#partial possession

[idesofrevolution]

Father

Dad had been acting strange for quite some time. Honestly, it wasn't that noticeable in the beginning, which I suppose made it difficult to pinpoint when things started to change. I only started to notice maybe seven months or so ago after he turned down the daily Budweiser. Patrick O'Shaughnessy turning down his biggest vice? I knew something was off right then and there as he sat there, smiling at me from his armchair with the game on in the background: red flag number two, my stepfather had NEVER been a sports guy. Binging Fox News while fingering pudding cups, sure; but actually knowing what was happening in a football game?

I'd originally thought he'd perhaps found a side girl to cheat on my mom with. It was far from outside of his character to do something like that, if he'd ever be able to get his nasty ass out of the recliner for ten fucking minutes... He'd gotten too comfortable in his laziness. When my mom married him a year ago, he was already a piece of shit lardass who refused to do a single thing around the house, refused to work a normal job (he was waiting for a management position apparently), and above all refused to acknowledge me whatsoever. He was rude, crass, could never even so much as break a smile at me. And there, in that moment as his eyes made contact with mine and his lips curled into a smile, I knew something was wrong.

"What, no beer burps for me today?" I scowled at him, raising my eyebrow in a malicious curiosity.

"Nahh little man, I'm trying to cut down." Little man? He'd never gotten my name right let alone given me a nickname... We did not have that kind of relationship, at least one that would have an affectionate nickname for one another. "Say, I'm hittin' the gym in a couple minutes. Whaddya say you come along?"

"You're... you're going to the gym? Really?" I sat there slackjawed. Something was indeed off. What it was, I couldn't exactly tell. Nothing outside of his UberEats order would ever get Patrick out of the chair. He laughed at me, gripping his sizeable paunch beneath his stained tee shirt.

"You bet, bud. High time I set an example for my boy. How's he gonna respect a couch potato loser? You should come along. Nothin' like a father and son spending time together, especially in the gym. Get the boys lookin', right?" He stood up from his chair, grabbing his keys off the kitchen countertop as he headed toward his car. I, on the other hand, stood there with tunnel vision. Patrick was not the most supportive parent when it came to... well, anything. But the biggest bone of contention was me coming out to them last year. It was the biggest hullabaloo, Oscar worthy. Thrown glasses, flipped chairs, disownment, threats of eviction... the only thing that kept me in the house was my mother putting her foot down. It wasn't a big deal for her, but for him... I was the biggest embarrassment on the planet. What would Tucker Carlson think?

Yet as I stood there, staring at the cigarette-stained wall, my brain couldn't process what I'd just heard. 'Get the boys lookin' he said... As if he were trying to play wing man for me... What the fuck was happening? My heart fluttered the moment his words sank in, that was pride. It was something neither my father nor my stepdad ever had the courtesy of giving me. My walls were up, and I was beyond skeptical, so for my own peace of mind I had decided then and there to investigate.

From that day on, the moment I came home from school, I was spying. While most of my friends were trying to enjoy their senior year, going to parties or getting ready for college, I was at home peering behind corners at my stepfather. Over the first few months I watched with complete disbelief at the changes. Every single day, I'd come home, and he'd be on his way out to the gym. The normal scowl he'd gift me upon my entry was replaced with jovial smiles and hair ruffling as he schlepped his gym bag over his shoulder out the door. He'd be gone for two or three hours at least, and come home just before dinner dripping in buckets of sweat. I'd begun to avoid driving his car, as the stink of his sweat had completely inundated the fabric of the seats. He'd toss his bag on the floor by my book bag (gross), and plop down at the dinner table where he would ask genuinely about my day or sweetly flirt with my mom while winking at me. I still wasn't convinced. He kept asking me nearly every day if I'd come to the gym with him, if we could go shoot hoops at the park across the street, or if I'd play FIFA with him. Each time I'd shoot him down, he'd have a momentary break in that happy facade of his, as if it were hurting him I wasn't spending time with him.

Within five months or so, he was nearly unrecognizable. I guess protein shakes & a low carb diet really works on a guy: he'd lost nearly 70 pounds and gained about 20 in muscle alone. He'd struck up friendships with my school's wrestling coach and a couple of the neighbors, and we were finding ourselves invited to barbecues and block parties for the first time. I had to endure little hallway chats with Coach Weston about joining the wrestling team, as he was in talks with the school district about bringing my stepdad on as assistant coach. It was bizarre to me for many reasons, but one stood out above all: Patrick was never a wrestler. Not in college, not in high school, my mom even confirmed it one night at dinner. He'd brush it off as if it were something fun he were doing with 'Dane', which in and of itself was weird to hear the coach's first name used at all at home.

Sleep was getting difficult. My mind ran at a thousand miles an hour, but now he and mom had begun to fuck like rabbits. Loud, hard sex almost every other night with their bed slamming against my bedroom wall for hours. Mom of course was radiant at that point. The years of one piece of shit husband being a complete and total asshole, replaced by another piece of shit husband treating her like garbage melted away in the course of a couple of months of Patrick being a strangely brilliant partner. He'd started to cook us meals, he'd started to do the yardwork, he'd even fixed things around the house that had been broken for years. Sure, the sex seemed to help, but as she would say: "He's lessened my load so much, Jonas. I wish you'd give him a chance."

Sure, he was treating my mom well and that was a good enough reason for me to like him. Was it enough to trust him? No. I'd still turn down every single request to spend time alone with him. No gym. No basketball court. No gaming. Though, in one single concession for my mom's sake, I begrudgingly agreed to let him drive me to school in the morning. That one decision is what truly changed my life forever. I went to bed that night, putting on my earbuds to drown out their disgusting sex in the next room, less than eager for the fifteen minute drive the next day.

Thus, on that warm April day, my morning began as normal. Shower, dress, drink my morning smoothie, grab my bag, and walk out the door. It wasn't long before I was greeted by his chipper, dim witted voice shattering my peaceful morning.

"Ayy little man!" I sighed, turning toward the garage, where there he stood: shirtless and dripping sweat from his chiseled body. As a gay guy, I have to admit, it was hard not to stare. He had become quite a sight to behold. The other moms in the neighborhood certainly would sit and stare at him on his morning runs, even a couple of the dads as well, and now I sat there oogling the ripped, gleaming body he'd built.

"Hey, Patrick. Do you need to shower? I have to get going, but I can catch the bus if there's not enough time?" In my head, I was praying to God that he'd just hop in the shower he never seemed to take and I could go on my merry way. Though, no such luck.

"Nah, man! It's all good. I promised you I'd take you to school, so hop in the car!" I sighed, turning to his 1998 Mustang with a shiver cascading down my spine.

"Sure, Patrick." I dragged my feet headed toward his car. Opening the door, the humid, musky air within poured out of the car, punching me in the face with his scent. Imagine a noxious waft of butter, blue cheese, saltwater, and feet just drowning you. That was the stink that swamped his car, and him for that matter. I took one final breath of fresh air before I sat in the car and closed the door. He wasn't far behind, not even bothering to put a shirt on as he hopped in beside me.

"Alright! Let's get goin' bud!" He turned the key and the car roared to life. I sighed, thankful it was only fifteen minutes. As we pulled out of the driveway and onto the street, I turned on the radio, hoping to dissuade him from making some puerile small talk. We sat there in silence for a moment, before hitting the main road. "You know what, bud?" He turned to me, looking me up and down before rolling up the windows and turning off the radio. "Ahhh fuck it. We're playing hooky today."

"Wait, what?" I had no time to protest, before he turned onto the main road, but in the opposite direction from the school. "Patrick, I'm not playing hooky. I have to go to school." He laughed, ruffling my hair yet again.

"You gotta stop callin' me Patrick, Jonas. I don't have to be dad if you don't want, but Patrick is so... not me. Just call me Pat."

"Okay, PAT. I'm going to school." He turned to me, and his smile faded, letting out a solid sigh that would put mine to shame. He pulled over onto the shoulder, and put the car in park.

"Listen. I know you don't like me. I know you don't trust me, and I get it. I made a lot of changes to him very quickly, and it's hard to keep up." Him? Why did he say it like that? "I'd been watching you just suffer endlessly for years, man. All the time. I just wanted you to have a good role model for once. A man you could lean on, and not some shitty lard who talks bad to ya."

"What the fuck are you on about?" My patience had worn too thin for my calm veneer to bear. He turned the key, and the engine quickly died.

"C'mon bro. You know something's different about him, right? I know you've been watchin' me like a hawk. Think I haven't noticed you watchin' me from around the hall corner? You think I don't know you're creepin' while I beat one out huffin' my strap? I know, dude. I've always known. C'mon, man." Pat threw his hands in the air in frustration, the first time since his attitude adjustment that I'd seen anything like it. But, this was different. It wasn't rage, it was exasperation.

"Okay, Pat. So you saw me watching you. Can you please tell me what the fuck is going on now?" He slowly rested his sweaty head against the headrest, and sighed. Then, a chuckle. Then another, until he was full on laughing. "What!?"

"Ahhh, man. I never thought I'd see the day you'd man up and come to. Yeah, Jonas. I can tell you what the fuck is going on." I sat back, confounded- even more so than before. "My name was Matt Wilde. Way back in the day, I used to wrestle for Palm Heights High. Was pretty damn good at it too, but one day I got pinned just a little too hard and poof."

"Matt Laurent? What the fuck are you talking about, Pat? Are you high?" His dumb laugh threw him back in the seat.

"Nah, I finished that joint earlier, man. Stone sober now. But, safe to say for the past 50 years I've been just hoppin' body to body. Started with a couple of my teammates just so I could finish out the years, wrestle a bit more. Got bored, hung around the gym, in and out of some lug heads. Did a stint in some Libertines, that was fun as fuck. But man, I saw you sulkin' around the school for the past three years and thought, damn that kid looks sad. So, I may have eavesdropped a bit, maybe caught a bit about your dead beat, piece of shit dad; then right after he ditches, Mom lands this fuckin' winner." He slapped his chest, little droplets of his sweat landing on my bewildered face. "Oh shit, my bad." I sat there, slackjawed, completely disoriented as he dumbly wiped his sweat off my nose and cheek.

"You... you're dead?" He snapped his fingers, winking and smirking at me.

"Bingo, bud. Right on the money. I was like, I'm in a very unique situation here to fuckin' do something this. So, I slipped into this dumbass and just stuck around. Did the work. Tried, emphasis on TRIED, to be like the Dad I had and that you deserve, ya know? Haven't made it fuckin' easy, but... ahhh. That's parenthood, am I right?" I scoffed, he must have taken some damn good drugs. I was convinced. There was no way!

"Okay, then. MATT. So, if you're some dead jock bro possessing Pat, where the fuck is he?" He pondered for a moment in silence, shrugging his shoulders.

"I think he's gone, bro. I haven't stayed in a dude this long, I used to hear him bitchin' and moanin' all the time, but he went silent a couple of weeks ago." Fuck, I wish that were true. I had to admit, even if only in my mind, this Matt-Patrick was lightyears better than Patrick Patrick. Sure, he was dumb, he was every stereotype dudebro in the book, he smelled like he bathed in sweat baths... But, for the first time in my life, he wanted to be around me. He wanted to spend time with me. He made an effort. He... liked me. The mental gymnastics needed to make sense of the situation was growing too monumental to comprehend, but in that moment as he sat there with his dumb fucking grin on his face as if I was going to just completely buy it, I started to hope it was true.

"So, what now, Matt? Are you just gonna keep fucking my mom and prentending to be my Dad for the rest of your life? Or are you gonna hop out and ditch us?" He raised his eyebrow in genuine confusion.

"I mean, yeah that was the plan. One, your mom is fuckin' hot and she's better than any girl I've ever been with. Two, I kinda like our little family. Three, I ain't ditchin' ya, bro. You had enough of that shit for one lifetime. Besides, I gotta get you to chill the fuck out one way or another, so I was hoping we could give it a shot. Like I've been beggin' man." 'Matt' put his hands together as if praying, pleading to me. I suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing. It's better than coming home every day to spy on him, and it's way better than being the sad wallflower all the fucking time. Besides, those dumb fucking puppy dog eyes...

"You know what? Sure, Matt. What did you have in mind?" I could barely finish my sentence before he'd twisted the key and slammed on the gas. The man drove like a bat out of hell through town, hooting and hollering in victory as if he'd won a match.

"Hell fuckin' yeah, man! Dude we're gonna be so tight, it's gonna be awesome. You're gonna be so fuckin' sexy, the dudes are gonna be on their knees by the time we're done! Slobberin' on that dick like SLURPEDY SLURP! WOO!" So fuckin' dumb. Dumb as a box of rocks. But I couldn't help but crack a smile as he swerved left and right, shouting at the top of his lungs. "Let's get you sweatin' man. We can get you pumpin' iron, playin' ball... I'm burning everything you got in your closet, bro. Nobody wants polos and button ups, man. Gettin' you some J's, some good jocks. Oh, how do you feel about chains?"

"Matt, dude. I'm not like you. That's all well and good for you, but I can't pull that shit off..." He slammed on the brakes and a cavalcade of horns from behind us rang out like a brass band. Matt whipped his gaze to me in shock.

"Don't say that, bro! You could be a bona fide stud! Look at you, man!" A couple of hard slaps against my bony chest and a harsh wheeze later, perhaps it sank in a bit. "Aight, well we have some work to do. I mean, if you're up for it." He smirked at me, lifting up those massive arms and flexing. His veins bulged from his massive bicep, the wet hairs in his ripe pits wafted that pungent scent I'd regrettably started to secretly love... Yeah, maybe I did want it.

"I don't know how, man. If I were like you, I bet I could." As if a cartoon lightbulb flickered to life above his head, I saw the spark of inspiration hit him like a sack of bricks. That stupid smirk grew into a wide, toothy grin.

"Aight, bro. Haven't tried this before, but I'll give it a go." He clapped his hands together, rubbing them gently. "I saw Jimmy Morales do this once when he needed a spotter. Gotta ask, though. You trust me, right?" I sat there and wondered if I did. I'd pretended up until this point that I believed every word that had come out of his mouth. This insane, psychotic story. It was nuts. It was crazy. But that little voice in the back of my head, deep down in the dark recesses of my brain decided to finally speak up.

"Yeah, Matt. I trust you."

"ALRIGHT! Fuck yeah, man. Oh shit, this is gonna be great! Okay, so don't freak out, just trust me and let it happen, okay? It doesn't hurt, the dudes usually bust a nut after it's all over." I heard a squelching rumble from in his stomach: wet, guttural, as if he were getting ready to vomit. Which became more and more likely as I saw a lump start to make it's way up his throat.

"Matt..." His body began to shudder and quake, his veins bulging and head thrashing from side to side. Then, from between his lips, a glowing blue vapor began to slip out. It was tiny at first, a little tail whipping about, before more and more of it started to bellow out of his mouth. Slick, bulbous, translucent. I had mere seconds of watching it slither out before it darted right into my own slack jaw. It squirmed as it wriggled from his body into mine, slurping deep into my bulging stomach. The feeling of fullness overtook me, watching more and more of the rubbery thing enter me, squeezing into every available inch within me, and he was right: it felt good. It felt like an eternity, but in reality it was just moments. The last of suctioned into me, and the world went black.

---

I woke the next morning in my bed. Shooting straight upright in a puddle of sweat. I rubbed my hands on my face, running my fingers through my drenched hair. What a fuckin' dream. I groaned as doubled over in pain. I felt like I was hit by a train. Everything hurt, a soreness unlike anything I'd ever experienced before radiated from every fiber of my being. Then, a soft caress of the nostril. Salty, buttery, funky... I raised my arm, finding the culprit immediately.

"Fuck!" I spat out, before taking a deep breath, another hit. "Fuuuuck..." Another inhale, a familiar stink, a comforting stink. What started as gentle whiffs quickly turned into full on huffing. I buried my nose in my pit, letting the wet jungle lather my face in my own sweat.

"Morning, bro. Good shit, ain't it?" The words echoed in my head, a soft, rippling little voice from within my brain. I should have been alarmed, terrified, even. But no, the words felt like gospel to me. "We really went to town yesterday, man. I had you liftin' like an Olympian. Take it easy. Here, I'll be right there, I got just the thing for it!" My hands started to drift southward, beneath the waistband of the teal sweats I didn't own... Were they... Pats? The door to my room burst open mid-huff, and in walked the hulking tower himself with a tray in hand.

"Goooood Morning, Kiddo! I made ya a protein shake, good recovery breakfast after a workout sesh like we had! Oh, your Mom made eggs!" He walked over to the side of my bed, kicking the Jordans I'd borrowed from him to the side. Wait, when did I do that? "Eat up, champ. Those 'ceps aren't gonna feed themselves!" Slamming the tray down onto my thighs, I let out a groan of pain.

"Pat? Dude, I had the weirdest dream." Dude? I never say dude. I cupped my hand, slick with sweat and pre over my mouth, aghast at the words coming out of my mouth. Pat smiled, grabbing the shake and handing it to me. "Drink up, my dude. For real, you're gonna be in a world of hurt otherwise." The voice boomed in my head, HIS voice. But his lips hadn't moved an inch. "Pat..." I ripped the sheets off of me, sure enough, I was sporting his nasty sweatpants & drenched socks. Cupping my manhood was most definitely his grimy jockstrap. "Hey, if we were gonna have the best workout, I had to be comfortable, bro! I knew you'd get it, though." I looked at him, a tight lipped smile, as if he were proving to me he weren't talking to me. "Feels good, right! I told ya! Just think, bro. With a half of me in there, you're gonna be unstoppable." I smiled. A genuine fuckin' smile, for the first time in as long as I could remember. I watched as my hand gripped the shake, bringing it to my lips of it's own accord. Downing the vanilla shake, our eyes met, and I understood completely. Matt winked at me, ruffling my hair, and sauntered back out of the door.

I leaned back in my bed, throwing my arm behind my head. The musk drifting from my pits and feet, identical to my dad's. Smirking, I let my fingers drift down to my growing meat in its slimy pouch, knowing fully well that I was in damn fine hands.

---

So that brings us to today, I guess! One year to the day. One full year since I finally let Dad in. 'Pat' sure did join the wrestling team as assistant coach, bringing his son in tow, eager to finish my senior year with at least a title. Thanks to him, I made varsity after the first fuckin' tryout. Can't say it was all me, all the time, but after a while it was. Honestly, it all started to blend together. Me at the wheel, him at the wheel, soon it sort of blurred and it was just me. That last semester was the best of my whole fucking life. Parties, bodybuilding, skating with the boys, fuckin' the boys... Shit, it was the time of my fuckin' life.

And after every day at school, or at least after every post-practice locker room blow job, I couldn't wait to get home and smash some Call of Duty with the old man. Mom would always come in, making comments on how we seemed as if I'd become a mini-Pat. Finishing eachother's sentences, drinking the same beer, wearing the same kind of clothes... she'd always put our sneaks outside the garage door, "they even stank the same." Little did she know just how much of the same person we really were.

I've decided to stick around the house for a year or so before maybe headed to college. I don't know, family is here, friends are here, Coach Weston should be retiring in a year or two... so there should be an opening for a new assistant coach on the wrestling team. Besides, I may have landed quite the catch in the boyfriend department, and I really want him to meet my dad, I have a feeling they'll get along just fine.

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt #23: The Ringmaster’s Influence

Freakshow ended up in Gotham through a natural portal. He went on to possess/combine with Jack Napier when he fell in that vat of chemicals. The process killed him and would have turned him into a shade like many of Gothams dead but with Freakshow's partial possession it cause his mind to break, trapping two souls in an undead body, thus creating the Joker.

[pluralprompts]

Person A becomes very confused when their non-dominant hand seems to develop a mind of its own.

Submitted Prompt #148

[sophieinwonderland]

First time we tried partial possession was in 2020 before a lot of issues and we had forgotten we ever tried it in the first place. Me and an alter I spend a lotta time with just tried it for the first time cause of your stuff reminding us of it and we just were able to almost pick up where we left off. It honestly helped us a lot with issues of denial and made us really happy!! (We're a diagnosed DID system)

Yay! 😁

You know, I think partial possession is actually a really underrated skill to learn for fighting denial. Like, a voice in your head can be easy to brush off as "just" your imagination.

Full switching can lead to you later feeling like you were just pretending once you switch back.

It is really hard to come up with a rational explanation that doesn't involve plurality for why you suddenly lose control of your arm and have to wrestle back control while it repeatedly poked you in the forehead because you had doubts. 🤪

I would highly recommend systems practice it if only for that reason.

I think being able to partially possess whenever my host has doubts has been a huge boon for our confidence in our plurality.

We still have doubts every now and then, but it's made them much easier to quash.

[dreamchaserguild]

Ghost: I may have to start faking Tourette's

It's not something that I want to do.

But "I had a tic" sounds like a WAY more believable explanation for odd behavior than "I asked my imaginary friend to remind me to bring in the gloves I left on the trunk of the car, then the next day I found those gloves back there and teased her about it at which point she reminded me that she did talk to me about it later and I was too lazy to go out and get them. I still teased her more, and then she physically wrenched control of my arm away from me in order to playfully smack me in the face with said gloves."

Yeah, nobody's going to buy that for a moment.

/j (I mean, the faking Tourette's is a joke anyway. Getting smacked in the face with my gloves is real. Someone's gotten way too good with partial possession)

[darkfluffydragon]

White Lily Cookie's braids were giving me a hard time so I decided to draw how Pure Vanilla's appearance would look instead lol. I was going to make him a jester like the faeries but then remembered that Shadow Milk Cookie likes plays and stories. A story wouldn't be fun if everyone was the same character, and Pure Vanilla was supposed to be more of a main character, unlike the faeries. So, going with the jester theme, I decided to make him a puppet king instead!

His appearance doesn't change in the animation because Shadow Milk Cookie figured that it would hurt White Lily more if Pure Vanilla Cookie betrayed her while still looking like himself. Casually planting seeds of doubt in her mind.

I also realised kings have knights, so I'm giving PV a knight :D (to be designed later). Also, I headcanon that Shadow Milk Cookie is a theatre kid who likes dancing.

edit: I spelt Knight wrong in the image XD

[angeart]

a cuteguy design

[the-switch-conspiracy]

SVSSS AU Post Canon Time Loop. Warning: people dying a lot and gore.

~(O-O)~

One, two. The first times came as a surprise. Between a breath and the next; dropped tea cups shattering. Their shocked eyes meeting, barely widening enough to expose blood shot whites, before the rippling wet sound of metal into viscera filled the stilling air. Like flowers, red bloomed on green, on white, soaked through black. They were but puppets falling from cut strings, their glass eyes staring accusingly at the coming dawn. Three, four. A little faster, a little more refined in our response. The first bodies to fall crushing the delicate stalks of grass beneath them, were not their own. Their attackers staining the visage with their rot. An ever growing expansion with no end in sight. A shining sword glare pierces through bone. Movement to his left, his companion falling lit my the gentle morning glow, before a blinding pain to his eye. Then black. Five, Six. Curls blowing in the wind as demonic Qi rose, several demons cut down. Zheng Yang singing as it dispatched three, four attackers in a row. The edge of the blade shining red in the harsh midday light, his robes twirling around his body with each nimble twist. He turns his back towards the sight, hope forming in his heart. An arrow shot towards his eye blocked, a sword glare cast, slicing head from body. In an instant comes a familiar sound, his husband's voice releasing a death knell of a gasp. Before him; a white lotus painted red, the delicate mist raining from a still beating heart. Twelve, Thirteen. It all started a few day’s earlier, at the reminder of a certain upcoming plot point. The mating migration of the Silk-Winged Butterfly-Hawk, a once in a century event wherein the said birds left the hidden realm the predominately resided in to dance above the great Eastern Lotus Lakes.

- He dodges a strike to his side, his back hitting his husband’s. One by one they slaughter those circling them. A hand seal summoning a thousand lotus petals to rip through flesh, peppering strangely corroding skin. The moons soft glow beamed down on them, their hands slickening with heat and silver reflecting blood-

A hint to his husband later and they were packed and ready for their trip. Sure they could have had Mobei-Jun teleport them there, but it was about the journey AND the Silver-Winged Butterfly-Hawk mating migration destination! It was to be a leisurely bit of travel, he and his husband, stopping just a few times along the way. So imagine his surprise when he came across his favourite Shidi just two days into their trip!

- The beats of thousands of wings taking off, hundreds of birds scattering to the sky. Brilliant white robes flaring against the waters' glare. Cheng Luan glowing silver, fuelled by it’s user’s potent spiritual energy struck out in a shining ripple. His strikes flow like a wave, his form strong and ceaseless under the barrage that assailed him. The War God and his Soaring Phoenix -

His dedicated Shidi had been travelling in the area as part of a mission for the sect. There had been sightings of strange phenomena, and stranger creatures appearing in the area surrounding the Lotus Lakes. While Liu Shidi hadn’t seen anything of the sort himself, he was concerned about their safety. Or well specifically his Shixiong’s, although Shen Qingqiu did have a plan to change that. Well, the outline of a plan, more of a partial kind of well… it was a work in progress! So, this information was perfect! If there was indeed issues in the area it would be remiss of Shen Qingqiu to not survey the area himself as an immortal cultivator, and he couldn’t just leave Binghe, plus his Shidi was already on it so joining them would be no problem! Perfect.

-Liu Qingge parry's a strike, his sword burying itself to the hilt. The wound festers red and black around the blade, the skin pulsating as it seemingly climbed up its’ surface. Trying to tug the blade free was fruitless, as if it was being consumed by the deforming mass beneath him. He swings both the blade and the body stuck to it to block the blow from his front. He can't block the blow that impales his side, nor could he stop the blow to his throat. Thrown from his feet he lands in the lake, sinking beneath the silver water. Bubbles form as his body thrashes in his death throes. White stained red, petals crushed beneath his submerging form. The stain spreads; the bubbles stop.-

It’s fun travelling with them both, yes his husband and Liu Qingge fight like cats and dogs, but on Binghe’s side he practically playing! It’s enrichment!

“Shen Qingqiu, control your husband!” The red flush spreading across his Shidi’s face was rather fetching, he could see why his husband liked causing it… and well, it’s not bullying if his Shidi likes it. The satisfaction points speak for themselves! Though admittedly they are much, much higher when he’s the one teasing his Shidi, a gain however is a gain!

“Liu Shishu just can’t handle losing to this one, maybe Shizun should kiss his wounds as a consolation prize~” A teasing sneer spreads across Binghe’s face as he gloats, a sneaky little glance towards this husband follows. Ah Binghe, you’re coming across too strong! We talked about this, be more gentle! Treat him like a skittish cat!

“Ah Shidi, Binghe’s only teasing.” He raises his fan to cover his face, coyly glancing at his Shidi from behind it, “After all, I’ll only kiss your wounds if you win.”

“Y-You- Shameless!” Yes, he did so love the time they spend together.

-Time after time, one after the other, the grief never fades. The deaths will haunt his mind forever, a permanent scar across his psyche. Will he ever be able to close his eyes without seeing Qingge cut down? His husband gasping for air? His own limbs severed? Yet the hoard encroaches. A never ending onslaught.

"Husband! Behi-" Pain tearing through his spine, an arc of gore glowing in the moonshine. Red blood, black blood. It doesn’t end.

3̵̨̲̰͉̤͓͓̜̯͉͈̕̕͜͜0̶̧̛̝̭͈̤͕͇͙̩̠%̷̞̦̈́̄͆̓̕ Thirty four, Thirty FiVe. His lungs were screaming. Every block, and lunge, and slash, and parry exhausting him to the bone. All he could taste was rust and ash, Qingge fell silently a breath, an incense stick, a shi chen, ago. His body a shield again this master's blunder. He can barely lift his sword, his meridians felt almost burnt from the power cloying the air. A sickeningly wet squelch, Binghe's roar faltering to a whimper as his body hits the rocks. Another demon down, or a cultivator? Bodies falling, falling. He can’t, he can’t. Two red moons fill the sky, water fills his lungs. [User seems to be struggling with this Mission! >_< Poor showing from host! Well User can always retry!! 500 B-points!] [Y/N] [Y]

6̶̠͠0̵͇̐%̶̆͜

FiFty SeveN. He's drowning in blood. Was it Binghe's arm he was holding? It must be, Shidi was dragging him. Somewhere. Hmmm, the shouting is getting closer, and Qingge's breaths sounded quite wet! Ah! He's coughing! Well better out than in, Shidi, ah it's... Dripping. Here, Shixiong will wipe it away... Why... Tears? Ah Shidi looks so!! So!!! If this master wasn't married! Ah Wait we...Well maybe Binghe will... Here Shidi hold on to Binghe for this one a moment. Why are you giving me that look? Ah you're crushing me! For someone so lithe looking you're really quite heavy! Ah, it's quite- Shidi... Liu shidi.. you... Please keep coughing please you're too quiet. Please I can’t... It's tOo quiEt it’s toO [User seems to be running low on B-points. User has 427 B-points remaining! Luckily User 0002 can use his VIP to reduce the cost to 400 B-points for the next attempt!!] [Y/N] [Y] FIFTY EIGHT. Not just demons, not just cultivators. No, of course not. It was him. His fault. Who else could it be? Only he had the power, only he had the will. Only he had the golden finger, the halo, the fucking audacity! But there was something wrong. Glowing red eyes, skin twitching, shifting, like textures not loading in. His voice crackling, modulated.

"Ah S̸͕̑ḫ̴̅ĭ̶̟z̶̡̏u̵͇͂n̵͓͝~ you thought that s̸͍͠e̴͋ͅà̸̗l̵̰͠i̷͓͝n̵͎͑g̵̜̉ this world from me would be so simple? There is nowhere you could run, no world you could jump to, that I would be u̵͚͊n̷̜͆ä̶̢́b̸̞̊ḻ̷͌ě̷̤ to follow. So please, just submit, this Junshang will treat you well."

“go… fuck… yourself..” Spitting words like spitting blood, the ringing of bells…. No… sirens blaring in the skies.

The monster’s ribs cracked and spasms, a twisted knot of glossy black bone and gently pulsating red wires. An artificial monstrosity. What had he done to himself, to gain access to this world? Qingge sprawled in a heap, a black puddle spreading beneath him, Xin Mo sheathed like a grave marker in his back. His husband split throat to navel, his body failing to knit itself back together, strangled gurgles bubbling in his throat. A hoard of demons, no… cultivators? They surround him in twitching, glitching, grinning masses. Their distorted faces all corrupted copies of his own. This time its his own blade that takes his life. The howling, glitching screams of rage following him into the dark.

“Y̷̯͛o̸͇͆ǔ̷ͅ'̴̗̐l̵̦̓l̷͍͠ ̵̜̂b̷͙́e̷̟̊ ̴̱͆m̵͚̈́í̵̲ǹ̷̻e̵̛͚ S̷̝͠h̴̭̔e̵̺͝n̶̆͜ ̵̳̏Ỳ̴̻ü̷͇a̷̤̔n̴͈̅!̴̼̐”

7̸̝̓3̷̬́%̵̧͊ [User 0002 is out of B-Points! It appears you have failed! (>U-U)> But! This generous system is willing to offer User 0002 a super! limited! one! time! offer if User is willing!] [Y/N] [Why]

7̵��̑8̵̰͗%̸̯̈

[Because User 0002 transformed a stupid work into a magnificent, high quality, first-rate classic! It would be a shame for so much work to be unmade due to… external meddling!] [And the cost] [^-^ Will User 0002 not pay any price? This SYSTEM is offering User the chance to escape this fate! Protagonist Luo and Second Male Lead Liu will be alive! The best ending could be in your grasp!! After all “You can you up, no can no bb!” ] [Y/N]

8̷͙͊1̴͉̈%̴̘́

[Y]

8̸̘̊5̷̣̐%̷̟̆

[User 0002 has made the right choice! This SYSTEM can’t wait to work closely with User Shen! <(^3^)>] {Loading World State: 10….........33..............68.............99.........100%} {Creating Mind Space 100%. Building Temporal Archives 100%. Allocating User Permission. . . Complete}

{Clearing WORLD CORRUPTION FILE DATA: E̸̹̋Ṟ̵̅R̵͉͊O̵̳͘R̵̭̿} {Activating ARCHIVIST Protocol...}

F̷̥̀ï̸̮l̸̘̋ḙ̵́ ̶̘͊R̶̲͘e̵̯̋c̸͈̅a̸̡̍ĺ̶̤l̷̪͂ ̴̧̀C̷̤̑ȏ̵͇r̶͎͋ȑ̷͎u̵̳̔p̷̧͑t̵̤͝e̸̡͛d̸̨̽

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[puppetmaster13u]

Continuing to think about This AU idea and just, slowly rotating it like a microwave.

@phoenixcatch7 had the fun idea of xenomorph-inspiration and the dollhouse being replaced by the Hive instead and I am here for that. A large cave that feels utterly wrong to anyone not part of their colony, if they can even find it. I am thinking something similar to Gemini Home Entertainment if anyone has watched that, with something between plant and flesh growing across the walls. Where one can't tell the difference between the two, or realize that it's already gripping onto them. The caves are already dangerous after all, nevermind the depths that It doesn't let anyone else into.

Also made me think about Jason, and like, so he doesn't die in the cryptid au, and definitely wouldn't in a world where he has a flesh puppet. But that still makes me think about how badly said puppet would be utterly maimed, right? Not to mention the explosion that would burn a lot of it too alongside whatever affect that'd have on his mind and human body. But now I am thinking of how the tunnels are everywhere under Gotham, how the bits of tendrils can reach through that ash, can meld with it, can for a cocoon of sorts. Turning a little robin into something else, letting it evolve into something new.

I am also rotating on if they'd be known to the Justice League like in the Doll au or if only Clark knows about them like in the Genesis au. Tempted for the second if only so there can be fun distinctly Not Human moments. Maybe the Justice League even getting concerned for their friend Superman because there's times he'll whistle or chirp under his breath (he might have picked up a few habits from his friends from Gotham) or literally snap his teeth if he's startled.

But oh the lil robins would probably be so adorable. Very fluffy and downy and brightly colored in a clear warning, but still unsettling. The way they move isn't right, like a jerky contortionist, but can also go too fluid or completely inhumanely still within a heartbeat. Not helped by the fact they don't need to breathe. O h, the batfam could most definitely be venomous. What with how in both Aus they use paralytics and sedatives on their claws and spikes, It could definitely include that within the secondary bodies.

[envymaykingstuff]

this is entirely possibly the stupidest thing i have ever done

[pluralprompts]

Prompt #672

System A doesn't really like telling people about it, due to the, uh, risque things people usually think of when they talk about it, but they have tentacles. And oddly enough, since no one in their system ever fully leaves the front, each of them controls their own individual tentacle, a fact that makes controlling them both easier and a lot more complicated.

[sophieinwonderland]

Here's an unusual ask to give you some respite from all the serious asks lately: What's a video game you think I should play today?

Hmm... Any video games?

Just random recommendations?

You know, back a long, long time ago, someone recommended Control on the PS4 to me. It's the oldest game on my list, and it looks really fun, but I still haven't played it.

By the way, if you're plural and can do partial possession, I have an old post that mentions a few fun games to try with that including Fireboy and Watergirl, as well as one called Multitask. And those are both free!

I should really add that to my pinned later!

(I always liked Beat Saber, myself, but most people don't have a VR setup.)

[whumpy-arts-and-crafts]

@whump-art-exchange @shadowsnowdapple

So, my art skills have been rusting away for so many months and I wanted to join this event to get back into drawing. I was really nervous about being unable to provide a good gift, I hope you're satisfied with it.

You mentioned you like curses, possession, restraints and fainting so I tried to incorporate all of those. The story here is, Fare got cursed, meaning he's being possessed and is acting violent, so they had to restrain him.

I chose your character Fare, the shy one, because it's more interesting to me when the possesed character does things they would never normally do (and has to be chained up in a dark room) only to wake up and feel guilt.

Thank you @whump-art-exchange for organising this event, it was so much fun!

[thatonebipotato]

more of this goober. i am SO inconsistent with and bad at drawing Teekl LMAO

[krismoss-dreemurr]

Kris Splatoon

[dragonbma]

I cannot believe it’s been a year since this silly parallel realization. Oh past me if you could see me now. I’m like 58% more conspiracy theorist.

One day I’ll completely snap and do a deep dive on Sea Temple parallels. Alas, until then you just have to look at the board and assume I’m speaking Jabberwocky-