slide. “WoooooOOOOOOO!” she shouted as she picked up speed quickly, thanks to the pudding making the surface extra slick. Much to her surprise, other than a small bump midway down, it was a pretty smooth ride. Even though she didn’t want it to appear like she was enjoying herself too much, she couldn’t help but crack a smile as she arrived at the bottom of the bottom.

“Alright, Misa! Let’s goooo!” cheered Ayaya-Girl, waving for Misa to hurry over so that she could continue with the next portion of the race.

Unfortunately, just as Misa was about to tag Ayaya in for the next leg of the race, CassiRole chimed in to stop them. “Ah, ah, ah! Don’t forget, you still need to find the second diaper pin,” she said mockingly in a sing-songy voice.

“Shoot!” yelled Misa. How could she have forgotten to look for the other diaper pin?! Hopefully, this cost them the lead. She stopped dead in her tracks, ready to make her way back toward the slide as quickly as possible. However, due to the pudding-coated floor and her reckless haste, she lost her footing and was sent flailing toward the ground, landing with a hard “oof!” on her stomach.

The audience went wild with uproarious laughter as they all soaked in Misa’s humiliating fall. Picking her head off of the ground, Misa could only groan in despair as the self-fulfilling prophecy she’d had at the top of the slide came true in the worst of ways. Not only did she fall on her face, but now her diaper was brown and droopy thanks to the puddle of pudding that she landed in. Wiping the chocolate pudding away from her eyes and mouth, she shook off her tumble and waddled her way back to the top of the slide, picking up her sliding mat along the way.

Meanwhile, Rupert was just getting started with his first run at the slide. Unlike Misa, he was not at all concerned with looking silly on television. Grabbing his white mat, he dove onto the slide head-first with reckless abandon. “Geronimo!” he screamed as he came down the slide at an even faster speed than Misa, causing the basin of pudding at the bottom to splatter outward in all directions.

Covered head to toe in a light layer of creamy chocolate, Rupert whipped his hair back and looked around the nearby area for the second diaper pin. “Crap, where the heck is it?!” he said, his searching getting a bit more frantic.

“You must’ve missed it on the slide somewhere!” Zeke said, calling out to Rupert from the barrier to the next leg of the race, “Go back to the top and see if you can find anything.”

Groaning, Rupert was not enthused with climbing a set of stairs to get back to the top. That was the least of his worries, though. In his panic-fueled search, he’d wandered onto the Wetters’ half of the course just in time for Misa to come barreling down the slide again.

“LOOOOK OOOUT!” cried Misa in an attempt to get Rupert to move. Sadly, her words came too soon as she collided with her opponent's legs, sweeping them out from under him and knocking herself off of her own mat. A chorus of pained “oohs” emanated from the live audience.

Off to the side of the stage, several crew hands shot each other nervous looks, wondering if they needed to pause the segment to check on the contestants. However, right as one of the safety team was about to leap into action, Jackson was there to hold him back, nodding to Cassi to continue the show.

“Now that’s what we call a DiapOut! Am I right folks?” said Cassi, fixing a bright smile on her as she laughed along with the audience anxiously. In the back of her mind, she was cussing out the two dumbass contestants who ran into each other. If someone gets hurt and ruins her show before it even airs, there would be hell to pay.

Attempting to pick herself up off the floor, Misa squirmed her way out from under Rupert’s heavy legs, recognizing that there was no time to lose. Having already been down the same slide twice, she was at a loss as to where the damn diaper pin was hidden. Breathing heavily, she looked back toward the slide, wondering if there was some way to see it from the base. Squinting her eyes, she noticed a tiny divot in the middle of the slide that had been made to look like a puckered booty hole. With nothing else to go off of, she assumed that must be where the pin has been stashed.

Feeling a bit sorer than she was a minute ago, Misa trudged back up the stairs, ready to take her third trip down the slide. Rupert, on the other hand, was still reeling from the impact. He rolled over and sat up, deciding to take a small breather as he watched Misa. He was terrible at finding things, so wherever Misa found her pin, his would likely be somewhere similar.

Rupert’s actions, while logical, did not appease his teammates. “Rupert, get off your ass! We gotta move!” said Zeke, trying his hardest to get his friend moving again to no avail. Turning his head back, he stared up at Kyoko’s livid expression, a touch of concern welling up in the pit of his stomach.

Sitting back down at the top of the slide, Misa also felt exhaustion start to kick in. “Damn Mia…you had it so lucky…no stairs on your section…” she muttered back at her pudding-drenched friend in between breaths. Cracking her carpal tunnel-riddled fingers, she nudged herself forward once more, slapping a hand down behind her to keep her from moving too fast.

Inch by inch, Misa lowered herself down, making sure to keep as steady as possible. However, there was only so much she could do. The mat under her body began to shift further and further from her stabilizing hand until eventually, she couldn’t hang on anymore. Abandoning her sliding mat, she leaped for the small hole in the center of the slide, grabbing onto the edge just barely.

Down on the ground, Rupert watched as Misa pulled off quite an impressive stunt. Looking back toward his slide, he spotted the same divot that Misa had. “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he said to himself, finally getting off of the ground as she lined himself up with the hole.

Unlike Misa, Rupert was much taller and more agile. While someone her size would need to go down the slide to reach that point, he was certain that he was capable of reaching it from the bottom. With a running start, he attempted to dash up the slide as far as he could, diving for the butt hole and snagging it with his fingertips. His hands were regrettably too slick, though, causing him to lose his grasp and slide back down.

Misa did not have the same issue though, gaining a stronger handhold due to the direction she came from. Sticking her arm inside the hole, she instantly felt the end of the diaper pin in her hand. “I dunno who would stick a diaper pin up their ass but sorry in advance, friend,” she joked, slapping the side of the butt as she clutched the diaper pin and yanked it out.

“And with that, Misa has retrieved the second pin! Rupert will have to hurry if he wants to stop his team from falling behind again!” said Cassi, easing back into a more casual posture now that both contestants appeared to have fully recovered. They would need to overhaul this section of the course for future players to prevent that from ever happening again.

Cruising down the slide for the final time, Misa moved as fast as her droopy diaper out allow it as she delivered the two enlarged diaper pins to Ayaya. “Go, go!” she said exasperated as she crumpled to the floor, “After this is all over…I’m not leaving my bed for like…a week…maybe two…no, definitely a month…”

Tucking the diaper pins under her arm, it was now Ayaya’s turn to be the hero. All she had to do was make it up a padded staircase and recover the cloth diaper at the top. Sure, the stairs were covered in lotion, but so long as she stepped lightly, she assumed it wouldn’t be too hard. More importantly, she was just happy that her task didn’t require taking a pudding bath. The last thing she needed was to get chocolate in her hair.

Running up to the staircase, Ayaya planted her foot down on the first step, her confidence at an all-time high.

*SLIP!*

The moment Ayaya put her weight on her foot, it shot out from under her, sending her crashing down to the floor. “What the-” she screamed as the crowd around broke into hysterics. As she placed her hand on the first step to help herself back up, she slipped yet again. Contrary to her initial assessment, this staircase was going to prove a much bigger nuisance than originally thought.

TO BE CONTINUED…

« PREVIOUS l FIRST l NEXT »

-------------------------------------------------------------

Heyyo! Can't wait until next week for more DiapOut!? Subscribe to my Patreon, where you can get early access to main series chapters like this one, as well as exclusive content you won't find anywhere else! Join my dollhouse at patreon.com/crissiebaby!

Edited by AllySmolShork

1 note · View note