#im tagging as this now so its easier to find

[bonefall]

the ShadowClan talk made me look through Brokenstar's BB Tags, and. a) is Lizardstripe still related to Finchflight, if you are keeping Finch-Dawn as a couple (with Dawncloud's age redux)? b) i keep seeing stuff about Snowtuft and killing kits, but i cant find anything actually detailing on that on the blog, and one of the older posts also mentions that Blizzardwing is either his son/grandson AND that Lizardstripe's mother was the kit he couldn't kill. what is all that about, im dying to know.

This is info that's scattered across a bunch of different posts, plus more deets and changes I haven't had a chance to dive into. Snowtuft committed an atrocity which would torment his victims and descendants for generations, for both its legacy and its trauma.

SO I wanna put as much of it as possible into one place for now, so you don't have to go guessing based on older posts. Especially since some of those posts are long outdated, but I haven't contradicted them yet.

To start the story of the two families, it begins with Snowtuft and the bloody end of the Crusade Era.

CONTENT WARNING; this is one of BB's darkest tales. It involves depictions of xenophobic violence, child murder, war crime, PTSD, abuse, and kidnapping. BB!Snowtuft's a bad kitty!

SEE: Kitten Stealing

(Also: After writing it out, I kinda realized this would be great as a BB entry on its own. I should come back and clean this up someday.)

PART 1: THE LAST CRUSADE

Cedarstar inherited the Crusades from Houndstar, continuing them more out of respect for her legacy than true zealotry.

He had actually been chosen as a deputy because he would run the Clan while she was off gallavanting.

He wasn't a pushover or anything, just prefered logistics. Him and Pinestar were tragically ahead of their time.

...but like other cats of his time, he was from a culture that didn't extend personhood beyond the Clans. So, he continued the Crusades.

Even though they weren't getting easier.

Crystal of Chelford had already used a new tool to carve a red future for the cats of the town...

and what were once defenseless little targets began to unite into organized, armed response teams.

Non-BloodClan "zones" got rarer and rarer.

The territory and underlings of an influential cat named Jay were among the last holdouts, so it's where most of ShadowClan's raids were launched.

And on one of these raids... it happened fast.

Snowtuft turned an alley and was ruthlessly attacked. He defended himself.

In the confusion, another assailant ran towards him. He acted swiftly.

It was reflex! Instinct! He couldn't tell what was coming at him. It was a split second decision.

He couldn't undo what had happened. The kitten was dead, next to its mother.

And the others were screaming, crying, terrified.

Snowtuft doesn't remember what he did next. He doesn't want to.

But Puffballburr does.

She used to see it every night.

She remembers her name, too-- Pixie. And her mom. And her littermates.

And the look that washed over his eyes when he realized the ragged flesh at his feet was a kitten.

Raw shock, electrifying shame, the dawning horror of knowing you've definitely done something that you're going to get punished for.

And when his white, blood-splattered face turned slowly towards her and her wailing siblings, she recognized that emotion too.

It's a very childlike response, really.

He needed to cover up his accident.

And he almost did, too. It was dumb luck that stopped him as he grabbed her tail and dragged her out from her hiding place. One of his clanmates heard the awful racket, and Pixie had survived just long enough.

PART 2: ONE OF US

They took her away, just like any other "honor kitten," but the Clan cats believed this was different somehow.

Something about the naked horror of what Snowtuft did, maybe. Impossible to ignore.

But it's not like he faced any real justice for it, not that Puffballkit could remember seeing. So clearly it wasn't very different at all.

His mate left him, and the older warriors regarded him with a distant sort of "shame." He was ostracized from many circles.

But Puff's siblings had not been "clan cats" so the Warrior Code did not apply to them. He faced social dishonor, not legal.

Ever-merciful Cedarstar did not want to "ruin" more lives.

"Not when the kit is far too young to even remember what happened," he said. But she did remember.

And her name. Her mom. Her littermates. That face.

She just knew, growing up, that she couldn't know about it.

Because Snowtuft was always right there, just around the curve of the den, just behind the cover of the rose bush thorns, listening.

They're ALL Snowtuft.

To admit she remembers it is to admit she isn't one of them. And if you're not one of them, the law does not apply to you.

As a kid, she couldn't articulate it. But she understood it.

Deep down to her brittle, kittypet bones. Her filthy, stillwater blood.

The ungrateful heart that beat in her chest.

Fear expressed as a constant, calm obedience of authority. A permanent dread, as if living in a pack as a sheep in wolf's clothing

So she was quiet, notoriously so.

Whoever her foster was, Puff was like a little white shadow. It's where the warrior name came from, eventually-- a puffball clinging to someone's fur. (after writing this though, half of me wants to start calling her Lambfur or Lambfrost.)

ShadowClan plunged into the Campaign Era with Heatherstar's invasion of the Mothermouth Moorland, and the massacre of some kittypet family became awkward history. Those old enough to remember still kept a distance from Snowtuft... but war took its toll.

War means death and those older members of the Clan are not replaceable.

Younger cats weren't there to see the horror of what Snowtuft had done... and time would make him bolder.

Finding growing sympathy in his apprentices, spurred on by the hardening of the culture in tandem with the official birth of Thistle Law, Snowtuft started to change history.

The official Educator of ShadowClan (still unsure who this was) had one story, and Snowtuft had one too.

"Details" were quietly changed in his. They weren't "kits" but "young cats." They charged out to aid their mother. Then maybe she wasn't their mother. Who knows.

Pullball's name was left out of these stories, on both sides. No need for the kittens to know that she wasn't one of us.

And if she was? That's a good thing for her. Living the life of a Clan cat.

He wouldn't share if "he wasn't asked," but all of his actions, his language, was a silent plea to be asked.

He wanted to forget the whole thing, because of his nightmares, his constant shame and punishment, how hard the whole ordeal made his life-- but he couldn't so it was constantly coming out of his mouth.

There was a deep resentment on his end, towards Puffballburr. How she was part of the Clan now, always reminding him. Like it was her fault.

In the end, Snowtuft didn't blame himself. He blamed everything else. The guilt was killing him a little bit every day...

But not as much as that WindClan cat's claws did. Those killed him a lot in one day!

But Snowtuft's death didn't bring Puffballburr any peace. She just felt... annoyed. Which was strange to her-- she should feel relief, but, she didn't. She was just thinking about how the next battle with WindClan would be harder without an extra set of claws.

PART 3: GOING HOME

Puffballfur is the queen of low empathy, and her emotions are... hard to predict.

Not in a chaotic sort of way, but in a "Huh, interesting, I didn't think that of all things would get me going" sort of way.

She both lives in constant "fear" but also a persistent banality. It's kind of like being in a cage with a chained tiger, but you've marked the exact spot on the floor where the tiger's chain ends.

Imagine getting nightmares that stop you from sleeping, but you know that they aren't going to come true. So you lay there with a throbbing heart, mostly feeling annoyed that you're going to be tired in the morning.

That's her life.

Sometimes when she couldn't sleep, she'd roll on her back in the nest and critique the assassination attempt in her mind.

Did he think his dumb plan through? Or did he just react without thinking? It was going to be obvious he killed a bunch of kids, whether she survived or not.

Or maybe he would have just said that the rogue killed her own kits to prevent them from becoming Clan cats. They'd probably believe that.

Either way it was sloppy. Could have had more kits if he didn't kill her sibs.

She had connections within the Clan. A foster, hunting buddies, apprentice. She was kind to them, especially when they were useful. But...

It feels like she's not like them. Like they have variables to their behavior that she doesn't. Drives and desires that are pointless, sometimes even frustrating.

Like the concept of "honor." Ridiculous. Every single person who talks about it is hypocritical about it in some way, and it causes unnecessary fights in the camp and on the border because of ridiculous ego.

She just performs it because the other cats value it-- and when people like you, you get what you want.

I'm not sure who her mate was, or if it was even just one. In any case, when she found herself pregnant, she declared Queen's Rights. I feel like she might have had a fling with someone, but got annoyed by their clingy behavior.

When her daughters were born, Bracketkit and Lizardkit, she felt pride.

Because... they didn't belong to someone else. They weren't even really ShadowClan's. They were hers.

For the first time since her mother and littermates had been taken away from her, she felt like she was looking at family. People who would always be with her.

But that didn't last...

...because a chance encounter only a few moons later reconnected her with someone who remembered her.

Not a littermate, but an older sister. Marmalade. She couldn't believe that Pixie was alive.

This is a WIP zone because I'm not sure, yet, if I'm keeping Hal's attack on ShadowClan. In any case, they continued to reconnect for moons.

The fact that she was remembered, that she could talk openly about what happened, and that Marmalade wanted her and her kittens to come home made Puffballburr's stomach flutter with excitement. She felt valuable.

And with the war getting worse and worse, this was absolutely the best choice for her kittens as well. They would be safer with BloodClan than they would with ShadowClan.

No longer would she be Puffballburr. Her name was Pixie.

ENTER: LIZARDSTRIPE

Puffballburr wasn't a bad mother, but it would feel a lot better to be Lizardstripe if she could have the simplicity to just say she was.

Her earliest memories of her mom and her sibling were outside of the camp on a cool, clear spring night, laying in soft marshgrass. Puff was laying on her back with her hind legs bowed out, a kit tucked under each paw, pressed to her fluffy, warm chest. Her face was turned upward, quietly, at the moon, as her daughters slept peacefully.

She's not sure how long after she'd opened her eyes that this memory took place, but Lizardkit looked up towards the bright, starry sky... and she remembered that the light hurt.

Her needs were always taken care of, but Puffballburr hated explaining things.

You learned quick to treat your questions like a valuable resource, and to listen carefully.

Lizardkit was sharp, much sharper than her sister. She caught onto the way that her mother viewed relationships in a very transactional sort of way-- and stayed aware of her balance.

And had to consider the cost of doing the things her mother was fond of, versus what the other kittens and queens in the nursery expected of her.

What Puffball didn't realize when her children were born was that they were family, but they were also ShadowClan. Even if this was not something she had ever felt a connection to.

Deep down, it didn't truly click with her that her children were not extensions of herself.

And when Lizardkit was a child, learning history from the Educator and getting involved in more of the Clan's goings-on, Puffballburr spent less and less time with her. Because she was reconnecting with Marmalade.

When Bracket and Lizard had their apprentice ceremony, Puffballburr was not there.

Lizardpaw's mentor was the infamously powerful, chaotic fighter, Finchflight. Bracketpaw was assigned to Brackenfoot. (There is an earlier post suggesting that Lizi and Finf were going to be related. I decided to make them mentor/apprentice instead.)

Finchflight immediately began to stress the importance of loyalty. Being one of the younger cats who had sympathized with Snowtuft and knowing the secret behind Puffballburr's beginnings, he nurtured a pain within Lizardstripe. Encouraged her to let the distance between her and her family grow.

Eventually, Puffball told her children that they were going to leave ShadowClan. They had family in the town, would be safe there, could start a brand new life together.

And Lizardpaw was shocked.

It was like everything Finchflight had said was true.

And they were going to leave her.

She reacted violently to the suggestion, attacking her mother. Told them that she was going to expose them, lead a patrol right back to their new hiding place, bring them "back home."

In defense of Puffballburr, Bracketpaw brawled with her sister. They fought viciously, until their mother separated them with a desperate, devastating whack to Lizardpaw's head.

Laying dazed on the ground, she heard an apology before passing out.

When she woke up, she was safely protected within a blackthorn bush-- with a nick on the outside of her ear.

She stayed out there for hours, not knowing what to do, where her family had gone, or what she was going to say when she got home.

But, looking at her reflection in a puddle of water, she became so angry at the idea of this being her first scar that she ripped the other ear, on the opposite side.

When the search party found her, they asked what had happened to her. If she had seen her mother or her sister, or if something had gone wrong.

"Nah. Took a nap to get away from them. Ripped my ears on the thornbush."

Later, when she would be interrogated or questioned by people she didn't want to lie to, she would tell a half-truth;

"I did it to myself. Liked how it looked. Last I saw of Puffballburr and Bracketpaw, they were upset I'd done it and left, so I took a nap."

She didn't mind that her Clanmates thought this was weird. She didn't care about whispers that it was all done for attention, or that it was dishonorable to do such a thing and they probably met a predator after storming off, and she didn't even mind the gossip guessing at the "real" reason behind her ripped ears.

The only people who ever got the whole truth were the Forget-Me-Nots. After their disappearance, Lizardstripe didn't talk about her family for years, insisting upon having no further details. Even if it meant that mystery and suspicion would hang around her like a cloud.

BLIZZARDWING: KIN OF SNOWTUFT

Snowtuft's daughter was named Lilyfur. She was a kit when her father slaughtered Pixie's family.

When her mother left her father, she also distanced herself from him. This was something Snowtuft was outraged and saddened by.

But Lilyfur's mother couldn't stand the idea of a kitten-killer trying to stay close to her daughter. How could he look at little babies, the same age as his own child, and kill them?

Lilykit grew up very conflicted. She remembered how much she loved her dad, understood that he was a kitten murderer, but he continued to be so kind to her into adulthood.

It was hard to think of him as someone who could do something so horrible.

Earlier draft had Lilyfur die and her kittens were raised by their kin, Snowtuft, but I'm currently leaning towards Lilyfur being alive but just letting him be an active part of their lives-- in spite of her discomfort.

Because the more time he spent in her life, paradoxically, the more obsessed he became with all the "time he lost out on."

Which ended up including entertaining a lot of conversations about how he'd never done anything wrong, ever, and everyone was mean to him.

Lilyfur: "ok maybe he's not evil but my dad is really annoying <:/ but he's really lonely. He needs me. and i cant take him away from his grandkits"

From this, what Blizzardwing absorbed was the idea that love and forgiveness was always tolerating your family no matter what. This would express itself in his toxic relationship with Hollyflower.

But Blizzardwing now has a sibling. I haven't settled on a name yet-- but I'm playing with him either being Angelshade or Silkflower.

I really like the name "Angelshade" as a reference to the notoriously deadly white mushroom, the Destroying Angel. But also. someone in the audience asked if I could give the prefix "angel" to a cat because it's their name, and I feel a little bad about giving it to a character who is going to be one of the nastiest little background characters in all of BB lmaooooo

i'm so sorry angel (positive), is it okay if there's an angel (derogatory)

ANYWAY, Untitled Blizzardwing Sibling grew up adoring his grandpaw.

Radicalization can be a slow creep. He loved peepaw, so if he was asked when he was young, he would happily repeat the adjusted version of history he was taught.

And then when Snowtuft died, he wanted to remember him fondly. The story slowly changed, becoming more "accurate," just getting more comfortable with the idea of dehumanizing outsiders.

So what, if he killed some kittypet? And if some kits had already been indoctrinated into their kittypet life? It was still a gain for ShadowClan, in the end.

One summer day, without warning, he came home with two little kittens. One was white, one was brown, both had the pinkish tinge of poorly cleaned blood.

He grinned playfully at Brokenstar, and claimed Queen's Rights in a singsong tone.

Because of that rite, no one could ask where he'd gotten those kittens from. But everyone knew he'd done something grim.

Those kits, Whitewater and Brownstone, grew up under the crescendo of Brokenstar's reign, both taking part in the WindClan Massacre.

Whitewater's bloody story includes joining Mudclaw's Rebellion, giving birth to three kits, a souring relationship with her son, condemnation to the Dark Forest, ends in the Battle of the True Eclipse after killing her grandson.

Brownstone's tale includes a relationship with a WindClan cat during the bloodiest period in the history of their two Clans.

And their father's story ends in Chelford, after being exiled from ShadowClan by Nightstar. His canon counterpart is the Unnamed White Rogue from Rise of Scourge, who tries to order Scourge to be his personal servant.

(the other two cats are Braketail, the "Offbrand Brokenstar" pale tabby, and Pirateheart, the gray rogue with green eyes. Glitch Warriors for the pile!)

[audliminal]

It's Just a Game, Right? Pt 9

Masterpost

"Well, it certainly looks like your suspicions were correct." Tim says, staring at the decoded response, as Bernard posts the plain text.

"Yeah, it definitely looks like it, huh? This is practically an entire clue drop in and of itself."

"I mean, it kind of is. If they wanted to encourage us, al they really would've needed is to parrot themselves with the 'dig deeper' thing you said you kept finding."

"Ha, yeah that would've been a little more succinct." Bernard laughs, and turns back towards Tim as he finishes typing. "So what else is it meant to do, then?"

"Well, on one level it shows us how the clues are supposed to be solved." Tim says, pointing to the steps they'd gone through. "In the future, we should be looking for the keys to each step in the solution of the prior step."

"They can't just do that every time, though. It'd get too predictable.

"Maybe not every time, but it definitely gives us a better idea of where to start."

"Yeah, I guess it can't hurt to look. Anything else, Mr. Genius?"

"I'm not a genius."

"You totally are, but whatever. Tell me more of your mad science thinking."

"Not a mad scientist either. I think we need to start looking at whether individual details are intended to be taken literally or metaphorically."

"Oh." Bernard blinks, then glances over at his computer.

"Did you think of something?" Tim asks. The implications of the response are sprawling by itself, but if the contents are referencing something Bernard's already seen...

"Well, it's just. The first video was pictures, right? And people take photos of stuff they wanna remember so, like. To be seen is to be remembered?"

"That... Makes sense." Tim murmurs.

"Yeah, but it doesn't explain what the rest is about."

"One step at a time. If the people in the first video are our messengers, and they're concerned with being remembered, then I think we should be looking for more information on who they are."

"Right. So I should pull out the clues that reference them, and we can go over those next?

"Sounds like a plan."

[sebastian-s0lace]

Forgot to pozt it BUT! I finizhed my ink demon drawing i originally did a few monthz ago but only recently decided to do the background [for easier reading; Forgot to post it BUT! I finished my ink demon drawing i originally did a few months ago but only recently decided to do the background)

[kiniism]

i had a vision and the vision was pixelated morgan fire emblem in some sort of life sim anyway hope you agree <3

[impostorsshow]

I'm thinking about my 7 year old oc again

My "little" rant is below the read more so I don't clog up your feed and there's descriptions for the art with a bit more information in the alt text thingy. I add alt text with personal comments to most of my posts but I saw a post somewhere saying most people don't even realize the feature exists, so I'm just. I'm stating it here it exists I use it

While Jessica was experimented on by an entire institute, there was one main person overseeing the experiment, and that was the guy up there. The original experiment was to see what happened when you combined animal DNA with human DNA, since in this fake world genetic science is a bit farther than ours today, and this particular facility had successfully given animals different attributes, such as a rat gills and and chicken a tail like that of a cat. Despite both those creatures dying within hours, this corrupt motherfucker decided to try and get a human subject, and Jessica's family needed the money. Thankfully, not only did the test of giving her dog dna [idfk I'm a cat person give me a break on the breeds] worked, it turned out she was much harder to kill, and had not grown as expected from a 14 year old girl who's going through puberty and in turn growth spurts.

Anyway yada yada she broke out find out she's immortal whatever. Other notes :

She has a brother. I forgot his name but he did have a name, and was later submitted to the facility before her family found out she was missing at the age of 19 and survived, but he gained a compromised immune system and I might give him mobility aids. His color scheme is mainly green and yellow and I always think of those aesthetic pictures of the shoreline when I think of him. Jessica meeting her brother [now technically 23] is a very big help to her recovery, and while her brother is accepted and loved in their home town, Jessica can't bring herself to come back and usually asks him to visit her on the edge of town or at her house, usually bringing along friends. Eventually the main scientist dies by her hands and she covers it up ["cmon gromit, we have to hide the body! There's not cheese and crackers in hell, gromit!" /ref], and a few years later the facility is shut down due to malpractice and Jessica slowly starts to actually visit the town and her parents. They never have the same relationship they used to, but her parents are just happy she's safe and sound and being taken care of.

Jessica will eventually outlive Flora and inherit her belongings, as Flora lived alone her entire life, her photography career and later Jessica being more than enough to make her happy. Jess would start managing her social media when she got older, and never had the heart to delete anything, inviting her distant family to the funeral and arranging for her to be buried in the woods near her home. She's still visibly 14, and would simply live later with her brother in Floras old home and take care of it the best she could. Her story is about moving forward, and as such, you could say she has an infinite epilogue, rather than my other ocs who never get an ending, and the ones that do are frozen at the very end of it, not meant to go any further.

Jessica isnt meant to be aroace, but I heavily imply it because her never aging causes complications, and this isn't really a vampire example. She and her brother are the only one of their kind, and her brother is still destined to fall at some point, aging slowed dramatically rather than completely stopped. I used to consider giving her a love interest for hours on end, but eventually her being 14 would interrupt it and I just gave up. Flora however, is aroace, sex adverse and is the reason she chose the lifestyle she did.

Speaking of Flora, dispite living in the middle of nowhere in the woods, she's quite the extrovert. She loves nature, and used to be a wildlife ranger before her photography career took off, and often travels around the world to capture wildlife. When she found Jessica and found out she had run away from home, and didn't ask any questions after until they had more trust built up between them, simply providing shelter and care that eventually became a permanent roommate situation. She slowly worked up to taking jobs around the world again, but now that Flora had someone to come back home to, she booked her flights to make sure she could be home as much as possible. I think if Jessica was a normal girl and somehow found her way to Flora, they would spend weeks in Paris and Britain together, Flora never leaving Jessica behind on her trips. Unfortunately, werewolf science experiments would never get past TSA.

I don't know if I've ever said this but hey I'll say it again she used to have actual wolf dna, hence werewolf, hence Jessica Winterwolf, but I learned to draw wolf ears from gacha life and I genuinely didn't know what to do about it and couldn't think of another way of drawing them without them looking like cat ears, so I just made them floppy like a pug. Also Winterwolf is because winter is Jessica's favorite season.

Similarly with Jessica's ears originally being gacha life, I actually conceptualized her fully for the first time with a designed I liked in there, and one of the bits that stuck was the fact that she has crescent shaped pupils that are a lavender shade.

Her existence was heavily inspired by a series named "Harrowed Past" which has now been taken down by the creator, but the characters still live on, you can probably find it if you search up "pip and twitch thedragonhat" which I think is who made it?? Oh well I'll edit the post later if I'm wrong. Twitch was actually the first piece of art/fanart I ever made with the purpose of getting better at art, and I really wish i still had it, but I can't even find a picture i took of it or anything. Unfortunately, the character is really hard to find since his name is shared with the giant streaming site Twitch. I haven't watched the guys stuff in a long while but I think he uses twitch as his main vtuber for streaming nowadays which is cool.

[courfee]

just went through all my ao3 fics and edited all the tags because i feel like i overtag a lot and it always bothered me. tbf the most overtagging happens in my relationship/character tags but i find it super difficult to judge who/which relationship is important. like friendships are So Important in my fics i dont feel like i cant tag less there? especially my longer fics. amtc james&sirius and black brothers are in my mind at least if not more important than literally amtc jegulus. i know its a jegulus fic but also jegulus is just the catalyst for other relationship dynamics. how do you tag that stuff

[rabble-dabble]

hi. i know it's been a while and i'm sorry for that.

i guess if you'd just like to know what's going on click the readmore?

if you don't wanna read that though, tldr is that i'm starting to draw hs characters for art practice, and that i'm doing this art "series" (i guess?) for myself to improve. oh, and that life is hard sometimes.

so this isn't really easy to say, and especially not to the internet with a buncha strangers following me (haha) but truthfully, i've been having a hard time both with art and with life lately.

i feel like i'm not keeping up with consistency or the expectations i set for myself with art both on this blog and off. i keep finding myself unsatisfied, disgusted, or just disappointed with how my art turns out, or the ending piece. i feel like i used to know where my art was going, and now i've somehow lost sight. i know the individual things i need improvement on (backgrounds, objects, animals, feet anatomy, colour techniques, body shapes, etc etc etc) but it all just feels like so much and if i get practice on one thing, i stop drawing for a while and i just lose the practice i learned.

so i kinda came up with a solution. draw all the hs characters again - interesting, right? (/s). but i'm not gonna do this for the blog (so, sorry followers). i'm gonna do it for me. no expectations, i don't have a set time limit so no stressing myself, and i just draw the characters as i'd like, trying to improve. this is also to just help myself with wanting to draw again - i draw IRL almost everyday, but nothing that i want or that's...well, artistic/creative. i want to create, like it's eating underneath me in my soul, but i can't find myself to do anything more than pencil sketches.

that kinda brings me to my other problem lately: real life. haha.

if you've been following me long enough, you know i don't really post about my IRL problems here, or especially not to this extent. yeah, i've had my one or two vent posts, but i try to keep it off here because a part of me knows its no benefit to have that kind of depressing, low-self esteem stuff on an art blog that i reblog minecraft and john/kat to.

but truthfully, i don't just wanna pretend it's sunshine and rainbows on here. i'm so tired, and i'm stressed, and i've been through the emotional woodchipper lately that i can barely keep my head on straight. yes, i'm trying to get help for all this (i have a doctors appointment soon, and i'm gonna try and get all my diagnosis in order and get therapy, etc) but i'm not coping well with everything that's been happening to me lately, and i can't keep trucking on the same way i have been like i'm more emotionally stable than i actually am.

i'm sorry if i've been acting more bitter, distant, or just different lately. i'm just exhausted, mentally, physically, and emotionally, and i'm starting to run out of energy to just function in my day-to-day. i actually cried at work the other day (for the first time!) for feeling so overwhelmed with everything i had to do (both in my job and outside of it, fuck retail btw it sucks). i have small support in friends and family, but they're not the type of support i genuinely need to function and keep myself healthy. and i can't rely on them in ways that aren't their responsibility, or that i truly need help with.

i'm not trying to air out ALL my dirty laundry here (hehehe) but i just felt like it was better to say i'm struggling emotionally then to just pretend i wasn't struggling at all. if i was a healthier person i probably wouldn't be venting here in the first place, but then again i probably wouldn't have all these problems hanging over me either, lol.

just...have patience with me, please. i just want life to be a little kind, or at least kind enough to get me to my first therapy appointment.

[0tul1ss]

.

[cinnabeat]

oh meditating until the next loop makes my life sooo much easier

[omegapheromone]

Last night (and just yesterday in general) I was dealing with some pretty severe heat symptoms and started typing up a whole complainy whinypost that ended up being fairly nsfw and personal and the ONLY reason that made me save it as a draft instead of posting was that I vaguely realized I didn't want my tentative return to the misce community to start with a barely coherent heatpost. That and my brain was starting to fall apart so I never finished it.

It got me thinking though. Even in that post, written in the middle of my heat, where I was intending to just complain, I mention a bunch of difficult topics such as internalized shame over expressing my sexuality in any way as well as how recently, my heats have become a LOT more intense likely due to a combination of medication adjustments, healing more mentally, and slowly being more able to accept myself as well. So I'm thinking of finishing that post and breaking down some of the stuff I said in it and actually posting it too, hopefully in a way that makes it more informative on some level. Maybe about the complex ways trauma, stress, and various factors like medication side effects etc affect my heats and just how being an omega and dealing with that is etc...

So... what I am questioning now is, is there any specific aspect of any of that that people want to know about? I mean, if im going to be vulnerable anyway, I might as well try to talk about it in a way that at least can be informative or interesting somehow.

So feel free to send an ask or two if you are curious about something specific and would want to hear about it? Including nswf things too since that post is going to be nsft regardless, obviously (//^∀^;)

[sunsrefuge]

[phagodyke]

ohhhhh my god girl i don't careeeee

[ella-ashmore]

You don't have to answer his btw but I'm just genuinely curious. (And sorry if this has already been asked) but why do you not like the fem or Mariah depictions of Blackfriday's Ethen? Is it just personal preference or is there a controversy behind it that I (personally) am unaware to?

And if there is controversy is it about the actors themselves or something fandom based?

If you do read/answer this, Thank you!

hello !! thank you for being so polite about this, it has been asked before but last person that asked was pretty rude so idm answering it again :] theres no drama behind it whatsoever so if its something you enjoy youre perfectly fine to keep on enjoying it! its just something i personally find uncomfortable to see. so,, personal preference mostly ^-^ i'll get into it a Little more in the tags but thats kind of all there is to it

[arolesbianism]

I've decided that Ako and Tomoe still get to be sibling adjacent in the eternal gales au but like in a comedy of errors kind of way. They've been able to message eachother since they were kids and have picked up a similar but to the left dynamic as in canon but over all the years they've known eachother they've never once realized that the other is an alien. Every oddity has completely flown over their heads and it's not until the other staliens and humans are allowed to contact eachother that they find out and theyre just like :O

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮  tags ; top + gn!reader (no desc of parts but reader is fucking him), unabashed daddy kink, implied verse, small age gap, bottom megumi, petnames (boy, baby) thorough discussion of megumis daddy issues in exactly the direction you think, 18+

✮ wc ; 1.3k

✮  a/n ; i haven't slept . im not responsible for anything. will not be taking questions at this time. 🫡

He's the prettiest thing you've ever seen in your life.

You tell him as much. He pretends to hate hearing it. Soft features bend at hard angles to convincingly drive in the fact that he detests it. Megumi is always like that. For the years you've known him - anything he's at risk of playing his hand too quickly, he retracts. You think that's why you're so addicted to getting him to let go.

He scowls, has the signature Zenin mean mug that almost makes the whole schtick convincing. You know better though. Maybe because you've known him since highschool, or maybe because you simply find him easy to read.

You've never met someone so touchstarved or so delicate all while being so, so mean. There's a lot Megumi can do but he's shit at hiding when something bothers him. When he's irritated, he's petulant and when he's pleased - you'd almost describe him as docile. In his own way. In the way a dog who used to cage fight could be.

You have an interesting relationship to Megumi. You're a stray just like him - with your family being a Zenin lapdog and you being their black sheep. You have a lot to relate on, but Megumi finds your attitude grating. Finds the harshness of your personality difficult, and finds the finesse you have for slaughter and violence to be nauseating.

It's probably why he makes wide, wet eyes at you whenever you're alone. Closest thing he has to someone he can depend on with more experience. You're quick to appraise his work when you go on trips together. Despite your acting smug and Megumis frustration about your attitude, he soaks up the praise like a pretty little sponge. He's only a few years younger than you though, despite how he acts.

(Sometimes you think he wants the gap to be a little wider. )

A cute kid, only two years younger than you. Soft, striking green eyes. Soft lips. A mean little glare and spiky mop of black hair to compliment pale, cream colored skin. Megumi blushes easy, bruises even easier. His knees and elbows are a pretty cherry-blossom pink like something out of a movie scene.

The first time you fuck Megumi, its mostly because you're drunk and interested. It'd be stupid to not be interested in a face so pretty and desperate for approval.

All times after that are false happenstance. You make a routine of it - a silent game that makes it look like you're coercing him so he doesn't have to accept his own wants with any seriousness. You're cool with the ambiguity cause you're a little sick in the head. It's enough to fuck him, and sometimes when you're generous - to have him fuck you.

Megumi is pretty when he's being fucked. He changes his tune fast when his dick is a little hard and his guard is down - never thought that bratty little fucker could whine like he's in heat until you pulled the sounds out of his mouth yourself.

You always reaffirm how much he loves attention and praise and pampering when you fuck Megumi. He likes when you appraise him like that too. Soft compliments about his pretty little hole and the tightness of his waist. You manage it with relative ease. Makes your whole core throb just to see how much he twitches over something so slight and so easy. Such a mean fucking kid - such a brat, all welled up anger and abandonment issue.

Sometimes you wanna make him cry from him pain.

But most times, like now - you offer Megumi sweet pleasure. Give him that gentle, doting authority that he seems to fiend for. Desperate for reprieve in a way that stains his face, despite his attempts to brush it off.

Megumi takes dick like he was born for it. Slender fingers grip at your waist and claw at your back like he wants to rip you in half - tear you limb from limb but his legs wrap around your waist like he'd die if you left him for one fucking second. Megumi likes being full, you think. And he likes more when you praise him for taking your cock with such ease.

It's not rocket science to figure out he has some issues with authority. That distant relationship with his sensei and absent father make it obvious that he never wants to let anyone get too close. He could never really entertain certain relationships, he could never actually ask for approval. It's too little, too late.

Still, it surprises you a little when you first hear him say daddy. Not a lot, but enough that you pause in mid-thrust to stare at him a bit. He's mortified at the realization.

But you're not much less of a scumbag you figure, than all the figures in his life. You nod instead, feel arousal spark up in your stomach and claw it's way into your throat as you fuck him even harder.

("Daddy, huh?" You laugh because it's funny and you think the feeling of being so turned on you pass out is inappropriate. "Sure, baby. I'll be your daddy if you want." )

He doesn't say shit to you about it afterwards. Can barely look you in the during your post-sex aftercare and chat - though that conversation is never particularly romantic. You think the whole thing makes him want to die, so you don't really bring it up outside of a knowing look.

But it happens more often than that. Like a dam breaking, something slips and now Megumi can't close it despite how desperately he seems to want too. It's not even that you're particularly into it at the start.

But well, he's pretty. Prettiest little thing you've ever seen in your life, even though he's tall and strong. He's got this grace that overwhelms you into fucking him dumb whenever you can. Try as you might, you will is not strong enough to not lust over someone like him calling you daddy. That level of unprecedented whining, the affection, the need in such an embarrassing word makes your feel so horny you can barely think.

So, it doesn't particularly surprise you when Megumi calls you daddy. Not anymore.

He's weepy in the face, somewhere in the distance - and he's still wearing his pajamas when you come see him. The scene is uncomfortably domestic between two people who aren't dating, but you don't really care either way. Megumi is pretty everywhere, but he's especially needy getting fucked on his kitchen counter sitting up to cling to you.

His arms around your shoulders, face drawn together with shameless embrassed. His cock is twitchy, leaking against the flat plane of his stomach with unbridled enthusiasm. He says it in a whisper today which you can't help but find cute.

It's raw in the back of his throat, mildly gravelly as his nails dig into your shoulders with an enthusiastic whine. "Daddy. Fuck, please, can't."

"What's daddy's boy want huh?" You say, obviously mocking - a hand wrapped around shaft with a thumb over his slit. Megumi shivers. Lets out a shameful moan at the word boy that makes you laugh hard, makes your head spin dizzy with lust.

"Wanna cum," He says, but doesn't beg. Doesn't know how and couldn't figure it out if you paid him. You've spoiled him rotten after all. Filthy, really but he's prettier when he's acting precious. At least to you. "Make me cum, daddy please."

"Really milking it today, huh boy?" You chuckle and all he does is whimper. "Okay, okay. So fucking needy. Go on and cum, baby. Cum for daddy."

Megumi lets out a whine. A sound you barely knew he had in him as you say it that time and you laugh again and again as you bottom out. You watch him squirm as he finally finishes, back arching off the counter as the pleasure runs through him.

His face is still hazy when he comes down. Still beautiful in that way that makes you want to fuck him stupid and indulge for the rest of your life.

"Feel good, baby?"

He blushes faint and doesn't bother pushing you away. "Mm."

[libingan]

i just graduated yesterday!!! and ive been having back pains since the morning before the graduation. even now, im still in pain dsajkds so i thought why not make a fic abt kyle giving reader a real nice massage😉😉😉!!! except, let’s make it male reader because why not????

um, idk how to do warnings and shit…

does this count as dubcon??? idk, theres a part where reader tries to stop him, but its very brief??? so im not sure????

just to be safe, ill tag it as dubcon bc i literally do not know SHDJWJSJW pls tell me if it is or isnt!!!

after a long, grueling day, you return to your barracks, each step sending a sharp twinge of pain through your lower back. a low grumble escapes you, cursing about how the weight of your gear feels like it’s compressing your spine and you can barely find the energy to unbuckle the heavy straps.

once you finally enter your room, you quickly drop the gear onto the floor, a loud sigh of relief escaping you, despite the lingering ache. you stretch lightly, trying to ease the tension in your muscles, but it only causes you to wince in pain.

you trudged towards your bed, carelessly flopping onto the soft mattress. you didn’t even bother stripping off your clothes, too eager to finally get the rest you’ve been craving the whole day.

the silence in your barracks gives you time to think about the relentless duties your line of work brings. you love it, no doubt about that, but sometimes you can’t help but wonder why you love what you do when shit like this happens.

a heavy exhale leaves your lips, and just as you were about to finally get some sleep, a knock on your door disrupts your plans.

you groan loudly into your pillow, forcing yourself off the bed as you slowly made your way to the door, face scrunched up in discomfort as you rubbed your lower back.

once you reach the door, you twist the doorknob and pull it open, revealing your superior, sergeant kyle garrick. you blink at him in surprise. what the hell is he doing here?

“sergeant,” you greet him with a nod, “what brings you here?”

kyle nods back at you, walking into your barracks without a single word. he closes the door behind him before addressing you. “how’s your back?”

you’re caught off guard, not expecting him to notice. you straighten up at his question, the persistent ache in your back making itself known, but you’re determined not to show it.

“it’s… manageable,” you reply.

kyle hums, eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion at your response. “manageable, you say?” he muses, “i’ve seen that wince. go get on the bed, lay on your stomach.”

“…what?”

the man standing in front of you sighs, ushering you towards the bed. “gotta make sure i keep the team in shape, yeah?”

surprisingly, you find yourself unable to resist the way kyle smiles so charmingly at you. with a sigh, you make sit by the edge of your bed. “do i keep my shirt on or—“

“take it off.” kyle immediately replies. he clears his throat right after, still smiling at you. “you can take it off, if you want. it’d make this easier for me if you did.”

you shrug, pulling off your shirt and hanging it by a nearby chair. kyle’s gaze flicker down your body, his eyes gleaming with… something. you can’t tell what, but it’s there. “good. lie down.”

you wordlessly comply, moving to lie on your stomach, just as kyle had instructed. he shuffles to straddle your hips, perching himself on your butt.

kyle places his hands on your back, working on the tight knots with practiced skills. his fingers are firm, yet gentle, kneading your sore muscles with rhythmic motion.

after a few moments, he pauses, “where do you want my hands?” he asks.

“low… a little lower, please… near the spine—fuuuuck, just like that…” you suck in a breath, eyes fluttering shut as kyle applies the perfect amount of pressure on that one spot.

“right here?” he moves his hands in slow, circular motions, pressing into the indicated spot.

“yesss… yes, right there,” you respond, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. as he continues to work his magical hands on the sore area, you can’t help but let out a few (a lot) of appreciative moans and groans. “feels so much better, holy shit,” you murmur, a soft hum leaving you.

kyle’s breathing hitches, and he tries to maintain his composure, but how can he? you sound so pretty, moaning from his simple touch. he can’t help it if he finds himself responding to the sound of your relief. the gentle sounds you make as he presses into the knots bring out an unwelcome reaction, stirring his arousal.

fuck, he can feel himself getting hard. kyle knows he should stop. he stills his hands, ready to pull away, but when he hears you whine out his name so softly…

he can’t help it when his hands travel lower, toying with the waistband of your jeans, wanting nothing more than to pull them off.

“…sergeant?” you call out, looking over you shoulder to catch his heated gaze. kyle gently shushes you, pressing his crotch against your clothed ass. “it’s okay. im gonna take care of you, i swear. just let me, okay?” he whispers, lifting up your hips enough to unbutton your jeans.

you try to push yourself up, but kyle tuts in disapproval, gently pushing you back down. “no. just stay down. be good for me, okay?”

“sergeant, we shouldn’t—“

“it’s kyle.” he quickly cuts you off, unzipping your jeans, slowly pulling them down. “remember that, yeah? wanna hear you moaning that name in a bit.”

his words send a rush of heat flowing through your veins, heading straight down to your cock. you mutter a few curses under your breath before lifting your hips up a little to give him more space to pull your jeans and boxers off.

“there we go���” kyle throws the clothes off the bed, his hands immediately kneading the soft flesh of your ass. “where have you been hiding this thing, man?” he teases, lightly slapping your cheek, watching it jiggle from the force.

you don’t even bother responding, only rolling your eyes at his comment. kyle chuckles at this, shaking his head in amusement.

“got nothing to say?” he gently parts your cheeks apart, licking his lips at the sight of your puckered hole. “fuckin’ hell…” he groans, feeling himself throb in his pants. “can i?”

you bury your head into your arms, nodding. you doubt kyle would take no for answer anyway.

without another word, kyle lowers his head, tongue darting out to lick a fat stripe across your hole, groaning at the taste.

you shiver from the sensation, a shaky sigh leaving you as you glance over your shoulder to see kyle, eyes shut and brows knitted together, half of his face disappearing in between your ass cheeks as the tip of his tongue breaches your hole, circling the muscle before slowly prodding inside.

“kyle, wait, this is really dirty—fuck!” you moan again, burying your face into the pillows.

“s’not dirty, love, just let me make you feel good…” kyle mutters, pulling away to spit on your hole, watching the glob of saliva roll down to your balls. “lift your hips up f��me.”

you nod, raising your hips with the help of kyle’s hands. he gently pats your bum in approval before moving closer behind you, reaching in front of you to position two fingers to your lips. “suck.”

you eagerly take his long, slender fingers into your mouth, slobbering your spit all over the digits, drool slowly dripping down his palm. you swirled your tongue around his fingers, moaning when he catches the wet muscle with ease, pressing them down before pulling his hand away, causing you to whine from the loss.

“patience, boy,” he chuckles, planting kisses down your spine before spreading your ass cheeks once more with one hand. “relax, okay?”

you nod your head, trying to ease your mind as kyle’s fingers trace around the rim of your hole. “im going to push it in. take a deep breath for me, love.” he says, and you do as you’re told.

he smiles at your obedience, finger slowly sinking into your tight hole. kyle can’t see your face, so he relies on the sounds you make to know if you’re still enjoying this.

“how’s it feel?” he asks, pausing his movements momentarily. you swallow the lump in your throat, voice coming out shaky as you reply, “…w-weird, but you can… you can keep going.”

“good boy,” he praises, resuming the movement of his finger. once he finally sunk in the entirety of his finger, kyle stills himself, waiting for some sort of negative reaction.

all kyle gets in return is a needy whine for more leaving your lips.

he grins at that, sliding in the second finger into your crack. “how does it feel?”

“i feel like i’m about to take a fucking shit,” you grit your teeth, clenching around kyle’s

fingers.

“you aren’t, don’t worry.” kyle reassures you. “im gonna move, is that okay?”

when you finally give him the green light, he lets out a low chuckle, circling his fingers inside of you.

you shudder at the feeling, your aching back completely forgotten as kyle fucks you on his fingers.

“tell me how this feels,” kyle whispers, lightly pressing the pad of his fingers against a certain one spot that has you seeing fucking stars.

“oh, fuck—“ you gasp, eyes rolling into the back of your head, your neglected cock leaking pre onto the sheets. “again. again. please.”

kyle smirks at that. you can’t see it, but you can already imagine the smug look on his face. “like this?” he asks, fingers curling against your prostate intently, determined to bring you over to the edge.

“yes! yes—oh my god-!” you mewl, hands going up to each side of your head to grab and twist at the pillow beneath you, knuckles turning white from your grip.

you bury your face into the pillow, muffling your moans, which have increased in volume with each curl of kyle’s fingers. the sergeant lets out a breathy laugh at the sight of you, lowering his head down to your ass before licking at the rim of your hole, his free hand moving to wrap around your cock, stroking it in time with his fingers.

“haah—fuck! fuck, kyle! please—i-i’m so—“ you try to speak.

“mmhm, just let go…” he mumbles, doubling his efforts.

you groan, muscles trembling as you try to keep your hips upright, head lolling down in between your arms. you can’t help but fuck yourself against him, biting the pillow in an attempt to stifle your moans.

“i-i’m almost—“ a broken moan leaves you, the coil in your stomach tightening, the pleasure running up your spine, and you know you can’t hold back any longer.

it’s then that kyle applies more pressure to your prostate, fisting your cock with renewed vigor. that’s all it takes for you to cum all over the sheets, your orgasm crashing down on you like a tidal wave.

your vision whitens temporarily as kyle continues curling his fingers, milking you for all your worth.

“kyle—i can’t, no,” you whimper, feeling a mixture of pain and pleasure as he crosses the side of too much.

slowly and carefully, kyle pulls his head away, along with his fingers. he gently lets go of your softening cock, watching as you slump on the bed, exhausted.

he wipes his fingers off on his pants. it’s a little gross, but kyle doesn’t care too much about it.

“you okay?” kyle asks, using his clean hand — the one that wasn’t in your ass — to rub soft circles into your back.

“never been better,” you answer, panting heavily as you move your head to the side, looking over your soldier to see kyle’s concerned, but also slightly amused expression. “my back’s still aching.”

kyle lets out a hearty laugh at that, rolling his eyes playfully. “i’ll get to that later,” he says, pressing his clothed cock between your asscheeks. “i got something aching here too, love, and you owe me one.”

yeah, your back pain didn’t get any better after that.