#omg this is so embarrassing tagging all of this

[imsofreakingtired]

omg hiiii!! i’ve been reading your blog or on the sevika tag and always end up back at your page so it’s time to make a request 😈

could i request for a hurt n comfort with reader who struggles with self worth and often results in isolating themselves with sevika comforting them? 🤗

hello hi :D ty for readingg! ...and oomph this one hits hard for me lmao

i always want you when i'm finally fine

content warning(s): blood, injury, heavy (ish?) angst, hurt/comfort

"will you let me, baby, lose on losing dogs? i know they're losing and i'll pay for my place by the ring, where i'll be looking in their eyes when they're down, i'll be there by their side"

~~~

You’re spiraling again. The sentence flickers like a dumb warning across your brain. Of course you are. You didn’t need the fucking news flash. 

You angrily rip off a piece of the tattered cloth with your teeth and press it against the wound in your side. It’s still seeping blood, but not as much as before. You bite down on the pain and let it take over, hold the reins, hoping it’ll distract you from the other things. The worst things. 

What was that, the third mission you messed up on? 

Nice going. Yeah, very nice going. You’re a great fucking help to Sevika. 

You press hard against the wound and involuntarily let out a yelp of pain. “Shut up,” you mutter to yourself. “Shut up.” 

You’re so fucking worthless. What if the crew got caught? 

“No one got caught,” you whisper aloud. “It was just a slip-up. Just a slip-up.” 

A slip up. How many more will there be before you learn your fucking lesson? 

You let go of the cloth, reach for the bottle of alcohol on the floor beside you.

What if things had gone worse?

You bite the cork out of the bottleneck and spit it across the room.

What if something happened to Sevika because of your SLIP-UP?

“FUCK!” 

Your head knocks back against the wall, eyes shut tight in agony. An explosion of hellfire spreads, bomblike, through your midsection. The alcohol dribbles down your side and into your waistband. 

Worthless. Worthless idiot. 

“Shut up!”

“Who are you telling to shut up?” 

You look up quickly. Sevika stands at the top of the stairs leading into the basement. You hadn’t heard her open the door. A cigarette dangles from her lips and the smoke curls in the dusty air as she walks down the steps and toward you. She crouches down in front of you and sees, for the first time, your bloodstained shirt. Her eyes widen slightly. 

“Shit. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were tagged?”  

You’re embarrassed that she caught you in this state, you’re furious at yourself that you let her catch you. So you knock her hand away when she reaches for you. “I’m fine,” you snap.

She scoffs. “Right.” When you don’t move your hands from your body, she stubs out her cigarette and grabs your hand, pulling it away from the wound. She frowns. “The hell did you do, throw liquor on it?” 

“I can handle it. Leave me alone.” 

“Can’t see well in this light,” she grunts. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

“Fuck off,” you hiss, and your voice is all the more fierce, because you can feel the tears rising in your throat when you see her concern—a concern, you think, that you don't deserve. And you’re panicking because if she sees you cry, she’ll know for sure that you are weak. She’ll see that you’re not worth her time. 

You expect her to get angry, storm off with a huffy “fine.” But she doesn’t. She assesses you calmly, one eyebrow raised, as if your emotions amuse her. 

“I’m fine,” you say again, blinking hard and avoiding her gaze. “Just—leave me alone.” 

At last, she stands, and you think bitterly that you’ve won. You wait until you hear the door shut behind her before you let out a deep, shuddering breath, a breath that was collecting like poison in the pit of your stomach since you let Sevika into your life, a breath that begged for someone to return it to your body. You wanted her to take care of you. You wanted it so badly. 

But you felt like you didn’t deserve it. 

The worst of the moment is over, and the tears do not come. You sit there with your back to the wall, listening to the throb of your heart, feeling the steady burn of pain in your abdomen droning through your body. 

Then the door opens again. 

Sevika comes back down the stairs, business-like, with a roll of bandages and a small bottle tucked under her human arm. Her mech arm carries a chemtech oil lamp. She kneels down again on the floor in front of you, setting down the objects.

“What are you—”

“Shut up.” She pushes the bottle to your lips. “Drink this.” 

You open your mouth and drink, because it saves you at least for a moment from talking. The whiskey is strong and hot going down. It tastes like Sevika. 

She cleans your wound and wraps it with a dexterity that came from having done it on herself countless times before. “Leave you alone?” she echoes back to you. “The hell I will.” 

When she’s done, she takes her cloak off and wraps it around your shoulders. Her sharp grey eyes, like the beam of a lighthouse that never misses the lonely boats drifting out in the dark sea, seek yours. 

“You’re my girl,” she tells you in a softer voice. “And I look after what’s mine.”

~~~

thank you @lez-zuha for the req :)

[kenchann]

🎃⚡🎃 + bits of yuri (ﾉω〃) yeah

[billdenbrough]

cannot possibly express enough how strange this one is. ok. @naturecalls111 prompted me (technically for microfic monday, but it was quickly determined to be untenable) kevaaron + frogs. there was an additional, informal element to the prompt she wanted that rocketed it from 488w (already egregious) to 1.6k (don't look at me), but i'm already wrestling with my psyche enough abt this one lmao. we'll leave that part to be a surprise so i don't have to think about it anymore HAHA. i guess. anyway. kevaaron + frogs, for mina.

“This is your fault,” Aaron says.

Kevin is affronted. “How could this be my fault!”

“Nobody cares enough about what I do to curse me,” Aaron points out, huffy. As huffy as a frog can be, anyway. “But you? Absolutely. You’re also really annoying.”

Kevin sulks.

“How sure are you?” Neil asks, following Nicky into the room. “I mean. Frogs?”

Nicky gives him an incredulous look, then snatches Kevin off the desk. Kevin makes the world’s most indignant croak, which everyone rudely ignores, except Aaron, who rolls his eyes.

“He has a queen mark,” Nicky exclaims, brandishing Kevin at Neil. “What kind of frog has a tattoo?”

Neil stares at it, then sighs. “Okay. Sure. Why not. So it’s Kevin. How do you know it’s Aaron with him?”

“Kevin wouldn’t leave without him, so it had to be one of us,” Nicky explains. Kevin thinks this is an optimistic reading of his character. “Which already probably meant Aaron, but I’ve confirmed he’s the only one also missing. So.”

“How did this happen?” Neil muses, sitting down on Kevin’s bed. His bed is right there. Kevin strongly considers kicking him. Except he doesn’t have the right feet.

Almost immediately after he has that thought, his mouth opens—without his express permission—and his tongue goes flying, a projectile aimed right at Neil’s face.

Neil barely manages to dodge, throwing up his arms and falling backwards quickly enough that Kevin’s tongue narrowly misses his skin. (Thank God.) 

Nicky squawks, dropping Kevin, who thankfully lands on the desk. Aaron is watching Neil with interest. And Kevin—

Kevin is just pleased his aim and ability to forcibly correct Neil’s behaviour is still intact.

“Oh, gross,” Nicky complains. Neil looks relatively unruffled, though he shoots Kevin a slight glare before moving to his own bed. Thank you.

“Yep, that’s Kevin,” Neil mutters. “I wonder how Aaron got wrapped up in this.”

Nicky cocks his head.

“Assuming turning people into frogs is a real thing—which, okay, yeah—then I have to assume it doesn’t happen randomly,” Neil says. “And as annoying as Aaron can be—” Aaron rolls his eyes. Again. “—It’s gotta be Kevin, right? The reason?”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense,” Nicky says immediately. Which is so rude.

“Maybe they were together?” Neil muses aloud.

“Or it’s like a fairytale,” Nicky says. At Neil’s confused—and slightly judgemental—look, he elaborates, “You know, like, The Frog Prince! Or The Frog Princess! Or—that movie coming out, the Princess and the Frog!”

“This is too many frogs,” Neil mutters, but looks attentive. “So what’s the common theme? Other than frogs.”

“You know, normal fairytale stuff,” Nicky says, waving his hands through the air. On the desk beside Kevin, Aaron has gone still. It’s weird that Kevin can tell—it’s not like Aaron was especially mobile in the moments prior, after all—but paying attention to Aaron isn’t that big of a surprise, these days. “True love’s kiss, all that.”

Neil goes still too.

Aaron is looking at Kevin, gaze watchful, eyes intent.

Kevin looks away. Unfortunately, this means he’s looking at Neil, who is observing him with a calculating expression. At least Neil can’t expect a response, Kevin thinks. Small victories.

“Well,” Neil says. Kevin assumes he’s talking to Nicky—as strange as Neil is, conversing with a frog is probably out of even his realm of behaviour—but he’s still looking at Kevin. Ugh. “That might explain it.”

“Huh?” Nicky asks.

Kevin cannot look at Neil anymore.

Aaron is still looking at him.

“Neil frequently has bad ideas,” Kevin says, a pre-emptive defence.

“I don’t disagree,” Aaron says. It’s fucking weird. He’s a frog. Green and disproportionate legs—maybe he should try keep those when they get back to normal, Kevin thinks, suddenly daydreaming of a genuinely tall defence line; and then his thoughts shift a little to the left, Aaron’s knobbly knees but now they’re green and his calves are endless, pressing against Kevin, and wow, okay, Kevin is shelving that one before he gets too anatomically-confused, what the fuck—but still so Aaron. It still feels the same, him looking at Kevin, and now there’s something in Kevin’s throat to swallow past. He’s not even sure if he still has a throat, technically.

Neil and Nicky are still talking in the background, a buzzing noise that Kevin can’t focus on.

“Fairytales aren’t real,” Kevin says.

“We are frogs,” Aaron enunciates. Which is a reasonable counterpoint.

“This is ridiculous,” Kevin mutters.

“Kevin,” Aaron says. This is going to do something insane to Kevin’s dreams, he thinks, dismayed. Aaron croaking his name, and it being completely understandable. Life is so hard.

“Ugh,” Kevin says. His tongue goes flying past, apparently the frog equivalent of throwing one’s arms up in exasperation.

Aaron watches it go past, then looks at Kevin. If they were normal, he thinks Aaron’s eyebrow would be raised, or face tilted to the side, or something to that effect. People don’t think of either twin as especially expressive, but Kevin knows Aaron’s face, has mapped all its mountains and shifting planes. He misses it, suddenly, fiercely. More than the consistent pulse of exasperation and disbelief at their situation, the underlying desire to get back to normal. It’s an active, immediate thing: he wants to see Aaron’s face again, a deep-seated ache.

“Careful,” Aaron says. “If you keep throwing that tongue around, I won’t let you put it in my mouth.”

Kevin chokes. His tongue tangles itself on the way back into his mouth, his eyes bulge, and he makes a sputtering noise. Neil and Nicky don’t even pause their discussion.

If there’s a way for a frog to look calm in the wake of their friend (?)—also a frog—almost dying in response to an implication of flirtation, Aaron does.

“Aaron,” Kevin wheezes, once he’s got his tongue safely back inside his mouth and has reminded himself how to be a person.

“Kevin,” Aaron returns. He sounds so calm. So sure. And Kevin still knows him, down to his bones, but in this body, he can’t figure out his tells as easily. He can’t watch the movement of his knee, the furrow of his brows, the curling of his fingers into a fist. There’s no jaw to tighten, no hair to run his hands through, and while he still has eyes, they’re not ones that Kevin has memorised the way they soften.

“Is that a joke?” Kevin asks.

“We’re frogs,” Aaron reminds him. “We’re already the joke.” Before Kevin can decide how he feels about that, Aaron says, “Kissing you? Sure. Why not. Worth a shot.”

“Why not,” Kevin echoes. “Worth a shot.”

Aaron looks at him again. Kevin thinks maybe this is what it looks like for a frog’s eyes to soften, but who knows? Maybe he’s just looking for what he wants to see.

God, this whole thing is fucking ridiculous, but maybe the most unsettling part has been realising how much he misses seeing Aaron’s face. He’s gone longer without seeing it, obviously, it’s just—he’s never had to look at Aaron without it being Aaron. He can’t explain it better than that.

“Maybe I wouldn’t mind,” Aaron says suddenly, “if it were a fairytale.”

Kevin blinks. (Oh, that was weird.) He thinks that over.

“Oh,” he says, then smiles. He thinks he smiles. He’s not really sure what his mouth is doing. It’s unnervingly large in relation to the rest of his body.

“Oh,” Aaron echoes, but he hops closer. One hop. Two. His legs are very strong, Kevin notes, but then he stops thinking about it, because Aaron is really close.

Kevin cannot believe he’s maybe—probably—almost certainly—about to kiss Aaron for the first time. And they’re fucking frogs.

Kevin hops that last step, moving in closer.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” Aaron says, rolling his eyes again. Kevin has never seen a frog do that before, though jury’s out as to whether that’s because normal frogs can’t, or because Aaron Minyard brings a level of exasperation previously unknown amongst the species.

Kevin leans in, and kisses him. It’s the weirdest sensation he’s ever had—their bodies are approximately 30% mouth right now, which is a lot to deal with—but then Aaron’s mouth is open a little, and Kevin’s weird, powerful tongue darts in and tangles with Aaron’s.

This is fucking insane, Kevin thinks, and then there’s a sudden whoosh of air through the room, and suddenly the desk crashes and he and Aaron are sprawled across each other on the floor.

Human.

And naked.

“Oh my god,” Nicky says. “You’re back!” And then, tilting his head at Kevin, “And naked.”

“We’re leaving,” Neil announces, grabbing Nicky by the elbow and tugging him out of the room. His expression is dismayed. “I don’t want to see you today,” he says over his shoulder, which Kevin would like to apply to Aaron, but probably mostly means him.

Aaron is beneath Kevin, which luckily means his modesty is protected, given his usual hangups (Aaron and Neil often tell Kevin that it’s not that everyone else has hangups, but that Kevin is entirely too open with nudity; Kevin largely ignores this); unfortunately, it does mean Kevin landed on him, and now he’s groaning.

Kevin gets off him, then looks at him. At his face. God. He missed that face.

“Why are you staring at me?” Aaron grumbles.

“After everything that just happened, that’s your question?” Kevin asks, incredulous. Fucking fond, because of course it is.

“Everything else has a root cause of you being annoying,” Aaron says. “This—”

Kevin leans in, cupping Aaron’s jaw with one hand.

Aaron shuts up.

“Take a guess,” Kevin says. His voice is – soft. Too soft to hide behind.

There’s so much going on Aaron’s face, eyes quick, expressive, roving all over Kevin’s, taking him in, figuring him out. Then his expression clears.

“You’re so annoying,” Aaron says, and then he surges up and kisses Kevin.

It’s much better, Kevin thinks, getting to do this as them.

[didhewinkback]

each of these boys have spent a large chunk of their careers w a large & loud faction of fans who are convinced they know them better than they know themselves and i always assumed and hoped that people would grow out of that and it is so wild to see that is not the case at all even after one of them is dead

[hall0wedwyrm]

Shadow Generations my new beloved. I'm gonna play it like a million times...... probably.

the ending ..... I'm speechless tbh. I have so many favourite parts it's not even funny. The Cutscene with Sonic... the Goodbye from Maria and Gerald.... the scene before Shadow goes to face Doom.... there's just so much to love...

[fandomcrazy]

This is all based on a dream I had that woke me up coughing my lungs out (not related to the dream, I've just been sick the past few days)

Hawks quirk (from mha if it wasn’t clear) being Robyn's quirk

Her apartment is in the sky (like actually I'm not even joking, it's just hanging there by pure magic) and right across from the lecture hall she takes notes from with her super vision (part of the quirk ig)

Steve becomes her roommate

Before she meets steve she's known nancy for a while now

Nancy think steve might not know Robyn's a lesbian but Robyn let's her know that "no yeha I told him everything we've been talking about this hot girl that literally everyone in town knows and how her nose is so perfect and how she's so graceful and-"

"Yes Robyn I get the point" Nancy says.

Steve up until this point just thought they were making conversation and was getting to know his potential date. His world view comes crashing down after only hearing Robyn's side of the conversation with Nancy on the phone.

Steve has a mental quirk so it doesn't outwardly show that much except for the little details around his body. Robyn doesn't know what the quirk is (neither do i honestly) and doesn’t remember to ask. Steve appreciates this and is large bonus to having Robyn as his roommate/friend(?).

Most people don't like going to Robyn's apartment because you need to activate your quirk to get there and you need to be synced up with her security feed, which takes a lot of patience and time to do. Steve feels conflicted about hearing this. On one hand it's good because that guarantees almost no one will be able to get to him here but he has to use his quirk everytime he wants to go home.

Now the rest of the Hawkins gang have all been synced up to the security monitor just in case, except for the quirkless and mutation type quirks but they still have a system for that. Almost everyone asks Robyn once in a while if she can just fly them there instead of them activating probably dangerous or embarrassing or not easily accessible quirks. No one else except robyn in the Hawkins gang has a transmutation quirk until Eddie comes along with bat wings on his back at all times. Robyn are the same in that sense, that they can both fly but Eddie can't exactly fly over large bodies of water and he's not as fast as her. No one is as fast as Robyn everyone in the party has agreed.

Robyn knows what she's capable of. She knows she could easily cheat during tests or quizzes at her university without getting caught but she just. Doesn't want to. She wants to prove to herself that she can accomplish something without resorting to taking the easy way out. If she has to bomb 3/4 of tests she takes than so be it as long as she doesn't get thrown put of the university she doesn't care. She'll work double shifts if it means getting to prove that she can do things herself. (This might or might not lead to her slowly neglecting herself and her needs, needing someone to make her understand spreading herself so thin she can barely hold her wings up in the sky is not proving anything to anyone, especially herself(Steve says all this yall, maybe less eloquently but the point gets across)). Maybe this all started from a young age when her parents expected a lot from her, expected her to solve all their problems for them (maybe financial? Idk) and it just made her more convinced to not do anything for themn, but for herself. And although, at the time, this kind of thinking was healthy, it was not sustainable in the long run after separating herself from them in the future.

Oh uhhh heros and villains don't exist, quirks and criminals exist. There is technology created that stuns a persons quirk factor and makes them immobile (paralyzed) temporarily. This technology was used on Steve as a child to make him more "docile".

I like to give as much angst to characters that I think would look hot being pathetic wet dogs-

Robyn and Nancy end up together obvi (if you didn't catch it up there, Nancy was a little jealous of Robyn talking about someone she might be interested in like that that isn't her (that was literally her who Robyn described but whatever)).

Steve and Eddie

And literally anyone else you want to ship I'm a big elmax or elumax supporter and Dustin being steddie's kid basically

Also why the fuck is nobody talking about the sass potential with Dustin and Erica friendship?? They're like copy paste stobyn but with a different font that makes them roast everyone else instead of each other

Anyway don't take any of this too seriously it only took like 30 minutes (that's a lot fo time holy shit 💀😭😭 I'm a slow writer) and no brain power because, again, I just woke up with a coughing fit that probably made me lose a lung. I should probably check on that.

Anyway, BYEEEEE

[unriding]

Me sneaking into your asks with this drabble:

Disclaimer: I have yet to get a good grasp of Moze's character so this might be a bit OOC and on your side as well (sorry). I did my best. Also, this was inspired by the post you made abt telling Moze your tasks for the day | 600+ words (not proofread)

.

.

.

In Moze's eyes, you reminded him of a dog catching a case of the zoomies.

You were quite literally everywhere. He'd find you talking to someone one moment before you're rushing off to do something else entirely the next. It seemed like you had quite a lot on your plate as of recently. Tasks, things you wanted to do, and so much more spinning around that mind of yours. You've told him a bit of your plans so he has a general idea. But seeing you juggling all of those tasks at once makes both admiration and concern bloom in his chest.

One time, Moze found you carrying a box filled with items. It would've been amusing to him how comical it was that the items piled so high— he could barely see you behind it. However, he did worry right after given how you almost tripped over something. He managed to catch you and the items before both came crashing all over the floor.

He insisted on helping you carry the items to wherever its destination was. It took a bit of pursuasion on his side. Convincing you that it truly wasn't a bother to him at all, and that he'd be very much glad to be of assistance to you.

"I need to get these delivered first. Then go stop by the shop to buy some things. After that…" You go on to ramble about the things you had to do to help get a better vision on what else you had to do. "Oh, no… I messed up." The smile on your face dropping at the thought that had slipped your mind until that moment. "I forgot to invite Jiaoqiu to dinner with the others—"

"It's tomorrow evening, right? He knows. I mentioned it last time when I spoke to him." Moze says with a calm tone.

You blink at him, slightly caught off-guard by the man beside you. Though it's immediately replaced with relief and gratitude. The smile on your face already back, lighting up your features once more. Infectious as always, it makes the corners of his lips tug upwards as well. A small part of him feels quite proud to have been able to help you ease your worries even by a bit.

And this is when you start noticing it.

Did you mention that you're running out of a certain skincare product, but you can't find the time to stop by the store to buy it? Moze conveniently has to stop by near the store and buys it for you. Did you also mention that you wanted to do a certain task but keep forgetting about it? He gently reminds you about it via message or verbal if he's nearby. Did you also happen to mention that you've been meaning to try out a certain desert from a cafe, but the schedule simply doesn't seem to allow you? No fear, he passes by the store to buy you the treat.

Moze doesn't see you as someone incapable of handling things by yourself. To him, he simply sees it as a way to show his care. If making a quick stop somewhere, sending you a small reminder of something you had to do that day, or even helping you out with the tasks you need to accomplish, makes you smile? Gives you a chance to take a break? Let you worry less about the things you need to do? It's worth it in his eyes.

He does his best to avoid making you feel like you're bothering or troubling him (you really aren't). Most of the time, he does them discrcetly and casually. Partially, since he's also scared that you'll think he's weird or a creep for acting like that.

Please don't think of him badly.

Moze truly means well.

[asmodeusamaryllis]

Chat I'm so fucking embarrassed

[abnormalpsychology]

thrilling sequel to my poll from back in January

[jellyaibo]

today i realized ive had my loser plush for.....what...2 years now??? and already shes a bit worn from all hte time ive spent w her (colors are a bit de-saturated, has some wrinkles/creases, shes a bit dirty too but im gna clean her again soon)

it makes me kinda emotional like . wow to be loved is to be changed

[riverside-lavender]

JUST POSTED A FIC…

please talk to me about my au. i have so many thoughts but so little energy to translate them into fics. anyone in the overlap of one piece and pjo i would LOVE to be friends. talk to me please.

[insaneiceshard]

Chapter 1

After polishing it up a bit, I think I'm ready to post the first chapter of my fanfic! Right now it goes by "In the flames we dance like fairies, as a lonely person turns to dust" (Heavily inspired by a kikou song lyric) but that might change as I write more(hopefully). Also for context, if you aren't @melissa-titanium, you should probably know this came from an ask(spawned from this post originally) where I got really excited about SaintxGourmand, so this is technically a ship fanfic. Though fyi I'll be writing it more as a platonic ship than a romantic one.

So Here it is! <3

Whatever they were expecting would happen when their iterator died, it definitely wasn't trodding through a leech-infested jungle. The last dozen cycles were hectic. Dance of a Dozen Pearls had tried and failed at re-establishing their communication networks. Their pier’s arrays, eroded to stakes in their cans, had firmly established that if they were going to send the triple affirmative it would have to be through unconventional means. Saint would ponder how truly unconventional they were, if only they were not preoccupied with prying off the steady stream of bugs trying to eat them alive. Tall and thin trees hid the sun from view, making it hard to see if they were still heading south, and even harder to navigate over thick and slippery roots. The cold wet mud under their feet was a far cry from the warm metal of their living quarters. Taking step after step, the cacophony of the fauna around them was nearly deafening, the schlup-plunck of their footsteps only occasionally broken up by crawling over muddy terrain. It was all driving them mad. 

Taking the Southern exit might’ve been a poor decision. They could have waited out the collapse of their can down in the subterranean levels of the complex. But, somehow the idea of sitting in a creature den, waiting for however many cycles it took for their iterator to collapse, was worse than the idea of being buried alive. So the jungle would have to do.

 Saint swatted another fly away. They considered whether ascending the bugs around them would be worth it, but the thought that simple bugs could ascend lightened the chaotic mood a bit. All the work Dance had put into them. The constant tests, the studying of ancient texts, the countless cycles where they stripped all their karmic desires away. All of it, to result in a swarm of dead bugs at the feet of the first truly ascended individual. Saint let out a tiny chuckle as they pushed through thick grass, only to halt to a stop as the sun blinded them. After rubbing their eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness, the sight of a vast ocean pocked with islands was revealed, the water glittering ahead from the sun's reflections. From everything their robotic mother taught them, swimming was an unfortunate oversight.

They stood on the shore, gazing out at the islands ahead. Now that the jungle was behind them, they could see Dance’s closest neighbour on the horizon. Saint spend many of their early cycles up on top of Dance’s can. This neighbour seemed so much closer from up there. Saint rubbed their face as they let out a strained whine. She made this sound easy. She never taught them what to do after they succeeded, never had the time. She didn’t wait long before she-.

Saint ripped their paws from their face and wadded into the water. Wetness seeped deep into their fur, instantly making them cold. The cold water wasn’t unfamiliar to them, comforting warmth was a karmic desire after all. But the slow creep of the water level was new. 

They could do this. 

As they strayed farther from the shore, the water slowly made its way up their body. The surface their feet met was a cold metal, which bit into the skin of their paw pads. Each step harder to take than the last. Saint tried to breathe slow and steady, just as she taught them to, but each breath they took hurt, and only wadding faster into the water soothed their lungs. The water, which was now up to their chest, made it hard for their fur to conserve any warmth left in their body. Saint remembered a story Dance told them, of an aquatic creature built to survive in the coldest waters at the poles. It had a thick layer of fat and short waterproof fur that helped it keep warm. Saint remarked that they were nothing like that thing, they were built with only a single, holy, purpose. Saint tried to keep their head above the water, taking short steps to try and find higher ground. 

Suddenly, they were plunged into the freezing depths. Surrounded on all sides by the ice water, her voice called out to them, to kick, to claw their way back to the surface. But they knew she was gone. Saint sank deeper and deeper, the sun above them growing faint. She could never guide them anymore. Never recount stories of old. The water dug out the air from their lungs. Sinking far deeper than what they thought possible, the water was dark from the surface, after all. The ocean looked like the night sky, now that they think of it. Never read them the pearls they dug up. Never tell them of the poetry they loved, cherished, despised. Never again.

Saint’s pounding heartbeat slowed. 

Never again. 

[lusalemaart]

And now I'm stuck in baby prison.

[lululawrence]

X

[rosicheeks]

🫶

[void-botanist]

@outpost51 it's insect time 😎

The Semilsstrom family consists primarily of four adult siblings (because I have done approximately 0 character development for their parents, who are alive and chill and nonbinary but don't even have names yet):

Snap (he/per), perpetually cheerful and always ready for an adventure. Fucked off to Icepith in the far north not too long ago for adventure and friendship's sake.

Lexie (she/her), goth darling who is busy being an arcade manager and also in other people's business and fucking around in the third Akkanswl (their home). Has more piercings than the whole rest of the family and their hangers-on combined.

Derik (he/him), Wylie's identical twin and sensitive jock mechanical engineer who has lived in the fifth Akkanswl out east for a while. Not normal about artsy movies and the opera and got recruited onto the Melichacha from the shipbuilding crew.

Wylie (he/him), Derik's identical twin and athletic/pathetic interspecies doctor who had a residency in the fourth Akkanswl down south and just never left. Applied for the Melichacha crew in an attempt to get Derik's attention, and has some sick ass forearm tattoo sleeves.

And they all have their own companions:

Rolf (he/she/they), Snap's BFF, an imbra (imagine a human who is one foot tall. Then imagine them having evolved from a bat [minus wings]) full of restlessness and sarcasm who led the charge to Icepith.

Barb (she/they), Lexie's BFF/lover/whatever the hell they feel like, an intimidatingly buff orea-nawwen who just lives in third for some reason.

Mirilde (he/him), Derik's boyfriend, also a swl from third and just like a cool sweet guy.

Vy (she/they), Wylie's girlfriend, a human who is built like a tank and is technically his superior on the Melichacha.

For reference here is a picture of Mirilde (I decided nswl were scaled after I drew this so just pretend they have scale patterns like geckos):

[Image description: a digital color drawing of Mirilde, a swl, from the shoulders up. He is a light green lizard person with a long neck, pale yellow belly coloration that extends down from his bottom lip, a rounded snout, large forward-facing brown eyes like a gecko, and a thick pale gold crest similar to a chicken's comb, with tall pointed ears on either side of it. His ears are swiveled partly forward to match his smile, and both ears have purple gauges near the base with chain links hanging from them. He is wearing a dark green t-shirt with his thin choker tattoo partly visible. /End description.]

Now that we've covered that, insects.

Snap and Rolf will race each other to catch insects in random encounters. Rolf usually wins because of being small and fast. Snap: at least put some sauce on that Rolf: [crunching, does not give a shit] Imbrath can actually survive on a diet of insects on account of being so small. Nswl are way too big for that, so for them insects are considered treats/delicacies. So, you know, you should at least put some sauce on that.

Lexie likes grilled insect kebabs, which mostly means larger insects. Barb doesn't love insects that are recognizable as insects except when they're candied (and I do mean candied, not just preserved inside a lollipop). But I do love the image of the two of them walking down the street, Lexie sliding all the insects off the stick at once with her sharp teeth, and Barb, arguably the scarier-looking one, licking a big ol insect lollipop.

Derik prefers his insects in pastries, where it's more about the flavor than the texture. Mirilde thinks the texture is important and has waxed poetic more than once about how you have to sauté them until they're crispy around the edges and have taken up some of the flavor of the oil.

Wylie likes them as garnishes or add-ins, the equivalent of putting granola in your yogurt, but this also means that he's eating them dead but raw most of the time. Vy spent a while investigating this to ascertain whether she was likely to get sick from this, so now she knows significantly more about the insect supply chain than your average swl. Personally, she's on Derik's side - she's not a very squeamish person but she just can't stomach eating whole raw insects, so they better be thoroughly incorporated and unrecognizable.

Bonus: Vy has two queerplatonic partners, Quint (they/them), the captain of the Melichacha, and Red (ey/em), the mycelial engineer. Quint is a neriet (mushroom person) and has zero hangups about eating insects as is, unless they're worm/sluglike in any way, in which case never, no thank you. The ironic thing about this is these are the only types of insects that show up in their native cuisine (not as a major part, but still). Red is a human but won't eat insects at all because ey likes them too much, in the same way some people go "this animal is too cute I can't eat its meat".