#would much rather have to Paralysis resist

[nightmareonpeachstreet]

>catches a Purrloin

>game crashes

>loses my Purrloin

>falls in a big hole

>falls in a big hole

>falls in a big hole

>falls in a big—

[clannfearrunt]

Hi I'm spitting out biology (and a liiiiitle bit cultural) musings more of them. These guys are actually terrestrial holothurians (sea cucumbers). I'm putting my stonks into echinodermata we have to believe in their Powers to evolve new and exciting shapes.

The people who keep symbiotic fish in their tentacles call themselves Anemones, while the ones that reject the fish as parasites and wear shell-like hats over most of their tentacles call themselves Nautilus. In the modern day there is an increasing population of those who consider themselves neither of these things but due to the history of these two cultures there isn't a widely accepted colloquial name for the species as a whole.

They're not cnidarians so they don't possess stinging cells, but they produce a thick venomous mucous from their tentacles that causes paralysis and inflammation on contact for various other animals. They evolved as social ambush predators that would jump on their prey and slather this mucous over them to subdue them. Their ideal diet is like 60% meat and 30% fruits, with bonus whatever the fuck else they feel like eating as a treat.

The venomous mucous may have been what initially started the Nautiluses' practice of covering most of their tentacles, along with protection from the sun and aerial predators. They have a long history as a multi-species people, and keeping contact venom just exposed around your loved ones without resistance to it is just plain dangerous. These days it's more of a visual identification and religious thing though.

These guys don't have real eyes, but are covered in light sensing cells all across their skin. They have shit visual acuity and can't see very far, but they're usually aware of the general silhouette of large objects a few feet around them, and are sensitive to movement. The Anemones, at least, formed a symbiotic relationship with a species of amphibious fish partially due to them being able to see farther and with higher acuity and warn them of things they might not have picked up on by themselves.

There's a lot of in-universe debate over the exact intelligence of the clownfish, but the average seems to be kind of parrot-like, with occasional exceptionally intelligent, probably sapient individuals. They're hard to study, because they're usually extremely shy towards other people, plus Anemones tend to develop a very strong bond with their clowns that skews their perception of what their own fish is capable of. In the modern day the relationship between Anemones and their fish is largely religious rather than out of any real practical necessity; the Anemone religious hegemony considers these fish as one half of a full person, and places an extreme importance on maintaining this relationship. This is usually fine and what ever, but can place Anemones and clownfish alike into difficult situations when the relationship is unwanted or cannot be maintained properly for whatever reason. It's also the reason Anemones and Nautilus have historically considered themselves separate, often rival species; the presence of the clowns or lackthereof have been considered mutually repulsive and a sign of something being deeply Wrong about the other group.

Most terrestrial holothurians are small, trundling insectivores, but there is one large species these guys share a close evolutionary relationship with. The dropbear are solitary, arboreal ambush predators that used to share much of their range with Anemones, but are currently critically endangered in the wild. Anemones, with their very low visual acuity and poor sense of smell, have a very hard time distinguishing dropbears from members of their own species. It's thought the need to tell friend apart from foe is what drove them to develop complex vocal capabilities.

Side note the Example Anemone here is wearing an extremely hastily designed example of traditional Anemone accessories; they didn't have a nudity taboo and actually prefer to keep most of their skin uncovered so they can see, but they enjoyed wearing accessories with tactile or audible elements built into it. Beads were often placed so they'd click together when moving, and combined with knots in the cords were often arranged according to their traditional system of cord "writing" so that people could read each other's clothing.

These guys support themselves on land through an endoskeleton made up of a network of mesodermal ossicles and catch connective tissue. When threatened, they can dramatically loosen their skin and let a predator or perhaps a guy easily tear off whatever part of their body they've grabbed, allowing for an easy getaway with relatively easy wounds to regenerate. This easily gooped skeletal structure does make them very prone to fatigue though. It was fine, because they're ambush predators. They were just supposed to be sitting there most of the day. Please.

[booksandwitchery]

Revering Nature

Throughout my search for science-based pagan books to help me on this path of mine, Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer kept popping up--so I finally read it.

I would recommend it to most people, especially those who feel a special connection to the natural world but don't exactly know why. I can see this book offending a lot of people on the right side of the political spectrum, but if you fall into that category I'm betting you found this blog in an accidental or ironic sense anyway.

Ultimately this book is all about reverence for the natural world and the importance of maintaining a spirit of respect, reciprocity and responsibility for the gifts given to us by nature. It makes a strong case for maintaining balance, which is a) weaved throughout pagan religions, b) arguably foundational to them all, and thus c) deeply relevant to my studies. Kimmerer also explains the importance of ritual and ceremony to human beings, regardless of our beliefs (or lack thereof.)

Bits of wisdom I marked down from this important book (just in case this isn't clear, everything inside quotation marks is taken directly from the book) separated by theme:

I. Exploitation of Natural Resources

Kimmerer disapproves of the belief that the natural world is human property to be produced and sold: "The commodification of the natural world is just a popular story told by humans. Strawberries belong to themselves."

II. Indigenous Wisdom & Animism

Thirty percent of English words are verbs, but in many indigenous American tribes this proportion is as much as seventy percent (as with the Potawatomi tribe). The language does not divide between masculine and feminine, but rather between animate and non-animate. We can learn from Potawatomi and other indigenous "ways of knowing" because even their very language acts as "a mirror for seeing the animacy of the world," and honors the universe as "a communion of subjects."

III. The Power of Balance

The author stresses the need to maintain balance with nature and life in general: "Balance is not a passive resting place--it takes work, balancing the giving and taking, the raking out and the putting in." Kimmerer suggests that we should temper our desires with self-discipline, which "builds resistance against the insidious germ of taking too much."

IV. Capitalism and the Death of Contentment

Kimmerer comments on consumer society's tendency to see contentment as a "radicalist proposition" and capitalism's dependence on the creation of unmet desires. This reminded me of The Door to Witchcraft by Tonya Brown, when she writes that we should try our best to have an abundance mentality rather than one of scarcity. We should take from nature only what we need, and give back whenever we can.

V. Importance of Ritual and Ceremony

Kimmerer beautifully explains humans' innate need for ritual and ceremony: "Ceremony focuses attention so that attention becomes intention. . .ceremonies transcend the boundaries of the individual and resonate beyond the human realm. These acts of reverence are powerfully pragmatic." This is deeply reminiscent of my post last year on the psychological benefits of ritual ceremony. This affirmed my belief of why these behaviors are ubiquitous despite all varying forms of thought and belief.

VII. Pessimism in the Environmentalist Community

Regarding the fatalist attitude that has crept into many environmentalist conversations: "Environmentalism becomes synonymous with dire predictions and powerless feelings. Despair is paralysis. It robs us of agency. It blinds us to our own power and the power of the earth."

[thescions]

Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis? What about blackouts or other gaps in your memory? An intrusive physical interaction? Combine all those horrors and you'll understand a tiny bit of what it was like for Thancred to be possessed by Lahabrea!

In truth, Thancred cannot remember when exactly he fell under Lahabrea's control. He can remember, however, the feeling of when it first happened: like something sharp digging into his temples while a wave of paralysis took over, making him unable to even draw breath. And then -- a push. A force that was not solid, and yet it weighed down on him like an intense cast of a Gravity spell.

He was smothered. It was like drowning in one's own aether. He didn't know what was happening and he was terrified, unable to even scream --

Flickers of recognition. Of shapes. He couldn't remember returning to the Waking Sands. He was speaking with Urianger, with Minfilia, and yet the conversation felt so far away. He didn't know the words being said and he still could not seem to draw breath. His limbs would move on their own and gods, it hurt because at first, he attempted to resist their movement, try to force them in any other direction to indicate something was wrong. All it took was one attempt, though, and he was promptly smothered once more, choked and forced silent. The Ascian did not allow him to attempt that again and casually blamed ‘his’ brief muscle spasm on not landing properly in a past sparring session.

For much of the time, Thancred was “asleep” in a sense. But there were several other occasions when his spirit would ‘wake’ -- conscious, but fully deaf and blind. Just walking or moving his lips to the words of his Ascian puppet master. He had no idea what he was doing – nor what or who he may have been touching. The unknown and lack of control of it all was intensely violating. This would contribute greatly to Thancred’s preexisting dissociative habits.

And on top of all that, Thancred would occasionally find himself able to sense the thoughts Lahabrea kept to himself. It wasn’t quite an inner monologue, but it was sense of observation – and moreover, of judgment.

How easy it is to infiltrate them. To persuade his closest friends with only a handful of memories at my disposal. Choosing so duplicitous a target has served me well.

No one suspected anything. If Thancred appeared to act off, Lahabrea was easily able to dismiss or dodge suspicions that could have been raised by individuals that knew him for years. On one hand, Lahabrea was an admittedly nigh-omnipotent Unsundered Ancient, powerful and effective. Yet on the other, Thancred could not help but feel pangs of disappointment in those that knew him the longest – even Minfilia herself. Not that he would ever bring that up with any of them, of course.

(Thancred will have just recently met the WOL in most canon-abiding cases, so he is not generally put out that they did not recognize a difference in this behavior. He primarily was disheartened by his colleagues who had been in the Circle of Knowing with him.)

But finally, finally, Thancred found himself freed of of the Ascian’s grasp.  Coming out of it was wonderful, but it hurt almost thrice as much if only due to the beating the Warrior of Light had to give him when Lahabrea fought back! For all that and more, Thancred was confined to bedrest and needed extensive healing and rehabilitation for weeks after the defeat of the Ultima Weapon. It took even longer for him to build up his physical stamina and endurance again to what it once had been, and sharp, painful migraines persisted on and off for nearly a year afterward.

For this reason, Thancred is not fond of feeling suffocated or being put into tight spaces -- but he will do so, without complaint, if his role requires it. He'd really rather just avoid those sensations as much as possible. When fighting Ranjit, he was placed in a similar position where he couldn't breathe. It was a traumatizing situation he had to put himself through repeatedly during that battle, but at the very least, he was in control of the situation...sort of.

Similarly, Thancred would be less inclined to use physical intimacy as a means of gaining information for some time after ARR. It wouldn't be a permanent aversion, and of course like the Ranjit fight, sometimes he'd have to be uncomfortable in order to "win" a situation. But again, in reference to the intrusive and violating feelings associated with the possession, Thancred would be less likely to let folks into his personal bubble as he worked through regaining ownership (and working through that temporarily loss of it) of his physical body.

If the Warrior of Light ever were to, post-Pandaemonium, praise or otherwise insist that Lahebrea was a good person at his core, Thancred would...respect his friend's opinion by leaving the room and avoiding the subject. Even if he can understand and perhaps even sympathize with the Ancients' plight, there are certain situations and traumas that one cannot (and does not have to) forgive. Thancred will hold many of his grudges to the grave, even in light of new information in most cases. Especially if he or someone he loves suffered at the hands of certain individuals.

An additional sidenote: Although it was likely an oversight/scrapped idea from the writing team, we will posit that Lahabrea had to use the choker to possess Thancred because that was the only way to keep Thancred alive while also taking control of him. And he needed Thancred alive to pull memories from him so that his disguise was believable.

[waterfall-ambience]

If you’re still doing the OC ask game, can you do 2 for Avery, 6 for Luna, and 16 for Riza?

2. What are your OC’s food preferences (flavors/textures/spiciness/calories/ when and how they eat) and how did they get that way?

Avery is a really easy person to feed because he’s not picky at all. Having grown up on Perpetua, he’s been exposed to and found an appreciation for a lot of different cultural dishes thanks to how the members come from all sorts of backgrounds. That, combined with being raised with Minerva's ‘everything in moderation’ + ‘try anything at least once’ approach to food, it's hard to find stuff he absolutely will not eat.

Flavour generally matters more to him than texture, and he doesn’t think too much about calories unless something looks/sounds insanely calorically dense.

That being said, if asked to pick from a menu, his choices would be a little boring. He might take the spicy option (now that he has a ‘resistance’ to a capsaicin, he WILL reap the benefits because it’s more fun that way).

But he’s also equally likely to pick the ‘default’ or ‘classic’ option because he’s not picky to the point where he doesn’t have strong preferences for almost anything (unless, say, he’s going for some kind of ‘vibe’). He’s also liable to order things with the expectation that someone else might want to sample from him.

6. What would STOP your OC from Doing the Right Thing in a tense situation?

The boring answer is ‘nerves’ or ‘he suffers from analysis paralysis when trying to figure out the best outcome’.

In an ideal world, Captain Luna is a perfect moral paragon and nothing would stop him from doing the Right Thing except the gods themselves. He always strives to do the Right Thing, and sometimes he can’t for whatever reason, be it nerves, or stretching himself too thin when trying to figure out the best outcome. Maybe the cost is too high, or he has to focus on the big picture rather than personal impact, the needs of the many vs those of the few. Even if the Right Thing is not achieved, what matters is that he tried and that he retains his personal innocence.

But of course, the world is not ideal, because the man is more than capable of holding a grudge. Even if the grudge is justified (see: that with the Wither King), he’s not immune to the catharsis of watching a bastard go down in cruel and sometimes unusual ways. He tries to hold off on it, because he recognises that a hard punishment that doesn’t really do anything to address the issue is just an excuse to torture someone, but dang, does it feel good, especially if he already hates them.

It's unlikely that anyone would ever find themself in this situation, considering that Luna finds forgiveness to be more beneficial for all parties involved, but god help you if you manage to seriously cross him.

16. How strong or weak is your OC’s Impulse control? What’s the worst thing that happened because of their Impulsivity or inability to be so?

Riza's impulse control isn’t great, and she’s prone to doing things on a whim if she has the energy. Usually it’s mundane, little things, like deciding stay up late to watch a slasher film, painting her nails a different colour, cropping her shirts, scaring people with her invisibility powers, nabbing stuff from stores because she thinks it’s funny (technically shoplifting, but ‘everything on Perpetua is an art piece so it doesn’t really matter’). Y’know, little things.

Though despite all of this, she doesn’t come across as particularly impulsive (not like Icarus or how some other members more obviously are) because she generally tends towards laziness. She doesn’t usually go around pocketing random things, but it’s less due to an absence of an urge to do so, rather than thinking about it and subsequently deciding not to.

Riza's impulsivity hasn't really gotten her into major trouble yet (maybe just Alice being disappointed in her + making her work more), but that just might be because Alice doesn't let her in any important control rooms with levers and big red buttons.

[mt-lowercase-m-derogatory]

I've rewritten this into the style of HP Lovecraft. Because reasons. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kZLYDChmfO4 for where I've narrated and captioned it!

The most unfortunate of dating stories, I must recount, is the incident involving the shoe.

During my high school years, my closest friend was under strict parental supervision, forbidden to engage in courtship without the presence of another couple to oversee his actions. This was no pure case of progenitor protectiveness, as madness seemed a marked feature of the family line. Much like ichor from a stone, the unreasonable can precipitate no reason.

In my junior year, after a rather dispiriting breakup with a quasi-girlfriend, I eschewed the notion of dating, much to the dismay of my friend: He had found favor with a young lady he had encountered within a house of law. He persistently urged me to re-enter the social arena of dating, not out of concern for my well-being, but to further his own romantic endeavors. After weeks of resisting his incessant entreaties, I was finally worn down by this proposition: he would arrange both date and expenses, so naught but my attendance would be required. In hindsight, I should have declined. An event premised on absurdity of such sort could hold no kindly fate in store. And yet, he managed to further complicate matters.

The arc of his moral descent remains obscured to me: whether sinking desperation or an eager plunge brought his measures about, it is immaterial. He contacted a girl from his religious congregation - a girl profoundly besotted with him - inviting her to a romantic outing. The implication that he would be her partner remained unspoken, but not unbroken, as I was informed me he'd found me company for his plans. I would not learn of his transgressions until weeks past the event; I would have stopped this travesty had I known of it, and I would scream that solemn vow to even God and all His Angels - and likely will with my dying breath.

On the day of reckoning, my frugal preparations proceeded with minimal fanfare. I donned my favored attire, comfortable yet sartorially offensive: shorts of basket ball, flops which flipped, and a Baja hoodie. Though it afforded me great comfort, it rendered me a spectacle of eccentricity.

Upon arriving at my friend's abode, I collected him and his date before proceeding to my own. It was at this juncture the farcical nature of the evening began to unfold. As I approached the door, my date's initial exuberance turned to disappointment, then disgust, and finally, anger. Unaware she had been deceived as to her prospective partner, I felt my wardrobe and its levity had been unjustly maligned.

Seconds passed in mutual appraisal afore the door was slammed in my face. The terror my friend radiated mixed with our baffled paralysis for the eternal heartbeats before the door once more opened.

Her father, a man of imposing demeanor, invited me inside, explaining that his daughter was upstairs and would require some time, which we would use to talk. We did not talk. We did sit. He sat across from me, meticulously cleaning a pistol - a gesture I could not decipher as either a threat or merely the manner in which his age and sort of man was to indulge in fidgeting. My offer of aid in this cleaning was rudely rebuffed, and so I simply observed, judging his skill to be middlingly adept.

When my date finally descended, her fury was beyond my ken, though not beyond my recognition. Attributing her ire to my appearance, I endeavored to compensate with chivalrous gestures. Having escorted her to the car, her father called me back to the door, leaning into the most sacred margins of my personal space to issue a warning: "Whatever you do to her, I will do to you."

True bewilderment, in its most elevated form, consists not of lacking rationality, but of Reason overwhelming all else as it did in that moment. Three such truths this bestowed me: Firstly, and to the detriment of the patriarch's character, his passable display of pistol maintenance had indeed been a threat. Secondly, even I in the midst of my 'tism intuited that no romantic overtures were fated to occur. Could he truly believe in a triumph of passions between myself and his daugher, or even one… of lusts? Only then did the third and least welcome line of deduction sink in: was this man threatening my person with a bout of the fucking? In my throes, I gave my only response:

"I can't get pregnant."

So thinking to express his machinations for a farce, I felt protected by my confidence in the separation of spheres: the Veil between our world and the Omegaverse would preclude the patriarch's work from coming to fruition.

In that instant, the nature of insanity was forever clarified to my interlocutor: One does not turn insane when, for a single instant, comprehending the vastness of truth - it is the following moment that renders the mind to shards, when one has to fall back to mundanity, forever altered and yet uncomprehending of oneself. I, however, had countless experiences with such esoterics, and my bearings returned in time to make a vehicular escape while the father was yet regaining the function of speech - though what he lacked in alacrity was more than compensated for by the volume and pathos of the words he left in our wake.

In our era of blessed darkness, ignorant to mobile communication technologies that might have called her home, my date merely felt a moment of perplexion before her scowling could grace the deserving party and myself once more. We attended a display of improvisational comedy, an experience the others felt to be marred by my anxious, uncontrollable laughter.

Following the show, my friend suggested a walk in the park, a proposition soundly rejected by my date. Knowing what fate had already befallen her, I felt a great sense of mercy and released her a safe distance away from her home.

Left to chaperone my friend and his date in a park, I climbed a rope tower 30 feet in height, seeking a natural panopticon with which to distance myself without forsaking my duties. However, my friend, oblivious to my intentions, intruded upon my tower of solitude, followed by his date. The mercy I had shown that night was not bestowed to me, as I sat there while their sappy and sopping affections occured well within audible distance, and my powers of dissociation revealed their value once more. When some collegiate members of our age cohort began shaking the spire my tormentors and I sat upon, the opportunity to flirtingly soothe and comfort was not lost on my friend, motivating me to descend and engage with the rude accosters of our unhallowed peak.

After resolving the disturbance to raised middle fingers, I returned to my car, the day's chaos finally overwhelming me. Soon, the students felt a whim to climb up, prompting the core duo of our uncomfortable tricycle to climb down and return to the car, where my heart was hardening to a conclusion. I might not have been able to salvage the memory of that day, but I could brighten its ending with an indulgence of righteous pique. Instructing my passengers to avoid any untoward endeavours, I set out for the tower and began pilfering the shoes left by the college students in their ascent. Then, I realized that the appearance of theft would undermine the purity of my motives. As such, I returned only the right shoe of every pair, gave myself a 100-foot head start, called out "nice shoes, assholes" and punctuated my escape with a diminutive jig.

To all who might heed this caution: college students are swifter than one might anticipate. Despite my head start and their descent from the tower, I found myself a mere five seconds ahead by the time I reached my vehicle. I flung the door open, glanced into the backseat, saw no one, tossed the purloined shoes to the back, and heard two "ow"s as confirmation of our collective's completeness.

My friend and his date emerged moments later, having been engaged in… peculiar activity in the backseat, invalidating my singular request. They clambered forward to inquire about the origins of the shoes, whereupon I confessed to my act of larceny. They responded with noncommital well-wishes, which I accepted with the tact befitting my education: "Speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?"

And at that point, for the first time in his life, I believe my friend was actually embarassed.

bad dating stories time: the shoe incident

so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.

at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.

he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?

and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.

but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.

i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?

(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)

and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.

i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.

that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.

i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.

anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.

i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.

we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.

he was okay at it.

eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.

soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.

realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:

"i can't get pregnant"

which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.

still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"

and then i was in my car, and i drove away.

if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.

and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.

WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.

we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.

do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.

and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.

then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.

and then they started making out.

i was close enough to hear it.

i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.

so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.

now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.

so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.

about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.

my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.

my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.

they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?

and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.

[emptymanuscript]

https://thehill.com/regulation/court-battles/4681639-james-comey-donald-trump-on-election-interference-case/?utm_source=fark&utm_medium=website&utm_content=link&ICID=ref_fark

“I wasn’t sure that I would have [brought the case] when I read the indictment, but now having seen the case, I’m not sure — after investigating it — how they wouldn’t bring it,” Comey told NewsNation’s Dan Abrams on Wednesday. “They had a much stronger case than I imagined.”

This hits me funny and I am not entirely sure why.

The obvious element for me is: well, that’s why you perform the investigation instead of assuming you know the answer.

And maybe that’s the deeper element? This idea of assuming we know what we actually don’t. Including myself as no exception, there is a profound lack of humility in the US. We simply assume that we know the situation and therefore have the answer. Neither of which we have actually invested that much time, energy, and thought into. We just know. It’s obvious.

Sure we CAN change our minds when the right evidence comes along but that start position often means we simply don’t ever get access to the information we need because we neither bother to look nor accept someone’s alternate opinion that might clue us in to better information.

I think I count as a highly informed voter. Though that hits right at the problem. How do I know? How do I measure? How do I verify? What even is the definition? Why is it even a good thing?

While I assume that high information is better than low information in order to have less false assumptions, I am aware of a study that says people who access information less often can actually end up with better comprehension of the information they have in the long run. People who consume news nearly every day like I do, tend to know more details but end up staring at individual trees rather than grasping the truth of the forest. Or something like that. So is high information voter even a good thing to be if it is true? I don’t know.

I feel like it is a legacy thing more than a momentary thing. The point isn’t to be all wrapped up in the moment but to use the moment to find predictive patterns. That it’s sunny today doesn’t matter as much as realizing that days in May tend to be sunny so that’s an appropriate expectation in general while also noting the aberrations such as it has been unusually cool and cloudy this May so I have to actually look this year instead of just assuming I know what the weather will be like.

All 3 levels are important: Long History, Current Trend, Right Now. As is the meta category of how they interplay with and comment on each other. Get too caught up in any one of them and you’ll miss crucial information about the others.

I feel like we, culturally, tend to get caught up in Current Trends or some sub-category of that. Like if you just bluntly asked me about our political parties I would have the knee jerk response of Republicans: Bad, Democrats: Decent, there is no Good. That doesn’t have much to do with anything I am reading specifically today. And has nothing much to do with anything prior to 1960. It’s just the current trend I see. And it’s therefore necessarily full of holes and lacking in specifics.

So… what? What do we DO about that? Is it even a problem? Should we do anything about it. Generally, we don’t seem happy as a society, so that seems like a really good reason to self examine. So I figure we should. But that could also be analysis paralysis.

I also note that I am HIGHLY resistant to engaging in political discussion even with people I like where I know we disagree on which letter makes you bad vs decent. Which means I am also hoarding information instead of giving it in addition to resisting an avenue of information.

And tomorrow I will have dinner with the guy I wanted to leap over the table and attack the first time I met him so it’s probably a good idea not to over focus on this idea. Pro-tip, good relationships are not encouraged if you enable a fight with your mother’s boyfriend’s eldest son. Just keep repeating that. Peace in the home comes first before trying to inflict it on everyone else. XD.

And I should shut up now. But it does still ping around in my brainy pan that this deserves thought and attention. We I should work on this somehow. Just dunno how so much.

[flurrys-creativity]

Hey flurry, for the milestone event can I ask for a Jackson as a Incubus au where the reader summoned him to help her by "having a good time" due to stressful situations in life and also exes not being able to satisfy her needs? Thank you and I hope your having a great day or night.

I’m so sorry it took me so long... it was just... a loooot of smut..... :scree:

Anyway let Incubus!Jackson please you tonight :D

Si vis amari, ama (If you want to be loved then love)

Pairing: Jackson Wang (Got7) x Fem!Reader; Genre: SMUT, Incubus AU, basically pwp, a teeny tiny bit of fluff; Rating: nsfw, 18+, MDNI, Warnings: mentions of stress, masturbation, using toys, summoning an incubus, sooooo much sex, various positions, nipple play, oral -> both receiving, multiple orgasms, nipple clamps, choking, riding, cum soaked panties stuffed into the readers mouth, overstimulation, creampie, doggy style, chains, anal, double penetration; Wordcount: 5.025

Summary: Stressed, loaded with work and not satisfied with your needs. That was your daily life. So in a spurt of desperation - even though it was supposed to be a joke - you summon an incubus and live through the best night you ever had.

“As the sleep paralysis we know to date couldn’t be explained in ancient history, the myth of incubi and succubi came to life”, you mumbled under your breath as you typed the words for your academic assignment. Your gaze flickered from the keyboard back up to the screen, rereading what you just typed. You tapped your left index finger on the keyboard without pressing it too hard, thinking over the structure of the sentence. You sighed deeply and deleted the whole sentence again. There was no way you could bring up ancient myths in your scientific paper.

You ran your fingers through your hair and opened the website again, where you drew some of your information from. The word ‘incubus’ was highlighted, indicating it linked to a different site. Tempted, you reached for the mouse and moved the cursor over the highlighted word until a small window with a preview of the site opened.

“The first mention of an incubus was in Mesopotamia”, you read aloud, clicking on the link to open it in a new tab.

Your scientific assignment was forgotten for the moment, your mind too interested in the myth of such a creature.

“While some researcher muse the appearance of incubi and succubi could have to do with either a sleep paralysis or to cover up cases of rape with close relatives, others work hard to prove the existence of these creatures.” You scrunched up your nose in disgust. ‘Even back then the human race was rotten to the core’, you thought to yourself and silently wished incubi were in fact real rather than knowing how awful humans had been time and time again.

“Incubi take the form of human males, coming for women in their sleep. The woman is unable to resist the supernatural powers and gives herself to the demon of lust almost willingly. Should a woman be able to resist the power the state of paralysis is forced on her, making her obedient.”

You clicked your tongue in annoyance, not really liking what you were reading.

“Those assumptions are based on the stories told over time, making the incubi and succubi into lustrous monsters that only wanted to satisfy their needs.”

A low hum escaped your lips as you stopped reading. You remembered in one of your history courses that the history was often based on the stories told by the stronger countries and they would always want to justify their wars. For a moment you wondered if the stories of incubi could be the same, since only humans told them and back then especially women weren’t allowed to intercourse with anyone else but their husband. The stigma of being a whore had a grave impact.

You shook your head and scoffed, regaining your composure again. Why would you try to make a myth logical? Your eyes shortly glanced at the open tab of your research paper, knowing you had to continue writing it, but your mind immediately refused to do it.

With another sigh, knowing the stress of turning in this paper will bite you in the ass later, you turned your attention back to the website about incubi.

“Since incubi are a type of demons, humans are able to summon them with a little practice. Though before deciding to do such a thing one must be aware of the possible outcomes. While incubi are only demons of lust, it has been said that frequent visits of incubi can lead to health issues, mental instability and even death.”

You raised an eyebrow questioningly, reading through the instructions of summoning an incubus. “Demons of lust”, you mumbled and tapped your lower lip in thought, “with their experience the sex must be out of this world.” A smirk played over your lips at the thought of having a partner who was actually able to fulfil your needs.

None of your exes have been able to do that so far. They finished too fast, were only focused on their own pleasure or too inexperienced to do shit even if they tried.

Additionally you were tired of using toys, wanting to feel the real deal again. Of course the toys were great and made you cum but you missed the weight on top of you, the hot kisses in between and the wandering hands.

You sighed and read the incantation, repeating it several times in your head. There was no way you could actually summon a demon of lust. Though the imagination to get satisfied by an incubus in all the ways you wanted and needed, made you wet and horny.

You glanced to the bottom corner of your screen to check the time, seeing it was already way past midnight. “That’s it”, you mumbled and shut your notebook, deciding you had worked enough for today, “there is a vibrator with my name on it waiting for me.” You halted momentarily, realising how sad that actually sounded, before you shrugged with your shoulders. You were too horny to care right now.

After your usual routine of brushing your teeth, changing into a tank top and a slip, and closing the curtains in front of your windows, you crawled into your bed. You moved your thick blanket to the end of the bed and exchanged it with a thin sheet to cover your form. You then rolled to your nightstand, where your mobile phone was to turn on some music. 

It always felt nicer to hear the sensual songs instead of the vibrator, which you pulled out of your bottom drawer. You ‘hid’ all your toys in that drawer, even the ones that were supposed to be for couples.

Once you had turned on your back again and closed your eyes, you started to imagine someone being with you. Brown tousled hair, perfect to run your fingers through, thick eyebrows over dark eyes that almost appear black, a straight nose and high cheekbones, lips twisted into a sinful smirk and a jawline as sharp as a knife. You shivered at the mental image, focusing on more of the body you wanted to be there. Strong, muscular arms you would love to have wrapped around your throat, a well formed chest and stomach with a small, dark trail of hair leading to his dick.

You moved your hands along your body, slipping underneath your clothes, while you imagined those hands belonged to someone else. While one of them stopped at your breasts and toyed with your nipples until they were hard, the other slipped into your underwear, circling your clit until your body involuntarily shivered from the sensual shocks it gave you. 

With your fantasy consuming your mind and body, you didn’t even need to get some lube. Your slip was already soaked and stuck to your core. You grabbed your vibrator, which you had placed next to you and rubbed it over your entrance. Not being able to tease yourself any longer, you pulled your slip to the side and pushed your vibrator inside of you.

The slight stretch made you moan in pleasure. You didn’t waste anymore time and pushed the little button at the end of it, turning the vibrator on. With a few more taps on the button you turned it to the highest function, arching your back from the satisfying feeling.

Your breathing became uneven within a minute. Soft moans escaped your lips more often than a simple breath, while a thin sheen of sweat covered your skin. The tingling in your lower stomach became stronger, spreading throughout your whole system - from your toes to the tip of your ears. Only a little bit more for you to snap and cum.

You imagined the man over you, groaning into your ear while pounding into you relentlessly. “Cum”, you whispered, imagining it wasn’t you commanding you but the man instead. You whined softly, eager to finally let go when one vibration hit perfectly. Your legs spasmed from the pleasure while you groaned in satisfaction.

The wave came as quickly as it left again. You turned the vibrator off and pulled it out of you, rolling to the side to let it drop to the floor next to your bed. You would clean it tomorrow after a good sleep, feeling too spent to get up now.

You rolled on your back again, your muscles relaxing while you took deep breaths. “Good one”, you mumbled with a smile, before drifting off into a deep slumber.

Though your rest wasn’t as calm as you had hoped for. The stress of college, the loneliness and your unfulfilled desire haunted you in your dreams. You found yourself in front of your notebook again, reading the same website you had before you went to sleep. Amused that you were somewhat able to control your dream, you leaned closer to your notebook and scrolled through the page until you found the incantation.

“Ego vocare te. Creatura in tenebris. Implere mea necessitatibus et voluptatem desiderium meum. Ego tibi pro nocte. Sic accipe corpus meum, mens et anima. Ego vocare vobis, incubus.”

You turned around in your dream, hoping your imagination would actually create an incubus but your room stayed empty. You turned back to the screen, reading the words over and over again without anything happening.

Discouraged, you slumped in your chair and threw your head back, looking up to the ceiling. Not even in your dream you were able to summon an incubus.

That was when a face suddenly appeared in your view, a grim expression staring down at you. “Wake up.”

You jolted up in your bed, hand immediately clutching the front of your tank top from your heart beating rapidly. It took you several minutes to calm down again and when you did you dropped back down to your mattress, running your hand through your hair. “What a strange dream.”

“Reality, sweetheart”, a dark voice spoke up.

Once again you sat straight on your bed, looking around in the dark with wide eyes. You groaned when someone turned the little desk lamp next to your notebook on and shielded your eyes. You barely noticed someone turning around in your chair and staring at you.

“Who are you?”

He clicked his tongue. “Shouldn’t you know? You summoned me, sweetheart.”

“Summoned you?” Confused, you lowered your hand and stared at the stranger, who oddly resembled your vision of the man you used while satisfying yourself. 

“Usually the human is awake when they summon me. The audacity you have to call me in your sleep. I appear in all my glory, ready to start whatever wishes there are, only to be met with a sleeping person.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You better be! So, I can smell your arousal, sweetheart. What do you desire from me?” He stood up from your chair and walked over to the end of your bed, eyeing you up and down. “I’m here to fulfil all your naughty little dreams. You can call me Jackson.”

“Jackson”, you whispered, still not fully processing what was happening here.

“That’s a nice beginning, but I prefer to hear my name screamed or at least moaned”, he smirked and placed his hands on the mattress, leaning closer to you. “So where do you want to start?”

“Start?”

“Oh sweetheart”, he shook his head with a soft scoff, “first time summoning an incubus? Let me run you through it. I am said incubus and I live feeding from lust and desire, which is why I pleasure the person that summoned me until I feel full. If I notice though that something could affect you negatively, I will stop and leave. Otherwise I am here to do every kink you have. The whole night.”

“What about your pleasure?” You asked, starting to understand the opportunity you had in front of you.

“Hm, nobody has cared for my pleasure so far.” Jackson formed a little pout on his lips, while thinking over your question. “I do feel pleasure while having sex with humans. I think, I don’t mind how.”

You looked from him down to your lap, where your hands tightly held on to the thin sheet you had used to cover yourself. You nervously bit down on your lower lip. Were you supposed to just tell him what you wanted? You’ve never been this direct. Just the thought of telling him to fuck you sideways or something like that felt strange and foreign to you.

Jackson smirked, seeing the hesitation in your behaviour. He crawled like a predator over the bed until his face was mere inches away from yours. He raised one hand to grab your chin and lift your head to face him. “How about I just start and once you feel more at ease you tell me what you need?”

You nodded, feeling immediately relieved after his suggestion. 

Right after your nod, Jackson closed the distance between you and kissed you roughly, his lips moving against yours as if he wanted to devour you whole. When you wanted to pull back and gasp for air, Jackson only followed your movement and shoved his tongue into your mouth, playing with your own tongue and licking against your teeth. His hand moved from your chin down to your throat, his strong fingers gently pressing down on the sides, cutting your blood flow.

You started to feel dizzy and ecstatic at the same time, feeling your arousal from before returning full force.

Jackson bit down on your lower lip, pulling a small whimper out of your mouth, before he leaned back and observed you with his dark eyes. “What an interesting reaction”, he smirked, seeing your half lidded eyes, open mouth and saliva glistening lips. “You like being choked?”

“Y-yes”, you breathed as soon as Jackson lifted the pressure on your throat, the blood quickly streaming into your head again.

“I’ll remember that, sweetheart”, he whispered into your ear, lowering his head to breathe in your scent, his nose slightly grazing your sensitive skin on your neck. “Your desire smells so sweet”, he groaned, taking another deep breath that sent shivers down your spine. His hands wandered to the hem of your tank top and played with it before his fingers touched your bare skin. He moved his hands up along your torso and pushed your top upwards as well. 

Once your top slipped over your head, Jackson threw it somewhere into your room and quickly cupped your breasts. “Gorgeous.” He kissed you again as he played with your nipples. He only needed a few twists for them to get hard.

You whimpered softly, relishing in his touches all over your body. Your breath hitched when he pushed you back into your pillows and nearly ripped the thin sheet away from your body.

Jackson’s eyes hungrily roamed over your form. “I’ll take my damn sweet time with you”, he said with a teasing grin on his lips. “You better be prepared for a long night.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. Would he really be able to please you a whole night? You wanted to ask him that exact question but literally choked on your words when Jackson pushed your legs apart and latched his mouth onto your soaked underwear. 

He grunted lowly as he licked over your panties, getting a first taste of your arousal. “That’s what I like.”

Your eyes rolled into your head, feeling his tongue against your heat. You whined softly, wishing Jackson would remove your underwear and eat you out directly.

As if he was able to read your mind, the demon pulled your panties down your legs. He bundled it up and scooted back up to your face. “I know exactly what you want”, he purred and licked over his lips, “next time I want you to say it though.” He glanced at your bundled up panties and smirked. “Maybe getting a taste of yourself will help you get bolder. Open up!”

You reacted instantly and opened your mouth, not even flinching when he shoved your panties into your mouth. You felt the stickiness of your own fluids before you tasted them. Still trying to process that new feeling, you weren’t prepared for Jackson to move back down to your core again. You yelped, muffled through the fabric, and instinctively wanted to shut your legs.

Jackson growled and pushed them apart, holding them down with an iron grip while he continued to lick and suck at your entrance. His eyes darkened when he saw you arch your back and heard your loud moans over the wet noises from your pussy. “So fucking slick”, breathed against your core and pushed two fingers inside, curling them in a come hither motion.

You twitched underneath his ministrations, feeling the build up inside your lower body way sooner than you anticipated. Your breathing became irregular and you simply chased the feeling of his lips around your clit, how he sucked and played with it until you weren’t able to think straight.

“Do you want to cum on my fingers?” 

The vibrations against your lower lips let you spiral down into the abyss of pleasure and lust. “Yes please, yes!” You cried through the fabric of your panties, wishing to come undone for him. 

“Then cum.”

You didn’t need more to burst. Your whole body shook in pleasure while Jackson worked you through it. Once you came down from your high again your body grew limp. No man or toy had made you feel like this before.

“Don’t relax just now”, Jackson teased. He pushed himself up on his knees and snapped with his clean fingers. In an instant his clothes disappeared in a cloud of smoke, leaving him completely naked before you.

Your eyes wandered down to his middle and you immediately salivated seeing his thick cock. You leaned on your elbows to take a better look and instinctively spread your legs further apart. You wanted this dick inside of you. You needed him to fuck you into oblivion.

Jackson lowered his hand, covered in your slick juices, and started to rub himself. He watched your reactions closely, pleased with what he saw. “Take those panties out of your mouth and tell me what you want.”

You followed his orders immediately. “I want you to fuck me.”

Jackson snickered. “What a naughty little mouth of yours. I can’t wait to make you do all kinds of things with it.”

“Yes please.”

“So obedient.” He smirked and leaned over you, still rubbing his length with one of his hands. “How bad do you want it?”

“Very. Please, Jackson, please. I need you inside of me.” You closed the little distance between your faces and kissed him, snaking one arm around his neck and pulling him down with you.

That’s when he aligned with your entrance and pushed his thick cock inside of you. He grunted deeply into your mouth, loving the feeling of your walls around his length. Jackson slowly pushed himself further inside of you until his hips were flush against your own. He then started to pull back out and push into you again. With every push he became faster in his pace.

You broke the kiss as you became a moaning mess, your nails running over his back as you couldn’t control yourself. You threw your head back and let Jackson trail kisses along your neck. Even louder moans escaped your throat when he started to nibble and bit at your skin.

Jackson bit into your neck, marking you as his own. He traced the bite mark with his tongue in satisfaction before he kissed every inch of skin he could reach. All that without losing any speed. He continued to fuck into you as if there was no tomorrow. Jackson moved one of his hands down to your lower stomach, pressing down on it to feel his own dick hit against it. Satisfied he fucked you deeply another idea came to his mind.

He pushed himself up a little and grabbed your legs, pulling them onto his shoulders before he leaned back down a little. With the new position he was able to hit even deeper than before, making you scream in pleasure.

You approached your next high even faster in that position, begging Jackson to make you cum again. 

“Not yet.”

You were on the verge of crying, wanting - no - needing to cum soon. The coil inside of you tensed almost uncomfortably, sending constant little shocks through your whole body.

“Now!” Jackson growled and locked eyes with you. “Cum now!” He held you closely, refusing to let go of the current position. He closed his eyes as he shot his load inside of you, grunting when your pussy started milking his dick empty. “I’m gonna fill you up the whole damn night.”

You whined when Jackson slipped out of your heat and whined even more when his fingers stuffed his cum back inside of you, rubbing over your sensitive core.

“Do you need a break?”

You shook your head, breathing through the overstimulation. This was the best night of your life and you wouldn’t let it go to waste just because you felt a little sensitive.

Jackson smirked. “Good choice. How about you use your mouth this time?”

You perked up, your gaze flickering down to his still hard length. God, yes you wanted to choke on his dick. You were about to get up and out of your bed when Jackson stopped you again.

“On a few conditions.”

“Conditions?”

“I want you to hold my cum inside of you and no touching.” He cocked an eyebrow to test your willingness to follow his demands.

You swallowed but nodded nonetheless, crawling out of the bed and getting onto your knees in front of him. You looked up to him, seeing his tousled hair and superior look in his eyes. You licked over your lips, accepting the silent challenge he gave you. Blow his mind.

You licked over the tip of his dick, tasting the mixture of your juices on your tongue. With every lick you got bolder and soon enough you pushed your mouth down his length.

Jackson grabbed your hair and pushed you even further until your nose got pressed against his body and his dick hit the back of your throat, making you gag around it. 

Tears welled up in your eyes - a reflex you couldn’t control. You looked up to Jackson and nearly melted underneath his lustful eyes. You moved your tongue around his dick and slowly started to bop your head, hoping to give the demon the same pleasure he gave you.

The same pleasure that you still felt. You mewled around his cock and pressed your legs together, feeling the need and want inside of your pulsating pussy again. 

With every deep sigh, moan and grunt from Jackson, he drove you more and more crazy. You wanted to touch yourself, wanted to push anything inside of you to feel simply used.

“You got any toys?”

You hummed around Jackson’s dick, not daring to stop giving him head despite the question. Instead you simply pointed at the lowest drawer of your night stand as you continued to suck him off.

“Show me.”

You felt the heat creep up to your cheeks before you leaned back and let go off his dick with a loud pop. You glanced at Jackson, wanting to make sure he really meant it, before you shuffled over to the drawer and pulled it open, revealing a bunch of various sex toys.

Jackson laid on his side, watching with mischievous eyes as you pulled several toys out of the drawer and placed them on the floor. He rubbed over his hard cock, imagining all the things he could do to you with those toys included. “Give me the clamps.”

You didn’t even hesitate reaching for them and handing the cool metall over to the incubus. You watched him with wide eyes as he inspected the toy, tracing his fingers over the clamps and the chain connecting them.

A satisfied smile played over his features and Jackson beckoned you to crawl onto his lap, leaning back against your headrest. Once you had straddled his lap, Jackson’s free hand cupped one of your breasts, his thumb toying with your nipple. He looked up to see your reactions, grinning wickedly when your eyes already rolled to the back of your head and soft whimpers escaped your lips. Jackson raised his other hand and tightened the clamp around your nipple before he moved to your other breast repeating the same.

You mewled when Jackson tugged at the chain, arching your back in pleasure.

“This is going to be interesting”, Jackson murmured with a smirk. He grabbed his dick with one hand and guided your hips with his other. Jackson tapped against your skin and motioned you to sink down on his thick shaft.

Both of you moaned when he entered your tight walls and spread you open. You quickly held on to his shoulders, needing his strong form to stabilise yourself.

“Once you’re ready”, Jackson told you in a husky voice, nodding down to your joined bodies.

You nodded as well and slowly started to grind your hips. As soon as you felt bolder you lifted your hips and pushed them back down as fast as possible.

Jackson grabbed your ass cheeks and guided your pace, enjoying how you simply followed his lead without complaint. 

The room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin again. You started to get out of breath but the pleasure you felt was worth it. Feeling Jackson’s dick rubbing against your walls still felt incredibly hot and you easily lost yourself within this feeling. So much you nearly forgot the nipple clamps. Until Jackson leaned forward and caught the chain with his teeth, sucking the metall into his mouth and pulling at your nipples with the action.

You immediately came undone again, slumping down against Jackson’s form in exhaustion. “I’m sorry”, you whispered, feeling somewhat embarrassed by coming so fast.

Jackson caressed your cheek, pushing a few strands of hair out of your face. “I don’t think I can accept that. I have a punishment in mind, are you up for that?”

You nodded. Even though you felt slightly tired, your own desire outweighed it by miles. Still, Jackson had to help you move around a lot. He placed your hands on the headrest before he chained your wrists to it. Jackson then spread your knees apart and pushed your upper body forward until you were properly bent over.

You breathed through your nose, the pulsating pain from the nipple clamps slowly clouding your senses. You didn’t have the energy to turn your head and look behind you. Instead you waited impatiently, wiggling your hips from side to side until Jackson slapped your ass.

“This is a punishment, my dear”, he chuckled lowly and rubbed over your warm skin.

You squealed in surprise when you felt a lubed finger protruding into your ass, stretching you. The feeling was strange at first but soon enough you enjoyed that as well, sighing deeply with every movement.

Jackson grunted under his breath, his dick growing impatient. He grabbed the lube and rubbed it all over his shaft, shuffling closer to your ass and lining his cock up. Jackson leaned over your body, pressing one hand against the headrest and holding the chain of the nipple clamps inside his other hand. He pushed deeper into you, moaning and grunting the deeper he got. Once he was flush against your ass, Jackson took deep breaths. “Holding up alright?”

You mewled and nodded, not able to speak from the sensation.

“You think you can take more?”

You swallowed harshly, your mouth feeling suddenly so dry. You fantasised about it before and just the thought drove you to your edge already. “Yes”, you breathed and shut your eyes.

You gasped loudly before you clenched your teeth, hissing more than breathing when Jackson pushed your vibrator into your pussy.

Both of you groaned when he turned it on and the vibrations spread throughout your whole body. Jackson slowly moved his hips as well, trying to match the vibrations.

You cursed underneath your breath over and over again. The coil inside your stomach tightened with every thrust from Jackson. Your legs started to tremble violently while your insides spasmed slightly, too overwhelmed from all the sensations.

Jackson used the chance and shifted his hand from the headrest to your neck. He pushed your upper body further down and pressed his fingertips against the side of your throat, effectively cutting your blood flow. 

You felt delirious, hearing Jackson’s voice as if he spoke through clouds. The only word you successfully registered was his order for you to cum on his cock. He didn’t need to say that twice. Your vision went black, dozens of white spots popping up at the corners. You didn’t even feel your body anymore but as soon as you came down from your high all your muscles turned to jelly. You weren’t able to hold yourself up anymore and you felt too spent to even care that the handcuffs cut into your wrists now that you weren’t holding yourself up.

Jackson quickly took care of you, removing the toys and placing you more securely on the bed. He stood up and got some wet wipes and cleaned you up, murmuring soft praises whenever you whined. Once he finished the cleaning he draped a blanket over your naked form. He looked at your peaceful face, thinking you were already asleep when he leaned down and placed a kiss on your temple. “Thanks for summoning me.”

“You’re free to stay, you know?” You opened your eyes lazily and turned to look at him, smiling softly when you saw the light blush on his cheeks. “The cuddling after is sometimes just as great as the sex before.”

Jackson cocked an eyebrow. “Is that so?” He smirked and even though his words didn’t match up he already crawled behind you and wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you against his form. “We’ll see about that.”

© all rights reserved

[prettycottonmouthlamia]

I know this seems insane but let me walk you through it because it is actually really important.

Yes, the Psychic typing does have two of the best Pokemon in Generation I: Mewtwo, and Mew. But it's worth understanding why those Pokemon are good to understand why that's not as important. Starting with Mew, Mew is actually a Pokemon that I think would be considerably stronger as a Normal type rather than a Psychic type. You can use Mew as a Psychic type, but you'll have to grapple with the fact that Mew only has 100 Special, which is actually fairly middling for a Psychic type. If you want a Special Attacker, you're better off with Pokemon like Starmie, Exeggutor, Alakazam, Slowbro, or of course Mewtwo. So Mew differentiates itself by being the best Swords Dance user in the game, but it's lack of STAB physical moves keep it from being truly amazing. If Mew was a Normal type instead of a Psychic type, I think Mew would be Mewtwo level powerful.

Mewtwo is obviously insanely good too, but it is kind of a weird case. Mewtwo is primarily just a stat stick in RBY, and actually really doesn't benefit from a lot of RBY's quirks. It hates paralysis and doesn't benefit much from it because it's so fast, being frozen is one of the best ways of dealing with Mewtwo, and critical hits often lower its damage output. It's very fitting that Mewtwo is a genetic freak who relies on nothing but brute force compared to the rest of RBY, but it does make it a bit of an odd fit.

Now, in addition, one extremely good Psychic type does not make the Psychic type the best type. There are other good Psychic types, but they're not typically considered the best Pokemon of their metagames either. But I am not even going to address that yet. Let's go back in time to 1997.

The Red and Green Era: Keeping It Chilly

It's 1997. You're playing competitive Pokemon on live TV. What is the one Pokemon you know you're going to see a ton of? No, it's not Mewtwo, the format doesn't allow for him. It's not Alakazam either. You're going to see a lot of this fucker:

It's not just Jynx either, because you're going to see a lot of these two as well:

So what is going on? Well it's Pokemon Red and Green, and that means that the best typing in the game is the Ice-type. That might sound incredibly odd, because the Ice-type is generally one of the most maligned typings in all of Pokemon. But, there is a lot to like about it in the context of Gen I. Defensively, the Ice-type is quite solid, only having one relevant weakness and one resistance. Sure, you're weak to Rock Slide, but the most common users were Golem and Rhydon, and they're weak to Ice. Ice-types, defensively, actually were much closer to Psychic types than you would expect, especially since Fire and Fighting types were pretty awful all around.

In addition, it has one of the most insane buttons in all of Pokemon: Blizzard. 120 Base power, 90% accuracy, and a 10% chance to freeze. You can't thaw out naturally on your own in Gen I either, since you'll only thaw out if you're hit with a Fire-type move that can burn, and Fire-types are so universally bad that they don't see use. In 99% of games, Freeze is essentially a OHKO. Articuno's Blizzard, along with Zapdos's Thunder, Moltres's Fire Blast, and Exeggutor's Solarbeam, are actually the strongest unboosted special moves in the game. Articuno's Blizzard will deal more damage than Mewtwo's Psychic. It's crazy.

But I've buried the lede here, because this is Red and Green, the OG Gen I games, and Blizzard does not have a 10% chance to basically KO the opponent.

It has a 30% chance to freeze!

Red and Green Blizzard ranks as one of the most powerful moves in Pokemon period. Ice types not only got STAB on this move, making it do 50% more damage, but they had a really key and important defensive bonus too: they were immune to freeze. This made Ice-types basically mandatory. Which Ice-type you wanted to use depended on the format: in the bring 6, pick 3 format of the Spaceworld championships, Jynx was the clear contender, packing both the powerful Blizzard and the devastating Lovely Kiss. Jynx as a Pokemon could essentially threaten 2 KOs due to how debilitating Sleep is as a status ailment in Gen I, and with only 3 Pokemon, that's incredibly powerful. In a full 6v6 however, I think Articuno and Lapras are much more powerful thanks to their defensive presence and raw power.

How could you possibly stand up to Jynx? Well there was a way, and it's time to segway into what I think is truly the best typing in Generation I.

The Kings of Bullshit: The Plain Boys

Normal-types are at their absolute best in Generation I. Psychic types always have had to deal with a significant problem: they suck versus other Psychic types. When Psychic types are good, they need something to punish them, and that's initially where Normal types came in. It was well known even at Spaceworld that Tauros was one of the best Pokemon in the game. It's faster than most Pokemon in the game, great in a generation where your Speed stat determines your crit rate, and hits pretty hard. More importantly, Normal types got two incredibly good moves to use.

The first was Body Slam. Slightly weaker than Psychic or Ice Beam, Body Slam did good damage but came with a 30% chance to paralyze Pokemon who weren't Normal types on every hit. This made dealing with Tauros really difficult, as you always risked getting your Speed dropped. Critical hits were also a concern, because Tauros had the second powerful button the Normal type had.

Hyper Beam.

It's actually a little difficult to explain just how busted Hyper Beam was. The damage you take from Tauros's Hyper Beam basically determines when you can take risks. Hyper Beam still has its recharge turn in Generation I, but if you knock out the opposing Pokemon with it, you skip it. This makes Hyper Beam a really strong finisher, and with 150 Base Power, Hyper Beam is the king of damage dealing moves.

If you were Jynx, and your opponent had a free turn with Tauros, you were basically fucked. At Level 50, a critical hit Body Slam and a Hyper Beam both had chances to outright KO you on the spot. You basically had to switch out, and the constant looming threat of Tauros keeps Psychic type Pokemon in check. Unlike with Psychic type Pokemon, whose best answers are all good Pokemon (including Chansey, another Normal type), Normal type moves were only resisted by Rock-type Pokemon. While Rhydon is good and Golem is usable, they aren't anywhere near as good. They're slow and can be predicted on and hit with moves like Earthquake, Blizzard, or Surf.

There also was no physical sponge Pokemon. There was no counterpart for Chansey. While physically bulky Pokemon such as Cloyster existed, they could be worn down and predicted. They all lacked recovery outside of Rest, which eats up a number of turns. This isn't even going into the highest damage moves in the game, Self-Destruct and Explosion, which are also Normal type moves. The fact that Snorlax can explode in front of Mewtwo and KO it if Mewtwo switches into Body Slam or Earthquake is a big part as to why Snorlax is so good in Ubers.

Normal types just ended up having it really good. Psychic types are obviously good, and once you get past the three best Normal types in the game, you start seeing names like Starmie, Exeggutor, and Alakazam start to pop up. They're all quite strong Pokemon who have solid movepools, and each of these three Pokemon do different things. Normal types are often the best Pokemon in whatever tier they're in, and for good reason.

Always remember to put respect on the king of bullshit.

They never want to hear the "Psychic-type being the best typing in Gen I is historical revisionism" rant but it's still true

[self-loving-vampire]

I have previously commented on how Wizardry 7 is more enjoyable if you are masochistic. Well, what I encountered tonight serves as an incredible example of what I mean.

It is a boss called the Shadow Guardian.

To even reach this boss, you have to fall down a hole (which deals damage to you) to end up in a small area populated only by annoying monsters with relatively low XP values and no loot. Once you have ended up here, there is no way out until you kill the boss. No way to go back to town, get more consumables, or upgrade gear.

But this isn't too bad by itself. The real issue is the actual capabilities of the boss. Let's count them.

1- It is undead and therefore immune to around half of your spells.

2- Besides this, it also has extremely high elemental resistances. Even if you try to use simple offensive spells it will just be unaffected by them nearly all of the time.

3- Every turn, it will blink out for a while and then blink back in before attacking. While it is out, it cannot be targeted by physical attacks and magical attacks will just miss entirely. As a result, it has a good chance of negating about half of your attacks on every turn, on top of just having a high dodge rate.

4- It can cast Asphyxiation, which deals no damage but has a high chance of dealing instant death to the whole party. You can counter this by casting Air Pocket on the first round of the fight but even that is not entirely effective. If it casts this, there is a good chance someone will die.

While death can be fixed in this game, doing so causes a permanent loss of vitality and effectively ages them by a year.

5- It summons persistent clouds of poison gas that deal damage and poison to the whole party. Poison in this game has no upper limit to its duration so if you get poisoned enough that is functionally the same as death. There are spells that "cure" poison but they really only seem to decrease the duration, which would be insufficient even if you only had to cure one person rather than the whole party. If it casts this you pretty much already lost.

6- It can cast Lifesteal, dealing something between 600 and 900 damage and healing itself... This is a game where your characters will probably have between 30 and 100 HP by this point. Even your tankiest character is automatically dead if it does this.

7- It also has normal touch attacks that deal just a bit of damage, in the 10s or so... But it also inflicts the deadly paralysis debuff...

And also it has a high chance of permanently turning the target to into stone. Let's see what the manual says about that.

So... It carries the same permanent damage as death and might in fact be worse.

Literally anything it can do during its turn is reload-worthy if it goes off, and at the same time you can't meaningfully hurt it beyond just hoping that your melee characters will manage to hit it for damage in the single digits maybe thrice a round if you get lucky (and probably less than that).

I didn't struggle very much with Dark Souls or Elden Ring, but I acknowledge the strength of this adversary. I will not give up.

[pokemon-card-of-the-day]

Pokemon Card of the Day #2592: Raichu-GX (Shining Legends)

Raichu-GX was all about power. It had a stand-alone attack with a notable drawback and one that needed set-up but could be extremely strong with enough set-up. Lightning was a type with plenty of competition, as a Pokemon of the type had to stand out among a wide variety of choices as well as against Rayquaza-GX, which wasn’t Lightning-type but paired with them anyway. The strength here gave Raichu-GX a good chance, though the lack of extra perks did mean it would almost entirely rely on that to break through.

210 HP was good for a Stage 1 Pokemon-GX, being similar to most of its competition. It did have to look out a bit more than most, as Thunder did damage Raichu-GX when used and 180, while by no means frail, was starting to get in the range of strong boosted attacks and 150, if it got to that, wasn’t that reliable at all. The Fighting Weakness gave an opening to Lycanroc-GX and various other Pokemon of the type, with it mattering a lot in the BKT-On format and not nearly as much after the rotation to SUM-On. The Metal Resistance didn’t change too much, as nice as it was to see a Resistance when many Pokemon lacked one. Being able to retreat for just an Energy was quite nice as well.

Powerful Spark needed a lot of set-up to reach its potential, as the base damage was just 20 for 2 Colorless Energy. Each Lightning Energy attached to any of your Pokemon added 20. This could add up, and while it was hard to get up to numbers like 8 or more Energy in play, cards like Max Elixir, Pikachu & Zekrom-GX, Tapu Koko Prism Star, and Thunder Mountain Prism Star could certainly help get there. The other issue that, with all of the set-up needed, it was hard to outdo either Rayquaza-GX or Pikachu & Zekrom-GX as an attacker, with its chances better alongside the Tag Teams simply because Powerful Spark could technically reach even greater heights and Lightning had more support there.

Thunder did 160 damage for 2 Lightning and a Colorless Energy, which was very impressive. 30 damage to Raichu-GX was a pain as it made some damage numbers a lot easier to hit, though against some Pokemon you’d still be able to take a hit so it wasn’t completely going to destroy its bulk every time. You’d still need to be careful, especially in a potential Lightning-type mirror match as both Rayquaza-GX and Pikachu & Zekrom-GX could find ways to 180. The reliable damage came in handy rather often nonetheless.

The GX attack here, Voltail GX, did just 120 for 3 Energy, but also guaranteed Paralysis and had no drawback. There were probably better GX attacks in any deck you’d use Raichu-GX in even if the Paralysis could come in handy sometimes.

Raichu-GX was a strong attacker for a type that could provide it the Energy it needed, making it rather good. Lightning was also full of Pokemon to work with, with Pikachu & Zekrom-GX being mentioned for a reason here, being powerful and being able to help other Pokemon set up. The type also had Zapdos for single-Prize attacking, Zeraora-GX for free retreating, Jolteon-GX and Xurkitree-GX to wall certain things while still getting some damage off, and Raichu & Alolan Raichu-GX which gave up an extra Prize but was generally a better alternative in this role. It’s amazing that Raichu-GX, which was functionally rather good, almost never made it into a deck, but that was the reality of being a Lightning-type. Being rather good wasn’t enough there, and it would take one more Raichu card to get to that point.

[kookieswan]

I saw that your requests were still open, and I thought there’s no harm in asking!

I don’t know if you do ot7, but I do love myself some fluffy boys. If you’d rather a single member, I’ll leave it up to you! I have endometriosis, and I can never find comfort fics for endometriosis pain. I’d honestly just love a comfort fic for when y/n is having a flare up (as I am now unfortunately).

Personally a flare up with endo usually means; severe abdominal, back, and butt cramping (sexy right?), throwing up due to pain, shaking, sweating, fevers, and a feeling of complete paralysis. Honestly just unable to move due to the intense pain. And crying. Lots of that 😬

I’m sorry it’s a bit personal, but it’s be nice to see something written for this. I haven’t seen one before. I apologise if it was tmi, I just thought it would be easier than researching if you didn’t know some symptoms. I’ve never sent a request to someone before so I’m sorry if this isn’t how you do things!

If you don’t feel comfortable, that’s completely okay! Thanks so much for reading this Xx

HELLO! This is so late and I am so sorry about that. As someone who has abnormal periods, I know it can be hell. I picked Taehyung for this even though I do write OT7, mostly because he popped into my head first!

Since this is a LNT request it’s relatively short but the next time my requests are open for longer drabbles, feel free to send something similar in and I’d love to write it. Also, thank you for all the info, it helped!

Minor warning for talk of periods/period symptoms and pain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How are you feeling darling?” Glancing up from the tv, you will your eyes not to get too watery. Taehyung’s balancing a tea cup in one hand, one of your heating pads in the other. You’ve been feeling warm but who knows when the cramps will flare up again. It’s like your body is ripping itself apart from the inside at this rate for fun.

“Mmh, not great but it’s calmed down a bit.” Living with such horrible periods has never been easy, but Tae always does his best to make it better. Meds, water bottles and heating pads, cuddles, food; you name it and he’ll do it. He hands you the cup and you take a quick sip, grateful for the yummy beverage. He watches on quietly before shifting, gesturing to the bed.

“Want me to lay with you? I can make food or grab you-“ A small smile comes to Tae’s face as you make grabby hands at him, signaling for him to come closer. He crawls into bed after shedding his shirt and sitting the heating pad down. Like a magnet, you’re pulled closer to him, unable to resist his inviting cuddles. Resting your head on his chest, he wraps an arm loosely around you as to not trap you in one spot for too long.

“Alright, that comfy sweetheart?” You nod and hum, enjoying how close you are to your lovely boyfriend. Things might flare back up later, you’re sure they will, but you know Tae will always do his best to take care of you.

“Yes, thank you baby.”

[princepipper]

AAAA okay I will talk about my idea because drawing is proving to be hard when it is so hot in my room and I don't feel comfortable enough to focus.

I made up a Skyrim AU for Pip and Gabe!! I have thoughts about what race(s) they would be, how they'd meet, and some general story. Please read more if you are interested, and I will be drawing some things for this AU at some point. :^)

THIS IS GONNA BE LONG!!! SORRY!!!

Gabriel

Race: Imperial/ Wood Elf

Choice of Weaponry: Daggers, poisons

Best skills: Sneak, Speech, Pickpocketing, Lockpicking, Light Armor, One-Handed, Archery

Notable titles/ occupations: Member of the Thieves Guild, later becomes the Guild Master + Nightingale

Favourite Equipment: Daedric dagger with Absorb Health + Paralysis enchantment

___

Gabriel is a mix of Wood Elf and Imperial, his father being an Imperial and mother being a Bosmer. Gabriel inherited much of his father's appearance, the only real signs of his mixed race being his elf ears, slender-build, and animal affiliation abilities.

His family is a bit broken, due to the fact that his father is part of the Imperial Legion- not as a fighting soldier but as a politician, one who has great support for the Thalmor. His mother came from Valenwood, and her family was not one favoured by the High Elves. During a purge, she was only able to survive because of her engagement to Gabriel's father, which granted her some amount of protection from their judgement. Gabe doesn't know much about the details, but it is assumed his mother's family was eliminated by the Thalmor, leaving a deep grudge and bitter resentment within her heart. With so much conflict present even before he was born, it's safe to say that Gabe did not have a healthy home life, and was quick to leave when he was old enough to fend for himself.

Gabriel spent a portion of his youth travelling, and his methods of survival usually included thievery. He is light on his feet, able to move both quickly and quietly to steal from others without even being noticed. In the rare times he is caught, Gabe is capable of defending himself with the use of daggers, poisons, or mere wit. His persuasion and bribery skills are high, though he often prefers to keep to himself and stay away from others. With these talents, Gabriel eventually was led to the Thieves Guild in Skyrim, quickly fitting in without much trouble. With his parents in Cyrodiil, he felt very little attachment to anyone in his life, which only assisted him when it came to being a thief.

___

Pipper

Race: Nord

Choice of Weaponry: Sword and shield

Best skills: One-handed, Blocking, Heavy Armor, Alchemy, Restoration, Alteration

Notable titles/ occupations: The Last Dragonborn, Thane of Whiterun

Favourite equipment: Nordic amulet with 100% Resistance to Diseases + Fortify Healing Rate (This item was a gift from Gabe)

___

His way of life changed when he eventually met Pipper, who accidentally managed to not only ruin his mission a the time, but injure him in the process. Gabriel recalls waking up on a bedroll with Pipper sat nearby, having taken the time to heal his wounds and cook a meal as an apology. Gabe was initially annoyed at her for what had happened, but he had a hard time staying angry at her due to her cheerful and comforting demeanour. Not to mention the fact that she was quite talented with alchemy, and offered to make him any potions or poisons he could ever need. Gabriel admittedly was not very skilled at that sort of thing himself, and he supposed that she could be useful to him at the very least...

Naturally, the more time they spent together, the more they bonded. Pipper might have been a soft-hearted girl, but she certainly didn't show that in battle. Unlike Gabe, she preferred to charge headfirst into combat, hitting hard and heavy to win her fights. She was not one to fall victim to recklessness, however, and proved rather smart when it came to analyzing her opponents and finding weaknesses. It was funny, Gabe being a sneaky thief and Pipper being a respected warrior, but the two got along very well and spent time questing together, learning more about each other as they went.

It eventually became clear that Pipper was not just a strong nordic fighter, but a Dragonborn, which was revealed during a dragon attack in Whiterun. Gabe had not been there at the time, but instead ran into Pip when she was on her way to meet the Greybeards at High Hrothgar. He was understandably skeptical of her claim to be Dragonborn, but quickly believed her when she demonstrated her Thu'um.

Destiny led the two of them down different paths, Gabriel taking on the challenges of the Thieves Guild and unrooting the corruption and deceit caused by Mercer Frey. Pipper meanwhile was caught up with trying to handle being Dragonborn, and being tasked with protecting the world from Alduin. Ultimately, the two of them helped each other when they could, and when all was said and done, they found one another amidst the settling dust. Gabriel, Master Thief and leader of the Guild, had taken his oath to the Daedric Prince Nocturnal, and become a Nightingale. Pipper had finally destroyed Alduin once and for all, and decided to use her powers to establish harmony where she could, ignoring the requests of The Blades and hoping to find peace between mortal-kind and dragons.

In the end, Pip and Gabe settled for the most part, building a home in the south-eastern hills of Skyrim, not far from Riften and Ivarstead. They of course still attend to their own business, but after years of fighting, it's nice for them to have a place to rest and enjoy each other's company in private. 💕

Some other notes:

Gabe's Bosmer blood keeps him immune to diseases/ poison, and allows him to call upon wild animals to aide him. He doesn't use this power very often, but at times he can be found in the woods with crows and ravens surrounding him.

While Gabriel is talented at bribery and persuasion, he struggles greatly with personal charm. Pip sometimes teases him, finding it funny how he can be sharp-tongued in business but a stuttering mess in social functions.

Gabe hates taverns and inns. He only stops in to buy food, but never stays long- the noise from the bards and drunkards piss him off.

Pipper isn't as talented as Gabe when it comes to thieving skills, but is actually pretty decent at picking locks! She only really does so when in dungeons with locked doors.

Pip has a lot of friends in Skyrim, especially in the Whiterun province. One of her favourite places to visit is Riverwood, where she will spend lots of time by the clear waters that flow from the lake. She enjoys fishing, but doesn't actually eat fish.

Pip enjoys cooking and camping, and often shows exasperation at Gabriel's tendencies to eat literally anything when out in the wilderness (from raw meat to insects...) He can't cook well at all, so he enjoys the meals he is served when Pip is around.

I have so many WIPs and ideas, but also like... what if I just had a new idea for a drawing and did that instead...

[monstersdownthepath]

Monster Spotlight: Breathless Orchid

CR 2

Neutral Medium Plant

Module: Gallows of Madness, pg. 58

Beautiful, multicolored plants typically Camouflaged into appearing harmless by their striking colors and healthy green leaves, the stunning sight of a Breathless Orchid alone tends to lure in inquisitive and unsuspecting creatures. However, as their name suggests, the beauty of a Breathless Orchid is quite literally breathtaking, and the plants are most often found atop the bodies of their past victim, something spotted all too late as the entire thing becomes ambulatory and launches itself straight onto the face of the first creature to draw close.

Feeding exclusively on oxygen itself, Breathless Orchids can sometimes be found clinging to other, larger plants where their tentacle-like roots soak up the fresh oxygen produced by the host plants. While one would think that a plant that feeds primarily on oxygen would be harmless, considering the gas’ abundance on Golarion, this is unfortunately not the case (though maybe there’s a non-parasitic variant somewhere?), as the Orchids much prefer to parasitically extract that good, high-quality, straight-from-the-vein oxygen rather than the garden-variety, mass-produced stuff they have in the atmosphere. And how do they get it? By shoving their invasive roots where they don’t belong.

The sole offensive maneuver a Breathless Orchid has to obtain its sweet, sweet oxy is a single slam attack dealing only 1d4 damage. The Orchids don’t want to kill anything with their slam, though, because they’d much prefer to Attach to whatever they slam into with their strong, sinewy leaves. Once attached, victims must contend with its +10 to grapple checks as it locks itself firmly around their bodies and shoves its roots into their skin, mouths, and noses to drink the air from their bodies. The oxygen extracted from living creatures is especially nutritious to the Orchid, which gains Fast Healing 2 so long as it begins its turn attached to a living creature, at which point it begins to use Extract Air, potentially spelling the end for its victim in 6 rounds.

A creature with an Orchid attached to them must succeed a DC 13 Fortitude save or be staggered for three rounds as the roots invade their system... And once that time ends, they have to succeed another DC 13 save each round the Orchid stays attached or fall unconscious, at which point they can no longer breathe unassisted or make Fort saves to resist the asphyxiation, meaning they have only 2 rounds of life before the Orchid completely soaks all the oxygen from their body and kills them immediately.

While an instant death attack that works against any living creature may seem extreme, keep in mind a few details: It takes 6 rounds to work, the Orchid has no defensive abilities or Resistances aside from those afforded to the Plant type (in fact, it loses 3 AC and doesn’t even cause its grappled target to take damage!), AND the Orchid only has a 10ft movement speed in the first place, meaning the party has to basically be standing on top of it for it to initiate. Counteracting its own grapple check also allows the victim to tear free from it, but there’s nothing stopping the grappled target from just wailing on it with their weapon anyway to cut through its meager 19 HP.

While having the air sucked from your lungs is unpleasant no matter what level you’re at, the Orchids are really only a threat if the party has been divided into smaller groups by outside forces due to its nonexistent damage, 6-round-to-be-effective tactics, and lack of defense. If a DM really wants to terrify a party with the Orchid when they’re above 4th level, have a bunch of them ambush the party at a time, or have them living symbiotically with a more powerful Plant creature with some sort of paralysis ability, hurling the clinging flowers at victims who’ve succumbed to the stunning effect.

You can read more about them here.

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 6

@pocketramblr another :)

.

Shouta trudged back to the staff break room. His counseling session with Midoriya had lasted a little over an hour, so while there were still teachers in the building, many of them had left. With the exception of semi-retired heroes like Recovery Girl, everyone working here had two full time jobs. Hizashi, despite his carefree air, had even more than that in the form of his radio show. Hizashi had probably left with the students.

But Hizashi wasn't either of the ones he wanted to talk to. Not today.

He opened the door. Three, no, four teachers were there, but Snipe didn't count, seeing as he was completely passed out on one of the couches with his gas mask half off. He must have had an early shift patrol today, poor sucker.

Nemuri was there, too, with most of her hero outfit on. She was applying her hero-grade makeup (water proof, resistant to three common contact poisons, and guaranteed not to react badly with mace).

More importantly, Kan and Yagi were both there, poring over papers on the same desk, no less. Shouta walked up to the table and looked down at sheets and sheets full of incomprehensible numbers.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"We-"

'Don't tell him!" said Kan, urgently. "This is going to be my class's leg up on Aizawa this time around."

"Haha! Good one!" Yagi slapped Kan's back, and apparently even in his skeletal form he could pack a punch, because Kan had the air knocked out of him. Before he could recover, Yagi continued, "I'm making personalized nutrition plans for his class!"

"What?"

"One of my undergraduate degrees was in nutritional and health sciences, after all!"

Wow, there was a lot to unpack there, but Shouta was more than happy to leave it in its box. He had other fish to fry and topics to interrogate. Small talk requirement fulfilled, he moved on.

"How well do you know Midoriya?"

Yagi blinked and put down his pencil. "Moderately so? We met about this time last year and have been meeting regularly since then."

So, so much to unpack.

"Why?"

"Ah, he... impressed me, I suppose? He was involved in the bodysnatcher incident last year."

That was an understatement.

"He had a lot of heroic spirit!" continued Yagi. "But... not so much in the, ah, body category. I thought it would be a shame, a waste, really, if he wasn't able to pursue his dream, and a hero school prep course wasn't really in the cards for him, considering his quirk status and the timing... And I did have this degree..." He waved his hands vaguely at the table. "I just gave him a little help."

"What brought all this on, anyway?" asked Nemuri. "Midoriya is the little green haired kid, right? One of Chibiida's new friends?"

"If you keep calling him that, I won't be held responsible for when he snaps and attempts murder. But, yes, that's Midoriya."

"So...?"

"He told me I was the best teacher he'd ever had."

Nemuri started laughing.

"Oh," said Yagi. "I'm glad the two of you are getting along so well."

"I think he's pulling your leg, Shouta," said Nemuri, coming over to pat him on his shoulder. "Man, I didn't think a friend of Chibiida's would have it in him. Such youth!"

"I cannot even begin to tell you how much he wasn't."

Nemuri's laughter died off.

"Judging from some comments he made today," said Shouta, "not to mention the discrepancies between his record and his observed behavior in the classroom, I'd say he's been the target of severe quirkism in the past, particularly from his teachers. Did he ever mention anything like that to you?"

Yagi's face darkened and the mood in the room grew much more somber. "Not in so many words, no. However... some of his comments about his teachers disturbed me enough to bring it to the attention of the Musutafu Educational Services District, but as an unrelated stranger without concrete proof..."

("You can use the acronym, you know," muttered Vlad.)

"You're telling me they ignored the number one hero."

Yagi made a face. "I didn't go to them as All Might. Can you imagine the media frenzy if I did that? I didn't want to paint that kind of target on young Midoriya's back."

That was fair, actually. If largely-anonymous Shouta had enemies, All Might had ten times as many. Not to mention supposed fans.

"Other avenues of inquiry were also fruitless," said All Might, countenance darkening. "I asked some of my police colleagues, but they don't have full discretion over the direction of their investigations, and, again, if I were to use my weight to move them... It would get out, and people would wonder why I was so concerned with an apparently normal middle school."

"Did you try talking to Nezu about it?"

"No? Why?"

Shouta reminded himself that although Yagi was an alumnus, he was also very new as a teacher, and was as of yet unfamiliar with Nezu's more interesting traits.

"I'm going to," said Shouta, "and you're going to come with me." He turned to Kan. "Have you heard anything from Bakugo about quirk discrimination?"

"All I've heard from him are explosions, threats, and some kind of complex I don't have nearly enough psychiatric training to- They're from the same school," he realized.

"Yeah."

Kan pinched his brow. "So, the sweet shy kid you keep gushing about-" Both Shouta and Yagi attempted to reassure Kan they weren't gushing, "-and the demon brat are from the same school."

"That is what their records say," agreed Shouta. "Did you know, Yagi?"

"Oh, that they knew each other? Yes. Actually, I was rather under the impression they were childhood friends, as Midoriya ran out to help him during the bodysnatcher incident."

Shouta grunted. It was possible. He hadn't seen the two of them interact, at any rate.

"I'm going to Nezu with you," said Kan, standing up. "No matter what else this hell school did, they deserve to suffer for inflicting Bakugo Katsuki on me with those recommendations full of lies."

"Why don't you just expell him if he's that bad?"

"Because he's talented, hardworking, and hasn't actually broken any rules except for the swearing. He's just a pain I wasn't prepared to deal with and will probably contribute more to my hearing loss than Yamada by the end of the year."

"Wait, wait," said Yagi. "What exactly are you expecting Nezu to do in this situation?"

"Well," said Nemuri, who still hadn't left yet, "let's just say there's a reason hid name is 'god' in the staff group chat."

.

Terrible did not even begin to describe how Izuku felt when he woke up. His skin was static. His mouth was dry in a way that hurt. It felt like a siren was going off in his brain, and also like it was too quiet. He wanted to both run all the way to the school and hide in his closet.

This, of course, left him paralyzed in bed.

He hadn't felt remotely like this since the first time someone had left spider lilies on his desk at school. What was wrong with him?

No, that was the wrong question. All signs pointed to him having Danger Sense. He was in danger. And also immobile in bed.

With a great deal of effort, he turned to his bedside table and grabbed his phone. The clock in the corner read 4:42. Far too early to call anyone. And yet...

With shaky fingers, he navigated to Mr. Yagi's contact information and pressed dial. To Izuku's surprise, it only rang once.

"Young Midoriya? Is something wrong?"

The sound of his voice loosened the terrible knot under Izuku's breastbone. "I- May-maybe? I don't- I don't know, I think so."

There were sounds of movement on the other side of the line. "What happened?"

"I just- just woke up, and I- I think it's Danger Sense. It- Something bad is going to happen."

"I'm on my way. Is your mother with you?"

"N-no. She's at a- at a tech conference in Tokyo. She won't be back until- until tomorrow. Mr. Yagi, I don't- I don't think it's something here. I think it's later... at the school."

There was a pause. "My boy, are you quite sure?"

Izuku's laugh was just a little hysterical. "I mean, I'm- I'm pretty new to this, but..." he'd like to think his flight or fight reflex would have a more constructive response to am immediate threat. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have woken you up, I should have waited-"

"Nonsense! Forewarned is forearmed, and time is one of the most valuable resources a hero can have! I'm still picking you up, I'll just-" Mr. Yagi coughed, "-take the car instead."

"The car? You mean Hercules!?" The excitement was enough to free Izuku from his paralysis and propel him into a sitting position.

"Well, yes, but, my boy, how did you know? I don't think I've ever mentioned the name in my interviews..."

"But you did! In one of your American interviews. It was for a local station and you and Mr. Shield were on together."

"But those were in English."

"I know! When I found out about them, it really motivated me to work on my English! I think I could probably pass the Level Two fluency test..."

"Young Midoriya, have I ever told you how glad I am that you aren't a villain?"

.

"Hikage, did Danger Sense ever make you feel this bad?" asked Nana as Yoichi fussed in the background.

"Super Anxiety made me feel this bad all the time. Sometimes, it made me feel worse. I got used to it."

Nana let out a sigh of relief. It sucked to Ninth right now, but if it was normal for the quirk...

"That's good, then," said En. "Not for Ninth, obviously, but if that's just how the quirk works, he'll be able to figure it out. What did it usually mean, when you felt like this?"

"Generally, that someone was planning on killing me in the next few hours."

Dead(er than usual) silence.

"Ah," said En.

"You know," said Nana, "sometimes the kinds of lives we led slips my mind, but then the universe is always real happy to turn around and slap it back into me."

Yoichi started screeching.

.

"Do you feel any worse now that we're here?" asked Mr. Yagi after shutting Hercules down.

"Not really," said Izuku. He slumped down in his seat and looked away. "I'm sorry, I dragged you out of bed and this is probably just a stupid pointless meaningless panic attack..." He felt tears begin to prick at the edges of his eyes. He was so stupid. And selfish. All Might could be out helping people right now. Or taking care of himself (which, according to Recovery Girl's comments during their training sessions, he didn't do nearly enough of).

"Hey, hey, there's no need to cry, it's alright."

"Because you're here?" asked Izuku with a sniffle.

"Well, yes, but also, even if it was 'just' a panic attack, I'd still want to be here for you." He reached across the central console to pat Izuku on the shoulder. Then his face twisted into something rather sheepish. "But on the subject of panic attacks, something did occur to me on the way here."

Izuku looked back down at his knees. "What is it?"

"This is the anniversary of the day we met."

Izuku... had known that, actually. Waking up as he had had driven it from his mind, but the date was marked on his calendar. He'd even gotten All Might a gift, although he hadn't yet talked himself into being brave enough to give it to him, and with what happened today, it would most likely languish in his desk drawer for an indefinite period of time as the idea of giving it became progressively more awkward.

"My boy? I can't quite make out what you're saying. You're mumbling."

Izuku clapped his hands over his mouth. "Sorry."

"It's quite alright. I'm just an old man with hearing problems."

"You're not old! It's... I just- I just don't see how- how that's connected to this." He gestured at himself in all his vaguely-trembling glory.

"Young Midoriya... you almost died three separate times that day. That's traumatic. And sometimes anniversaries are... reminders."

"I only almost died once?"

"The first time with the sludge villain, grabbing on to my leg- and I don't think I ever apologized for telling you to let go, I was just so surprised- and then the sludge villain again."

"But I only almost died the first time..." He trailed off as Mr. Yagi gave him a look. He'd thought his mother was the only one who could give looks like that... "Do you really think this is connected to that?"

"I don't know," said Mr. Yagi. "Do you feel like it might be?"

"I don't know," said Izuku. He bent over and knotted his fingers in his hair.

"Do you think it might help to stay home today?"

"No!" yelped Izuku. "No," he repeated, trying to calm his racing heart.

"Alright, alright. Never fear, my boy." Mr. Yagi gave him another steadying shoulder pat. "In that case, let's go into this with the assumption that this is danger sense, and it is attempting to warn you of a real threat."

"Okay," said Izuku. He rubbed at his eyes. "What do we do first?"

Mr. Yagi tensed and looked up at the top floors of UA. "Well..."

.

"Hm!" said Nezu. "That is something of a conundrum! The extent of your quirk is unclear, and it is not properly registered, so we cannot go through the official routes we normally would for a warning given through a precognitive or clairvoyant quirk, even given that we are aware of One for All and the probable nature of Danger Sense."

Nezu knowing about One for All had been a bit of a surprise. In retrospect, maybe it shouldn't have been. All Might would have had to tell Nezu something so that Izuku was allowed on campus before he was really a student, and seeing as how All Might was originally teaching here to find a successor... well, it made sense. Izuku just wished he'd been told.

How many other people knew was a question for later, however.

"Your inexperience with the quirk and other circumstances further complicates the matter."

"Sorry," said Izuku.

"Whatever for? It isn't your fault." Nezu did not wait for an answer. "Then there is yesterday's incident to consider... You say you felt something with the reporters?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"Hm. Yes. Toshinori, I so believe you have a contact who could clear this up much more efficiently."

"I know," said Mr. Yagi. "He isn't picking up his phone."

"You don't think-?" started Izuku.

"No, no, he just hasn't been speaking to me lately."

"Oh? I was under the impression you had been communicating with him regularly since returning to Musutafu."

"He thought I would change my mind about something I didn't change my mind about, apparently. It doesn't matter. What else can we do?"

"A good number of things, luckily. Midoriya, I am going to make a series of phone calls. I would like you to tell me if the sensation you are experiencing changes at all while I make them."

"Yes, sir."

Nezu began methodically going through Izuku's list of teachers, warning them that something 'like yesterday' might happened and going over lesson plans and safety procedures. Nothing really changed. Until Nezu called Thirteen.

(Oh, gosh, they were going to go to the Unforeseen Simulation Joint on a field trip today? That was so cool!)

But after Nezu talked to Thirteen about checking safety systems, a little bit of the tension he'd been holding onto leaked away.

"Interesting," said Nezu. "Perhaps we should reschedule rescue training until-"

Izuku dove for Nezu's garbage bin.

"-or perhaps not," mused Nezu as Izuku expelled the meager contents of his stomach.

It was a good thing he hadn't eaten breakfast.

.

"Hikage," said Banjo. "I'm sorry for calling you a dead-eyed emotionally stunted bastard with a warped sense of humor if this is what you had to put up with all the time."

"You called me a dead-eyed emotionally stunted bastard?"

"Not to your face, but yes."

"Well. It isn't as if those things aren't all true..."

.

"I'm okay," said Izuku. "That just... felt bad."

"No cancelations in that case," said Nezu as Mr. Yagi hovered.

"Y-yeah. Oh gosh, now I know how Uraraka feels..."

"Perhaps you should stay home-"

"No! I can't! That would be..."

Nezu held up his hands- paws? "It was merely a suggestion. Can I offer you some tea?"

"Yes, please," said Izuku, voice catching uncomfortably on his raw throat.

"I do have a few more calls to make. Do you feel up to staying, or would you prefer to head down to Recovery Girl? Or perhaps even the cafeteria? I imagine you haven't eaten breakfast."

"I'd like to stay."

"Very well." Nezu picked up his phone again. Izuku could just make out the click on the other end when it was picked up. "Am I a mouse? A dog? A bear? One thing's for sure! I'm the principal!" There was laughter on the other end of the line. "No, not at all! I am in fact calling for you, Tensei. Or should I say, Ingenium? I'm aware this is last minute, and you were planning on taking the day off- How do I know? It was quite simple, really- but between the break-in yesterday and a tip I received this morning regarding a threat to the school, I would like a few more hands on deck than usual. Why, yes, you can stay with your brother's class. Do try not to tease Shouta too much. He has a reputation to maintain." After a few more pleasantries, Nezu hung up. "Midoriya?"

"I... think that's better? I'm sorry, it's hard to tell what could be the quirk and what's just me feeling bad."

Nezu nodded. "In that case, I do recommend that you head to Recovery Girl's office. My other calls will be similar, and the other heroes will not be with your class."

"Why not?" asked Mr. Yagi.

"Because Midoriya's reaction to the field trip being canceled suggests that the danger may not be limited to himself or his class. Oh! And one more thing. Midoriya, I noticed that you put in some costume alteration requests. Naturally, most of them will not be finished until some time next week, however, some of the support items you mentioned are fairly common. If you have time before the field trip, you should pay a visit to Power Loader."

.

Izuku hadn't expected it, but he did feel much better after eating, despite his continuing sense of impending doom. It was also about half an hour from the beginning of homeroom, so he had the time to go to the support department and check if they had anything he could take.

He hoped they had grappling hooks. Izuku had always wanted a grappling hook.

Mr. Yagi took him most of the way there, but students had started to arrive at this point, and Izuku convinced him to go prepare for classes (and hide in the staff area so that no one would wonder why he, a skeleton man not recognizable as a hero, was at the school). Before too long, Izuku stood in front of a rather sturdy-looking metal door. He hoped this was the right one.

He raised his hand to knock just as something crashed into him. Ah. This was it for sure. The way he would die. The danger he had foreseen.

No. Wait. Never mind. He was fine, just on the ground.

"Oh! There was a person there! You okay?"

"U-um," said Izuku, sitting up and rubbing his head. "I'm fine, just a little startled."

"What're you doing here, anyway?"

"I- I'm here for... support... gear?" He sort of trailed off as he looked up.

It was the intense pink haired girl from the other day. As he watched, her expression changed from one of mild concern to calculating interest.

"Support gear, you say?"

.

Shouta answered his phone as he walked down the hall. "Nezu, I've already done every security check I can think of that'll fit-"

"Not quite why I was calling, although I can see why you would think so. One of your students needs to be rescued from the support department."

Shouta changed direction without missing a beat. "It's Midoriya, isn't it?"

"Why, yes."

"Did you send him down there without warning him?"

"Yes, again. You know me so well!"

Shouta hung up.

[foilfreak]

Beauty and Her Beast: Chapter 3

Warning: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

(Link to ao3 version in comments below)

“Going off the information I have listed here, it appears as though you’ll be receiving subject N-45, today. She’s a healthy 22 year old female. Her short, but muscular body weighs 95lbs with a childish height of 4’10” tall. She possesses primarily Romanian and Filipino ancestry, with some Dutch or Finnish or... whatever, thrown in there as well. And according to the various items we found on her person when she was first brought in, she’s apparently a graduate student at the University of Bucharest, or, at least she was, before she drove her car into a tree while driving up the mountain and was recovered by Heisenberg” Miranda explains robotically, reading aloud from a piece of paper held inside a thick manila envelope. “Of the 4 remaining test subjects, N-45 is easily the most violent and difficult one to work with, having to be either anesthetized or restrained every time I wanted to so much as take her vitals or stabilize her condition. When given smaller doses of sedatives she-”

For the first time in his entire life, Salvatore completely ignores whatever unimportant nonsense Mother Miranda is going on about, continuing to take in and analyze the strikingly unique appearance of the young woman before him.

Upon first inspection, N-45 appeared to resemble that of a normal woman in just about every way possible. Her hair was scruffy and very short, barely long enough to reach her eyes, and a deep black color that looked so soft and luxurious that Salvatore ached to run his fingers through it. Her face was slightly round, giving the young woman a very youthful appearance, with her sharp jawline and prominent cheekbones being some of the only things keeping Salvatore from mistaking her for a child. And lastly, her... figure, if Salvatore had to put such an embarrassing idea into words, was similar to that of Mother Miranda, only shorter, more compact even. It reminded the hooded man of those small packets of candy Duke occasionally gifted him that said “fun sized” on the label, in reference to them being much smaller than the standard sized candy bars and yet somehow being… better, despite technically giving you less candy.

She was already perfect as she was, but it was not just N-45’s beautiful human features that pulled Salvatore in and refused to let him escape the stupefaction he’d been placed under, but also her mutations.

A soft royal blue coated her from head to toe, giving way only to a large patch of solid white located on her chest and stomach. Her skin catches the light in a way that reveals areas of tiny overlapping scales, glimmering like stars in the midnight sky, or freshly polished armor, perhaps, along the bony ridges and tender curves of her figure.

Small white dots distributed like paint splatters across the colored sections of her flesh give a similar visual effect as freckles, starting from her hairline and extending all the way down to the very tips of her toes. These galaxies of white were invisible only on the white patch along the front of her torso, as well as on the lighter blue hue taken on by both the palms and webbings of her hands and feet.

Long Fin-like extensions grew along both her forearms and lower back. The former extended outward and inward like a windshield wiper, likely used to decrease water resistance. The latter, however, perhaps used to increase fine motor maneuverability while swimming at greater speeds or in tighter spaces, grew straight downwards from her lower back in an overlapping fan configuration that marginally covered her rear end, though not by very much. The fins looked like a soft, delicate material that was probably very flexible but very durable, if Salvatore had to guess just from looking.

And to top everything off, N-45 even appeared to even have gills, 2 different sets by the looks of it. The first set of 3 breathing slits was located horizontally along both sides of her neck, while the second set could be found on both sides of her torso, following the downward angle of her ribs but stopping just underneath her soft, plump-looking breasts.

Salvatore feels a sudden wave of heat cascade over his body and he turns his face away in shameful embarrassment as he suddenly realizes that N-45, much like every test subject undergoing cadou treatment, was still very, very nude at the present moment.

“I can’t make any promises regarding her disposition, but physically speaking, she’s ready to be released to you whenever you’d like. I’ll have some of the villagers transport and release her into the reservoir later this week” Mother Miranda says, pressing a button to close the pod now that Salvatore was no longer staring at her.

“W-wait just a m-moment” Salvatore calls out, prompting Mother Miranda to halt the closing of the pod.

“Yes? What is it?” The woman asks curtly, clearly not wanting to stand here and watch Salvatore any longer than she has to.

Wringing his hands together nervously, Salvatore meekly asks, “C-could… could y-you wake h-her up… s-so that I can s-speak with her… j-just for a m-moment?”

Mother Miranda remains silent for a moment, blank face staring directly at Salvatore as she contemplates what to do.

“No, Moreau,” she says finally. “I’ve had a very busy day today and I'm quite tired. N-45 is a menace that I struggle to deal with even on my best days. The last thing I need is something going wrong and her getting out and causing all sorts of chaos.”

Salvatore’s shoulders slump in disappointment, but he makes no further attempts to argue.

Mother Miranda rolls her eyes at the incredibly childish display, walking over to place a gentle hand on Salvatore’s head. “Would it make you feel better if I agreed to have N-45 be the first of the subjects to be dropped off? It’ll be more difficult than my original plan, but I suppose it was a bit unfair that you were the only one who didn’t get to “pick” their gift.”

“Yes, M-Mother Miranda… I-I’d like th-that very… very m-much” Salvatore says, leaning into the touch as Mother Miranda begins guiding him back toward the hallway leading to the exit door.

It wasn’t until after Miranda had exited the lab and begun walking down the long hallway toward the exit that Salvatore dared cast another glance back at the pod that contained N-45, wistfully thinking of how amazing her hand had felt in his, and how much he wanted to speak to her.

Just as the disfigured man was about to turn back and follow Miranda out of the laboratory, a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, prompting Salvatore to tense and snap toward the 4 pods, frantically trying to figure out what it was he saw. A few seconds of stillness pass before Salvatore sees movement again, not freely moving about the room like he originally expected, but from within one of the 4 pods, his pod to be exact.

His curiosity momentarily outweighing his nerves, Salvatore slowly approaches the metal capsule, trying to get a look through the small pane of glass that allows visual access into the holding pod.

Another flash of movement has Salvatore flinching, jumping back as though he’d been advanced upon. After several seconds of stillness, however, the hooded man regains his confidence and once again inches his way toward the capsule, moving his head up and down to try and get one more glimpse at N-45 before he has to leave. One last look before she lays eyes upon his vile and disgusting body for the first time, screaming and calling him a monster as she runs away, leaving him alone and without anyone to call his own. Just like always.

“ Hello ?”

Salvatore froze dead in his tracks, his heart pounding and his lungs refusing to take in air, as a soft, muffled, questioning voice reaches the deformed man’s ears, followed by two golden orbs with narrow black slits running vertically through the center, that slowly peek into view from the bottom of the glass window. Salvatore’s eyes widen in shock as he quickly realizes that the orbs of gold are not, in fact, just spheres of color, but rather a pair of eyes, staring intently at him from inside the pod.

“Uuuuuh… u-u-uuum… I-i… I w-was just…” the disfigured man stuttered as he struggled to move his body, seemingly paralyzed by the bewitching gaze currently locked onto him, looking at him with an intensity that makes Salvatore wonder if this is what it feels like to be a cell put under a microscope.

It isn’t until Salvatore notices the golden orbs moving and shifting from one corner of the window pane to the other that the hooded man realizes, to his immediate horror, that he might not be the only one trying to get a better look at the figure located on the other side of the pod door. Panic and fear immediately fill Salvatore from deep within, growing strong enough to allow him to finally overcome his temporary paralysis and skitter away from view. Pulling his hood even further over his petrifyingly grotesque face in shame of himself, Salvatore flees the laboratory as quickly as his hobbled limp would allow.

His heart pounds to the beat of the soft, but desperate pleas of protest coming from N-45’s pod in response to Salvatore’s rapidly retreating form, yet the hooded man cannot bring himself to believe what he hears as true. Perhaps believing that the siren-like voice he hears echoing off the metal laboratory walls to be nothing more than a trick of his sick and lonely mind, Salvatore does not stop, nor does he turn back around until he’s met up with Mother Miranda at the exit to the surface, lungs burning and legs aching from running for so far and long.

“Oh, there you are, Moreau,” Mother Miranda says suddenly, stopping just before they are about to exit the laboratory. “I’m glad you chose this time to finally catch up, because I just realized a second ago that I’d forgotten to give you N-45’s previous name. You can name her something else if you’d prefer, of course, but I offered the information to your siblings so I suppose I should offer it to you as well. Would you still like to know N-45’s name, or would you rather abandon her given name for one of your own choosing?”

After a few seconds of silent contemplation, Salvatore lifts his head, “I… I-i would like to k-know… her n-name… please...” the mutant man says softly.

Mother Miranda briefly raises a questioning eyebrow at Salvatore’s nervous body language, but ultimately rolls her eyes and shrugs her shoulders, all but tossing the Manila envelope containing N-45’s information at the hooded man before disappearing out the large metal door.

“If you’re going to read that now, feel free, but return to the meeting room once you're done. And be sure to lock the door to my laboratory behind you” Miranda commands, her voice having grown echoey due to how far away she now was.

“Yes, M-Mother” Salvatore calls after her as he scrambles to catch the thrown file and prevent any loose papers from falling out. Once he’s got a solid handle on the thick envelope, he opens it, casting a quick glance back in the direction of the pod room, where Nadine and the other 3 gifts were being held for the time being.

Returning to the file, Salvatore frantically flips through every page, trying to find the one that held N-45’s personal background information.

After several minutes of desperate flipping back and forth, Salvatore finally focuses on one particular piece of paper that looked to have been in the file for the longest. Pulling out the particular page he’d found, the disfigured man drops the rest of the folder onto the ground and begins rapidly skimming through the information printed on the page, his hungry eyes refusing to stop until they finally zeroed in on the information he’d been looking for.

Project: E.V.A. Resurrection

Subject: N-45

Parasite Administered: Cadou (Series- N; Strain- 45)

Family Name: Bogdan

Given Name: Nadine

“N… Nadine” Salvatore said slowly, feeling slightly lightheaded and out of breath as each individual letter of the young woman’s name rolled off his tongue like Camembert cheese; smooth, creamy, decedent, and likely to keep him up all night with an upset stomach and a racing heartbeat.

Nadine. Nadine. Nadine. Nadine. Nadine. Nadine. Nadine. Nadine. Nadine. Nadine. Nadine.

The name quickly became a broken loop played over and over and over again inside Salvatore’s head, his mind unable, or rather unwilling, to think of anything else as he read, reread, and then re-reread Nadine’s name at least 100 times, before finally setting the piece of paper down.

“Nadine...” Salvatore breathes the name once again, his voice carrying a wistful tone. “E-even your n-name is wonderful...”

An already beautiful woman, made even more perfect through the power of science and Mother Miranda’s grace, only for all that potential to end up wasted in the hands of a desperately lonely and horrifically mangled fish mutant, who was more likely to accidentally dissolve her in stomach acid than woo her like some kind of aquatic Prince Charming.

“Y-ya right... e-e-even with a-another mutant… I’m s-still so disgusting a-an… and horrifying in comparison… n-not even my o-own kind can b-bring thems-themselves to love me f-for who I a-am… not th-that there’s much of m-me that’s worth l-loving to begin w-with” Moreau laments to himself, wondering if it was even worth holding out hope that things with Nadine could go his way. As if one look at his monstrous form wouldn’t be enough to ruin everything Salvatore already has an agonizingly low chance of ever having with that magnificent specimen of a woman.

Even with Nadine’s own external mutations making it clear that she was no longer fully human, her form had still retained such a beautifully strong, yet womanly shape to it, and her face still looked so young and innocent despite everything that she’s been through. Someone as beautiful as her was far too good and pure to be tainted by his filthy hands.

‘Maybe I should just kill her when the villagers arrive with her at the gate? At least then... I could say I put her out of her misery before she had to experience it for herself…’ Salvatore sulks mentally.

However, despite the self degrading thoughts running through his mind, the memory of the curious look Nadine’s shockingly bright and mesmerizing golden eyes held when trying to look at Salvatore through the pod window made the hooded man shiver, having never been looked upon in such an innocently curious manner before. Most people who got that close to Salvatore didn’t even need to see his face in order to start screaming and running away in terror. However, if the deformed man allowed himself a brief moment to believe that it was indeed her who’d been calling him to come back and show himself, then from the tone and rushed quality of her voice, it would seem as though Nadine was unsatisfied with the fact that she hadn’t seen all of Salvatore’s face and body, not terrified.

How strange...

How very strange indeed…