#because of these new medications I have so I just wanted simple coloring

[creamecream]

“There was this girl who was broken by the world, ‘cause every day at school they’d push and shove her,

But she had a plan,

One day she would get her revenge, and those cheerleaders and jocks would be six feet under,

But behind those angel eyes lies a devilish surprise,

The prom queen has killed for her crown,

Every boy and girl she seeks never comes back in one piece,

So be careful when she tries to ask you out,

She’s a motherfucking killer queen,

A psychopath at seventeen,

A beauty in a blood-stained dress,

She’ll fill your heart with kerosene and light you up ‘til you can’t breathe,

If you break her heart, you just might lose your head,”

[tighnarisfavourite]

❀ poison in my mind, dreaming ‘bout you. ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

tighnari x fem!reader

tighnari has been feeling poisoned lately, poisoned by you. experiencing feelings he had never felt before.

word count : 1113

❀ It felt like the most intoxicating feeling in the world as if he had been poisoned by those pesky fungi—poison flowing throughout him, washing over him completely. Tighnari’s emotions became more and more unstable, day by day, feeling himself weaken.

His pulse quickened, those sickening feelings he was trying to keep hidden within him rising to the surface every time he saw you, even his ears betraying him as they always stood up straight to the sight of you.

It was like an endless fever, one that didn’t pass with rest and medication. But it was frequently there when you were with him. A rosy color always seemed to creep up to his cheeks, increasing his body temperature.

Don’t even get him started on when you would put your hand up to his forehead to feel it, feeling the heat he managed to achieve in his face from you. Whenever you would ask, “Are you feeling unwell, Tighnari? It seems as if you have a fever... we should probably head back to Gandharva Ville so you can get some rest.” But he always brushed it off, shaking his head in addition to your concern, saying that he’s fine.

Health-wise, yes, he was fine... but emotionally? Oh, he was utterly smitten with you, even if he tried to play it off and gaslight himself into thinking he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed today and that’s why he’s feeling a bit strange but obviously, that was not true.

But can you blame him for thinking like that? He was knowledgeable about many things, but something as simple as love and affection was completely foreign to him. This was a new experience for him!

Even if he was so unknowing about love, you definitely were not. Seeing the way his personality changes from his usual one that’s an embodiment of sarcasm to being flustered and even tripping over his words? Now, that was unlikely of him...

So, you purposefully teased him, to gain reactions from him and to see if your suspicions are indeed right. It could go from you simply letting your gaze linger on him for a few seconds too long, brushing your shoulder against his as the two of you walked side by side, or letting your eyes fall to his lips.

And just as you thought, he always had a strong reaction to something you did, confirming your suspicions. Though, you liked him just as much as he liked you. His mind was poisoned with the thoughts of you while your dreams were filled with just him. Nothing else but him.

But your acts didn’t go unseen... at least not by Collei. She was honestly getting tired from seeing the two of you always pining each other but not one of you daring to make a move on the other. So, she had to make a plan. Push the two of you into a close contact situation.

Well... that’s how you ended up in this situation. Collei had purposefully forgotten to tell you to bring a tent to this little camping trip she planned, being all like “I’m so sorry, [name]! I ended up forgetting because of how excited I was about it! I would let you sleep in mine... but it’s too small for the both of us.”

You just ended up saying it’s okay, not wanting the poor girl to lose her marbles because she had somehow “forgotten” to tell you to bring a tent with you. “It’s fine, Collei. [name] can sleep with me in mine tonight, it’s not big but it can fit two people in it.” Tighnari had spoken up.

Now, you didn’t really expect him to be so willing to let you sleep with him tonight in his tent but... who were you to decline his invitation? After all, it’s a much better choice than sleeping outside where you could potentially get hurt. “Alright then, sorry again for causing trouble.” Collei apologized once again.

You put out the fire, exchanging a quick goodnight with Collei before she scurried off into her tent and so did you into Tighnari’s tent. He had already laid down the sleeping pad, the quilt on top. “I should’ve probably used my common sense and brought a tent with me, even if Collei didn’t mention it. Sorry about this.” You gave him a small smile as he dismissively waved his hand.

“Well, I certainly won’t deny that. It is a camping trip, after all, tents are expected to be brought even if the host doesn’t mention to bring one.” He replied before shaking his head. “But it’s fine, don’t beat yourself up over it too much. Come on.”

You and Tighnari laid down on the sleeping pad, covering yourselves with the quilt. The sleeping setup certainly wasn’t meant for two people, it had just enough space for one person but you had to make do, even if that meant your bodies pressed against each other.

Your cheeks had no doubt flushed with the close contact between the two of you, how could they not? You were sharing a bed with the man you’ve been crushing on for quite some time now...

You got caught off guard when you felt something fluffy wrap against your waist... it was Tighnari’s tail— you turned around, feeling his breath right on your face. It seemed as if he’d already fallen asleep... his eyes were tightly shut.

A smile couldn’t help but form itself on your lips as you looked at his face, his expression so blank yet... a calmness radiated off of it. Well— you thought he was asleep until you noticed one of his eyes opening. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh— I... didn’t mean to stare—” You were about to turn around once again before he stopped you, with his arm wrapping around you, pulling you close to him— letting your head lay against his chest. “Stay close to me, the night is cold. I don’t want you getting sick.” His voice had changed into a soft whisper, just loud enough for it to reach your ears.

Well... you hadn’t expected this from him, but... you weren’t going to decline his sudden affection. It was comforting and warm in his embrace, you felt safe in it even if your heart was thumping against your chest so hard it felt like it was going to jump out of your body.

“Get some sleep, [name]. I’ll keep you safe throughout the night.” Those are the last words you heard from him before your eyes became heavy, your ears blocking out every other sound as you succumbed to sleep.

[ethereallyjade]

Pick a Card: Traits of Your F/S

Choose a photo that calls to you and the cards will tell you a message. As always, this is just for fun. Do not take anything seriously or above legal or medical advice. If your interested in personal tarot readings and want to support me, check out my Paid Readings! Masterlist

1 - 2

3 - 4

Images are not mine

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Pile 1

Your F/S might wear big clothes. I'm seeing dresses, baggy clothes, or just oversized things. I'm getting somewhat emo vibes or they might just like black clothing. They are great at keeping optimism and picking themselves back up after periods of grief. Your F/S might have a hard time connecting with others or has had a bit of a rough past in terms of relationships. They could be a bit of a rebel as well or just crave more freedom in their lives. Back to their looks, their clothes might stand out in some way. Something about them or their personality is bold, but they don't even mean to be. They might have a very simple look, but it's so different from those around them that it comes off as bold, because I'm picking up on a very quiet and even reserved energy from them so I don't think their looks are a very conscious choice on their part. Either way, I'm still seeing that they're confident in themselves and have a leader like potential.

Pile 2

Clumsy, and colorful. Might wear sweaters or hoodies a lot. Could have an affinity towards churches? Or maybe really likes historic buildings or museums. Likes to travel. Likes the ocean. They are independent and trust their own decisions. They might move homes a lot and don't like living in one area for too long. They might live or be from somewhere with a cold climate. They have a humble upbringing. Could have come from a broken home, divorced parents, low income, or even faced homelessness at some point, but I'm seeing that they're ready to move on from that or have already. All in all, they're a very talented person and they're ready to take their opportunities. They might be from a different country than you.

Pile 3

Clean, smooth, "Must be perfect." Maybe their a Virgo lmao. I'm seeing that they can be the type of person to put up a front. They appear as well put together, mature, clean, and may even be seen as a leader of sorts, but on the inside they're definitely struggling with something. They might be a really naive person, and find themselves often being taken advantage of by those around them. This could also be taken as they're a very emotional person and need to learn how to put up this courageous front so that they stop being taken advantage of. As far as physical appearance goes, I'm seeing someone who's blond, medium length hair. Might like wearing blues and greens, dresses or long shirts. They might like to accessorize themselves. They may also be the type to really dress up when they leave the house, but dress very casual or im hearing 'bummy' behind closed doors lol.

Pile 4

They like hanging out with friends or even partying and drinking. They love to travel. I'm seeing a very happy and positive person hear. Maybe they can be randomly contemplative or have big dreams which is something their friends find odd about them because they usually have a kind of careless and partying type of personality. On the flip side, I can also see this as being someone that does not like to party. Maybe they're surrounding friends have a careless, parting attitude towards life and they want to break free of that and work towards something they find important. They might not be very close with their friends or feel like they've never fit in with their friend group, and again, dream of going somewhere else or leaving to find their people. They might contemplate moving overseas, so they might either be a foreigner to you or maybe you both move to a new country together. For physical traits, they might have curly hair. I'm seeing a lot of the color red. That might be their favorite color, or a color they wear a lot. Maybe their hair is red. I'm also seeing that they might get dressed up often.

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

will you write a fanfic about hunter from the bad batch and a female character who is maybe a nurse in pabu involving falling in love? Love love love your work

thanks so much for your patience, nonny! I hope you like this one <3

Nervous Love

Summary: You're nervous about telling Hunter how you feel; turns out, so is he.

Warnings: this isn't 18+ but my blog is so minors scram as usual; can be read as f!reader but I wrote it as gn; medic!reader, anxiety, fluff, confessions, post-season 3

Word Count: ~1.9k

A/N: apparently the muse likes Hunter right now. that, and I hacked my brain by changing the document font to Courier. Dividers by me, @/saradika, and @/dystopicjumpsuit

Falling in love with Hunter was the easy part. Telling him is proving to be far more difficult than you anticipated.

The rhythmic, ceaseless crashing of waves against the shore counts out the hours of your life on Pabu. Lungs full of brine and fresh-baked bread and bacta, you pass your days in your small clinic. You’re one of a handful of refugees on the island with any real medical training; between the younglings’ usual bumps and bruises, and the more complicated injuries that come from fishing for the islanders’ meals, or building new abodes, or just generally existing in the galaxy, you and your fellow doctors keep busy. Busy, but not overwhelmed. Not like you had been on the ship fleeing your home.

Pushing away the unwelcome dark cloud of memories, you glance out the small window of the medical exam room. Between patients, you’ve taken to inventorying the supplies at your disposal, making notes on your comlink about what you need to restock, what’s missing, what could work better. It keeps you occupied, at least.

Because if you’re not occupied or busy, your thoughts turn to him.

Not that you’re complaining. Not really. Hunter saturates your thoughts, soaks into your marrow and makes a home there. In the short few months that he and his siblings have finally found peace on Pabu, you’ve grown quite close to him. No, the reason you want to avoid thinking about the handsome eldest brother isn’t for any bad reason; it’s because thinking of him requires thinking about telling him how you feel, how you truly feel. And that, more than anything, sets off flurries of anxious butterflies in your stomach. You’ve never loved anyone before—not like this. Part of that newness scares you. 

As if summoned by your not-thoughts, there comes a familiar knock on your exam room door, a simple ascending pattern that no one else could know. Hot and cold rush through you in equal measures. Goosebumps prickle along your skin. 

“It’s open,” you call.

You keep your back to the door as you finish cataloging the small bin of medical supplies. Yet you don’t need to see Hunter for your body to respond to his presence. You’d know him anywhere. He carries with him the faintest scent of aftershave and carbon residue; every nerve in your body aligns to him like a compass pointing north. 

“Cyare.” 

His husky voice sends a shiver zipping up your spine. Despite your anxiety, the smile that spreads over your face feels natural and as easy as breathing.

“Hunter,” you sigh. 

Turning, you find his gray eyes already watching you. His hair’s started to grow out a little, and unless he cuts it soon, he’ll need to start tying it back. Today’s bandana is a deep cerulean that accentuates the glow of his skin and throws his skull tattoo into sharp relief. Part of you wants to tease him for abandoning his signature red; part of you wants to capture a holo of him in every color bandana he owns, each one better than the last.

One skeletal hand reaches for you. A furrow creases between his brows. “What’s wrong?” 

Blinking at him, you take his hand. “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

If being nervous about telling your boyfriend you love him qualifies as ‘something wrong,’ then you’re a droid.

Hunter doesn’t seem satisfied, however. His palm is warm against yours, and he threads your fingers together, but his frown continues to tug on his features. In contrast, your smile widens at the additional contact. 

“You feel...off,” he murmurs. His gaze searches your expression as if he can find the details of your woes in the lines of your face. “Heart rate is elevated. You haven’t been nervous like this since our third date, cyare.” 

“Was there a question in there?” you ask. You should know better by now than to think you could hide everything from him. Doesn’t mean you won’t keep trying.

He gives you an aggrieved look. “No. Will you answer honestly if I ask?”

“Maybe,” you respond after a moment. Even you can feel how your heartbeat skips a beat or three, uncertain where he’s going with this. “Depends on the question.” 

Shaking his head, he sighs. “Very funny. You’re off in an hour. Would you meet me at our beach?”

‘Your’ beach probably is the same beach as many other lovers on this isolated island, but you’ve never seen anyone else there at the same time. Tucked away by a line of cave-pocked cliffs on the eastern side of the island, the powdery sand and warm water is where you and Hunter shared many of your firsts. First date, first kiss, first time.

“Of course.” Stepping closer, you nudge his nose with yours. His heady musk fills your head. “If I ask a question, will you answer honestly?”

The smug little smirk that tugs at his lips makes your thighs press together. “Maybe. Depends on the question.” 

Rolling your eyes, you lean more of your weight against him, bringing your faces ever closer. “What should I wear?”

“You could show up in these scrubs and it’d make no difference to me.”

“I’m not getting sand in my scrubs again.” 

“Then wear whatever makes you happy, cyare.” 

He finally closes the gap between you. Mouths slanting together, you both sigh into the kiss. It’s familiar, this give and take. Kissing Hunter makes your entire world come to a standstill, just for him. When his arm slides around your waist to pull you impossibly closer, you hum low in your throat, heat beginning to swirl through your veins. 

“Hunter,” you warn, though there’s no real heat behind it. “I have a patient in five.”

“Mm, alright.” He pulls back, but doesn’t go very far. Cradling your face in both hands, his thumbs stroke slow arcs over your cheekbones. “I’ll see you at our beach.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the galaxy,” you say. Pecking his lips one more time, you reluctantly step out of his embrace to begin packing away your inventory project before your last patient of the day arrives. The anticipation of experiencing whatever it is he has planned at your beach makes the appointment go quickly.

Just over an hour later, changed into fresh, comfortable clothes, you wind your way down the final few walkways to the eastern part of the island. On the opposite shore, the sunset paints the sky a vivid orange, the ocean turned to liquid gold. But here, in the gathering darkness, you can’t help but beam up at the stars twinkling into existence above the horizon. The warm ocean breeze dances across your skin and invites you to play. Toeing out of your shoes as soon as you reach the beach proper, you dig your feet into the sand with a long, relaxed sigh. 

You never expected to find a home quite like Pabu. Nor a partner quite like Hunter. But you can’t imagine life without either, now.

That same anxiety from earlier, about how to tell Hunter your feelings, returns, but it’s muted here. It’s almost like the island itself is trying to lull you into a state of calmness, trying to help you believe that love isn’t something to be feared.

You hope the island is right.

Bringing your gaze back down to Pabu firma, a delighted gasp gets drowned out in the rushing of the waves. Spread out on a dark blanket, lit by a few small electric lamps wired to flicker like fickle candles, reclines Hunter. Like you, he seems to have changed into far more comfortable clothes: loose-fitting cotton pants and flowy white shirt that gives just the slightest peek of his inked-in sternum. As you approach, he looks up with a smile.

“Mesh’la,” he says, just loud enough for your ears before the wind snatches the compliment away.

Lowering yourself onto the blanket, your teeth catch at your bottom lip. Hunter pushes up to sit cross-legged in front of you. In the low, unsteady light, sea salt and sand rimed along his ankles, he looks so... different from the soldier you first encountered all those months ago. Slowly, Pabu has changed Hunter. He’s gained necessary weight; the bags under his eyes aren’t quite so deep anymore. And you can feel how living here has changed you, too: no longer living just for yourself, just to see another day, but living for someone else, too. Someone else’s happiness. The realization makes your throat tighten with unexpected tears. 

“Why’d you bring me here, Hunter?” you whisper.

He scoots closer. Your knees touch, warmth spreading through your body at those two points of contact. His gaze cuts away, over your shoulder, but you don’t follow it. He’s not looking at anything, not seeing anything, but searching nonetheless. Worry twists your stomach.

He ignores your question in favor of asking one himself. “If I ask you another question, mesh’la, will you be honest again?” 

Heart thudding in your throat, you nod.

Those eyes you adore so much drift back to yours. “If- If I were to say that I love you, what would you say?”

Lashes fluttering, your lips part in surprise. Shocked into paying closer attention, you realize belatedly that the skin around his eyes is tight with anxiety, and that he holds himself straight-backed and stiff. He’s been just as worried about this as you have.

“I’d say that I love you too,” you answer. Even with his enhanced senses, he must struggle to hear you over the waves crashing just a few dozen feet away. “I’d say that I’ve loved you for a long time.”

He swallows. “I’d say I’ve loved you since you first smiled at me. Maybe I didn’t know it then, but my heart did. I’d say I asked you to come here, because telling you how I feel anywhere else would feel wrong.”

Warmth tingles in your fingertips. Shuffling closer, you lean forward just enough to cup his cheek in one hand, your other seeking out his touch. Though his eyes seem to have trouble remaining on yours, you wait patiently for him to meet your gaze again.

“Is that what you’re saying right now, Hunter?” You don’t dare speak any louder now. No one’s around, but you don’t want this to find any ears except his. 

“Yes,” he gasps out. 

Clambering into his lap a little clumsily, you wrap yourself around him in a tight hug. You bury your face into the crook of his neck and inhale his scent, inhale everything he is and make space for this new part of him he’s shared with you. It fits into the same space you’ve just given him.

“I love you,” you whisper against his heated skin.

“I love you,” he rumbles against your ear. 

A shiver cascades over your body that has nothing to do with the way the ocean breeze has begun to cool off with the disappearance of the sun. “Say it again.”

“I love you,” he repeats, stronger this time. “With everything I am. With everything I ever will be.”

And as his admission settles into your bones and integrates into your DNA, for the life of you, you can’t figure out why you were so nervous about this.

Ragu list: to be added or removed, go here! if you've got a strike through your name, I can't tag you.

@dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar

@sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat

@deejadabbles @starqueensthings @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator

@sleepycreativewriter @bobaprint @dickarchivist @a-single-tulip

@thorsterstrudle @droids-you-are-looking-for @goblininawig @cw80831

@mssbridgerton @isaidonyourknees @dreamie411 @jedi-hawkins

@dangraccoon @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @9902sgirl @zenrobbins0021

[ampreh]

[TRF] Norma II

• Related to this : The Rust Factory - Norma (<- comics)

• Related to this : The Rust Factory - Norma (<- comics) I had SO much fun doing the vintage style of flash backs and imagination: I would have kicked myself for ignoring this very impactful style for its time.

Audrey pic: Context - Extract from the 2022 RP "It was the story of a corporate that had made a great scientific revolutionary invention! It was called D-Sire, a simple, medicated, fabulous everyday object that people couldn't live without. But during the process of improving the product, which was intended to target wider markets to make more profit, the D-Sire had unfortunately gone awry, causing a great catastrophe unparalleled among mankind. All cities had been wiped off the map, leaving only willless mutant humans and animals. The heroine had to flee her city, survive and fight her way back to the creator of the D-sire, who had abandoned his company and changed his identity. Coal was terrified of this cheap soap opera with its terrible special effects made of modelling clay and the saturated offbeat sound of the black-and-white picture on the small TV screen." A more than obvious reference to the AU Truffula Flu. And a huge reference to @audtreegrace, @miru667 's character. So of course, I don't have all the context since it's a vast AU with lots and lots of details, but I've got enough of a basis for my friends to recognize and that's good enough for me :> Nathan has already confused Audrey Grace with Audrey, the actress from their series HAHA. Alas, the Audrey and Ted of his world won't be born for several years. He didn't find the actress, but he did find a good friend with whom to talk for hours about anything and everything ♥

Norma Bellini pic: Well, Norma pin-up, because why not! In vintage calendar mode, because I love vintage aesthetics. And yes, those are the right dates I went to check on good old calendars haha. At first I wanted to do it in a swimsuit, but then I preferred the picnic. I love picnics.

Too big to fail pic: I had to do it! Of course I had to! The only time I've redone such an iconic portrait was for the first version of Cashtea-ler in the Let It Flow fanzine, in 2022 (I should do a new one with his new head). Nathan Cole (@1940s-onceler | @nalak-bel 's), in black and white in his best soot-colored suit!

Compilation : Just Normaler, to appreciate Normaler. On a more serious note, I like the idea that Nathan was guided throughout his first times by ladies, and not the reverse. I love this not-so-little whining man.

[stabbyfoxandrew]

More angel Neil please :))

WIP Wednesday (9/25) | Guardian Angel Neil AU (Part 238)

“Will you answer a question first?”

"If I must." Andrew says, flicking his fingers. “What is it?”

“I wanted to ask if it’s still just Neil.”

“Just Neil,” Andrew repeats, confused. “Are you asking if I have more than one angel?”

"Sort of. I’m asking if you’ve met anyone new or seen anything else strange recently.”

"No," Andrew lies. Then he blows air when he thinks of something. "Yes."

Betsy latches on. "Care to talk about it?"

"Sure. I found a feather on the roof a while ago.”

“That’s nice, but not really what I meant—”

“It glows sometimes."

"Oh.” Betsy says, changing her tune. “What color is it?"

"White. But it glows blue." Andrew tells her, thinking of the cerulean light that illuminates his pillow.

"That sounds pretty." Betsy says with a smile. "Out of curiosity, have your roommates seen the feather?"

"No. I didn't show them."

"But you kept it?" Bee asks. At Andrew's nod, she continues. "So, we've got an angel and a glowing feather. Angels have wings, so I’m told. That makes me wonder, did the feather come from Neil?"

Andrew was not expecting her to ask. It's such a simple conclusion to reach. Betsy doesn't like simple things. 

"I think so."

"Did you ask him?"

"No," Andrew says. It's not quite a lie. He'd asked, but Neil thought Andrew was scheming to see his wings again. Andrew's heart leaps. Neil's wings. It's his birthday. He's going to see them today. Later. Soon.

"When does it glow?"

"When."

"Is it constantly or a specific time of day?" Bee asks. She’s genuinely curious if her expression is to be believed. Andrew doesn't understand why she's so hung up on the feather, but he glances down at his shoes and thinks about it for a moment.

"At night."

Betsy gets a look on her face and sort of nods to herself. "Okay."

"No. No 'okay'. What was that?"

"I just know you aren't fond of nighttime." Betsy says, making Andrew bristle. Damn her for being good at her job. "And I know you sometimes have a hard time sleeping. Maybe the feather is a subconscious plea for you to invest in a nightlight."

Andrew laughs. He is not afraid of the dark. Only the monsters that lurk in it.

"Oh yes, a twenty-year old man with a nightlight. I'm sure my roommates would just love that."

"It might help." Bee says with a smile. For a split second, Andrew considers buying a fucking nightlight. If nothing else it would at least piss Aaron off. That's almost enough to convince him. Then he realizes he's basically just been using Neil's feather as a nightlight. The glow of it brightens and dampens. Sometimes it's so bright he can hardly sleep and other times it barely lights up at all.

"Enough about the feather," Andrew says, shaking his head. "I answered your question, you answer mine."

"I'm sorry. What was your question, Andrew?"

"I..." Andrew has to think about it. His fucking meds are eating holes in his brain. "Why would Neil suddenly start showing up in new places? It used to be just the roof. Now it's the roof and practice and Nicky's."

"He's your friend, Andrew. Why wouldn't he go where you go?" Betsy's voice is calm and even and it's annoying.

"I suppose that makes sense."

"Now, back to my questions. The reason I asked about any new," Bee fumbles for a word, "Things. Is because of the study I read this weekend. It was about a young lady who is taking medication similar to yours. I wanted to see if anything lined up."

"This girl had a guardian angel?"

Betsy opens her mouth. "I can't tell you all that."

"She's not your patient, Betsy. She's a case study." Andrew points out. "No confidentiality clause between you."

[scrubbinn]

Mimic HRT: 16 months “Body dysmorphia”

“The mimic octopus, Thaumoctopus mimicus, the thing that has, in some way, become a part of me. At least it’s the thing mixed into my slime medication. It’s been about a week since I turned into a cocoon. Which, even the doc still doesn’t know why exactly that part happened. And while I'm glad it's over, I’m worried there's something else in this treatment that no one knows about. Last time I checked, cocoons have nothing to do with slimes or octopi… octopus? Oh this is going to bug me all day.”

“It's funny I don't consider that cocoon to be the strangest part. It’s that I’m oddly calm about the whole thing. It’s not like the calm before I started taking normal hormone replacements, that was like a film over me that left me unable to express emotions. Now, I just feel calm. Complete. Myself. I suppose I can no longer consider myself a slime, though I am still similar. I've been told that thanks to me, Mimic HRT is now being perfected and stocked for others as a type of shapeshifter medication. I really didn't expect to become a patient zero for something like this. I can’t complain too much, this body really is everything I could have wanted. I should probably explain. It’d be a good idea to go over all the new parts of me.”

“Alright, from the top… actually I don’t know if that works, I’m not exactly humanoid, not always at least. Oh, I guess we can start with that actually. Shapeshifting has become nearly second nature. The brain isn’t human anymore, so it’s not really that surprising that it’s become so easy to take different shapes. Everytime I enter a new room, the first thing I think to do is copy the appearance of the wall or some furniture, it’s just this predator ambusher mentality that feels so correct to morph into something else. Mimicking people or objects in motion is incredibly tiring, but inanimate objects are so much easier. It’s probably because Mimics don’t spend much time moving so it exerts way more energy. Like, you know how most video games you see mimics as treasure chests right? Well I’m sure there’s an answer about game design, but no, seriously, it’s because you get to just be a simple square shaped object without worrying about how many fingers or teeth you’re supposed to have or worry about how to move convincingly. I already know I’m convincing, I am a box! Look, sometimes you just gotta turn into a ball and do nothing for half the day and it just feels nice. It’s those times where I’m too exhausted to do anything so I spend the entire time pretending to be a couch. There are also times where I can’t help but move. When I know I’m safe in my bed, for example, I let all my extra limbs move on their own to find crevices between the mattress and pillows, it’s like I’m trying to find a hole to slide into for safety. Sometimes I also shift color and texture on my own without realizing, which has led to some awkward moments where I’ve jumpscared Abi about… pretty much every time she picks me up for a date."

“I did say mimicking living things was difficult but that doesn’t mean I'm constantly just a pile of goo and eyes on the floor. I have a humanoid form that I can enter with ease. It's a bit more cloudy than the normal sky blue of my previous form though. My hair has changed a lot too. It's still the same material and texture, but it's become flattened to something more ribbon-like. It's much longer too, reaching out to my back. I can move it now though. I can stretch them, widen, flatten, turn them into tubes, they can curl and soap up, and with just a little water, I basically look like I did before, just, with a bunch more, teeth and eyes.… Ok so yes, I might be missing a face where the typical one is and I just shift colors and textures to pretend I still have one. And maybe a few of these limbs are just weirdly shaped mouths, with teeth that snap at anything that gets too close. And perhaps I have dozens of eyeballs all over my body- Ok, ok, this is a lot actually, let’s go over this one at a time. Teeth first I guess. I've been finding them in various shapes and lengths all across the body, and they move around too, I think in total I've found seven. There might be an eighth, it's hard to really count, especially when they move and bite automatically. At least they know well enough not to try and eat anyone I like. Hear that Dr. Erian? Better be careful! Ha! Anyway, eyes have been easier to deal with. There's dozens that swim around my hair and body, they usually stay closed until a vibration hits one and then they all suddenly open up. 360 degree vision isn't something that's easy to describe. It feels… spherical? That's the best explanation I have. At least they blend in with the body so I don't have to worry about people constantly being terrified of me. As long as I can hide the teeth under clothing, and keep most of my eyes closed, I look like a normal slime. Hm, normal. Kinda lost normal from my vocabulary somewhere along the way. Normal doesn’t involve a month long metamorphosis”

“About the cocoon… I… no, we don't need to talk about it. We can talk about something else…”

“Oh! The brain, it's… unique, it's doing fine though. No more headaches for the most part. Abigail and I have been studying this thing a lot. It's kinda hard to call it a brain. It siphons out nutrients melted down in the goo and sends it throughout this body with what I call its root system. They're kinda like nerves, but I'm naming them roots, because it just sounds better and also cause it looks like there’s a giant potato growing in my head. Besides, I don’t think they help move the body like nerves, the roots pull and push through the body, rearranging themselves to where I need some nutrition or where there’s an injury. I know other slimes have a core that they can move around and even remove for a bit. Never heard of one moving on its own, and I'm pretty sure if this was removed, I'd die on the spot. It's so weird to think this thing is a brain and a stomach. It's definitely a brain. If the core is hanging out near my leg, that's where I feel the headaches. Oh right, it moves more than just the roots around. I don't think I can control it? Control it… ha, yeah like a human can control their own brain, why should I be so different…”

“Uh… so, the thing is… I uh, I have something to say, about… how I don't have anything to say right now. But I will later, when it's important! Because it isn't important right now. Let's talk about something actually important, like, like… Actually yeah. I do need to talk about something. Because I don’t know how to bring it up to Abi, or you Erian when we last met.”

“I'm, not acting right. I mean, I am acting right, for a mimic. But I don't know, I thought I'd be acting like a cute slime that was curious and ditzy and cute and someone who… people still liked. Abi hasn't said it, but I know she doesn't like the new me. It's understandable, I'm a lot less cute and a lot more, eldritch. That’s not fair to her, we still love each other, it’s just this change is, a bit much. I already mentioned hiding with camouflage and biting things automatically. But there's the fact I'm still missing my memories, and I think at this point it's clear I'm never getting them back. Not to mention making human memories isn't possible anymore. Everytime I think back on things. I don't look at memories like how I used to. I used to look back on them with emotions and feelings. But now, I can only view memories as things that tell me if something is dangerous or food. When it's neither, when it's family or friends, I feel nothing. My brain is animalistic, it's a solitary predator for a social life. Is it even possible for me to adapt to that? Maybe… maybe I should stop taking the medication. Stop here when I still can. Is that wrong of me? Am I less of an otherkin for wanting to cling to the remainder of this humanity? I don't know. I don’t know anything!”

“…I do know something. I know how I cocooned myself- Shit! I didn't mean- it’s ok, I'll just start a new record- I… no I need to talk about what happened at some point. It’s hard but I need to get it out of my head somehow. I just need some time before I can talk about it.”

“I need to talk about something happy. It's probably not coming across well but I am happy. I am truly, genuinely happy. Being a mimic hasn't stopped my soapy journey. I'm still a soap slime at heart and my slipperiness has only gotten more hilariously troublesome. Now that every part of this body is made of materials crafted to slip around, it's been fun to learn new ways to not bang my head on every wall. I'm actually being serious, it's kind of fun to slide everywhere, I feel like a kid again. Not to mention that sometimes Abi will just stick random aromatics in my hair and the whole room starts to smell like orange peel and pine. I know slimes are a more fantastical species but sometimes I do wonder how a soap slime would evolve in the wild. What would I do? Is the scent thing to lure in prey? To socialize with others of their kind? Maybe if I did fully become a slime, I'd get a nature documentary made about me. Being a slime is cool but mimics aren't bad either, there are some upsides to it. With all this control of my body, I finally feel like myself, when I need a different body type for my human form I don't need to think about it, it just happens, if I feel like being purple that day it just happens, different hair, different voice, different anything. I finally don't have to be forced into one thing. It feels like… it just feels, I feel everything better, from how sweet Abi's voice is, to the wind blowing through Hyper city, to the vibrations of the soft sounds of the night life. I am happy. I am really truly honestly happy.”

“ok, I'm ready to talk about it. About the cocoon. I can do this. I. Can. Do. This. It was just a day before it happened, that's when the pain started. I don't mean the pain of my brain being rewritten, or the pain of my skin dissolving. Those were bad, but what I experienced. It was indescribable. This started in the middle of the night. I couldn't sleep for the past two days from an aching body except for the brief moments of unconsciousness. Then all of a sudden, I felt a searing pain in my chest. I was delirious from exhaustion and the sudden jolt of fear wasn’t helping. I somehow got the idea that something foreign was growing inside my slime body, like a mold, and just like a mold, it spread. I could feel the misery move throughout my body into my limbs and neck. I think what I was feeling was the exposed nerves of my new teeth forming surrounded by solidified lye, but no, what I felt had no explanation. Nothing could ever fully rationalize what I felt that night. The torrent of agony eventually crawled into my head, I thought it was a nightmare. I did, things, in my panic, that I don't want to remember for this recording, and I don’t want anyone to learn about. Turns out mimics can get scars, that’s all I’m going to say. It felt like I was about to recede into nothingness, or disintegrate completely, either one would have been preferred over what actually happened. It just continued. It felt like different layers of pain where eventually I'd start to dissociate only for some new sudden jolt of pain to bring me back. Like every single one of my cells was popping one after the other. I couldn't even scream, I forgot I had no lungs and didn't remember how slimes even talked, I just laid there, unable to move, hoping somehow a doctor or witch would arrive to stop the pain. Eventually thinking became too hard. Every single micrometer of my insides and outsides were screaming, and I couldn't pass out. You could simply say it hurt and call it a day, and you would be wrong. Getting a scrap when you fall on the sidewalk hurts. This was hell. That's when it happened. I still don’t understand it. I mean it was probably the pain and exhaustion causing hallucinations and… I heard a voice. In my head I mean. It was so clear despite everything and I was struggling so hard to listen, but the voice was gentle. It taught me what to do to ease the pain. I followed its words. The next thing I remember was waking up next to Abi and my mother rushing in with a doctor. I think you were informed about the rest. Looking forward to the call I get from you about this one. End recording.”

* * *

“Good morning Ms.Mulberry, pleasant to see you in higher spirits than our last meeting.”

“Hello Theo. Let's make this meeting quick, Abi and I are going out in half an hour.”

“Blunt as ever. Fine then, I wish we could have had this talk sooner, but I believe we need to discuss the crossroads you've entered. I'm sure you've already heard about it and if you wish to skip right over I understa-”

“Tell me. Please.”

“Beg pardon? Well… ahem. There's a point in every transition that we refer to as a crossroads. What can best be described as a choice, we can put you on a much lighter dosage of your medication until your body is producing the correct chemicals to remain stable on its own. This would be the end of your transition. On the other hand, with your written consent, we would continue with your treatment's normal dosage until you fully become a mimic. This would most likely entail complete identity loss, and losing any part of you that could be called human. Depending on your sentience and level of aggression, you would be given over to the proper authorities to make sure the rest of your life is handled properly as per the agreement on the paperwork you signed.”

“...I.”

“You’ll have to make this choice soon, from your latest recording you may have already gone past your crossroad, but you still can turn back from here. I promise. If you wish, there are other things we can discuss. You mentioned a voice that appeared inside your head. Have you heard it since?”

“No, I haven’t. Sorry I’m not feeling great, could I go soon?”

“You’ve undergone a great deal of stress Ms.Mulberry. You look like you’ve barely slept in days, despite your claims to the contrary, you don’t appear to be very happy. You should probably seek a listening ear. I can get you in contact with a therapist who specializes in therian traumas.”

“Dr. Erian?”

“Yes Ms.Mulberry?”

“Am I a coward for wanting to turn back? Am I not actually otherkin? Am I just a leech for people who need this treatment more than me? I should want to continue right? Why do I suddenly care about the little of me that’s human? I don’t even remember when I was human! Why should I care? Why do I care? What am I?”

“You're brave Mayday. You're very brave.”

“I’d like to move to a lighter dosage.”

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@aster-is-confused, @bloodandbrandywyne, @glitchgloop

[toastyrobos]

When flowers do the talking (Wrecker x female reader one shot)

Word count: 3116

((You had no idea why wrecker always came by the medical bay or would bring the occasional small batches of flowers. He said he was just being nice. You had no idea why he was doing it. It’s not until Tech let’s it slip that Wrecker likes you, That you realize how much he has occupied your headspace so you rush to find him))

Once again your eyes drifted over to the bouquet of flowers resting in the vase next to the window. Rain pelted the glass as per usual. That was the one thing you didn’t particularly like about Kamino. Torrential rain. On most occasions it didn’t bother you, but on days when it just poured you weren’t too keen about it.

A week ago though your spirits had been lifted. By the same individual who seemed to know just when a heavy rainstorm was brewing. You had no idea how he knew, but giving the vase your full attention, you didn’t mind. In fact you actually enjoyed it.

Anytime the well built member of clone force 99 would come by it put a smile on your face. Most days it was as simple as a hello or how is your day going. He didn’t get to stay for long, as he usually was called away for missions often. No surprise. Given the groups track recorded.

But he would make up for it. The row of flower vases that use to line your windowsill as a tall tel sign.

Every time Kamino was due for heavy rain, Wrecker would bring you another set of flowers. Your first instinct was where was he getting them from? Kamnio was surrounded by multiple bodies of water. Things like flowers were not within the planet’s surface?

The second thought was why was he giving you of all people flowers? Was it because you were one of the main medical staff members and he wanted to show you his appreciation?

That didn’t seem correct. You were simply doing your job is all.

Your next thought seemed even less plausible. Making you shake your head at how ridiculous it sounded.

Whatever his reasoning for gifting them to you was it didn’t really matter anymore. It was sweet and made any stressful rainy day you experienced brighter.

“(Y/N)?” You lifted your attention to the two figures hovering in the doorway.

Your eyes grew at the state both of them were in. Especially their resident brainiac.

“Tech”. Stunned you were at the way he was limping and clinging onto Hunter for support. Instantly you dropped whatever task you were preforming and moved over to him. Wrapping an arm around Tech’s figure you helped Hunter guide him to the empty medical table.

“What happened?” You immediately questioned the two of the them. Or whoever would ever answer you first.

“A training exercise”. Hunter answered, crossing his arms over his board chest. “We decided to test out a new formation and well it did not go to plan”.

“Technically it did”. Tech held up a finger. “By my calculations we had an 80% chance of success”.

You turned your back to them, digging through your medical supplies for a brace and bacta spray.

“Not 100% though”. You merely said.

You heard Tech exhale behind you. “The chances of a 100% success rate are exponentially low to near impossible. Wrecker’s purists in expressing his romantic attraction towards you, by the use of colorful flora and fauna has a higher success rate I’ve determined”.

You stopped what you were doing. Everything pausing around you.

“What?”

For a few minutes no one uttered a single word. You shook your head. You must have heard him wrong.

Hunter was the first one to break it. “Tech!” He scolded his fellow squad member.

Tech blinked. Not understanding the gravity of his actions he had caused.

“I thought it was obvious”. He simple explained repositioning his slipping goggles.

Obviously it was not. And frankly the very notion of it sounded ridiculous.

You chuckled nervously. “Thats impossible”.

With equipment in hand you twisted back around to attend to your current patient. Who had no idea the affects his statement had on you or your racing mind and heart.

Hunter did, however. The minute Tech had revealed Wrecker’s rather obvious secret he witnessed the way your complexion paled for a brief second before your cheeks shifted to a light shade of pink. The way your heart skipped a beat momentarily then picked up in speed. He was about to say something, but you beat him to the punch.

“Wrecker doesn’t have feelings for me”. You argued, ripping open a bacta patch. Something about the cooling nature of it against your heated skin felt refreshing.

“Your wrong Tech. The flowers are just him being nice”.

Patch in hand you brought it up to the exposed skin of his leg and applied it. Tech hissed slightly from the cold sensation of the patch meeting the warm temperatures of his body.

“Technically you are correct”. He began. “Wrecker is the most accommodating and indulgent one out of the five of us, however it has been visible to each of us, in multiple instants, that he attracted to you. Romantically that is”.

You blinked.

“If I may (Y/N). Wrecker is quite taken by you. Infatuated I believe would be the proper term. On several occasions each one of us has witnessed him speak about you with such significance. From my research it would appear he was, as I’ve read, as though he was ‘floating on air’”.

You opened and closed your mouth. Processing his words. The meanings. The implications in which they held.

This…this couldn’t be true. Could it though?

Again you shook your head. Tech was wrong. Strange as it sounded. Wrecker was just being friendly. Kind. Generous. It’s who he was. Strong and ruthless as he could be in battle, he also had a heart of gold. Wore it on his sleeve.

There was absolutely no way that some like him could harbor romantic affection for you.

And yet. The mere idea of it gave you pause. Was he just being nice? We’re the array of different flowers just a friendly gesture? Or was there more to it?

Racking your brain for anything, you stumbled upon a recent memory. A day when everything that could go wrong, had gone wrong.

Sitting at your desk, body hunched over, you hadn’t noticed him come in. He coughed to get your attention. To which you immediately looked up, eyes meeting his brown ones. Another Bouquet of flowers were in his gloved hands. Red roses this time. Your favorite.

You were beyond exhausted, however the second you eyes landed on him every bad moment from the day vanished like it never had existed.

The way he would stumble over his words every time that he talked to you. How flustered he became in your presence. How he avoided your gaze in certain situations.

It was if everything around you had stopped. Frozen in time.

By the maker.

How had you not noticed it before. It was all right there! Plain as day to see! And you had missed it.

Had missed every single detail.

Maker..

He had feelings for you. Wrecker had feelings for you.

Heat immediately pooled in your cheeks at the sudden realization. Butterflies fluttering away in your stomach at what ever single arrangement of flowers now meant.

From where he was residing, Hunter could see your poor attempt at concealing your flustered appearance. His brown eyes catching yours only making your blush deepen.

It felt like your entire face—no, your entire body was tingling with warmth. Caused by the same individual who had gifted you such treasures.

It was then you came to a second, more deeper realization.

You reciprocated his feelings. You had feelings for Wrecker.

How his wide grin could light up a room. The way he would take an interest in your day. And above all, the flowers. The flowers….

“(Y/N)”. Hunter called out your name, but you couldn’t hear him.

Millions of thoughts and memories had taken over your mind. You were starting to question the nature of every time Wrecker would say hello to you or was nervous around you.

Was every one of them him taking an opportunity to work up the courage to eventually tell you how he felt?

Looking back on them it had to be. You were absolutely certain of it. The way his gaze would linger on you for far longer then normal.

“(Y/N)!” Hunter’s raised voice snapped you out of your trance.

You blinked. “I-I’m sorry. I just..”.

Your voice drifted off. An overwhelming feeling taking control of your body. Everything suddenly becoming clear. And you knew what you needed to do, before you could rationally think it over.

Before either one of them could utter another word, you dashed out of the medical bay, stumbling as you rounded the corner. Nearly straight into another person.

“Sorry!” Not stopping for even a single minute, you briefly apologized from further down the corridor.

All you could think about was locating Wrecker and telling him exactly how you felt. That you reciprocated his feelings. That you wanted to be with him. Or at the very least give whatever this was a brewing between you two a chance.

However you didn’t know where to start looking. With Hunter and Tech back in the infirmary there was a high probability that their squad was staying put for a bit. As evident by Tech’s minor sprain. Meaning that Wrecker was here. Perhaps near by.

They had just come from the training field. Maybe they had made their way back to their barracks. You rounded another corner. Kriff why did every single hallway have to look the same with its blinding white interior?!

Taking another left you came face to face with the open door to their barracks. You ducked your head inside momentarily to see if he was here. Everything inside laid so still. As if untouched for a while. Kriff. He wasn’t here.

“(Y/N)?” You recognized that voice. You quickly snapped your head in that direction to find Echo walking towards you, a bit confused to find you at his door.

“Echo I need to find Wrecker. Where is he?” You cut off him impatiently, before he could ask what you were doing here of all places.

Puzzled, he pointed down the hall. In the direction he had just come from. “In the hanger, why are—“

Even before the entirety of the sentence could leave his lips you had already dashed off. Running in the opposite direction you had come from. Fully intent on finding Wrecker and letting him know your true feelings. Adrenaline pumped through you veins as you raced down multiple halls. Your destination near.

Finally. Rounding the last corner, you stopped briefly, eyes frantically scanning the surrounding bay to see if you could find him or the Marauder.

Eyes widened the minute you spotted it. Off to the left, housed between a weapon storage vault and another larger vessel. Then you eyes found him.

Nothing stopping you, you quickly darted across the hanger bay. Legs pumping, burning from the excessive running you had done today. But you paid it no mind. No. Reaching Wrecker was all that mattered.

As if he could sense your presence, his frame twisted around to see you coming at him full force.

“(Y/N) what are you—Mmfph”. You flung your body into his, impulsively crashing your lips onto his, cutting him off and rendering him completely speechless.

Realizing what was happening to him, Wrecker reached his arms around your fragile frame securing his hold onto you. The warmth of your body up against his chest mixed with how sweet your lips tasted, maker he thought he was for sure in heaven.

You tasted so delightful on his lips. Like one of those nectar infused cocktails down at the 79. But better. Much better. Richer. More flavorful. Like honey. And he loved honey.

For you, the second your lips touched his it was like fireworks going off. Electrifying and loud, but bright and spectacular. He was so gentle in the way he held you. Careful to not let his strength become too much. Applying just the right amount of pressure.

Maker did you absolutely want to continue kissing him. But you also came here with a purpose. To tell him that you felt the same way about him that he did about you.

Besides you had a good hunch that once you laid everything out in the open, getting to kiss him would become a normal occurrence.

Reluctantly you pulled away. To his disappointment.

But he quickly recovered, staring straight at you. A puzzled look in his eyes. “W-what was that for?”. He questioned you. Vaguely worried that he was dreaming what was happening to him right now. Bracing himself, he had to be sure it was all truly real.

“Tech”. You took in a deep breath, steadying yourself. “He told me everything, Wrecker”. He continued to stare at you, perplexed. What did you know?! There was so much that Tech knew! What had he told you?

“I know about the flowers”. His eyes widened. Tech had told you that secret. Oh dear. “I know that you…you have feelings for me”.

He swallowed slowly, feeling his throat dry at your eyes scanning him. Frantically he opened his mouth to say something. Like Tech was wrong. Or that you had missed heard him or—

“And I wanted you to know that I care about you too”. You admitted out loud finally. To both yourself and him. Having your own confession out in the open felt invigorating. Like a weight off your shoulders.

Even if you had only realized the truth of it all less then twenty minutes ago. It didn’t matter.

Wrecker stood there stunned. Frozen, you wrapped up in his arms. Was he dreaming? He must have been. Because he most definitely misheard you.

“Y-you mean it?”. He responded before he could give it a second thought.

You nodded. “I do. I didn’t realize I did until Tech told me how you felt”.

It was true. You hadn’t really thought about it until Tech put the idea in your head. The the idea of you and Wrecker made perfect sense to you.

He made you laugh, brightened the gray days you would have, and you adored his goof ball energy. And if you were being completely honest, you liked a man who could swallow you up in a single hug. Wrecker checked all the box’s for you.

You lifted your hands up and took his face between them. “I really like you Wrecker”. You confessed wholeheartedly. “I really do”.

The biggest smile you’d ever seen erupted across his face. The pure joy and happiness radiating off of him was contagious. You felt him light up like a thousand stars in the night sky. The browns of his eyes glowing like two embers.

“I love you”. He crushed his rough lips onto yours, catching you off guard. For the briefest of moments you were unable to register what he had said. But then you quickly melted into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, leaning into him.

You couldn’t explain the feelings that coursed through your veins, but somehow you felt whole. Like this is where you were meant to be. Being embraced by an individual who was responsible for much joy in your life.

Breaking apart, both of you were left breathing heavily. Lungs near exasperated from the lack of air flow. But it was worth it.

“Wow! That was…wow”. You giggled at his simple minded description.

“Yeah”. You mumbled, shyly biting your bottom lip.

His smile softened as he studied your flushed cheeks. “Maker your really beautiful”. He complimented you without a second thought.

Instantly your entire face flared up at his very honest observation. Normally you did not get embarrassed, but now with everything coming back to you, including a clear head, you made the discovery of just how emotionally driven you’d been.

Not that it was a bad thing, it just usually wasn’t your style. Yet in this situation you were grateful that you had been a bit…reckless in allowing your heart to guide you. For it had led you down this path. To this.

“And your eyes. But especially your smile. Your smile (Y/N) is incredible”. Wrecker confessed. “It was the first thing I noticed and man oh man did it reel me in! It was like I was seeing the sun for the first time”.

You’d seen Wrecker passionate and enthusiastic numerous times, mostly when talking about being on the battlefield. Destroying ‘clackers’ as he referred to them. But never about you. Let alone your smile. You didn’t even know that he liked it that much. The way he was describing it however made your heart swell.

You were too stunned to speak. So he just kept on going. “When I brought you flowers you would always smile, like I was your favorite person, so I-I kept on bringing you some. Umm…even if nothing happened, I’d at least get to see you smile and that would make any day better then it was”.

He brought you flowers, not just because he cared about you, but because he wanted to see your smile?

Dan Ferrik. You swore your heart would melt at that. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing him confess to you!

“Wrecker, you really like my smile that much?”

Wrecker shook his head. “No. I love it”.

Now you were positive your heart was melting. If not your heart then your eyes. Tears had started welling up in them, only to overflow down your cheeks.

“Y-you do?” You asked to which he nodded, leaning in to lay his forehead against yours. Your heart was beating rapidly at this point. No end to its frantic nature in sight.

“I love everything about you”. Now it was his turn to be flustered, but it did not bother him.

He confessed all that he wanted to. All that he needed to. And never in his wildest dreams would he think that you’d feel the same way. But by golly he was so thrilled that you did.

Placing you back down on the ground, to avoid anymore suspicious stares, he scratched at the back of neck. Nervous ticks finally setting in. But he was grateful for your lingering touch. Your hand Iaced with his. Fingers tangled together. Making him feel slightly less nervous.

“Would you like to umm…go out?”

Leaning up on your tippy toes, you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I would love to, Wrecker”. You both beamed from ear to ear.

“Tomorrow?” His smile as bright as ever.

“Tomorrow”. You echoed, spinning around. But not before you uttered one last thing.

“Oh and I’m looking forward to the Bouquet”.

[triforce-of-mischief]

Blupee Blood

Rating: T

Warnings: physical restraint, lots of panic, and excessive descriptions of a needle/pseudo medical procedure.

Word count: 2300

Summary: Inadvertently transformed into a bunny, Legend is kidnapped by a gang of Yiga who are looking for blupee blood. Legend knows that they have the wrong bunny, but the Yiga are determined to have their prize one way or another.

Notes:

Adjacent to Overcome, just a bonus story because I don't want to fit this into the main timeline.

As always with my Bunleg fics, please don't think about the semantics too much.

AO3

Please show your support with a reblog! Likes do nothing.

Legend could feel eyes on him as he walked away from their camp. Four’s quiet worry, Warriors’ underlying protectiveness, Hyrule’s curiosity. The constant attention was exactly why he had suddenly announced that he was going on a quick walk for some fresh air, no need to accompany him. Wild had sworn that there were no monsters around, so Legend didn’t bother to grab any weapons other than his fist ring and an ice rod.

The ambient bustle and chatter of camp quickly faded, replaced with buzzing insects and tall grass rustling in the breeze. Legend closed his eyes, walking aimlessly and breathing in the crisp air. This was what they were fighting for. A peaceful kingdom, untouched by evil.

Evil, of course, chose that moment to touch Legend.

An unexpected misstep brought Legend’s boot to a sticky, miasmic substance that, as he gasped and looked down at it, sent red tendrils to climb and cling. They darted up and around his boots, reaching his knees in a matter of seconds. It burned on contact with bare skin, but he had no time to react before he fell to the ground, catching himself with-

Paws. Pink, furry bunny paws.

Legend wanted to scream.

So he did, though it was more of an embarrassingly high shriek. It wasn’t like there was anybody around to hear him, so he did it again for good measure.

Just how had it not crossed the champion’s mind to warn them about random puddles of sinister gunk? If Legend had known, he would have brought his moon pearl but just this once, he had considered himself safe to leave most of his gear behind for a simple walk.

Whiskers twitching as he grumbled murderous thoughts, Legend turned tail and began to hop back in the direction of camp. Only a few hops later, he was stopped in his tracks by an explosion of hanafuda.

A gloved hand grabbed the scruff of Legend’s neck, hoisting him up to come face-to-face with a white mask bearing an upside-down symbol of the Sheikah. The wearer of the mask was tall and lanky, wearing a red skintight bodysuit and flanked by two seemingly identical individuals.

Legend glared and ground his teeth. Just act like a normal rabbit and they’ll let you go, no harm done. There’s no way you can fight one of them like this, let alone three.

“Is that really a blupee?” one of them asked, tilting his head to the side. “I thought it would be more… blue.”

Another elbowed him. “It’s a magic bunny, idiot, you think they can’t come in more colors?”

Legend showed no signs of understanding their banter. Not a magic bunny, just a normal one, now let me go.

“Both of you shut up,” the one holding Legend snapped. “If this is a blupee, the color of its fur won’t matter. It’s the inside that counts.”

“Yeah!” the first one nodded along. “Blupee blood… rumored to be one of the most magically potent liquids in Hyrule! Imagine what Master Kohga could do with a store of the stuff!”

“Glory to Master Kohga,” the three intoned in unison.

That was a bit concerning. Legend prepared himself to slip free and bolt away the instant one of them raised their weapon. There was only one way these goons could harvest his blood, he thought, very much aware of the vicious-looking sickles on their backs.

His kidnappers gave no warning before teleporting, the peaceful field vanishing in the blink of an eye. Legend sneezed as a fluttering paper brushed his nose, then observed his new surroundings.

They were in a cave now, cool and damp with moss-covered walls and lit by a few luminescent plants. A simple wooden table and stools were shoved against a curved wall. A crude bamboo cage sat, empty, on top of a crate in a corner of the cave. Drawings and diagrams of rabbits and recipes decorated the walls.

Nice and homey, Legend thought. Hopefully this isn’t too far from where I was… Wild’s era is so massive, I could escape and never find the others.

It wasn’t going to be nearly as easy to escape now, though. Who knew how many tunnels connected to this room? Legend couldn’t even see a hint of sunlight coming from the entrance.

“You, get the stuff ready,” the not-Sheikah holding Legend ordered. “I’ll need help holding it down-”

Absolutely not. Legend drew the line there, not giving them the chance to draw their sickle before he twisted and bit down on fingers that were only protected by a single layer of fabric. The goon shouted in pain and surprise, fumbling Legend and dropping him. The pink bunny sprinted away, weaving around feet and slipping on wet moss. He was once again thwarted by a shower of hanafuda and two pairs of hands finding purchase on his body.

“You’re as slippery as a banana peel, I’ll give you that!” one of them exclaimed. Legend had lost track of who was who but he supposed that it didn’t matter at this point.

“We’re not even going to kill you!” the other added. “You should consider yourself lucky that you’re a goldmine of magic. Yes, we’ll keep you alive for as long as we can use you, don’t you worry.”

Legend tilted his head to the side, confused. He hadn’t expected them to have actually thought this through. Not that he trusted those sickles for a second. A careless slash could still injure him badly enough to bleed out in minutes.

They carried Legend back to the table, firm hands keeping his head and legs in place. His attempts to kick, twist and bite were easily quashed. The realization that he might not be able to escape set in, along with a looming sense of panic. He had forgotten how his rabbit form intensified fear; his heartbeat increased to an unnaturally fast staccato and his senses were more oversensitive than ever.

The not-Sheikah arranged Legend on the table, keeping him restrained with pressure on his head, back, and legs.

“Hold it still. I don’t want the needle coming out just because you can’t handle a ‘slippery banana peel.’”

Legend skipped a breath, a heartbeat.

He had to have heard that wrong, there was no way-

He managed to turn his head enough to see the third kidnapper, and everything came crashing down.

In one hand, the not-Sheikah held a few small glass vials, empty and waiting for so-called blupee blood.

In the other, an empty syringe with a very long needle on the end.

With a surge of desperate strength, Legend squirmed but the hands only tightened around him. He didn’t have time to weigh the pros and cons; his mouth opened and a frantic stream of words tumbled out.

“Wait, WAIT! I’m not a blupee- I’m not even a magical rabbit at all! You won’t gain anything from my blood!”

The dangerous one paused, peering at Legend through his expressionless mask. “You talk?!”

“Yes, yes- I can talk, and blupees can’t talk, so you can tell that I’m not a blupee after all. Now this is all a big misunderstanding and you can let me go now-”

All three of them started to laugh, and Legend’s heart dropped.

“Let you go? After you just gave away the fact that you can talk? You may not be a blupee, but you have to be a magical bunny of some kind. We’ll find a use for your blood one way or another.” With that, he disappeared from Legend’s line of sight. Legend heard him set the vials near his hind leg, and resumed his futile thrashing.

“No- no- I’m not magical- you don’t have to do this- leave me alone- just let me GO!” Legend wailed, nails digging into the table as he scrabbled for purchase in the wood.

His head was pressed down, his jaw aching as it met the hard surface, limiting his mouth to simple vocalizations.

He couldn’t talk, he couldn’t move-

The not-Sheikah, none too gently, pushed the needle through to Legend’s bloodstream, and all he could do was scream.

Small and helpless and restrained and terrified and screaming-

It was too familiar, too real.

It lasted longer, this time.

Long enough that he almost lost his voice, only the need to express his pain and fear giving him the strength to gulp a desperate breath before continuing.

The not-Sheikah had to reposition the needle a few times, adding an extra layer of horror to the fact that he was leaving it inside for too long as he drew Legend’s blood. Legend tried to pull free, instantly regretting it as he felt the needle scrape inside his leg.

“Quit that,” one of the goons snapped.

Legend whined; it wasn’t like he was willing to try that again.

Eventually he grew lightheaded, gasping for air in between raspy cries. How much blood were they going to take?

“Don’t let go. I’ll open the cage.”

Legend whimpered as the needle was finally removed and set aside. Black spots danced in his vision when he was tossed into the cage, the jarring impact causing him to pass out from exhaustion and pain.

He was roused sometime later by the sound of panic and the smell of lightning. He winced, curling protectively around his leg. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone…

The not-Sheikah were yelling. They were so loud.

“Get out of here! This is our hideout and we’re not letting you have it! We’ve got important research in here and-”

“I’m not in the mood to argue. Either leave now, or this cave will be your grave.”

That… that wasn’t a goon’s voice.

Legend blinked his eyes open, he didn’t dare hope-

The entirety of his view beyond the cage was curtained with royal blue. A familiar scarf, Warriors’ scarf, that Legend would’ve sobbed to see if he had been physically capable of it. Legend couldn’t know if Warriors had even noticed him, and the captain kept his back to him as he presumably stared down the not-Sheikah.

Legend heard the telltale poof of smoke and paper, and saw Warriors visibly relax before taking a step away. Legend yelped and hit the bars of the cage with his paw, and Warriors froze. The captain whirled around, sword still drawn and ready for battle, and Legend cowered as Warriors took a few seconds to register that the threat was simply a bunny. No further recognition appeared in Warriors’ eyes, and Legend was suddenly reminded that he didn’t know.

…Maybe he wouldn’t have to.

Legend stayed silent, scratching at the cage again. Warriors sighed and picked at the lock, calling over his shoulder.

“They’ve got a rabbit in here. No sign of Lege, though…”

A deeper voice answered inquisitively, “A rabbit?”

Oh no. Oh no no no.

“Yes, though I’ve never seen a pink rabbit before. We can release it outside, it doesn’t deserve to go through whatever those idiots were doing to it.” Warriors pulled Legend out of the cage, gently cradling him to his chest. He turned to his companion, whose eyes widened when he saw Legend.

It was Sky. Of course it was Sky. Legend had been humiliated enough, couldn’t he at least shift back in private, where Warriors would be clueless to the fact that he was a coward and a bunny? He bared his teeth at Sky, hoping to relay that now was not a good time.

The birdbrain, unfortunately, did not receive the message. “Um, Wars? That’s… not just a bunny.”

Warriors stiffened, grip tightening around Legend. “What do you mean? Is it another disguised assassin?”

“No, no, he’s- here, let me help.” Sky held the Master Sword out, ignoring Legend’s squirming as he pressed the flat of the blade to a pink paw.

Warriors was unprepared for Legend’s sudden shift to his Hylian form, and the vet slipped out of his hold. Legend crumpled to the ground, biting back a cry of pain as the impact sent shocks of pain up his aching legs. He sat between the other heroes, head bowed and ears down, unwilling to face either of them.

“…Lege?”

Legend opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a broken whimper.

Sky was there, offering Legend a hug that he was too tired to refuse. The vet pressed his face into Sky’s shoulder to hide rising tears, feeling the velvety sailcloth wrapped around him.

“Lege, what happened? We didn’t expect them to be proficient enough with magic to turn you into a rabbit, how-?” Warriors was asking too many questions, focusing on all of the wrong things.

“T-table,” Legend gasped, and Sky repeated it more clearly. Warriors was quiet for a moment, turning back to examine the table that Legend had been pinned on earlier.

“Is this… blood?” Warriors asked, dangerously quiet.

Legend burrowed deeper into Sky’s sailcloth, not bothering to confirm what Warriors already knew.

“Yours?”

Legend whimpered, unable to stop it from turning into a sob. Sky stiffened around him and protectively pulled the sailcloth tighter.

“Sky,” Warriors said, voice shaking with the effort of keeping it steady. “Get him out of here.”

Legend felt Sky nod and shift his arms to support him as he stood. Sky sounded short of breath almost immediately, but he determinedly carried Legend out of the cave.

The click and ignition of Warriors’ borrowed fire rod echoed through the tunnel as Sky’s boots met the transition of dirt to grass. Tears stained the sailcloth, a mixture of sunlight and relief and exhaustion overwhelming Legend all at once. He was still crying when they reached camp, and his brothers rushed to offer potions and sugar and blankets.

Warriors returned soon after, the smell of burnt paper clinging to his scarf as he draped it over Legend’s shoulders. Legend buried his hands in the fabric, grateful for Warriors’ close presence and Sky’s comforting hold.

He was surrounded by his brothers, who wouldn’t let anything happen to him. Finally, Legend felt protected and safe.

[rosecentaur1916]

This counts for fictional characters who are abused too, like Jonathan Levy.

Yes, I hated Jonathan for cheating on his new girlfriend/wife. Yes, I couldn't believe he became who he was trying to break from. Sadly this is a reality for many abused spouses/partners. I'm one of the lucky ones that had broken free of the trauma bond due to strong family ties. I know its possible for this not to happen, but there is *never* a clean break for victims.

Its usually you go back and forth and back and forth before you can actually leave. I even had to. I wanted to leave my ex husband January 2019. It was mid-month and I tried! I did it the wrong way. I didn't tell my ex I'd be leaving to get space and taking our kid with me. He could have pressed charges for kidnapping. I had to go back. Then every weekend we'd come to my Moms house for the next three to four weeks. The fourth week on my birthday we left. Yes, that would have been February 2019.

There were attempts at hoovering and other such manipulations to get me back. If I didn't have my sister teaching me how to avoid the hoovering I would have fallen for it and been back in his clutches. That's what happened to Jonathan. Mira hoovered and he came back. He didn't have a support system like I did to keep him from going back. He fell for it. Simple as that.

Everything he did was in effort to survive. That means that you stoop down to your abusers level and mirror back the gaslighting, emotional manipulation, condescension, reactionary abuse, word salad, name calling, attempts at control, screaming, shouting, cursing. Its called mutual abuse at that point, and no... neither person is innocent. Its a survival mechanism. Survival isn't pretty.

You only saw him live out the end of his abusive marriage, even men are abused. Its not just women and men in same sex relationships. Straight men or men in straight presenting relationships get abused too. Jonathan is one of them. Jonathan *is* the victim. He can't have a "victim mentality" if he is a victim. He is the victim. Mira used his innocence and a medical emergency to get what she wanted from him and then further manipulated him and abused him over the duration of a decade long marriage.

So, no. He's not problematic. He's not a bad guy. He's a good guy in a bad situation who handled it poorly due to having a poor support system. Its his unconditional love and excellent treatment of Ava that shows his true colors. We never see him be mean or rough with her. We never see him take out his stress on her. We see that he moves them both into his study because after Mira callously left her husband and daughter that she can't sleep by herself. Afraid that Daddy will leave too.

We see the first morning after Mira leaves, he's ticked, hes mad, he smashes his phone and bites his hand in effort to make sure Ava doesn't wake up. Then, when she does, he's instantly gentle with her. Adopting a soft voice, eyes, and posture. The affects of a good father who is *not* being watched.

Mira is the monster, not Jonathan. We barely see her with Ava. When we do its interactions in front of other people where she has to be good and nice. Covert manipulators, like Mira, are good that. My ex husband was. My ex was always good with our kid and I in front of other people. You'd think he was the best Dad and Husband on Earth! He wasn't. He was a lying, manipulative, abusive prick. So much so I have PTSD. I bet Jonathan has it too, if not C-PTSD from what we hear about his childhood from his writings about his father in episode 3.

[slavetotheshine]

The Shiny Collection

Back in the days of Tumblr yore, there used to be a great collector. The various blogs featured rubber nuns, latex nurses, shiny maids, glossy bimbos and loads more. After they disappeared, I reached out to the collector via a common friend and as they had no intent on starting fresh I decided to pick up the mantle.

I have started light with a few (heh..) blogs that seemed to be natural categories to me. Here goes!

(The collection is in the "Keep Reading" section)

Slave To The Shine

I'm addicted to the gloss of latex. It has enthralled me for more than half my life, and I can't help myself. This is my core collection, all the great shots that don't immediately fall into one of my other categories.

BossyShine

Shiny ladies who are used to being in charge! For those that want to serve or simply seek a second in command, proper attire is shown!

CelebrityShine

Some people want to be shiny and famous. If the shiny bit is properly done, I'll swoop in like a magpie and gather it!

CorsetShine

Just a little nip at the waist… Here you'll find everything from small waist cinchers to heavy posture collars.

CostumeShine

Shiny Cosplay and Uniforms, be it movies, anime, video games, fairytales or simple tropes such as stewardess, cheerleader or military pinups.

CurvyShine

A collection of images featuring more generous curves than the standard fashion fare.

DomesticShine

Maids, matrons, domestic goddesses, house slaves, household objects and furniture, all in one great big bundle of homemaking fun!

EbonyShine

When hurtling through the rubberclad parts of Tumblrscape, an overwhelming majority of the models are white. I find that unfair, everyone looks good in the stuff! I decided to gather the wonderful shots of women of color I stumble upon, so more people can be part of the fun!

FeminineShine

Girly girls, anything pink, those that go for the bimbo aesthetic or those that simply look remarkably feminine in the moment. An homage to the mightly but lost glossybimbos, though with a bit more range.

HeavyDutyShine

Shiny stuff with a bit more heft, coverage, layers or severity. This is stuff for the serious players!

Medicalshine

Shiny nurses, rubber doctors and other fetish takes on the medical profession. Enjoy this collection of those that wish you well, as well as those who might want to drag it out just a little bit more!

MilfyShine

No need to go full frump just because TikTok wasn't a thing when you were in your teens!

PetPlayShine

While ponygirls are a clear favourite of mine, you'll also find puppies, kittens and the odd mermaid. If it's shiny pet-play and I like it, this is where I'll stash it.

PublicShine

Stop hiding the good stuff behind closed doors, get out and about like these ladies!

RestrainedShine

From heavy rubber bondage to latex-clad lovelies who are just a little bit tied up at the moment…

SmokyShine

Rubber and smoke, not nicotine gum! This combines two of my kinks into one superkink, but finding good new content is a bit of a struggle. Please let me know when you spot something!

StylishShine

This is where the lines between fetish and fashion get blurred, but when it's mostly on the fashion side of things I try to use this collection as the destination.

UnholyShine

A rubber nun's habit, a shiny hijab, occult outfits, any shiny stuff with spiritual connotations really.

VehicleShine

Girls and cars, it's such a classic combination. I've expanded the selection to anything that moves, but the clothing has to be as glossy as the paint!

SteelyShine

The only collection not focused on latex, these images are all Metal AF! Here you'll find anything steel or iron, from heavy bondage implements to collars that are more a fashion statement than fetish.

[kinzig81]

COMMISSION INFO / PRICES

Please Help

Hello,

Sorry for my lack of posts and slowness to getting back to peeps on AF.

There is currently a fatal health scare in my family, and I am scrambling to do what I can to help. Medical bills are stacking up and getting ugly and I have to assume the worst. I want to do anything I can to make money to help, my family means the world to me and has helped me through so much. My heart is breaking.

I am scared and lost, the world is at a stand still.

Although nothing is confirmed yet, we are preparing for the worst because sadly, the disease is genetic in my family. So there is a more likely chance of it being passed down. We won’t know until the end of the week. These hours of not knowing and uneasiness are killing me and I know this week will be rough and long.

I don’t want to get too much into detail, sharing info like this is not my usual and is way out of my comfort zone. I just don’t know what else to do other than desperately applying for jobs and doing one-off/temporary contracting work/assistance.

So please, if you can commission me, it would help my family in trying to avoid a huge, painful loss. It would mean the world to me.

If an art commission doesn’t interest you, I’m currently working on a canine head base. I’d be willing to make another for $75 (Price is negotiable). It would take about 4-5 days to make.

I can only ship within US, if someone is interested I will list it on Mercari (it’s just easier for me to list it there and makes sure everything goes smoothly and quickly). Shipping would be $4.99 I believe.

Check out the base on my TikTok, same handle @Kinzig81 to see my base example. Ofc, small changes I can do, like bigger ears or somethin.

This month, and this month ONLY I’m willing to negotiate prices if your a bit short on one of my listed items.

Going along with that.. all money I earn during this month-July 2024-will be put towards my family’s medical situation.

If you can’t commission me, reblogging, sharing, and liking would help me greatly.

If you have any questions about commissioning me, please don’t be scared to DM me. I’d be happy to answer and questions you have.

Commision Info:

Headshot/Bust: $3-$29

Sketch: $3

Flat: $6

Flat shade: $14

Fully Shaded: $19

Rendering: $25

Additional Character: $3

Complicated character fee: $1

HEADSHOT/BUST EXAMPLES

Half body: $5-$41

Sketch: $5

Flat Color: $8

Flat Shade: $18

Fully Shaded: $22

Rendering: $33

Additional Character: $5

Complicated character fee: $3

HALF BODY EXAMPLE

Full Body: $6-$66

Sketch: $6

Flat: $16

Flat Shade: $21

Fully Shaded: $29

Rendering: $36

Additional Character: $6

Complicated character fee: $4

Solid Color BG: Free Simple: Free

Scenery: $20 (I am new to drawing detailed backgrounds but I will do my best)

FULL BODY EXAMPLES

Simplistic Animated Pixel Icon: $30-$58

Simple Blink/Idle: $30

Additional Animation (Props, expression change, ect.): $12+

(Please let me know what you have in mind to give you a solid price) ^^

Complicated designs have an additional $6 dollar fee

(If you're not sure about your oc being complicated please feel free to ask!)

Additional character: $10

SIMPLISTIC ANIMATION ICON EXAMPLE

Sona Speech bubble/Yapper: $6

All sona speech bubbles must be a half body or headshot, if it were any bigger you wouldn’t be able to make out any details. This will be done in a more simplistic, chibi style compared to the rest of my work to make it look even better from far away or when shrunken down.

Please keep in mind it may look cruddy close up because it’s a small file, when it’s actually posted it will look fine.

(If you have an idea for something else other than a speech bubble lmk!)

SONA SPEECH BUBBLE EXAMPLE

PAGE BANNER: $45-$100

Basic banner with one to three characters and simple/solid color background: $45-$55

Four or more characters with a simple/solid color background: $55-$75

One to three characters in a scenery: $75-$85

Four or more characters in a scenery: $85-$100

This is all just an estimate so please DM me for a proper quote <3

WANT SOMETHING ELSE FROM ME?

Want something else from me but don’t see it on this price sheet? No worries, DM me for a Quote!

( Ref sheets, Fursuit badge, etc )

WHAT I CAN AND CAN NOT DO

I have the right to refuse a commission if I am not comfortable or feel like I won’t be able to complete what you are asking.

I CAN DO:

☆ Suggestive

☆ Ponies

☆ Furries / Anthro or Feral / Digi or Planigrade

☆ Monsters

I CANT DO:

☆ NSFW

☆ Mecha

☆ Humans

Payment Info:

I take Venmo or Cash App, You will have to pay me in full before I start to work on your piece. I will send progress shots and will not move further with the work until I get a confirmation to keep going.

DM me here on tumblr or over on Instagram to get your quote <3

No refunds.

( I’m so sorry for any sort of typos or errors, this is just a placeholder commissions sheet and will be replaced with a nicer one at some point )

[heroesoath]

Realized that some people might not be familiar with my muses, and what they can do, so here's a cheat sheet for my mutant muses specifically. I can write about the non-mutants at a later date!

alex.

Alex has the mutant power to absorb energy, though more specifically radiation and shit from the cosmos like sunlight. His body stores this energy where he can later expel it in a blue or yellow colored plasma form in blasts, waves, and other means.

I personally think that when he stores too much energy his body can become overheated. It starts with a burning sensation in his hands and it spreads, it's why he constantly has to shoot plasma every so often. Alex has a long history of not being able to control his powers, the goofy original costume with the eggbeaters on the mask and the black spandex was created so he could control his powers more easily because they are dangerous! He can essentially be a walking atom bomb if he's not careful.

dani.

Dani's powers have evolved over time, but originally they were seen as the telepathic ability to create illusions based on people's greatest fears. They have since been expanded on so that she can create illusions based on anything, and they can become physical constructs. A popular illusion she can make are psionic arrows, since she's a gifted archer.

I want to point out that Dani's powers were originally VERY tropey, she's Cheyenne and Claremont literally said let's make her a literal Dreamcatcher. it's iffy and it needed to be addressed. Another tropey ability she has is her rapport with animals, but I now associate this more with her telepathic gifts rather than it being a separate thing.

Dani can read minds, but it's not something that's easy, she tends to stick to her illusion based powers and archery in combat.

jamie.

Jamie has the power to create duplicates of himself! Originally this was an extremely hard power to control, and like Alex, he had to wear a special suit to help keep control. Since those days however, Jamie has had the smart idea of sending his duplicates out into the world and doing things, whether it be attend college, medical school, law school, become an olympian, his duplicates have done a lot of things and Jamie would eventually find them and reabsorb them, retaining their knowledge and skills they have obtained. The ethics of his powers have been discussed not only in the comics, but by fans alike. It's an interesting question if Jamie's duplicates have autonomy since so many of them have different personalities ( all parts of Jamie's overall personality ).

When Jamie needs to fight, he'll just create a bunch of dupes, he's a one man army and there's something unsettling about seeing a clone army coming at you. Luckily for him though, Jamie tends to just use his powers for passive reasons, like when he is a detective or more recently a scientist on Krakoa.

jean.

Jean is a telepath and a telekinetic. I'm not going to get into her omega level status, she's extremely powerful and that's great and all, but people who focus on that aspect of her bore me to tears so I won't subject anyone to that either. She's good at what she does, she can move things with her mind, read people's thoughts, lots of shit with her brain.

Jean is also the host of the Phoenix Force, a cosmic being whose exact nature has flipped back and forth based on the writer, but it seems that they are moving back to the original intent of the force from Chris Claremont's brain. The Phoenix is Jean's power, and it's uniquely tied to her and her bloodline alone. She's the cosmic firebird of all creation and life, it's wild, it's terrifying, and it's fun. I'll probably write more about this once Jean's new solo comic comes out.

julian.

Julian is a telekinetic. He probably has the most simple powers of my entire mutant cast ( along with Piotr ) , he can move things with his mind and fly. His powers manifest as a green light, not unlike the Green Lantern Corps of DC fame.

His powers are not overly powerful, he's not on like Jean or Rachel Grey's level, but Emma Frost did unlock his potential when Julian flew across the United States at the sound of light in order to save Laura from dying. After this event his powers began to be very finicky, but they seemed to have stabled out.

I remain on the side that he's not ultra powerful, but in moments of distress or when he needs to save someone he can tap into the part of his brain that controls his power levels and manifest a higher control. It's rare though and when he does he ends up in a light coma for a few days to heal.

piotr.

Piotr has the power to shift his skin into steel. He grows in size and becomes extremely strong in this form.

He's a perfect defensive wall, he can crash through things, throw things ( and friends ) and do probably untold damage to most things. It's probably the most interesting thing about him from his original introduction in the 70's. He's the team's bruiser and tank and yet the duality with his soft and gentle personality makes for an interesting take on the "big guy" trope.

[interroblog]

(a colored sketch of four characters. from left to right there’s Gene who has dyed green hair and an orange jacket, Casper who has long flowing hair and pale skin, Saint who wears round sunglasses and a simple T shirt, and Tab who has curly orange hair and snakebite piercings.)

(tumblr compressed the hell out of this, click for higher quality)

It’s far past time to introduce the main characters for the moon book (intro) so I can finally talk about them! I’ll be sharing plenty more about them as I develop the story now, but here’s some basics for now.

Saint 🌙 19, he/him, 4w5, ENFP, the protagonist!

Saint has a rich creativity and passion for storytelling. He loves to play piano and sing, the latter of which he’s supernaturally good at. He’s not very talkative and doesn’t share his stories often, but whenever he does there’s a gravity to his voice that pulls listeners in.

Saint’s best and only friends are Tab and Gene, but sometimes he feels like they’re just humoring him. He feels like an outsider around anyone except himself.

Because of a medical condition, Saint has periods where his senses are dulled to the point where he can’t perceive the outside world. So he turns inward. That’s what caused him to have such a weak sense of belonging, as well as surround himself with stories.

Tab 🪐 19, they/them, 3w2, ESTJ 🏳️‍⚧️

Tab loves academia and used to excel in every class- until their senior year. They’ve got a great memory and will happily learn and repeat back information all day, but the second the advanced classes they took got into more abstract ideas, they started failing. They can be inflexible, stubborn, and a bit blunt, but damn if they don’t get things done.

Now they’re retaking their senior year, which has ruined their hopes of getting into a good college. That was, until they met Casper who got them into the supernatural and ghosthunting… if they can find concrete proof of the things that exist beyond earth, they’d be able to get into whatever college they want.

Tab has a lot of friends that come and go, but the closest to their heart are Saint and Gene. They also have a rotating cast of passions, but their most consistent are history and guitar- which they learned to spend more time with their friends by starting a band.

Gene 💫 17, he/him, 9w8, INFP 🏳️‍⚧️

For most of his life, Gene has neatly fit into the persona of a quiet nerdy academic that the world projected onto him. But as he’s growing up, he’s starting to realize it doesn’t fit as well anymore. He’s an idealist with strong values, and a deep optimism + compassion. He’s young, he’s still growing into himself! He wants to change the world!

Now he’s just been accepted into a fancy college that’s sure to lead to a promising tech career. The only problem is, it’s across the country and he’s starting to feel a growing unease about leaving his friends behind to sit behind a desk taking orders from a boss for the rest of his life.

Gene adores his brother, Saint, and he’s been friends with Tab since they were kids. He plays the drums in their band and follows Tab around on all their adventures.

Casper ⚡️ 22, he/her, 7w6, ???? 🏳️‍⚧️

Casper is a high energy person who loves to experience new things, meet new people, do everything she can regardless of how good of an idea it may be. He’s always doing something with his hands; that means fiddling around with technology and more recently, crocheting.

After getting to a bad accident, Casper’s soul left her body. But before her body died, it replaced that soul with a rogue bit of cosmic dust that was similar enough to work as a replacement. He’s doing his best to recover as fast as possible so he can go back to his normal life, but it’s becoming harder and harder to pretend that’s an option. Casper isn’t able to do many of the things she used to, she doesn’t even feel like the same person anymore…

Meanwhile, the person that became her new soul isn’t pleased about this situation, either. Being stuck in a body is horribly limiting, their similar feelings of frustration bleed together and make the separation of the two even harder to maintain. But that’ll all be fine if they just ignore it :’)

Powehi 🌟???, it, 7w6

Powehi is an alien, the intangible manifested consciousness of humanity’s collective voice. It dives from body to body, seeing the world through earthling eyes until it stayed too long in Casper’s dying body and was trapped. It thinks very highly of itself and the things it can do, so to be condensed down to such a limiting form is… difficult. It’s mostly been sulking and ignoring everything.

Saint is its favorite earthling, so it blessed him with a piece of its power and visits him in his dreams. It hasn’t been able to do that recently, and even though Saint doesn’t realize Powehi is more than a figment of his imagination, he cares for it and is starting to get worried.

Powehi never had a name before meeting Saint, it’s usually just called the Voice.

[kyngsnake]

Snippet *Sunday

Or, well. Technically snippet Monday now. Tagged by @bleumanouche, thank you Bleu!

No pressure tags: @druidgroves @hotwifeluigi @bigfan-fanfic

Grabbed this snippet from a scene in which Wes and Avery are 19 & 18 and in the aftermath of a falling out with each other. Both of them cope with their emotions poorly at this age. Avery does it more violently. Wes is the patron saint of repression. I have a lot of fun writing scenes while these two are younger because it really shows how much they've grown by the time they're 30.

And as always Wes belongs to @hotwifeluigi

And so Avery gets himself a shot. And another, and another, and another. 

The more Avery drinks the louder he gets, the louder he gets the more other bar patrons want to drink with him. It’s all jovial celebration but it’s a thinly veiled vicious cycle, smiles and laughter encourage poisoning the well. A cheap excuse to justify the means of self-medication, still, to everyone but Avery he’s having a lovely night. And who could blame them? It’s New Years, ain’t no threat in having a good time.

The momentum carries up to a finite point; Avery exists in a state of perpetually teetering over a ledge. All it takes is one nudge and he’ll tumble, push finds its shove when a man built like a bull decides faggot is a good way to describe the way Avery talks. 

One black eye, a busted lip and two sets of bloodied knuckles later, Avery finds himself on the curb outside. His saving grace was the firm belief that fighting dirty is fair game if an opponent really deserves it, dropping slurs in a bar meets that qualifier. They both got kicked out of the bar when it really came down to it, but Avery’s content with knowing that motherfucker took a boot heel to the balls. 

Avery spits to his side, saliva marbled with blood colors a small spot in the dirt. He grunts, sighs from behind his teeth and lifts a cigarette to his lips. The orange glow briefly fills the dark night air, Avery perks up when he hears the door open behind him. 

“What the hell were you thinkin’ pullin’ a stunt like that?” Even while drunker than a cow on a diet of fermented corn he’d recognize Wes’s voice. Oh, so now he can tolerate being near Avery. 

“Dude had it comin’,” Avery says with all the nonchalance in the world.

Wes stands over him with his hands on his hips. Avery tilts his head up and back to stare at him, he can’t help but smirk a little when he gets a good look at that pursed-lip, low-browed expression. He carries a similar cadence to a horse with his ears all pinned back. Careful, he might kick.

“How d’you figure he had it comin’? I watched the whole damn thing from the other side’a the bar, far as I know he mighta just looked atcha wrong and you took a swing,” Wes uses one hand to make frustrated, vague gestures as he talks, “Which, if I’m bein’ quite honest, Mr. Moreno, I wouldn’t put such a thing past you.”

Avery takes another slow inhale off his cigarette. Flicks the ashes into the dirt, mixing with his spit like gold flakes in resin. “Call me a faggot, get your teeth busted out. It’s as simple as that.”

“Oh,” Wes breathes as his expression cools to something a grade calmer. He stands there statuesque for a short spell, evidently unsure just what to say. He clears his throat and adds, “I guess it’s for the best then that you uh, you stood up for yourself.”

Standing over Avery while he’s sat there on the curb, Avery decides he should invite Wes to do anything other than loom. “Want a smoke?” He says as he pulls one from the pack he has in his coat pocket.

“No, that’s a’right,” Wes declines and Avery isn’t sure if the feeling cropping up in his chest immolates or if it’s so cold that it burns, somewhere in the back of his head he’d hoped Wes would sit with him out here. “I had somebody waitin’ for me back inside. Just wanted to see what’d happened with you.”

 Avery finds that he has nothing to say, silence lingers between them until Wes opens his mouth again.

“You plan on comin’ back in anytime?” Wes asks.

“Nope,” Avery responds simply, cigarette held up to his mouth.

“A’right. You make it back to the room safe then, okay?” Wes’s voice sounds so strained that Avery could almost mistake his tone for guilt. He makes it a few feet closer to the door before he pauses— again— hesitating seems to be a skill he’s gotten good at. “Want me to walk back with you?”

“Nope,” he lies through his teeth. 

[shallowrambles]

When I say that there are so so so so so soooo many ways to be an outsider, I mean that purity is very much associated with illness, too. In modern times, and with all our medical advances, I feel like this is often goes unexamined. But illness is and WAS frequently most associated with the concept of "impurity." (See: leprosy) It's not all down to "queer" and behavior, though impure behavior IS often seen as a sign of "feeble-mindedness." So like, that's what I mean when I say I'm interested in the class stuff, too...especially for Sam. It's easy to forget that ILLNESS and afflictions were often BLAMED on the victims, especially when they were from a perceived lower class. In face, illness is STILL blamed on the victims—if only they tried harder, ate better, exercised more. Something something "People of Walmart."

It doesn't matter that illness is attenuated by environmental dumping grounds for goddamned corporations... or the plain ole' hazard of having a complex immune system that responds to and can be damaged by... various bacteria and viruses. It doesn't matter that de novo mutations exist, or that you can STILL get rare illnesses even when your interbreeding coefficient is SUPER low.

If you're low class, and you have any kind of illness, mental or physical, throughout history, the higher classes bend over backward to blame that ailment on SOMETHING YOU OR YOUR PARENTS *MUST* HAVE DONE. And Sam's scapegoating and suspicion of his family background, his obsession with *clean eating* and *purity* is so so soooooo chronic-illness coded. Sam is so beautifully coded to feeling mentally neurodivergent and not really grasping why, also due to being homeless, feeling "different" from others and, and wanting to blame it on *something" CONCRETE.

It's, like, IMPOSSIBLE not to run into this whole idea in chronic illness communities. You search it up or hang around the spaces for two minutes, and you WILL run headlong into *clean eating.* And *low inflammatory diets.* Etc etc. You'll find medical quacks and homeopaths searching valiantly for "ROOT CAUSE," like illness and behavior are UNIVARIATE and can be "discovered and fixed" instead of MULTIVARIATE and often not simple or even really fixable.

And not for nothing, but Sam's fixation on these themes just... it dovetails so nicely with a person who struggles to succeed and is constantly looking for and retooling his background and even his own memories to explain away his own "failure to fly." I look on his "maybe I always knew I was impure and couldn't go on a big quest" as him sort-of retooling his life's story to deal with the new information he's discovering about himself, and I do have some suspicions that it's... hmmm. Not a retroactive re-explanation, you know?

And so when I say, I love this aspect of Sam, I mean I love it because it just ties so beautifully with his journey to me. From the PDF above:

My analysis of white elites’ use of the concept of feeblemindedness to signify tainted whiteness requires understanding the social construction of cognitive dis/ability. To say that cognitive dis/ability is socially constructed is not to say that there are no differences between people’s intellectual abilities. But just as we have come to understand that gender does not refer exclusively to reproductive organs and that race cannot be simply reduced to skin color, so cognitive dis/ability does not refer solely to cognitive skills. Cognitive dis/ability reflects a history, a dynamic set of discourses and practices, and what people with power in a particular society at a particular point in time believe (or

I sometimes feel like that this whole concept also works because Sam and Dean are also identified for certain kinds of "work" by the angels. That is, certain kinds of bodies were "perfect vessels for labor," stratified by their perceived abilities. That they are prevented from settling down and used instead as workhorses fits with what the narrative does, killing their love interests and progeny, WHILE selling them the idea of being special and doing a great service to society.

When Dean cheats it and creates a family that lives with him IN his work, oh boy. That triggers some major rage from fans and The Network(TM). How dare Dean create a family, despite the work he needs to do?

Cognitive dis/ability reflects a history, a dynamic set of discourses and practices, and what people with power in a particular society at a particular point in time believe (or want others to believe) about the nature and meaning of intellect.

The eugenics agenda also included the prevention of miscegenation, which is, to put it bluntly, interracial relationships. I find this a stronger metaphor for the Nephilim family and Jack, wherein when he becomes sick, his "interracialness" becomes the reason.

///

Anyway, that Sam struggles with this isn't wholly his fault. When you try to better yourself, you rub up against SUCH hatred from elites, even for community colleges, and it is astounding, really. Even characters like Dean instinctively poo-poo on lower "class," like low-wage gas station jobs. It's a bit of a hazard of being alive and living in a society.

And it's like, spiralling all the way from, Leviathan to angels, angels to humans, humans to monsters (and animals). Etc etc.

Goddard continued, and they were “frequently able to talk fluently; their conversation while marked by poverty of thought or even silliness nevertheless commonly passes as the result of ignorance. . . . So strong is their resemblance to the normal person that . . . there are many people even today who refuse to admit that they cannot be trained to function as normal people” (1914, 4–5).

Mark Rapley’s work (2004) illustrates this point. In a recent study, he examines how people who consider themselves to be cognitively able frequently perceive others as cognitively deficient based on misperceptions of the latter’s communication modes. When people who consider themselves to be cognitively able cannot understand another easily or follow his thought processes, or when he does not give the answers they expect to their questions, they often leap to the conclusion that there is something wrong with him. They often “give up” on understanding him entirely, believing that he is unable to communicate effectively due to his deficit. Yet if they recognized how they fail to communicate with him—by not adapting themselves to his mode of communication, his language use, or his pace—they might find that communication is possible after all.

I think this is why Cas trying to understand Dean's silly little references is so special to me. He could have dismissed it as "silly humans being concerned with human-centered references," but as time got on, he makes an effort to understand him and communicate.

EDIT: That's a lot of words to say that WHEN the narrative hits you with an incest joke or incestuous "anxiety," you should first ask if it's making a joke about a "perceived" lack of class, especially when those words are coming out of elite mouths (i.e. Zachariah). OF NOTE, The Scots-Irish were pinned as "in need of sterilization," WHICH is why Rowena and Crowley also get this flavor of anxiety within the narrative, too. (SEE: When Crowley walks in on Rowena naked in season 10, when he puts her in chains in season 11.) It's why Gabriel crash-lands into Cas's crotch WHEN he specifically loses his powers and is "dropping down a class." It's why Crowley has the background he does. He styles himself BRITISH, but his background is SCOTTISH. The Sam-Rowena-Crowley triad of ambition has these bones FUNDAMENTALLY built into it!

Rowena would have done ANYTHING for education and power in witchcraft. It's WHY SHE WAS IMPURE/DIRTY in Regarding Dean:

CAT: I remember you – a rag doll all huddled up on our doorstep. I swore I could see the fleas nibbling away at whatever the hell was left of that dirty little body of yours. And still... still, you thought you were worthy of our magic. Rowena watches her coming down the stairs. Cat gets to the bottom and stands facing Rowena. Rowena turns to face Cat as Cat step closer to her taunting her. CAT: And when we disagreed... Oh... how you begged, how you threw yourself down and... offered yourself to each of us. Rowena closes her eyes, trying to contain her anger. Cat makes a disgusted face at her. CAT: Boyd almost took you up on it, too. But I told him, it would be cleaner with the pigs.

It's more about the viewers, the people in power, and their "natural" prejudices IMHO.