#tw implied dissociation

[ask-utayaboy]

okok, I knowwww u said u wanted all the questions at once but each part has like....questions within questions and yknow what I'll just send em all and u do it at ur own pace, ok? then, I'll tell u what it all means!

The questions under each part are to guide you, but try to describe it with as much detail as you can if you want more detailed results hehe (or not, it's up to you, just whatever u want) hope ur ready for this one, Kabru!! (and dear mod lol)

⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛

Imagine you're in a desert (or any room really) and come across a cube…

How large is it? What is it made of?Where exactly is it in the area? Is it buried under sand (or whatever the ground's made up of) or sitting on top? Is it floating in the air? Is it moving? Is there anything inside of it? What's the surrounding area like?

Upon observing the cube, you see a ladder…

What material is it made from? How tall is it? Where is it in relation to the cube? What's the state of the ladder; does it seem sturdy or more frail?

Now picture a horse…

How far is it from the cube? What is it doing? Which way is it moving? What does it look like? Is the horse tied up or roaming free? Is it wearing a saddle? What sort of mood does the horse seem to be in?

Next, picture a flower…

Where is it in comparison to the cube?How many do you see? What kinda flowers are they? Are they healthy?

Then, a thunderstorm begins…

Is it big or small? Violent or calm? What is the distance between the storm and the cube? Does the storm affect the ladder, horse, or cube? Does it affect you? How does the storm make you feel?

- 🥣 anon

Okay .. um ...

The cube is sitting in a.. hole in the sand. It's about the size of my palm - and .. There's nothing around besides me and the cube. It -

I ..

How - Sorry, what is this for?

[thygoodvibez]

Trapper asked; What's your Pyro vision like? Is it also extremely colorful and filled with nothing but pure joy, or something different?

[kaddyssammlung]

Heartstopper (Netflix Season 3)

[raisans-art]

Brothers starter is so messed up because even in the scenerio that Emmet gets to be human again, hes not been human for at least a decade. Can he even go back to living like that? Hes legally dead, he never finished school or made human connections outside of Ingo and even then the connection between a pokemon and human is far different from two humans. He doesnt really have a reason to try being human again apart from giving ingo back his twin, not even a reason for himself.

You can never go home again.

[sofiabix]

This is how Ive felt my whole life

[m3lting0ffth3b0nez]

i doesn't matter how clearly i speak or try to convey my thoughts and emotions it just never clicks with anyone else. i swear to fucking god im gonna have to spend the rest of my life frantically trying to explain my thought process to everyone around me

[stymecoulli]

i watched an angst tiktok, like, ONCE

something something leo thinks he has died when he went to the prison dimension and he’s living thinking he is in the afterlife and his brothers and the world around him is not a reality. his bros naturally don’t take this lightly.

(based on when leo says “took you guys long enough” when his brothers rescue him. he didn’t think they were rescuing him; mikey was NOT powerful enough, there was no way leo was saved. so he just. thinks they’re unreal because he didn’t expect them to come. he thinks hes being pulled into his limbo his afterlife AFTER HE HAS DIED. i do not remember who made this idea on tiktok but it ROTS in my BRAIN /pos)

reblog greatly appreciated ❤️

tws in tags (stay safe)

[ani-and-the-corries-au]

Hey people, this post is a little different than my usual ones.

I kinda wanted to post something on the 4th/5th but time got away from me.

I have a lot of snippets and segments of ideas from stories in this au that I wrote up.

This is... Sort of the extended segment of my little "Fox and Anakin's first meeting" snippet.

There will probably be more to follow this but for now, I hope you enjoy this little chunk of story.

Autumn

••••••

"We put republic resources into your upkeep, and the bare minimum we expect in return is that you do the jobs that you were made for." The Senate guard fumed.

Anakin pushed himself back into the corner behind the trio of Clones who had all moved in front of him. The familiar mantra of 'I'm not here, there's nothing to see.' ran through his head even as he watched the exchange.

"The Chancellor has decided to cut a third of your funding until he believes that the guard has earned it back CC-1010." The man snapped.

"We need that funding to get supplies for the Men Sir." The clone said, and it almost seemed pleading even through the vocoder. And Anakin felt the surge of concern from the unfamiliar Clone Commander. 

"We're already struggling to get enough supplies after the last cut."

The other Man only snorted derisively. But Anakin was more interested by the surprise blooming in the force from the troopers around him in response to the Commander’s words.

"Perhaps you should put in more work into being worth your upkeep then." He said shortly.

And that didn't seem fair. It seemed to Anakin like the Corries did plenty of work, honestly he thought that maybe the Senators and other guards should be a little more grateful to them.

"Also, you will gather together every useless Clone that failed to stop the attack and bring them to us for proper disciplinary action.” The guard commander sneered, expression so much like that of an especially smug Master that Anakin couldn't help but lean away.

"If it were up to me I'd have them all sent for reconditioning, but unfortunately it's not.". He seemed to be enjoying this interaction a little too much.

Anakin wasn't sure what reconditioning was, but the fear that had soaked the force around them at the words spoke for itself. Anakin wasn't sure what proper disciplinary action entailed either. But the overly pleased look on the other guards face and the fear in the air brought to mind images of Electro whips and beatings, water and food restrictions, abandoning people to the freezing nights or biting sandstorms for even minor provocations.

He quickly pushed those thoughts away, this was Coruscant, not the slave yards. Things worked differently here. It was fine. Even if the words felt suspiciously like a lie even in his own head.

"Don't Talk back to me, Clone." The man snarled, snapping Anakin out of his thoughts.

He must have missed part of the conversation but he came back in time to see the man grabbing hold of the front of the commander's armor. "You do what the republic tells you, you got that? we say send half the guard to the Lower levels, you send the guard." He leaned in closer, expression angry. 

"We tell you to send your useless men back to Kamino to be Reconditioned, you send those men."

He reached in and ripped off the Clone commander's helmet. Anakin couldn't help but notice that the Clone Commander hadn't moved a muscle since the other man had grabbed his armor, he was frozen staring straight forward, short curly hair tumbling into blank eyes as the helmet came off and hit the ground with force.

"You do, as we say." The man snarled, leaning in again. "We could order you to execute your own soldiers and you'd have no choice but to obey." 

He reached up and grabbed the silent man's face. "We own you, Every pound of duplicated flesh that comes from Kamino is ours, and we will do what we wish with it, do you understand?"

"Yes Sir."

In the back of his head Anakin had the feeling that he shouldn't be here, that he was seeing something that an outsider shouldn't see. But the thoughts were dulled by the Man's words echoing in his head. 

'We own you.' He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to look at the picture that was slowly coming together in his head.

The guards almost never spoke unless addressed. They were entirely ignored unless someone needed them or took some kind of issue with them. The entire Senate seemed to treat the guard, the clones as lesser than them. He thought back to the interaction he and Padme had crashed, how the two aids had been talking about them. He'd thought that there was something wrong with how the guards were treated in the Senate, but did it go deeper than that.

'we own you.' 

Slavery was illegal in the republic, they had rules against it, Qui-Gon had told him so. 

Maybe the man meant something else, but Anakin was having trouble seeing what else 'we own you' could mean.

Anakin pressed himself further against the wall, he didn't hear whatever else the Man said over the screaming in his ears, he couldn't tell if it was his own thoughts or the force pressing in around him. He wanted to be wrong, he had to be, he couldn't. It couldn't.

"..Ad..? Are you ok..?" A hand brushed his shoulder and he started, looking up into the helmeted face of one of the Clones.

From further away he heard snippets of voices.

"Wait, what do you mean he heard everything?"

"Fox, he's just a kid, he's not going to do anything."

He tried to peer around 'Twelve-Sixteen' to see what was going on, he could still feel distressed in the air, but it had a desolate edge to it now.

'Twelve-Sixteen' Knelt down in front of him.

"Hey, it's ok Ad'ika. Don't worry about any of that ok?"

He was trying to sound cheery, but Anakin could feel the nerves underneath the false cheer. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead of agreement or a confirmation of understanding, the words that spilled out were the ones echoing around his head.

"..They own you..?"

The words came out far louder than he'd ment them, and suddenly all four clones were looking at him. The Commander, who had put his helmet back on, sighed Audibly.

"The Coruscant guard and Grand Army of the republic are both republic property." The man said he sounded tired, like he didn't want to have this conversation.

"But… they, they can't." Anakin stammered, pushing to his feet. "You're People." 

The clone who'd been talking to the commander shook his head. "Maybe to you Ad'ika, but not to most Nat borns."

"They bought us off of the Kaminoans." 'Twelve-Sixteen' told him, shrugging. "If they hadn't brought us, we wouldn't exist."

That did not make Anakin feel better, in fact somehow that was worse. 

"But… they're not - this isn't the outer rim." Anakin stammered. The one thing in the way of his discovery was the fact that Qui-gon had said that Slavery wasn't legal in the Republic, but… that had been ten years ago… had that changed?

The guard commander sighed, if Anakin focused he could feel the storm of emotions around him.

"No, it's not, Welcome to Coruscant." He said flatly. 

"Now, you really shouldn't be here, go back to your Jedi." 

The Commander turned and stormed off, but he didn't seem angry, just tired, so so Tired.

Anakin felt frozen, even as his mind was spinning with thoughts, unfamiliar pieces clipping together into a picture that was all too familiar even as the setting was the furthest thing from.

"Ad'ika…?"

"I.." Anakin stepped away, his hands balling into fists. "...I… They…"

The words weren't coming, but he could feel the worry and resigned acceptance suffusing the air around them.

When he eventually did find words, they weren't addressing the fact that his new friends weren't what he'd thought, maybe weren't even Free like he'd thought.

"...I… can you… I need to talk to Padme… do.. Do you know where I can find her…?"

[larrrrs]

If i kill myself, will you finally care about me how I care about you ?

[hoglinz]

exile selfie ! !

[ask-utayaboy]

*quietly hands him an ice cube*

- berry anon (ooc: I've heard it helps? I'm not sure though, sorry if it's wrong)

He .. takes the ice cube and simply holds it in his hands. Who knows what he'll do with it? He's got it now. Maybe it'll melt in his palms. He'd probably let it. At least it's something.

[h-didanart]

…. So Nexus right?

I haven’t watched the episodes but I’ve heard about how he basically tortured Ruin and Moon by digging through their memories and stuff.

Which

Kinda

Might’ve

Given me an idea

It’s not canon to the au, of course but

But like

I can’t just not do something with it

So

Trigger warnings: Dissociation, panic attacks, flashbacks (though they don’t show heavy violence), implied torture, implied SA (? It might not be super obvious to those unfamiliar with the main au//fic)

Extra warnings: I got feelings when writing this, so, uh, you’re probably going to cry. As always, Bloodmoon is an unreliable narrator, even more so in the type of mental state they’re at here. Read safely

———

And You Drop Us Like That In A Nexus Of Torment

———

They stared at the ground, claws shaking as they tried to lift themselves up. Their breathing was ragged and their vision was blurry, barely able to make out the patch of grass they had been dropped at.

They winced at the ache in their joints, but managed to sit up. Their arms moved to hug themselves after a second.

They were alive. They survived. They… where were they?

They looked around, tensing up at the darkness that surrounded them.

It was dark. It was so dark they can’t see—faint light.

Faint light behind them. There was a source of light. They had to focus on that.

They turned to the light, a blurry mess of yellow and white standing in the distance.

They had to get closer.

They had to get away.

They moved to stand, legs giving out at first before they tried again.

Once they were standing they moved to approach the light source, trying to ignore the way their injuries burned with every move— they don’t have injuries, they do, they don’t, then why can they feel the gashes in their legs? They aren’t real, but they are there, they’re not there, they never left, they did, they can feel him, he isn’t here, they’re gonna die, they won’t, they’re gonna die, they—

Tripped and fell.

They sat up, tears falling to the ground.

They can’t think about that.

They had to keep walking.

They had to focus.

They had to make it home.

They stood up again, now face to face with what seemed like a house.

They knew that house.

They stared at the house and its bright lights. There were people inside.

Maybe they could help. At least they would be better than I’ve always been curious about what really happened in October- Don’t -Let’s see what you have to hide~- Please

A hand went up to their mouth to muffle the sob that escaped.

Keep it together.

They took a breath and walked up to the door.

Slowly they raised a hand to knock, but hesitated. They rubbed harshly at their eyes, suddenly self conscious of what they undoubtedly looked like.

They took a shaky breath and finally knocked.

It wasn’t a very loud knock. They steadied themselves and knocked again.

They let their arm fall back down, other arm wrapping around themselves tightly. They stared at the door, anxiously waiting for whomever would open it.

After a while, they got their answer. A yellow figure with striped pants stood there, probably confused if not scared. Not like there was much to be scared of.

They tried to look at his face, their gaze immediately dropping to the floor the second one of his rays came into view.

It was muffled but they heard him say their name. It kinda sounded like their name, at least.

They took a breath and their voice box crackled on. But nothing came out. They tried again, getting straight to the point.

“Is Solar home?”

All of them stood there in silence for some time.

Sun moved to the side.

The door did not close.

They stared at him- as much of him as they could see at the moment. He gestured to the area inside.

They glanced inside, then back at Sun.

They watched him hesitate before reaching out a hand towards them. They looked at it, for a long time. And slowly their own hand went up to his.

He guided them into the house.

A pressure let up in their chest.

The inside was brighter than the outside, and the smell of cat fur and sweet foods put them at ease.

They found themselves sitting at a couch a moment later. They heard as Sun left, his footsteps followed by a different set of footsteps.

Their footsteps echo through the la—daycare He’s leaving them to die

They brought their knees to their chest, burying their face in them.

They’re on the flo— against a play structure They can’t move He’s laughi�� dead silent

They clutched at their hood.

They just want it to stop

A burning sensation started bubbling in their chest, their breathing only accelerated with it.

Not here. Not here.

They heard themselves whine as they ground their teeth together in a ditch effort to avoid the inevitable.

For the love of God not here.

They felt a wet cloth land in their head.

Their claws immediately reached up at it, their legs pushing them against the couch’s corner.

Someone sat close to them.

They stared for a second or two.

Tears started pouring out of their eyes before they even pounced on him. He held them gently, rubbing circles on their back.

They still couldn’t let themselves break down however, they had to warn him. But the only thing that could come out of their voice box was sobbing, and they wouldn’t be able to stop once they started.

They held tighter onto him.

A feeling of weightlessness overtook them, only making them cling onto him more. And then a door closed.

They were in his room.

They looked up at him. Solar looked back at them.

They… supposed they could cry for a bit. He wouldn’t judge. He wouldn’t laugh.

They could do that then.

So they let the sobs escape, and they let themselves shake in his hold, and they let themselves be scared. And through it all he held them, and he cradled them, and he comforted them.

That’s all they needed at that moment.

[loaffofbred]

joe?

[elysiae]

ON-LYNE headcanons based on concept art, songs, and the miniscule info we have on them with a little bit of self projecting and mental illness mixed in

because im techrotted brainrotting over the boys and i love them dearly and im so excited for the technocyte codas i cant take it i need to yell about them (also partially inspired by this post! go check it out its so cool, i love the theories and based a lot of the personality traits off it)

also quick note that we're going under several assumptions here: Gregory V is and has been a shit manager for a while, they know they're being replaced, they live together and are hiding in some corner of Hollvania that's uninfected, and most importantly of all that they're alive and (barely) kicking

(concept art was snatched from the warframe fandom wiki, technocyte coda page)

~5-7min read, long ass text wall warning

ZEKE

he's giving he/they bisexual

definitely has a history of dealing with peer pressure. "never set the trend, follow your own" he is sooo against that go with the crowd shit... which is really funny when you take the infestation into account

chronic depression that's been stuck with him for a while now, but it's spiraled beyond anything he can reasonably manage ("Zeke hungers to unmake himself" can be taken a plethora of ways)

wants to get an eyebrow piercing but Gregory never let him "for his image" (still soooo fucking salty about that)

^ speaking of, he's so salty actually. not to a point of being petty exactly and it's 90% directed at Gregory because he's just so sick of the guy but WOOH can he throw shade

anyway he's giving grunge fashion enjoyer

i know this is semi canon but im leaning into it HE IS 1000% AN AVID FASHIONISTA. and he has some STRONG OPINIONS on fashion trends

if he's not bedrotting, he's trying on different outfit combos. always getting the boy's opinions on them

they don't hire anybody to do their outfits for their shows because Zeke is always on it. he knows everybody's style, what they're comfortable in, and what looks good on them like the back of his hand he frankly doesn't trust anybody else cuz they always fuck it up (see "Zeke has some STRONG OPINIONS on fashion trends")

Zeke SWOONS for Drillbit's fashion sense. when they first met, that was what grabbed his attention: he's so unapologetically himself and the expression through fashion hooked him. (take it platonically or romantically idc)

he loved loved loved being famous at first, but with everything going on he's losing that spark. and it terrifies him because this was his dream for so long

his actual problem (shit manager aside) is that he can't deal with the pressure of being the face of the band. like yeah, everybody plays their part, but he's the leader. if he wasn't the one fully in the limelight, he'd be better off, but he doesn't realise that yet <3

and he desperately needs a break

he's gonna snap soon and it isn't gonna be pretty

whether that ends up in somebody dead, himself dead, him in a mental hospital, or something less extreme, that's a future problem for a future Zeke

DRILLBIT

PUNK KING

there's a running joke he has psychic powers. it's like he just reads everybody's mind. he just KNOWS??? it creeps the other boys out sometimes

would be an awesome therapist

studied psychology in university for 2 years before dropping out because he didn't have the time needed to really dedicate to it

(plus i mean, he's already living the life as a singer, no point in getting a degree he might never use)

had really bad scoliosis as a kid, uses a brace to try fixing it

^ his posture is awful

^ ^ he hates chairs, especially ones without cushions/padding. most uncomfortable shit ever

^ ^ ^ unfortunately Gregory never fuckin listens to him so he has to suffer almost every event

shorter than Harddrive (6'1) & Zeke (5'11), but wears platforms so he looks like he's the tallest

DJ is always stealing his spiked bracelets. it used to annoy him but he gave up after figuring out they'd always magically reappear on his dresser a couple days later tops.

he's always going after Packet for his posture. "buddy you don't want to end up like me, trust"

definitely an astrology fan. not like full on believing in it, he's not an astrology girlie, but he finds it cool. has tarot card sets

i feel like he'd be interested in witchcraft too, but it's something he keeps very, very close to his chest. not even the boys know

deliberately pushes his luck with Gregory. as the 'token alt' he gets away with more, and he's trying to see how far he can go with it before Gregory shuts him down. it started after the whole Zeke eyebrow piercing shitshow.

listen, Zeke is his best friend and he's happy for him, but man, does he want to be in the spotlight. i mean, face of the band, the 'leader'. if Zeke were to step down or something happened, Drillbit would snatch the opportunity SO fast.

he knows Zeke's problems better than Zeke himself does lol, he's been trying to subtly convey that for months now. Zeke isn't the only one, though

Drillbit always had this sixth sense when it came to everybody else's feelings, he always felt them stronger than his own like the shore of the peaceful beach swept over with a tsunami.

sometimes it makes him physically ill.

empathy. but it's something more than that

right now, emotions are high, overwhelming, suffocating from all corners and he's drowning in the tides.

HARDDRIVE

this might be a little heavier sorry in advance

contrary to the implications of "he really knows how to treat a girl and make her feel like she’s the only one in the world!", he has actually never had a girlfriend last more than 3 weeks

not because of anything he's doing. he just has a knack for getting really shit partners

he's gay, but extremely in denial for the LONGEST time and trying to come to terms with it

so emotionally intelligent? if you're going to have a late night deep talks, it's going to be with him. guaranteed. he thinks a lot about things

maybe a little overprotective of the boys? just a smidge.

he's a cuddly teddybear yes, but he could still 100% kick your ass if deserved (but would feel guilty for weeks)

used to have stagefright. Zeke and Drillbit helped him come out of his shell in that regard, but he still does freeze up sometimes when he remembers he's on stage. in front of millions of eyes.

cottagecore energy. enough said.

shares rings with Drillbit all the time (insert marriage joke here)

he can carry all of the members around easy peasy and has done it to all of them at least once on camera. there's sooo many memes about it all over the internet

never escaping the perfect husband material allegations (truth)

he doesn't really mind the fame... but he's also not entirely sure about it. he preferred being a smaller band, when he didn't have to hide his face and deal with fans every time he went out.

part of him wants to leave, but he's torn between his loyalty to on-lyne, more specifically his friends and memories in it, and freedom. but with being such a well known figure, he knows it isn't that simple.

there is no freedom. he hit the scene, there's no turning back.

he'll always be Harddrive, wherever he goes.

PACKET

aroacespec. demiaroace maybe. havent quite decided

not gonna lie i do not have many ideas for him, but that is the most demiboy to ever demiboy. i mean come on, PACKET as a stage name?

im sorry the name Packet had to come from an inside joke or something

has had like 50 different hair colors over the course of his life. this is his natural hair color though because he needs to give his poor hair a break (SAME BUDDY)

inattentive ADHD. nothing else to add there

UNGODLY SLEEP SCHEDULE. stays up to stupid o' clock gaming. you need to talk at 3:08am? he's awake!

might be biased from this post but he's giving "cute unsuspecting guy knows a lot of really concerning things" (how to hide a body, all kinds of manipulation tactics, how to kill a person in various ways, how fast bodies decay, must i go on)

^ hes a writer. he writes fanfics and posts them under another name, i dont make the rules

you'll hear him cackling at 2:47AM and i can almost guarantee it's because he's laughing at terrible reader x on-lyne fanfics

sorry but my king here looks like his mom dressed him and i think Quincy would have a heart attack if he saw him. Zeke sure did when they first met (Zeke is singlehandedly carrying his fashion on live performances)

(OK THIS WAS A LITTLE MEAN BUT THERES WAYS I WOULD PERSONALLY DEFINITELY FIX IT)

Zeke probably gave him a whole ass makeover. took one look at him and was like hell No you need to learn how to style your outfits or i will die (exaggerated but as a fashion enjoyer i feel u Zeke)

he's 70% of the reason Zeke doesn't trust anybody else to do their outfits because of how awful his sensory issues are. everybody else fucks it up and he can never make the full show without a meltdown

people seem to think he's a lot younger than he is and it drives him fucking crazy because nobody listens to him (the boys do though <3).

there used to be a serious infantilizing problem in the fanbase but on lyne managed to nip it in the bud for the most part.

he has dissociating problems, running on autopilot sooo much. forgets he's a person. so easily lost in conversations. you know how it is!

listen this might just be my love for horror, inspo from this post again and (probably 80% of it) an au i've been writing recently... but he's giving uncanny valley. unintentionally freaks people out.

like he has problems. everybody has their problems but there might actually be something Severely Wrong with his mental, but whatever the hell it is, nobody really knows??

he's still an awesome guy; smart, friendly, incredible mediator, there's zero doubt in anyone's mind he loves the boys

but its not just what he knows and has researched that's strange.

it's the way he switches up so fast when somebody walks up to him. the wildly different traits he shows for different people. the way common morals dont seem to be something natural to him, but he makes an effort to look like it is even with a lack of passion. it's the fact that despite being a mediator and being so 'empathetic' with the boys, he's very... emotionally cold in other departments. his behavior like a lightswitch, two completely wildly different modes

with everything going on, i don't think they ever will really know what's up with him. just gotta hope it doesn't get worse, whatever it is, and that he's okay

"don't hate the hacker, hate the code", amiright

(as a small a/n i have actually not decided what is up with him. because in the au i wrote---and what led me to get attached to these boys---hes a fanatic cult follower who's barely clinging to the ropes of sanity because shit just got that bad. will be doing research so i dont stereotype whatever i end up attributing to him :thumbsup:)

DJ RoM

first of all.

🏳️‍⚧️ . i know what you are DJ. they/he user spotted

does not gaf about Gregory's whole "hide all this stuff about yourself for your image" shtick, they're always making trans jokes

i know their fan site page says he's "soft spoken and quiet" but i look at them and can't help but think they'd say the most unhinged things.

and you think he's bad on camera? they're worse off camera <3 Zeke may be the one flirting with everybody but this guy? THIS GUY is a different level if you know what i mean

naturally blond but started getting grey hair from stress and just ran with it. eh they stand out more who cares

definitely has busted hearing

they have tinnitus. it drives them crazy. usually they just tune it out, but there's times where it seriously gets under their skin and you can TELL

very sound sensitive. misophonia moment

out of everybody they NEED to have a good 10 hours of sleep or they will NOT be able to function. (unfortunately i imagine considering the circumstances, he probably hasn't had enough sleep in a good few months at least)

he has so many different kinds of sunglasses. the regular ones in their art, but also heart shaped, star shaped, probably more fun shapes too

horror enjoyer, especially analogue/psychological. stuff that messes with your head.

super fast learner, especially musically

probably multilingual but as for what languages they know i'm not sure lmao

you know all that advice that's like "when somebodys making fun of you take it really well and laugh with them, and the bully will move on because youre not a fun target"? yeah this guy. living proof it works (for the record i dont actually know if it works, he just has this vibe)

i have a feeling he's gone through some really traumatic things. like, before the techrot takeover and maybe even before meeting the boys

he's seen shit and at this point it's really, really hard to make him flinch.

but theyre so chill about it that youd literally never guess

Drillbit's been trying to get them to open up and talk for years now it feels like, because he's not just seeing a mental decline, he's seeing a physical one. they all are seeing it

and it scares them

... i think thats my longest post yet lmao. anyway they're hot and they better not die in an upcoming update and we better be able to KIM message them or i'll wail. my favorite band of introverts that look like extroverts and accidentally got famous and dont know wtf to do with themselves because theyre BEYOND 6 feet deep in this shit now

k peace im going to bed... feel free to throw out thoughts on these guys bc i need more content of them (and i need more harddrive headcanons)

[keikaru]

the erotics of eating - Dunmeshi [Mithrun & the Demon]

Summary: Mithrun’s dungeon rises from the ashes of Eden. The demon studies the erotics of eating.

Content Warning: implied sexual assault

Desires nestles deep in his chest and the demon coaxes it out with a slow, steady hand. The demon’s hands press against his body, and Mithrun flinches from its cold touch. Prone on his back, Mithrun loses all desire to resist. The goat hovers above him and slowly lowers its mouth near his navel.

Mithrun closes his eyes and forgets how to breathe. The demon devours him, nuzzling its way into his body, his heart. His desires. The carnal way the demon devours his desires makes Mithrun lose all appetite of himself.

The first few moments when the demon penetrates him, it feels like nothing. But a sudden wave of pleasure ripples across his body and immobilizes him—strips his autonomy.

His breath hitches and fingers curl into the soft duvet underneath. Mithrun bites his lip, and his hips roll with intense desire. The demon’s hands—or are they claws?—grip his hips into place and steadies his movements. Mithrun gasps and his mind dims everything except the tremors of ecstasy overwhelming his body.

His feet curl, and his body throbs for release. Mithrun stifles his cry and pleasure, and shame tints his face. He weakly pries at the demon’s hands, but the effort drains his resistance. When he catches the demon’s gaze, it only smiles. The demon’s hands graze over his skin, tracing over his abdomen and murmurs how soft his skin feels and the alluring curve of his neck.

Mithrun loses his voice, and his eyes narrow with tears.

Finally, the demon obliges and motions with its index finger for Mithrun to come.

Like a chalice that overflows, Mithrun trembles and his body quivers violently under the demon.

He doesn’t want it. He wants to tear his body and mind away.

But he can’t resist.

He doesn’t want the demon to violate his sanctuary with perversions.

Mithrun spills over like an ink bottle tipping on its side. His body only reacts to physical stimuli. He’s not enjoying it. It repulses him, he hates it. It’s an act of degradation and control—

“Why do you make that face when consuming you is beyond erotic?”

Mithrun wanders deep in the labyrinth until he notices that the stone below his shoes grow damp. The walls around him become canines. Something is off.

The walls collapse, and

Something wet touches his neck and Mithrun snaps his neck to the ceiling. An unsettling feeling crawls at his chest, but he stubbornly swallows down his fear. He observes the dungeon around him. The air stills, and a faint rumble echoes through the halls.

Mithrun goes up to the wall, tapping his knuckle against it. He raises an eyebrow. His knuckles press against a malleable surface. The wall responds with an unusual squelching noise that only rouses his suspicion of the dungeon.

Specifically, the true form of the dungeon.

Upon closer examination of the stonework, the walls appear as if they’re moving. Pulsating. Mithrun steps back to unclasp his cloak. He activates his teleportation ability, and the cape replaces his hand with something moist.

Moist?

He realizes that the stone floors glisten with water. The ceiling drips water onto his hair and clothes, and he shivers. The walls shake and he realizes that it’s not made of stone but calcium and teeth.

His suspicions slide together like a puzzle and Mithrun only needs to piece together the last part. Mithrun drops his hand to his boot and produces a dagger.

Immediately, he stabs the wall. The walls shake with a silent scream.

The labyrinth collapses when Mithrun shatters the illusion.

[fallenwhumpee]

Promise

• Part 1 • Part 2 • Masterlist •

Warnings: Medieval settings, blood, battlefield, dissociation.

"We are not taking that mission!" Healer shouted to Leader, their head stretched back to stare at Leader. "We don't take missions in villages. And this won't be an exception."

"Like it or not," Leader towered over them, putting a hand to their chest to stop them from getting closer. "We don't have any choice in that. We can't abandon our lands to the enemy. We will fight."

Leader watched as the anger got more intense in Healer's eyes.

"You will send us to slaughter! You know we don't do well in the missions involving civilians. The team..."

"No one will visit you after this." Leader cut sharply. "I promise. I won't let my team pull their usual stunts."

"You can't just stop them from taking a blow for some random stranger."

"Have more faith in me. When did I get us into something we can't handle?" Leader tried again. They needed Healer to see their point.

Healer looked at them for one more moment before sighing and averting their eyes. "But I'm not patching anyone after this."

"That's the spirit. Now pack up. We're leaving with the lunch."

Healer nodded, leaving Leader alone. Leader made their way to their room in the guild's barracks. They closed the door behind them slowly, letting their shoulders drop.

"I don't know what should I do," they admitted to the haunting heaviness hovering over them. A moment later, the familiar bone deep feeling of loneliness washed over them, and they had to lean on their desk to stay standing as their strength drained from their body for a moment.

"I can't  keep going on like this." They muttered to themselves  after it. This was getting beyond their control.

Stopping their thoughts to save their sanity, straightening their stance slowly. They walked over their wardrobe and pulled out a large shield, their sword and armour. They couldn't help but stare at them for a moment before starting to get dressed. The armour over their skin was the only thing that made them feel secure in those days. The only thing they felt like they belonged to.

Not their team.

Despite loving them dearly - and being loved back - Leader was not a part of the team. They were the sword and the shield between them and the enemy, but not a part of it. It was just according to the regulations. Leader couldn't afford to be among the people they were sworn to protect. It never ended well.

Slowly pulling the straps and locking the metal pieces into each other, Leader abandoned thinking altogether. A moment of peace was needed, and they found it relaxing just to do something and not think. They only left their helmet out, putting their long sword to its sheath on their back, placing the very large shield over it. Making sure it's secure, they packed two set of clothes and some water. They were ready to depart.

But their eyes lingered in the big room, checking it for a last time. Their bed was tidy, so the other... They averted their eyes. They forgot nothing. There was no need to torment themselves more.

Stepping out of the suffocating room, Leader felt heaviness linger over them for one more second, but they smiled when they saw their team and ignored the feeling.

"We are ready to depart." Right Hand walked a step forward. "Briefed about the mission. The place looks good for defence. I don't understand why they need reinforcements there."

"They need replacements. And I've heard it's nearing the end. The enemy is giving up. Just need some more pushing."

Leader walked past the team after glancing at everyone, the smile on their face not faltering despite the emptiness pulling their mouth down. They got into their house with one move, the shield messing with their balance a little. It was vast, even for Leader. They had never understood how...

No. Leader wasn't hoping to think about them. Leader had to keep their head there and then. They simply turned to the horizon and rode the horse.

"The battle will be already going on when we arrive," Leader said after they covered a significant distance. "I want you to stay close and work as one unit. You will just hold the defence until another order, either from the general leading the battle or from me. I need you to fight as long as you can, in the other words, do not try something idiotic because none of you will be useful if you're dead."

That gained some chuckles but also nods. Good. Leader needed them to stay alive and well. They made a promise, after all.

The rest of the ride was silent on Leader's part, listening to their comrades and keeping an eye on everything. They only slowed down once they reached the narrow gate, the last lights of sun already departed, leaving them in dark. The battle sounds began to give Leader goosebumps. They felt their heartbeat match with the distant clatter of metal and shouts, their hand instinctively reaching their sword.

The team hid the horses, getting ready to dive into the battle. Without a word, Leader drew their sword, the weight of it familiar in their grip. They blew out a breath and scanned the scene before them. Their focus shifted to their team.

"Stay close," they felt the need to warn.

Without further orders, the team advanced. The disgusting smell of blood-soaked soil once again filled their lungs, the ground beneath them shook. There was nothing, nothing that could distract them from doing what was right. They would not attack, never attack, but they also wouldn't hold back their sword raised to protect.

When Leader's blade met the enemy's for the first time, their focus was absolute, every movement precise and calculated. The clash of metal, the cries of the soldiers, and the roar of battle filled the air, a chaotic symphony that set their heart racing. They moved with a single-minded purpose, their sword an extension of their will, their body.

When their body caught up with their mind, they shifted their focus. Their limbs moved with the will to survive, while they could finally take off their mind from... all of that.

Their eyes found their team, which was holding themselves very well without any help. But Leader could see the telltale signs. Very few civilians were left on battlefield, but their team was already making a safe circle for them, but not as careful as Leader would like.

Still, Leader trusted their team. They trusted and went on, avenging their sword with swift motions. Their one eye was still on their team, and they could see the enemy finding more and more openings.

It was the last straw when they saw Teammate nearly dropped their sword under pressure.

"I hate doing your job," they muttered to the air, taking out their shield. They gripped the shield tightly, their focus shifting entirely to the task at hand. With practised precision, they positioned themselves between their team and the enemy, using the shield to deflect blows and create openings for counterattacks.

Blow after blow made Leader falter, their arms getting heavier from carrying the large shield with one and their heavy sword with the other. Still, they kept their footing as the shield absorbed blow after blow.

When the shield was slammed to their chest by another shield, Leader's breath were knocked out of their lungs, a crack sound lost in the loud clash of two sturdy metal. Leader gasped and relieved the pressure by stepping aside, the motion causing them to lose balance but gain some space. They swung their sword, managing to get under the armour of the enemy general— but also being the victim of the same move.

Their shoulder was stinging, the pain sharp and fresh and distracting, but Leader knew they couldn't afford that. They lunged forward, ignoring the strain they put to their shoulder as the pain only became another chaos in the background.

If it was in more friendlier terms, Leader could enjoy the fight with someone even to their strength, but on the battlefield, it only meant danger. A threat to get rid of. As Leader's sword clashed against their opponent's, their focus narrowed. They couldn't afford to be distracted against such opponent. With swift and calculated movements, they parried and struck, each blow getting harder to maintain.

Despite the burning pain in their shoulder, Leader pressed on, their movements fueled by adrenaline and the instinct to survive. With a final, decisive strike, they brought down their opponent, the clash of metal not banging in their ears for the first time as their sword cut the flesh.

With a weary sigh, Leader glanced around at the scene of the battlefield. The enemy forces were retreating, and the villagers were slowly emerging from their hiding places, cautiously reclaiming their homes. Their team, though battered and worn, stood strong beside Leader, thankfully without any injuries. Years of practised efficiency guiding them, they set up a small camp for their remaining, prioritizing the healing tents and such before finally setting up one for themselves.

Leader slid in without being noticed, a small basin of hot water on their hands. They didn't want to join the celebration outside when they felt so dirty after the battle, and they didn't have the strength to do so. Placing the basin next to their makeshift bed, they took of their armour, pain throbbing with their every move. They ripped the thicker set clothes they brought with them, soaking them with hot water and slowly but tightly wrapping their shoulder. They then wore the other set, hiding the handmade bandages. They didn't look terrible, at least.

Taking the remaining fabric, Leader begun cleaning their armour, the simple and repetitive motion calming their breaths and relaxing their muscles. While tending to their armor for what felt like an eternity, Leader's thoughts were empty, as if the cloth and water could wash away all of their problems. They set aside the cloth foe a moment before they took the shield, the metal gleaming faintly in the dim light of the small gas lamp, the blood over it turning to a dark coloir. They sighed heavily, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling.

They could wash their armour, their sword sloppily, but they could never think of doing that to the shield. Not their shield, the shield, that once belonged to Leader's dear friend, Caretaker. Leader smiled at the imaginary of Caretaker freaking over the possibility of their shield getting Rusty, but Leader's smile soon turned bitter. Caretaker would be freaking out, only if they had been alive...

Just as they were about to pick the cloth again, a voice broke through the silence of the tent.

"Leader?"

Leader glanced up to see Healer standing at the entrance, their expression a mix of concern and hesitation.

"Yes?" Leader replied, their voice as flat as ever.

Healer stepped inside, their eyes scanning Leader's weary form. "I... I wanted to apologize. I shouldn't have questioned your judgment earlier. I understand now that you were doing what you thought was best for everyone, and I should've teusted you not to pick up a mission that may compromise the team. You were right on your promise. No one from our team visited me tonight."

Leader stated Healer for a moment, progressing the words. "It's alright," they assured. "I'm just glad that this ended well."

Healer nodded, smiling with relief. "I also wanted to invite you to join the celebrations outside. The villagers are grateful for our help, and they want to thank us."

Leader shook their head slowly. "I appreciate the invitation, but I think I'll pass.."

Healer's expression fell slightly, but they nodded understandingly. "I... Okay... Just know that you're always welcome if you change your mind."

"Thank you," Leader smiled softly. I'll keep that in mind."

With a final nod, Healer left the tent, leaving Leader alone with their thoughts once again. With not much left to do, Leader cleaned the shield while listening yo the celebrations and ignoring their thought before curling up into their bed, the lively chatter outside serving as the lullaby to defend Leader's mind feom nightmarish memories.