#just replace worm with monster

[autisticsupervillain]

Autistic Avatars not realizing that they're Avatars because they're just "like that": a thread

The Eye

Special Interest in the supernatural = constant food for The Watcher

You know about Interest? TELL ME EVERYTHING

"Hey man listen to me infodump about this horrifying ghost story I read for twenty minutes, alright?"

I need to Know everything about something before I partake in it.

"How did I Know that? Eh, I probably hyperfixated on it at some point."

I cannot be misunderstood so I'll beam the facts into your brain.

The Web

I must plan everything 200 steps in advance before doing anything.

I have prepared for all possible outcomes, I can now have this one conversation.

If I set up all these variables long in advance, then I can do everything correctly and Win the social interaction.

I cannot do anything before The Plan says to.

"I practice my social skills by talking to my spider friends." -Martin "Autism" Blackwood

The Stranger

I cannot socialize without being Uncanny.

If my socialization seems like an act, that's because it is. I practice it in the mirror every day.

Theater Kid

How do you Normal Human?

The Anatomy Class.

Assuming fellow Stranger Avatars also just have the 'Tism. They're not trying to be creepy, honest.

Can't do faces. Doesn't notice when you get replaced.

Being subtly off is too subtle for me.

The Lonely

"I have failed the social interaction. Let the fog reclaim me."

Talking to people is draining my batteries even faster than ever. I need to be alone for approximately 384,400,000 years.

Nothing can overstimulate me in the cool, blinding fog.

Nothing unpredictable can happen in the fog.

The fog is your friend.

The known connection between autism and depression feeds the fog.

The Dark

Why is the sun so god damn bright? I'm going to blow it up I swear.

Night Owl.

Everything's decently quite at night and people leave you alone.

Same overstimulation preventatives as the Lonely tbh. Dark and fog are good concealers.

The dawn is your enemy.

The dread florescent lights shall never bother me again. They break upon my arrival.

Can and will infodump to the monster under my bed. Even now it feels like it listens.

The Spiral

Autism makes getting other mental illnesses recognized hard.

Autism dissociation from body and mind. When did it become 3 AM and why do I hurt? Why am I grumpy? What vital self care task did I forget?

Literal mind doesn't often match reality. Reality is specifically unspecific.

Spaced out and wandered off. Where the fuck am I?

I'm not a mental baby, please stop treating me like it.

I'm not inherently dangerous, please stop treating me like it.

Memory problems my beloathed. Did that happen? I dunno.

What Is Time?

What Is Me?

The Gender

Why do things only make sense to me? What does no one else make sense?

The Flesh

Autism Genderfuckery = Flesh fueled dysphoria.

Meat is the only texture that's palatable. Especially the Mystery Meat.

Will never try any other foods. Too picky.

Infodumps about the horrors of meat processing at dinner and ruins the meal for everyone. More steak for me.

Hates PETA.

Double the arms means double the stim. You weren't using them, right?

Working out is a great stim.

The Corruption

Practices social interaction with the bugs who live in my walls.

"Insects are disgusting. I love them!"

Will protect endangered insects by any means necessary.

According to all known laws of aviation-

Relationship boundaries struggles.

Difficulty noticing sickness symptoms.

Is that nausea or am I overstimulated? *Accidentally causes supernatural plague outbreak*

Difficulty getting diseases diagnosed because of both Autism and noticing too many symptoms so the doctors assume they're faking.

Forgot vital hygiene needs.

The Bugs Are My Friends! They keep me company when I'm sick!

The Buried

Weighted blankets are insufficient, I need the Earth to reclaim me.

Avoid social interaction by tunneling everywhere like a mole.

101 facts about worms.

Forgor hygiene again. Time to become dirt.

Digging a hole is good stimming.

That guy who had to be buried alive to sleep properly. What do you mean you don't want to be buried?

The End

Aradia Megido from Homestuck.Com

That's it, that's the list.

The Desolation

The Autism Temper.

Losing relationships and friendships to ableism and your own disability constantly.

The Fire is a wonderful stim board. Watch it crinkle.

Just watching candles melt for hours.

The fire and thrill gives my life passion again.

Jude Perry.png

The Vast

Accidentally terrifying people by infodumping about the horrors of nature.

The stimulus of falling.

Nature/Space/Weather Documentary on in background always.

Okay, but from how high did you fall? I want to calculate your velocity as you fell through the void.

Weirdly enough... power scaling?

Power scaling is just the art of determining how easily your favorite characters can destroy mankind so... yeah, I can see it.

Brain empty, only terminal velocity.

The Hunt

Cat Autism

The inherent hyperfocus of the hunt. The chase. Your prey.

Studying the habits of your latest hyperfixation/Hunt assigned prey for days at a time.

I've spent so much time hunting in the woods that I forgot about human society. The Missing Person's Bureau have written you off for dead.

Returning to society to sell your wears and realizing you aren't human anymore.

That's okay. Social interaction is random. The Hunt makes sense.

It's black and white. Predator and prey. Humans hunting monsters. It Makes Sense.

The Slaughter

The incredible human WW1 documentary.

"Did you know?" *Describes horrible historic warcrime*

Takes apart puts back together guns from their collection.

The list of known casualties from this war is incomplete. With my help, they can expand it. :)

The Extinction

The world is spiraling towards its end and only you seem to care.

It hurts to be this passionate about a lost cause.

You Will Make Them Care.

[whereserpentswalk]

Everyone talks about your relationship differently now that your girlfriend is a vampire. She was turned a couple of months ago during a lab accident, it wasn't as violent as most non consenting vampire transformations, but it was still traumatic.

Nobody is openly bigoted about. Your freind group is pretty diverse, you know witches and a few werewolves and other assorted cryptids, but very few vampires other than her. And it feels like they're weird about her now, in this way where most humans are supportive but don't understand, or how most cyrptids see vampires as the monsters they have to prove they aren't like to be accepted.

People are suddenly more likely to take your side in an argument. More likely to be worried for your safety if she's mad at you. More likely to be afraid that she might hurt you. And they won't say why, but you know. And when you hug her suddenly it's more sexual, and when she has sex with you suddenly they're worried you're being manipulated.

You have to give her blood. Because you don't want to think of the terrible things she might have happen to her if she didn't have a steady source. And people think that she's going to use that to manipulate you somehow. But she doesn't. She wouldn't. And you could more easily use it to manipulate her, to threaten to withhold blood, if you wanted. But nobody ever accuses you. And people question how you feel safe when she could so easily physically overpower you now, how easily she could kill you, but you know she wouldn't, because you love eachother, because she's a kind person. And meanwhile if you chose to kill her you could so easily claim self defense, but you never would, and nobody would ever think you were a danger to her because of it.

And of course there's also the weird mourning. The way people say they miss her when they could still contact her. The way people talk about it as if it's a fate worse than death, as if it's something that will prevent her from ever feeling happiness again. How when you say that your girlfriend turned into a vampire they'll talk about how sorry they are for your loss, how they'll be so surprised that you're still with her. Or how when they learn that you're still with her they act like this is some sort of noble sacrifice you're making out of love, as if you wouldn't want to be with her. And of course the darker things, the threat of people who really think vampires are dead. The fact that her parents stood at her empty grave, the fact that her pastor preached that her soul is in heaven. The way that you know she'll never be safe outside of the city again.

Of course. There are things you've lost. Her body has changed, her muscles and fat faded so now that her ribs can be seen through her skin, her skin is blue and vainly, her eyes turned solid red, and her teeth now sharp and pointed like a shark's. Her back has sprouted wings, and her penis has been replaced with a fanged worm. And it hurts her. She doesn't pass for human at all, and it hurts her. And you tell her she's pretty, as much as people act like you're the victim for losing your human girlfriend she's much more hurt by losing her human body. So you pet her, and make her feel small and cute when the world considers her something dangerous and scary. And when she's upset about how her body looks you tell her she's still beautiful, or when that feels like denial you'll tell her that it's ok to be upset. And when she's sad that her body is cold now you'll cuddle her to make her warm. And when she misses sex, or hates herself for craving your blood, you'll let her drink from your breast or from between your legs, and people won't understand why but that's love, at least for you. And things will never be the same, but they can be ok, even if just for a small momment they can be ok. And you'll call her pretty, and she'll feel loved, she'll feel loved.

[estavionpira]

I'll ask you, because you seem to understand more about the broader worm fandom than me: what the fuck even is a Spacebattles?

Like, I get that it's a web forum of some kind, but the worm community on Tumblr invokes it's name like some kind of dread monster. What's up with all that?

It's a (mostly) fanfiction forum that got (mostly) taken over by worm fanfiction readers/writers early on. The main reason it has the reputation it does is the userbase, which hevily skews towards a certain type of reader.

A lot of them got into it from HPMOR, others just coalesced there, but the general spirit of the site is heavily biased towards powerwank fics that ignore broad elements of characterization in favor of the characters acting (how they percieve to be) rationally at all times, either that or just picking one element of characterization and replacing their entire character with it. It's where a lot of character-destroying Taylor altpower fics originate from, it's where the Worm self-insert CYOAs came from, and it's where the accursed Greg Veder Gamer fics came from. There's still a lot of good stuff on it, and a ton of really good fics originated on Spacebattles, but there's a reason 'high-quality oc story - 1 comment, taylor altpower #999999 - 150 pages of comments' became a meme. By and large, if a fic is good, it gets crossposted to AO3.

[animeyanderelover]

I already did the letter T for Dazai in a previous request.

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, stalking, clinginess, manipulation, blackmail, gaslighting, abuse, sadism, isolation, abduction, mentions of suicide

Tags: @shumidehiro @leveyani @izanami78

Yandere Alphabet

Dazai Osamu

Nightmare-What would be the worst experience for their darling? Would they break?

🤎​The worst experience for Dazai's darling would be without the doubt the moment the darker side that has always existed within reveals itself and the warm glimmer in his brown eyes disappears with it. You get to know Dazai merely as a goofy, silly but charming man at the beginning, a facade with which Dazai lures you like prey closer to his side. Until he reveals his fangs. Never forget that this man used to work for the Port Mafia and just because he has switched sides never meant that he really changed. The beast is still there and the moment he lets it out, you are doomed. Because that's when Dazai becomes the full package of a toxic boyfriend. He's manipulative, degrading, gaslights you and hurts you even physically as his warm behavior is replaced with a cold and sadistic attitude. Through all of this though, he never once lets you go. He only tightens his grip on you as he slowly lets you watch how your little life crumbles apart. If you have only him left to imprison you and look out for you, you should hopefully learn your lesson.

🤎​Yes. Chances are very likely that his darling would break in the process of Dazai unleashing his other side. Dazai's feelings on such a thing are quite interesting though. On the one hand he feels a strong and dark urge to break you down and fix you himself if you should ever defy him or reject his love. He isn't afraid of punishing you for you to learn to not dare to disobey him even if he might feel guilty later on. A part of him doesn't want you to break down fully and make you lose grasp of who you are and what you are like though. He's afraid if that would ever happen. Dazai is already a broken man so even if your personality defies him, it's ultimately what he also fell in love with. Breaking you is never really his goal, it's more that he wants to bend your personality a bit here and there to make the relationship for the both of you easier If he'd ever fully break you to a shell of what you used to be though, he wouldn't know anymore what he should even do with himself. You are his light after all. If your light is gone, he's lost once again.

Yell-How do they react to their darling breaking down in front of them?

🤎​There would only be very few circumstances where Dazai wouldn't show a reaction to your tears and your distraught and those are the moments where he is at his most scariest. Those are the moments in which he lets the monster take control that has always been lurking beneath his surface and then all your pain and your tears will be directly his doing as he mocks and humiliates you for it, his own heart broken in such moments because of you as he unleashes his bitterness and pain out on you. In every other scenario, Dazai will show a reaction to your sorrow and your despair by coddling you and comforting you. In general he really doesn't like seeing you sad and being given the chance to be the one to soothe you and help you with your pain is always taken by him. What better chance to worm his way into your heart and mind after all then by helping you when you're at your most vulnerable?

Zero-What are things that always make them snap? What would they never allow their darling to do?

🤎​Dazai's worst fear is being left alone in this world so something that would cause him to crack very quickly is the danger of his darling being killed or seeing them getting severely hurt right in front of him. There is this short moment where his eyes grow dull and all emotions leave his face that makes him look more like a corpse than a living person before a crazed gleam appears in his eyes. Burning rage and indescribable pain take over him and almost blind him. Tears fall down his eyes and not even he himself is able to tell if the sounds spilling out of his lips are sobs or laughter. It's a raw moment where he isn't capable of putting on any facade and it is a terrifying sight to behold. His composure will never crumble faster than when he fears that you might leave him alone in this world where he is still lost after so many years of existing.

🤎​This fear of being left alone by you extends to what he would never allow you to do. To leave him. Dazai will never let you leave him all alone. You are not allowed to die. At least not without him. If you would ever take yourself away from him, he would completely lose hold of who he is and would only remain as a broken husk of something that never felt complete to being with. As ironic as it may sound, he would never allow you to take your own life to escape from this world but especially not from him. If you desire to leave this world, if you ever feel like you can't hold on anymore, don't do anything without him. Let him try to console and fix you or let him join you in the worst case in your final moments so that both of you can die as lovers together. But do not think that you have any autonomy to ever make such a decision by yourself!

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Nightmare-What would be the worst experience for their darling? Would they break?

🍎​Honestly, just being Fyodor's darling is the worst experience one could ever ask for because of his twisted ideology. Differently from Dazai, Fyodor doesn't have two sides within him. There has always ever been one side of his and you'll experience the true terror of that long before you are even aware of his existence. Fyodor sees himself above the sinful nature of humans, as someone chosen from the lord to cleanse this world of impurity. Even his darling is seen as part of the lost souls of humans and their foolish greed, only that you threaten to drag him down with you into hell. Sin has always been sweet for humans and he realizes that in your presence as you tempt and entice him. He desires you yet won't let your stained presence be his downfall. So he claims you, punishes you for the fact that he yearns for you so much and takes you for himself. Little mouse, let him cleanse you of from your filthy life.

🍎​You will be broken because that is Fyodor's goal. No matter how hard you may try of your own accord, you can never be truly free from the sins of humans. On your own you can never reach a pure level and no other human can help you with it either. but Fyodor is different. He can help you, he needs to help you. How else could he ever let you be in his presence otherwise? Sinning is part of your nature and personality so he takes the cruel step of breaking and re-shaping you and by doing so, freeing you of all of your wrongdoings. If you're empty, he can help you to be reborn. With Fyodor you never stand a chance to remain as you are, his cruel and twisted ideology of how to save you would never allow you to stay as you are.

Trauma-How would they act when at their lowest and most neediest point/when they nearly lost their darling?

🍎​Fyodor has never been someone who would ever reveal his weakness to anyone. He's a man who would express never much distraught or despair to anyone, not even to his darling who he keeps close yet simultanously away from his heart. He wouldn't allow you to see him in such a vulnerable state. But he keeps you close. Closer to his body than most of the time if he should ever cave in to his own vulnerability as his grip around you literally and metaphorically tightens. You're never allowed to leave his sight in such moments as his own glowing eyes never stray away from you and hands caress gently the shape of your face, embedding everything about you in his mind so that he can never forget about you. Not your sweet and broken eyes nor your enchanting voice.

Yell-How do they react to their darling breaking down in front of them?

🍎​You only ever break down because of him. From the very moment you've snatched his heart away, he has made it his goal to break you and ruin you. He has been watching your mental breakdown, your panic, the fear and the despair all for so long and it has always brought an serene smile to his face. You deserve it. You deserve all the pain as he delivers God's punishment to you. Seeing your tears right in front of you though as soon as you have been abducted is even more enrapturing than he could have imagined as all the agony and anguish you go through because of him only ever brings one word to his mind. Beautiful. You look beautiful as you suffer for your sinful nature and slowly but surely give in, giving him the chance to give you your salvation. As the first cracks appear, his touches slowly grow more comforting and his words more soothing. Don't resist. Let him save you.

Zero-What are things that always make them snap? What would they never allow their darling to do?

🍎​He can never allow anyone taking you away from him. Differently from Dazai though, his primary fear in such a case isn't even that you might be killed. It is that someone might taint you and ruin you again. He could never allow his partner to be part of the common and vulgar crowd. You need to be pure and free of sin and unfortunately sin is a disease shared among humans. If you were ever to escape his grasp and spend time among others, your pureness would slowly be tainted by their ways. What your broken mind would have recognized as help before Fyodor shapened you to someone else is viewed as a crime, a sin so large that not even death could ever save their soul. How dare they ruin something pure after all? How dare they to drag you down to their cheap and unworthy level where you are not meant to be? How dare they, defying his work and spoiling you to be unworthy of his love once again? Don't worry though, he will save you again and again.

🍎​I already talked about it but something he could never allow you is to let you be you. His own righteousness has already been putrefied by allowing his heart to be infected with you. So the only path left for him to save him from falling victim to sin as well is by cleansing you of everything that would have made you unworthy and dirty otherwise. You shouldn't be like the rest of humanity. Fyodor won't allow you to be like them. Not now that his heart has festered with an obsession for you. You have to change, you have to be punished or otherwise he could never have you, love you, own you. You will never know a peaceful day from then on again as he has made the decision to change you, to turn you into someone he can keep and cherish without succumbing to his own sin. To make this forbidden love possible, he will shape you into someone he can allow himself to treasure.

Jouno Saigiku

Nightmare-What would be the worst experience for their darling? Would they break?

♦️​There are quite a few things that can and will go terribly wrong as his darling. I think what would be worst is Jouno's heightened senses as a compensation for his inability to see. You can never keep a secret from him as your heartbeat, your breath and even your blood flow will betray you and this makes you vulnerable and metaphorically completely naked and completely exposed to this man. Since Jouno has a sadistic and violent personality of his own, he tends to use your inability to defend yourself mentally from him to shamelessly degrade, humiliate and bully you whenever he sees fit. His heightened abilities that make him more sensitive to his surroundings additionally mean that he doesn't do well with strong emotions since they overwhelm him more than others so if his s/o is very emotional, that also means that they can expect little to no comfort and instead major annoyance from his side due to their emotions.

♦️​Chances are that he might break his darling but intially Jouno doesn't seem to worry about this possibility or perhaps he never considers it for long anyways. It isn't fully his intention as he does so but he doesn't seem to be bothered about it at first. He just tells himself that at least now he doesn't have to deal with your emotions and feelings anymore. Until the silence threatens to suffocate him. There is a growing feeling of unease that only festers more and more whenever he spends time with you. He realizes that he misses your quicker heartbeat, the way your breath would hitch and the sound of your voice conveying your emotions always so perfectly. Instead your heartbeat...Instead the very sound of you sounds dull and lifeless, an empty shell with a body that only functions to keep you clinically alive is all he is left with. Unwillingness to admit his own mistake soon turn into slight despair as his touches and his words grow tender. Please...just give him something. Your emptiness is deafening.

Trauma-How would they act when at their lowest and most neediest point/when they nearly lost their darling?

♦️​Jouno has problems opening up to his darling. Vulnerability and weakness have never been pleasures he was able to enjoy in his life to the point where those mere two words sound foreign to him. He, the one who can so easily sense when others around him are feeling low, is unable to do as everyone else. But he takes pride in that. He doesn't want to be viewed as weak, he has to be the strong savior for people after all. So letting his guard down around you whenever something manages to shake him to his core is a strange feeling that leaves him irritated due to the sheer vulnerability. He doesn't even know what he wants to do with you whenever he reaches such a point but he just knows that he wants to be with you. That makes everything always a bit awkward between the two of you as he is left to figure out what to do now whilst you are constantly on edge the entire time he is in your room, fully aware that he can hear it.

Yell-How do they react to their darling breaking down in front of them?

♦️​Most of the time he is reacting quite insensitive. As I mentioned, he doesn't do well with overly strong emotions since his heightened senses make him experience it all so much more enhanced than everyone else and it annoys and irritates him. You can't expect much besides sharp words from him as he mocks you for your own emotional breakdown that cut deep into your already crumbling heart and make everything even worse. Eventually sadistic fun turns into annoyance though as your emotions give him a headache and he becomes mean and degrades and humiliates you through cruel and harsh insults. Until he just leaves you, done with your bullshit. If he actually attempts to be nicer and try to comfort you, he probably still ends up somehow saying something rude as his annoyed temper still breaks through even if he tries to prevent it.

Zero-What are things that always make them snap? What would they never allow their darling to do?

♦️​He absolutely despises it when someone tries to use you to get under his skin. In which way and form that is doesn't matter as it will be in either case a huge success in making him lose his supposed composure as his fierce temper and his violent tendencies break through his composed facade. He loathes it when someone knows that you are his weak spot and takes advantage of that. It is already confusing and frustrating enough for him to navigate through all the emotions he stuffs away inside of him, all caused by you. He can't have it getting even worse by anyone doing as much as putting your name in their mouth in an attempt to win against him or to distract him without him feeling the intense need to strangle that person or cut their tongue off so that they can never speak your name again. He can't have people targeting his weak spot so in order to prevent that, he isolates you from the world.

♦️​He doesn't enjoy disobedience. As he knows that you are his only weakness that could probably make him lose all of his composure, he feels an intense need to control you. Knowing where you are and with whom you are but especially knowing that you are obedient to him gives him a bit more security to hold onto his composure. He refuses to let you use his own emotions for you against him as much as he won't allow anyone else to do this. A little bit of stubbornness might be amusing but know when to stop and never dare to push your boundaries. You will be punished otherwise and Jouno isn't afraid of being rough on you either if you are too daring in defying him. He's only doing this for your own protection after all.

Sigma

Nightmare-What would be the worst experience for their darling? Would they break?

☁️​Sigma's sheer dependence on his darling would probably be the worst part about having him be the one obsessed with you. He cannot imagine being without you because his whole identity and existence is dependent on you. He was created without any chance to figure out who or what he even is, stranded without any purpose. So he fills the void, the empty shell he is, by having you. You give him purpose, you help him figuring out what he is, who he is and why he is and that makes you so much more precious than all the riches he has in the Sky Casino. Sigma can't exist without you as you are his existence and as sweet and nice he tries to be, aware of your feelings about being isolated and essentially put in a golden cage high in the sky, he just can't help it. He needs you and it's this overbearing and dependent behavior that shackles you down and nearly smothers you at times.

☁️​I think the problem with Sigma is that this experience isn't limited to a certain time. It is there the whole time and therefore sucks the energy slowly and constantly out of you if you can't learn to adjust and accept it. It's draining and tiring and will slowly seep the life out of you. Sigma on the other hand can't let that happen. If you lose yourself after all, he has nothing left. If you would turn into a hollow husk, he would have failed in the only purpose he ever had: You. And because he is so incredibly observant and obsessed around you, he quickly notices any shift in behavior around you. He knows that your mental health may suffer but at the same time he is unable to let you leave. So he tries to help you in any way he can but ultimately that only makes him even worse. It's a never-ending cycle.

Trauma-How would they act when at their lowest and most neediest point/when they nearly lost their darling?

☁️​You can feel every crevice of his body clinging to you, his palms sweaty and his breath uneven and jittery. If both of you wouldn't be wearing any clothes, you're sure that he would probably melt together with you because it honestly feels like that is what he is trying to do. Sigma is already normally very dependent and tries to spend as much time with you as he can whilst also continuing to be the host of his casino. Yet he is prone to a meltdown for sometimes no apparent reason at all and with the ever-growing tightness in his chest, he escapes always to the only person he feels safe and alive around. That's only you. He usually just clings as long to you until he feels more stable about his whole existence again before he hesitantly leaves you again. If there is a risk of you being targeted or if he is just in a generally bad mental state, the security around you is tightened even more as he comes and visits you multiple times even in between his work for short cuddle sessions to be able to keep going.

Yell-How do they react to their darling breaking down in front of them?

☁️​He's only that far away from breaking down and panicking with you yet he tries to cling to the last bit of composure he has. You need him right now after all. He can't mess this up. He reacts so incredibly sensitive to your emotions but differently from Jouno who would get annoyed and even slightly mad with you if you should crumble in front of him, Sigma just gets overwhelmed to the point where he feels his own heart threatening to jump out of his chest. Your despair causes him immense stress and anxiety because he knows that he has to fix it but is also always so terrified that he will mess up. In a way he sees it even as part of his purpose and responsibility to look out for you and take care for you but that makes everything only more stressful for him because he's so scared that he will mess up and that he just won't be enough. Even if he is pushed over the edge though, he doesn't leave you. Instead he just panics with you together.

Zero-What are things that always make them snap? What would they never allow their darling to do?

☁️​He would never allow someone else to take you away from him. He just can't effort to lose you because your loss is equal with losing himself too. Everything he has somewhat established has only been because of you as his entire purpose and his reason for existence is only found when he is in your presence. Partially he knows that what he is doing to you only causes you grief and sorrow but he doesn't want to be left alone anymore in a world he doesn't understand and in which he just suddenly appeared one day. It is a determination laced with sadness even if someone has good intentions of freeing you but it is an iron will nevertheless. No one will take you away from him and even the mere mention of it is enough to make his heart drop to his stomach and do intense research on whoever made this remark to him.

☁️In the same manner that he would never let anyone else take you away from him, you aren't allowed to leave him either. Honestly, even if you hate and despise him, he could manage somehow. He would be hugely unstable and anxious but he could go on with his life anyways because you're still in it.​ If you're completely gone from his life though, Sigma feels like a blind man who is left stumbling around aimlessly all by himself. Nothing could kill him more than the hollowness that would grow and fester inside of him if you would be gone from his life. Even if you should hate and despise him and even if you would shatter his heart to pieces and make him suffer everyday, the pain would still be proof that he exists. It's better than the nothingness and the meaninglessness that would befall him if you wouldn't be within his reach. Please, he's begging you! Don't leave him!

[nethhiri]

Chapter 57: A Vegetable Peeler, a Peach Pit, and a Fish Walk Into a Bar

Warnings: Violence, torture, gore, body horror, sex

Killer and Heat, well, everyone except Kid really, was starting to become concerned. Kid thought everything was fine with you based on the bits of conversation he could remember. You had been in the dungeon for days now. The only way they knew you were still alive down there was that they could hear you laughing or taunting as they walked by. You had come out briefly to ask a cabin boy to fetch you a vegetable peeler, a peach pit, and a fish, live preferably. No one could be sure whether that was more assuring or less assuring that you were fine. Even when people heard you talking, they weren't sure if you were talking to the prisoners or yourself. 

Heat was the most worried. Maybe if he hadn't told you and Killer had been able to break it to you gently, this wouldn't have happened. The pain that took over your features when he had told you haunted him. He knew you were upset with Kid and Killer and probably wouldn't listen to either of them right now. Heat thought he probably wasn't on your bad side even if he was the messenger. Wire also wasn't on your bad side, but you had less of a relationship with him. Incorporating all of that, Heat knew he had to be the one to check on you. 

The vegetable peeler was, of course, for skinning all their dicks. If you thought peeling carrots was relaxing, try peeling the dicks of your enemies, absolutely refreshing. The best part was that you could do it as many times as you wanted. You were giggling, going up and down the line of marines, skinning and reskinning their dicks. Warthin got special treatment. Not only did he get his dick skinned, but he also got a salt handjob, or maybe it counted as exfoliation. Not the first time you had a man screaming with his dick in your hand, maybe the first time they begged you to stop, however. Why stop at the skin? For him, you continued to peel until there was nothing left. It didn't work so well when you got to the softer meat, so you basically just mangled it to the best of your ability.

You replaced it at the end. You weren't a monster. No, not yet. But you had impending plans to become one. 

Of the marines you had accidentally permanently fucked up, you collected their cocks in a fucked up floppy bouquet. This was then shoved into Warthin's mouth, which was then sealed as tightly as the door to the dungeon, so he could either eat them or choke on them. Lucky for him, they were small. You had no preference. He needed to stay suffering while you turned your attention elsewhere. 

The peach pit bounced up and down in your hand. Your mother had never told you not to eat watermelon seeds or a watermelon would grow inside you, because you didn't have a mother. Still, the thought of seeds sprouting within someone did cross your mind. You thought about forcing one of the prisoners to swallow the pit, though stomach acid wasn't a great environment for things to grow. It probably didn't matter with your devil fruit regardless. Instead, you made a small incision with a scalpel in the abdomen of one of the kind of already fucked up prisoners. You needed to keep the less fucked up ones for later since they had a part to play in Warthin's misery. You shoved your fingers into the cut, bluntly dissecting through subcutaneous fat and fascia by making a spreading motion with them. With the feeling of tearing through flesh and your hand buried past your knuckles, you were satisfied. Then you placed the peach pit deep within the man and sat back. 

It was like you were watching a time-lapse video transponder snail. You used your power to manipulate the seed to grow. Through the incision, a bright golden light was visible. The path of least resistance was the bore hole you made through the abdomen, hence it was the first place that green tendrils started to erupt. Soon, worm-like forms began crawling under the skin of the marine. Even though he was a little fucked in the head from your fusion experiments, he still felt pain and he still cried out, branches sprouting from his open maw. Roots erupted from his skin and dove back in, sensing no viable growing media save for the body. The green tendrils took on a brown, woody texture as they matured and bright green leaves turned a deep emerald. You held your breath, waiting for something very specific to happen. The entire process up to this point was relatively fast, compared to the growth of a normal tree, about an hour. You wondered if you could make it happen any faster. The blooming of a flower interrupted your thought process, capturing your attention until a green, then yellow, then orange-red fruit developed. Before it could rot, you snatched it from the branch it was on and took a bite. You imagined it to taste like the sweetest, juiciest fruit you had ever eaten, but it tasted like shit, probably the fault of the growth medium. You tossed it to Minerva, who practically swallowed it whole. You left the human peach tree as is for now. It was possibly a useful trick to save for later, though not very exciting. It seemed cooler in your head.

Now for the fish, it wasn't alive, as you had asked. It was fresh enough for your purposes you supposed. You sliced the gills out of it and took those to the other fucked up prisoner. You didn't need the guy to be responsive, you only need to see if he lived or died. With your devil fruit, it was child's play to fuse the gills to his neck. That wasn't enough. You had to apply your knowledge of gas exchange and create an adjacent capillary system, akin to that of the human lung, near the gills so the oxygen molecules pulled from the water by the gills had somewhere to go and blood to oxygenate. Now, you were unsure if the man could consciously control where he breathed from so you had plans to take that into your own hands, but you didn't do it yet because he still needed to breathe air for a few more minutes. 

You unchained him from the wall and pulled him with you by a lead, handing it over to Mini. You were too honed in on your experiments to give a shit about who was on deck. You had been off in another world for the past few days, though you thought it had only been one at most. Unsealing the door, Mini followed you onto the deck. You squinted as the sun burned your eye. Everything was too bright. After a few minutes, your vision was adjusted enough, yet still uncomfortable. The man was positioned next to the banister as you cut off his air supply, forcing flesh to cover his mouth and nostrils. He scratched at his throat almost immediately and you pushed him overboard, still attached with a chain around his neck. You peered over the edge, watching him squirm and struggle. You thought it had failed until you saw him tread water.

There were others around you trying to see what you were doing. Killer specifically, staring at the vegetable peeler tucked into your belt with the dried blood and bits attached to it. You motioned at Mini to pull him up after a few more minutes. The boar walked backwards until he was close enough to the railing for you to pull him over. You intended to put his orifices back where they belonged but once he was on the deck, you decided to liked watching him suffocate more. He flopped around like the fish he was, clawing at his mouth and nose, trying to make an opening. So he has some brain function left. You pulled a blade from your belt that you had previously stored there and grabbed his hand, putting the handle in it and curling his fingers around it. There was no stopping the sick laughter as you watched him stab himself in the face, desperately trying to relieve the lack of air. Not enough it seems. The stabbing motions slowed as blood covered his face and seeped into the deck. You couldn't even see his face through the blood. 

Heat knew that Kid and Killer were startled by your appearance because he was startled by your appearance. Confirming his thought that you hadn't been taking care of yourself properly, you were still in the same clothes that you had been in a few days prior and you were completely encrusted in gore. There were deep purple-gray circles under your eyes and the one that had been reintroduced to your skull was bloodshot. The braids that were in your hair were still there, but pieces of your hair were falling out of them and they were unkempt, littered with pieces of what were surely people. Heat knew you weren't eating or drinking either. Your lips were chapped and you looked haggard. There were cuts on your hands from being careless with blades, too. Heat watched you leave the deck with Minerva dragging your experiment behind you. He glanced at Killer before following you. Kid wasn't around. He had been boarded up in his workshop, determined to finish your eye so that you would forgive them for keeping the other a secret. 

You were about to close the door to the dungeon when Heat put his hand out to stop it and let himself in. You acknowledged him with a glance, but went back to your projects. Warthin was barely holding on to consciousness after choking for the past few hours on cocks, and probably his own vomit. You didn't put his mouth back, only slit the skin where it should be with a blade. 

Heat's eyes wandered around the room. He had never seen it like this. There were body parts lying around and the smell was putrid. His breath caught when he noticed the extra appendages on some of the prisoners and the actual living tree embedded in a person. That made what he was about to do even more difficult. He did not want to be on your bad side. He had to do it though. He had just watched you cut a hole in Warthin's face and lick the blade clean. It didn't even seem like you knew you were doing it. Then he watched Warthin spit out a few disembodied penises, and he realized he had to talk to you before he was too intimidated to do so. 

"Y/N... I think it's time to take a break." 

You didn't say anything but you did blankly gaze in his direction before going back to what you were doing. 

Heat put his hand on your shoulder. "Y/N."

You shrugged his hand away. "Fuck off." It didn't sound like it had malice behind it, even if you meant for it to. It only sounded tired. 

Heat grabbed your shoulder and turned you forcefully to face him. "I'm not asking you. I'm telling you, as your commanding officer, that you're going to take a break."

Your eyebrows furrowed, as if you could not comprehend Heat telling you 'no'. Heat was not a pushover by any means, however, he rarely used the authority he had, especially when it came to you. Or maybe it only seemed that way because the other three were always bossing people around left and right. It was so unusual that all you could do was nod in your confusion.

Heat steered you out of the room and waited for Mini to exit before locking the door, which he realized wouldn't keep you out but it did make a statement. "Go clean up, have a hot meal, and sleep. If I have to tell you again, I'll put you in the seastone manacles until you stop being insubordinate. We clear?"

You nodded again.

"Good." Heat watched you warily as you went to do as you were told, for once. He added, softly, "And show your face to Kid and Killer. They're worried about you, too." 

You half turned so that you could see him. "The only thing Kid is worried about is when he gets his dick wet." 

Heat didn't understand what you were talking about. After he made sure you left, he went to see Kid in his workshop. Heat needed to tell him how bad off you were. Kid was diligently welding something, a giant magnifying glass positioned in front of his face so he could see the very tiny, fine details. 

"Boss."

"Aye, Heat. Come in." 

"It's fucked up down there."

"Heat, I don't give a damn how ya mangled yer cock this time," Kid said without looking up.

"The dungeon, asshole."

"My girl is enjoying herself, is she?" Kid had a grin on his face imagining your evil little laugh and how cute you were when you were being ruthless. 

"Boss, I don't think you're taking this seriously enough."

"What are ya talkin about? I just talked to her the other day and she was fine." Kid held up a small sphere. "When I finish this, she's gonna be good as new." 

"It's not that simple. And really? Because she seemed mad at you." Heat remembered earlier in the week when Kid stumbled past him in the hallway. "By any chance, were you drunk when you talked to her?"

"So what?"

"There's no chance you might have said something to piss her off?" 

Kid paused to think. "Everything I say pisses her off. S'why she lo- likes me." When Heat glowered at him, he continued. "I was waitin in the infirmary to see if she wanted to spend time with her dear captain and she got all boo-hoo-y about me an' Killer not likin her if she was blind and I said ya still got a pussy don't ya? That's all."

"For fuck's sake, Kid." 

"What?!"

"Why would you say that?"

"I was tryna make her feel better. She was killin my boner." 

Now your comment made sense to Heat. "So you basically told her that she had value to you as long as she could still fuck you." 

"No! I haven't even touched her! Killer's been subbing in, wearing her panties. It's not the same but I've been trying!" He said the last part somewhat to himself. "I've been snuggling her and being supportive and all that shit."

Heat's brain sizzled at the thought of Killer in your underwear, but he pushed those fantasies from his mind. Heat explained what you had said to him the night you confronted them. He didn't know that he had been the only one you fully confided in. If Kid didn't know your feelings and fears, how did he know to avoid them? Heat seemed to keep getting stuck in the middle of your failed communications. 

Kid was filled with remorse. He was so happy that you were back with them and that you were recovering, that he didn't delve any further than the surface. He wanted to go back to how things were before so badly that he didn't want to talk about what happened to you, for fear that talking about it would make it linger somehow. It made him uncomfortable and he wanted it to pass expeditiously. Kid was great at talking, not so much communicating, and not when it came to emotional subjects. He was afraid that he would fuck up, and he still fucked up. Kid was being himself, thinking you would find it as endearing as you normally would, without considering how your perception might have changed. 

______________________________________________________________

Heat was right. You needed to take care of yourself. After taking a piping hot shower and getting food into you, the lack of sleep caught up with you. Your body was heavy and dragging it to bed was a chore. Sleep evaded you when you laid down to rest at your bunk in the women's quarters. You couldn't stop thinking about this hollow feeling in your heart. You hadn't talked to Killer or Kid in days and the last time you talk to either led to grief. Still, you missed them. There were things left unsaid and unresolved. You needed time to think about your feelings and how you were going to express them in a way where you wouldn't get pissed. Following several tosses and turns, you gave up. Not yet ready to talk to Killer, you decided to take Quincy up on her offer. 

"Hey, Quince, are you in here?" 

"She's not, but I am," Emma sleepily replied. She must have been napping for her night watch later.

"Oh."

"Do you... wanna talk?" Emma added, "No one else is here."

You were hesitant at first but it all came tumbling out. You explained why you were angry with Killer and that you didn't know how to talk to him about it. This was the first time you had ever been in a semblance of a relationship and you didn't know how these things were supposed to go. 

"I think you're justified in being angry, but I also know that our first mate isn't an idiot like our captain. Killer never does things without a good reason. I also know that he takes his own shortcomings very hard, and that he is probably feeling terribly for upsetting you." Emma thought and added, "I say you just go talk to him now. There's no point in waiting."

"Are you sure? I still don't know what to say."

"Same thing you told me."

You swung your legs over the side of your bunk and decided to take Emma's advice. Walking quickly so you couldn't change your mind, you headed towards Killer's cabin.

Killer couldn't be angry when he saw his kitchen marred with bloody fingerprints, nor could he angry when he saw his desecrated vegetable peeler. He deserved it. He was upset with himself for taking things into his own hands instead of talking to you. After all, who was he to decide what was best for you? Why did having feelings complicate things so much? Everything seemed easier when you argued and fought with them. He tried not to think about if you would forgive him or not. He was too afraid of the answer. 

Killer was bringing his shirt over his head, about to clean up for bed, when he heard a timid knock at his door. 

It wasn't fair. Your plan was immediately thrown into the air by your brain. Why did he have to open the door like that? Killer stood in the doorframe, no shirt on, pants unbuttoned, with a full view of the barely-visible blond hairs that ran from the bottom of his belly button to the top of... your panties? No, you must be mistaken. 

Killer wasn't expecting you, not in the least. 

"Can we talk?" You asked.

Killer moved into his room, unblocking the doorway so you could come in. 

It was awkward standing in the middle of the room, but you didn't want to sit on his bed as casually as you usually did either. You took a deep breath. You had to get it out before you had a chance to change your mind. "First of all, I'm sorry I yelled at you and didn't give you a chance to explain yourself." Your eyes shifted down in penitence. "I wasn't in the right headspace to receive an explanation or have a conversation. Secondly, I'm sorry I..." You looked away and spoke very quickly under your breath, "... cooked human flesh in your kitchen and used your vegetable peeler on dickmeat." 

Killer tilted his head to the side. "Used the vegetable peeler on what?" Killer shook his head. "Never mind. I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn't have taken over your autonomy like that. It was wrong of me to decide what to do without talking to you."

"It was my only remaining eye, Killer. I was completely blind, and without vision I can't fight. I can hardly use my devil fruit. It tormented me to think that when I got better, you would leave me at the next island, just a useless extra mouth to feed." You tried your damndest not to cry. 

"We wouldn't abandon you like that. And why would we? We still care about you. We want you here."

"I didn't know if that was still true, after what happened to me." You sniffed. "It felt like a betrayal. I trusted you as a first mate. I trusted you as someone who I thought cared about me."

Killer wanted to pull you into his body and comfort you. He held back, not knowing if you would be okay with that right now. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought it would be better to wait until you healed before telling you about your eye. I didn't want you to try to use your fruit too soon and ruin it or hurt yourself even more. I would never betray you, darlin. Promise." He gingerly caressed your cheek with his finger.

Emma was right. He did have a good reason. You nodded in understanding. It was true you may have irreversibly damaged it or yourself in your haste to put it back, but your mind would have been slightly more at ease knowing that all was not lost. You closed the distance between you and Killer and wrapped your arms around him. "Just talk to me next time. Please."

Killer pulled you tightly against him. "There's not going to be a next time, darlin. I'll make sure of it." He wanted to hold and comfort you so badly. He nuzzled the top of your head with his helmet.

You missed the smell and the feel of his skin. You missed the safety within his arms. You missed holding him. 

The two of you embraced, breathing each other in, reveling in each other's warm touch. There was a soft clunk as Killer's helmet came off and was tossed somewhere in his room. A kiss was placed on your forehead and his hand tangled itself in your hair as he tugged you tighter to him. It felt like the two of you could melt into one. There was an emptiness as you separated, swiftly repaired with the meeting of lips. Tender at first, full of love and longing, conveying things that couldn't be expressed in words. Passionate, letting each other know how much the other was missed and that the feelings they had for each other ran deeper than any anger. Hungry, as each of you realized how much you missed having each other. 

Killer delicately pushed you back. "Are you sure?" 

You were breathing heavily. Were you sure? Were you ready? There was no looming cloud of anxiety or any feeling other than your burning desire to be with Killer. "I need you, Killer." This is not what you had in mind when you were knocking at his door. But kissing lit some kind of fire inside you that wouldn't stop raging until you were with him.

That was all he needed to hear. In a flash, you were on top of Killer in his bed. "We can stop if you get uncomfortable."

You pressed your palm into his growing erection. "Do you want to have sex or not?" Cuz it sounds like you don't."

Killer sucked in a sharp breath as you tugged his jeans down. You abruptly stopped and stared. "What's wrong?"

"Those.... are my panties." 

Fuck. Killer forgot he was wearing them. "Kid made me wear 'em. Y'know because you needed time and Kid is Kid. He thought it might help um... with the cravings." When you didn't say anything, Killer added, 'S-sorry. They're probably a little stretched out." 

You were hypnotized by the way the black elastic cut into the skin of Killer's thighs. "Fuck. Me next." You ghosted your hand over the lacy fabric that was straining to contain Killer's bulge. Even soft, his dick and balls probably showed from the sides. You bit your lower lip to keep from revealing your excitement. You palmed him through the fabric, feeling it become wet with precum. Leaning down you teased the top of the fabric with your teeth and grazed them along Killer's skin, nipping at his V-lines. You kissed his cock through the lace, from the root to the tip, pressing your tongue against the wet spot he created to taste him. Your fingers played with the sides of the panties while you kissed and sucked him through the black veil. His groans were adding to the slick pooling into your own panties. 

You grabbed the black lace in both hands and tore it off him, placing the material in his palm. "Show me how you like to use my dirty panties." 

Killer gripped his cock with the panties and enthusiastically did what you asked. 

You watched him hungrily as he jerked himself off, slipping your shirt off over your head. The pants you had on were tossed to the floor and you were soon left in only your panties. You positioned yourself over him, holding your hand over his so you could feel every squeeze and stroke he made over his cock. Your lips found his again and you devoured every moan that left them. You grabbed his hair with your other hand and pulled him closer to you, snaking your tongue into his mouth. His hand moved faster up and down his cock. Killer's other hand rubbed your clit through your panties, feeling how soaked they already were. You let him get close, waiting until he was panting into your mouth before tightening your grip on his hand and forcing him to stop. 

"That's all for me, baby. Don't you dare waste it."

Killer flipped you on your back and pushed your legs up, burying his face between your thighs. His tongue swept up your slit and pressed into the apex of your pussy. You could feel his mouth move against the sensitive bud. He groaned and squeezed your plush thighs as he tasted your center. Killer tugged your panties off and pressed them to his face, breathing in your essence before plunging his tongue into your cunt. He lapped at the sweet nectar gathered between your petals until your legs started to shake. His mouth shifted to suck your clit and flick his tongue against it while he teased your entrance with a finger. Your fingers dug into the sheets as he slipped his finger in and worked it in time with his tongue. He added a second finger, causing you to briefly flinch as you felt a twinge of pain. You tilted your hips to give him a better angle. 

Killer must have noticed. "You okay?"

You nodded and yanked him by the hair back down between your legs. "Keep going," you panted. "I'm right there." Heat pooled in your lower belly as the impending orgasm built up again. Your back arched and both hands wove themselves into Killer's hair. The sloppy sounds coming from your pussy were downright sinful. "Oh fuck! Please!" You threw your head back as you came. "Fuck, Killer! Yes!" You rode his fingers through your orgasm, twitching at every lap of his tongue against your oversensitive clit. You pulled him up for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

"Fuck, I missed you," Killer groaned against your lips. His heavy cock drooled on your leg, begging to cum next. He fisted his dick, coating it in his precum and the slick left on his fingers. Killer pressed his glans into your opening, stopping when he noticed you flinching again. "What is it? Do you need to stop?"

"No, I don't know." Your brows furrowed. It made no sense. You had no problem taking him before, and now even two fingers stung. It was like you were a virgin or something. That sparked something in your brain. "I think... I healed myself... into a virgin again." You put your hands over your face in embarrassment. The same thing that happened to your uterus. Of course you accidentally healed your hymen, too. 

Killer raised his eyebrows. "Oh." He paused. "So... ?" He wasn't sure if that meant you wanted to stop or continue. He thought you felt a little tighter than normal but thought it was because it had been a while. 

A slow smile spread across your face. "So... take my virginity, Killer." 

His dick twitched in his excitement. He pressed his cock against you again before thinking better of it and slipped his two fingers in first. "Let me work you open a little more or it'll hurt." He slipped a third finger in and watched discomfort flash across your features.

"It's gonna hurt either way. Just give me your cock." 

Killer grinned. "Yeah? How bad do you want it?" He removed his fingers and licked them off before slapping your pussy with his cock. 

"Please put it in. Please," you begged. "I wanna be filled up."

Your words turned into unintelligible babbling as he pressed into you. He went slowly, giving your body time to adjust to his. It did hurt, though it was only a sting. Killer pulled out and pushed back in a little more each time until he was fully sheathed in you. The feeling of being stuffed was almost enough to make you cum again. It felt like Killer's cock was up to your belly button.

"That tight little pussy took me so well." Killer pulled your hips tighter to him so you could feel how deep he was. "It's so tight I can barely move," he groaned into your ear. 

You felt your cunt clench around him at his words. You wrapped your legs around his middle as he started to pump in and out of you. You could feel every drag of his member against your walls. It wouldn't have been this easy if you weren't already so wet from your prior orgasm. There was barely a sting as he fucked into you harder. You were intoxicated by how good his cock felt inside you, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts.

"I can feel that cunt twitch. Is this virgin pussy gonna cum for me so soon?" Killer could feel his own orgasm quickly approaching. Your cunt was so wet and so tight around him, he knew he wasn't going to last from the start. 

That was all it took for you to unravel. You cried out again as a wave of pleasure gripped your body. There was an increase in slickness between your legs as you came.

"That's my good girl. Let that pussy cum all over me." Killer barely got the words out before his hips were stuttering and his eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned into your ear as he came. He pulled you to him and rolled on his side, still inside you. 

You both lay there panting, looking into each other's eyes. He leaned in to kiss you. You lazily traded kisses back and forth, running your hands over each other's bodies. Your kisses turned more fervent. Killer sucked at the skin on your neck, nipping at your collar bone. It didn't take long before you could feel Killer's cock get hard again. He looked at you with a question and you answered by rolling your hips against him. He positioned himself over you again, this time fucking you deep and slow. You felt his cum seep out onto your thighs with every lazy thrust. You were both blissed out from the quick, but intense session prior. Neither of you wanted to talk; this wasn't a time for teasing. This was about making each other know how you felt about the other. Kissing and saying it wasn't enough. You had to show each other the love you felt through actions, by becoming one. 

Hands wandered. Mouths explored but always found each other again. Tongues danced. Hips melted and flowed together. Neither of you were trying to find release, more like letting it find you. You were reveling in pleasure, but it was centered around the person rather than solely the orgasm. The only sounds were soft moans and perhaps murmured "I love you's". 

NEXT

Tag list: @bbnbhm @nocturnalrorobin @wgwingguns

[melleonis]

list of worm characters and how good they would be at force fem

beware spoilers

UNDERSIDERS Taylor (Skitter): unless there's an estrogen spider somewhere in the world, no shot Taylor (Khepri): unfortunately, unlimited power comes at the cost of a rapidly-dwindling understanding of gender Grue: lacks both the ability and the inclination. his fragile masculinity makes him a fine target, however. Tattletale: you'd think she'd be good at it, or at the very least sufficiently-advanced egg detection, but she also believes everyone on the team is straight, so this is gonna be a blind spot for her. Bitch: shockingly good at it if the end goal is puppygirl, stone useless otherwise. Regent: i mean. he could, but what's in it for him? easily bored, no patience for process. at best he could manage getting someone into a tutu for a lark before losing interest. Imp: gaslight girlboss of course she's gonna be great at this. what's this? all the contents of your underwear drawer replaced? you didn't do that... did you? who else could have? so you must have wanted this...right? Parian: if you will not wear the dress, the dress will have to come to you. Foil: nah

EVERYONE ELSE Accord: ugh who wants a tidy feminization? Bakuda: hey maybe you'll get hit with the fem grenade! probably you'll just die, or worse. Bonesaw: oh now we're talkin. unparalleled biomech horror force fem game. the mechanical spider tapped into your spinal column decides when it's time to get you prettied up for a tea party. Canary: shania twain karaoke incident feminizes twelve, birdcage for sure. Cherish: trivially easy to set up an emotional conditioning system. wearing skirt? dopamine hit! wearing pants? kill yourself - whoops. well, she'll have a lot of time at the bottom of the ocean to figure out correct feedback intensities. Clockblocker: in theory one should be able to get up to some mischief while someone is frozen in time, but i'm not sure dennis has the ability to freeze someone without also freezing their clothes, which means this has limited utility. could play a support role for someone else. Contessa: effortlessly trips you into a chain reaction that completely reshapes your life as part of a twelve-thousand step plan to improve humanity's long-term odds of survival by a fraction of a percent. thank you for your service. Echidna: all your evil monster clones are girls for some reason. whether this works depends entirely on how you respond to awkward post-incident questions your friends have about it. Eidolon: yeah i mean he could. but it doesn't make him feel globally, historically important so he's not gonna. Gallant: is "feminine" an emotion he can inflict? girl feelings beam attack? shame we'll never know, RIP. Gregor the Snail: nothing in canon says he can't secrete a mildly acidic ooze that turns you into a slime girl. Jack Slash: broadcast shard should in theory mean he can easily manipulate other capes into getting feminized, but that's less time spent on self-aggrandizing mass murder, so. Marquis: bone structure matters less than you'd think in the grand scheme of things, but yes he can reshape your jawline and cheek bones, give you those child-bearing hips. pros: he doesn't kill women, so you're that much safer. cons: it is going to hurt like a motherfucker. Number Man: oh no your company has fallen on hard times and you've been laid off! and how peculiar that the only business hiring anywhere near you is the maid cafe. it says they're very strict about their dress code but that's probably fine. and food's gotten so expensive but wait these odd imported protein shakes are absurdly cheap... Panacea: you know what the joke is already, come on. Scion: has Path to Victory and would never in a billion years think of using it for anything fun.

and finally,

the Simurgh: best in show. sure, it'll take four years for the triggers and conditioning to work their way through your subconscious but when they do...

BONUS Simurgh/Dragon double-team: Defiant probably never spent enough time close to the Simurgh to get affected, plus he had those high-tech earplugs he designed himself, so surely he's fine. nevertheless, his focus wanders during a critical moment while editing Dragon's source code, and now she's bossier, maybe even a little meaner, and the prosthetic parts she's making for colin's cyborg body are... different. curvier, softer. and every time he tries to find the problem in her code he gets distracted, and she gets more and more imperious. can he find a way out of the Simurgh's conditioning and his AI lover's domination? will he have to seek help from Saint - or worse, Teacher? surely they wouldn't take advantage of him in his vulnerable cyberdoll state?

[brute-luvr]

Intro thing

I go by KYNGFELL on pretty much all platforms, so you can use Kyng to refer to me, but calling me by my main oc, Dread, or my display, Brute is fine too.

I’m 19 and all of my ocs are adults, please keep that in mind if you’re a minor.

My requests are open, i’ll do my best to draw anything that you send me.

My art trades are always open unless stated otherwise.

I love seeing art of my ocs or of your ocs! I love seeing ocs and lore, feel free to send me a dm or send them in my ask box :]

My Monsters!

Dread, a HorrorFell au

Scribe, Ink!Gaster

Havoc, an ErrorReaper Grillby

Bear, a DustFell variant au

Tomb, a HorrorReaper au

[grenade-maid]

Signalis, Authority, and History

There's a level of nuance to how Signalis presents the violence of the authority of the nation that doesn't call attention to itself but which I really appreciate. Which is basically just, all the officers and cops and spies who make life hell for people like the Gestalt mine workers, Ariane, and the Itou family--we get little glimpses into who they are in Adler and Kolibri's diaries and despite the propaganda and the authoritative tone they take in official communications, for the most part they don't seem to actually be particularly invested in the hard line of national ideology. They uphold it though, viciously, both because things were worse under imperial rule (we don't get hard details on what it was like but it's mentioned in passing enough that I believe it) and because they're scared that if they don't they will be decommissioned and easily replaced. They are literally stamped out of a production line after all. There's a subtext of well, if I don't do it my replacement will anyway and I'm not trying to die so what's the point of rocking the boat?

I think Kolibri stands out to me most clearly on this because in communications from the block warden regarding Ariane there is emphasis put on how it is unacceptable and suspicious that she should be so interested and invested in art and literature that does not serve the purpose of furthering the goals of the nation. But we know that Kolibris themselves are bookworms, Adlers are fiends for stimulating experiences, and both get miserable FAST when deprived of art and puzzles and entertainment and hobbies. Y'know, just like anyone. Far be it from being a paragon of The Nation only interested in productive labor, we are reminded that the block warden, too, hates this shitty town and wants to transfer but is denied. They're hypocrites, but not monsters, nor brainwashed puppets of the state.

The monstrousness at play is not contained within any particular subset of evil individuals, or even an inherent universal force of evil contained in the broad notion of The Nation. There is no cosmic evil force that makes them all do these things to each other. The monstrousness is within the social systems, the mechanisms of how authority perpetuates on a structural procedural level, held in place by fear and tangible threats of violence, each link in the chain restraining the next through those threats out of fear that if they don't, then they'll be next. Regardless how many, if any, of those people in this chain are true dogmatic hardliners, they must act as such because failing to do so opens them up to danger.

Here then I think of the quote that is so prominent, "Great holes secretly are digged where earth’s pores ought to suffice, and things have learnt to walk that ought to crawl", from Lovecraft's The Festival. This is not just a chilling abstract visual that conveniently evokes a mineshaft-- in Lovecraft's story, this line refers to worms which ate the decomposing bodies of wizards whose wretched souls had remained after death, complete with the terrible powers they gained through contracts with demons. Those worms inherited both their power, and also the evil. The Nation, despite having overthrown the Empire, is built on imperial technology, in particular Replikas and bioresonance. So too, then, we can imply that The Nation inherited with those things some of the monstrousness of The Empire as well. There is no end of history, nor clean break with the past, no matter how violently it may seem to be rejected. That which remains from the past--and something inevitably always does--creates the present.

This is a game that is not shy about evoking East Germany. And I think all of this provides a sophisticated picture of repressive authority that we rarely see in fiction of the English speaking world, especially in games. The year the S23 incident takes place is notably 84, but, frankly, I find this to be more compelling and illustrative than 1984 (and I'm a librarian and have taught English classes so I get to say that). Orwell, let's be honest, presents a fairly one dimensional picture of authority, where people seize power and wield it against others out of seeming mustache twirling evil or malice.

Here though we get a more humanistic view. Authority did not come from nowhere and is not wielded arbitrarily out of gleeful cruelty or mindless brainwashed allegiance. People aren't "just following orders". Individuals have rich inner lives. They make decisions, and those decisions are based in the context they're in. Even the decision to carry repressive tools of the past into the present is a decision that was made strategically with the big picture in mind. Nobody woke up and decided to be evil that day. Everyone operates on self interest, and, we must assume, an earnest desire for things to get better. Even the [spoiler] program which served as an inspirational demonstration of The Nation's power, you can imagine the chain of officers and bureaucrats who genuinely wanted the people of the nation to believe in the future, to confidently trust that everyone was working together towards something great and beautiful. And, through a long chain of those people who couldn't say "No" without being decommissioned, we ended up with something unbelievably cruel.

We get to know Adler and Kolibri and the other officers not to say well they're human too, maybe it wasn't so bad that they condemned all those people to agonizing suffering, but to remember that if we keep looking for true monsters we will not find them. There are no monsters and there are no demons. There are only people making decisions. A better world is possible. A better world, where Adler is just a paper pusher who does puzzles after work instead of signing papers to authorize torture, where Kolibris are librarians instead of spies and cops, where EULEs can gossip and play piano and ARARs can do maintenance on facilities that don't contain torture rooms, is one that would not have led to the Ariane and Elster's tragic cycle and ultimate end.

Authority and its attendant cruelty is not contained, radiating forth from The Great Revolutionary and Her Daughter, it is within the social systems of control. When those two women die, that cruelty will continue so long as those social systems continue. Like Lovecraft's worms, no matter how long dead the evil of the past is, so long as it continues to be fed upon, that evil will not only remain, but evolve into something new in the present. A better world can't be achieved through the death of the old world alone, even if violent overthrow is warranted. There is no end of history. There is no clean break from the past.

"Men make their own history, but they do not make it as they please; they do not make it under self-selected circumstances, but under circumstances existing already, given and transmitted from the past. The tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living."

Karl Marx, The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte

[icanhearcolors]

Close Encounter pt. 3

Hello beautiful people! I have so many ideas for a camp / long rest scene but we gotta collect the companions first so please enjoy the obligatory Gale and Lae'zel chapter.

pt 1 | pt 2

Word count: 3.8k

You must be seeing things. You blink and rub at your eyes but when you open them again nothing about the morbid scene in front of you changes. There’s a mind flayer on the ground ten feet from you.

You turn to signal as much to Astarion, who must have fallen behind on the way up the hill, and jump out of your skin when you realize he’s standing an inch away- if that. 

“Good Gods you scared me!”

“You should be paying more attention. What if I were a blood thirsty vampire trying to sink my teeth into your pretty neck?” He teases. 

You point to the clear blue sky with raised eyebrows. The sun is mercilessly beating down on you both. The waves of heat are visible if you squint hard enough, and sweat slicks your clothes to your skin.

“I’d say under normal circumstances that would be unlikely.”

“True. And yet,” he grins, leaning down and snapping his teeth so close to your throat you feel his breath kiss your skin. Some self preservation instinct kicks in and sends you flying before you even process what’s happening. You jerk so hard you surely would have hit the ground if he didn’t catch you by the arm, cackling with self satisfied laughter. 

You rip your arm out of his grasp and glare.

“That wasn’t funny.”

“Aw come on, it was a little funny.”

“Can we focus please? There’s a mind flayer up ahead.”

The amused look is wiped off of Astarion’s face, replaced with surprise and then accusation.

“Why didn’t you say something?!”

“I’m saying something now aren’t I?” You hiss, returning your gaze to the twitching mass of purple amidst the wreckage up ahead that you believe to be a mind flayer.

“It looks injured. I’m gonna talk to it” You decide, more speaking your thoughts out loud than anything else.

“I'm sorry, did you say you were going to talk to it?! It doesn’t even have a mouth- get back here!” Astarion protests, but it falls on deaf ears.

You step toward the mind flayer, its tentacled face limp. This thing knows more than anyone how to get the worm out of your skull, and it is dying. Before you even decide to do it, your feet are carrying you forward. Astarion follows reluctantly behind.

The mind flayer is a disturbing looking creature. Purple in hue, covered in a film of viscous slime, oozing wine-colored blood. You turn to Astarion, a curious look in your eyes. You wonder if there are creatures even a vampire wouldn't drink from.

“I would rather starve.” He answers the question you hadn’t even asked yet, his nose wrinkling as he glares down at the monster.

That answers that. 

You turn your gaze back to the mind flayer, and notice its one visible orange eye is rolling in its socket. You resist the urge to put your knife through the twitching pink flesh of its brain. You need information more than you need revenge. You take a few steps closer, just a foot from it now, and when you glance back at its face you see that orange eye is now focused unblinkingly on you. You can’t look away. It looks pitiful, the poor thing, mangled by wreckage and its own crushed armour. When it comes to creatures who consume the life forces of others, miraculous things can happen when they feed. Perhaps you could find someone to sacrifice to this dying creature. No- it only has minutes to live, you need to sacrifice yourself. It’s for the greater good. This mind flayer has powers beyond your understanding, and you are but a lowly mortal. 

“Tav?” A voice somewhere very far away echos.

You ignore it. The fledgling that’s taken up residence in your brain would have turned you into a mind flayer within a few days anyway. Wouldn’t you rather save a life than create a new one? Your mind made up, you take another step towards its welcoming embrace.

An arm catches you around the waist. Someone pulls you backwards, away from the mind flayer. The tadpole in your brain wriggles violently in a way that causes splitting pain inside your skull. You wince and fall back into something, someone.

“It’s in your mind” They whisper, or shout, it reverberates in your pounding head regardless.

You wrestle with your battling emotions, the real contempt and the imposing compassion. The influence of the tadpole lessens now that you have been made aware of it, and you tamp it down to a dull throbbing at the base of your skull. You’re still connected to the mind flayer. You feel its disgust and hatred toward you. Similarly to what happened to you on the path with Astarion, your consciousness is ripped from your body and thrust into the mind of the dying monster. It is fantasizing about your subjugation. It wants to whip you and your companion until the skin is ripped from your backs while you bow before it. The rage you feel destroys whatever vestiges of influence the thing still had over you, and you use it to dive intentionally into the mind flayer’s intellect, searching for answers. You see through its eyes flashes of its story, its rebirth from man to monster, its care for the pool of tadpoles that now live in the brains of the ship survivors, and you feel its fear. 

It is terrified of death. 

You feel it’s consciousness slipping away quickly like sand through your fingers. Its brain is shutting down and misfiring. You have no idea how to pinpoint the information you’re looking for in the hurricane of foreign memories flashing before your eyes. Still, you are in control here. The mind flayer’s tadpole was meant to kill you, but as you stand over the dying illithid, holding what’s left of its life hostage in your hands, you realize that along with a time bomb in your skull it has gifted you a fraction of the power it wields. A sick sadistic pleasure fills you when you realize you could bend the mind flayer’s will to your own, just as it had done to you. The feeling terrifies you.

You let go of your grip on its thoughts and are flung back into your own body once more. The creature's eyes are unfocused and dim. With an angry shout you lift your foot and drive the heel of your boot into its squishy head.

It jerks, and then falls still- dead.

There is still an arm around your waist you realize, once you've come back to your senses.

You look down to find a pale hand, fingers splayed across your abdomen. You glance up at the owner of that hand, and find Astarion looking at the mess of a mind flayer carcass with a comically shocked expression. He glances at you, then back at the body.

“Perhaps I should do the talking from now on darling.” 

You roll your eyes and step out of his hold, striding toward the path again, but as you turn Astarion grabs the strap of the supplies pack flung across your shoulder and uses your momentum to turn you back around again. 

“Well hold on just a second! What was that?”

“What was what?” you bluff.

Astarion drops the strap of your bag to cross his arms over his chest.

“Oh so we’re going to pretend I didn’t just watch you offer your brain up for a snack, change your mind, practically pass out, then wake back up again moments later and squash the mind flayer’s head like a cockroach? Great. Carry on then.”

You shrug, nod, and turn on your heel.

“I was obviously being sarcastic!” He shouts, jogging to catch up with you.

“Are you mad at me for killing a mind flayer?” 

“Quite the opposite, I quite enjoyed the little show you put on. I just want to know why I had to restrain you from letting that thing snack on your skull. If you want someone to take a bite out of you darling I guarantee you’d have much more fun with me.” 

“I can’t imagine how being exsanguinated would be fun in any way,” you deflect. He takes the bait and smiles.

“No need to imagine it when I can show you,” his voice drips with a dark promise that heats your blood. Intrusive thoughts bombard you with images of him following through with that promise, and you dig through your pack for a bottle of water, taking several long sips. He tosses his head back and barks a laugh at your nervous reaction.

“This is fun. I’ve spent two hundred years hiding what I am, smiling with closed lips, hoping my charm or the dim lighting of a tavern was enough to distract whoever I was talking to from the fact that my eyes are crimson. There’s no reason to hide what I am with you, you already know. It’s nice to just be as I am.”

You stop so suddenly it takes Astarion a second or two to realize you’re no longer next to him. He tosses you a worried look over his shoulder and turns around to face you.

“Did I say something wrong?”

A warm feeling you’re not entirely familiar with but could get used to fills your chest. You’re honored to be the first person Astarion has been able to be himself with, even if that person is a relentless flirt with fangs. In a way, you feel the same. You have a lot of experience pretending to be someone you aren’t too, and Astarion seems to be bringing out a whole new side of you. Whether that's a good thing or not has yet to be determined. You have a feeling he wouldn't want you to make a big deal about this, so you say the first thing that pops into your head.

“They’re not crimson." You clarify when he gives you a confused look, "Your eyes I mean. They’re brighter than that, like this.”

You hold up one of the poppy-red colored health potions.

“What?” He asks in a low tone that you can’t quite decipher. The purple runes on the boulder you both stopped in front of begin to glow, but you don’t perceive any magical threat from them, so you return your attention to the vampire.

“Your eyes… they’re bright red. Startlingly so.”

Astarion places a hand on his chest. He looks absolutely devastated.

“Please tell me you’re lying,” He begs.

“I… I’m lying?”

“Oh this is bad. Really really bad.” He begins to pace a short line back and forth. You’ve never been so confused in your life.

“Do you not know what color your eyes are?”

He stops pacing and looks at you incredulously.

“Of course I don’t! I haven’t been able to see my reflection since this happened!” 

He pulls down the collar of his white undershirt and reveals two perfectly spaced scars on his neck. A bite wound.

You nod, still confused.

“Right… that makes sense.”

“I can’t believe no one told me my eyes were bright red. I'm going to have to throw away an entire wardrobe.”

Your concerned expression drops instantly, and you close your eyes, pressing your fingers into your temples.

“For the love of- please tell me you aren’t freaking out right now because your eyes don’t match your outfit.”

Astarion doesn’t appear to hear you, he continues to pace, muttering to himself.

“This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“What?” You shout, and he finally stops pacing, startled to a stop.

You genuinely can’t tell if this is an elaborate bit, or if he’s being serious.

“You were enslaved for two centuries and the worst thing that has ever happened to you is that you found out your eyes were a slightly lighter shade than you thought they were?”

Astarion doesn’t break your stare, he holds your gaze and without any discernible hint that he’s lying or telling the truth he says,

“Absolutely.”

You shake your head in mute disbelief, and reach into the bag you took off one of the dead passengers from the beach.

“What are you looking for?” Astarion asks, peering over your shoulder.

“Holy water.”

“Now wait just a minute-”

“Ahem”

Both you and Astarion leap into action at the sound of someone clearing their throat behind you.

Astarion whips the short bow off his shoulder and knocks an arrow so quickly you would have missed it if you blinked. 

You follow suit and pull your knife from your belt, turning to face the newcomer.

Your knife arm falls to the side, forgotten, when you take in the sight before you.

The glowing purple runes of the boulder were now spinning around a black hole, and sticking out of that void is a man’s arm.

An impatient and strained sounding voice, as if the owner is somewhere far away and has to shout to be heard, echoes out of the hole in the stone.

“I seem to be interrupting something, but I could really use a hand… anyone? Please?”

You sheathe your knife and step forward, glancing back at Astarion. He nods at the hand, his bow aimed at the swirling sigil. The unspoken message is clear. If anything goes wrong Astarion will shoot.

Comforted by that thought, you sidle up to the portal, an impulsive thought taking hold of you. 

What if you gave him a high-five?

You slap the hand.

Astarion snorts behind you, and the owner of the hand wags a finger at you.

“Perhaps I should have clarified. A helping hand please? I’m not sure how much time I have left before this portal closes, or what will happen if it closes while my arm is on the other side of it.”

With that in mind you abandon any notions of using magic to calm the sigil and just grip the hand in both of yours, pulling with all your might. There’s a terrifying moment when your grip slips, and you’re pulled partially into the portal as the owner of the arm falls back, but you regain your footing and try again.

This time it works, and a man launches through the portal a moment before it seals closed.

He lands half on top of you. Raising up on his arms, he looks down at you in wonder.

“You did it! I can’t believe that worked.” He laughs, sounding relieved.

“Ahem” Astarion clears his throat, much like the strange man did earlier.

His bow is trained on the stranger’s chest, his face passive, but in his eyes you see something darker than you’re used to seeing from him. 

The stranger scrambles back on his hands, standing quickly and dusting the dirt off of his robe. It looks expensive, the fabric is a thick rich purple overlaid with brown leather around his shoulders.. 

Astarion shifts the bow into one hand, and reaches the other toward you, eyes never straying from the man you just saved. You take his hand and allow him to pull you up, dusting yourself off as well. The man waves awkwardly at you both.

“Um. Hello. I’m Gale of Waterdeep.”

He lunges forward to grab your hand for a shake, but quicker than a snake strike Astarion’s bow is drawn again and aimed at his eye. He stumbles back, hands raised, and clears his throat nervously.

“Thank you for the rescue. My apologies, I’m usually better at this.”

“No need to apologize.” You place a hand on Astarion’s shoulder and he reluctantly lowers the bow.

“I’m Tav. My friend with the trust issues here is Astarion. Don’t worry, he warms up quickly. Are you okay?” you ask Gale.

“You were on the nautiloid weren’t you?” Astarion asks before he can answer, and now that you take a closer look you can see that yes, Gale does look familiar.

You study him for a moment. His shoulder length brown hair is swept back, revealing a silver earring in one of his ears. Your eyes travel down to his well kept beard, and further to a fragment of a tattoo that starts at the base of his throat and ends somewhere under his robe. He looks remarkably put together for someone who just fell out of the sky. 

“I was about to ask you the same. Back on the ship, you too were on the receiving end of a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region were you not?”

You and Astarion both nod.

“This insertee that we speak of, the parasite - are you aware that after an excruciating gestational period it will turn us into mind flayers? It’s a process called ceremorphosis, and let me assure you: it is to be avoided.”

Astarion side-eyes you, his eyes seem to convey a message.

I don’t like him.

You give him what you hope is an admonishing glare in response.

Be nice.

Gale doesn’t seem to notice.

“You don’t happen to be a cleric by any chance do you? A doctor? A surgeon? Uncannily adroit with a knitting needle?” He asks with a hopeful lilt to his voice and a flourish of his hand.

“Oh yes, Astarion here can knit with the best of them. Can’t you Astarion?”

The vampire twirls an arrow between his fingers and levels Gale with a bored look. 

“Define ‘needle’.”

Gale to his credit only eyes that arrow for a few moments before moving on.

“Well that’s not exactly what I had in mind. We’re most certainly going to need a healer, and soon too. How about we lend each other a helping hand once more and look for a healer together?”

You nod and smile at the charming, if not a little long winded stranger.

“I say the more the merrier. Astarion?”

Astarion turns to you, a bit taken aback.

“You’re asking my opinion?”

“Yes.”

Astarion looks at you, then at the grinning stranger in the purple robe, and sighs.

“Fine. You can keep the wizard, but if he has an accident I’m not cleaning it up.”

Gale furrows his brow.

“What is that supposed to mean? And how’d you know I was a wizard?”

“Because you smell like a library-” You clap a hand over Astarion’s mouth and immediately regret it when his eyes light up with what you know is the urge to bite your hand.

You pull away before he can make up his mind one way or the other. 

“Ignore my pale friend here, he gets cranky when he’s hungry, we should get going.” you say to Gale in an overly cheerful voice, who is now looking at you two with thinly veiled suspicion of some sort.

“You two seem close.”

You laugh, a bit hysterically.

“Would you believe me if I told you he tried to kill me an hour ago?”

Gale looks the pale elf up and down. He's still deftly twirling an arrow in his hand.

"I would actually." He says.

“I wasn’t trying to kill you, I was just prepared to do so if you didn’t answer my questions.”

“Oh okay, you should have told me that sooner Astarion that makes all the difference.”

You begin trudging along the path before you, unlikely companions in tow.

Astarion nods, his expression serious.

“I knew you’d see it my way.”

Gale walks in conflicted silence for a moment before curiosity seems to get the best of him.

"So if he tried to kill you, why are you traveling together?"

Astarion addresses the wizard before you can.

"Strange times make for strange companions Gale of Waterdeep."

~

The sun lowers steadily in the sky as you walk. It feels like walking is all you know how to do at this point. Gale and Astarion bickered for a little while over Astarion's refusal to call Gale anything except his full title "Gale of Waterdeep" but even that had died down as the heat and exhaustion caught up with them, too. Your legs burn and the temptation to turn in for the night plagues you, but you know the wilds of the sword coast are no place to sleep, and you repeat the mantra that has pushed you along these last few miles.

One more step. One more step. One more step.

You're brought out of your thoughts by a hand on your shoulder.

Astarion holds a finger to his lips and tilts his head toward the rocky hill in front of you. He hears something. Someone.

"Zorra was right. Yellow as a toad, and twice as ugly." a masculine voice spits.

"The thing's dangerous. Leave it for the Goblin's to kill." pleads a feminine one.

You reach the top of the hill. Shock freezes your blood when you see the thing they are arguing about. It's your Githyanki ally from the nautiloid, suspended in a tiny cage several feet off the ground above two tieflings. Your tadpole squirms as she meets your eyes, and this time instead of swapping minds, your minds seem to connect. She stares at you intently. Her lips don't move, but you hear her next words all the same.

You again. Get rid of them.

Well. The Gith are not exactly famous for their manners so you suppose the abrasiveness is to be expected.

"And if it escapes? How will you- oh. It appears we have guests."

The man catches your eye as you step into view.

You raise you hand in greeting and nod toward the trapped Githyanki.

"Oh she'll escape alright. The Gith are horribly tenacious creatures. Incredibly dangerous too. We have some experience with them. Why don't you leave her to us and we'll take care of it."

You lie through your teeth. Astarion and Gale nod along, but the three of you make a rather odd little group. Astarion looks the part of a Baldurian noble high elf, except his pupils are red and there's dried blood on his hands. Gale, the human wizard, would have no reason to have any experience with the Gith. And you, well you look like you just fell from the sky.

The tiefling hesitates. He's obviously suspicious of the three odd strangers who have appeared seemingly out of nowhere and offered to solve his problems, but the desire to no longer have the problems wins out and he nods, turning to his companion.

"She's right. Let's go. We need to check out that blast."

Your curiosity is piqued, but you want them gone as quickly as possible, so you don't ask about the blast. They take off down the path.

You turn to Lae'zel, suspended in what appears to be a goblin trap.

"Enough gawking!" She barks, "Get me down."

Maybe you're gaining some confidence out here in the wilds, maybe it's Astarion's influence, but the next words out of your mouth shock you.

"Say please."

Astarion laughs.

Lae'zel is less amused.

She rears back as if you just insulted her.

"Never."

You shrug, turning back to Astarion.

"Those teiflings looked well fed. I'll bet you there's some sort of civilization near by."

"I'll make that wager." He turns towards you, hiding his face from Gale, and gives you a devilish watch this smile.

"What say you Gale of Waterdeep?"

"If you say 'Gale of Waterdeep' one more time I will incinerate you."

Astarion winks at you before rounding on Gale, hand over his heart in mock betrayal.

"That's rather rude Gale of Waterdeep. I thought we were friends."

"Free me from this cage before I slaughter you all like the chattering animals you are!" Lae'zel hisses.

You look up at her with a frown. She sighs deeply.

"Please" She mutters.

Recognizing that's as good as you're going to get, you raise your hand, aiming for the ropes that tie the base of the trap to the rest of the cage.

"Ignis!"

Flame shoots from your hand and snaps the flimsy ropes. The bottom drops out of the frame and with it an angry Githyanki.

She lands in a crouch and stands slowly as you approach. You have to admit the move is pretty badass.

"It appears the tadpole hasn't scrambled all of your senses. Auspicious. But the longer we wait, the more it consumes. My people possess a cure for this infection. I must find a creche, you will join me."

How curious. You know a fair amount about the Gith, and you're quite sure lending a helping hand to others is not written in their doctrine.

"And what exactly is a... creche?" Astarion asks.

Lae'zel turns her withering stare to him.

"It is many things. A hatchery, a training grounds, a shelter. Githyanki protocol is clear: When infected with a ghaik tadpole, we must report to a caretaker for purification."

Gale crosses his arms.

"A simple thank you for saving your life wouldn't be amiss"

Lae'zel glares at the wizard, and he takes an intimidated step back, raising his hands.

"Or not."

She smiles, satisfied with that response.

"You might as well suggest a wyvern bow to worms. The cure I offer you will suffice as thanks."

It seems almost too easy, a solution to all your problems stands before you.

"I'm not so sure about this." Astarion mutters, and Lae'zel scowls.

She doesn't get a chance to respond, however, before the sound of pounding footsteps somewhere further in the distance has you all pausing to listen.

That's when you hear the screaming.

--------

Tag tiiiime

If you asked me to be tagged and I didn't include you please let me know, and if you didn't asked to be tagged and you are ~ You're stuck here now and I'm not sorry :b

@aoirohi

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@kamartsu

[heyitsghost57]

guys i just had a cotl dream n let me tell you i’m literally Massive Monster. it was a voiced trailer n Lamb’s name was Lambert Chippington!! n in the dream i literally went on tumblr to post about it 😭

there was also a worm n new toad enemies

for some reason, my mind came up with narilamb college au n i was like “hm i’m starting college soon, i should write that 🤔”

Kudaai was replaced by a different animal (i think it was a fox?) who took away all the weapons n forced Lamb to fight with weaker weapons

Rakshasa n his wife were also on the cult grounds! they were celebrating Lamb getting stronger in combat (post-Nari boss fight)

idk i’ll be drawing this out eventually. cool dream :3

[lastminutestarwarsfan]

Its honestly so painful to me, the sheer amount of turmoil that Anakin has experienced in his life. If you really sit down and think about what he's been through, he truly is one of the most tragic characters in fiction.

Born a slave to a single mother on a backwater, forgotten, barren world with no opportunities (Sidenote as much as we laugh at the "I don't like sand" meme, it actually is a meaningful line. He hates that world, that life, wants to put it behind him. Can't help but think of the mother he abandoned there)

Forced to choose between freedom and leaving his mother to her fate. A ridiculous amount of pressure to put on a 9 year old

Loses the only father figure he's had, and ultimately the only person to truly show faith in him, almost immediately after finding him

Becomes a burden and disappointment to a reluctant, inexperienced master (Before you come at me, I ADORE Obi-Wans and Anakins relationship. I love their banter, and I truly think they loved one another ridiculously and my heart breaks at what they became. But I do think that Anakin felt like a burden and disappointment sometimes. Especially at the beginning, Obi-Wan only really takes him on out of duty to Qui-Gon, it wouldn't have been his own choice. He didn't believe in him the way Qui-Gon did. And because Obi himself was grieving and young and inexperienced, he didn't have the confidence to guide Anakin the way he should have. He falls back on the rules too much, after bending them to take him on in the first place. He's too strict with him, too harsh. He doesn't tell him how much he loved him until it's too late, which just adds to the angst)

Is constantly told that he needs to let go of his attachment to his mother whilst being plagued my dreams of her death.

Watches his mother die in his arms with the knowledge if only he could have done something sooner he could have saved her (and this is the moment I think, pivotally, that his capacity for the dark side becomes real. Not the moment when he kills the Tuscans in anger just after. But in this quiet moment of death. The moment that voice in his head starts burrowing like a worm "Not enough, more, better, faster, stronger". If he could just burn hotter, brighter, push harder, then no one else would die.)

Is thrust into a war at 19

Is entrusted with a 14 year old apprentice at 20. Loves her like family only to watch the order he gave up everything for, the order that let his mother die, the order that is the reason he cannot have a normal life with his wife, drive his little sister away from him.

Plagued to madness by visions of his wife dying. Goes insane to try to save her only to be her own downfall. Is cut into pieces and left to burn alive by his brother. Suffers excruciating pain being pieced back together. Is forced to live with the knowledge that he led to the love of his life's death, where every breath is a reminder of the monster he has become.

Becomes increasingly aware that his new master, the only person he has left, the person he betrayed everyone for, the person he trusted in his times of need and thought understood him, would toss him away without a second thought and replace him with Luke.

That smile when he takes off the mask and looks at Luke in Return of the Jedi means so much. It's so pure, and light and carefree for those few seconds. The first time we've ever seen him truly at peace. He is finally free from the pain.

[pollsonmorenichetopics]

Disproportionate Retribution Poll Round 3 Side B:

Jonathan Sims' (The Magnus Archives) Disproportionate Retribution:

"He took a job as an Archivist with absolutely no qualifications and was mean to his coworkers.

Then he got eaten by worms, stabbed by the incarnation of madness, chased by a monster that had replaced his friend, framed for murder, burnt to third degree, sent plummeting for a 20 minutes long fall, almost got his throat slit by a police officer who kidnapped him, was kidnapped again by mannequins for a month, was later kidnapped a third time by two serial killers, exploded, had two of his ribs removed, went into a coffin of endless terror, saw a sun that would have made blind and mad any other, was made evil and forced to kickstart the apocalypse against his will.

I think that speaks for itself.

Poor Jon."

Sabo's (One Piece) Disproportionate Retribution:

"well there's a bit of a list from childhood. Mainly what I had in mind when I thought of him was:

1st: he ran away from an unloving home (crime) and was forced back with the threat that if he didn't cooperate, his friends (who he saw as his brothers) would be killed for "kidnapping him" -which they didnt do btw (punishment)

2nd and the main one: he took a lil fishing boat w a homemade pirate flag to leave the island at the same time that a government ship was arriving with a world noble. His "crime" was being an eyesore and daring to be in the water at the same time as said world noble was arriving, and the punishment was being shot (with intention to kill) by the world noble (who's above the law)

Spoilers: although I am not fully caught up i do know he survived this attempt, but within the story, for years, everyone who knew him believed him to be dead. Regardless of surviving or not, being shot at just for existing is a bad enough, unreasonable punishment, I'd say. Especially considering he was like 10."

[assmaster-8000]

I need to know all your thoughts of cecile

i need to preface this spiel with thanking you for opening my can of worms. will this satiate my endless need for this freak? maaaybe not. but like gay sex, it's a temporary fix and by god will i take it.

so, this post will delve into multiple aspects of my thoughts on cécile. i'll have to section it because if not, you'd probably just have a post the equivalent of a werewolf barking at their reflection in a mirror. here they are;

i. visual design

ii. personality and traits (backstory) / character development + his romance arc

iii. comparison to other characters + what made him stand out to me

no read more will be added on this post because i'm forcing everyone to either scroll past a wall of text or indulge my insanity. is this analysis? my simple thoughts? who fucking knows, man. not me. i don't know anything ever. everything is speculation, because my man's ain't even in the demo yet. ask me this question again when the extended demo drops LMFAO

i. visual design

the most notable aspect to cécile is his metal jaw, facial scar, and black eye.

his metal jaw had me in a pickle. for the longest time, i thought it was a prosthetic. as in, he had his lower jaw removed - regardless of how and why - and it acted as a replacement. however, on the ravenstar tiktok account, they show a draft of cécile's sprite that caught my attention.

he doesn't have his metal jaw, nor his iconic scar or black eye. he does have his original lower jaw, though. maybe this is just a draft before they settled on his current design. maybe this is how he looked in the canon past. maybe! but on top of seyl (the director of lost in limbo) confirming that cécile still has his tongue, i believe he was always intended to have his lower jaw. so the prosthetic is out of the picture.

right now, i believe it's more like a retainer; teeth appears to literally be growing out of his cheek, and i don't think it's the teeth in his mouth jutting out. i can't tell what exactly is the cause of all this, too. my favourite medical student (bean ily muah) said his facial scar appears to have been caused by a controlled flame, and shrapnel to the face based on the scarring around his lip. so he could have suffered an act of assault (physical? magical?), an accident, or maybe he's afflicted with a curse that developed teeth on his skin + his red eyes. could he be turning into a monster as time passes?

i also find it incredibly tragic that his eyes used to be brown before The Incident (air quotes). there's always something inherently tragic about the mundane being unattainable - to think that of all things in the world you are forbidden from, you are barred from the sweet innocence of adam and eve, rather than the glorious garden. brown eyes are the most common eye colour here on earth; imagine how cécile feels, the interloper with a face unmarred. a face that was once his. his dislike towards mc runs deeper than his dislike for everyone specifically because they're a harbinger of danger to the master he protects, and they could just be the past he's been hiding like a wound underneath his clothes.

the gaze of his bloodthirsty eyes... is it really? as in, always bloodthirsty? or is it so because it's your blood he needs on his hands?

aside from the practicalities of his metal jaw, i just think it's super... metal. (i wink at a camera offset and i proceed to get shot a million times. where were these snipers at the trump speech smh)

cough... anyways. i think it's bias, but one of my own oc's has a metal jaw prosthetic because they lost theirs in a fight long ago, so you can imagine i morphed into the spiderman pointing at spiderman² meme when i saw him. it's just automatically intriguing when the character's face is unapologetically damaged, unapologetically different. cécile and lázaro attracted my attention instantly because of how unique they look, and i appreciate that cécile's face does all the talking of his character while his attire is rather subdued. (even that itself speaks for him tbh)

as for my personal feelings, i appreciate a man with a long/wide nose. hit tweet, let doja cat smite me down herself.

now, as for his sprite's body language. i was rather taken aback at the fact that cécile has a less imposing stance than envy - yes, there's a defensive undertone to the way he holds his hands in front of him, but it's not to close him off from the world the way envy's crossed arms communicate that. in fact, cécile appears to be comforting himself. most people who hold/rub their own hand tend to do so because they're revolving a subtle conflict within themself. it doesn't help that the hand being held is the one that appears to have suffered the brunt of whatever he endured, based on the scars around his wrist. he could be holding it because it's instinct - to protect the side of him that was hurt the most. cécile is a weapon of war and a shield to his very core. he hurts others, and i don't think it'd be a stretch to say he hurts himself (why wouldn't he? the man that stares back in the mirror is so very wretched and it wouldn't be wrong to want to tear it all away.) cécile protects others (literally only gael) from the world, and cécile protects himself from the world and the additional enemy of himself.

he is a walking wound of all that has happened to him, and he knows acutely where the gash continues to weep.

yet, his cocked head also denotes a level of serenity that not even envy has. atleast, that's what it reads to me. it could also be an expression of interest in his surroundings, and hence, he's actually more on guard than envy. he doesn't keep his arms crossed, and instead in a stand still, because he constantly needs to be ready to pounce. maybe!

back to his attire. i adore the idea that gael actually picked it out for him. cécile is, technically, a representative of gael, so it makes sense his attire needs to hint at that, with the purple and all. but again, i would like to think of gael comparing outfit after outfit on cécile, engaging his opinion on which he thinks is best - and all cécile offers is, "whatever you deem is best, i will accept." (never ask this hoe where he wants to eat /j). one of the few things gael can do for a man like cécile is offering him a part of him to carry around.

also, for anyone who missed it - cécile has freckles ;)

ii. personality and traits (backstory) / character development + his romance arc

cécile is stated to be an istj, and seyl confirmed he's likely to be a scorpio sun. if so, loyalty is legitimately built into this man. a man if the fates wept tears of their eternal duty onto the spool when they wove his life into existence.

his reliance on the past + his traditions is gonna be like a pair of crutches to a man with both legs lobbed off. routine is the prison that keeps him going - break it, and you break him. after all, experience is all he has to go off of. as much as he may try not to linger on his past - that's exactly what he does. his memories are like ghosts in the corner of his bedroom. every good and bad experience, and by god is there a plethora of the latter, stands out like bruises he can't stop pressing down on. that's why i believe it's especially harder for you to gain cécile's worship; gael is all the good he's known, and you're just a strange human. why would he love you, a fickle being that can barely stop themself from being killed by him, when he could have an immortal sovereign? why, indeed. and it's gonna be especially hard for a man like cécile to grow accustomed to a love that's soft, because he's known violence all his life. he was born of it, made of it, and will be undone by it. that's all he can offer you, so he will expect the same from you the day he accepts you.

also, like... cécile literally fits the bill of scorpio's holding life long grudges. aside from protection, his primary desire is vengeance. and it's not something you can dissuade him from. why would you? you loved cécile because he's a walking bundle of rage and despair. you love him because his heart bleeds on you like an open wound. you will kiss the blood off his lips after the carnage - yours? his? someone else's? who cares, it's ours - and he will only sigh on yours, a thank you for being the best constant in his life of spite.

i can also see where cécile's need for domination comes from, with that extraverted thinking (Te). he may be a bodyguard in subservience to a god, but even they must know when and where to call the shots. it's very clear that control was robbed from him repeatedly ("[...] those who snatched his soul away from him—"), so it comes as another instinctual need to maintain control in every situation. and if he must trap it in the iron-fisted palm, so be it. that's exactly why cécile, like envy, benefits from an mc who knows how to push past sharp commands and loud warnings to chase after him. he relies on people shrinking away from him when he snaps to establish a clear line of boundaries. ultimately, it is by obeying caution that you'll never romance him, because you're playing into what he wants - and what he wants is you away from him. he needs an equally dominant person in a way that has them constantly battling for ultimate dominance, or maybe someone who is more dominant, but not in a way that completely imposes on him. in a way that shows him why exactly you can be his new master, y'know? in this life, everything is chains and prisons to cécile. it's just a matter of picking the most luxurious one. if you're shameless about what you can offer him, he might just take you up on it.

i think it's pretty obvious that cécile has volatile emotions hidden underneath (aries moon maybe???). he buries his softer sentiments deep below, where they lie, they run rampant. i'm a little unsure as to how this'll manifest, but cécile obviously can be soft and sentimental when he wants to, especially or only when the mc isn't looking. he traces their face in the dead of night - he alleviates their burdens behind their back - his favourite sex position is one where they can't see his face, but he can service them just fine. he can be vulnerable, but he doesn't want you to see him when he chooses to be once in a blue moon, lest you get the impression that there is a secret goodness to this violence. there isn't. he's not like envy - standoffish and cruel on the outside, soft and pliable underneath. no, peel away layer and layer of rage and you'll find more rage. crack away at that and you'll find a hollow heart. he's doing it because every human, no matter how depraved, is capable of SOME tender intimacy.

also, man. i think switching his loyalties is gonna be the equivalent of ripping all his skin off. like, yes. he loves you. the need to worship is strong, but it is unbidden for a reason. it is essentially betraying gael, isn't it? loving someone else? a man like cécile has a lot of 'love' in his heart, and all that love can only be directed at one person.

now... extraverted intuition? coupled with his scorpio sun? i imagine it feeds into the possession and obsession. it's less about worrying that you might look at others - it's about knowing that everyone has their eyes on you. it's an irrefutable fact, that there's a bounty like a guillotine on your neck. and he promised to protect you. he did, he promised. and he will, no matter what it demands of him, because you're the one thing that makes it all worthwhile and he'll be damned if the world takes more from him.

i don't know if i can sum his personality up, and i'm not interested to. he's an enigma, and i prefer complexity. as for his character development? i don't know. i really don't know. would it be bad to say? that i don't want him to get 'better'?

the appeal of cécile is that he can't offer you a 'normal' love that even a god, for all they're entrenched in, can offer you. his love is always bloodied. his love is always cruel. his love is all-consuming, like a punch in the mouth.

i think the one thing i wanna see, or predict for him to have, is to learn that there is someone who will do more than passively accept him. there is someone who actively desires him - needs him, even, in all his depravity. i want him to realise that he's not the only one who loves like he's the forest fire, and they're the forest or the witness. fire meets fire. violence for violence, like beasts.

maybe i want to see him become more open to someone calling the shots for him? and know that he can trust them, that they won't use him like everyone else has. honestly, it's difficult to not 'use' him. he's a lover, a weapon. the only difference is the affection in your grip when you swing his blade down to take another head. i want romancing him to come slow yet fast, harsh and cruel and intimate. i don't want the devs to feel like they need to water his morality or cruelty down, because like... isn't that his whole appeal. he's a killer and a sinner and that's why you love him. so on that note,

iii. comparison to other characters + what made him stand out to me

i originally was not interested in lost in limbo, because i tend to prefer darker horror. that changed when i saw lázaro, because the knife scene made me believe they were a FREAK freak. turns out they're pretty chill; and that's simply not my cup of tea, so my interest waned even more.

until i saw cécile.

my favourite romance trope of all time is obsession, but it's something i abstained from for so long because it's ALWAYS one-sided. with cécile, there's the strong potential that you're mutually obsessive, because let's face it. you won't be able to get anywhere with cécile without matching his freak. AND I MATCH HIS FREAKY I LOVE HIS NASTY!!! I LOVE UNAPOLOGETICALLY VIOLENT CHARACTERS!!! I LOVE CHARACTERS WHO UNAPOLOGETICALLY KILL AND MAIM AND DESTROY!!!! FUCK!!!!

i am not someone who is made to enjoy the tender mundanity of love. i want to be loved like a body hits the pavement below and that is exactly what cécile is.

i think the biggest difference is that cécile's whole romance with mc, aside from his loyalty to gael, relies on the dilemma of knowing he's just a man. the main cast are gods, they can afford to put up a better fight against whatever is ailing the two of you.

but cécile? he has almost nothing. he's just a dog, after all. he'll fight tooth and claw just to keep mc because there is quite literally nothing else he can do in the face of it all. and i love that it would make his route a lot more desperate. in life, we will all suffer so very beautifully. he might as well be your suffering, in name and heart. then, is he truly yours. then, are you truly his.

also, i adore the fact that cécile is the only openly hostile love interest to mc! envy has that ease to growing flustered that endears him even in the face of his... lack of manners. but cécile's only official existing line of dialogue is warning you to stay out of his way lest he gives you a quick death. STAY AWAY is literally printed in big, bold, black letters on his forehead, and i don't doubt he isn't afraid to be the one to kill mc.

AND I LIKE THAT OK!!! GIVE ME A CHALLENGE!!!

i think that is... the brunt of my thoughts, off the top of my head. feel free to ask me any more questions and i will try to go in depth but for now... we rot. @ravenstargames this is all your fault cécile is chasing me around in his basement AND I CAN'T GET OUT

[yunalinwrites]

saved by the bell (sneak peek) | fushiguro toji x reader

summary: fushiguro toji never makes first moves--until he happens to meet the teacher of the son he hasn't seen in years.

strangers -> fwb -> lovers

takes place in 2006 around the star plasma vessel/hidden inventory/premature death arc; megumi is a first grader

about reader: female, around 30 or older, teacher, has a soft spot for megumi, speaks kind of formally, has daddy issues

warnings: none rlly rn, toji's kind of an ass

notes: not sure how many chapters this'll be total but this is only the beginning of the first chapter; currently working on the third. also familymart is a japanese convenience store chain

hope u like!

He'd only just stepped out of the FamilyMart, been on the street for all of two seconds before he heard the call of his name.

"Fushiguro?"

It was tempting, given the desperation in the repeated shouts, but he didn't bother looking towards their source. It's not like he really recognized the voice, and he sure as hell wouldn't recognize her face; he made it a point to never look them in the eye.

"Fushiguro?"

It was starting to become irritating, though. It was nasal, kind of sounded like the one from last week... No, a broad like that would know better; she played the same games he did. So, maybe the one from last night? Yeah... Didn't seem like she knew how to keep her strings to herself.

"Fushiguro!"

Well, whoever it was, she was only getting closer. The calls were getting louder, and so was the splash of her heels against the wet concrete. Realizing this, he shut his eyes and drew a deep breath through his nose, letting the rain run down his dark hair, over the scar on his lip, and into his mouth as he opened it and whipped his head around in annoyance.

"Thought I told you not to--"

"Sorry, excuse me!"

You shoved past him, catching his widened eyes with yours for but a moment before continuing to run frantically and nearly slipping when you came to a halt and crouched down.

"Fushiguro!" you exclaimed, adjusting your umbrella to accommodate the little boy. "There you are. I told you not to run off like that!"

The boy kept a fixed gaze ahead of him, only interrupting it to wipe his eyes as the rain dripped into them, his usually spiky black bedhead weighed down completely against his face.

"Where on earth did you go?" you asked, examining him for clues.

"There's a monster," he replied plainly.

Finding nothing of note, you checked your watch with one hand and used the other to hastily grab his, barely registering his claim.

"Well, there certainly aren't any monsters on the bus. Not to mention, it's warm and dry. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Your phone vibrated in your coat pocket with a wave of texts--the faculty group chat, you figured--as you moved to obstruct his view with a smile. "Your classmates are wondering where you went."

Still unfazed, he tugged on your blouse and pointed. "Can't you see it?"

You didn't really have time to humor him--the incessant pings now replaced by your melodic ringtone--but still, your eyes followed the end of his little pointer finger, looking hard for a monster but finding only a man.

You scanned the sight as much as the umbrella would let you, the spokes ending just below his eyes. There wasn't any "big purple worm" that you could see, like the boy was mumbling on about, but you weren't really listening; what you were looking at at the moment didn't make you feel much safer--a bulky, brick wall-like frame hidden behind a black T-shirt and gray sweats, a fist clenched tightly around the handle of a milk jug, and, most notably, a rugged scar running perpendicular to scowling lips.

Quickly, you pushed the boy's hand down, not even thinking to correct his rude gesture as your voice darkened, "Come on, we need to go."

You stood up from your crouch, pulling the boy along with urgency and speeding up as you passed the stranger, the umbrella angled so it sheltered the boy and covered your face.

The man watched you walk away, staring at your polka-dotted umbrella, trying to burn holes into it, but to no avail; you simply disappeared into the crowd of the street without so much as a glance back.

When he was sure you were gone for good, all he could do was look down at his clenched fist. All he could do was look at the milk jug it held, and think about what just happened, how comical it was.

He'd only just stepped out of the FamilyMart, been on the street for all of two seconds before he heard the call of his name--his son's name--for the first time in three years.

***

plz follow for more! hopefully i can post the rest soon :)

[turtleblogatlast]

Damn, I just imagined what the sequel would be like:

After Dum Dum's morning medical check-up, Donnie headed to his laboratory. Upon entering, he went directly to his chair in front of the large digital screen of his computer, turning behind him to check that there were no intruders in the area. of his work. When he confirmed one hundred percent that there was no one, he turned his gaze back to the screen, grabbing the mouse and directing it to the recordings of the communicators, specifically Leo's. From his battle shell she took out some popcorn and a canned soft drink, settled into his chair, to finally listen to the recording.

"Lou Jitsu and Jupiter Jim: Hot Soup and Alien Worms - Episode 18: The Ambush of the Alien Worms"

Leo's voice on the communicator began to narrate and Donnie just listened.

…

The recording was at minute 18, the chapters normally lasted between twenty-one to twenty-three minutes, so it wasn't long before the plot ended in this episode. The narrative directed Lou Jitsu and Jupiter Jim being surrounded by the enemy, with no line of escape. Donatello leaned forward in his chair as if this way he could hear better, even though he was wearing his headphones.

"- Well, Jim… it was a pleasure fighting by your side.

-The pleasure was all mine.

The alien worms pounced of them.

Will this be the end of Lou Jitsu and Jupiter Jim? Don't miss it in the next episode Lou Jitsu and Jupiter Jim: Hot Soup and Alien Worms - Episode 19: A Promise to the Stars"

The recording ended there, Donnie was left with his heart in his mouth because of the suspense of that ending, although he said to himself that episode 7 was even worse. He wanted to know what happened next, reviewing the recordings, there was only one left, thinking it was the final chapter, he clicked. The only thing he heard was creaking and grunting, loud banging sounds and metallic clashes. Was he using realistic sounds for the battle scenes? That is new.

"What, you finally realized that your life is insignificant, that you can no longer fight for it?"

The Kraang, it was the voice of the Kraang.

"Heh, in your dreams mutant mucus"

The next thing you heard was a slimy sound and Leo's voice screaming.

"At least your blood manages to combine those horrible marks you have"

If what he heard was horrible to Donnie (he didn't even know why he was still listening), the next thing was the worst sound he could have heard in his entire life.

Leo's crying, desperate, scared… alone, alone with that monster.

He couldn't take it anymore, his hand moved on its own, advancing the recording, only to hear Mikey's voice shouting for Leo's name.

"Hey guys, took you long enough"

It was the moment they had rescued him.

-End of recording-

Donnie removed the headphones and his gaze stayed on the screen for a long moment, thinking. Thinking about what he had just heard, analyzing the previous recordings with the last one, realizing that all those recordings of Leo narrating were much deeper than he believed. Before, I thought this fanfiction was nonsense and out of curiosity I grabbed it as entertainment, but for Leo it was something else, it was the only way in which Leo could be united with the world he had left, telling stories, it was his entertainment. He was his own sanity, he was his only company, listening to himself on a recording, like a narrator's voice in an action series, listening to his happy voice to replace the moments where he was crying or screaming.

This was the only thing Leo had left in that prison.

If he hadn't listened to that last recording, he might have tried to figure out how he was doing the next episode, perhaps with the rat fever in its stage 6, but now that doesn't matter anymore. He got up from his chair and left the laboratory, heading to the medical room, only to find Leo alone on the stretcher, watching how he trembled in his dreams, nightmares that surely took him back to that horrible place. He stayed next to him, caressing his shell so that he knew that he was no longer alone, and that he would never again need recordings and stories for company, now he was home with his family and Donnie was going to make sure of that.

----

Hey, I hope you don't mind this idea that occurred to me and is not my language, sorry if there was any mistake.

If you don't like me, I understand.

[ cw: torture implied / trauma / ]

❤️ I don’t mind at all, I love this! It adds such a sad but true note to my silly post, and I think you conveyed the nuance of the situation really well! Because yeah, although it’s funny to think about Leo making up crossover fanfiction of all things during his time in the Prison Dimension, it doesn’t change what he went through there, it just makes it more bearable for him.

Great writing, thank you!!❤️❤️

[bloodfreak-boyking]

Thinking about S8 again and how Sam didn't wanna hunt alone and like...yeah. No shit. I think it's VERY fair that he doesn't want to hunt without Dean, especially considering his track record with it:

Mystery spot - Dean dies "for real" and for six months Sam is a a terrifying, cold, and robotic kind of unhinged killing machine. He still sets out two meals, lets hunting consume him completely, even cuts off contact with everyone unless they have info on the trickster.

Dean goes to hell: Sam hunts alone, tries to basically go out suicide by hunting. Ruby worms her way into his life by being Off Brand Dean Replacement and gets him addicted to demon blood. He's so consumed by the thought of revenge against Lilith for holding Dean's contract that he destroys himself (and helps start the apocalypse) in the process.

Dean's living his normal life with Lisa: Sam hunts alone and hurts a LOT of people. He's soulless during this time, but he DEFINITELY still blames himself for it. And to be honest, the only difference I see between Sam during the other times Dean isn't alive/around to hunt with him and his soulless era is that soulless Sam doesn't have the anger Sam did. But the actions, I could ABSOLUTELY see regular Sam committing them in an effort to save Dean if it came down to it.

(This one's in s9, but it still follows a very clear and fucked up pattern we see) Dean's a demon: Sam tortures demons in a way that makes them think he doesn't have a soul. He also leads a guy into a "fake" demon deal knowing full well he'll sell his soul and go to hell, all just to maybe find Dean.

Conclusion: Sam knows the kind of monster he turns into when he's hunting without Dean so he only wants to hunt if his big brother is there to keep him grounded.