#star wars thorax

[gia-batmm-crickle22]

Yeah… I don't think any of Thrawn's kids are ready to go on missions yet lololol I mean, Charlie is, despite being youngest, but Sakurido and Thorax aren't XD

[smileysuh]

sage & stardust

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I think you’re amazing, and good with your hands, and pretty, and I enjoy spending time with you too,” he counters, echoing the entirety of your sentiment. You stare blankly up at the man. It’s clear he doesn’t know what you’re getting at. You wonder how fairies court each other- do they even court each other? Do fairies have sex? Or are they just… you don’t know, blossomed out of flower buds or something?

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, Mingyu holds y/n down by the wrists, size kink, mentions of possible bondage kink, heavy petting, worship, Mingyu is a boobs guy, nipple sucking, fingering, pussy stretching, foreplay, multiple reader orgasms, oral (f receiving), praise, dirty talk, etc… I pet names: (hers) my star. (his) Gyu.  

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.6k

🍭 aus. Fairy au, fantasy au, non idol. 

☀️ mlist + an. Okay, so, I’ve written sooo many fics on this blog, and lately I’ve been wanting to try things I haven’t done before. I’ve never done a legit small man fairy dude (who does become normal/large sized later) x yn in a fic before, so bare with me, because these two are such a delightfully domestic pairing. Without further adieu, I give you: blue-collar fairy Mingyu. 

Prologue

Pandora lives in a little cottage in the forest. Even though she’s young, she knows the trees and ferns, the mushrooms and flowers. Who needs mundane playthings when you have four entire acres of wilderness to keep you entertained? 

Her mother is an artist, and steady hands run in the family. Pandora spends her evenings carefully painting a dollhouse model of the cottage that her father had crafted for her in his little workshop shed outside.

All in all, it’s a peaceful existence, and things are very predictable. Mother is in the studio solarium room, fingers covered in inks and colorful spots. Father is crafting something in his shed, fixing up the house as he engages in an endless war against the elements of the forest. 

Pandora flutters around, checking in on her parents, and exploring the immediate grounds around the cottage. Today, she’s following a particularly beautiful butterfly as it glides amongst the trees down by the pond. She’s so enamored with the pretty wings, that she almost doesn’t notice the fairy ring. 

A circle of mushrooms, one she’s scouted out before, is along the bank of the murky water. Pandora has heard tales of fairies and pixies, and has been warned not to enter circles like this. She sidesteps the ring, and that’s when she notices something out of place, something that hadn’t been there yesterday.

Just outside of the little circle, is a small creature. At first glance, the glossy wings look butterfly-like, but Pandora has never seen sage green wings like these on a bug. The small child pauses, hiking up her dress and kneeling down to get a better look.

Definitely not a butterfly. Where an insect would have a thorax at the joining of wings, this creature has a tiny little man. Well, he’s bigger than a butterfly would be, but it’s clear to the young girl that she’s looking at a fairy, and as she inspects him further, she notices one of his wings is torn.

Pandora has mended butterfly wings with her father before- she knows what to do, but she’s hesitant. Should she help this small fairy, as she’s helped many bugs before him? Is he simply resting and not in immediate danger?

She looks around, noting any predators in the surrounding area. A large bird circles overhead, and Pandora decides she has to act. Reaching for a leaf, she scoops the tiny fairy's body into the greenery, carefully carrying him back toward the cottage.

As she gets there, she sees her father getting into his work truck to head to town, and Pandora knows better than to stop him. She also knows better than to go interrupt her mother, who is on a deadline for a piece and has asked not to be disturbed.

No, Pandora will have to do this rescue mission herself, and she heads into her father’s workshop to find the glue.

She does her best to be gentle, even with her pudgy fingers, as she mends the torn wing. When she’s done, Pandora finds one of the many small boxes her father has made. It’s a cedar box, with a small, iron latch.

Leaving the fairy, she goes outside, collecting a little nest of moss to put into the box.

When everything is finished, she sets the fairy into the box, carefully closing it and latching it shut. He needs some rest, and as far as the small child is concerned, he’s safer in her little box than lying in the grass where big predators might hurt him.

One:

“I’m sure it’s no surprise that your grandmother left you the cottage,” the lawyer in charge of the estate tells you as he looks over the papers on his desk. “As you are the only artist in the family, Pandora wrote that she hopes the solace will inspire, as it had inspired her, and her mother before her.”

You nod solemnly. It’s a monumental gift, one your cousins would kill you for- but alas, you’d spent the most time with your grandmother in her later days, and the solarium studio is already set up as your own. To be young, and a homeowner now- this had never been your intention in spending time with her, but perhaps it’s a happy outcome, given the dire situation of her passing.

“She also wanted me to tell you, that you can finally open the box.” The lawyer looks at you expectantly, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Do you know what she was referring to?”

“Yes,” you respond. “She’d kept this small cedar box. Her father had made it for her when she was a child. It’s on her nightstand, but she’s never opened it.”

“Well, that’s… interesting.”

“Yeah, Pandora’s Box, I know the story,” you let out a sad chuckle. “Part of me doesn’t want to open it, she always told me not to, I guess I made it this big bad thing in my head as a kid.”

“I’m sure it’s just jewelry or something of the sort,” the lawyer assures you, and you remind yourself that men of the law are never the superstitious type.

Two:

You’re a few glasses deep into your bottle of wine, and you find yourself looking at your grandmother’s small cedar box. Curiosity is getting the better of you, and liquid courage is doing wonders to calm your superstitions. 

There can’t be anything dangerous in the box, or your grandma wouldn’t have left it for you… right?

Taking a breath, you approach the box. It’s sitting on your dining room table, you’d gingerly carried it from the bedroom earlier, with the intention of opening it, and now, you will. 

You sit, staring at it for a few moments. Your hands shake when you reach for it, but you push away your anxiety. The iron latch is old and worn, but it clicks open after a bit of work. Taking another deep breath, you lift the cedar lid. 

Nothing happens, no surge of dark spirits releasing the worst of humanity, no hurricane or pestilence-

You lean forward, looking into the box, and you’re shocked by what you find there.

Half buried in a nest of mossy greens that looked like they were only picked hours ago, is a small winged man. It’s a fairy, you realize, with glossy wings-

He stirs a little, stretching his arms above his head and yawning.

How could this be? Ignoring the moss that’s apparently been preserved for over seventy years, how is this tiny creature still alive after being shut away for a lifetime?

Part of you wants to close the box, to forget about it- but then the tiny man’s eyes open, and he stares up at you. You freeze immediately, as if paralyzed, your mind going blank in the face of the supernatural.

The fairy rubs his eyes, sitting up amongst the bed of moss. His hair is all messy, but in a way that’s kind of adorable. He gazes up at you, and then, he speaks. “Hello?”

“Hi?” It comes out a question, and you’re unsure how to proceed, so you say nothing else.

“Sorry, this is embarrassing,” he laughs, and you note the way his skin has turned pink. “Did you save me?”

“As horrible as this sounds, I uh… inherited you?”

“I don’t even know what that means,” the tiny man muses. “I remember being attacked by a large bird in my realm, my wing was damaged, I made my way to a fairy ring to come to your world and recuperate, but I must have passed out.”

You consider his words for a moment. “My grandma used to fix butterfly wings, is it possible she found you and fixed yours?”

The fairy extends one of his sage appendages, inspecting it. “It definitely looks repaired… Your grandma, you said?”

“Yes.” You nod. “I was told she’d had this box since she was a girl… have you been in here for a long time?”

“I was in hibernation, the dark and the moss- it was healing, I awoke because of the light.”

���So you have been in there for years,” you conclude, shocked. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“How many years is ‘years?’ You humans have a different view of time than I do.”

“Probably seventy or eighty?” you suggest.

“It didn’t feel like that long.” He cocks his head to the side, clearly thinking, then he looks up at you again. “How long have you had me?”

“I uh…” you swallow thickly at the question. “Well, I just inherited the cottage, and my grandma left the box to me in her will too… so, only two days.”

He nods, looking down, continuing to think hard about whatever it is that fairies ponder deeply on. 

“How… how do you feel?”

“Well rested,” he smiles, breaking the look of deep concentration. “I’m ready to get back to tinkering.”

Tinkering… that definitely sounds like a fairy word, and you don’t question him further. 

“Please don’t let me stop you from getting back to your home,” you tell him. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience of my grandmother keeping you in this box all this time.”

“It’s alright,” he yawns again, then pushes himself up from the moss. He’s dressed in a little green fairy outfit, and you do your best to commit him to your memory. His wings are truly beautiful, the way they shimmer even in the electric light of your kitchen. “I remember a pond.”

“Yes, there’s one right out the back way, must be a fairy circle there,” you nod.

“Thank you for the directions,” he smiles sincerely, and then, he begins to fly. You wonder how such delicate-looking wings could carry his body weight as he heads toward your open kitchen window. He lands on the ledge there, turning to give you one final nod of farewell, and then the fairy is gone.

You sit there for a few minutes, staring after him in shock.

How much wine did you have to drink?

Three:

It’s a Thursday like any other. You’re getting used to living in this cute cottage in the woods, spending your mornings waking up with the sun, heating a kettle for tea, and letting the creative juices flow in your mind before you ease your way to the studio to paint.

It’s the end of spring, and the promise of summer warmth is looming on the horizon. 

You’re just beginning to contemplate breakfast when there’s a knock at your door, and it makes your heart freeze in your chest.

Although you might be getting somewhat accustomed to the seclusion, there are still very real dangers of being a single woman out on a large property alone in the woods, and this fact makes you hesitant as you head to your front door.

You can make out a large man through the glass, and you take a breath before peaking your head out. “Hello?”

It takes you a moment to recognize the man, as he’s substantially larger than the last time you saw him. The fairy is no longer palm-sized, instead, he’s well over six foot, and he flashes an awkward smile down at you. “Hi.”

You take in his attire, the worn jeans and the green flannel… you also note that he’s barefooted. “You’re wearing my grandpa's clothes.”

“Yeah, I uh… noticed the box in your truck, figured you might be getting rid of them anyways, so I slipped in through a crack in the window. I couldn’t just show up naked.”

Good point. “You’re big now,” you point out.

“Can I uh… can I come in?” He rubs the back of his neck nervously, surveying your front porch.

You take a breath. Part of you says this is a bad idea, but part of you is also saying that this is a fairy the size of a human man, and if you don’t hear him out, you’ll be wondering what could have been for the rest of your life.

You push your door open for him. “I just made some tea, follow me.”

The fairy’s footsteps are loud on your wooden floors as he shadows you to the kitchen. You give him your cup, pouring a second one for yourself before leaning back against your sink. 

“I don’t even know where to start,” the fairy sighs, taking a seat at your small dining table. He cups his large hands around the mug of tea, as if warming himself.

“Well, I’m y/n,” you tell him.

He smiles thankfully. “Mingyu.”

“Nice to meet you again, Mingyu, how about you tell me how you’re human-sized and your wings are gone?”

“Fairies can transform. In my own realm, keeping my smaller shape is easier, but here- it takes less energy to just… blend in. It’s a sort of, um, adaptation, for survival, I guess.” 

“It doesn’t make sense how you can go from tiny to massive,” you point out.

“Well, you see, I’m big for a fairy,” Mingyu laughs nervously. “It’s part of the reason I never fit in that well with others of my kind.”

You frown at his words, giving him the space to continue.

“Yeah, so anyways, I went back home, and I had been gone a while, and it just felt weird. I hadn’t fit in before, and I didn’t fit in when I got back, and I guess I just figured… you’re a girl, and you’re here alone, in the forest- I mentioned I’m a tinkerer right? I fix things? Was thinking maybe I could help fix up your place.”

Is he seriously offering to fix your house? You stare at him in shock. “I’ve never really thought about fairies being blue-collared.”

“Blue-collared?” he looks down at his flannel in confusion.

“Never mind, it’s uh, it’s a phrase, it means you’re a worker, you do building and stuff.”

“I’m really good at building and fixing things,” he nods solemnly. 

“So… you want to stay here with me? Room, board, food… in return, you’ll fix up the cottage?” you clarify.

“I guess.”

You study him. “I’ve heard about pixies and fairies who try to lure people into fairy rings-”

“It’s not like that, I promise.” He meets your gaze. “Look, what if I fix your little shed workshop thing, show you what I can do, and you can decide later?”

You consider it for a moment. “I guess that could work, but first, you’ll need some workboots.”

“If you think that’s best.”

God, he probably does most of his tinkering while fairy-sized and barely wearing clothes… which isn’t something you want to think about.

Setting your tea down, you head to one of the back closets, where you’d stashed away a few of your grandfather’s possessions, the important things, unlike the donation box currently in your truck.

You find Mingyu some shoes, and when you go give them to him, he flashes you a smile and heads outside to get to work. 

Four:

You’re doing your best to focus on painting, but your solarium gives you a perfect view of your grandfather's old work shed, where Mingyu is currently tinkering around. 

He’s fast, and it’s clear he knows what he’s doing.

Your grandfather’s shed has a whole stash of tools, shingles, and wood, and Mingyu has already redone the roof, ripped a few worn boards off to replace them along the sides, and completed general tidying work.

He’s even weed-whacked the tall grass around the workstation, and as lunch turns into evening, he comes back from the woods with a small tree on his shoulder, which he then begins to chop for firewood.

You can definitely see how he’d be helpful to have around… and you can afford to feed him if he’s going to fix up your home. He’s probably already done a couple hundred dollars of work, maybe even a thousand- work that you’d been meaning to hire someone to deal with once you’d settled in a little more. 

You get started on dinner. You’d planned on rice bowls, and it’s easy enough to make a plate for him. Then, you go outside, calling him toward you.

Mingyu’s sweaty, and he’s got some sawdust on his jeans- but God, does he look handsome and chipper.

“I made dinner,” you tell him.

He nods, smiling before following you inside. You note the way he takes off his boots at your door, brushing off his pants, careful not to bring any dirt into your otherwise tidy house.

The two of you sit down to eat, and he’s extremely verbal about how thankful he is for the food, and how good it tastes-

You come up with an avenue of discussion to distract him from his praises. “What would you living here entail?”

He pauses. “I hadn’t thought too hard about it.”

“I feed you, you do work, you live here?”

“Something like that.”

“How long do you keep your human shape?”

Mingyu takes a breath, setting down his spoon. “I’ll be honest with you, whether you see it this way or not, your grandmother saved me. I was wounded, I came to your realm, anything could have gotten me, but your grandma saved me, glued my wing, and kept me safe so I could hibernate and heal. I owe your family. My home isn’t my home anymore, please let me help you make this cottage your home.”

“No, I-” you release the tension in your shoulders, “you can stay, but, seriously, how long do you keep your human shape?”

“Is it a space thing?” Mingyu looks around. “I can be small when I sleep if it’s a space thing-”

“I mean, my grandma has a replica doll house of the cottage that her dad made for her, was going to offer that up for you.” It’s meant to be a joke, but Mingyu takes it completely seriously, nodding diligently. 

“That works, I just have to go collect some moss to make a bed-”

“Are you being for real?” you ask, blinking at him.

“I should probably go back to my normal size when I sleep, it makes sense and takes up less space,” Mingyu nods.

“If you change your mind, I do have a spare bedroom.” 

“Nope,” the man-sized fairy shakes his head, “the doll house works.”

“Well… if you want to go get some moss, I can grab the box of clothes from my truck,” you suggest.

“Let’s do it.” Mingyu is so easy, he just agrees to everything. 

Soon the two of you are reconvening at your front door, you with a box, him with a palm full of moss. “The doll house is in the studio, I was planning to paint it.” Mingyu follows you to the solarium. In the dark of the evening, you have to turn on the fairy lights you’d strung up, and Mingyu lets out a breath.

Even you have to admit the space has ambiance. The solarium studio is a lovely part of the house, your favorite in fact, although, tonight, you’re feeling a little shy about your art strewn about.

“Did you paint all of these?” Mingyu asks, approaching your most recent work.

“Yeah, they’re uh, abstracts,” you explain. “I mean, I gather a lot of inspiration from nature, but it’s more a feeling than a specific thing that I like to paint, if that makes any sense.”

“It does,” Mingyu nods, leaning down to get a better look at your art. 

“My grandma, she uh, she was an artist too, and so was her mother, and she gave me the house because she knew I needed inspiration-”

“Maybe that’s why she gave you me too.”

Your heart lurches in your chest, and you blink up at the tall man. “Uh… maybe.”

“So this cottage has a long line of artists and tinkerers,” Mingyu concludes.

“The line ended in my mother’s generation,” you sigh.

“That’s not true.” Mingyu looks down at you. “We’re here now.”

Five:

You wake up feeling as refreshed and well-rested as ever. It’s odd how much of a difference having a male presence in the house can make, even if he was the size of your palm while you were sleeping. 

You’ve been here over a month, but you’ve not yet gotten used to the seclusion, the feeling of being alone. Mingyu is an unexpected comfort, and you quietly tiptoe to your solarium to see if he’s awake.

The nest of moss in the dollhouse is empty, and you move to your kitchen, getting a kettle started before looking out the window. Mingyu’s lumbering around in the tree line. He’s dressed in a white shirt and blue jeans, and damn does it look good.

You turn on some music, quietly making breakfast for two while trying to fight the urge to watch the beautiful man.

You’d slept in more than normal, another byproduct of feeling safe, and due to that, by the time you’re taking two plates of food outside, the temperature of the late spring air is already warming with the noon sun.

“Mingyu,” you call, finding him by the workshed, “breakfast!”

He bounds over like a puppy, and you set the plates down on a small circular table. The metal lawn set can be a bit rough, and you’ve tried to soften it with comfy pillows. Mingyu doesn’t seem to mind as he plops down, grabbing the bacon sandwich you’d prepared.

“Smells delicious,” he tells you, taking the largest bite of food you’ve ever seen.

You watch him, amused. “Did you get up early?”

“Yeah, I don’t need much sleep. Just spent eighty years sleeping, or so you tell me.” Mingyu smiles at you, a tight-lipped smile to hide the food in his mouth, you’re sure. 

“It’s a nice day,” you sigh, leaning back in your chair and looking at the world around you.

The sun is out, it’s a little cold, but the sky is clear. Dew drops are in the last stages of evaporation, clinging to the green strands of grass along the hillside area that leads down to the pond.

“Every day is a good day for tinkering,” Mingyu agrees. “Which, I meant to ask- is there anything you wanted me to do?” 

“Uh… like what?”

“I’ll finish the shed soon,” Mingyu promises. “I already have ideas about extending it, but, if you wanted me to paint the house, fix anything inside that’s a little wonky and in need of tinkering-”

“I think you should focus on the shed, if you want to extend it, you should.” For some reason, you’re apprehensive about him coming into the house just yet- you need to… acclimatize to his presence, and right now, having a wall of glass between the two of you is keeping your heart from exploding every time you look at him. “Do you uh… do you need anything to build your addition?”

“Your grandfather kept a lot of tools, nails, screws- and we’re surrounded by trees. He had loads of extra shingles, enough for years of repairs to the cottage and the shed.” Mingyu smiles at you. “I think I’ll manage… but, when it comes time to paint it, maybe we could paint it together?”

“Maybe.” You can feel your skin heating at the idea. “Anyways, I wanted to bring you some food, now I’ve gotta go inside my studio and get to work.”

“Sounds good, tinkering calls, thanks for breakfast.” Mingyu pushes the last massive bite of his sandwich into his mouth before standing up.

He nods to you and then you watch him go, sneaking a look at his butt before you tear your eyes away.

This could either be the best idea of your life, or the worst. 

Six:

Mingyu had taken his time with the shed. He’d made it twice the size, and added more windows that your grandfather had left sitting around in the original structure- it’s crazy how much he’s accomplished using only the things that are left over and semi discarded.

Then, Mingyu had taken to restoring the inside. He’d spent two days just moving stuff around, tidying and dusting- and another day just cutting wood to fill up his firewood stash. 

Now, a week after showing up at your door, he’s finally come inside to begin tinkering with old hinges and loose screws. He’s going over every inch of your cottage to make sure it’s up to his fairy standards, and you’re extremely aware of him, especially when he makes it to the solarium to begin to work.

The french doors have been a little off for years, one hinge is a little wonky- and it’s hard to focus on your painting while Mingyu’s standing there and fiddling- or, scratch that, tinkering. 

“Watcha working on?” Mingyu asks, and you suppose he must have caught you staring.

“Oh, uh… it’s a new project, and starting is always the hardest part.”

Mingyu comes around your easel, looking at the new blank canvas you had pulled out just an hour ago.

“Do you have any ideas?” he questions.

“I mean… one or two.”

Mingyu cocks his head at you. “Tell me.”

You release a deep sigh. “I guess… I was wondering if maybe… maybe I could paint your wings sometime, in an abstract sort of way.”

Mingyu is quiet for a few moments, and you immediately try to backpedal, but he stops you. “No, it’s okay, sorry, I was just- I’ve never been someone’s muse before.”

“You haven’t?”

He shakes his head. “In uh… where I come from, my wings aren’t exactly that extraordinary.” 

“Really?” you ask in shock.

“Yeah, they’re just green. I know a lot of fairies with all sorts of colored wings, pinks, purples- every color of the rainbow. Green is… well, it’s bland, it’s like everything else in the forest.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. “You seem to forget that I came to the forest for inspiration- the greens here are beautiful. If I remember correctly, your wings are like… sage and stardust.”

“Sage and stardust,” Mingyu repeats, his voice like a whisper. He cracks a smile. “I like that.”

“So you’ll let me paint them?”

“If it would make you happy.”

“It would.”

“Then yes, you can paint by wings.”

Seven:

Mingyu’s continued his daily tinkerings, but now, your evenings are spent in your solarium. You’d found one of your grandmother’s magnifying glasses, the type she used for butterfly wing repair, and Mingyu is the perfect muse, sitting patiently and letting you inspect him.

You’d spent half an hour just trying to get the color of his wings right, and now, you’re doing long brush strokes against the cream canvas. You’d found some glitter too, and while Mingyu spends most of the time sitting on your shoulder while you’re painting, he also offers to douse his hands in sparkles and do the small details for you.

It’s odd, thirsting for this large, beefy man during the day, only for him to downsize and nuzzle into your hair at night- he’s still so cute as a fairy, and his wings are truly beautiful.

“You see me like this?” Mingyu asks, fluttering off your shoulder to gaze at the painting. He’s so small in comparison to the large canvas. “These are really my wings?” 

“They’re beautiful, Gyu,” you tell him, giving him a nickname without a second thought.

“Gyu,” Mingyu repeats, turning to look at you. “I like that.”

You hold out your paint brush, and he flutters over to it, balancing on the wooden handle.

It’s crazy how you’re already getting used to him- to the little things, Mingyu included. 

Eight:

It’s gotten to the point where Mingyu wants to paint the shed, so the two of you decide to head into town together. It’s a small population, and you know that the sight of the two of you is raising a few eyebrows as you enter the paint store.

Mingyu sticks out, not only for his size, but his beauty as well. He truly is stunning, and you notice multiple women staring as the two of you wander around the store.

“So what coloring are you thinking?” Mingyu asks, heading to a wall of paint swatches. 

“I mean… I just sort of figured we’d repaint it to match the house again?” you suggest.

“Well… it’s your house now,” Mingyu points out. “What are your dream colors?”

“My dream colors?”

“Yeah, I promised you I’d help you make it your dream home, didn’t I?” 

Your heart melts as you stare up at this gorgeous man. He has such a soft heart, you can’t believe how much you care for him after only two weeks, how much he clearly cares for you- but you try not to read into it too deeply. 

You turn to look at the paint swatches, truly considering what your dream home would look like.

You choose a pallet, showing it to Mingyu, and he nods. “This will be great.”

The two of you go to get the paint, and soon, you’re back in your truck. You try to play the radio, but it doesn’t drown out your thoughts, so you turn the music down.

“Did you notice how many people were looking at you today?” you ask.

“Hmm?” Mingyu tears his gaze from the trees moving by.

“Girls, a lot were staring.”

“Were you staring?” 

You flash a glimpse at Mingyu and find him grinning at you… is there a mutual attraction here? Does he like you the way you like him?

Things are just so easy. Choosing paint with him for your house, letting him make your house your dream house- it all just feels so domestic, not to mention the fact that you generally don’t like people watching you work on your art, but you feel comfortable with him.

“I, uh… yeah, I look at you, we’re friends.” You cough, forcing your eyes back to the road.

“Close friends,” Mingyu confirms.

You turn the radio back up, and Mingyu looks out at the trees again, but he doesn’t stop smiling, and your heart doesn’t stop racing either.

Nine:

It’s hard to sleep. You can’t help but think about the car ride with Mingyu earlier. 

He has to be attracted to you… right?

He’s been more touchy during your late-night painting sessions, and less afraid to cuddle up in your hair. You’ve noticed him watching you too… often when you look at him, you catch his gaze already on you.

Cohabitation with a man as fine as he is- well, you know where it leads, and you’re a little shocked you’ve gotten this far without breaking first.

You toss and turn in your bed, groaning.

God, when was the last time you were this horny?

Can you… can you touch yourself with him right downstairs? Is that weird? What if he catches you? Mingyu said it himself, he doesn’t sleep much- and… is his hearing better as a fairy? You don’t actually know much about his abilities when he has wings… maybe these are things you should ask.

You let out a sigh, bringing your hand to your breast through your sleeping shirt. In no time at all, your nipple is pebbled against your touch. You release another breath, closing your eyes and thinking about Mingyu. 

You search through your memories, deciding to focus on the thought of him chopping wood. God, in his little tank top, his muscles all bulging and glorious- the way his sweat begins to drip, making the fabric stick to his skin, showing off his abdominal muscles-

You can feel your pussy getting wet, and you begin to glide a hand down between your legs-

You stop, opening your eyes. Fuck, you can’t do this. It feels dirty, sinful- and not in a fun flirty way. 

This isn’t something that you can continue with- you can’t keep feeling this way. You have to tell Mingyu how you feel. If it ruins everything then it ruins everything, but you can’t keep this cohabitation agreement up if you’re falling in love with the man- or, should you say, fairy.

God, maybe you should have never opened Pandora’s Box. It wasn’t a flurry of chaos, not one you could see anyway, but you’re beginning to feel chaotic inside, and coming clean to Mingyu is the only way to get it settled. 

Ten:

When you wake up the next morning, you move slowly. You have a shower, make some tea, and then, after going through an internal script numerous times, you decide to go outside to tell Mingyu how you feel. 

He’s been painting the shed all morning, that much is obvious from how much he’s completed- and to make matters worse for yourself, he’s shirtless.

You almost turn and go right back inside, but instead, you pull up your big girl panties, taking a few deep breaths.

You have to do this, you’ll regret it if you don’t- just as you knew you’d regret it if you hadn’t let Mingyu inside a few weeks ago to hear him out.

“Gyu?” you call.

“Oh, hi!” he waves, and you watch paint splatter everywhere from the brush in his hand. “Oops!” 

God, he’s so- he’s so- he’s a big dork, in the best way possible.

You watch Mingyu wipe his hand across his abdomen, clearing the splatter stain there. “Had to take my shirt off, painting isn’t my strong suit sometimes,” he explains, putting the brush back into the can before he approaches you. “What’s up?”

Suddenly, everything you’d planned to say to him just disappears from your mind.

“Are you thirsty?” you ask, voice cracking.

“Could use some water,” he nods.

“Come inside,” you instruct, tearing your gaze away from Mingyu’s perfect body to lead him back into your cottage.

He follows you like a good boy, taking his boots off on your deck before joining you in the kitchen where you have a cup of water waiting for him. 

Your hand is practically shaking as you give him the cup, and he looks you up and down, an expression of concern appearing on his face. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” You swallow thickly, shaking your head. “Just… a little jittery.”

“Is there something on your mind?” Mingyu questions, taking a sip of his water.

God, he’s still shirtless, and it’s as if he doesn’t even realize it! It’s as if being half naked in your kitchen is the most normal thing in the world to him!

You take a deep breath, doing your best to hype yourself up. “I like you,” you say finally.

“I like you too,” Mingyu grins.

“No, I… I like like you.” 

“Like like?” he repeats, cocking his head to the side in confusion. 

“As in… I think you’re really amazing and good with your hands, and you’re handsome, and I enjoy spending time with you,” you blurt. 

“I think you’re amazing, and good with your hands, and pretty, and I enjoy spending time with you too,” he counters, echoing the entirety of your sentiment. 

You stare blankly up at the man. It’s clear he doesn’t know what you’re getting at. You wonder how fairies court each other- do they even court each other? Do fairies have sex? Or are they just… you don’t know, blossomed out of flower buds or something?

“Mingyu,” you take another very deep breath, stepping closer to him. “I feel for you, in here.” You put your hand over his heart, looking up at him, searching his brown eyes for some form of recognition, of understanding. 

Mingyu’s lips part, and his gaze shifts to your hand, then, he slowly places his own over yours. His palm is warm, and he squeezes you gently. “Are you saying you love me?” he asks.

You blink… it feels like he’s skipping a few steps here. You love him as a friend, and you’re attracted to him, but you’re not… in love with him, not yet anyway. 

“I-” You swallow thickly and decide to just be honest. “I think… things could be heading that way, with some more time.”

“More time?” Mingyu frowns a little. “Humans can be weird.”

“We can?” you laugh. “What’s love like for you?”

“Fairies don’t do anything halfway. We feel intensely, more so than humans I think.”

“Have you…” you cough. “Have you ever been in love before?”

“No.”

“So… how do you know what you’re feeling right now is love?”

“I know it because I would do anything for you. Just being near you makes me happy. I want to protect you, and provide for you- I’d give up my wings for you. I choose you over any of my own kind, because you understand me and accept me better than my own kind. I don’t need anyone else but you.” 

You don’t know what to say, so you choose not to say anything. Instead, you get on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his own.

Mingyu freezes for a moment, but then he reciprocates, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you tight to his chest. 

It’s a slow kiss, an exploratory one. It’s soft and gentle and every good thing, but you get the sense you’re going to have to lead the build-up of this. After a few kisses, you lick at his lower lip, and Mingyu responds by opening his mouth, allowing you to deepen the experience. 

His hands grab your hips, and Mingyu pushes you backward until your bum hits the counter, then he lifts you onto it, prompting you to wrap your legs around his hips. 

As you kiss him, there’s a small voice in the back of your mind reminding you that this is a fairy. His original form is small… but as he grinds against you, you realize that what’s inside his pants right now is anything but tiny. 

God, he feels so good- and he’s already shirtless, which gives you the perfect opportunity to graze your hands along his body, teasing the muscle you find there. Mingyu shivers from the contact, breaking the kiss.

He presses his forehead against yours, breathing deeply, and you can feel his heart racing under your palm. 

“Do you want to do this? Even though you don’t love me the way I love you?” He asks.

“I want this, and I do love you Mingyu, I just…”

“You need more time,” he sighs.

“I think… do you remember how you said eighty years felt fast in the box for you? I feel like, you just move faster than I do, and that’s not a bad thing, it’s just… something we have to adjust for.”

“Adjust how?” Mingyu questions, looking down at you as his hands grip your hips harder.

You shrug. “Maybe you’ll just have to be patient with me.”

“Do I have to wait to say ‘I love you’ since you’re waiting?”

You smile up at him. “You can do anything that feels right, Mingyu.”

“This feels right,” Mingyu muses, pulling you closer to the edge of the table so he can grind his denim-clad cock against your core.

“Then do this,” you whisper, cupping his cheek and drawing his lips back to yours. 

Mingyu doesn’t fight it, in fact, he melts into the kiss, and then, his hands are grabbing your thighs and he’s lifting you up.

You grip his strong shoulders, releasing a small squeal of shock- but you refuse to break the kiss as he begins to carry you through your cottage. He knows where your bedroom is, and it’s sweet that he wants your first time to be on an actual mattress- you’d half expected him to bend you over in your kitchen and have his way with you right there, but you suppose that’s not really his style.

You still have so much more to learn about Mingyu, and you’re excited to take your time learning it. 

Mingyu lays you down gently on your bed, and his lips move to your throat. His hands find yours, and your fingers intertwine as he sucks on your sweet spot, making you moan and writhe against the bed beneath him. 

“Fuck,” you groan, brows furrowing from the pleasure already coursing through you. 

Mingyu grins against your throat, and then he begins to descend.

You’re wearing a sleeping shirt and boxers, and Mingyu’s hand is sneaking up the oversized fabric. “Can I take this off you?” he asks, pulling away and swallowing thickly, his gaze fixed on your covered chest.

You nod, but instead of forcing him to do it, you push on your wrist confines, prompting Mingyu to let you go so you can sit up, tearing the shirt off. You’re not wearing a bra, and Mingyu’s pupils blow at the sight.

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours again as he helps you back down to the bed. You relax against the duvet, enjoying the sensation of your bare chests rubbing against each other. Your nipples are pebbled from interest, and each brush of him against you feels like magic, especially when he begins to swivel his hips, grinding down against your pussy.

His mouth begins to move down again, and this time, there’s no fabric to stop him in his tracks. Mingyu’s lips wrap around your nipple, your fingers threading through his hair as you fight the urge to arch your back and moan like a whore in heat.

“Feels good,” you tell him, earning a groan from the large man who sucks on your pebbled bud even harder.

His free hand is on your hip, but soon, it’s rising to massage your neglected breast. His warm palm feels so good- your eyes close in pleasure, your body reacting to Mingyu and the foreplay he’s providing.

You thread your fingers deeper into his curls, gently massaging his scalp while he works you up, teasing you in the best possible way.

He’s clearly solely focused on you, you don’t think there’s an ulterior motive, a motive of getting you to beg or forcing you to wait, you think he’s simply enjoying you, and you love the feeling of being enjoyed in this way.

Even so- now it’s your patience that’s running thin, and you tug at his curls, forcing his mouth away from your breast. He looks up at you with confusion, lips parting in a silent question.

“I need you,” you tell him, swallowing thickly. 

“You have me,” he assures you with a laugh. 

“I mean-”

His hand slips between your thighs, rubbing your pussy through your boxers. “You mean, you need me here,” Mingyu finishes for you.

Fuck, he’s so hot- part of you had expected him to be a virgin fairy who’s never been in love, but it’s clear from his dirty talk that he’s no virgin. 

Your pussy is wet, and you can feel a wet spot to match in your shorts, you’re sure Mingyu can feel it too.

“Since…” Mingyu takes a breath, and you can see his skin beginning to flush a pretty shade of pink, “since I’m the one who likes you more, maybe you’ll let me take my time and do what I want to do? Out of… pity?”

You laugh. “Pity? I don’t pity you- I kind of love you, Gyu, I said that-”

“Just kind of, though,” he points out, leaning down to bite your nipple gently.

You groan, arching your back and taking a deep breath. “Fine. Do whatever you want to me. Take your time. Worship me. Make me fall in love with you.”

Mingyu smiles, and then he whispers a soft, “Thank you,” before diving back toward your chest.

It’s clear that now that you’ve given him permission, he’s in no rush.

He worships your breasts, just like you’d told him to, taking all the time he wants to massage and lick and kiss and bite- and then, one of his hands returns between your legs, pushing your boxers to the side so he can access your dripping pussy.

He’s gentle at first, circling your sensitive clit and teasing your slit up and down. Then, after too much teasing for your tastes, he eases his finger into your tight hole. He’s gentle as he begins to finger fuck you, working you open at a snail's pace-

You think, as someone who time moves fast for, he really must be savoring every long moment of this. He wants to take his time with you, and for a fairy, that means something.

Mingyu’s lips are still wrapped around your nipple, and as he adds a second digit to your core, you think you might just combust.

“Gyu,” you whimper.

He hums in response.

“I’m close,” you tell him, beginning to wiggle your hips against his hand. “I’m so close-”

Mingyu’s palm finds your clit, and he finger fucks you harder, crooking his digits to reach a spot that has your toes curling.

“Oh my god-” you groan, closing your eyes and latching onto Mingyu’s hair as an anchor, keeping his face buried in your tits as he works you closer and closer to the edge-

One graze of his teeth across your nipple has you cumming on his fingers, and Mingyu releases his own sound of pleasure to echo the whimpers escaping your lips.

He’s got you pinned to the bed, there’s nowhere to go, nothing to do except take what he’s giving you.

He works you through your high, allowing you to feel every lick of pleasure as it courses through your entire body-

You’re a gasping mess at the end of it, and Mingyu gingerly removes his fingers from your pussy, pulling away from your chest to sit up on his knees, licking his digits clean as he inspects you carefully.

“Are you okay, my star?” 

You shiver at the nickname, a whispered echo of your pleasure running through you.

“Yeah,” you nod, still trying to catch your breath.

“Was that good for you?” he asks, teasing his wet finger across your nipple and making you shiver again. “It was good for me.”

“It was so good,” you groan, shifting against the bed.

“Good.” Mingyu hooks his fingers in your boxers, tearing them down your legs. 

You’re now completely bare for him, and you expect Mingyu to work on his jeans next, but he doesn’t. He lays down between your thighs, looking up at you as he peppers your skin with chaste kisses.

“Ready for more?” he questions.

You groan, and the groan turns into a laugh. “I guess I told you to do whatever you want to me,” you sigh, adjusting your legs so your feet are flat and your knees are bent, giving him better access to your pussy for what you know is about to come next. 

“You did.” Mingyu’s breath is hot against your still pulsing core, and you grab at the duvet in preparation, knowing he’s about to completely rock your world for a second time. 

Mingyu doesn’t say anything else, he continues to kiss up your thigh, and he doesn’t stop. When he reaches your core, he licks your clit gently, circling it.

You open your eyes, looking down at him to find his own lids are closed. He’s completely focused on pleasuring you, and as he pushes his tongue into your core, lapping at your slit- well, fuck, no thoughts are going through your mind.

You can only whimper, grabbing the duvet tighter, your toes curling deliciously as this man eats you out in a way that no man ever has.

He really is taking his time. It’s clear this isn’t just a duty or a ‘task’ he has to complete in order to fuck you, no, eating you out is as much his pleasure as it is yours, and somehow, that knowledge makes it even better.

You give yourself to the pleasure. There’s no anxiety, no racing thoughts, or pressures you’re imposing on yourself.

You know there’s not a time limit. Mingyu’s not eager to make you cum so he can fuck you, he’s simply enjoying the act of licking your pussy- so you simply enjoy it too.

You’re not keeping track of time, your focus is solely on the pleasure running through you, and the way it’s building.

Soon, you’re at the edge again, and you warn Mingyu, your thighs twitching around his head.

Mingyu groans in response, lips wrapping around your clit. A squeal escapes you, your chest heaving, back arching off the bed as your second orgasm slams into you.

This one is even more electric than the first, and it almost feels like you’re floating off the mattress- like you’re truly ascending to cloud nine, as if you - like Mingyu - have wings.

God, there’s not a feeling like it in the world, especially as Mingyu continues to suck your clit, working you through the most intense high of your entire life. Your legs are fully quaking around him now, your grip like a vice on the duvet.

Thank God you live in the middle of nowhere because you’re aware that you’re being loud. 

Mingyu’s groaning too, his fingers digging into your thighs, keeping you pinned and in place for him to eat you through the pussy contracting pleasure convulsions that are threatening to overtake your entire body in an ecstasy you’ve never, ever experienced before. 

The large man finally lets up, and you gasp, flopping back down against the bed. There are aftershocks of pleasure, and you jolt a little, goosebumps erupting on your flesh from the sensation. 

You feel the bed shift, and you look from under heavy lids to see Mingyu standing at the foot of the mattress, finally taking off his jeans.

Fuck, he’s huge- maybe foreplay wasn’t so much of a want, as a necessity. 

“You still want me?” Mingyu asks, joining you on the bed again, his breath hot against your throat as he grinds down against you, teasing his cock against your dripping pussy.

“Fuck, I need you,” you tell him.

Mingyu kisses you then, grabbing your hands and putting them above your head. He collects your wrists in one grip, and with his free hand, he grabs his cock, lining it up with your core.

“If it hurts-”

“You’ve made me cum twice,” you tell him, “I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay.”

“Whatever you say, my star,” he grins, pressing his lips to yours as he pushes the head of his cock into your tight, wet hole.

You groan desperately, struggling against his grip on your wrists, but Mingyu doesn’t let up. In fact, he tightens his hold on you, pushing his cock even deeper into your core.

The sounds you’re making are feral as he kisses you, his lips and tongue are hot against your own in the most delicious way.

You can feel your pussy stretching to accommodate for his girth, and when his hips are finally flush against your own, you think this might just be the most full you’ve ever felt in your entire life.

Mingyu breaks the kiss, panting and looking down at you. “You feel perfect,” he whispers.

“You feel perfect,” you counter, feeling a little dim with your repetition of his own works back to him, but also too fucked out to think of anything better. 

He only grins, drawing his lips to yours. It’s a gentler kiss as he begins to fuck you, his motions slow so you can acclimatize to the massive cock that’s already rearranging your guts. 

You get lost in him, and there’s a kind of safety in having your hands pinned down above your head. You can’t quite explain it- maybe it’s just a size kink? You can’t have a bondage kink, can you? Does Mingyu even know what bondage is? Do fairies watch porn?

You push the thoughts from your head, focusing on the cock that’s dragging against your sensitive inner walls.

Soon, you’re moaning loudly again, and Mingyu finally lets up on your wrists. “I kind of…” he swallows thickly, thrusts faltering, “I kind of want you to ride me when you cum.”

“You do?”

“I’ve… well, I know I’ve been a little rough-”

“You haven’t been rough,” you assure him.

“I just mean, the first two times you came, I did what I wanted, and I want you to be in control for this last one, don’t want to overstimulate you.” 

It’s a soft idea, and you nod up at him. “I’ll ride you.”

“Good.” Mingyu kisses you gently, and then the two of you are adjusting.

He lays flat as you swing your leg over his hip, grabbing his cock to line it up with your core so you can slowly sink down on him.

Mingyu groans, his hands settling on your hips to help you be gentle as you come to a fully seated position on his cock.

“You look so perfect like this, my star,” he tells you, one free hand moving up to grab your breast, massaging it gently and pinching at your nipple.

“Think you can cum with me, Gyu?” you ask, beginning to bounce.

You watch Mingyu’s lips part in concentration, his gaze fixed on your chest. He’s clearly in a daze, and it’s adorable. “I’ll cum with you,” he whispers. “You’re so beautiful.”

“You’re quite handsome yourself,” you smile.

Mingyu’s ears turn pink first, and it’s so endearing to watch the massive man flush from a compliment as you’re riding his cock.

God, he is a perfect man, isn’t he?

“I think… I think I was made to be found by you,” Mingyu says, looking up at you with eyes full of adoration. “I don’t know what I’d do If I never met you.”

“Gyu,” you coo, slowing your thrusts. Mingyu sits up, allowing you to pull him to your chest, cradling him to your breast as your fingers stroke through his hair. 

“I do love you,” he continues. “And… it’s okay if you don’t love me the same way yet. I know it’s fast, even for me, but… yeah.”

“It’s fast, but that’s okay. You don’t have to hide yourself from me,” you tell him, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

“You don’t have to hide from me either,” Mingyu promises.

He lays back down flat, and you move with him, your chests pressed together as you ride his cock, groaning into his ear.

Mingyu’s hands are warm on your hips, and he steadies you, beginning to thrust up to meet your movements.

You both release sounds of pleasure, and you can feel your hearts racing together in your chests as they remain pressed to each other.

You’re tired, but you’re also eager to cum again, so you push through, closing your eyes and focusing on the pleasure instead of the increasing burn in your thighs.

“Are you close?” Mingyu pants in your ear. “I’m close.”

His sounds are like magic, and they help drag you to join Mingyu on the edge. “I’m close,” you confirm, swallowing thickly.

“Can we cum together?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, muscles clenching in preparation. 

Mingyu fucks up into you even harder, and you put all of your energy into carrying this out, into riding this man until you pass out from how good everything is about to feel.

He releases another grunt, and you press your lips to his own, which is all it takes for you to both fall over the edge together.

You feel like you’re flying again, it’s almost an out-of-body pleasure-fueled experience, but this time, Mingyu’s with you, and you know you’ll be safe with the man who knows how to navigate the skies.

He cradles you to his chest, keeping his cock buried as deep as it can go in your core. You’re both kissing each other desperately, shaking and contracting from orgasms that continue to surge through you. Your hearts are racing together, and you’re both trying to catch your breaths even in the midst of a passionate kiss.

Everything just feels so right, and natural.

It’s as if your body was made to do this, with Mingyu especially.

Soon, your orgasms are subsiding, and you’re simply kissing now. 

Mingyu holds you close, not letting you go until he’s good and satisfied.

You take a deep breath, breaking the kiss to look down at him. “So…”

“So,” he grins.

“So… I guess this changes our arrangement a little?”

Mingyu laughs, holding you tighter. “Does this mean I don’t have to sleep in the dollhouse anymore?”

You find yourself chuckling too, and the contraction it causes of your pussy around Mingyu’s cock makes him groan desperately, his hand pushing on the small of your back. 

“You don’t have to sleep in the dollhouse.”

“I meant it when I said I’d give up my wings for you,” Mingyu muses, turning serious as he looks up at you.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“The future-”

“Is something we can talk about later,” you assure him. “Right now, I just want to enjoy you.”

“I guess… I guess we can do that,” Mingyu concedes. His arms wrap tighter around you, securing you down against his chest. He tucks you under his chin, releasing a deep breath, and that’s where you fall asleep, completely content with your blue-collared, human-sized, fairy lover.

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🔮 preview. “I’m happy where I am… but, when you cum, I’ll let you warm up while I fuck you stupid.” Mingyu never used to swear. He used to call sex ‘making love’ and something about it had made you uncomfortable in some weird way- so your soft lover has taken to using profanity for your own benefit, and you can’t help the way your body reacts to the term ‘fuck you stupid.’

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, size kink, worship, Mingyu is a boobs guy, nipple play, fingering, pussy stretching, foreplay, multiple reader orgasms, hand job, shower sex, praise, dirty talk, etc… I pet names: (hers) my star. (his) Gyu. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.7k I teaser wc. 175

🌙 starring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

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It’s summer, and you’re more in love than ever. Mingyu’s made you rethink what it is to live in your cottage. He’s done everything in his power to make it your dream home, and his latest upgrade is a small rowboat that he’d handcrafted with the purpose of meandering around your pond.

You can’t stop smiling and giggling as Mingyu rows you around, the sunlight kissing his skin in the most beautiful way. He’s so gorgeous, and his soul is just as stunning.

Every day is a dream with him… but there are still things on your mind, things you need to discuss. 

“Mingyu?” you ask, drawing his attention away from his haphazard rowing.

“Yes, my star?” he pauses to look at you, setting down the oars to give you his complete, and undivided attention.

“I’m just… I’m thinking.”

“That’s not always the best sign,” Mingyu teases. “Thinking about what?”

“Just… we’ve been together a while now, and, I guess I’m starting to look at the future more, and I’m not really sure how to envision it.” 

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[the-tropes-are-hungry]

4 - The Cat Laughs

I don’t have a clue how long this Cat – Worm – Lamb pattern will hold considering the story I want to tell but for now it’s a good frame to work from. Have a cat in a hat with a spider and a squid.

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Shamura was never kind to him. It took him years to understand their concept of kindness was something else entirely.

A crown did as much as its bearer allowed, but the spider forbade him from using his to curb hunger, or stay sleep, or anything else truly useful.

“You are not yet grown, therefore have no true grasp of your abilities.”

“Then let me use them.”

They looked at him with their too many eyes and his vision fizzed. The shadows of thoughts, the web of impenetrable life woven around Shamura like their black and gold armor, the unflinching stare. Narinder was a predator in his own right, but they were something else.

Shamura was seated at the low table in their tent, discarded maps and the remaining bones of their dinner resting next to candle stubs. Narinder stood in the doorway where he’d burst in, and the spider remained perfectly still as they regarded him.

“Why?” they asked.

He stared at them, clutching his young anger.

“What do you mean, why? Because we’re fighting a war— because we’re losing one!”

Shamura watched him, listened to him, and answered with: “Our standing in this conflict is my burden, as our supplies are Kallamar’s, and growing is yours. Why should I let you use your crown when I do not believe you are ready?”

Ears back, his words keened past his fangs. “Because it’s mine.”

“It is yours,” the spider agreed, holding one long hand over their tea and calling the tiny ceramic cup into their grasp. “But that is not a reason to use it.”

“I don’t need a better reason.”

“You do, if you want my permission.”

“I don’t need your permission!”

“You do,” they squeezed the cup and his ears popped at the pressure change, black ears pressed to his skull and half-sheathed claws now soft against his palm. Shamura blinked slowly, one eye at a time from left to right, then right to left. “You do, if you want to leave my web alive.”

The entire camp was their web. Narinder had felt it after waking up the first time, sensed it without really knowing what about the ground upset his fur, why his whiskers twitched at every tent door and post, why his vision doubled and the stars moved too much at night.

He’d experienced it the first time one of Shamura’s soldiers, a beetle of all carapace and no sense, threw their meal on the ground and declared they’d had enough of rancid flesh and deserved something better.

The beetle had spasmed as, from everywhere and nowhere, silk threads snapped tight and pulled their limbs back before they could curl into a protective ball. Their glossy chitin didn’t mean anything as Shamura’s slow steps made the beetle’s heart quicken, then race, then thunder in Narinder’s ears. The spider had walked as slowly as possible to give every onlooker time to find a place to witness their judgment. One blue finger had trailed up from trembling thorax to mandibles, and the slender demigod rose up on six legs to tower over their prey.

“Very well,” they’d said, and a silk wire lopped the beetle’s head off. Several more tightened around still-squirming limbs until they detached. All Shamura visibly did was wave a dismissive hand at the wrist, and their web deposited the open body on the fire, belly up, for the camp cook to decorate with salt and herb and oil and simmer with his own armor acting as pot and pan to serve him.

It had been, Narinder hated to admit, one of the best meals they’d had since his arrival.

Shamura’s threads were already in his fur. They touched his wrists, his ankles, trailed against his black robe and irritated his whiskers. There was no tension in them, just the ghostly presence holding his chest and winding around his tail.

The spider sipped their tea.

“You are not yet grown, Narinder. I do not mean this metaphorically: your kind do not come of age until they are ten and six years old, but the males do not reach their true strength until twenty and eight. If you will not tell me why you must rely on your crown before you are ready, will you heed my reasons why you shall not?”

Shamura had already made up their mind and even the best reason in the world would not sway them. Still, to stop the growing pain in his throat and the burning in his eyes and the pressure in his nose, he bared his teeth again.

“When my mother taught me the sword, she gave me a sword to practice with.” The mere mention of her hurt. Speaking of her was like licking glass, or breathing fire, or being forever in this world without her. “I’m not saying let me fight the Green-Eyed Queen myself, but you’ve got to let me learn!”

Shamura nodded, but he swore the wisps of web grew thicker.

“The words you are looking for are, ‘I am afraid, and believe a better weapon will keep me safer.’”

They stood up, four legs moving sinuously beneath their black robe, four arms folded politely in pairs as they drifted across the tent toward him. One set of hands parted and they rested one cold palm against his bristled cheek. They had too many eyes and he never knew which ones to look at.

“If I clothed you in the strongest armor and then struck you one hundred times a day for one hundred days, it is true that you will stop fearing my blows and focus on hitting back. But if there is one day, not of your choosing, where I would make those hundred strikes on you without your armor, what would happen?”

His vision was blurring again, this time with frustration. His throat was growing tighter and it wasn’t Shamura’s silk. His chest and arms were trembling and the spider hadn’t struck him once.

“I would die.”

Shamura nodded, and released his face.

“That is why I will not let you use your crown to hold back sleep, because already you do not sleep enough. And I will not let your crown suppress your hunger, because you do not eat enough. And I will not let the crown make you stronger, or faster, or anything else you desire, because this weakness is born of things no crown can fix. You must train your mind. You must grieve your loss. You must let your body grow, child. Return to your duties.”

Duties. All Shamura had him do was practice symbols in wax and ink, and read the same marks off paper and metal. He was to learn the stars by different names, and the plants in their times and properties, and the many lands by their rulers and laws. Narinder’s duties were to grow his mind and eat hearty off the army’s stew pot, as if he were some kind of pet in the spider’s keeping.

He left with rage pulsing under his skin, humiliation turning his fur up as the silk whispers of the camp kept sticking to him, thickening around his ankles until he could almost see the strands. He sped up, all but ready to begin dashing past soldiers, and barracks, and cook fires and—

“There you are.”

His body stopped. A shimmering blue light encircled him and his muscles couldn’t move, his momentum halted. A webbed hand pressed warm to his shoulder before Kallamar’s spell vanished, and the third crown-bearer in this camp steered Narinder off his path between another set of random tents and tables, the squid’s long face pulled in an affable smile.

“Bold of you, to challenge Shamura directly,” he chittered. Narinder was only half-grown, but Kallamar was only just taller than him, too long, too nothing beneath his robes. “I can see how that went by the look on your face. No—don’t stop, be mad. Get it out. You can’t close a wound with the knife still inside.”

“What do you want?” Narinder asked, teeth clenched, whiskers flared as he kept walking and Kallamar kept pushing.

“To stop you from ending up on a spit,” he said. “Shamura is unkind, but rarely unreasonable. Come, running off will get you in trouble, but I’ve prepared something for you.”

Shamura and Kallamar had journeyed together for two years now, amassing followers and striking out at the Green-Eyed Queen’s champions: the Seven Toed Oak, the Marble Tongue of Dawn, and Ashblight. Shamura’s real target was the Wrath-Bringer, for their own reasons. Kallamar had come from the white waters of the Serpent, and beyond Shamura’s trust in him that was all Narinder knew.

Most of the followers in this camp were the spider’s. Kallamar’s followers were weepy-eyed creatures that hissed at the sun and plied their master with even more miserable gurgles than what Kallamar paid the spider.

There was something the Green-Eyed Queen possessed that Shamura wanted before taking their campaign elsewhere.

The mobility of Shamura’s forces was crucial, as staying overlong in any one place cleared the trees, dirtied the water, and ate the land barren. Never-mind counter attacks from the Queen’s champions.

Narinder had been with them a month. During the four battles this army of two hundred followers had fought he’d sat at Shamura’s heels with clean claws and sheathed blades and a leash short enough to call a belt-loop. Every time he saw Kallamar, the Serpent’s exiled son was either flustered with the logistics of keeping this army fed, or impatiently keening at Shamura to send Narinder out of earshot so they could speak.

The cat and the squid had never been alone together before now.

“Hurry up! Hurry up! I think you’ll hate this until you learn to love it.”

Narinder’s tail kept lashing. “You have the worst way of saying things.”

“Do you know what’s more fun than having a shard of the Serpent’s power sitting on my head?” Kallamar asked, the membrane of their face bubbling with their words as they tapped their crown.

“Leaving me alone?”

“Having my own power to wield as I like.”

Kallamar brought him to a freshly cleared bit of forest at the edge of the encampment. Fresh stumps littered the ground like boils, sweet sap still bleeding from the saw-marks. The squid kept giggling to himself, but trying to hide it with his mouth closed. The hrm! Hrm-hrmhrm!! Was enough to make Narinder’s claws itch. He’d never eaten squid before.

“First! An exercise I’m sure you’ve done before!” Kallamar wiggled his way forward and called back to him. He shook out his robe sleeves, getting shorter and squatter as his upsettingly fluid physiology squirmed around under his bipedal guise. With a delighted gurgle, he rose up and spread three tentacles from each sleeve, raising his new arms up with a flash of white.

Ten liquid bubbles gathered from the sap and soil, hovering over the stumps. “Ten seconds to destroy them all! Have at ye, young demigod!”

Narinder stared. “What?”

“Ten! Nine!”

Oh, he meant it.

Narinder’s reflexes were sharp, his legs always half-wound springs that sent him flying at the first bubble with claws out. Its skin was tougher than expected and his lead claw curled past it, but the dew claw on his smallest finger snagged it right and tore the bubble open.

A grotesque sploosh of half-warm-too-cold gelatine that sluiced down his leg and stayed there.

“What is this!?” Narinder shrieked, his voice splitting like hairs as his tail bristled.

“Six!! Five!”

He spun with three darts in hand that burst three bubbles, and vaulted another log with a hand at his sword to tear another. That made five, with only—

“Three! Two!!”

“Kallamar!” he roared back, his sword coated in the same blue ick as his robe and hand.

“Ding-ding-ding!! You lose!” The squid trumpeted, throwing his head back with laughter.

Lost? He’d lost? Narinder never lost anything. He never failed anything.  He couldn’t lose a game like this—one of speed and reflexes and sharpness, no!

“Again!” he shouted.

The laughing stopped. “Again?”

“Start it again!” He stomped his foot, sword dripping, his leg and hand so cold they felt numb.

“Hmm!” the squid put four hands to his wide chin, pouting. “Maybe! But I want my prize for winning first.”

Narinder stiffened, ears swivelling, weight on his toes. “What prize?”

Kallamar’s face split with far too many teeth at far too many angles. Narinder was a predator in his own right, a killer and a hunter, but his fur went rigid at the sight.

“Here, kitty-kitty, dodge this!”

The first unpopped bubble sailed straight at him. Narinder twisted with a yelp, but another crashed the back of his head and erupted with cold slime down his shoulders. He screamed. It didn���t hurt—it was cold and slick and horrible but it didn’t burn or bind or harm him, and the lack of danger made his screaming worse when he took two steps and was slammed at the knees by another bubble that took out his legs.

The last two pelted his back, one and then the other, and left him in an inch-deep puddle of viscous blue slime.

He pushed his face up, spitting, the fur on his cheeks dragging down long, his whiskers coated so thick he could barely breathe, his ears dulled with gelatine.

He was so fucking cold.

Kallamar was laughing to the cloudy sky overhead, the drip-drip of his tentacles slithering over the trampled grass.

“Oh! What fun, your poor face!” he cackled, wiping one webbed hand under his eyes to stop the tears.

Narinder bared his fangs, felt the cold slick trickle into his nose, and sneezed so violently his back arched.

Kallamar doubled over, wheezing, his eyes bulging in delight.

Narinder was cold, he was embarrassed, he was sopping wet. He was a month without his mother and denied his own power. He was stuck in a puddle of slime on a bright spring day with the sun parting the overcast sky and birds were singing and Kallamar was laughing and they were too far away from the edge of camp for anyone to see or hear them.

Narinder grabbed the tentacle that counted as Kallamar’s ‘foot’and yanked it. The squid yelped and tumbled down in a glorp. Before he could think twice or Kallamar could get away, Narinder slapped a handful of muddy slime in the other demigod’s mouth.

The sound Kallamar made was worth the laughter that burst out of Narinder. His goopy tail coiled around his bent legs as the alien sound scared his ears back and he reigned it in quickly, afraid of—just afraid.

Of Shamura? Of dying? Of the Green-Eyed Queen? Yes.

As quickly as he’d laughed, tears cut through the frigid slime, like embers down his cheeks.

His mouth trembled, spit and slime on his lips. He couldn’t breathe.

He would never see Mother again. She would not groom this ick off his fur, or run her claws over his ears, or warm him with her purr. Her tail would never twine with his, and she would not pick up his blade and hand it back, and she would not be with him, and she would not come back.

And Narinder was her Lord of Lords but he was twelve years old and frightened and alone and he had never been frightened and he had never been alone and he had never had to decide what to do and he had never been told what he could not do and—

“Me too.”

Narinder was sitting in this puddle sobbing like a kitten, and he couldn’t close his mouth or stop the sounds or the tears from hiccupping out of him. When Narinder looked at Kallamar, he expected everything except the broken hinge of the squid’s mouth, or the thick-rolling green slime that counted as his tears.

“I miss everything too,” he said. “Everything from before… this.”

“W-what happened?” one lost little boy asked the other.

“The Serpent was afraid of something,” Kallamar explained, his own tears rolling into his mouth. “They called everyone in to their temple, but I got caught in the tide pool that morning and couldn’t answer the gong. I watched the waves turn red, and the sea boiled, and then everything went dark. By the time I got out there was nothing left at the seabed, just this—this hole. Like a storm beneath the sea. Everything was gone. The coral, the vents, the sand, the kelp. Just dark water too scary to swim through, so I didn’t. They’re still down there, I think. They keep pulling everything inside, and Shamura thinks one day they’ll swallow the whole world.”

And that, two small children in two large crowns decided, was too much for them to think about.

They cried until they couldn’t cry anymore. This left Narinder only wet and too cold, and Kallamar dry and too hot, so when the cat scraped one hand down his slimy sleeve he smeared it on the squid’s ugly face.

This made Kallamar laugh.

“Here,” he said, taking Narinder’s hand in two of his. “Let me show you what I brought you out here for.”

It was a spell. A little mote of magical light between his tentacles that drew the wet ick from the fur and fabric down his arm. He wasn’t quite clean, but he wasn’t wet either.

“Now you try. But not with this,” he pointed at the crown. “Just this.”

He tapped Narinder’s forehead, where the fizziness and shadows and double-vision kept coming from.

“This is where your magic will manifest. It means you aren’t like other cats, so even without your crown you’re still something different, something else.”

“What else?”

Kallamar shrugged. “Whatever Shamura and I are. Demigods, they say.”

They practiced the spell together. It was finicky, but only difficult until Kallamar talked him through the noise in his own mind. They pulled the slime off his fur and ears and tail and clothes, and with the last of it the squid gurgled shyly in his throat.

“There was one other thing,”

“You have more one other things than you do arms.”

“No, this is actually it,” he bubbled. “You’re something else. You’re something between Shamura and I. You see, their body is hard and spiny on the outside, protected even without the armor they wear. Then there’s you, who grows your bones inside your body with the soft parts outside—which is bad design, really. You’re very poorly made.”

Narinder showed his teeth. He flexed his claws too. “As poorly made as a bag of water?”

Kallamar held up another bubble of slime. “I’m not afraid to use this.”

The cat relented.

“My point is,” Kallamar continued, holding the bubble in their lap and slowly running their tendrils over and around it, peeling off slime to slick themselves after sitting so long on the prickly grass beneath the blazing sun. “Neither of us can fight like Shamura. But you don’t have your own magic, and I don’t… Well, I know lots of magic. I know spells, and enchantments, and incantations, and charms, and curses. And you…”

Narinder followed the squid’s eyes this time, and snatched up Mother’s sword from beside him.

“No,” he said.

Kallamar quickly folded himself on his ‘knees’, leaning forward. “I don’t mean give me your sword, just practice! Or your knives? I saw you practicing with a rope dart the other day and it was so fast! Imagine if you could sling spells the same way, and I could carry a sword—or a staff. Can you use a spear?”

This felt… not allowed. It felt like breaking one of Shamura’s rules. Kallamar had real duties to the war, counting food and provisioning armor and setting up where tents could go and tables set up.

But Mother had always protected him, and Narinder had never had someone boldly ask him about what she’d taught him. “I… can?”

“What about a javelin?” Kallamar asked, eyes now alight. “A glaive? Shamura has a glaive, you’ve seen it, with the gold blade and obsidian handle?”

“I have.” He had. And he’d also seen… “…their sickle chain is faster than my rope dart.”

“It is!”

On that day, two boys made a pact with each other. The older would teach the younger magic, and the younger would teach the older weapons. Through their web the spider heard all of this, even the part where they struck a bet to see who would get to hold their glaive first. It made them smile.

To Shamura’s surprise, it was Kallamar who won the bet.

Surprise became wonder, as Narinder’s Third Eye opened right as his oath-brother raised the gold blade.

Somehow, both these achievements mattered more to the Demigod of Victory than the fact that they had just been split open, mandible to abdomen, by Champion Ashblight.

“Shamura?!”

“Shamura!!”

It was a good day to die.

[First] / [Prev] / [Next]

:)

I HC Kallamar is like 15/16 at this point.

[dailycharacteroption]

Races Among the Stars 6: Formian

Longtime competitors with the lashunta, today we are looking at a people that were once in the bestiary of Pathfinder, but now have a playable option!

Formians are a species of ant-like people with potent psychic abilities, which actually have their gaming origins in the earliest days of D&D. Back then, they were outsiders and denizens of the lawful neutral (bordering good) plane of Arcadia, where they acted communally but still gave their citizens free will. (this varied somewhat between editions, of course, with 3.x reframing them as being willing to enslave other species with psychic domination to supplement their workforce.

In any case, the formians of Pathfinder and Starfinder have a new look and are now entirely mortal.

In the distant past of Pathfinder, individual colonies warred with each other and with the lashunta. However, in the far future of Starfinder, formians on Castrovel, and indeed the wider galaxy, have mostly united under a single unified front, and even quelled their rivalry with the lashunta thanks to the intervention of shirren diplomats who were able to convince the formians that constant wars for expansion were untenable and did not serve the greater good of the hive.

And it is indeed the greater good that most formians strive for, each member serving the whole unquestioningly much like the ants they resemble. However, rather than being slaves to their own social structure, the formians look after their own, seeing to their medical care, happiness, and well-being, even if that well-being brings them to leave the hive.

As we will elaborate on further, the formians are interesting in that they clearly are working off deep-ingrained and useful instincts, but also benefit from the creativity and capacity to try new lines of thinking that can only come from true sapience. Ironically, they are perhaps even more capable of changing their ways than species and cultures with more individualistic denizens. If a new line of making makes sense and disproves the old one, they pursue it with uncanny uniformity.

 While they are sometimes described as being “ant-centaurs”, that descriptor doesn’t quite do them justice. Certainly they have a similar body plan, what with having four legs and two arms, but the long, slender formian legs are placed tighter together along with an abdomen that mostly hangs under the thorax, making this insectile species much more vertically aligned than one would expect from anything described as centaur-like.

They also don’t quite have the same facial profile as one would expect from an ant, having two forward-facing compound eyes as well as a trio of simpler eyes on the forehead. What’s more, their mandibles are more concealed than that of an ant. Workers also sport large storage glands on their backs, while warriors and greater castes sport a more spikey, armored carapace, all the way up to their queens, who sport powerful armored abdomens and sometimes even vestigial wings from their youth. Many formians decorate their carapaces with complex etched designs of various meanings as well.

 As mentioned previously, the formians live in an ordered society where each caste member fulfills their role, willing to sacrifice everything to ensure the survival and prosperity of their people. However, they are also a people that treats these individuals are an important part of the whole, allowing for freedom of expression (though preferably in a productive way), and even exiting the collective, such as hearing “the call”, an imperative to leave their colony to seek new meaning. Some use this to establish new colonies, while others seek new wonders for the hive, and so on.

Others don’t feel a call, but instead find no instinct to serve the hive as others do. In the past, such individuals were treated as mentally ill or defective, but thanks to the efforts of shirren allies, these deviants are treated with greater respect and given the opportunity to adapt to individualistic life elsewhere.

 The playable formian stats, which can represent a worker, warrior, or other formian caste without special innate powers, are strong and tough, but are often lacking in insight, preferring to leave that to their leaders or those they look up to for guidance.

Adapted to tunnel life, they have both excellent nightvision and a keen sense of smell.

They also exhibit limited telepathy much like their lashunta neighbors.

While not quite as strong as their ancient past, formians sport strong jaws and claws which they can use in a pinch.

The composition of their carapace also makes them resistant to extreme sonic frequencies as well.

 Some formians, however, are alates, reproductively viable individuals that will become queens or their consorts. These individuals lack the strong natural weapons or the resilient carapace of their kin, but sport functional wings!

 With their strength and toughness, formians are well-suited to combat classes like soldier, solarian, nanocyte, and vanguard. However, they can also be strong operatives that can weather harsh outdoor conditions. Their lack of insight but no penalty to intellect means they probably favor studious biohackers, while they probably favor either exocortex mechanics or a drone or other alternate device that suits the role they with to play. Evolutionist could be interesting for one seeking to use their own bodies to find a way to improve all formians, or perhaps rare individualists seeking a personal path to perfection. While some tread the path of a spellcaster, they find some difficulty with the magus class, though those that do stand tall among the precogs, technomancers, and witchwarpers among them.

 That about does it for today, but I hope you can see that the formians, despite the seeming conformity and focus on the bigger picture, are much more than mindless, hive-minded automatons serving tyrannical queens.

[wuxiaphoenix]

Worldbuilding: People Like Us

I was watching an episode of Unfettered Shogun, many of whose episodes can be found here on Archive.org. And it struck me how many tropes we think of as modern were here in 1700s guise. Traveling entertainers who are actually seeking information on the whereabouts of someone who “mysteriously disappeared”. Said lost at sea guys actually being the kidnapped experts who created the Secret Formula! (How to make expensive white sugar from local brown sugar.) A dogged investigator tracking down details that indicate Foul Play has occurred. There was even a case of “impersonate the chauffeur”; a ninja knocked out a boatman and took over poling so he could listen in on the Evil Plotting.

It had, in short, everything you might want out of a heist or detective show. Just in Tokugawa Japan, with swordfights instead of a shootout.

And that’s the way stories should be. The setting and cultures may change, but whatever your story, people are still people. Ancient Egyptians tried baldness cures. Victorians had nipple piercings. I have no doubt that colonists in the next solar system we get to will be checking the news flimsies for the latest 3D vid star gossip, border skirmishes between Mars and the Belt, and their lucky numbers.

I think this gets lost in a lot of fantasy and SF. On the one hand, fair; if you’re writing a Heroic Story you may not want to get bogged down in all the petty details of people keeping up with the Joneses. (Or the Rameses.) On the other hand....

“The Fate of the World is At Stake!” only gets you so far. You can tell one, maybe a couple Grand Stories that way. And they can be great stories! Who doesn’t love Star Wars, or ID4?

But if you want to make a long series with recurring characters, the kind readers and viewers know they can kick back with again and again... you may want more human-scale problems. Jewel thefts. A family get-together that has to go right; or at least not so wrong the fire department’s called in. Illegally imported bunnies.

(That last is how A Swift Kick to the Thorax starts. Sample looks good; plan to get the book when I can.)

People love stories larger than life. But they also love seeing people like them - maybe a little prettier, maybe a little luckier - come up against the most annoying of life’s problems and find some kind of solution. Whether that solution is getting swept off your feet by a noble alien warlord or setting the boss’ car on fire is up to you.

I personally have a taste for “rewarding good and punishing evil”, which is clearly seen in Unfettered Shogun. But I’m also good with Zankuro, another jidaigeki where the low-ranking samurai so named scrapes out an unconventional living a la Harry Dresden or Jim Rockford, never able to do more than break even when the next bill comes due. But he has friends, and at least he does manage to break even. We should all be that lucky.

Make your worlds fantastic. Make your stories awesome. But never forget your characters are people. And when you deal with people, with all their drama and weirdness... you never know what might happen next!

[the-rhyme-witch]

Hey, hey, Milky Way! You've tuned into Senate Translate. You can call me Deniscuit. It isn't my name, but if we get caught on intergalactic naming we could be here all day and the universal translators we've got stuck to our thoraxes will burn out into the bargain! So, I'm Deniscuit and I'm here today to explain the trial currently occuring in the senate this rotation for our lingo-audio intergalactic audience.

Today's trial, planet dwellers, is following up from our recent coverage of the inexplicable crusade of the people of Earth. For those of you who don't know, Earth is a water based, G-type main sequence star orbiting planet way way out in Orian-Cygnus. The dominant terrestrial species peopling that planet are humans, which have been causing a lot of trouble on the intergalactic stage- wait what?

...

....Ok, listeners, our producer Sickxpaeln has informed me we need some background, hang on....

Ok. So, humans are pretty weird, but we none of us can help how we are made. They keep their squishiest bits on the outside and they focus a lot of their senses into one area called the head. Though they have four limbs, they get around by a series of controlled falls from one limb to another. So, they are pretty unusual! Evolution in these backwater galaxies is niche, amirite?

They aren't a psychic species but they have evolved to get around this. It is pretty crazy! They have multiple systems of markings they can make, shapes they can make, noises they can make and even smells they can make and they have developed a complicated language. They also -and this is pretty unique to this people -have a strong emphasis on individual hallucinations because they have developed what some in the galaxy are calling "inner minds" to interpret the information their senses give them and fill in the blanks. That's right, this species lives in a constant state of personal hallucinations! It's almost unbelievable! And what is more amazing is that they use their communication methods not only to describe their inner minds to others of their species but to pass them on, almost like a hallucinatory virus.

Which brings us to the senate today. Humanity has been waging a vicious war on other planets and has left a swathe of destruction in their wake. They have informed the Galactic Senate that they are "freeing the slave planets".

Now for this, we wanted to get Local Fluff Interstellar Cloud linguistics expert 01001100 01101001 01101110 01100111 01110101 01101001 01110011 01110100 to speak. They are caught up with the trial but have sent the following noise sequence (those on solar manuals, turn your translator dial to binary)

"The origin of this problem lies in the human approach to life but specifically in this case a word called "slave". Humans as a species have a range of dialects so vast over their origin planet that they cannot often understand eachother but many have this word "slave", such as "dorei" or "shklaf" or "taurekareka", and the meaning is typically a being considered people owned by another being considered people in a way that forces the slave to do the bidding of the owner".

So, as you can hear, listeners, this is a very specific concept. Humanity as a whole considers slavery to be a negative thing and to understand this we need to remember their constant state of individual hallucination. When an individual becomes fixated on their own internal hallucination as truth, we call that a belief. When these beliefs are spread to others within the species they form specific categories of group hallucinatory agreement, which our speaker splits into terms called "religion" and "law" and "economics". Now, many planets have their concept of law so I will not over explain, but to understand the core of this problem, in human society, value is perceived often as separate from true requirements of life. Human societies have affixed value to tokens made of metals and dessicated plant based life forms and will willingly spread suffering for these inedible and impractical tokens.

Which brings us to the crusade of the humans. Humans are dangerously territorial and can be possessive of items, territory and even lifeforms. In human history, it has been known that individuals would aggressively subdue others of their own species, assign them value according to the group hallucinatory agreement of token value and then cause suffering to these individuals of their own species, taking their autonomy!

It is a hard concept, listeners. They consider the victims of this aggression and suffering slaves.

The crux of the problem has been that humans as individual units can function appropriately but their altruistic tendancies appear unable to function in groups. Studies have suggested that such individualistic species suffer when faced with large social gatherings because behavioural props they use in normal life are gone. Isn't that interesting? This has meant that humans have struggled to understand symbiotic interplanetary relationships, such as CricxLichon and Fehs interstellar interactions, and have instead imposed their own concepts on it. Altruism for this species appears unfathomable on such a large scale and they have named it slavery and attacked what they perceive to be the aggressive planets in life-ending atrocities rarely seen-

-oh! Wait! We have news from the trial! It seems a group of humans have begun arguing with others of their own species! They cannot agree!

Stay tuned, listeners, for what is shaping up to be a bizarre blip in galactic history!

After a long and bloody war Humanity stands before the galactic senate on trial for committing one of their worst war crimes: Freeing slave worlds.

[xasha777]

In the heart of the bustling metropolis of Neo-Pollinata, where buildings scraped the skies and neon lights replaced stars, there was a unique corporate hive buzzing with activity. The drone of keyboards was the symphony of progress, and in the midst of it all, there stood an extraordinary figure — Mr. Buzzley, the bee-human hybrid, renowned as the CEO of HoneySolutions Inc., a company that led the way in biotechnological advances.

Mr. Buzzley was no ordinary leader. His eyes, as deep and reflective as pools of midnight oil, saw through the company's data like a predator spots its prey. He wore a suit tailored from the finest materials that the new world provided, a fusion of spider silk and synthetic fibers. His hands, though rough and bearing the textured skin of his apian ancestry, moved with a surprising gentility that belied their appearance.

HoneySolutions Inc. had achieved a breakthrough that was about to revolutionize the world: a Density Gradient Fluid that could alter the weight and density of objects with just a simple application. This fluid had the potential to change transportation, construction, and even space travel. But the secret to its success was not just in its science — it was in its source, a rare flower that bloomed once every decade, pollinated only by a specific species of genetically modified superbees.

These bees were Mr. Buzzley's kin, created from the same gene-splicing technology that had given him life. They had a symbiotic relationship with the company, and Mr. Buzzley was their guardian and their voice. Under his leadership, the bees thrived, the company prospered, and the world stood on the cusp of a new era.

On the morning that changed everything, Mr. Buzzley strolled through the hive of cubicles, his antennae picking up the subtle shifts in the air, the faint electrical charge of innovation at work. He stopped at a large glass wall, peering into the lab where the Density Gradient Fluid was being refined.

There, in a tank of swirling iridescence, floated objects of varying densities, from feather-light alloys to dense metals that now bobbed like apples in water. It was a dance of potential, a visual symphony of science and nature blended into one. Mr. Buzzley's thorax vibrated with a hum of approval, a sound that resonated with the workers, encouraging their diligence and sparking their creativity.

But success breeds envy and danger. A rival corporation, led by the enigmatic Dr. Xenon, sought to claim the Density Gradient Fluid for their own. They planned to use it for less altruistic means — to weaponize it, to control markets, to manipulate the balance of power. And they knew that the key to their ambitions lay in capturing the superbees that pollinated the miraculous flowers.

The day the rival drones attacked was a day of chaos. The skies darkened with their sleek forms, and the air filled with the electric whine of their wings. Mr. Buzzley was ready. He rallied his workers, not just those in suits, but the winged guardians of his lineage. It was a battle that raged amongst the clouds, a flurry of stingers and lasers, a cacophony of human shouts and insectoid war cries.

As Mr. Buzzley fought, he realized that the world he existed in was a fragile construct, as delicate as the wings that carried him. He understood that the future was not in dominating nature or technology but in harmonizing them. With a final, determined effort, he led his kin in a counterstrike that would turn the tide.

The battle ended with the setting of the sun, the rival drones retreating like shadows at the approach of light. And as Mr. Buzzley stood amongst his colleagues and kin, a hero not just of HoneySolutions Inc. but of a balance between worlds, he knew that their work was just beginning.

For in the end, the Density Gradient Fluid was more than a scientific marvel — it was a message, a reminder that the universe was vast, variable, and ever-changing. And it would take all kinds — human, bee, and everything in between — to navigate the complexities of the future.

[talonabraxas]

The Heptagram of the Seven DaysThe Heptagram of the Seven days is a particularly interesting way to view the order of the celestial bodies. If reading clockwise from the top-most symbol, it is the order of the planets from the Geo-centric Qabalistic model: Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Sol, Venus, Mercury, Luna. If read following the lines of the Heptagram, one gets the days of the week: Saturday (Saturn’s Day), Sunday (Sun’s Day), Monday (Moon’s Day), Tuesday (Tiw’s Day, Norse War God), Wednesday (Wodin’s Day), Thursday (Thor’s Day), Friday (Frigga’s Day, Norse Love God.) Crowley attributes this realization to Frater Deo Duce Comite Ferro, S.L. MacGregor Mathers. This is one of two different kinds of Heptagrams. This version is known as 7/3 Heptagram, as each line connects the planet that is three planets away. The other version of the Heptagram is called a 7/2 Heptagram, and is used for the Seal of A∴A∴. DANCE OF THE SEVEN VEILS “The seven spheres attached to the seven planets symbolize seven principles, seven different states of matter and spirit, seven different worlds which each man and each humanity must pass through in their evolution across a solar system.” – The Wisdom of Egypt7 the sum of my name YOSRA HARZALLAH7 Daughters of Atlas7 Stages of Alchemy - Calcination, Dissolution, Separation, Conjunction, Fermentation, Distillation, Coagulation.7 Hermetic principles - Mentalism, Correspondence, Vibration, Polarity, Rhythm, Cause and Effect, Gender.7 Notes of the musical scale.7 Systems of Symbolism - numbers, geometrical figures, letters, words, magic, alchemy, astrology.7 Rays of Light - Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Purple, Violet.7 Planets of Antiquity - Moon, Mercury, Venus, Sun, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn.7 Churches of Asia Minor7 Personality Types - Lunar, Mercurial, Venusian, Solar, Martial, Jovial, Saturnine.7 Days of Week - Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday.7 Arch Angels - Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, Chamuel, Jophiel, and Zadkiel.7 Metals of Antiquity - Lead, Tin, Iron, Copper, Mercury, Silver, Gold.7 Chakras - Muladhara, Svadhisthana, Manipura, Anahata, Vishuddha, Ajna, Sahasrara.7 Emotive Spheres of Kabbalah7 Seals.7 Root Races, each with 7 sub-races7 Days of Creation7 Virtues - Faith, Hope, Charity, Fortitude, Justice, Prudence, Temperance.7 Vices - Pride, Envy, Anger, Sloth/dejection, Avarice, Gluttony, Lust.7 Stages of Man - the infant, the school-boy, the lover, the soldier, the judge, the elderly man, the senile one.7 Liberal Arts - grammar, rhetoric, logic, arithmetic, music, geometry, and astronomy - the first three in the Trivium, the latter four in the Quadrivium.7 Wonders of the Ancient World - Pyramids of Egypt, Hanging Gardens of Babylon, Statue of Zeus at Olympia, Temple of Artemis at Ephesus, Mausoleum of King Mausolus at Halicarnassus, Colossus of Rhodes, Pharos Lighthouse at Alexandria.7 Headed Hydra7 Headed Lion7 Headed Dragon7 Headed Serpent7 Seas - Arctic, Antarctic, North and South Pacific, North and South Atlantic and the Indian Ocean.7 Continents - North America, South America, Africa, Europe, Asia, Australia and Antarctica.7 Seven Sisters of the Pleiades star system.7 Parts to the embryo - Amnion, Chorionic Villi, Spinal Cord, Heart, Brain, Umbilical Cord, Yolk Sac.7 Parts of the body - Head, Thorax, Abdomen, Two Arms, Two Legs.7 Major Organs - Brain, Heart, Lungs, Stomach, Intestines, Liver, and Pancreas.7 Glands - Pineal, Pituitary, Thyroid, Thymus, Adrenal, Lyden and Gonad.7 Divisions to the brain - Cerebrum, Cerebellum, Pons Varolii, Medulla Oblongatta, Corpus Callosum, Spinal Cord, Meninges.7 Parts to the inner ear - Vestibule, Auditory Canal, Tympanic Membrane, Ossicles, Semi-circular Canal, Cochlea, Membranous Labyrinth.7 Parts to the retina - Cornea, Aqueous Humor, Lens, Vitreous Humor, Retina, Sclera, Iris.7 Cavities to the heart - Right and Left Ventricle, Right and Left Atrium, Tricuspid Valve, Mitral Valve, Septum.7 Body systems - Muscular, Skeletal, Nervous, Digestive, Respiratory, Excretory, Circulatory.7 Bodily functions - Respiration, Circulation, Assimilation, Excretion, Reproduction, Sensation, Reaction.7 Levels in the Periodic Table of the Elements.…and, of course, the 7 Dwarfs.“The Principles of Truth are Seven; he who knows these, understandingly, possesses the Magic Key before whose touch all the Doors of the Temple fly open.” –The Kybalion“And God created seven Heavens and seven Earths, and through them all, descends His Command.” – scriptural translation

[forestthechonkykitty]

Hmm well let’s see how many fandoms I’ve got…

1) Tanz der Vampire- Graf von Krolock

2) My Little Pony- Thorax or Daybreaker- I’m torn 😭

3) Bleach TYBW- As Nödt

4) Les Mis- Javert. Enough said.

5) Harry Potter- Minerva McGonagall

6) Frankenstein (the ballet)- FRANKENSTEIN ON POINTE

7) Death Note- L

8) Star Wars- Han Solo

9) Dracula- QUINCEY MORRIS

10) Shrek- Shrek

Tagging (no pressure!) @mamasvamp @hollowwraith @mangledpuppet @harrissun

10 characters, 10 fandoms

Rules: list your favorite character from ten separate fandoms, then tag 10 people.

Thanks go to @nists for tagging me.

Star Trek- Data

Alien(s)- Bishop

The Eternal Champion- Elric

Ghost- Cardinal Copia/Papa IV

Detroit: Become Human- RK900

Murderbot- Murderbot

Beetlejuice- Beetlejuice

Aeon Flux- Aeon

Hellsing- Alucard

Space Odyssey series- Dave Bowman (as the star child/disembodied consciousness)

If you haven't already done this, please consider yourself tagged. I am tagging you.

[porlovistoeinmasochist]

I have been having fun all in all with the series, it has given me more of Anakin/Vader which is really all I want of Star Wars. And this episode was amazing in that regard, it gave us more of the fact that Anakin is Vader, Vader is Anakin. How the flashback cuts to Vader, its Vader remembering Anakin waiting for Obi Wan to do a training duel, those are Vaders memories. The guy ruminating about all of Anakins memories, as Vader. I loved that!

Also they are giving us true Eldritch Abomination Anakin, Vader, just bringing down the ship and ripping it apart. Yes! That is the cosmic horror, the nightmare of the galaxy, an actual offspring of the force. I was sooooooo afraid, because before watching I saw some spoilers, and my One (1) fear is a watered down Vader, the fun of this guy is that he is the worst with god like powers, just rampaging and doing evil with forces nobody comprehends, while staying enslaved, to the guy who is evil incarnate, through the power of apathy, guilt and self loathing. So I was cheering him on! Look at my rampaging guy go! Allow him to go batshit crazy!

And the duel, him just playing with his food! No effort on his part, just perfection! But here is where my griping starts: whyyyyyy didn’t he kill Reva?….besides her having now plot armor….just snap her neck, cut off her head, anything, he is normally so efficient in disposing of people. The falshy burning and then letting escape stick is reserved for his special obsession of obi wan. But if this would have been XY employee of him he would have killed her. I know he is trapped inside a mobile torture device and is just apathy in person, full of rage, pain, guilt and self loathing, but if he excels at ONE thing it’s freaking MURDER. So letting her live makes so no sense….

And not only him, but the Grand Inquisitor, who is alive, because why not, will it be explained how he survived a lightsaber through his thorax? He also just taunts….and lets her alive…and its just the absurd trope of ‘evil guys are dumb’ that just….meh.

[urktheturtle]

The end of this project is within sight, there are only two clans left after this one... The Singing Mountain Clan, and the Nightsisters. Warning, lots of fanon ahead. So today, we have the very important Spiderclan. The most reviled and hated clan on Dathomir, hated by all other clans. They splintered off the Nightsisters relatively recently, and follow the book of Shadows, but there tradtions are "all messed up" to put it mildly. The witches of the Spider-clan are called the Nightspiders, and the leader of the caln is called The Queen Mother and is a giant spider that they believe is a manifestation of the Ur-spirit of spiders. In actuality, their leader is a nightspider which who claims to "speak" for the Queen Mother. It is generally understood that this tradition is connected to the tradition of the nightsister worship of The Sleeper as an Ur-spirit of aquatic life. The Spiderclan has also taken to domesticating giant spiders found on dathomir, such as the Kiin'dray (literal translation "gaping spider") and the Baneback Spider. After the Nightssiter Genocide, the Spiderclan was the first target of the Nightsisters. With the remaining nightsisters raiding their clan and stealing children in the night. In terms of design, i based the Spider-clans tattoos on spider thorax markings, I based the male ones markings on an Orb Weaver, and the female characters markings on a generic spider I found, and the Star Wars Galaxies trading card game art. The man is Weathur, and the woman is Korse. Why these names? I dont know. Unlike the last few, these two are not dating, they are in fact... bitter Ex's, who cannot stay out of each others business and despite their best judgement keep waking up in the same bed together.

[ryqoshay]

Unstable World: Attack on Prism

Flagship: EmmaKanaKarin Also Starring: Setsuna, Ai, Rina Rating: T Words: 584 AU: A war-torn dimension other than our own Time Frame: Sometime before the main story Event: Promptober 2022 Event Source: Idol Fanfic Heaven channel on Discord Prompt: Carapace

---------

Author’s Note: Bonus 2nd entry for Oct 28th

Summary: General Emma heads to Prism to defend the city from invasion

---------

“General Verde!” A corporal burst onto the bridge. “Reports coming in of rifts appearing near Prism City.”

Karin sneered. Had the Paragon discovered Rina’s new lab? She glanced over to see concern on Emma’s face, as she was liking thinking something similar.

“All hands!” Emma called. “Prepare for maglev transit to Prism City!” She then turned to Lieutenant General near her and asked in a softer voice, “Karin-chan, would you mind waking Kanata-chan?”

“Of course.” Karin nodded.

A tense half hour later, the Montagna and its battalion of smaller tanks arrived to find a city under siege. Prism’s defenses, with aid from Setsuna's Firestorm Chasers, appeared to be holding against the usual Paragon ground forces. However…

“What are those?” Kanata asked, popping her head out of the hatch of the Dream Buster.

“Bug… tanks?” Karin replied from the Vivid Striker.

Amid the rear ranks of the Paragon forces, behemoth creatures scuttled about, not on treads or wheels, but on giant legs. Tank-like turrets were mounted into the backs of some that could pass as ants, while the horns of… what were they called again? rhinoceros beetles? had been reconstructed as giant artillery cannons. And, skittering through toward the forward ranks were what appeared to be huge centipedes.

As if giant airborne sea creatures cursed into servitude as airships weren't enough. Karin thought to herself. Now they've found some giant bug world to raid?

“The cavalry has arrived!” Setsuna cheered, swooping low to hover between Kanata and Karin's tanks. “Ai-san and I have been having trouble with these big bugs. They seem to have ablative carapaces that are resistant to our plasma.”

“And despite their size, they seem pretty good at dodging Rinari's artillery.” Ai added over the comm, still engaging the enemy.

“Then we will have to see how they like Vesuvius.” Emma responded from the bridge of the Montagna. “Evergreen Battalion! Advance!”

The tanks tread forward. Kanata and Karin broke off with their squadrons to deal with the ant tank and centipede things while Emma directed the rest toward the beetle artillery units.

“Kanata-chan’s gonna squish you!” The brigade’s other Lieutenant General drawled as the Dream Buster rammed through the middle of a centipede.

Ablative armor or no, the creature crumpled with the force of the blow, earning cheers from nearby Prism troops. More cheers responded to the Vivid Striker firing point blank into the head of an ant, blasting straight through to its thorax and causing an explosion within.

Now it’s Emma’s turn. Karin swiveled her position to watch.

Sure enough, the Vesuvius canon was already glowing. Then, with a titanic rumble, molten lava sprayed the nearest beetle.

Well, it wasn’t actually lava, rather a lava-like substance invented by Rina that could be superheated beyond the normal range of the real volcanic stuff. Or something like that, Karin didn’t understand the specifics. But it also stuck to surfaces better than napalm, allowing it to melt through darn near anything. Even Paragon enhanced ablative giant insect carapaces.

The tides of battle had turned. More troops poured out of Prism, leaving their defensive positions to go on the offensive. In less time than it took to traverse the distance to the city, the Evergreen Battalion eliminated the invading Paragon.

“Thank you, Emma-san, Kanata-san, Karin-san.” Rina’s voice came over the comm as the battle came to its victorious conclusion. “Please come in to refuel and restock.”

The Prism City gates opened and the brigade made their way in to relax after a battle well won.

---------

Author’s Note Continued: Definitely need to expand this chapter.

[stinkybott]

YAAAY THX FOR THE TAG 😻💕

1.- Invincible - Robot/Rudolph Conners

2.- Slugterra - The Shadow Clan

3.- Buzz Lightyear of Star Command - Evil emperor Zurg

4.- The Legend of Zelda - Phantom Ganon

5.- Transformers - Bludgeon

6.- Neon Genesis Evangelion - Asuka or Pen Pen

7.- Five Nights at Freddy's - Funtime Foxy

8.- Star Wars - Captain Fordo or Boba Fett

9.- My Little Pony - Thorax

10.- Helluva Boss - Ozzie/Asmodeus

Tags: (no pressure!)

@kellyshadowolf

@dazzzersart

Anyone else is welcome to join!!♡

10 fandoms/ 10 characters/ 10 tags

thanks for the tag! @might-as-well-happen 🥰

not in any order, just whichever fandom i thought of first

Batman - Tim Drake

Percy Jackson - Annabeth Chase

Chronicles of Narnia - Lucy Pevensie

Vox Machina (animated show) - Keyleth

the Owl House - Willow or Eda

Attack on Titan (anime) - Levi Ackerman

Fruits Basket (anime) - Tohru Honda

Six of Crows - Inej Ghafa

Star Wars - Anakin and Ahsoka and Obi Wan (they’re all tied for first)

Heartstopper - Tori Spring

just for fun so don’t feel like you have to do it if you don’t want to. i’m tagging: @resilientnarnian @queenofnevermore @edgemcjee @nodesiretogrowup @aike-pandas @absentplatypus @a-commas-a-pause @avayarising @maliagf + anyone else who’d like to play!

[skyfire85]

Colossus Wasps and Ithullan Ore Haulers

Hailing from the Stenness Node region and specifically the world of Ithull, Colossus Wasps were titanic insects that averaged between 1 and 1.5 kilometers long with wings up to several hundred meters in length. The wasps spent most of their time migrating from world to world, consuming cosmic rays, stellar radiation and occasionally other interstellar creatures like space slugs.

Their large size and adaptations for living in space gave the native sentients of the Node the idea to collect the corpses of wasps that had naturally succumbed and convert them into space ships. Despite the Nessies’ insistence that only wasps that had died of natural causes be used, the high bounty placed on intact carapaces meant that more than one group resorted to poaching, not an easy hunt given the wasps’ large size.

Once a wasp body was secured, the Nessie engineers began modifying the shell for use as a transport by removing the internal organs to make room for crew spaces, generators, computers. a command deck and the all important cargo holds. In order to maximize the available space, two ion engines were mounted to the outside of the abdomen for realspace travel, while maneuvering surfaces and jets were attached to the legs. Two heavy turbolasers in the thorax and several lower-powered blasters gave the Ore Hauler defensive firepower against pirates, and the wasps’ own thick shells provided ample protection against radiation, micrometeoroids and pirate blasters.

Sources: The Essential Guide to Vehicles and Vessels, The Official Star Wars Fact File, Tales of the Jedi 4, Wookiepedia 

[femdomdiaries]

Fandoms I Can Write For

Plus some of my favorite characters:

*= current interest and takes priority

To be added to

Anime

-Attack On Titan: Levi, Eren, Jean, Niccolo

-Black Butler: Sebastian, Claude

-Death Note: L

-Demon Slayer: Tanjiro, Inosuke, Gyutaro, Tengen, Yuichiro, Aizetsu

-Fruits Basket: Kyo

-Haikyuu*: Oikawa, Kenma, Tsukishima, Tanaka, Nishinoya

-Hunter x Hunter: Illumi, Meruem

-Inuyasha: Sesshoumaru

-Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure: Fugo, Purple Haze,

-Jujutsu Kaisen*: Gojo, Sukuna, Itadori, Nanami, Megumi, Toge, etc

-Kamisama Kiss: Tomoe, Mizuki, names i forget

-My Hero Academia: Bakugo, Amajiki, Hawks, Dabi, Shinso, Monoma

-Naruto: Shikamaru, Gaara, Kakashi, Itachi,

-One Punch Man: Genos

-Ouran High School Host Club: Hitachiin Twins

-Seven Deadly Sins

-Tokyo Revengers: Draken, Mikey, Baji, Chifuyu,

TV Series

-American Horror Story: any Even Peters character

-Avatar The Last Airbender: Zuko,

-Gravity Falls: Bill Cypher

-Hamilton

-Hazbin Hotel: Alastor

-Miraculous*: Luka, Chat Noir,

-My Little Pony: Thorax, Braeburn

-Once Upon A Time

-Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Turtles obvi

-Stranger Things: Steve, Billy

-The Good Place

-The Mandolorian: Mando

-The 100

-The Walking Dead: Negan, Daryl

-Transformers Prime*: Knockout, Breakdown, Preda King, Ultra Magnus, Dreadwing, Optimus

-The Vampire Diaries: Klaus, Elijah, Damon

Books/Movies/Webtoons

-Disney

-Divergent

-Lookism

-Lord of The Rings

-Marvel

-Maze Runner

-Narnia

-Omniscient Reader

-Percy Jackson and the Olympians

-Pirates of the Caribbean

-Star Wars

-The Hunger Games

-Twilight

Video Games

-Apex: Mirage, Fuse, Bloodhound (yes)

-Bendy and the Ink Machine

-Deltarune: Roulxs

-Detroit Become Human: Connor, Ralph, Markus, Jerry

-Fire Emblem: Keaton

-Five Nights At Freddy’s: Glamrock Freddy, Sun and Moon

-Genshin Impact

-Mystic Messenger: Dateables and Unknown

-Obey Me: Dateables but especially Satan and Barbatos

-Overwatch: Sigma, Ramattra, Cassidy, Junkrat, Reaper

-Undertale: Classic Sans, 99% of other Au Sans, Swap!Papyrus