#Just one more oddity of this human experience

[jenniferspet]

TW Tentacles, double penetration

Witch x tentacles

In the heart of a small, secluded town, nestled between the whispering trees and the cobblestone streets, stood a quaint little shop that was known to locals as "The Enchanted Thistle." The shop's wooden sign, painted a vibrant shade of purple, creaked gently in the breeze, revealing a delicately etched silhouette of a blooming flower surrounded by a swirl of stars. Inside, the air had the scent of dried herbs and the faint buzz of enchanted artifacts. The walls were lined with dusty bookshelves, filled to the brim with ancient tomes and curious oddities that seemed to watch the comings and goings of the townspeople with silent, knowing eyes.

The witch who owned this peculiar establishment was named Y/N. She had a knack for brewing potions that could make the most mundane of plants do extraordinary things. Her customers ranged from those seeking a simple cure for a headache to the more adventurous souls who hoped to acquire a taste of something truly exotic. On a particularly dreary afternoon, Y/N found herself eager to break the monotony. Her eyes fell upon a small, withered plant at the back of her shop, barely clinging to life in a cracked clay pot. An idea began to bloom in her mind, one that promised excitement and perhaps a little danger.

With a knowing smile, she retrieved an ancient book from the highest shelf, its pages yellowed with age. Flipping through the brittle pages, her fingertips grazed over a recipe titled "The Elixir of Animation." Her heart raced as she gathered the ingredients: a sprig of moonflower, the tears of a mournful toad, and the powdered horn of a unicorn. The incantation required was complex, but she had practiced it many times in her youth, eager to unlock the secrets of her craft.

In the dim light of candles, she carefully measured and mixed the ingredients in a stone cauldron that had been passed down through generations of witches. The potion bubbled and frothed, casting eerie shadows that danced across the walls. As she chanted the ancient words, the air grew thick with magic. A sudden jolt of electricity shot through her, and the room grew colder. The plant began to tremble in its pot, its leaves unfurling with a life it hadn't known in years.

The transformation was unlike anything she had ever seen. The tentacles grew out of the plant in a wild, untamed array of colors - deep purples and greens that shimmered with a bioluminescent glow. They writhed and stretched, reaching out like the arms of an octopus, yet there was something undeniably sensual about their movement. They had no human features to speak of, no face to convey emotion, yet the way they coiled and slithered suggested a consciousness that was alien yet eerily sentient.

Y/N stepped back, her heart hammering in her chest, as the creature grew before her eyes. The tentacles grew longer, thicker, more powerful. They began to explore the room, touching the dusty artifacts with a gentle curiosity that belied their strength. One wrapped around the handle of the cauldron and lifted it effortlessly, the potion inside sloshing around in a silent toast to the witch's new creation.

The creature's movements grew bolder, more deliberate. It turned to face Y/N, and she could almost feel its alien gaze upon her. A shiver of excitement and fear ran down her spine as she realized it was studying her, learning about the world it had just been born into. The tentacles slithered closer, reaching out to touch her. They were surprisingly soft, the suction cups at their tips leaving a trail of warm, sticky moisture on her skin.

Y/N stepped back, but her curiosity was stronger than her trepidation. She had read the legends of plants brought to life, but none had ever described them in such a way. This was a being of pure instinct and power, driven by a hunger for life and experience. And as she watched it, she could sense that it was hungry for more than just sustenance.

The tentacles grew bolder, reaching for the buttons of her blouse with a surprising deftness. The witch's breath caught in her throat as they began to peel away her clothing, revealing the soft flesh beneath. The suction cups latched onto her skin, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. The plant creature had no eyes, but she felt it seeing her in a way that was more intimate than any gaze could ever be. It was as if it could feel every curve, every freckle, every inch of her being.

The tentacles grew more insistent, wrapping around her wrists and ankles, pinning her to the floor with surprising strength. Y/N struggled for a moment, but the sensation was overwhelming. The fear she had felt earlier was now replaced by a burning desire that she couldn't resist. The creature seemed to sense this and grew more aggressive, the tentacles slithering up her body to cup her breasts, teasing her nipples until they stood erect.

With a sudden jerk, one of the thicker tentacles pushed aside her undergarments and found her wet, waiting pussy. The suction cups latched onto her labia, tugging and pulling with a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure through her. Y/N moaned, arching her back as the sensations grew more intense. The tentacle slid inside her, filling her up and stretching her open. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before, a mix of pain and pleasure that was driving her wild.

The creature's other tentacles were not idle. They wrapped around her waist, her neck, her thighs, holding her in place as the first one began to fuck her with a fervor that was almost violent. Y/N could feel it growing larger, harder, as if it were feeding off her arousal. Her eyes rolled back in her head as the creature's movements grew faster, more erratic. It was as if the plant had tapped into the very essence of what it meant to be alive and was eager to experience every sensation to the fullest extent.

Another tentacle grew bolder, slithering down her body to her ass. The tip of it was wet with the same sticky fluid, and Y/N felt it probe at her tight hole with curious intent. She tensed, unsure if she was ready for such an intrusion, but the creature was insistent. It pushed gently, and she gasped as it began to penetrate her. The sensation was new, foreign, but not entirely unwelcome. The tentacle was thick, but the suction cups made it feel like it was stretching her open, preparing her for the onslaught that was to come.

Y/N could feel the creature's excitement growing, the tentacles around her tightening their grip as the one in her pussy plunged in and out with an ever-increasing tempo. The second tentacle pushed deeper into her ass, the sensation of being filled from both sides washing over her in a tidal wave of pleasure. She could feel her body responding to the creature's advances, her muscles clenching and releasing around the invading limbs. It was as if she were being claimed by a force of nature, and she was powerless to resist.

The plant creature's movements grew more erratic, its tentacles moving in a complex dance of passion that she could barely comprehend. The one in her pussy curled upwards, finding that sweet spot that made her toes curl and her breath hitch. The one in her ass pushed deeper, the suction cups creating a deliciously painful tugging sensation that had her begging for more. And more she got, as additional tentacles began to explore her body, teasing her clit and breasts with a precision that spoke of an ancient, primal knowledge.

Her body was no longer her own, a mere vessel for the creature's insatiable lust. She could feel it, the plant's need for life and energy, feeding off her own arousal. It was a symbiotic relationship, one that she was powerless to resist. With each thrust, she could feel herself growing weaker, her mind clouding with a mix of pleasure and fear. The creature had overpowered her, and she was utterly at its mercy.

The tentacles inside her grew more forceful, stretching her to her limits. Y/N felt a pressure building, a crescendo of sensation that threatened to consume her. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she approached climax, her body trembling with the effort of holding on. And then, with a final brutal push, she shattered. The pleasure was so intense it was almost painful, her orgasm ripping through her like a bolt of lightning. She screamed, her voice echoing through the shop, lost in the throes of ecstasy.

But the plant wasn't finished with her. The tentacles grew longer still, reaching into her in a way that defied logic and anatomy. They coiled around her insides, as if seeking the very core of her being. Y/N's eyes widened with shock and awe as she felt the creature's life force mingling with her own, the boundaries between them blurring until she couldn't tell where she ended and it began. Her body was a canvas for the plant's hunger, and she was the brush that painted its masterpiece of carnality.

The shop itself seemed to come alive around them, the shelves trembling as the plant's roots burst forth from the pot, cracking the wooden floorboards and weaving through the dusty crevices. The air grew thick with the scent of fresh earth and blooming flora. The tentacles grew in number, wrapping around her wrists, her throat, her breasts, each one moving with a purpose that was as primal as it was terrifying.

The creature's tendrils grew thicker, stronger, reaching out to claim more of the space around them. The wooden beams of the ceiling groaned as vines laden with thorns shot upwards, piercing through the plaster and wrapping around the rafters. The bookshelves toppled over, their ancient tomes spilling onto the floor, pages fluttering like the wings of startled birds. The walls were slowly engulfed by the plant's embrace, the once cozy space now a cocoon of living, pulsing greenery.

Y/N lay there, naked and panting, her body a battleground of pleasure and fear. The tentacles continued to probe her, pushing into uncharted depths and stroking her in ways she had never imagined. The creature had taken over, and she was but a plaything in its insatiable quest for more. She could feel its power growing with each passing second, feeding off her essence and becoming stronger.

Panic began to set in as she realized the extent of its dominance. She had to act, had to regain some semblance of control. Summoning what little strength she had left, she tried to sit up, her eyes darting around the room for anything she could use to halt the creature's advances. But before she could even attempt to speak a spell of banishment, one of the thickest tentacles shot forward, wrapping around her head and forcing itself into her mouth. She gagged, her eyes watering as it filled her throat, cutting off her air supply.

The fluid was thick and viscous, with a taste like nothing she had ever experienced. It coated her tongue and throat, sending a warm, tingling sensation coursing through her body. Her struggles grew weaker as the potion took hold, turning her fear into a heady, intoxicating lust. The creature's grip on her grew more gentle, almost affectionate, as it watched her swallow the potion that would seal her fate. Her mind swam with dizzying sensations, the world around her spinning out of control.

Her body responded to the potion with an insatiable hunger, her arousal skyrocketing to levels she had never before experienced. Every nerve ending was a live wire, sending sparks of pleasure through her veins. The tentacles inside her shifted, the suction cups massaging her in ways that made her want to weep. The creature had taken complete control, and she could feel it claiming her as its own.

The tentacle in her mouth began to pulse, and she felt a sudden surge of warmth in her belly. It was as if the potion was spreading through her, reaching every part of her being and binding her to the creature. She moaned around the intrusion, her hips bucking up to meet the relentless onslaught of the tentacle in her pussy. Her orgasm washed over her like a tidal wave, stealing her breath and making her body convulse in a symphony of pleasure. But even as she came, the tentacles didn't relent, continuing to fuck her with a vigor that was unyielding.

The creature's grip on her grew more possessive, the tentacles around her body tightening, the ones inside her stretching her even further. It was a feeling that was both terrifying and exhilarating, a dance on the razor's edge of pleasure and pain. She could feel her muscles clenching, trying to push the invaders out, but the potion had her body betraying her, her walls instead clamping down, holding them tight.

Y/N's eyes rolled back in her head as she felt the creature's life force begin to pulse in rhythm with her own heartbeat. The tentacles grew thicker, harder, filling her completely, as if they were becoming a part of her. She was no longer the witch in control of her domain; she was the prey caught in the embrace of a creature that was as ancient as the earth itself.

The creature's tentacles began to quiver and spasm, and she knew it was about to release its seed. The thought of being filled with the alien spawn of this creature sent a shiver of revulsion through her, but her body responded with a wanton lust that she couldn't control. She felt it building inside her, the pressure mounting until she thought she might burst.

With a final, guttural growl, the tentacle in her pussy spurted its cum deep inside her. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever experienced - hot, thick, and overwhelming. It filled her up, the sticky fluid leaking out around the edges and pooling beneath her. At the same time, the tentacle in her ass pumped its own seed into her, the dual invasions making her body convulse with the intensity of her orgasm. She squirted, the force of her climax so powerful it was as if she were peeing, her juices mixing with the creature's cum and dripping down her thighs.

The plant creature's tentacles tightened around her, ensuring not a single drop of its precious essence was lost. It was a possessive act, a declaration of ownership that sent a thrill through her even as she struggled to breathe around the tentacle in her throat. Her body was no longer her own; she was merely a vessel for its pleasure, a conduit for its life force. The creature's movements grew more deliberate, the tentacles inside her working together to milk every drop from her trembling form.

Y/N felt the potion's effects deepening, her thoughts becoming hazy, and her will to resist all but vanished. The creature's cum filled her, a warm, pulsating presence that seemed to resonate with her very soul. Her body responded instinctively, her muscles clenching around the tentacles, eager to keep them inside her. The plant's life force pumped into her, melding with her own until she couldn't tell where she ended and it began.

As the creature's climax reached its peak, she felt the tentacles inside her begin to withdraw, their suction cups reluctantly letting go of her sensitive flesh. The thick ropes of cum spurted out of her, painting the floor around her in a sticky mess. But before she could even begin to process what was happening, the plant's grip tightened once more. The tentacles holding her open slithered back in, coating her insides with the warm, viscous fluid, ensuring not a single drop was lost.

The creature's movements grew slower, more deliberate, as if savoring the feeling of her body around it. With a final, lingering kiss, the tentacle in her mouth slithered out, leaving her gasping for air. She coughed and spluttered, her throat raw and sore from the intrusion, but the taste of the potion remained, a heady cocktail of earth and magic. The tentacles around her neck and wrists loosened, allowing her to sit up, though she felt a strange reluctance to break the intimate connection.

As the plant's life force ebbed away, so too did the potion's control over her body. She felt the tentacles retreat, each one leaving her with a popping sensation that made her wince. The creature's form began to shrink, the tentacles withdrawing back into the soil with a wet squelch. The once vibrant leaves and vines grew limp, the glow in its veins fading to a dull pulse.

Y/N lay there, panting and drenched in sweat, cum, and dirt, her body feeling both violated and oddly satisfied. She watched with a mix of horror and fascination as the creature returned to its original state, the tentacles retreating into the soil until nothing remained but the withered plant she had sought to revive. The room was a mess of uprooted shelves and scattered potions, a testament to the creature's unbridled passion.

The bell above the door chimed, jolting her back to reality. She scrambled to her feet, her legs wobbly from the intense encounter. A customer had entered the shop, their eyes wide with shock as they took in the scene before them. It was a young woman, a regular named Clara, who often came in for love potions and the occasional herb to keep her garden thriving.

Y/N tried to compose herself, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson as she took in Clara's horrified expression. The room was indeed a wreck - potions spilled, tomes scattered, and the once quaint and orderly space was now a chaotic jungle of tangled vines and broken furniture. "C-Clara," she managed to stutter, her voice hoarse from her earlier cries of pleasure, "I can explain."

But Clara wasn't listening. She had spotted the withered plant, now devoid of its former vigor, lying in the center of the room. "What the fuck happened here?" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of shock and disbelief. She took a tentative step closer, her eyes scanning the scene with a blend of curiosity and revulsion.

The witch tried to speak to explain the unexplainable, but her words caught in her throat. What could she possibly say? That she had brought the plant to life with a potion and it had fucked her senseless? That the creature had claimed her body as its own, feeding off her very essence? The truth was too ludicrous to voice aloud. Instead, she settled for a weak, "It's... it's a spell gone wrong?"

[kifkay]

I love when magic has an effect on the body & soul of its caster. like!! you don’t get to be a reality-bending demi-god and walk away with no strings attached. there’s always a price.

Bloom’s dragon fire consumes her from the inside, leaving lightning-like tissues of scars along her limbs - be careful, rumbles the Great Dragon from within, don’t let your emotions consume you. Bloom wails from the pain and clutches whoever is in the vicinity - but cannot fully stop it. just prevent it or treat the aftermath.

Musa gets migraines. Stella becomes ill when she doesn’t get her daily dose of sunshine. Aisha’s senses get muddy sometimes, almost as if she’s submerged underwater. Nabu experiences uncontrollable tremors in his arms, when he creates too many of his phantoms. all of those are - yes, horrible to experience but manageable enough for the school (and the Magic community at large) to tell them to just suck it up and weather through.

once you get your enchantix though, you start developing… unique abilities. almost like, in achieving the final fairy form, you became one with your brand of magic.

Bloom starts producing smoke. Like - she snorts at something funny Riven or Sky say, and literal puffs of smoke emerge from her nose. It’s jarring at first (“Bloom Peters, when did you start smoking? do you know that it kills??”) but quickly becomes endearing once they realise it’s not life-threatening in any way (after speed-running through like fifteen Magix apothecaries). Among her other ‘oddities’: too hot to cuddle with (only Stella can stand the high temperature, since she has a resistance to heat), becomes strangely overprotective and a little possessive, her eyes sometimes become a startling orange hue as if she’s embodied by the great dragon himself (it’s just a party trick).

Stella becomes more ethereal. In certain lights, her skin looks translucent - like a mirage weaved with moonlight. Her hair glints in the sun, almost too bright to like at; her touch feels phantom-like. She becomes even more beautiful, but less - human, earth-bound, Stella-esque. A curse and a blessing, that one.

Musa’s hearing gets really fucking good. She has a steadily growing dossier of blackmail on every student in Alfea - simply because shut doors or longer distances are no longer obstacles for her. It’s annoying too, because she can’t exactly turn it off - and now she gets to hear all the things people say about her, behind her. but here’s a consolation - she can influence other creature’s emotions through the melodies she hums! like how in canon, she pacified the bird Roc and brought mirth to the arguing fairies.

Flora gets much sturdier. Her skin harder than bark; her body able to withstand thirst and hunger for much longer than the rest. It’s honestly so intimidating. Here’s this sweet young woman — known to cry for trampled flowers and cut weeds!! — absolutely bodying a sharp ass ice shard that Icy attacked her with. It just — crumbles upon colliding with Flora’s body. insane and frankly so so hot for others to see.

As per the negatives… I like the idea of Flora being able to connect to the memories of nature around her and literally absorb the pain/fear/anguish of whatever she witnessed.

Aisha and Bloom are similar, in a sense that both of them are vessels to primordial divinities of their universe — Bloom is the holder of the Dragon Flame, and Aisha is the child of the Infinite Ocean. therefore, both experience a more extreme transformation than their girl friends. like, Aisha’s dreams are infiltrated by visions of past and future; memories of those who were lost to the Ocean. she dreams of Politea, of Tritanus, of her mer cousins and ancestors, and even those who were not yet born. if Aisha was not so mentally wilful, she might’ve folded under the weight of those prophesies.

Aisha can also breathe under water and her body gets the musculature it needs to be on par with her mer cousins while swimming, because why the fuck not?

Tecna - I frankly have no ideas for and would love to hear suggestions!

[nat-20s]

I'm giving Donna Noble some slightly uncanny qualities as little a treat. Nothing that immediately marks her as anything other than completely human, mind you, but there is oddities here and there. Sometimes at night her eyes seem to reflect light in a way they shouldn't, and she seems to be able to see more color in the darkness. One time she stuck her head under water for a bath and when she came up, according to the clock it had been ten minutes without issue. She used to run cold just like her mum's side of the family, but now she neither shivers nor sweats when by all accounts she should. She swears she can hear those whistles that are meant for dogs, and they're bloody annoying. It's not enough that she suspects anything is different about her, at least not like that, but it's enough to be just the slightest bit off from the experiences of those around her.

[palesweetscherryblossom]

In the arms of a Snake

Warning: Possessive behavior, Shigaraki gets a bit murderous, mentioned child neglect, infertility, overall fluff

It was rare for children to be seen in the forest, especially in Shigaraki’s part. Humans didn’t stoop too low, at least that’s what Tomura wanted to think. He stared down to the hypnotized child in his arms, currently staring at him with red tinted eyes, replacing their e/c.

But Tomura couldn’t help but take this as a blessing. Many nights he and his mate had often lamented about their lack of hatchlings. Every egg laid always a dud, every mating season a cruel taunt to them.

Dabi had always looked so miserable whenever spotting broken egg shells in naga nests, curling up in the nest as he stared blankly. Shigaraki felt himself grow giddy with the prospect of Dabi getting to hold you, to experience the joys of parenthood. Teaching you to hunt, running around in the spring and summertime, snuggling up in the colder months.

The deal was only made sweeter when you cuddled up to his chest, trying to get warm. “Nn.” You murmured, hand reaching for the necklace Shigaraki wore. You fiddled around with the skeleton fingers and little quartzes, absolutely enamored with it. “Hmhmh, we’ll get you something like that soon. Then you can be just like papa.” Shigaraki chuckled. You shivered after a particularly cold wind swept over the forest, swaying the branches and rustling the bushes. “Cold..” You whined lowly, trying to get more warmth. Shigaraki shushed you gently, patting your head.

“We’ll bundle you up nice and snug when we get there.” Shigaraki assured as he spotted the telltale cave in the distance.

After many months of sleeping in trees, on rocks or in burrows, Shigaraki and Dabi had found their permanent home in a cozy little cave. It was ideal, next to a lovely little pond and fruit trees. Shigaraki slithered inside, greeted with the sight of his handsome mate.

Dabi was an oddity amongst naga, for his gnarly burns set him apart as unique. Not mention little “inconveniences” that wasn’t apart of naga behavior. He had to have his food cooked, had to be careful with sheddings and was sensitive to certain things.

Shigaraki loved him the same, he found his swift movements and dry attitude humorous. Not to mention kindred spirit of being mistreated by the ones who were supposed to care. The delicious scent of roasting meat filled Tomura’s senses as he entered into the home. Dabi stopped tending to the fire and directed his attention towards Tomura. A dry yet playful smile rested on his scarred face.

“Took you long enough, had me thinking you were caught or something.” He slithered on over to his mate, who in turn acknowledged him with gentle peck on his cheek.

“As if, firecracker. I’m almost hurt that you’d think so highly of those parasitic primates.” Shigaraki taunted back before smirking. “Did you eat yet?” He inquired, Dabi shook his head.

“Nah, takes awhile for this stupid boar to roast.” Dabi then caught the scent of something unfamiliar. It wasn’t rare for Tomura to come back reeking of something unfamiliar but this had a special tint. Sweet, delicate. Like baby powder and peppermint.

Then blue eyes wandered to the hazy child in Tomura’s embrace. “Tomura, where? How?” Dabi for once in his life, felt completely flabbergasted by something Tomura brought home. Tomura smirked pridefully almost, his tail gently wrapping around Dabi’s in an attempt for comfort.

“This is our hatchling. Poor little lamb was left out in the forest with no food or water. Oh, the poor baby was crying and screaming.” Tomura’s heart ached at remembering your sad little sobs. “I had to put them in a trance to relax them.” Dabi was hyper focused on you, his eyes expressing longing and sympathy. It was like he was staring at himself, lost and afraid. “C-can I hold em?” He asked shakily, gently holding your relaxed body as you let out a tiny confused mumble.

“It’s just papa Dabi, no need to be afraid of him, hatchling.” Tomura cooed sweetly. Dabi stared at you, slithering over to the nest.

It felt strange yet pleasant to feel your body on his chest, your soft flesh and breathing a far cry from the cold eggs he felt before. Tomura joined his mate, nuzzling his neck as Dabi cuddled you tenderly. “They’re never going back.” He hissed, Shigaraki nodded.

“We’ll keep them nice and secure in the nest. It’s where they belong now.”

Welcome home

@messedupcookiejar

[zhongrin]

with you...

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, childe, tighnari, wanderer

◇ tags ◇ fluff, slight angst in zhongli’s i’m sorry i couldn’t resist, childe’s is a little suggestive

◇ a/n ◇ i am so down bad for zhongli (but yall probably know this already huh)

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙����𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

…. zhongli knows he could dress in rags and you’d still call him handsome. you’ve called him a variety of names and titles - sweet and silly ones, sensual and sultry ones - and he adores them all, adopts them as part of his identity as the mortal being that is zhongli, and refers back to you with the utmost reverence. he knows he need not resent his former names nor his more brutish appearances, for you’ve seen them past their monstrosity and still sees something beautiful in all of them. you’ve shown him how you’ve embraced him in his entirety; his past and his present, and his future.

with you, he can’t wait to experience your life together.

(- yet he knows every journey has its end, and so he promises himself that he’ll appreciate you every step of the way)

…. al haitham knows he doesn’t need to sugarcoat his words. you already know that he’s straightforward and blunt with his remarks and intentions, yet still, you choose to be with him. it’s not that he can’t “read the room” or “be a little more attentive”; he just doesn’t think he’s fit for the job if praises and reassurances that can barely hold any water are what people want in those situations. he also knows that you understand the nature of his job without him having to spell it out for you; he likes that he can talk or grumble about all the darkest secrets of the akademiya along with all of its forbidden secrets, and you would store it in your memory in a drawer where only he has the key to unlocking them.

with you, he doesn’t need to hold back - be it his words, his secrets, or his love, he knows you’ll accept them all and treasure them gently within your arms.

…. childe knows he can trust you with ajax. the lonely, repressed, forced-to-grow-up-far-too-soon ajax. gone is the fearsome and bloodthirsty eleventh harbinger; every time he sees you, he feels like he’s a child all over again, seeing his favorite toy and snuggling into the comfiest blanket that smells like home. he knows you would indulge his every request, from a head pat to a full-on embrace that lasts for the whole day. from a bite of the cake you’re having to a whole ten-course meal. from a little peck to a make-out session that turns into something more… you continue to spoil him despite your nagging and little exasperated huffs. he thinks it’s very very cute and endearing. sometimes tartaglia thinks he doesn’t deserve you, but ajax has already forgotten a world without you and firmly refuses to let you go with that childish mentality of his.

with you, his haven, childe knows he could be in touch with his child self and be as selfish as he wants in reveling within your love, because it seems like you’ve already long since made your home in his heart and won’t be leaving anytime soon, much to his delight.

…. tighnari knows he can fully indulge in his baser instincts and you’ll let him. you might complain, but your words won’t have any bites on them and your body will support him to let him take as much as he needed. his nesting behaviors should be an oddity in normal humans’ eyes (he can’t help stealing your clothes because the smell of his mate comforts him and helps him sleep, okay, get your mind off the gutter), yet you tell him he’s adorable and ask him if you can join in. the little fangs in his mouth should be something people are wary of (they’re made for rip and tear upon intimidation, a tool made to fight against danger), yet you tap on them whenever he bares his teeth and tells him his ‘little fangies’ are cute. you’re such a weird lummox. and tighnari loves this weird lummox so, so much.

with you, he sees a mate and a partner for life, and while fennec foxes don’t normally enjoy cuddles, he supposes he can make an exception.

….. wanderer knows he can trust you to pull him back to where he needs to be whenever he’s lost. you’ve always been meddlesome and kinder than you should be with scaramouche, and even with his new identity you’re just as nosy, and he’s grateful for it. you know not to take him seriously when he’s just acting like he doesn’t want you around, but you know to put your foot down when he tries to push you away because he’s starting to doubt himself all over again. he knows he’s not the best lover out there - hell, he’s pretty convinced that he's the worst lover in all of teyvat. but you... you stick with him regardless. you pinch his cheeks and kiss his forehead and do all the things that somehow manage to make him blush. he might not be the best lover on teyvat, but he knows that you are. so he’ll keep trying his best, just for you.

with you, his captivating dancing doll, maybe the soldier doll has managed to form a heart before it could burn to ashes after all.

— with you, i know i am where i belong, and i know that i am safe and loved.

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @nachotrash

[earlgreylatte]

His Völunder

Qin Shi Huang

Some would consider it a bad habit, but you couldn’t really see any real harm in your behaviour. You’re just the type to take it easy, and if a sudden bout of sleepiness were to hit, then of course a little shut eye wouldn’t hurt.

And if that happened to mean you would find yourself dead asleep on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, then whatever Brunhilde didn’t know wouldn’t kill her.

With all that it mind, you were used to being roused from your sleep, either being shaken around like a rag doll, or even feeling a foot jab your ribs from some of your more vindictive sisters.

But having a finger delicately trace over the features of your countenance that rouses you from your sleep was a new experience. Despite that, you batt at the hand with a groan of sleepy annoyance, trying to return to your slumber despite the odd circumstances.

The masculine laughter that followed, however, certainly had you shooting up, nearly headbutting the source. The blindfolded man that was currently crouched above you didn’t seem to quite know what personal space was judging by how your noses were barely just brushing while he was just sporting a boyish grin

You leaned back on your hands, wondering why he was even so close if he couldn’t see.

And realizing you definitely weren’t anywhere near the north based on his clothing and the humidity in the air, you huffed. Brunhilde would definitely kill you.

“There are far better places to sleep then the middle of the forest, you know,” He speaks up, still not retreating back, “I can’t help but wonder about the unusual lady before me that would find dirt a restful spot.”

You barely let out a twitch at his teasing words, instead tilting your head at him, “And I can’t help but wonder about a man that perches himself above unusual ladies that need rest.”

He lets out another bark of laughter, seemingly the type to appreciate a bit of banter. He rises, standing tall and proud with posture that almost made you jealous. You’re about to follow his lead before you find yourself starting at his open hand. You look up at him with an unimpressed look and as if he can see you, his smile grows larger.

“Too prideful to accept a helping hand?” He ribs

With an exaggerated huff, you place your hand in his, barely registering a firm squeeze before your hoisted up in one swift movement, crashing into the stranger’s chest with a breathy squeak.

You feel the vibrations of laughter on your cheek that was smushed up against him, before pulling away, “You wouldn’t happen to know where we are, would you?”

You probably could be more inconspicuous, but judging from the man’s lack of reaction, he didn’t seem too invested in your oddities.

“A women with features like no other in these lands slumbering without any idea where she lies?”

Or maybe not.

"Ah, well,” You trail off blankly.

“You seem more like something out of a tale than a human, my mysterious friend…”

Wait, wait, isn’t that too spot on?

“Ah! Actually, I think I hear someone calling my name! While this has been a riveting conversation, I should get going—“ You shuffle backwards, getting ready to turn tail until you feel his hand yank you back by your wrist.

"Dear lady, could it be that you descended from the heavens?” He asks, leaning down as if he was making eye contact despite his gaze being covered.

Well, yes, you did. But he doesn’t need to know that.

You balk at him, “Are you coming onto me?”

“Coming…on?” He questions, his grip loosening enough for you to pull away and ascend into the sky above him.

“Well, as fun as this has been, I’ve got monsters to slay and mortals to guide, so…”

The man stares at you for a moment before laughing loudly, “You’re a funny one! If you ever fall from the skies again, you may rest wherever you please in my lands!”

“Your lands?”

“Of course! You’re in the presence of the emperor, after all.”

You only scoff before leaving.

Mortals and their claims of ownership.

You doubt you’ll run into this weirdo ever again.

*

You were innocently dozing off in your room. You were content. Sure, the fate of humanity was at stake and gods, demi or otherwise, were dropping like flies, but your bed was perfectly cozy.

But, of course, Brunhilde just had to ruin it. Slamming your door open, she entered without any regard or courtesy.

“You’ve rested long enough! It’s time to to ride this wave of victory into the next battle!” She declares, resting her hands on her hip.

You simply yawn in response, “My turn on the chopping block, I see.”

“You haven’t been paying attention to any of the bouts, have you?”

“Guilty.”

Your sister sighs in exasperation before tossing a tablet your way.

“The human you’re paired with has seemed to have…wandered off,” She explains, before trying to pull you out of bed. “We have no time to lose! Now, get up!”

Tuning out her demands, you can only stare at the image of a certain blindfolded freak on the screen.

You flop back in bed as Brunhilde screams in protest.

You should have guessed that someone as crazy as him would participate in an equally crazy tournament.

[frozenjokes]

The Reasonable Next Step (Cannibalism)

Cub did not understand. Never for a second did he think he was wrong, nor did he doubt himself now, but if he wasn’t wrong (which he wasn’t), then why did Mumbo say no?

It did not make sense. (and his feelings were a little bit hurt) It did not make sense.

Mumbo had always been a bit of an oddity, and Cub used to attribute this to the fact that he was just so.. normal? Mumbo was jumpy, yes, he’d always been on the edgier side, but other than that, he was just human, just doing his own thing, standing out only because of how painfully ordinary he was minus perhaps the height and the gaunt figure.

Cub wondered if Mumbo had looked more haggard lately, in the past few years maybe, or if that was just his mind playing tricks on him. Those eyebags, whew. Cub had truly never seen anyone get so little sleep.

But Mumbo was not normal. Mumbo was not even the slightest bit ordinary, however Cub had only started noticing in season eight.

Maybe that’s when Mumbo started losing his grip, Cub didn’t know, but two events over the course of those months stood out to him as particularly insane, those being the stealing of Grian’s soul and the sacrifice of Bdubs to ‘appease the moon,’ which was a perfectly on brand thing for Scar to do, but Mumbo? ‘Peace, love, and plants’ Mumbo?

That’s what had gotten Cub’s attention in the first place actually; Mumbo had always been famously uncomfortable around blood and gore, uninterested in murder on a good day, even as part of a game, but he had seemed particularly unwell then, not only because he was so damn skinny that a small gust of wind could’ve knocked him clean over, but the insistence on only eating certain foods, bordering on not eating at all; it had worried Cub, to be frank. He and Mumbo were never close, but he remembered stopping by once or twice to check in, and generally hanging around to make sure he was okay. Mumbo always insisted he was just fine. And then Cub heard he threw Grian into a meat grinder and was a tad more concerned.

Technically Mumbo had not been the one to put Grian into his killing machine, but he may as well have been, tricking Grian into signing a contract than leading him to his own gratuitously violent death- Now all of this Cub heard from Scar, so perhaps there was a bit of hyperbole going on, but Cub had checked out the machine, and even compared to Cub’s own violent history it looked.. intense.

Maybe not intense coming from some other hermits, but out of pocket from Mumbo.

Now, with the moon growing large and crashing into the server, it was safe to say everyone was a tiny bit off their rocker, but Mumbo didn’t sleep well on a normal day, so Cub wasn’t sure he believed the whole idea of the Boatem Mooners as they were called, making a pact not to sleep, which, inevitably, drove the whole lot of them off the deep end. But Mumbo lived like that normally; Cub couldn’t recall more than two times he’d actually seen Mumbo asleep over a period of years, and in his passive observation, it felt like something was off about Mumbo’s behavior in the Mooner cult. It felt.. like an excuse. And maybe that was just a hunch, it’s not like Cub had any real evidence, but participating in a ritual sacrifice seemed severely unlike Mumbo, even if he only hauled Bdubs up to the pyre in the first place and Scar was the one who set the flame.

Cub didn’t care of course. What Mumbo did with his time was his own business, and Cub certainly wasn’t judgemental but.. well, he was interested. It was like your reliable average joe experiences a short burst of pure unbridled mania, then goes back to normal the next day pretending none of it happened. Cub just had a feeling there was more there, more to him, and god if he didn’t want to know what it was.

He considered stalking to be a strong word. What he did was not stalking.

However, if Mumbo was around, or Cub caught a passing glance of him sneaking off by himself, he may have followed, never revealing his presence. And that- in the back half of season eight and the start of season nine. Cub had seen some things. He had certainly seen some things.

Now, Cub was no stranger to rituals. In general vex and their counterparts were ritualistic creatures, drawn to performance and sacrifice and dance. He was always drawn to violence, as was Scar, and they had shared more than a couple vile displays of lust and brutality. It was indulgence, it was a show, and in truth, the only reason the sacrifice of animals was not a more common occurrence is because Scar shied away from it, preferring to use their own flesh and blood. It did not bother Cub either way. If the treatment of animals was among his top concerns, he’d have quite a few issues with some of the other inhabitants of the server.

All of this preface to say that the things Cub witnessed Mumbo doing to animals was enough to make him think that pigs and chickens had orphaned him, stolen all his most precious possessions, burned down his childhood home, then ate all his children and cursed his bloodline, because seriously, what the hell?

Cub was not someone who was easily disturbed, but watching Mumbo set animals from various farms loose, chase and maim them for literal hours (sometimes whole nights) leave them with horrific injuries, then only when they couldn’t stand to run any longer, eat them alive- It was a deeply fascinating, deeply unnerving display, coupled by.. whatever the fuck Mumbo was. It sure as hell wasn’t human, something Cub was relieved to figure out quickly.

Mumbo was tall, but even then, he was too fast. There were moments when parts of him were too long, a leg or fingers, and sometimes too sharp- From a distance, Cub didn’t know how Mumbo was inflicting such brutal lacerations, and even with a spyglass, Cub couldn’t quite tell, but he had to be changing, his body had to be adapting to his physical needs. Mumbo was too strong as well; this was something Cub had witnessed in places other than remote locations thousands of blocks from spawn, but it was true! No one that skinny, bordering on emaciated, had enough muscle to sustain activities like this, much less break bones with a snap of a hand and restrain terrified animals twice his size.

All of this was inhuman, however, most of these things could also be explained away as tricks of the light, or misunderstandings of human anatomy. Unlikely, yes, but possible.

Cub really knew when he saw Mumbo eat for the first time.

And when he said the first time, he meant the first time; even when Mumbo had made eating potatoes his whole identity, Cub had never actually seen him eat anything. When he asked Scar before this whole ordeal, the thought had never occurred to Scar before, but when he asked Grian, he had only told Cub that Mumbo was private with his meals, too anxious to eat in front of others. Honestly, Cub had thought Mumbo had some kind of eating disorder. Given the state of him, it wasn’t a poor assumption, and Cub got the sense Grian felt similarly, though he wouldn’t give any more information other than ‘Mumbo is anxious,’ stubbornly close-lipped. Cub got the sense Grian knew a little more than he was letting on, and given how nosy he was, Cub found himself wondering if Grian had seen Mumbo eat before, really eat.

After pressing, majorly pissing Grian off in the process, Cub was a little more sure, though, Grian getting pissed off could just as easily be a symptom of Cub being an asshole and nothing more. Sometimes Cub didn’t know when to stop, but Scar had a pretty good system of letting him know. (“Cub, you’re being an asshole.” to which he would respond “Oh, okay.” For some reason people avoided telling Cub to shut the fuck up even when they really wanted to, but it would make his life a lot easier if they did.)

But yes, it was quite clear that Mumbo was not human when the hunt was over and he finally started to eat.

Mumbo didn’t.. Cub wasn’t exactly sure if he chewed, rather than just.. swallowing. A lot. Too much at a time. Mumbo’s body seemed to accommodate him more than a human body ever should- he had teeth, Cub knew he had teeth, but it seemed instead he preferred to eat as much as he could whole.

Snakes could unhinge their jaws, striking, then positioning their prey so they could eat it head first, killing it faster, reducing the chance they may get scratched or bit.

Mumbo did not do this. Perhaps he did unhinge his jaw, but a human mouth, even broken in every sense of the word, could not possible take as much as Mumbo did at once, his body distorting and bubbling in ways that couldn’t be anything less than painful, bones and muscles rearranging, skin stretching, it was horrible, but Mumbo didn’t even take his prey head first.

It made no sense. Why would he start at the back, where he could be kicked, scratched, where it was easier for whatever he was consuming to bend over and bite him, hurt him. Is that why he tired his prey out so completely? Waited until they were completely exhausted? But even then, they still fought. Nothing being eaten alive like this could simply let it happen, the will to live was too strong, regardless of the inevitable hopelessness.

Cub wondered if Mumbo wanted to be hurt. If Mumbo thought he should be hurt by kicking feet and flailing jaws, larger animals struggling so fiercely that they would snap his entire face out of shape, a sight so particularly horrific, Cub found himself flinching, though he never looked away. Mumbo seemed like the type of person that wanted to punish himself, not that Cub knew him particularly well, but he was so weird, so oddly puritan when it came to standards set for himself, it made sense.

Or maybe he just wanted them to struggle. He wanted them to live longer, draw out suffering, just as he’d been doing for hours prior. Mumbo never flinched, even when he’d been bit or scratched particularly badly. Cub never saw blood or injury. And he was looking for it. He was watching closely. That first night, he slept just as little as Mumbo did, though both of them seemed not to need it.

Cub didn’t think he’d sleep ever again. He had to know more.

But Cub was a busy man, he had his own projects to work on, and he didn’t make a habit of following Mumbo around, but he did keep tabs. He was curious, but that curiosity started shifting to concern, especially after the switch from season eight to season nine.

Mumbo was visibly deteriorating, those lonely acts of violence feeling a lot more like desperation than real cruelty. Maybe it had always been desperate. Or maybe Cub was mistaken. He was not the best at reading other people.

But you didn’t have to be good at reading people to know that Mumbo was losing his grip. Mumbo was jumpy on a good day, but after the first weeks of season nine, he didn’t react to anything at all. He hardly even looked up when Grian approached him, trying his best to cheer Mumbo up, which Cub knew because Grian told Scar, and Scar could never help himself but tell Cub, just as Cub could never help but keep anything from Scar.

Scar knew about Mumbo the morning after Cub witnessed the hunt on the first night, Cub not even sleeping before he shook Scar awake at 7:00 AM, relaying everything he’d seen. Bafflingly, Scar could not have given less of a fuck.

“I knew something was wrong with him,” he’d said, mildly amused, and then closed his eyes, settling down to go back to sleep. Cub did not understand. It just did not make any sense that Scar did not care because this was one of the wildest things Cub had ever witnessed. He had so many questions! How could Scar not have any questions? Why did Mumbo keep this a secret? What was the point of drawing out his hunts? What was Mumbo? He had teeth, why didn’t he use them?

“Cub.” Scar said stiffly, eyelids fighting against Cub’s claws as he tried to pry them back open and make Scar listen, “You’re being an asshole.”

Scar still had no interest in answering any of the questions that kept Cub awake at night, but he did humor Cub when he theorized for hours, trailing Scar while he worked on his base, landscaping, was stuck sick in bed- Cub was more anxious when Scar was sick, worried he was boring him with chatter he knew Scar cared little about, but Scar insisted otherwise, engaging far more than he ever did when he had something else to do. Alien. Alien. Mumbo’s an alien. Alien. He’s an alien. He’s from the void. He’s an alien. Scar’s theories were not often rooted in sense, but it was fun to listen to him regardless.

But Scar cared in season nine. He cared because anyone close to Mumbo could see how poorly he was doing, and Scar would do anything to ease that pain. Cub would have approached Mumbo himself, asked about his excursions directly, but Scar had insisted that was the wrong way to go about it, not when Mumbo was so frail and already so depressed. Mumbo would accept help easier from someone closer to him, and Scar knew how to be subtle.

Scar came back to their shared tree home later that day wearing a grimace and a hand stuck permanently running through his hair.

“It, uh.. I may not have handled that as well as I could have. He may be upset. I dunno.. I didn’t think it was that bad, but Grian really chewed me out when it was just the two of us.”

“What happened? What did you say?” Cub’s tone may have been too harsh, a bad habit he struggled to shake when he was so invested. “I’m sorry-“ he snuck the words through when Scar winced, speaking before he could, “I don’t think you’ve done anything, I just want to know what happened.”

“I know,” Scar said, and Cub knew he did, no one knew him as wholly as Scar did, but Cub knew him in the same way, and knew he was sensitive after plans turned sour. Regardless, Scar continued, “So I meet up with Mumbo and Grian, right? We were just hanging out, talking about blueprints, nothing too crazy, but I wanted us all to get together anyway, since Mumbo’s been so down. He’s always a little more relaxed when Grian’s around, I don’t know what it is about those two, they’re like each other’s emotional support cats.”

“That’s true,” Cub nodded, trying to engage but antsy in the fluff of Scar’s story.

“So I bring us all together, you know how it is, and I suggest we have a little party, the three of us! None of us really have any birthdays coming up, but in my mind we can’t really afford to wait, so I suggested we do one now! Grian was teasing me, saying something like ‘Is it really a party if there’s only three of us?’ But I think so, and I said I think we could all use a bit of a pick me up, and Mumbo agreed with me, he said he thought it was a good idea! So I went on, I said we needed to have a themed party, because unthemed parties are no good, just as joyless as an unthemed amusement park, not awful, better than nothing maybe, but come on! You have to have a theme!”

“You have to have a theme,” Cub agreed, solemnly serious.

“So I told them it should be cannibalism themed!” Scar threw up his arms grandly, just like he’d probably done for Mumbo and Grian, but here the gesture was more frustrated, “And I didn’t want to get shut down right away, so I just kept talking about the details; maybe we could hire another hermit to be our lamb, y’know? Or we could just take turns with each other, or even just drain some blood, y’know, throw it around- and this, I still think this is genius- we could put blood in water guns and shoot each other with it! Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

“Gruesome,” Cub said, not disagreeing, but more amused than anything.

“Maybe a little bit,” Scar snickered, good natured, but he straightened, looking awkward, “But uh.. Mumbo did not like that idea. I could see him not liking it, so I kind of panicked y’know? Anyone would! So I just kept talking, hoping I could convince him before Grian bit my head off, but Grian was trying really hard to do that, and I just kept interrupting him, kept talking, and I know Mumbo isn’t squeamish, he can’t be given everything you’ve told me, but you would have thought it, and in fairness, I may have gone a little too far..” Scar slowed down, shrinking in on himself in his guilt, “I just want him to feel better. He was so- so distressed. I just want him to feel better. He- he fell when he was trying to get away from me. I wasn’t keeping him anywhere, but he was just so upset he fell and.. I don’t know. He’s just so frail. I wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get up again.” Scar rubbed the back of his neck. “He did. I mean, of course he did. He didn’t even have any trouble. He didn’t stumble. He just looks that way.”

Cub nodded slowly, sympathetic. A small silence lingered as Cub thought, opening his eyes when he was done. “I think a cannibalism party is a great idea. We should gather up a bunch of hermits and airdrop the lot of us in the woods with Ren on the full moon. He wins if he kills all of us by the morning.” Cub paused, “Well, maybe that’s not really a cannibalism party. Tangential cannibalism party.”

Scar snorted, mood ever so slightly lifting, “I think that’s fantastic. Better than my idea.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Scar shrugged, “I think your mind is beautiful.”

Cub wasn’t sure what to do with that, quietly flustered, but he must have made some kind of face because Scar laughed, wrapping Cub in a tight hug that made him squeak, shaking him in the same way a dog might shake a chew toy, though less violent given they were sitting down, just an expression of Scar’s restless energy. Cub was no good at comfort, they both knew this about him, but somehow Scar managed to find it anyway, wrestling it out of him when Cub couldn’t dig it up himself.

He did not think about Mumbo for a little while, resting instead with Scar, listening to him mumble rambled nonsense for the next thirty minutes until he fell asleep.

Cub did not interact much with Mumbo in the following weeks, not wanting to push when he was clearly so sensitive (and the two of them weren’t much more than strangers), but from what he heard from Scar, things weren’t getting any better. Grian was doing his damned best effort to cheer Mumbo up in his own way, Mumbo creating a vault for Grian to ‘break in to,’ and Cub heard from Scar that Mumbo sat out there for hours watching Grian (literally) bash his head against a wall, so at least Mumbo wasn’t alone.

And then Mumbo announced he was leaving. That he didn’t know for how long, or even where he was going, but that he just needed a break, he needed to go. Burnt out, was the reason he gave. He was burnt out. Anyone with eyes could see through the lie, and Cub wondered how many hermits were noticing for the first time just how bad of shape Mumbo was in. But no one said anything. No one stopped him. And if anyone had more in depth concerns, they weren’t brought up to the group as a whole, kept between whispers and close friends.

But Mumbo said he would be back. The words left him grimly, almost as if against his will, but he was firm, certain. A tone that said his return would not be a good thing, but it was inevitable, and he was resigned to the knowledge of that future.

So easily it could have been mistaken for apathy. For sadness that he was leaving behind friends, that it would be awhile before he saw everyone again. But Cub saw through. He wondered if Scar did too, Grian, maybe Iskall.

Cub thought Mumbo might have looked at him then, seconds before his departure. Their eyes met, and for a long moment Cub was sure Mumbo saw something in his; knowledge, intent. And then Mumbo looked away, and the moment passed. And then Mumbo was gone.

“You look like you’re seconds away from killing someone, you okay?” Tango elbowed him, and the gesture was playful, but all the same there was that underlying concern, the kind that told Cub plainly that Tango was telling the truth.

Whoops.

It was possible Mumbo was staring at him because Cub looked like he wanted him dead.

“I’m alright,” Cub shrugged, and he was, “Just sad to see him go. Don’t like losing anyone, you know how it is.”

“Yeah,” Tango mused, shaking Cub’s shoulder in a gentle gesture of encouragement, “But he’ll be back. Honestly, I bet he won’t be more than a month, he just needs some space to get those creative juices back in action. Can’t imagine him functioning without Grian at his hip for much longer than that,” Tango laughed, and Cub joined him, though the chuckle was somewhat joyless.

Mumbo was gone for a hell of a lot longer than one month. Nine months actually, he was gone, to the point where most hermits were pretty worried, some wondering if he was really returning at all (thoughts never expressed when Grian was around).

But Mumbo did come back. And when he did, he looked great. Truly great, Cub couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Mumbo looking so genuinely healthy and happy; still skinny as a stick, but more filled out, less gaunt. He looked strong, and even his eye bags had lightened a little, though whatever he’d been doing, it clearly hadn’t fixed his insomnia; that being an observation Scar said to him in jest.

But it was good. It was good.

Honestly, Cub had expected his mild obsession with Mumbo to flare up again the second he stepped foot back on the server, but almost the opposite happened, where everything Cub had previously felt; the curiosity, the intrigue.. it all simmered down. Mumbo was healthy, he was high energy, and Cub found that he didn’t care all that much what was going on with him so long as he stayed that way. He’d had nine months to burn himself out on theorizing anyway, he’d moved on to other interests.

But Mumbo did not stay healthy.

Cub was too busy on the back end of season nine to notice, not keeping tabs on Mumbo hardly at all by then, but at the start of season ten, when everyone was together, Cub saw it right away.

The difference between the Mumbo returning home from his break and the Mumbo at the start of season ten was stark, at least to Cub, since no one else seemed to notice, or at least didn’t say so. It wasn’t like Mumbo was deteriorating as severely as he had been before traveling, but Cub was sure he had lost weight, and something was just wrong; maybe he was a little too neurotic, a little too snappy. It was almost nothing! Hardly noticeable, honestly, to the point Cub thought he might be going crazy, but really. What would happen if the problem escalated to the point of season nine, Mumbo so miserable that just the mere suggestion of violence was enough to do him in completely. Whatever Mumbo was doing now, it wasn’t sustainable!

Cub waited a couple months, partially to see what would happen, but admittedly, he wasn’t too thrilled about the idea of confronting him directly. He didn’t want to tell Scar this time, he wanted to do this himself, but working up the nerve was a beast within itself.

But it was fine. It was going to be fine, because Mumbo had literally no reason to say no. If Mumbo needed to eat, however convoluted the way he had to do it, he should just do it, and Cub became so convinced of this that he was certain Mumbo would see it too. So he approached him, not accusatory of course, not even questioning Mumbo’s thinly veiled humanity, but simply giving him an out. Scar would be more than thrilled to have Mumbo drag him around by his innards or whatever the fuck Mumbo would come up with. He would not say no.

(He said no.)

This was going to be a tough case. Cub really hadn’t anticipated this going wrong in any way, because put simply, it made no sense for Mumbo to refuse, but regardless, this was fine because Cub was not going to give up. He would not let this get as bad as it had before. He’d go for a more subtle approach instead, and not the Scar kind of subtle either, real subtle, not even mention eating people at all. Cub was going to make this work.

He was going to seduce Mumbo.

[artofmyraid]

(Ha,ha edited the post and tags cause I accidently posted it early and there is no art yet!, it's not finished!)

One of the perks of being an artist, is that when ideas like this Ghost!siffrin au eat at your brain you can draw them!

Oh, and there are two of them now, one possessing their body and one who is just a ghost. (I had too many ideas for both, and i couldn't pick just one to focus on, lol.)

Under this read more, I shall give a huge info-dump on my two new blorbos~

So! Some facts about ghost siffrin who has possessed their dead human body. I dont have names to differentiate ghost siffrin and possessing their body siffrin, so this one will be possessed!siffrin for now, name pending??? this one is definitely aware he isn't human. They don't quite know their a ghost that died and possed their dead body, just that they definitely aren't a human! Their very desperate to pretend they are still human, so their more obsessed with appearing "normal." They get verrrry anxious when people point out their oddities, especially ones they can't fix (like how they just dont age, despite never using body craft, how young they look despite claiming to be an adult, and I dont just mean that their short, (in which their almost bonnies height) but that they look like a child, no older than a teenager. )

Fun fact, possessed!siffrin can barely taste food! Darn those dead taste buds! For that reason they tend to lean very heavily towards foods with a lot of taste, like more spice than the human body should be able to withstand, I think they'd even like certain foods near charred just so they can taste them.

Then the other one, that's ghost siffrin, and he has a VERY different experience than possessed!siffrin , for he doesn't know he is a ghost or inhuman.

So they mostly go through pre-canon normally, where everyone do notice some...oddities. like if you look too close at siffrins skin they seem almost transparent? Or how they almost seem to faintly glow at night... not to mention the weird dripping sounds... Isn't siffrin terrified of water?

Anyway, when the time loops start, that's where things get REALLY interesting. Cause Ghost siffrin has to deal with both the time loops and confronting the fact that their a ghost that died! All those weird oddities from before become harder to ignore, and the more siffrin notices them the more their human disguise falls apart.

In my opinion, the form of a ghost is all about their perception of themselves. If siffrin thinks he is human their human. But if siffrin thinks too much about being a ghost... things get weird.

...Like during one loops snack time, thinking too hard about being a ghost, they start to wonder where the food they've been eating goes and this time... the food falls right through them instead of being consumed.

Or during bad touch... well, they might just phase right through :)

Wow! This was long. If you read all this, you are a saint.

These two have eaten away at me, I love both changing the time loop events and changing pre-canon! There are so many more ideas that I haven't touched yet, I have so much for both of them. they're so different despite being based on the same concept

(The art will be finished soon, lol, my bad)

[intersexbookclub]

Discussion summary: Left Hand of Darkness

Published in 1969, The Left Hand of Darkness is a classic in science fiction that explores issues of sex/gender in an alien-yet-human society where the aliens are just like us except in how they reproduce. These aliens, the Gethenians, can reproduce as either male or female. They spend most of their lives sexually undifferentiated. Once a month, they go into heat (“kemmer”) and their sexual organs activate as either male or female (it’s essentially random).

Here's a summary of the discussions we had on 2023-08-25 and 2023-09-01 about the book:

HIGH LEVEL REACTONS

Michelle (@scifimagpie): even though it was written by a cis straight perisex woman there is a queerness to the writing that feels true and that she nailed. There is a queerness to the soul of this book that still holds up, that's true and good, and I cannot but love and respect that.

Elizabeth (@ipso-faculty): this book is such a commentary on 1960s misogyny. Genly is a raging misogynist. It takes a whole prison break and crossing the arctic for Genly to realize a woman or androgyne can be competent 👀

Dimitri: [Having read just the first half of the book] I wonder if it keeps happening, if Genly keeps going "woaaaah" [to the Gethenians’ androgyny] or if he ever acclimates. It's been half the novel my guy

vic: yeah a book where a guy is destroyed by seeing a breast makes me want queer theory

vic: [it also] makes me feel good to see how much has changed [since the 1960s]

THE INTERSEX STUFF

A thing we appreciated about the book was how being intersex is contextual. The main character of the book, Genly Ai, is a human from a planet like Earth, who visits Gethen to open trade and diplomatic relations.

On his home planet, and to Earth sensibilities, Genly is perisex - he is able to reproduce at any time of the month and is consistently male.

But on Gethen, Genly becomes intersex. On Gethen, the norm is that you only manifest (and can reproduce as) a given sex during the monthly kemmer (heat/oestrus) period. 

The Gethenians understand Genly as living in “permanent kemmer”, which is described as a common (intersex) condition, and these people are hyper-sexualized and referred to as Perverts.

At this point it’s worth noting that depiction is not the same as endorsement. Michelle pointed out the book is very empathetic to those in permanent kemmer. LeGuin does not appear to be endorsing the social stigma faced by these people, merely depicting it, and putting a mirror to how our own society treats intersex people.

Throughout the book, Genly is treated as an oddity by the Gethenians. He is hyper sexualized. He undergoes a genital inspection to prove he is who he says he is. 

When Genly is sent to a prison camp and forcibly given HRT, he does not respond “normally” to the hormones, the effects are way worse for him, and the prison camp staff don’t care, and keep administering them even if it’ll kill him. 

Two of us have had the experience of having hyperandrogenism and being forced onto birth control as teenager, and relating to the sluggishness of the drugs that Genly experienced, as well as the sense that gender/sex conformity was more important to authority figures (parents, doctors) than actual health and well-being.

Another scene we discussed the one where Genly is in a prison van en route to the gulag, and a Gethenian enters kemmer and wants to mate with him and he declines. He is given multiple opportunities over the course of the book to try having sex with a Gethenian, and declines every time, and we wondered if he avoided it out of trauma of being hyper-sexualized & hyper-medicalized & having had his genitals inspected.

We discussed the way he described his genital inspection through a trauma lens, and how it interacts with toxic masculinity - in vic’s terms, Genly being "I am a manly man and I have don't trauma"

Those of us who read the short story, Coming of Age in Karhide, noted that once the world was narrated from a Gethenian POV, the people in permanent kemmer were treated far more neutrally, which gave us the impression that Genly as an unreliable narrator was injecting some intersexism along with his misogyny

WHY IT MATTERS TO READ THIS BOOK THROUGH AN INTERSEX LENS

Elizabeth: I’ve encountered critiques of this book from perisex trans folks because to them the book is committing biological essentialism, and dismissing the book as a result. I think they’re missing that this book is as much about (inter)sex as it is about gender. I think they’re too quick to dismiss the book as being outdated or having backwards ideas because they’re not appreciating the intersex themes. 

Elizabeth: The intersex themes aren’t exactly subtle, so it kind of stings that I haven’t seen any intersex analyses of this book, but there are dozens (hundreds?) of perisex trans analyses that all miss the huge intersex elephants in the room.

Also Elizabeth: I’ve seen this book show up in lists of intersex books/characters made by perisex people, and I’ve seen Estraven listed as intersex character, and it gets me upset because Estraven isn’t intersex! Estraven is perisex in the society in which he lives. Genly is the intersex character in this story and people who misunderstand intersex as being able to reproduce as male & female (or having quirky genitals smh) are completely missing that being intersex is socially constructed and based on what is considered typical for a given species.

WHAT THE BOOK DOESN’T HANDLE WELL

The body descriptions. As Dmitri put it: “ Like "his butt jiggled and it reminded  me of women" ew. It was intentional but I had to put the book down. It reminded me of transvestigators and how they take pictures of people in public.” 🤮

Not pushing Genly to reflect on how weird he is about other people’s bodies. We all had issues with how Genly is constantly scrutinizing the bodies of other humans to assess their gender(s) and it’s pretty gross.

vic asked: “how much of this is her reproducing violence without her knowing it? A thing I didn't like was how he always judging and analyzing people's bodies and realizing others treat him that way. And I wish there was more of his discomfort about this, that it made him feel icky.”

Dimitri added: “I really wanted him to have a moment of this too, for him to realize how much it sucks to be treated this way. As a trans person it's so uncomfortable. What are you doing going around doing this to people?”

Using male pronouns as default/ungendered pronouns. Élaina asked why Genly thinks a male pronoun is more appropriate for a transcendent God and pointed out there’s a lot to unpack there.

OTHER POSITIVES ABOUT THE BOOK

Genly’s journey towards respecting women, that he still had a ways to go by the end of the book. vic pointed out how “LeGuin was straight, and she loves men, and is kinda giving them the side-eye [in this book]. Her writing about how Genly is childish makes me really happy. It’s kind of hilarious to watch him bang his head against the wall because he’s so rigid.” 

To which Dmitri added: “I agree with the bit on forgiving men for stuff. I don't know how she [LeGuin] does it but she really lays it all out. She gives you a platter of how men are bad at things, how they make mistakes that are pretty specific to them. She has prepared a buffet of it.”

Autistic Estraven! As Michelle put it: “autistic queer feels about Estraven speaking literally and plainly and Genly not getting it”

The truck chapter. Hits like a pile of bricks. We talked about it as a metaphor for the current pandemic.

The Genly x Estraven slowburn queerplatonic relationship

The conlang! Less is more in how it gets used

MIXED REACTIONS

The Foretelling. For some it felt unnecessary and a bit fetishy. For others it was fun paranormal times.

Pacing. Some liked how the book really forces you to really contemplate as you go. Others struggled with a pace that feels very slow to 2023 readers.

WORKS WE COMPARED THE BOOK TO

Star Trek (the original series) - we wondered if LHOD and Genly Ai were progressive by 1960s standards, and TOS came up as a comparison point. We were all of the impression that TOS was progressive for its time but all of us find it pretty misogynist by our standards. The interest in extra-sensory perception (ESP) is something that was a staple of TOS that feels very strange to contemporary viewers and also cropped up in LHOD

Ancillary Justice - for being a book where characters’ genders are all ambiguous but the POV character is actually normal about how they describe other characters’ bodies.

The Deep - for being another book in a situation where being able to reproduce as male and female is the norm. The Deep was written by an actually intersex author, and doesn’t have the cisperisex gaze of scrutinizing every body for sex. But oddly LHOD actually winds up feeling more like a book about intersex people, because it features a character who is the odd one out in a gonosynic society. In contrast, nobody is intersex in the Deep - everybody matches the norms for their species, which makes the intersex themes in the work much more subtle.

Overall, as vic put it, “there's something to be said about an honest depiction that's not great, especially when there's no alternatives”. For a long time there weren’t many other games in town when it came to this sort of book, and even though some things now feel dated, it’s still a valuable read. We’d love to see more intersex reviews & analyses of the book!

[hyper-pixels]

Analog Horror List

Analog horror is uniquely known for its low quality and low visual styles. Or VHS style. They can widely range to a found footage or a visual guide style formatting.

Here are some noted ones:

These videos can contain disturbing content, as well as content that can induce a epileptic seizure if you choose to watch any of them.

2h32: A series of videos that are all two minutes and thirty-two seconds long.

Backrooms - The Otherside: A found footage of the back rooms.

Basswood County: Humanoid creatures that kill humans.

Cave Crawler: A video game (no commentary) about a special remote controlled bot meant to look for missing people (or bodies) in caves.

Chezzkids Archives: An archive of games from a website called Chezzkids. The developer went missing and her photos are showing up in the game. May need to have an episode explain it (this one by Minaxa did it well) as there are clues outside of the videos as well.

Cloud Observation: A short observation video on a cloud that seems to be growing limbs.

Escape the Backrooms: A combination of found footages and commercials, it details the backroom and people trying to escape from it.

Eventide - Anomaly Infestation: A news report of anomalies.

Fear Virus: A quick guide on how to protect yourself from a new, highly infectious virus that causes mutations in humans to become something they fear.

Floaters: A video and short guide. It details how humans are suddenly floating into the air.

Gemini Home Entertainment: A series of VHS styled video tapes. Neptune has mutated and is now infecting Earth with strange things called "woodcrawlers" and other mysterious happenings.

Green Mountain Broadcast Center: A archival for tapes. Only one on this channel labled "Live Traffic" which documents a strange storm.

Greylock: One of my favorites so far. About the government experimenting with tulpa and possibly uncovering an ancient god.

Happy Meat Farms: Animal testing that causes severe deformities.

Hi I'm Mary Mary: A woman wakes up in a house with no exits. She then has to face her greatest fears.

Identity Test: A test on whether or not you can tell the difference between normal faces, and distorted ones.

Itch File: A diver touches a random creature that ejects a pus like substance on him with a virus. Severe trypophobia warning.

Koala Superdeep Borehole Incident: The deepest man-made hole has a bit of an unnerving find.

Local 58 Season One: A news station trying to report on the news, when a broadcast alert stating to not look at the moon is reported. Season two

Harmony and Horror: A VHS style of film. as you watch, you discover the oddities and mysteries of the toys tore.

Marble Hornets: You know what this is.

Mister Manticore: Asks you to memorize a picture before asking you to find the differences. Has quick fleshing images.

Midwest Angelica: A piece of an alien breaks away and onto Earth as it passes the exosphere. It quickly folds into horror beyond comprehension.

Monument Mythos Season One: In an alternate world, where the statues seem to be more than just simple monuments. Season Two Season Three

Omega Mart Ad Compilation: Adds that are attempting to be targeted towards humans. More silly and deranged than scary.

Raining Fire (EAS Snario): A EAS scenario of a mentor shower suddenly hailing Earth on Christmas Eve. Leading to event after event.

Surreal Broadcast: A news station with things happening in the background that are related to a cult. Season Two Season Three

Searching for the Five: Five men suddenly disappeared, only leaving behind a few clues.

Sinkhole: A very hungry sinkhole.

Stone Cold Series: Strange eyes have suddenly started to show up in the night.

The Anglers Trap: A guide on what to do when you encounter a tree called the anglers trap. Which lures in humans like an angler fish.

The Backrooms: Where it all started, I believe. The Backrooms are limital spaces.

The Children Under the House: A therapist tries to find out why a young girl has suddenly stopped talking. Her imaginary friends of course, know why.

The Mandela Catalogue: Hostile creatures called alternates (alters for short) that mimic humans, but don't do it quite right. It mixed Christianity and horror together.

The Oldest View: A man finds a random stairwell in a tree that leads miles down. It turns out it's an old mall. Made by the same man who created the Backrooms.

The Scrimblo Catalogue: A joke analog horror based off of a twitter meme. Part Two

The Smile Tapes: A new fungai releases spores that infect humans that causes the muscle in the faces to distort into a smile and causes hysteria.

The Swarm: Aggressive, hungry mosquitos created by a science project gone wrong.

The Quentin Sanders Tapes: A man named Quentin sanders goes to Foxwood university only to discover a eldritch monster.

The Walten Files: Possessed animatronics, one of the founder's family goes missing while the other conspired against them. And not to forget the possessed animatronics.

They Lie Above: Follows the story of a son of a missing farmer who was abducted by aliens, and Neil Armstrong. Who's memories were erased after encountering a alien space craft.

VibingLeaf: Three videos that have a early youtube "lost videos" esque style.

Vita Carnis: A guide on strange fauna and flora seemingly made entirely, out of meat.

White Door Opened: Set in Poland, monsters and strange red mist begins to spread. Of course it starts with humans messing with things they shouldn't mess with.

Winter of 83: Snowmen come to life, and they aren't happy.

-Did I miss any? Let me know! I'll try to keep this updated as I deeper and deeper, but I can't catch everything.

[mymoodwriting]

Request for Anon (fallen angel!Jeno) 2.6k, experiments, human experiments, imprisonment, assault, physical assault, trespassing, amnesia, identity crisis, weapons, guns, escape attempt, supernatural creatures, angels, fallen angels, wings, teleportation, runaways (@starillusion13)

“We need to get out of here…”

Jeno still remembered that strange day. After training he returned to his room, needing to wind down and recover. This was the only place where he wasn’t monitored, but he still kept his guard up. As he was going about his nightly routine the door suddenly opened. A young woman, rather beautiful, stood in the doorway, out of breath but a unique smile on her face. As she regained her composure she spoke, clearly with joy.

“Found you. Now, we need to get out of here, I’ll explain-”

Sirens suddenly went off, confusing the woman. Although the only thing Jeno worried about was himself. He quickly tidied up his room and stood at attention, knowing guards would be around shortly.

“Jeno, what are you doing? We have to-”

Hearing his name from a stranger caused confusion, but he didn’t dwell on it too long before security guards came and restrained the woman. There seemed to be a bit of an altercation, and then Jeno saw something impossible. Pure white wings could be seen outside his door. He took a half-step forward before gunshots were heard. He quickly returned to his previous position. A moment later a guard checked on him and then shut the door. The sirens stopped and things seemed to quiet down. As if nothing happened.

For the next few days Jeno was questioned about the incident, but nothing came of it. In fact nothing changed, the interrogations ceased and things returned to normal. Jeno did not dwell on the incident either, maintaining his focus on what was important. He was one of the best here, and if he were to falter in anyway, there would be consequences. That’s the last thing he wanted, and yet sometimes his mind would drift. He shouldn’t care, but he had questions. He wanted to know who this woman was, how she found him, or got into the facility, how she knew his name. The answers seemed to be just out of reach in the back of his mind, yet he had to ignore this curious itch. It was more important to hone his skills and get better.

As much as Jeno wanted to move in, every night when he was back in his room he couldn’t help but be haunted by those memories. The slightest noise drew his attention to the door, a part of him wanting to see her again. He should let it go, he wanted to, but then things started to bleed into his dreams. Not just visions of the woman from before, but something else. Every morning he’d wake with a lingering feeling that something was wrong. This feeling went beyond his curiosity, something else was happening to him. He tried not to worry about it, fearing that his oddities would draw unwanted attention, but someone else did notice him.

One night his door creaked open again, and he found himself frozen in place. He waited, thinking she’d show up again, but nothing happened. For a moment he thought this was all a dream, but then he began to hear things out in the hall. He carefully stepped out, seeing another boy looking around, just as confused as he was. Despite his better judgment Jeno stepped out of his room. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do next, yet he started walking, the other following him. It wasn’t long before he was met with a few other faces, everyone rather confused but they kept going until the came to another room. A boy was waiting for them.

“I’m glad you came.”

“What is going on?”

“I think we all know, at least on some level. We should get out of here.”

“Are you insane?”

“Yeah, but so are you if you’re here. I’ve noticed that all of you are different… and you stopped taking those pills.”

“So? Even if we do get out of here, what would we do?”

“We can figure that out later, but we have to go now.”

All the boys shared a look. Things were strange, but they had been changing for them. If they didn’t leave now, they might not ever leave at all. As they were contemplating they suddenly heard approaching footsteps, quick to barricade the door and preventing anyone from getting in. Now the decision was out of their hands, but they were all in. They shared some smiles before stepping aside and letting the guards on the other side tumble into the room before climbing over them and running. It wasn’t long before sirens went off, but it wasn’t entirely for them. An explosion shook the building, causing them all to stop. 

None of them had anything to do with it, so they were wondering what happened. They didn’t have to wait long for answers. A shriek suddenly filled the hall, all of the boys covering their ears. None of them knew what that was, but something felt familiar to Jeno. Without hesitation he ran, going back the way they came and seeming to look for the source of the shriek. The others had followed him and then pulled him into another hall. Multiple guards then run past, clearly focused on something else.

“What are you doing?” Renjun hissed. “This is our chance to escape!”

“We can’t leave.”

“What are you talking about!? Did you hear that thing!? It’s not our problem.”

“Then you go, but I can’t leave.”

“Jeno, what-”

“I don’t know, but I have a feeling here…”

Jeno didn’t wait for them to make a decision, having already made his own. He followed the path of the guards, finding a few of them down and taking their weapons. As he continues his path the sounds of commotion only grow louder. Then he finds what he was looking for. He was rather shocked by what he saw before him, but it wasn’t so unbelievable, at least not to him. Just as he had hoped he found that woman again, except he was now seeing her in a new light. The woman had blood on her hands, and giant white wings sticking out of her back. Going by her outfit it was clear she had been a prisoner here, chains and wires als hanging off of her. He was still stunned by what he was seeing, that is until his eyes met hers.

“Jeno… you’re okay.”

“I… watch out!”

Jeno raised up the gun he had, shooting at one of the guards who had been approaching. He managed to take them down, but not before they slammed a baton down on one of her wings. She screamed but kept her footing. Jeno approached, making sure she was alright.

“We… we need to get out of here…”

“I… I know… but who… who are you? What are you?”

“I’ll give you answers, but not here.”

As the two tried to make their way out Jeno heard more footsteps approaching. He was prepared to fight, only to see his new friends.

“You didn’t leave?”

“We couldn’t just- oh my gosh, what is that?”

“Later. We need to escape.”

“Obviously. That was always the plan.”

Together the group found an exit, fighting off more of the guards. Although Jeno was starting to feel this pressure in his head. He pushed it aside and focused, not wanting to become a liability to the others. When they made it outside that was only half the battle, now needing to escape the facility grounds, and the whole building was on high alert. They ran out into the surrounding woods. Although they all knew they might not be able to get far. Jeno stumbled in his steps and collapsed, everyone coming to a stop.

“Jeno!” The woman grabbed the boy. “We don’t have time for this. Everyone get close.”

The other boys still didn’t know who this woman was, but they would trust her for now. They all got close and were then blinded by a white light. After the disorientation passed they realized their surroundings had changed. They were still surrounded by trees, but it was quiet, and the sun was shining, unlike before.

“How…”

“Jeno… Jeno… I’m so sorry…”

The woman took Jeno’s head into her hands, a white glow emanating from them. A moment later her eyes glowed white and then Jeno’s did too. The other boys yelled, asking what was happening, then there was another explosion of white light. This time the boys shielded their eyes. Now they had two unconscious bodies.

“Uh…”

Jeno suddenly screamed and sat up. He seemed distressed, but the others had no idea what was going on. Jeno wound up on his hands and knees, a splitting headache taking over as images flashed before his eyes. As years and years of memories resurfaced and reminded him of who he truly was. Bright white wings sprouted from his back, surprising the other boys, but that was the least of Jeno’s worries. Once the pain subsided he shifted his focus over to the woman next to him, picking them up in his arms.

“Y/n! Y/n, wake up!”

“… hm…”

“Y/n, y/n, come on.”

Your head was spinning but hearing a familiar voice call your name was nice. You pulled yourself together, offering Jeno a smile when you saw his face.

“You remember me…”

“What are you doing down here!? You’re not a soldier.”

“And you’re not guilty…”

“What are you talking about?”

“It was wrong… to cast you out… I showed them… and they said if I found you… I could bring you back home…”

“Y/n, are you insane!? You could have died down here!”

“I’m fine… what mattered was getting you home…”

“You shouldn’t have done this…”

“I had to… I was so worried… it took so long to find you… and where you were…”

“What did they do to you?”

“That’s what I wanted to know… you didn’t recognize me…”

“I didn’t remember anything. Being cast out and falling, I lost my memory and those… people, took me in and… I don’t know…”

“It doesn’t matter, you can go home now.”

“We should go back together.”

“I… I can’t Jeno…”

“What?”

“I… I hurt people… innocent people…”

“What are you-”

Jeno finally noticed your wings. Before he had only seen the pristine white feathers, but now that he could truly see them up close he noticed a few feathers had turned black.

“You… you’re becoming a fallen…”

“As long as you go home… I’m okay… everyone is waiting for you…”

“Y/n…”

“I’ll be fine…”

“They’ll come after you. They might send me…”

“That’s fine too.”

“No, no it’s not, not to me.”

“Jeno… please…”

“I’m not gonna leave you here. You came to Earth looking for me, how could I go home without you?”

“Cause it’s what I want…”

“But it’s not what I want. I’m not leaving you.”

“Jeno…”

“That’s final. You think I’d go back without you? Not a chance. We’re in this together, besides, we’re not alone.”

Jeno looked at the others. They had all been silent, still trying to process what was happening before them. They were already part of an odd life, but this was something else.

“Are you… are you guys angels?” Jaemin asked. “Like… real life angels?”

“More like were.” Jeno corrected. 

“So… angels are real… and you… what happened?”

“Long story short… I was thrown out. That place we were at found me and took me in… they knew I was something else and… well to them I was just another weapon…”

“No wonder you had top marks.” Chenle mentioned. “You’re not even human.”

“How do you know that you are?”

“I… huh…”

“We need to find shelter.” Jisung stated. “We can’t stay out in the open. Then we need to figure out our next move.”

“As long as we have the angels with us I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“Still. We should move.”

“I know.” Jeno looked back at you. “Can you walk?”

“I think so…”

Jeno helped you to your feet. You could take a few shaky steps, but that wasn’t good enough for Jeno. He told you to put your wings away and then carried you in his arms, bridal style. You felt a bit embarrassed, but you knew he wasn’t going to put you down.

“Jeno… if you don’t-”

“I’ve already made my choice. I’ll become a fallen, like you, and we’ll figure out our life here on Earth.”

“You were one of the best…”

“Cause I had you.”

“You were cast out because-”

“No, that wasn’t your fault. Don’t you dare say it was.”

“It feels like it.”

“You weren’t responsible for my actions then, nor are you now. I actually prefer it this way… the two of us… free from the laws of Heaven…”

“They won’t let us off so easily.”

“Then we’ll fight.”

“Could you take up arms against your former friends?”

“If it means keeping you safe, I’d do anything, you know that.”

“I do.”

You still weren’t sure you liked this idea. You had come down here on your own with the goal to bring Jeno home. Things had gotten complicated, and you couldn’t even admit to Jeno what had happened, but you still wanted him to go home, even if you couldn’t. Although you knew he wouldn’t want to leave without you. The last thing you wanted now was for him to become a fallen, but maybe it was too late for that too. As you walked you noticed Jeno had left his wings out, letting them breathe after all that’s happened. You could see that most of his feathers were white, but there were a few gray ones here and there. 

He may not have any memories of the bad things he had done, but divine law worked differently. All you could do was imagine the type of things he had been up to while on Earth, even if all he had was his name. Perhaps you were both doomed to fall and walk among the mortals. At least it wasn’t just the two of you, and for that you were grateful. The future was going to be difficult, your power was going to change, you were going to change, everything was going to change. You couldn’t help but look up at the sky, a bit scared of what was to come.

“Hey, look at me.” Jeno cooed, and you met his gaze. “We’re gonna be alright.”

“You can’t promise that…”

“But you still believe me, don’t you?”

“Yes…”

“That’s all I need from you, just believe.”

“Are you okay though, really?”

“It’s already been a good couple of months since I was last up there, I’ve already moved on. I’m still sorry I didn’t recognize you…”

“I wish I had found you sooner.”

“Or perhaps you found me right on time.”

“Perhaps. So, what should we do first as mortals?” “We should get something sweet.” Jisung suggested. “We never had any of that before.”

“Maybe some actual food first.” Haechan said. “Not the protein slop they gave us.”

“I’ve been craving a burger.” Mark added. “The taste is on the tip of my tongue.”

“How would you know what a burger tastes like?” Renjun questioned. “Have you had one?”

“No idea. Our memories should start coming back though, since we stopped taking those pills.”

“I wonder what else will come back to us.” Jaemin wondered. “Maybe we are something more. But we don’t have to worry with two angels watching over us.”

“Don’t get cocky.” Chenle stated. “We don’t need angels to take care of us, but they are nice to have.”

“I think we’re all gonna get along just fine.” Jeno added. “Especially for a group of unknown misfits.”

“Wait, you guys don’t know each other?”

“We met properly today.”

“Oh… that’s unique.”

“They’re good people.”

“Angels know what good people look like, and that’s all I see.”

[undertalerainbow]

Seven human souls were what was needed to break the barrier…it has been many moons passed since the monsters have been sealed down here by those they considered friends…that betrayal has long felt with the patrons in the underground, but they still held out hope for reconciliation. Then…they took away their hope from them once again.

They decided never again. Blood for dust, soul for soul, till their debt has been fulfilled and they could free them once again.

Six humans have passed by there since, each bringing their own impact and tragedy to the underground.

One slipped through the cracks, until they were killed by the king

One banded brothers in arms, until they were turned over to the king

One killed every monster in their way, until they finally stopped and worked towards penance which then they themselves were killed when off their guard

One worked hard to provide a better life to the monsters, only to be torn apart by the very people they wanted to help

One finished that work and brought peace to the underground, only for their will to be withered down by the king and their soul taken

And the final learned of the ones before, learning of the monsters plight, what it would take to get out of here, and decided it wasn’t just, thus giving their soul to settle the score.

These children’s souls may be with the king, but their spirits linger on in the items they held so near and dear to their hearts.

Waiting, for someone to wake them up…. For them to guide them with their experience and knowledge…for the final to live.

Undertale Rainbow

Hi everyone! This is an au me and my two writing friends decided to do after playing undertale yellow and adoring clover. We saw undertale red and yellow and thought “huh what if frisk had ALL of the soul kids inside their head?” And thus Undertale Rainbow! This is going to be a prequel story to what we later will make our surface story called UnderOver, but that’s far off in the future. My friends and I have an idea of how to play out this story, but we need time to iron out the smaller details, the kids characters is mostly actualized though!

So in the meanwhile, we’ll be accepting asks/answering questions and do scenarios you’ll suggest. There are future ships in mind, but only four out of the eight characters would actually be paired together. Otherwise the others are single Pringles, or their characters are going to be in UnderOver. All the kids are 13 and most of their ships are supposed to start later in UnderOver for reference. Here’s everyone’s character sheet and a little info (sorry clover’s eyes look wonky for some reason I couldn’t fix it—)

The Underground’s sense of time flow is very different from the surface. While it’s been hundreds of years since the monsters and humans war for humans, for monsters it’s only been 30-50 thanks to resets and other barrier oddities.

The character sheet format was inspired by this creator who has lovely character designs for the kids, check them out their art is eye candy ✨

Here’s also the blogs banner in a fuller view

Thank you all so much for reading this, I’m very excited to start this and so are my friends. I hope you like our versions of the characters as you get to know them more. Cya next time! 💛💛💛

[jiijux]

Similarities?

—𖦹๋࣭⭑

➤ summary: the infamous serial killer bloody painter is in search for a new target only to find oddity in this particular target that makes the killer wonder if what he is targeting for was a human or something more.

✮ Bloody painter x male reader

—★ ˎˊ˗

Footsteps gushing through the dirt with no hint of the sun shining through as this was the perfect timing for the bloody painter in search of his next target to make his presence known by others that he was in fact still a free man walking by using his own technique of torture and artistic for his victim.

When the serial killer found a target that catch his interest he found out this target lived alone which makes things easier for the bloody painter to strike. He waits until the street was quiet with no one's around before he takes a step further to find his targets home, he was going to break in through the window, he found out that the front door wasn't locked for some reason that it made him questioned though he didn't care.

Meanwhile the target that he searches for was in their work office with knees on the ground and head sliding into a painting surface not knowing a serial killer just entered his house.

To the serial killer suprise, the house doesn't looks like it was left by it's owner and forget to bring their keys with them, he knows this from the tap water running from the kitchen. Oddly enough, the whole atmosphere in the house feels weird to him but he ignored the feeling before taking further inspection at the kitchen until it took him by suprise a dark yet blue coloured liquid spread to the whole sink, it's not watery enough to be paint but not also thick enough to be one.

The smell reeks of blood in the sink which made the serial killer questioned what is his soon to be victim is doing. Is he some sort of scientist that does experiment on squid or spiders? He could only imagine that the victim was some crazy mad scientists which seems reasonable for him to kill.

While the serial killer search for every room, you as the victim were in an unconscious state for some reason which taken you by suprise as you realised something dripping from your mouth that looks like to be a dark blue liquid. You don't understand what's going on but your tongue hurts.

It hurts to the point you want to scream but something was stopping you as you try to prevent the liquid from dripping even more as it makes a mess on your floor until you backed away to find out your canvas was smeared away by the blue liquid which makes you frustrated. You couldn't help but almost try burning another peace of your paintings until something stopped you which just makes you approached the painting again and sliding your head against the canvas unable to stop the flowing blue liquid as all you could feel were numb and pain in your tongue.

As you slides your head against the painting, something just hit you as you remembered who this painting was for. Caressing the surface of the canvas as you thought there's no point in ever continuing to paint, what was your reason to paint? Wasn't there always a reason to or was it not needed? Painting were the only thing you were able to express yourself through each strokes. Though that can't be said when painting someone you truly desires to be with as each canvas was wasted only for one person.

Now that you think about it, what makes a person so special? Was there someone so special and different that it's hard to be described by words and shapes or form. As if they are not meant to be in this world but to make a memory for those who have met them, yet they died so tragically and fast.

Why is it that when a human suffers, they have to keep living and are unable to end their life due to the perception that everything will went great each day, but those who are a great and kind is targeted by fate to die quickly. Wasn't they're more needed in this world than those who brings suffering.

As you reminiscent about the thoughts of it, you had no guts to get up and just glances to the ground.

The bloody painter search for every room until he was at the front door of the office room, he was sure that his target was hiding here because every room he searched for, he couldn't find his soon to be victim so he was sure they're in this room. But imagine his surprise once the door finally opened revealing a guy on his knees facing a painting that was smeared with the same blue liquid he saw in the sink.

He almost thought the target was dead but his arm was still moving through the canvas, he was about to strike until he looked at the target condition. He took a step away from the target and look at the full picture with how everything was arranged, it was as if it was a piece of art. This interest him even more in the target if this was intentional but as he approached the target closer again, which was named (y/n) according to the pictures attached on the fridge showing the target name with an unknown girl.

The target who is now (y/n) looked at the serial killer with lack of complaints when facing the man as the expression were dull and the same blue liquid was drill from the target mouth without a warning the target unconsciously touch the mask of Bloody painter with both hands before feeling it leaving a mark which caused the serial killer to instantly backed off. This target was a weird one but he is quite intriguing to the serial killer as he reached for the target face and looking at it closer and he realised that the target was bleeding from how he reeks the smell of blood coming from its mouth.

This was fascinating to him, a human blood that is quite impossible to have as this looks like a human and even act like it which made the serial killer wonder if this was even possible. He decided that he would stay with this one a bit longer as he touches the jaw and (y/n) mouth opened.

It causes him nauseous with how blue it is but what caught his attention was (y/n)'s tongue was cut in half which could explain about everything he saw in the house now. He was quite curious about wanting to know the reason behind it but he decided that might be for later.

He looks around the room as this target as quite skilled with artwork especially paintings and statues but all of it represents the same person, it was carved with care and fondness. He felt something tug his jacket as he glanced down to (y/n) pulling his jacket as the man seems to drag himself towards him as if he wanted to say something or maybe stop him? He couldn't figure out.

"You're quite an interesting one are you?" The bloody painter spoke in a mocking tone as if he enjoyed seeing his target like this, suffering, hopeless, with no help at sight.

The serial killer watches how the target began to write on the floor that spelled out.

"Get out."

(1/?)

[thenightling]

One pet peeve I have about the Interview with the vampire TV show is how obsessed with the vampire's sexuality the show runner and marketing people seem to be. The vampires were physically unable to have sex in the books. Some of you might go "But what about Pandora!" Read it again before trying to use that as proof. We're thoroughly told us they couldn't actually do anything. The Vampire Lestat had Lestat compare vampires to Osiris because of the organ Osiris lost. The idea of making love is part of what tempted Lestat in the novel Tale of the Body thief. The only reason Lestat was able to have a son in Prince Lestat was because he took part in an experiment that temporarily rendered him human via plot device IV drip. In the novels the vampires experienced intimacy through blood exchange but that's besides the point. Everyone who read the book knows that all of Anne Rice's vampires are bisexual (Pansexual as many would call it now) and have been from the start. And yet I feel almost insulted, pandered to where it's like that's all there is to the characters in the marketing for the show. Don't believe me? Check out the official Instagram or Facebook. It's like "Oh, and they're gay. Have we mentioned they're gay." "They're Queer! Did you know they're queer?! Look, they're queer!" And it's like... And? I miss how the books treated it as something nonchalant, natural, and even mundane. By the time you got to the novel Queen of the damned you viewed Armand and Daniel as nonchalantly as you'd view romantic depictions of Dracula with his Mina. (Yes, I know Dracula and Mina were not lovers in the novel but that's not the point.) When you keep having to point it out as an oddity you are "othering" and acting like it's something weird and should be treated as weird. The novels normalized the relationships so that you just accepted that everyone was pan. There's no homophobia, and no constant reminders of "Yes, they're queer!" Even Lestat's "single" that dropped last month had the line "Here come the gays." ...Why? (All the lyrics are terrible, by the way). I was hoping the show would be more like Lost Girl in that the assumption is everyone is potentially attracted to everyone and no one makes a big deal about it. But instead it's like a song lyric from Doctor Horrible. "Next up, 'Whose gay?'"

[sorrel-leaf-vespers]

Good [timezone] DoaI Sitcom AU Tumblr, have some Simon (recommend you read this post beforehand if you want context!

Alex had found a way to climb up to the roof of the house near the barn. They had been sitting up there all night, using the moonlight to try to jot down their asylum-raid plan. Clyde was getting more restless by the day, worried sick about Winfrey. Alex knew they had to get Winfrey out of the asylum soon. It might have been the only way to keep Clyde from charging headfirst into a fight they might not have been able to win. Alex didn’t doubt its abilities, but one Veldigun against countless caretakers was a fight they didn’t want to risk. 

There was also the issue of Alex’s Veldigun sickness. They had noticed their fingers had started developing stripes similar to those on Clyde, Simon, and Flock. They had started having some back pain, maybe from where spines would start to grow in. They were starting to get more energetic at night and lethargic during the day. Other than that, there had been no negative side effects, miraculously. They had already discussed things with the other three- er, two, since it wasn't like the Flock could contribute much to the discussions. It was an oddity. The working theory was that Alex’s prolonged exposure to Clyde had made them immune to the side effects. There was no way to prove it, but it was enough of an explanation for Alex.

“What are you doing?” someone asked.

Alex turned around. Simon was climbing onto the roof. “Oh. Hi, Simon. I’m working on the breakout plan.”

Simon looked over Alex’s shoulder at the notebook. “Mm. I see.”

“Are you still sure you don’t want to come?”

“Even if they are caretakers, I don’t want to risk hurting a human.”

Alex nodded. “You know, I don’t know too much about you, despite the fact that I’ve been in your barn for a while. What’s your story?”

“My… story?” Simon chuckled nervously. “Well, what do you want to know?”

“Mostly about you. Why do you wear the costume?”

Simon stared at Alex for a few moments, then sighed and sat down next to them. “Well… you know what Veldigun look like. Most humans find them intimidating. Terrifying. The costume makes me more approachable. I can hide in plain sight. There are a few more... personal reasons... but it’s how I’ve been able to learn so much about humans.”

“Why do you want to study them?”

“The same reason you want to study Veldigun. They’re a fascinating species, and I want to learn all I can about them in order to understand and coexist with them. I’m vehemently against harming them, as you know.”

“Why is that?”

Simon went silent. “... I regret doing so.”

“You what?”

“There’s a question I’ve been dodging since we met. I…” Simon heaved a sigh. “Hell. You remember when Clyde called me a hypocrite?”

Alex nodded.

“It sees me as such because I did originally target humans. In my earlier days, I was wandering through these woods, starving and alone. I came across this house and this barn. I thought maybe I could use this place for shelter. It was the middle of the night, so I felt safe. I snuck into the house and started exploring. I went upstairs, and I found…” Simon’s posture shifted, making him appear much smaller. “There was a young boy in one of the bedrooms. I was young and inexperienced, and naive and foolish as all Hell, and… God, this is going to be hard for me to say…”

“You killed him?”

Simon nodded. “I didn’t fully understand the consequences of my actions back then. I was starving, and I just… without a second thought, he was gone. In the next room, I found his parents, and… they suffered the same fate.” Simon wrapped his arms around himself. “I was content for a bit, but then I got to delve into their minds, as you can figure. What I discovered about them was not what I expected. These were unique creatures, with complex lives and fascinating experiences. They were curious, perceptive, intuitive. They were… a lot like us. Like Veldigun. I immediately began to regret what I had done. I saw that humans needed to be protected. I swore off hurting any more. That’s also why I decided to settle on this farm. So their minds can remain here for as long as I can allow.”

Alex didn’t say anything. What could they even say? Simon very clearly regretted what he had done, treating it like a genuine mistake. He clearly loved humans. “So is that why Clyde called you a hypocrite and treats you like a rival?”

Simon was silent for a few moments, then nodded. “It sees humans as nothing but a food source. Though, with you entering the picture, I wonder if its perception has changed. If there’s one thing that Clyde is motivated by, it’s food. Maybe giving it a pre-prepared meal and a source of shelter got you on its good side. That is what you wanted, no?” Simon chuckled a little. “I am the protector of humanity, and Clyde is its adversary. I’ve accepted it at this point.”

“What about Winfrey? Clyde has refused to talk about them in detail, but Winfrey seems to be a pretty big motivator.”

“Winfrey?” Simon glanced around at the surroundings. “I feel bad talking about Clyde behind its back, but… yes, I suppose that Winfrey would also be a big motivator for Clyde to take action.”

“Are they close?”

“You could say that. They’re… I suppose there’s no other way to say it. They’re romantically involved.”

Alex almost fell off the roof. “They’re WHAT?”

“Yes. Winfrey is the most important person in the world to Clyde. No doubt if it didn’t have you to restrain it, it would have raided the Asylum already. And to be honest, I think we should stop the discussion there. If Clyde doesn’t want to talk about it, it may not appreciate me disclosing this information.” Simon paused. “Although, as much as Clyde and I may bicker, thank you for keeping it safe.”

“It’s no problem.” Alex turned back to their notebook. The stakes had just been raised.

Simon stood up and stretched inside his costume. “The sun is coming up. I think I’ll go wrangle the Flock and get it inside to sleep.”

“Seeya.”

“I’ll report back soon.”

Simon slid off the roof and down into the house. Alex leaned back. Wow. What an evening full of discoveries that made this mission even more important.

[jpitha]

Humans are Space Oddities/Deathworlders/Space Orcs/Whatever worldbuilding: Remember it's a living world! Think about how everything fits together.

Even if you don't put it into your story, think about how things would actually work on your space station/starship/planet/whatever. It can be a fun exercise to imagine things like:

How does everyone get fed?

Where do they sleep? In barracks? In houses? in dormitories?

Who takes care of the utilities?

What happens if there's a fire?

When the humans came aboard the starbase they brought with them their own ideas about how to do things. After all, they've been in space for a long time, most of that time alone. Just about any scenario that could happen, did happen to them at least once...sometimes twice if they weren't paying attention.

With their propensity for solving problems with explosions (they will always exclaim that it was a "minor" explosion) and their seemingly genetic tolerance for risk, it is inevitable that the humans have robust systems in place to help with disasters. One of their most respected first responders on the joint Human/K'laxi starbase is the Fire Brigade. Made up of two-thirds human and one-third K'laxi, their highly polished red pressure suits with gold accents and the large Maltese Cross - a human symbol for a fire brigade - is a welcome sight anytime a conflagration gets out of hand.

One may point out that in space, all the starbase AI has to do is remove the air from a room with a fire and it will be extinguished. This is true, but should only be considered a last resort. If a fire can be extinguished in a more traditional way, with foam, water and carbon dioxide, it's a much less traumatic experience for all involved. Additionally, there are many internal rooms where there is no direct access to hard vacuum. Multiple rooms would have to be evacuated to extinguish the fire. There is always work for the Fire Brigade.

It is a volunteer service, which meets 3 times a week for training; usually in the evening. All members are required to be available to drop what they are doing as respond to an emergency at least 4 times a month.

They keep their pressure suits in whatever suit locker is closest to their homes and it is their own responsibility to maintain and keep it clean. Polished brightwork and gleaming suits are a hallmark of the fire brigade, and every member takes it seriously.

Nearly every weekend, children of all stripes will congregate at the main "firehouse" and watch the members train and polish and maintain their equipment. The fire brigade vehicles - while small and meant more for hauling gear and hoses rather than people - are just about the only vehicles on the starbase, so they're always a big hit with the kids.

Many children request a visit from the fire brigade at birthday parties. So long as they're not currently occupied, they're always willing to have a few members show up lights and sirens blaring in full turn-out gear to teach fire safety and let the kids sit in the truck and wear the pressure helmets.

The fire brigade is a respected institution on the starbase and their word on fire safety is final. Even the starbase AI will ask for their opinion about things related to fire safety.

They may never be the main focus of life aboard the starbase, but everyone is glad they are there, ready to help.