#and was my excuse to worldbuild them a little more

[pyrriax]

a little wisp and some potential flora sketches (along with a very generic one of the nudibranchs since i didnt have too much to change about them)

[treecakes]

UNFORTUNATELY! if you’re not in my main oc universe like the main group or mikey & eilidh i just forget to think abt you. 😭 though i have drawn devon & eleonoora a ton since i started this sketchbook in 2022. however solfrid and lovise get a single drawing EACH!! i should remedy that lol.

[dottores]

HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, theta hurts reader but only a little, this was not edited sorry for mistakes 😭

notes: alrighty guys, this is officially the last chapter of the regular schedule—after this one, updates are going to be sporadic but they will at the very least be monthly. wish i could keep up the schedule but its not going to be feasible considering i start law school this upcoming wednesday </3 i'll update the masterlist to reflect the change too

SPIT IN MY FACE

“Excuse me?”

The masked man—had Gamma called him Theta?—kept a tight grip on your wrist, holding it up in front of you so he could look at it himself. He was stronger than he looked, you tried to rip your wrist out of his hold but failed. His nails dug into your skin in response to the attempt, drawing blood. You grimaced as you watched a thin line of red seep down your forearm. 

“You heard me.” Theta’s smile didn’t budge as his other hand came up to grab your chin, turning your head away from where Kappa was still buried in the crook of your neck to face him. “Was he trying to keep you hidden away or were you trying to hide from us?”

He wasn’t looking at your hand. He was looking at your finger or more specifically… where your thread was hanging from it, leading off somewhere to the left of you wherever Dottore was. You remembered how Kappa had looked down at your hand curiously before deciding to come over to you, the way he was so at ease with you for no reason. And Gamma. Gamma had looked at your hand before he started panicking and ran off.

Could they… see it?

“Hm?” Theta’s nails dug into your cheeks now, just like how he had with the aristocrat—you didn’t even know where they went, if they had taken the opportunity to flee or if he had done something to immobilize them, you couldn’t turn your head to check. You grimaced as you felt his nails break skin again. “Answer me.”

How was that possible?

You could all but taste the poison in his words, the impatience and the frustration. You were at a loss as to how to proceed—your arms were tied up with Kappa, one of your hands was stuck in his and he was forcing you to look at him, and that unhinged look in his red eyes was causing your brain to fog with fear.

Think. You had to think. You had to free your wrist from his hand. You had to get back to your room, or to Pantalone’s. 

Where was Pantalone? Livid, you realized that the man was probably still listening in on the show, not getting involved, leaving you to deal with this unstable bastard. 

Think. What did he want to hear? What would make him settle down at least enough to loosen his grip on you?

But how the hell were you supposed to know what he wanted you to hear? Even with just the way he spat out those two questions, you knew both answers were wrong and would set him off more. But you had to say something, the longer you went without answering his question, the more his eyes flamed with impatience—you didn’t want to know what would happen when that thin thread of patience snapped.

“I came here, didn’t I?” you asked quietly. You tried to relax your shoulders and upper body, exuding a type of faux-comfort with the man. “I came looking for you.”

Theta’s red eyes narrowed with suspicion, watching you carefully—his grip did not waver, much to your distress. 

“You don’t even know who I am,” he said coldly, speaking the one truth you’d hoped he wouldn’t. His grip on your wrist tightened and his nails dug deeper into your cheeks. “I hate liars.”

“I’m not lying,” you told him, grimacing as his nail dragged against your skin. Kappa shifted in your arms, bristling, you couldn’t tell if he was watching or not. “You can see the thread, no? I may not fully understand how you can see it but the fact that you can speaks enough.”

Theta hesitated, the corner of his lip dipping in doubt as he tried to decide whether or not he thought you were lying. You watched with bated breath, tongue kissing the inside of your teeth, as a flurry of emotions rushed through his eyes ranging from anger to hesitancy and hope. Then his eyes hardened, decision made, and your heart sunk to your stomach.

“Liar.”

Again, his grip tightened but it was painful now and your body begged you to pull away or do something but he was stronger than you. He forced you closer to him, turning you so that if Kappa wasn’t between you, you would’ve been chest-to-chest with him. You wondered if you should let him go, let him flee somewhere safe, but he was still clutching your shirt.

Theta leaned in close, you could feel his breath hot against your cheek and the cool ceramic of his mask nudging against your skin where his nose would have been. You grit your teeth together as you felt something warm and wet press against the skin of your cheek where his nails had broken through, lapping at the blood.

Your face felt hot, anger and humiliation curdling your blood as Theta let out a puff of amused laughter against your skin.

“You taste like a liar too,” Theta crooned. “Lambda thinks you’re a fake sent to distract us. Are you a fake, little liar?”

Us. He kept saying us but you don’t know what that meant or how it was possible—they could see the thread but as far as you could tell, they did not have a connecting one. You had never seen anything like that before, nor had you ever read about anything like that. 

You thought you should say something but your mind was reeling as you tried to piece together the puzzle and figure out what was going on.

But before you could do or say anything, Kappa squirmed and twisted in your arms, hanging over you to whack his small fist hard against Theta’s mask—with more strength than you expected from the boy. 

Theta grunted stumbling back—he wasn’t hurt but the force of Kappa’s swing had partially knocked his mask off, revealing thick scars similar to the ones you had seen on Gamma. He fumbled trying to straighten out the mask and as he did, you whirled around to rush to your room.

You didn’t get far. 

Not because of Theta, who was cursing as he fastened the mask back on, but because you slammed right into someone else’s chest, broad and dressed in dark clothes. You glanced up as a pair of gloved hands grabbed your waist, irritation rising at Pantalone’s thin, close-eyed smile. You wondered if you had passed or failed whatever test he expected from this situation. 

The pads of his fingers pressed into your waist as he shifted you over to the side and behind him, leveling his attention on Theta as the man straightened back, narrowed eyes still trained on you instead of the Harbinger. 

“Theta.” Venom dripped from Pantalone’s words as he spoke his name. “I suggest you make your way back to the Doctor’s labs instead of bothering my guest.”

“Your?” Theta spat out, taking a step forward. His eyes were wild again now, far gone from the hardened look he had directed toward you after he made his decision. You stiffened, watching as Pantalone lifted his chin, raising his eyebrows, challenging Theta. “She is not your anything, banker. Go back to counting your coins and sucking noble cock to get further in the world, stay out of our business.”

Pantalone, to his credit, did not look bothered by the dig—the only sign of anger was the way his lip twitched before he spoke: “Take it up with your maker, fraud. You have no authority here, you are not the Doctor.”

“I am-” 

Sharp and loud, Theta’s voice rang up and down the hall as he took two long steps forward as if to attack Pantalone but the Harbinger only let out a huff of amusement as he cut Theta off mid-shout.

“I am not one of the subordinates who you can fool into believing you are him. You are a rabid dog running a thin line between life and death. It is only a matter of time before you’re put down, I again suggest you leave before I make that day come sooner.” 

You thought that you shouldn’t feel anything for the man standing a few paces away but something deep in you clenched when Theta drew back as if he’d been physically slapped, red eyes wide with shock. The feeling did not last long though because as quick as the hurt appeared, it was gone, twisting into something far more sinister as a wide smile spread across his lips, teeth bared much like the rabid dog Pantalone claimed him to be. 

“You think you can kill me?” 

Something manic stained his words, deranged and challenging as if he meant for Pantalone to back his words right then and there. Theta did not have a vision, not one that you could see or feel at least, but you knew in your bones that he was far, far more dangerous than he looked—he was strong and he moved faster than any visionless human you’d ever seen. Briefly, you wondered if he even was hu-

Pantalone stepped forward and the air around the four of you crackled with an energy that made your skin crawl. You let out a shaky breath, eyes widening as you took a step away from the man, unconsciously trying to get away from the source of the energy, an unnatural and uncomfortable feeling spreading through you. 

What is that? 

It felt sick. Corrupted. The air tasted stale and rotted as it seeped down the halls like poison. Your vision was reacting in response to it, the purity of the hydro energy trying to repel the new, malefic energy but it was curling all around you, trying to find chinks in the thin shield your vision was providing you from the decay. 

You had to get away from it but your feet were rooted to the ground, watching the scene play out before you. Neither Theta nor Pantalone looked bothered by the energy—in fact, Theta looked thrilled, eyes alight as his impossibly wide smile widened even more, a giggle slipping from his lips as he raised his hand as if to summon something, but before he could snap his fingers, his eyes dulled and his knees hit the ground hard. Almost like he had been turned off, just like that.

What-

At once, the energy around Pantalone dissipated and you could move, confusion riddling your mind as you tried to figure out what happened to Theta and what that disgusting energy was. You took a step forward, eyes wide and trained on Theta first—was that Pantalone’s doing? But as you turned to look at him, your gaze caught sight of a figure down the hall. 

Dottore. 

You were bleeding. 

Dottore could feel his cheeks stinging but he hadn’t been sure what it was until he got to the hall in Pantalone’s wing where Gamma had left you. Theta was on the ground, empty-eyed and still, turned off courtesy of Dottore, and Pantalone was standing to the side of you, seemingly unimpressed by the whole situation. 

But you were looking at him, and only him, and he could only focus on you, eyes tracing the blood as it dripped down your cheeks to your neck, dribbling down your skin. With creased brows and lips pressed together tightly, he couldn’t tell if the look you were directing toward him was suspicion or anger or something else entirely. The only thing he could feel from you was what he assumed were the remnants of the confrontation with Theta: fear, anxiety, skepticism, confusion, disgust. 

Disgust, was that directed toward him or Theta or both of them? It didn’t sit well with him. He wondered how much Theta had told you, and he wondered how much you’d been able to piece together from what he had. Dottore had been hoping to keep the existence of the segments a secret from you. 

The last thing he wanted to have to do was get into depth about what they were because if he knew you even half as well as he thought he did, he knew it would turn into an interrogation of all that he’d been up to with his research. Even when you were young, when the third phase of the bond had first manifested, he had to be careful about what he was thinking about so that it wasn’t transcribed to you. Countless times he received words from you that could have only been originally given by him: the names of the segments, residue, deactivate, and Dottore knew that you must be taking every word he sent you to relentlessly research into them. 

“Doctor,” Pantalone finally drawled as Dottore came to a stop in front of them, forcing his attention away from you just for a second. “It’s about time that you’ve leashed your mad dog, I’m quite tired of dealing with him.”

Dottore didn’t acknowledge his words. Instead, he focused his attention back onto you—the only apparent wounds were the deep scratch marks on your cheek and wrist, painful but mostly superficial. It would heal in a few days at most, he would pass along an ointment to Pantalone so he could give it to you to speed along the healing process. 

The issue for Dottore laid in the boy tucked neatly in your arms, hiding his face against your skin.

The Kappa segment. 

Dottore exhaled. That would be trouble trying to handle. The Kappa segment was skittish and nervous. He usually only stuck around Epsilon, Iota or Gamma, he even tried to avoid the other segments if he could. Dottore had a feeling that it was because they reminded him of their father but he couldn’t be sure. 

Either way, he had never latched onto someone like this before and Dottore had a feeling it would be an issue trying to get him away from you. He didn’t like shutting down the younger segments—or any of the segments for that matter because it tended to mess with their wiring—but he thought he might have to in order to get the kid back to the estate without alerting the entire palace to your presence and relationship to him. 

His eyes lingered on you, only for a few more moments, watching the way you held Kappa close, arms wrapped around him tightly as if to shield him from danger. Kappa seemed like he was on the verge of dozing off, his shoulders rising and falling steadily—he’d never seen him so comfortable with someone that wasn’t Epsilon before. Something unfamiliar tightened his chest. Longing? Desire? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. 

He looked away sharply, finally turning his attention to Pantalone. 

“Regrator, don’t act as if you spend all of your free time reluctantly handling my segments. You are usually asking for them, in fact,” Dottore said dryly. He barely spared you another look as he said: “I’ll handle this. Go back to your room and rest.”

Your face twisted and Dottore bit back a sigh, realizing that round three of his war of words with you was about to begin.

“I am not a child,” you shot back, voice tight. “You can’t just send me to my room. I have questions and you will give me answers now. I’ve waited long enough.”

Dottore had a feeling that you were not just talking about the past few hours. You were talking about the decade he had spent ignoring your existence. Unfortunately for you, he had no interest in answering your questions, not now or ever. 

He turned his attention back to Pantalone, ignoring the furious look that spread across your face at being blatantly ignored. Luckily—or unluckily, time would tell—Epsilon stepped in. He watched as your brows dipped in suspicion, looking between Epsilon and Dottore warily. If you hadn’t put together something was very, very wrong with the existence of Kappa, Gamma and Theta already, he had a feeling that Epsilon’s appearance just sealed it. 

Dottore turned away as Epsilon took your hand in his to press his lips to your knuckles before he gently led you in the direction of the door on the left. Gamma and Iota followed behind, the latter far more excited than the former. Gamma cast one last pleading look in Dottore’s direction just as Iota slammed the door shut behind them. 

Dottore, as he turned his attention to Theta’s still body, thought this might just be the worst case scenario. All three of the children. Theta. Epsilon. The last segments Dottore wanted meeting you all somehow managed to do just that within hours of you being in Zapolyarny. This would spread to all of the rest of the segments in no time and then he would have Zeta demanding to see proof of your existence and Rho lurking about curious; he’d have Delta bashing down the palace door to get Iota away from you, convinced by Lambda that you were only here to deceive them. And he’d have Lambda doing god knows what to try to remove your existence from their lives so they could continue their research without distraction. 

He needed a plan of action and he needed it fast but first, he had to deal with this. 

“What happened?” 

“Two aristocrats came up looking for the Kappa segment,” Pantalone said off-handedly. “Your soulmate interfered.”

“Interfered?” Dottore demanded. “What was she doing wandering around?”

Pantalone raised his eyebrows. “Was I meant to lock her in her room?”

Dottore looked at him coldly, silently telling him yes, he should have. They could not afford to have any of their subordinates run into you, much less any of the Harbingers and he knew that some of them would be searching for you. He remembered Columbina’s cryptic comment about you a few months ago, Sandrone’s fury at your presence in Snezhnaya, Arlecchino’s odd interest in you—and if Arlecchino was interested, it was only a matter of time before she sent her attack dog after you to find out whatever she wanted to know. Keeping you isolated from the rest of the Fatui was paramount.

“What happened with Theta?” Dottore asked after Pantalone let out an exaggerated sigh of agreement. 

“What always happens with Theta,” Pantalone said dismissively. “He gets set off and lashes out. Was going on about her faking the bond, apparently Lambda is going around convincing them she’s lying.”

Of course, Dottore thought bitterly. He knew that Lambda had been talking to Zeta, Delta and Rho but he thought the segment knew better than to get Theta wound up about this. 

He took a deep breath, taking a step away to calm himself down. Well, that made that decision: the first thing he had to do was talk to Lambda, he couldn’t have him turning the segments against you, least of all Theta, who was very liable to attack those that he thinks did him wrong. After that, he would figure out what to do with the rest of the segments because in stopping Lambda, he would have to admit to them all that you were his soulmate, that this was all real. 

That this was all real. 

Dottore shut his eyes briefly, unconsciously looking in the direction of where you, Epsilon and the kids had disappeared behind the dark door that led to your room. His body itched to follow them in there—the bond in work, surely, but he could feel it was getting stronger. It was stronger than it was while he had been dancing with you, and even stronger than it had been while talking to you outside of the washroom. He should just grab Theta and drag him back down to his lab, leaving Epsilon to deal with your interrogation, but his feet weren’t cooperating.

“You should speak to her,” Pantalone said as he turned to go back to his own room. “If you’re going to have me confine her to this wretched place, you should at the very least, explain to her why… lest you have a very unhappy soulmate on your hands. I doubt that would be conducive to productivity.” 

Dottore hummed dismissively, glancing back at the door once. He supposed should, he didn’t want to deal with your turbulent emotions, especially when he was going to be dealing with the segments. 

Distantly, a part of him wondered if he was just using that as a logical excuse to give in to the pull of the bond. 

“And Doctor, do get me that prototype by the morning as promised.”

You felt overwhelmed. The older boy, Gamma, was sitting in the corner of your room, knees tucked to his chest as he watched you with the younger two. Kappa was fast asleep now, tiny arms slung around your neck as he slept—you had tried to place him down on your bed but whenever you tried to pull him away from you, his arms tightened and he started stirring awake. The other one, you didn’t know his name yet, was kneeling on the floor next to the bed where you were sitting, big red eyes peeked above the comforter, watching you with varying degrees of suspicion and distrust and longing.

He had the same scar on the upper half of his face that Gamma did, you couldn’t help but notice, down to the burn patterns and wrinkles. And they were identical, if Gamma was a few years younger, he’d be the spitting image of the kid. It was impossible. Not even brothers can be so similar as to be identical down to the wrinkles and patterns in scars. 

So, what were they?

You had to have been onto something when you thought it was some sort of experiment—Kappa was too young to have been born eight years ago, Gamma and the new kid were too similar in appearances, if you saw correctly when Kappa partially knocked off the mask even Theta seemed to have some scars on his face, and Theta and Kappa both showed a strength that did not reflect in their body.

A throat being cleared knocked you out of your thoughts, your eyes drew up from the kids to where the man was standing near the door. He gave you a small, apologetic smile as his eyes met yours—red and gentle. 

Who was this?

You watched the man with thinly veiled suspicion. He looked just like Dottore, silvery blue hair styled the same way and even wearing a similar dark button-up that he did. 

Except unlike Dottore, he was not wearing a mask. 

His skin was smooth compared to the scars of the children and instead of the ever-present frown of Dottore, the corner of his lips were turned up. You had grown used to the cold aloofness of your soulmate over the years, it unnerved you how someone could look so much like him and yet feel entirely different. 

You raised your chin as Epsilon came to sit on the edge of the bed next to you, keeping your expression stony, studying him to try to figure out what he wanted from you.

“Peace,” he murmured. “I’d just like to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.” 

He had a white handkerchief between his fingers and you were acutely aware of the blood still dripping down your cheeks and arm. He raised his eyebrows, but sighed when he realized you weren’t going to budge, placing the handkerchief back in his pocket. 

“Very well,” he said quietly. “I’m sure you have questions. I can answer them if you’d like.”

Of course you had questions, but could you trust him to answer them? 

He didn’t appear as if he was trying to deceive you, his eyes were warm and his lips were lax, he had none of that tightness that Dottore usually had. Was he faking it? Or was he wanting to help you? You couldn’t tell, his demeanor was throwing you off.

“You’re really her?” a new, young voice said softly, voice hesitant but tinged with the slightest bit of hope that had your heart aching. You looked back toward the kid as he peered up at you through thick curls of hair cautiously. “Our soulmate?”

Our.

Your ears rang, distantly watching as the boy reached out for your hand, thin fingers playing with yours until he reached the one your thread was looped around. From the corner of your eye, you looked at the older man, who was watching you with a knowing expression.

Our.

How was that possible? He could clearly see your thread, trying to play with it and tug at it in the same way you used to as a child, but he had no connecting one, like the Doctor did. Did that make you his soulmate but he was not yours? Was there such a thing as unrequited soulmates? But you didn’t think it was that simple, there was a critical piece of information you were still missing.

But the kid was looking at you again, anxiously awaiting your response, and you didn’t have the heart to deny him. Even if you weren’t sure what was going on, he could undeniably see your thread.

“Yes,” you finally said, watching as he lit up, red eyes pooling with tears and lips trembling as he flung himself forward, burying his face into your lap. He jostled Kappa, who kicked his foot out instinctively, but the kid was unbothered.

“I knew you were real.” His voice was muffled into the cloths of your dress. “Everyone said you weren’t but I knew you were.”

Your throat tightened and your now free hand twitched from where it was laying on the comforter of your bed, coming up to pat his head.

You let out a shaky breath, lifting your gaze to focus on the man still sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you with an indecipherable expression.

“I’ve never seen them take to someone like this before,” he said softly. “I suppose it’s just further proof that you are who you claim to be. Some of the others thought it might be a ploy.”

Others, you wondered distantly but you were more focused on the last thing he said, face twisting.

“I would not fake a soul bond,” you said tightly, mind turning to your stepfather and your mother, your dead father and your destroyed family.

“I insulted you,” he realized. “My apologies, it was not my intention. I was not one of the ones that thought that way but I figured it was best for you to know and prepare, some of them might doubt you when they meet you.”

“How many of you are there?” you asked, but the more important question that you just couldn’t push out was what are you?

“Excluding the Doctor, there are nine of us. I’m called Epsilon. Kappa is the youngest, then Iota, who is on your lap, and then Gamma, who’s sitting over there,” he explained.

You looked back over to where Gamma was sitting. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, staring out the window into the dark night… or maybe he was. Amused, you realized that he was still watching you carefully through the reflection of the window. As soon as he realized that you noticed what he was doing, he turned his head away quickly.

“He’ll warm up,” Epsilon said quietly. You looked back toward him, watching as his lips turned up, red eyes glittering, as if sharing some secret with you. “He’s nervous.”

You couldn’t help the way you let out a puff of amusement, studying Gamma and the way he was digging his nails into the palm of his hand and tapping his foot against the wood of the window nook incessantly. 

“I don’t… really understand all of this,” you finally admitted, relaxing a bit with Epsilon. You let yourself lean back against the large, decorative pillows set up on the bed, watching the man that looked eerily similar to Dottore, wondering if this was what he looked like beneath the mask as well.

“This is new for all of us too,” Epsilon told you, “so I can’t really explain to you what all of the bonds might be or mean… but I’m sure that is not what you’re asking right now, is it?”

“Not entirely, at least. First I’d like to understand…”

What you are. What they are. Why you can see the thread and why the children think that I’m their soulmate too.

“Well, I’ll do my best at explaining then. You deserve that much at least.”

The heavy weight on your chest lifted, if only a little. You thought that this might be the first time in weeks, months, that someone was actually giving you answers. Your father passed and left you with only questions, the masked person from the inn gave you even more questions and not a single answer, and now even Dottore refused to answer your questions, he just sent you away for Pantalone to deal with. 

“Thanks,” you said softly, eyes meeting his again.

Epsilon gave you a small smile, lips parting to speak but before he could say anything, the door to your room opened again. Your gaze shot up, eyes falling upon a familiar masked figure standing in the frame, lips pressed together tightly. 

“Epsilon,” Dottore said coldly. “Bring Theta down to the lab.”

Epsilon sighed heavily, shooting you an apologetic look before rising to his feet. “Another time,” he offered, and you nodded, disappointed, ignoring how Dottore’s lips turned downward.

Epsilon made his way out of the room, slipping past Dottore, and Gamma threw himself off the nook and scampered after Epsilon, fleeing the room without another look toward you. 

The door slam shut behind them, an eerie silence sweeping over the room as he left you with Dottore.

Dottore’s already sour mood worsened when Epsilon flung him a triumphant look as soon as his back was turned to you. He wondered what he said to you in those few minutes he was in here alone with you but for some reason, he doubted that you would tell him and he by no means wanted to add more fuel to the fire by appearing interested in you. Narrowed eyes followed Epsilon as he left the room, shutting the door harshly behind him and the Gamma segment so he could speak to you without unwelcome ears listening in.

The Kappa and Iota segments made no move to leave—one being fast asleep and the other now watching Dottore suspiciously, shifting behind you to peek over your shoulder at him. Dottore could see the boy clutching something in his hand, knuckles white around the object and arms tensed as if ready to throw it. Dottore raised his eyebrows, albeit knowing neither of you could see the action anyway. 

He ignored Iota and drew closer to the bed, taking a seat on the opposite side of the mattress that Epsilon had been sitting on as he observed you. You looked exhausted—your eyes looked heavy and tired, they didn’t have the same spark in them that they had earlier in the night, and the blood from the scratch marks on your was smeared messily, staining your skin and dress. 

Irritated, Dottore wondered why Epsilon hadn’t cleaned it up, pulling out a cloth from his jacket pocket and shifting a little closer. He grabbed your arm first, ignoring that tingling sensation as it reappeared as soon as the pads of his fingers were pressed against your bare skin, and especially ignoring the red thread tied around your finger. 

He could feel your eyes on him as he carefully wiped away the blood, distantly noting that Iota had shimmied out from behind you and was darting to the opposite side of the room. 

“He will not bother you again,” Dottore finally said, sparing a look to the side as Iota approached from the side, this time with bandages. He eyed the boy curiously, wondering if this room was one of the places he fled to those rare times he was stuck in the palace and got overwhelmed by the amount of people. Iota turned his head away pointedly and Dottore just shook his head, taking the bandages and wrapping them neatly around your wrist and forearm. 

You didn’t respond to him and Dottore glanced up at you, waiting for you to say something. You looked away, Dottore bit back an irritated sigh, tying off the bandage and moving a bit closer to look at your face.

“Thought they just called you a doctor for the irony,” you snipped half-heartedly, keeping your eyes averted as his fingers grabbed your jaw, turning your head to the side to see just how deep Theta had cut you.

Dottore let out an amused puff of air. “They do,” he drawled, “but I’m usually presented as one to acquire more willing test subjects. I must at least know the basics.” 

You gave him a withering look from the corner of your eye, bottom lip pushed out. He was grateful for his mask hiding the way his gaze lingered on it, focusing back on the scratch marks. They weren’t too deep but he didn’t have an ointment with him to spread over them, so instead he just pressed the handkerchief to the skin, cleaning up the blood.

“What are they?” you asked, eyes steeled for an argument. 

Dottore sighed heavily, considering briefly trying to avoid the subject but you did not seem keen on letting this slide and he was not in the mood for an argument. He wanted to get this done and get out of your room as soon as possible, even if his body was betraying him by allowing his fingers to linger on your cheek as he wiped away the blood. 

“They are me.”

Concise and to the point, as he always was, Dottore waited for the explosion of questions and demands to come from you but you only stared at him, studying him. Again, Dottore was grateful for his mask because he did not like the way he felt beneath your gaze.

“How?” you finally questioned. 

“Experimentation,” Dottore said dryly, your eyes narrowed as if that was an obvious answer. His lip unconsciously pulled up into a smirk. “I was able to isolate and extract my consciousness at specific periods of my life after years of study into-”

“Irminsul,” you finished for him, voice little over a breath and eyes darting down to your forearm. 

Dottore’s lips pressed into a thin line, watching you carefully—he did not like that, or did he? A part of him was impressed that you’d managed to put it together so easily just from the little he said and the words that had been transcribed to you through the bond. But on the same note, he thought that the fact that the bond had given you enough words to so easily string together how he had gone about his research was unnerving. 

Not for the first time since the bond appeared, Dottore felt distinctly violated. 

“Yes,” he said slowly. “Study into Irminsul. All I had to do was create vessels for the consciousnesses after extracting them.”

“And they are… you?” 

You were looking at Kappa with a different expression now, Dottore couldn’t figure out what it was but it made him uncomfortable, vulnerable. There was a reason why he made sure to keep all of the younger segments far, far away from people. Dottore let his hand drop back to his lap, folding the handkerchief and placing it back in his pocket. 

“Yes.” His voice came out colder and sharper, and you caught the change in tone, looking up at him quickly with furrowed brows. “I’ll be taking them back to the labs.”

You didn’t look pleased, frowning as you looked down at Kappa, who was still fast asleep. Behind Dottore, Iota let out a noise of protest but Dottore only had to turn his head to the side to stop the boy from speaking his complaint out loud. 

“So what? You’re just going to leave again?” you asked harshly.

“Did you think I was going to stay?” he quipped back, sarcasm dripping from his words. “That you and the younger segments and I were just going to be one happy family?” 

To your credit, you didn’t look too perturbed by the harsh words but he knew it affected you, if the way your grip tightened on Kappa had anything to say about it.

“You can’t just keep me here,” you spoke through gritted teeth. “I’m not-”

“You’ll find that I can do whatever I want,” Dottore corrected, rising to his feet. 

You didn’t hesitate, shifting Kappa down to lay on the bed next to you as you moved forward, fingers wrapping around his wrist to hold him in place. A commendable effort, but all it would take was one quick snap of his wrist to free it from your hold…

But he did not snap away his wrist. As easy as it would have been, instead he just stood there, staring down at you, waiting for you to say whatever you wanted to say. He tensed as if to pull away but his body didn’t cooperate—he blamed it on the bond but he wasn’t so sure that was the case.

“I’m not done,” you said. “I have more questions.”

“Another time,” he dismissed, finally forcing himself to pull his wrist back. Again, he felt a strange void as soon as the pressure of your fingers was removed from him. “I’ve wasted enough time tonight.”

Wasted?

“Wasted?” you echoed his very thought, scoffing loudly before shaking your head. “You know what, I don’t really care. What I do care about is knowing what that energy was around Pantalone—what was that?”

Dottore looked at her steadily from beneath his mask. “That is none of your business,” he said coolly. “Do not go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong lest you find yourself a guest here forever.”

The look you gave him was nothing short of murderous. “As if I won’t be already,” you spat, rising to your feet to take a few steps closer to him after he moved away. Dottore remained rooted in place, looking down at you. “I will not be kept here like a caged animal.”

“Then maybe you should not act like one.”

“Excuse me?” Dottore’s words held no weight, but he did very much enjoy goading reactions out of you, watching as your face twisted in fury at the insult. “I came here for a reason, Doctor, and that reason was not to be imprisoned by you. I have information I need to find and one way or another, I will acquire it. You can either-”

“You will do as I say so long as you’re in this palace,” Dottore said, cutting you off by pinching your cheeks between his fingers and tilting your face up to look at him. “Just because we have a bond forced on us by Celestia does not make you untouchable, control that tongue of yours before it lashes at the wrong person. Once I get the information I want, I will consider getting you what you want. Then, we will never have to see each other again. Until then, you have reaped what you sowed and it is no one’s fault but your own that you were not adequately prepared for the consequences of your actions, do you understand?”

Just for a second, he watched as a helpless expression spread across your face, eyes glassy and lips pressed together tight as you stared up at him. His tongue itched to say something else but no words formed on it before you snapped your face out of his hold, looking away. 

“Get out.”

A part of him wanted to refuse just to be spiteful—was it spite? Or was it something else, that heavy feeling weighing at his chest? That was a question he was not ready to answer, so instead, he smiled thinly:

“Gladly.”

i promise they’re going to start warming up to each other soon more than just in their internal narration <.< soon as in very soon wait til you see the scene i have planned

RBS APPRECIATED!

[da-janela-lateral]

very curious as to what you mean by esper survivorship bias! there’s a couple things i’ve noticed that could be related (like how other than the obviously powerful teru, mob, ritsu the only child espers we see are the awakening lab kids whose powers are so limited that if they’re the baseline most espers would probably never find out they have powers at all) (or how other than the main 4 esper teens and the awakening lab kids and sort of takenaka the only psychics we see are adults that are part of claw) (sorry. my adhdemons)

FINALLY MORE EXCUSES TO TALK ABOUT MY HYPHOTESIS.

I first adressed it in this post, little time after I read some fics focusing on Teruki's relationship to Claw and started wondering about some stuff. After reading (part) of the World Domination Arc in the manga, I got more questions, which I'll explain here:

The Esper Survivorship Bias Theory

Contrary to the norm in works focused on the paranormal, in Mob Psycho 100 society overall doesn't care about espers. This is of course related to the main theme of "nobody is special" and the story's tendency for desconstructing shonen tropes, but it also implies that while rare, espers aren't seen as a big thing. This can be seen in the following details:

While describing Mob's powers, Inukawa treats them as only something unusual.

The Kageyama family, their friends and their acquaintances find Mob's powers ordinary.

Espers are a known phenomena (for an example, Mr. Asagiri looks for dozen of psychics on the start of the Mogami Arc).

Even when people don't believe on psychic powers, they don't insist much on this view after tiny proof (that is, powers are somehow beliavable).

Espers existing at all doesn't change how society works.

For that to happen, there must be a condition: the occurrence of psychic powers is common enough so that people acknowledge them AND usually don't mind their existence. They are like a weird, yet mundane fact.

This may contradict the canon's premise that psychic powers are extremely uncommon, but in the Seasoning City region alone we see several characters with them. Toichiro affirmed Claw has about 700 members and that he had hired international mercenaries, which in turn may mean there is a significant esper population out there. So why are there so few espers in-verse, they take years to meet people like them?

Simple. They aren't as extremely rare as people think. This is survivorship bias.

Most espers on canon are adults over 20 years old, and even a great part of these are members of Claw. The only psychic children we see are the main cast, the Awakening Lab kids and Takenaka. What a interesting coincidence that Claw too is 20 years old...

It's not that young espers are ultra uncommon nowadays, it's that as soon as they're obvious, Claw takes them.

This is not limited to powerful people, as the organization went after the Awakening Lab kids even though Claw either knew they had insignificant powers, or had no information on the level of their abilities at all. Any esper youth that enters their radar is a valid target.

Besides that, it's essential to remember Teruki is an exception to the rule. He survived being hunted down by Claw since childhood, but he also lived in dire conditions and was obsessed with being stronger than the criminals who went after him. Despite their powers, most esper children are normal. They wouldn't have an idea Claw existed. They wouldn't be prepared for a kidnapping attempt. And considering espers tend to feel socially alienated, lonely children have bigger chances to trust the Claw officials if they presented themselves as "someone who understood them".

In other words: espers aren't as rare as people believe. It's that as soon as they show their powers, Claw takes action. This is why there are so few characters under 18 who have psychic powers.

Final comments

Of course, many of the arguments I have mentioned could mean other things. MP100 has a pretty soft worldbuilding after all because psychic powers aren't the main focus, but rather a pretext for developing each character's perspective and inner turmoil, as well as the story's themes. Lot's of things are also played for humor and don't have real relevance. Furthermore, one could mention how the audience's view over MP100's world is limited to Mob's very uncommon life, and how some elements we've seen aren't the standard.

I'm just thinking a lot about the Claw targets' families. What did they know about the kidnappings? What did they do about them? How did the authorities investigate these cases? Have they found any closure? Have they connected the dots about the nature of the disappearances?

And what about the targets in question? How did their recruitments work? What they thought about what happened to them? Did they miss their loved ones? How many of them went on and kidnapped more kids? How many of them survived? Did they get to reunite with the people they loved and have a chance on a normal life?

Some food for thought.

[chaifootsteps]

saw someone point out something I should have realized before

stans keep excusing Stolas ignoring Blitzo's boundaries/protests as him having 'poor social skills'

but why does he have poor social skills? how is it even possible? he's a royal demon with legions at his disposal and a palace full of guards & servants

he doesn't like parties but he still goes to them and presumably his royal duties (what little there are of them) consist mostly of going places and talking to people

how is it possible he has bad social skills when a key tenant of being royal usually involves training specifically around interacting with other people??

this is probably, like most things, the result of Viv's lousy worldbuilding. we're two seasons deep and it's impossible to tell what being a Goetia actually means on the day to day.

the impression the show gives is that Stolas grew up alone (for no reason, how does this benefit the Goetia family to isolate one of their princes this much?) and would spend most days alone were it not for his daughter still living with him. what his routine even is day to day is unclear, he doesn't seem to have any consistent duties that take up his time so he just lounges around reading or doing basically what he feels like

the most we ever get to see of his duties is the harvest moon festival (which is only once a year) and him doing some kind of paperwork in the Look my way MV.

Viv probably wanted to make him look lonely and friendless but she's just made him look like a lazy layabout who's bad with people for no real reason and doesn't bother using his power or opportunities to improve himself even though there's nothing stopping him (seriously, he whines about being alone but can't bring himself to leave the house and meet people? even when the show is totally inconsistent about whether his being royalty even matters for interacting with others from episode to episode? and if it's as a result of his depression which he's medicating for, how did he keep finding the energy and motivation to harass Blitz into sleeping with him?)

I know I bring him up more than I should, but this is yet another point in Instagram Stolas's corner. The guy communicated like you'd expect a royal to have been meticulously trained to communicate, always polite and very precise. Series Stolas's day job, from what we've seen, has consisted of paperwork, attending the Harvest Moon Festival, and insulting his subjects.

A better writer would explore the fact that Stolas, despite thinking of himself as kind and lonely and tragically friendless, drives away potential friends with his callousness and insensitivity towards their feelings...and Stella, despite being an deeply embittered person, attends parties and tea parties, and is always shown to be surrounded by friends.

[regal-bones]

Hi, I just discovered your art through your swords, I am incredibly delighted on how good they look and how clean your animations are! But I can't help but notice there is an underlying lore going on and I want to ask if you have stuff of The Continent available to read. I love nothing more than other people's imaginary worlds and the lore and stories they made for it!

Hey !!! first of all thank u so much, that’s really sweet! And yes I do !! Sorry this took so long to answer I wanted to make a big master post :)

so first of all and as a little disclaimer, the bulk of this project is on hiatus while I work on my video game Last Sprout. (more info on that here!) But I’ve been adding little bits to it every now and then, and still been doing stuff like swordtember to flesh out the worldbuilding! Also a lot of this is quite old (some stuff from about 2020) so excuse if the art and writing is of,,, poorer quality than my recent stuff.

As an intro, I made a little animatic trailer to the series here!

if you want full on written chapters of writing, you can read:

Curated Curios Chapter 1 and 2, and the prologue Peregrine and the Starpainter (I also have a first draft of chapter 3 written which if you want to read feel free to message me, it’s just a lil rough around the edges!) A Map of the Deadlands a web novella with some animated artwork!

Then there’s other stuff! One of them is The Back Room. This is the earliest of all of the projects and has a lot of lore, as well as stuff like DnD stats! There’s a lot of pages so I’ll highlight my faves, but have an explore because there’s other stuff than what I’ve mentioned here!

The Back Room - Artefacts The Back Room - Map of the Continent The Back Room - Races The Back Room - Museum of the Continent (DnD One Shot)

Then there’s everything I have here on tumblr! For this very ask I went through and added the #curated curios tag to everything I’ve posted here on tumblr that’s from the curated curios universe! You can follow this link or the tag on this post to check it out! Most of the artwork and stuff for it I’ve shared here on tumblr!

so yeah! I hope you enjoy !!! This universe is very dear to me and I hope you have fun checking it out :} have a lovely day !!

[thatgirlonstage]

mermay prompt: JamiKali + gold?

I'm not entirely happy with the way I ended this one but if I keep picking at it I will run out of time to work on other prompts so I'm calling it good. Keep an eye on the Ao3 collection next year, I might put a revised version up once I've had longer to sit on it. I really like the worldbuilding concept I'm playing with, anyway :3

(also I hope you see this, nonny — sorry for taking most of the month to get to it!!!)

———

Mermaids cry pearls and their scales are made of gold.

Those are the kinds of myths that Jamil grows up hearing, circulating in whispers through the bazaar, repeated like a dreamy incantation by traders in their cups, posted in hashtags below visibly photoshopped images of supposed beachside treasures.

“If only they knew, huh Jamil?” Kalim giggles by his side, letting silk run over his hands like water. When his fingers lift away, there’s an embroidered pattern of fish leaping along the edge of the headscarf, flashing in the sunlight. Kalim’s smile is brighter than the pure silver of the thread, a searing thing, white teeth a slash in his brown skin. “I don’t think these people even believe mermaids really exist.”

Jamil bites down hard on the urge to tell him to shut up. Drawing any attention will only make Kalim’s remarks seem significant to anyone who already overheard them. He bites down so hard that his lip splits. He tastes iron. Kalim, brow furrowing, reaches up and swipes a thumb over Jamil’s mouth.

When mermaid blood is spilled on sand, it turns into rubies.

“Are you all right?” Kalim asks, popping his bloodied thumb back out of his mouth. “You’ve been so quiet today.” He spits a shard of something glittering and red into his palm, considers it, and discards it on the ground. A moment later, Jamil hears a muffled exclamation from behind them. He does not look back. Looking back will only draw attention. People exclaim in bazaars all the time.

“It’s too hot,” he says by way of excuse. “It’s making me tired.”

Kalim pokes him in the shoulder, a friendly reproach. “You should have said! I would’ve come on my own. It’s only the groceries.”

“Last time I let you go on your own, you left an entire frieze of the legend of Sinbad carved over the entrance of the fish merchant’s stall.”

Mermaids have sea silk for hair. I bet if you plucked a mermaid’s eyelashes they’d be made of saffron.

Kalim laughs, the sound high and bright and as bubbly as a stream. “I forgot about that! The poor man was so confused.” He trails just the edge of his pinky finger along a piece of pottery, and the mosaic pattern gains a thin golden outline. “I’m sorry I make you worry, but it’s just that your magic is so abundant, I’m overflowing all the time.” He leans up and presses his lips to Jamil’s cheek. “Take a little back, okay? It’ll help me behave.”

When a mermaid kisses you, forever after, every time you speak, gems will fall from your lips.

Jamil feels his own magic surge backward into his skin, electricity racing up and down his spine. It sits there, crouching in his nerves, making every hair on the back of his neck stand up, locked in his blood. He inhales sharply and lets the breath hiss back out between his teeth.

“Warn me when you’re about to do that,” he says. “It’s not exactly comfortable.”

“Oops.” Kalim looks contrite. “Sorry, I gave you back a little more than I meant to!” He reaches as if to take some of it again, but Jamil jerks his head away.

“It’s fine.” The magic pulls at his tendons, crackling with unreleased potential. He grits his teeth against the scraping, scrabbling, screaming need for release, the way it hits a wall at every turn. Kalim is at least no longer quietly turning every pebble he steps on into sea glass.

“Your magic really is just that potent,” Kalim tells him, settling back into his place next to Jamil, grin diamond-white in the afternoon sun. “I can make anything you want, Jamil.” He slides his hand into Jamil’s, interlocking their fingers. “Just ask. Whenever you want anything, just ask and it’s all yours.”

Jamil hopes the smile he gives in return looks less forced than it feels. He can’t bring himself to speak, to tell Kalim the truth. He only breathes and lets himself imagine the contact of their palms makes his magic trickle back into Kalim a little faster, that the pounding desperation in his skull to let the magic out of his skin is a little lessened, that the tightness of his jaw is due to sun and stress and hours spent with Kalim as company, and not a curse weaving its prohibition into his tongue and teeth, stopping any spell from passing his lips.

If someone asked Jamil Viper to tell them a story about mermaids, this is what he would have said:

It’s true, mermaids can make you rich beyond your wildest dreams.

But they can’t do it alone. They have to borrow your magic.

If you wish, you can promise them magic in return for jewels, for gold, for pearls, for anything your heart could desire.

So go to the river if you want, trail a finger in the water under the full moon, and send out a spark to let one of them know you want to talk.

But be careful.

Once you’ve made a pact with one it cannot be undone.

They will stay bound to your bloodline forever.

———

Mermay prompts are open until May 31st!

[duckiemimi]

i wonder if gege's biggest problem (likely bc of the push to prolong jjk) is that they just threw out the original storyline the second the gojo vs sukuna fights started. i mean, there were definitely problems with the ever expanding cast and spreading them all too thin still, but (as someone who's only loosely been following the leaks since a little after gojo's death) the entire story feels so meaningless now 😭 the build up for everything gojo wanted holds no meaning and i get that gege hates gojo for overshadowing the other characters but like⎯excuse my lack of knowledge about manga culture⎯gojo's been the main character ever since megumi was taken over. yuji's been sidelined for so long and even yuta⎯who's ridiculously powerful and the only special grade in his generation, i believe⎯not making a difference just leaves the story falling flat.

(also: i've never understood the whole push for gojo to be front and center just bc he's the most popular. the mc is *rarely* the most popular character in a manga⎯bakugou (and even sometimes todoroki) overshadowed deku so much in bnha but the story still managed to center deku as the main character. i think people give gege a little too much credit for this⎯it just feels like bad writing or an attempt at fanservice when they write gojo like *this* when they're clearly sick of him.)

(also x2: literally none of the characters have a purpose anymore and sukuna's just screwing around so there's no one with a strong enough narrative left.)

(also x3: shoko deserved better. but that's a whole other rant.)

i think that's possible actually, considering how well-anticipated (and prematurely hyped up) the gojo vs. sukuna battle was! and it was a long and drawn out battle, too, so i have a feeling that was done out of request from publishing (or a third party) rather than something gege actually wanted to linger on!

the culling games to me read like an exploration in worldbuilding. remember when kenjaku started talking to and dealing with world leaders and when the US army (failed to) intervene at one point? it seemed like gege was playing with the boundaries of the jjk universe and while it was messy and convoluted at times, it was still pretty enjoyable for me! it felt like a writer who still wanted to write. it's a shame that gege took on more than he could chew, because there were so many aspects that could've been built upon, even if it would've been inconsequential to the ending message of jjk.

this arc...felt like something owed. to who, i could only guess, but it doesn't read like something he was excited to write. ever since gojo got unsealed (another well-anticipated scene), things have become rather stale. and that's probably why we have an influx of polarizing scenes—to get us to keep reading. gojo being brought up constantly (even after his death) also seems like a request or a push from publishing (or a third party). like you said, it feels like fanservice. (which is so demeaning to a creator, especially if it's put above all else.) i think he's too tired (and now he's sick) to actually attempt to properly tie everything he wrote together, let alone do anything about characterization! which is just such a shame :')

[sugar-petals]

sub!𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷 💙𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚊𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝  (18+)

⇢ gentle femdom (n.) :: a variant of bdsm emphasizing affectionate play with a pliant sub rather than hard kinks, brat taming, sadism, or hierarchy.

pairing. pleaser!bangchan x femdom!reader 

WARNINGS. ⚠️ rated m, soft sub chris, light restraints, studio and car sex, mommy kink, pegging, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, frottage, shy chan, vanilla positions, lack of aftercare bc chan sleeps fast 😅, self-esteem issues, food play mention, established relationship 

★ wc. 3k

↳ [ // 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. ] a soft hc for for valentine’s 💌 following lee know’s version, more sub!skz worldbuilding! good boy chan agenda going strong here... truth be told, it’s always interesting to write leaders showing their true face. not sure if i’ll make this a complete series due to my standard high word counts; if there’s a member u absolutely want to read about take to the replies/asks, if multiple people chime in for someone i see what i can do! as for now, sub chan enthusiasts enjoy! 💛

read it on ao3 | 💋 masterlist 💋

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Fast asleep within a mere five minutes. Like an ice statue frozen for a thousand years. If this guy puts the strain of having sex on top of his already endless to-do list, he’s gonna doze off in Guinness World record time some day. In his vocabulary, what even is aftercare? He’s like don’t worry mate, I’m fine, maybe a warm glass of water, now good nig—zzZ.

When you didn’t know each other so well yet, you planned to run him a nice bath and all, but reality hit with Chan entering the dream land after getting a spanking. So, in the end, aftercare is just handing him a pillow and toweling him down while he’s already in the twilight zone. See you tomorrow! Reducing the craziness of sex doesn’t really make him stay awake, nor do you want him to — any sleep is good sleep for Chan, anyway. If sex exhaustion is his justification for sleep rather than editing another whole damn album, why not. Play with you is his best excuse to nap.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Chan likes his arms and wow-factor shoulders generally, but it’s not limited to them. Some days, he’s way happier with something else (proud of leg day, let’s go). On other days, he doesn’t like anything and tries to ignore that. Every mirror an enemy. The next day, he feels better about something else entirely. Stray Kids going through so many bold outfits and intricate stylings has sort of confused him about how he naturally looks sometimes. Chan is not content with his bare face, but feels better after you pepper it with kisses.

When it comes to you, he’d never say a thing about a preference. You won't be able to tell where Chan’s mind goes the most, and it generally doesn’t hyperfocus on one body part anyway. Does he like legs best, hips, hands, back, your chest? No one knows. All he says is, „I really like your figure“ — and that’s all. Of course he thinks his domme is hot as fuck, in fact, he thinks she fucking slays. He’s just a gentleman about it.

You like his eyebrows and curly bangs a lot. In your eyes, he has a really handsome and memorable face to begin with (that eyeshadow game makes it even better, holy cow). Even classically handsome, even if he doesn’t really believe it. You saying „Damn you look good!“ when he puts on a tight outfit that accentuates his body shape, it really flatters him to the core. You like his sexy face chains and accessories, chokers galore, and virtually any type of harness fitted all across his torso or legs. Chan is a wet BDSM dream come true and he doesn’t even realize it, does he.

c= cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Actually not that into it. His own cum, I mean. Chan usually forgets to rub one out even when he feels a little twitch while working. Too focused. He ignores his libido often. Same idea extends to cumming inside you as far as vanilla is concerned. Chan knows it’s awkward to clean it all out. He’d rather wear protection and release on his own stomach, then quickly get rid of it if he’s not dozing already.

He blushes hearing you talk dirty about semen, but the real thing? Chris isn’t obsessed like some other people would be. It’s a necessary evil to him, and just another thing bodies do. His orgasms tend to underwhelm him or disappoint no matter what he does, he’s not as confident pushing himself to a maximum of pleasure by himself. He depends a lot on you to chase a high sometimes, which makes him feel deficient. You notice that he beats himself up and suggest some more gentle femdom forms of sex that focus more on sensuality and less adrenaline. Works way better for him. Besides modeling harnesses like a pro, Chan is actually a die-hard soft sub.

On the other hand… Duality. Selfless Chan is totally focused on having you completely soaked at his very creative fingertips. Cum play 5000. He’s a musician. And producer. And dancer. And singer. And rapper. Safe to say that fella has rhythm.

And: Don’t worry. He’s not the type to edge and finger you recklessly. Chan isn’t brutal, nor is he punishing. Always the exact opposite. Pleasing, pleasing, pleasing. His submissive tendencies show almost everywhere. The most daring thing he’d do is tease you with a bright smile, which probably makes you wanna bust a nut on the same spot, ain’t it so. You Chan hard stan, you. He constantly asks for feedback and wants your own hands to do it with him so he can learn: That good boy. How that tiny spot of yours can make your whole body feel so electric is quite astounding to him. Getting you off and making you laugh? His favorite downtime.

d = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Other people probably assume his ultimate kink and darkest fantasy would be something like `Chan being selfish and cruel for once´. Just doing something because he craves it. Or something like topping you for fun, large and in charge, leader mode. Little did they know that Chan’s most secret wish is you finally meeting his parents for an evening of barbecue. Ain’t he typical.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

More than you think, less than you assume. He’s a lovely Libra. The golden middle of everything is true for him. He’s not dared to directly approach any crush he had, but yes, always prompting a shy and nervous response, he’s the one who’s been approached quite a couple times. By a handful of dominants who saw right through him, too, yes. A bit of flirting over some dinner did went down, but only a dozen dates turned into some tentative, makeshift sexual activity at their place. Obviously not the dorm, he’d never do that. He’s not Hwang Hyunjin getting pegged — next to Lee Know, gaming — by every girl in a ten-mile radius.

Chan also received an Inkigayo sandwich and had a genuinely lovely time. It went on for two months until it got a bit awkward. All in good spirits, though. Because seriously. Caring as he is, and always with the other person’s well-being in mind, how could Chan ruin a breakup. If there is a split, the transition period to a new chapter will be seamless, not heartbreaking. A few tears will fall, the chest is heavy, but he’s not gonna engage in a war of roses and lose face. He does have complaints, but he’s no mean guy. Even when he has a reason to accuse an ex, he will swallow it. The shit he’s bottled up. Chan will feel burdened, down for quite some days, but focus on moving on properly when it’s possible.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

Undecided. Doesn’t want your head too far away nor too close. He’s afraid of accidents, hurting your face somehow, he’s a little paranoid. A bit of movement distance is good for soft missionary, it can be bridged by kissing. Chan uses his arms to prop himself up, gyrating so fucking heavenly, and you can grab his ass. All the praise you’ll shower him with. You’ll often be having sex in a back hug, that’s a good one, too. Especially seated, with Chan leaning forward a little to meet your spine with his chest. All you see is legs legs legs twitching under you, damn good view.

Girl on top, however, occupies both of your minds all the time. That’s where you feel at home. Comfortable for both of you, Chan can be more passive, you active. Your bed or couch needs lots of pillows, though, it’s too empty and scary for him otherwise. The floor is off limits, not cozy enough, you agree. You’re a cozy couple. Chan draped over a hard surface on his back, naked, is a sexy as fuck image in your head, but the reality is not snuggly and warm enough.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Total goofball, you love the guy’s sexy time humor. His crinkly eyes ad triangle-shaped dimples (yes they’re literally like that) always alleviate the moment and bridge an awkward silence or pause. Chan has a soft spot for your outrageous jokes, too. Your every word has him almost hanging by a thread so to speak, he’s a very active listener. Dirty talk and conversation absolutely dominate your sex life, silent sexy time is a natural, mutually agreed upon no-go.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Clean pits, clean everything. He’s pretty economical with it. Adapts to your wishes, puts lots of effort in. If it’s gotta be a hairy situation, the rules are even stricter, even if he sometimes forgets to maintain it, which makes Chan feel terribly sorry. „Won’t happen again! Oh geez.“ Uneven hairs piss him off, he’s the legend of trimming everything in place.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Can’t stay serious and focused for two seconds. Says a cheesy thing as soon as you even blink.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Too busy with his beautiful fingers between your labia to think about himself. As always: Chan gives and gives and gives without ever taking. When you’re driving to the gym and he takes the passenger seat, prepare for masturbation galore — all while he doesn’t touch himself one bit. You reward him with a little improvised frottage with his upright dick crushed against your ass later on the backseat. Both of you in your underwear: Because it’s hotter. Chan comes pretty fast, his cock is so sensitive to being squeezed by you. Turn around while you grind on him because his surprised facial expressions are just glorious. His tight body in his sports clothing feels so damn good, you can do this all day long.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

Feeding each other delicious sweets and random food bits. He’s totally enamored with this. You can be silly together, carefree, he can be your cutest little one. Not entirely in an age play sense, more as a casual endearment.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

So, besides the car and bed. His production studio chair is surprisingly not the way to go. Too narrow, moves around too much, spins at every damn movement. Studio couch is more like it. The amount of times you’ve made out on there, the members would so judge him for being thirsty. But you see the practical aspect. Increased support, decently elastic if not a little bouncy, and a comfortable surface that’s easy to clean for him. It’s not like Chan keeps typing and producing with you on his lap at the table. Come on, he focuses on you. When you sit next to him or on him casually to see what he’s working on, sure, he will go on as usual though. But it’s often him who wants to sit on your lap to get pampered, or between your legs non-sexually if he’s too heavy for you. At home, any spot will do, long as it has a pillow fort.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Affection and courtesy. Compared to some other members, say Felix, Chan doesn’t submit to try stuff out and to chase a kinky curiosity. The principle and chivalry counts for him instead. Being a domme pleaser and body worship advocate 5000 is what keeps Chan coming back for more. Stress relief is a side effect, pun intended.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Hard domming you. He has leader energy on stage, but privately, mercurial goofball he is, it just doesn’t suit him. Chan would never make you scream or sob, and he can’t use a whip on your ass either. That image is so strange to both of you. Although he matches the aesthetic of a hard dom when he’s dressed up like one, face chain wolf gang and all, actually doing all this stuff creeps him out. He recoils at the thought of smacking you roughly or doling out a harsh anal punishment. Raw and hateful sex is simply not his schtick. Again, he’s Hyunjin’s opposite on the submission scale: Mister Hwang is very open to being demolished in a crazy hate fuck by any dominant daring enough. That’s where smacking and violently punishing is very welcome. Chan, he prefers a forehead kiss to make him squeal.

Chan would be all shifty on his feed and be confused constantly if he had to dominate in a cold and relentless way. Being a soft dom is all he could muster, which would simply wind up him service subbing in a covert way — no one’s surprised. And the major obstacle is, Chan simply cannot switch off his charm. He just can’t. It’s in his tone of voice all the time. The only exception happens when he reprimands the members for not taking something seriously enough, but well — he doesn’t have to pull that voice on you. You know the stakes of this relationship and meet him with a logical mindset. You take topping him very seriously like a fucking pro, in fact. Chan got nothing on you, he thinks he’d look like an amateur.

If we’re going there at all: Chan can’t stand the whole kink of say, his girl age regressing to her toddler days, diapers and everything. He’d be like what… It’s too much for him, and his whole Stray Kids’ father role doesn’t have to be his entire identity. Chan appreciates a sexual slash romantic partner who is level-headed and talks to him on equal grounds. He doesn’t want someone tugging at his sleeve all the time talking in a baby voice, he prefers more mature flirting and interactions. He’s the one getting shy, his domme is the wise one. So: No infantilizing his girlfriend. They’re called Stray Kids and not Stray Adults, so he already fosters the whole group as a full-time job — back at home, he’s looking for an authority instead.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Oh shit, here they come. Those beautiful, pinkish, big and juicy lips. They’re wonderful and shapely, just right, so puckered. It’s the ace up his sleeve! You’ll grind the chapstick off of `em at every opportunity. He’ll quickly get fantastic at giving head, the eye contact is always a stunner. The lips are usually outclassing his tongue, though you should never underestimate someone who works a mic for a living.

His consistency… I swear. Completely deprioritizes receiving. He’s clumsy with eating you out in the first month of dating, hence why he wants to improve. Although it irks him that he’s not a natural talent, your comforting words will help him. „Not everyone can be born as Hwang Hyunjin.“ — „So true, bestie. Or Felix, too.“ He embraces his beginner mindset and hey, come on: That he tries so hard is worth ten sex toys, the effort and dedication counts. Like he can suck on a dildo in no time. Not ready for the strap yet, but that’s ok. His progress tends to be astounding, he remembers his mishaps and strengths very well. Nerdy Chan writes down what he should keep in mind, that’s a hell of a man right here.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Nothing subspace-inducing, we’re keeping it midrange speed here. Though, remember this guy is a literal sports student, athlete, multi talent. He can pull off anything you wish for, you just gotta ask. Nevertheless, he’s too sweet to go and say „let’s just fuck like rabbits, 3, 2, 1, go!“ — some other certain members are more fond of that. Lee Know, Hyunjin, Han, to name the holy trinity of dick destruction. They just wanna get wrecked. CBT and everything. Chan loves pleasure and passion more than ending up ruined, his workload does that for him.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yep. Pretty boy likes those. Big fan. Any day. Treats the two of you with cooking afterwards.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Sexually? Not at all. Besides a little fun and games (read: flirting and pillow fights), he’s beyond mellow. Bangchan is the last person on earth to demand that you amp up your dominatrix game to do something questionable. As in, to experiment with even more extreme practices, electro play, knife play, sounding, that stuff. Or to put on specific, highly sexualized outfits. Again, that would contradict your coziness at home.

He’s not a fan of pushing his dominant to their limit, or having a stake in their appearance whatsoever. You’re not there for his appetite, because he’s the snack. As is good practice, he coordinates a sexual scene together with you, and can make cute wink-wink suggestions: But they’re literally harmless. Such as, „maybe… tie my hands with a ribbon or something?“, and it’s all in an open-ended question format just like that. It’s up to you to allow it or not.

In other words: Bangchan’s inner power bottom is what? Non-existent. Which differs wildly from some other members. Han would totally beg you to slap the shit out of him just so he can experience a shock of adrenaline. Bratty Felix would tease his domme with his ass until she tames him with pinches, clamps, and squeezing. Chan would never even consider asking to be fucking wrestled. It’s 100% you who suggests kinks that carry more danger, like heavy chains with collars, or using a Sybian on him, although that’s not risky from a pro’s perspective. He takes the backseat and will most definitely not provoke any trouble or unsafe etiquette willingly.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He took ballet classes. All you need to know. Strength and tension and discipline are words not unfamiliar to him. His dick won’t last long, but the rest of his body will: Unless he danced like crazy that day. Which means time for spoiling and caressing him, talking him through, tucking him into bed. No hard domination please.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Bondage rope, yes. Red lights was right, he’s a rope bunny. Other particular toys no… with some room for experimenting sometimes. But he’s not a crazy toy collector, one quality vibrating aid to get you off is worth a 100 random items that he’d buys just to buy them. So, no to that. He’s particular and looks for what really fits the two of you. Strap-on experiments are fine, he quite likes to take it on all fours until one of you cramps. You’re not powering through, but that one’s a long and prep-heavy session. Blowing his back out is probably a bad idea, going slow and steady with lots of reassurance works way better.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

Chan’s ‚explanation voice‘ and constant questions can drag out foreplay for half an hour. By any means: The Chansplaining needs to find it’s due end. You get down to business by just unzipping his damn pants. A call to inspect your sexy sub is the perfect shortcut, admittedly just to see his thick package. „Take your cock out, honey. Let me take a good look at it.“ — instantly flustered Chan is putty in your hands.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

„Yes, mommy!“ — that’s medium loud. Can be more silent, too, but never not super breathy. Drastic spikes in volume, not so much. It’s a constant moaning. Though, I might be understating this, the whole group has a very high benchmark for volume. 80% of Stray Kids are fucking screamers.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Chan talks about how much he loves having sex with you all while he’s fast sleep constantly. Babbling in his dreams is not uncommon, the members seem to be on his mind a lot unsurprisingly, but this one stands out to you.

x = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

What he’s got in his sweatpants is like a Monsta X song. I don’t know what else to liken it to. Thing is, he’s not working with a whopping 10 inches. Who the hell carries that. He’s in a comfortable but aesthetically pleasing upper midrange, and really not too awkwardly long at all. It absolutely wouldn’t suit him. Girth and full balls is where it’s at. Also: Big ass alert. Your designated smack target and stress ball. You’re not surprised that Lino acts the way he does given how um cheeky the members are. Chan’s has such a nice curve, fuck.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s not Felix going „Lemme suck your tiddies real quick“ at every opportunity. Chan is more like „Okay, can I…?“ And he always ends up surprised how easily he gets going. It’s nothing when compared to his awkward jack-off sessions at work. You know what he’s capable of with one glance. Chan is a sensualist. Someone so sporty knows how to get their blood pumping. And: He’s channeled a fuck ton of his sexual energy into dance and his ten thousand other physical talents. You know precisely how to train him to get the desired results.

z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

You can use a damn stopwatch. He’s gone, ciao, bye, hasta luego, see you soon. In your arms, looking as angelic as ever. At the end of the day, Chan’s rapid deep sleep is pretty cute. This sub is a little innocent cherub. He’s in good hands with you.

read it on ao3

related posts: 

sub!idols m.list ♡

lee know alphabet version

sub!skz orgasm faces/bondage scenario 

sub!hyunjin oneshot | sub!felix oneshot

💕 likes, rbs, comments v much appreciated, let’s talk 💕

© 2017-2023 sugar-petals. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed. all depictions are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.

[mental7anguish]

I would like to know mroe about that beaststars tadc au please

The basic set up is that they all go to college in varying years

1st year — Jax, zooble

2nd year — gangle, pomni, bubble

3rd year — ragatha

It’s kind of zooble and pomni centric at first with zooble sharing a dorm with her after pomnis last roommate went missing (they were a herbivore). They’re also forced to be around each other almost all schoolday because of zooble being a hybrid and other factors making the school force them to have a 'guardian' (they’re trying to seem progressive and don’t want to get any bad rep), so basically forcing pomni to be a caretaker for a person who doesn’t want or need one.

They are not happy and cannot stand each other at first

The cast meet each other by having all joined a new circus club by Caine, that outside of customes has almost nothing to do with circuses lol, it’s more of an theater club but clowns. Like in the show he comes up with acts and/or adventures for them to do, where his intentions are to teach teamwork or whatever excuse he came up with to create it. The crew mostly joined because they get free stuff from it.

The story is undercooked still, because at first I loved the worldbuilding in beastars and just thought the craziness of it was fitting for tadc. I do have characteristics and dynamics in my head, like pomni having trouble with taking control of her carnivorous instincts while ragatha doesn’t have any herbivorous instincts at all, or Jax and zooble being frenemies who somehow almost always find each other in the same place and have matching pendants (zooble around their neck and Jax on his ear)

Kinger is probably a teacher, I’d imagine that he would teach something related to bugs. I also have some ideas for the abstracted, but you’ll just have to wait to find out if I flesh it out bc I think this is long enough already haha. This au will definitely include some beastars craziness, don’t worry.

Lastly I’m just gonna make a list of the character species:

–pomni: cat, long–haired Scottish fold, but shaves fur short

–Jax: European hare + Flemish giant rabbit hybrid, the latter of which is mostly just the height

–Ragatha: Dorset horn sheep

–Gangle: Malay weasel

–Zooble: Hybrid, dog + bird + deer (don’t rlly have any specific species)

–Kinger: lion

– Kaufmo: also a cat

–bubble: Thresher shark (Ik in context this doesn’t make sense, but it’s my au so I’m gonna have fun with it)

– Caine: genuinely have no idea, I need suggestions please

So yea, I hope this gives more insight! This au also dips a little into ships, which hopefully people won’t mind.

[27dragons]

New Year Countdown: Dec 21

You know what I really love? An arranged marriage fic. It's just. So good. So have some Dreamling arranged marriage. Don't try to make sense of the worldbuilding,; if I let myself think about it for more than 2 minutes I was going to spend three hours on the background and forget to actually write something useable.

Dec 21 - Dreamling - Arranged Marriage - Fairy lights

Dream ducked around a corner, away from the masses of guests his parents had found it necessary to invite to the wedding. They all wanted to congratulate him, and he was having a harder and harder time not responding with a demand that they produce some evidence that he was, in fact, fortunate.

An arranged marriage, in this day and age!

He’d known better than to argue with his father about it, though, so he’d had as little to do with the entire thing as he could get away with. He’d only met his new husband for the first time the previous afternoon, at the rehearsal. Dream had contrived to sit at the far end of the table from the man at the dinner, and then excused himself to his rooms immediately after the main course.

But he hadn’t been able to avoid the wedding itself, of course. He could only hope that his parents interpreted his flushed face as a new spouse’s excitement and not the towering fury he was suppressing.

The man was attractive enough, Dream had to concede that. But a handsome face could overlay any number of flaws -- only consider Desire, who was as spiteful as they were elegant.

Dream had no wish to learn Robert Gadling’s opinions of the match, or what he expected of Dream and their marriage, or even if they had a single thing in common. This entire thing was a farce, and Dream only wanted to go home and be left alone to mourn his life of contentment and books.

No one had noticed him missing yet. Or if they had, they assumed he’d just ducked off to the restroom. Maybe he could escape for an hour.

The hallway led away from the reception, ending in a set of double doors that overlooked a garden.

The garden was empty, it being entirely too cold for strolling outdoors, but it was decorated with fairy lights in case someone might want to look out a window.

Despite Dream’s feelings about the entire situation, the lights were pretty. He pushed through the doors and stepped out into the garden.

The frozen air was bracing; he drew a deep breath, feeling the cold burn in his lungs, then let it out again and watched the misty puff of condensation swirl up into the night. When the last wisps of his breath had disappeared, he began to walk, the twinkling lights filling his vision.

Halfway down the garden, he could no longer hear the noise of the reception, and he felt a fraction of tension ease from his shoulders. There was a bench there, under a cherry tree that was probably lovely in the spring, but at the moment was just a spread of bare branches clawing at the sky.

Dream sat, looking up through those branches at the lights and the stars.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there. Long enough for the last of the residual warmth to have seeped away from his suit coat by the time someone said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone else was out here.”

Dream blinked the stars from his eyes and turned to see-- Well, of course it was Gadling, wasn’t it? He turned his face back up to the sky. “Were you looking for me?”

“No,” Gadling said. “I try not to push in where I’m not wanted. I’ll leave now, if you like, only -- you look a bit chilled. Can I offer you my coat?”

Dream started to refuse, then realized his teeth were on the edge of chattering. “Thank you.”

When Gadling handed it over, it was still radiating the man’s own heat. Dream pulled it around his shoulders. “You may stay.”

He hadn’t intended it to come out so imperious, but Gadling merely smiled and sat at the other end of the bench. “I caught a glimpse of the lights and I wanted to come out and see them. They’re pretty.”

Dream glanced at his husband sidelong. “Yes, Mr. Gadling,” he agreed quietly. “They are.”

“Maybe,” Gadling added, “we can have something like this in our house?”

“That would be nice,” Dream said.

Gadling smiled a little. It was a small smile, but it creased lines by his eyes that suggested he smiled and laughed often.

That might be good, Dream thought. There wasn’t much laughter in his present life.

“And perhaps eventually,” Gadling continued, eyes fixed on the lights and not on Dream, “you will consent to call me Hob, like my friends do.”

“Are we to be friends, Mr. Gadling?”

Gadling’s smile faded, and he looked sad, a little. Wistful, perhaps. Dream wasn’t particularly adept at reading people, but Gadling’s eyes were gentle, perhaps even kind. “I would like that,” Gadling said. “If you should find me worthy of such an honor.”

Dream was still furious that he’d been pressed into this marriage, of course.

But perhaps... Perhaps he was not angry with Robert Gadling.

[devizakura]

BETTY LOU + PENNYLOU MASTERPOST

Important info:

BETTY LOU REF SHEET: [CURRENT] [OLD]

HUMAN BETTY DESIGN

CANON EVENTS AND FANON CONSEQUENCES - a useful rundown of the pre-established Hazbin lore and filling in the gaps for things left currently unsaid.

HEAVEN WORLDBUILDING - MONEY

BETTY LOU HAS ADHD

BETTY'S CLOSET TOUR: [2+3]

Chronological story:

🩵 MEET-CUTE 🩵

[main story comic] THE BEGINNINGS

[Part 1]

[Part 2]

💚 FRIENDSHIP 💚

[side story illustration] SLEEPOVER

[main story comic] OFF MY CHEST

[side story illustration + text] GIFT

💛 ONE-SIDED CRUSH 💛

[main story comic] GESTURES BIG AND SMALL

[Part 1]

[Part 2]

[Part 3]

[Part 4]

[EPILOGUE]

[main story comic] MOVING ON

[main story comic] A SMALL SNAKEY PROBLEM

[Part 1]

[EPILOGUE]

🧡 CRUSH RECIPROCATED 🧡

[main story illustration] RENOVATIONS

[main story comic] OPERATION: DATE

[Part 1]

[Part 2]

[Part 3]

[Part 4]

[main story comic] FIRST DATE

[Part 1]

[Part 2]

[Part 3]

[EPILOGUE]

❤️ RELATIONSHIP ❤️

[main story comic] COUPLE QUESTIONS

[main story short comic] DOZING OFF

[side story comic] BEACH EPISODE

[main story comic] A LITTLE CHANGE

[main story comic] CUDDLES

[side story comic] NO INSTRUCTION

[side story comic] NOT STRONG ENOUGH?

[main story comic] FISH OUT OF WATER

[Part 1]

[Part 2]

[Part 3]

[Part 4]

[Part 5]

Hijinks:

Somewhat important events that don't really have a set place in the timeline. Some might be moved to the chronological story list if their placement becomes more defined over time.

💚 FRIENDSHIP 💚

[short comic] THE TEA DEBACLE

💛ONE-SIDED CRUSH 💛

[short comic] THE ONE TIME PENTIOUS TRIED BOBA AND REGRETTED IT

❤️ RELATIONSHIP ❤️

[short comic] BETTY MAKING CLOTHES FOR PENTIOUS (❗AFTER Beach Episode)

[short comic] NAKEY SNAKEY

Asks and fun facts:

Do Betty and Pentious talk about their human lives?

3 Betty fun facts

Who's the "excuse me, they asked for no pickles!" type?

Will the story contain angst?

Insignificant doodles not included, but you can see them under the appropriate tags!

[midnight-in-town]

Ten reasons to read Gokurakugai

Heyyy! Here I am again, with a brand new monthly manga series for you guys! I've been reading it for a few months now so, if you enjoy Ao no Exorcist and also Kyokai no Kanata, please dive into the district of Gokurakugai with me...

and follow the adventures of Alma and Tao! :D

Anyway, here are my ten reasons:

1) Tao, the legend.

Beautiful and jaded, 10/10 started reading because of h e r. Also she's 100% queer, I will fight you on this and her design slayyyy, so she can stomp all over me whenever and I will thank her for it.

Yep. Love Tao.

2) Alma, nickname: Al. 100% cinnamon roll who could kill you

3) their cool partnership

4) their mom and dad ahem I mean their bosses

Yoki (can I pet him)

and Dara (i'm in love with her too)

5) their cute efficient little sister coworker, Nei

(excuse me but Yoki and Dara really are everyone's parents, you can't change my mind)

God I'm so jealous

6) Tatsuomi, the cringe informant but who's got cool piercings so I let it slide for now

honestly, he makes me laugh xDD

7) The worldbuilding

8) the villains

:)))) heh, read to find out more about them !

9) the main theme is (probably) family-oriented

vs

see ? i was right about Yoki and Dara being the parents

10) the plot

100% your usual shonen series so far, but it only has 10 chapters for now and I already have high hopes for it !!

So what do you say ?!

Have fun if you're reading ! (^3^)/

[rileys-battlecats]

How difficult was it to create a whole another clan, and do you have any tips for those wanting to start? I've always been wanting to make one but honestly my worldbuilding skills are not that great and procrastination levels are high😿

Honestly I never really set out to make an entire clan! It started with just a little handful of OCs, and then it just sort of.... expanded on its own HAHA

My advice would be to start small! I started by focusing on a little handful of characters, really only fleshing out two of them (mudpaw and wrentail), and then branching out from there based on their relationships. Mudpaw needed peers, so the other apprentices were designed and eventually their personalities were developed. Then those apprentices needed mentors, and needed dynamics with those mentors, and then the mentors needed dynamics with each other, and at that point I had so many cats it was just logical to design a leader, deputy, and med cat! And then I just designed a few background characters to fill in some spaces (sometimes reusing old designs I'd made but hadn't used for anything), and then I had an entire clan!

It definitely helps that I LOVE designing cat characters, it's actually so fun for me HAHA. Any excuse to make up a new kitty cat is good enough for me :P

The worldbuilding for the clan was built mostly from what I needed it to be for the characters/story! I've been putting it together piecemeal for quite a long time. Don't feel pressured to figure everything out all at once! I left a lot of blank spaces in the clan's history/culture in the beginning; I only really started filling it out over time and with a lot of help brainstorming from the people leaving their questions and thoughts on this blog! Even now, I still sometimes have new ideas that I want to integrate into the clan's lore

My biggest tip is to just have fun with it! Use concepts that are cool to you, make stories that YOU love, and don't worry about making it appealing to other people. They're your OCs, they're there for you to have fun with! Don't worry about making everything cohesive and finished all at once, you can make things and develop them in little bite-sized bits, then just put them together whenever you want!

A more concrete tip is to think about what little pieces of clan culture affect the characters and their thoughts/feelings/relationships! For instance, I have one of Micaclan's most important traits being that they are deeply insular as a group; this means that outsiders are treated with suspicion, but it also means that they care about their clanmates immensely. Those considered to be part of the "in-group" are met with support, love, and loyalty. So, anything or anyone that breaks from this loyalty is treated very harshly (ex. Possum leaving the clan was seen as a very serious betrayal). This insular trait affects how the clan treats Mudpaw (a perceived outsider), it affects how the clan treats their kits (they all share responsibility for each kitten equally/"it takes a village" approach), and it affects how the clan sees its individual members' shortcomings (ex. Wrentail being seen as a harsh mentor, sure, but ultimately believing him to be a good cat; they can't really conceive one of their own as being in the wrong without some serious proof).

Another tip is to include fun little details that might not seem important to a story, but still add a little bit of flavor to the world! Micaclan values storytelling, and Wrentail was one of their best storytellers. The elder Snaptail keeps clan history alive by imparting old stories to each new generation. The clan teaches their kits to swim at a young age, due to their history of losing cats to a flood and now living close to water. The clan doesn't have frequent access to Starclan, because their holy place is dangerous to approach. The clan's healers meet with Starclan each half moon only symbolically, by traveling to their mountain's peak to stargaze. Little details like that can do a lot to make the clan feel more alive!

I know this is sort of an eclectic mess as far as tips/advice goes, but I hope it helps!!

[lesbianambermoon]

i just finished writing out all of the little bio blurbs for my OCs and their world, so i'm putting them here because i want you to ASK ME ABOUT THEM!!! send anything in my inbox related to them! i want an excuse to yap about them more because i miss them. here's their folder on my TH

[shelleysmary]

OMg your post about the TROP haters. A lot of people don't seem to remember that several actors SUED New Line because they used the actors' likeness to make merch without compensating them. It's so weird to be acting as if any of these companies were ever ethical to begin with. People are also way too forgiving of PJ&Co for the joke of the Hobbit movies. It's not all WB's fault that those films were trash and to forgive PJ of some of his creative choices (like those CGI wargs that he actually approved of) is ridiculous.

listen..... i feel like i'm removed enough from the pj trilogies at this point to forgive all their foibles. they've been around long enough for me to accept them, and i find even the twilight-looking cgi wargs rather charming at this point. but that's the thing!!! the mere-exposure effect means that familiarity often leads to liking a thing better. the problem arises when certain fans forget that this is how the whole thing started. i genuinely believe that if trop can stick the landing and deliver four good—and i do mean good, not life-changing, i'm talking borderline decent (remember the hobbit)—seasons that improve on the first, in 8-10 years people will change their tune and remember it fondly, much like how we've all decided the hobbit is pretty okay, actually. it's not perfect, but we've accepted it into our headcanons and it has details we fully embrace and have integrated into our little store of tolkien jewels. that's why i contend that tolkien fans will always move on and take umbrage with the new thing. in part, i think it's the nature of the thing: tolkien himself left gaps and made so many changes throughout the years and from one draft to the next, and fans have projected their preferences onto them. that is the beauty of middle-earth!! for all that pj was accused of trying to make the hobbit his cash cow, j.d. and patrick are now getting accused of the same. no doubt there'll be fans who hate the hunt for gollum for that very same reason, but that doesn't change the fact that if any fictional world is made for this kind of expansive worldbuilding, it's tolkien's!

i understand that we're all passionate about middle-earth and we want things done "properly," but guys... your sauron is showing. sometimes we have to sit down and realize that "the way i imagined it" isn't always going to be what we see onscreen. the books will always be there! fanworks that align with our personal idea of what we wanted to see will always be there! that doesn't mean we can't be critical and expect quality from the shows and films we watch, but oftentimes with trop "this is a narrative flaw" and "this goes against my preference" get so confused. and people get triggered because they care about the world so much, but that doesn't excuse rudeness or cruelty or straight-up attacking those who disagree.

forgetting the journey we've all taken with the pj films is a mistake. so much unpleasantness within the tolkien fandom could be fixed with a little more patience, a little more wisdom, a little more grace. which. y'know. if you love these books... it's kind of a central theme. unless what you're really into is the cold hard mechanics of the worldbuilding and the power fantasy of the one ring.

this is just my personal opinion, but if the effect lotr has on you is to make you a worse person on the internet? touch grass. do a reread.