#written by someone discovering their species

[a-whispering-echo]

WYVLISKS

Physical Traits:

Wyvlisks are draconic-humanoids with a graceful, almost elfin build. They possess spindly yet elegant proportions, standing tall or short depending on lineage. Their most prominent dragon-like features, such as scales, wings, and horns, only appear after marriage, marking a monumental transformation from their mostly human-like state. Pre-marriage Wyvlisks can appear entirely human, with no external signs of their draconic heritage.

Some Wyvlisks have the unique ability to shapeshift into cat-sized dragons, though this is a rare and revered gift. This form is considered sacred, often reserved for private or ceremonial moments.

Lifecycle & Maturity:

Wyvlisks are considered "infants" until their 20s, reflecting their prolonged development, both physically and magically. They remain in a juvenile phase until they marry, which is when their full magical potential is unlocked. This rite of passage transforms them from unremarkable beings into powerful, awe-inspiring creatures.

The act of marriage doesn’t just signify commitment but is also the key to unlocking their draconic traits. This magical metamorphosis is considered a sacred, almost divine event, marked by a public ceremony where their horns, wings, and/or scales emerge in a dazzling spectacle. It is said that witnessing this transformation is like watching a star being born, a radiant blend of power and beauty.

Cultural Roles:

Wyvlisks are often seen as embodiments of beauty and power, especially after marriage. Historically, they were revered and sought after by noble houses and influential leaders. A Wyvlisk spouse was considered a divine blessing, a sign of favor from the gods, and was often treated with great reverence and respect.

Despite their grace and elegance, Wyvlisks are formidable, especially with their unparalleled healing abilities. Seeing a scarred Wyvlisk is a chilling sight, as it suggests a battle fierce enough to overwhelm their natural regeneration.

Marriage & Jewellery Traditions:

Jewellery is a crucial part of Wyvlisk culture, used to denote marital status, power, and emotional ties.

Silver: Worn by singles, silver is a highly significant metal. Silver jewelry is passed down through generations, becoming treasured family heirlooms. A child is given their first piece of silver on their 20th birthday, an important rite of passage. If a Wyvlisk is not gifted this silver by their family, it is the greatest insult—a sign of disownment. For a parent to withhold silver is to sever ties permanently.

Gold: Worn by married Wyvlisks, gold symbolizes the beauty and strength of their union.

Black: Worn during courtship or engagement, black jewellery shows a Wyvlisk is in a relationship that is progressing towards marriage.

Copper: Widowed Wyvlisks wear copper, and the natural oxidation of the metal reflects the length of their mourning period. The longer a Wyvlisk wears oxidized copper, the more respect they are shown, as it displays the depth of their loss

Interestingly, gifting silver to a partner signifies the end of a relationship. It's a respectful but final act, akin to saying, "We are no longer bound."

Courtship Rituals:

Courtship among Wyvlisks involves braiding each other's hair—a symbolic act representing dominance, protection, and the readiness to provide for one another. The act of allowing someone to braid your hair is a gesture of deep trust and submission, indicating that you are willing to let them shape your future.

Wyvlisks also prove their worthiness to potential mates by engaging in feats of strength or skill, such as hunting, sparring, or other displays of prowess. These actions serve as proof that they are capable of protecting their partner and building a strong family.

Hair and Power Hierarchy:

Hair plays a vital role in Wyvlisk society. From infancy until around age 5, it’s acceptable for Wyvlisk children to wear their hair loose. However, as they grow older, loose hair is seen as childish or even uncultured. As they mature, their hairstyles become more intricate, signifying age, wisdom, and power.

Braids are not just decorative but also functional, acting as a symbol of one's magical and social standing. The more elaborate the braiding, the older and stronger the Wyvlisk. Powerful Wyvlisks adorn their hair with jewels, bands, and metal ties, often denoting magical prowess or social status. The positioning and angle of the braids also communicate hidden messages within Wyvlisk culture—where a single misplaced braid could cause offense or signal a challenge.

The Magic of Color and Gifting:

Each Wyvlisk possesses a unique magical aura, and their partner's jewellery is adorned with stones that match this aura in colour. These stones, crafted by hand, must perfectly reflect the precise shade of their partner’s magic. This attention to detail is crucial in maintaining the deep bonds between Wyvlisk partners.

When a Wyvlisk proposes marriage, they not only give their partner gold but also present the partner's family with a golden chalice. The chalice symbolizes acceptance into the family and is used during the wedding ceremony when both families drink from it in honour of their union. The partner is also gifted a personalized object—something deeply tied to their interests or the relationship. If this gift is not well-received, it can lead to an immediate dissolution of the courtship, as it indicates a lack of understanding between the couple.

Ancient Legacy & Fall from Dominance:

In ancient times, Wyvlisks were considered divine emissaries, believed to have descended from celestial dragons. Their marriages were seen as cosmic unions, and their species held positions of immense power and influence in many societies. To marry a Wyvlisk was to be blessed by the gods, and their beauty was considered otherworldly.

Over time, however, the Wyvlisk’s dominance waned. Legends speak of wars, betrayals, and internal strife that weakened their once-thriving population. While their influence may have diminished, they remain symbols of great honor, and marrying a Wyvlisk is still considered a rare and treasured gift.

Wyvlisk Tribal Structure: The Five Tribes

The Wyvlisk tribes are scattered across various terrains, from lush forests to desolate mountains. Though they share a common heritage, each tribe has developed unique cultural identities. The differences in their approach to scars, marriage, physical appearances, and magical practices are significant.

The Horiskh Tribe (Mountain Dwellers)

Physical Traits:

Size: Generally taller and more muscular, Horiskh Wyvlisks are adapted to the harsh, rugged mountain terrain.

Scales and Hair: They often have dark, metallic scales with shimmering hues of bronze or copper, providing natural camouflage against rocky environments. Hair colours range from deep black to silver-Gray.

Wing Structure: Their wings, post-marriage, are larger and more powerful than those of other tribes, allowing them to navigate high-altitude winds.

Cultural Beliefs:

Scar Worship: Horiskh Wyvlisks revere scars, believing that each scar represents a victory against a formidable foe or natural challenge. Scarred Wyvlisks are held in god-like esteem, often becoming leaders or spiritual guides.

Courtship Rituals: In courtship, physical prowess and endurance tests are key. Partners braid each other’s hair mid-hunt or during combat training, symbolizing unity in strength and mutual protection.

Magical Specialization: Horiskh Wyvlisks are known for their earth-based magic, manipulating stone and metal, which they use to shape their mountain homes and forge intricate jewellery.

Marriage Customs: Gold worn by Horiskh Wyvlisks often incorporates raw gems found in mountain caves, symbolizing the unrefined power of their union. These gems are believed to carry spiritual energy from the mountains, enhancing the couple’s magical abilities. weapon-shaped jewellery (miniature daggers, shields, or spears) are common, In addition to standard anklets, they wear elaborate golden bracelets on their arms and horns if present, signifying their prowess in combat.

The Aelithe Tribe (Forest Guardians)

Physical Traits:

Size: The Aelithe are generally shorter and more agile, perfectly suited to their forest environments. Their horns are thin and almost ethereal, often resembling the twisting shapes of tree branches.

Scales and Hair: Their scales are often green, gold, or dark brown, providing camouflage among the trees. Hair colours vary from earthy brown to deep red, and leaf-like patterns sometimes appear in their scales. NOTE: Some Aelithe have been noted to have very dark, almost black or purple scales and hair. The reason for this is unknown, as it does not appear to be genetic.

Wings: Post-marriage wings are smaller and more delicate, resembling butterfly or dragonfly wings in some, emphasizing their stealth and agility.

Cultural Beliefs:

Scarring and Purity: Scarring in the Aelithe Tribe is seen as a terrible blemish, corrupting the natural beauty that is central to their identity. Scarred individuals are often banished or sent to live in isolation, as they are believed to disrupt the natural flow of magic.

Courtship Rituals: Aelithe courtship is centred around forest stewardship and harmony with the natural world. Couples often braid each other’s hair while surrounded by nature, and they are required to tend to sacred trees, whose health is believed to reflect the health of their relationship.

Magical Specialization: Aelithe Wyvlisks wield plant and life-based magic, able to influence the growth of plants and even communicate with the forest. Their braided hair often contains living vines or flowers, signifying their connection to the wild.

Marriage Customs:

Gold jewelry in the Aelithe Tribe is delicate, often adorned with small wooden carvings or enchanted leaves. These elements are thought to represent the fragility and beauty of life, as well as their deep bond with nature

The Kethlin Tribe (Desert Survivors)

Physical Traits:

Size: The Kethlin Tribe tends to produce tall and lean Wyvlisks, with long limbs and narrow frames, adapted for survival in hot, arid climates. Their horns are less prominent, but their claws are unusually sharp, marking them as natural hunters.

Scales and Hair: Their scales are commonly gold, sandy, or white, reflecting the harsh sunlight of the desert. Hair colours range from pale blond to deep auburn to dusky greys. Hair ALWAYS turns grey in old age. The lack of pigmentation in their scales is a symbol of power and beauty. Scarfs and head coverings are common, used to keep sand out of more delicate areas, like eyes.

Wings: Post-marriage wings are slender, bat-like, enabling gliding over long distances in the desert winds. Their wings are small, adapted for short bursts of flight, perfect for their nomadic lifestyle

Cultural Beliefs:

Scar Acceptance: In the Kethlin Tribe, scars are a neutral symbol—neither revered nor despised. They are seen as natural consequences of life in a harsh environment. However, excessive scarring can lead to concerns about one’s ability to defend oneself, and thus may harm social standing. A scar is simply a sign that you have lived long enough to earn one.

Courtship Rituals: Kethlin courtship is a test of survival skills. Prospective partners undertake long treks to prove their endurance and mental fortitude. Many also play fight for dominance and enjoyment. Braiding each other’s hair after a natural disaster or during a challenging journey is a sign of respect and readiness for partnership.

Magical Specialization: Their magic is tied to heat, sand, and wind, allowing them to create mirages, shift dunes, or manipulate desert air to summon powerful gusts.

Marriage Customs:

The gold jewellery of the Kethlin Tribe is often spotted, in microscopic small dots, so the full image is made of very small craftsmanship, representing the shifting and ever-changing nature of life. Chalices given to families are etched with desert motifs, and filled with water gathered from distant oases, symbolizing endurance and perseverance. They are also known for their simplistic but meaningful jewellery, often carved from bones, animal teeth, or natural materials like clay.

The Sireshith Tribe (Swamp and River Inhabitants)

Physical Traits:

Size: Sireshith Wyvlisks are shorter and stockier, with muscular builds adapted for swimming and navigating through murky, swampy environments.

Scales and Hair: Their scales range from dark green to teal, often with bioluminescent markings that glow softly at night. Hair tends to be dark blue or black, with a slick, wet sheen. Nakedness is seen as very natural, and clothing is often slight or see through in appearance. Many only clothe themselves when visiting other tribes. Elders often weave kelp or seaweed into their braids as a sign of their closeness to nature and water.

Wings: Their wings are webbed, designed for gliding over water rather than flying long distances. Their wings are large but webbed slightly, resembling those of sea dragons, and they are excellent swimmers. Their horns are sleek and pointed, resembling shark fins.

Cultural Beliefs:

Scar Rituals: Scarring is considered a sign of rebirth in the Sireshith Tribe. Each scar tells a story of survival in the dangerous swamps, where creatures and natural hazards are abundant. Scarred Wyvlisks are often seen as wise and resilient, but there is no reverence or worship of scars, simply respect for those who bear them.

Courtship Rituals: In the Sireshith Tribe, courtship involves swimming in sacred waters. Couples braid their hair while submerged waist-deep in the water, allowing the current to influence the braid patterns, which are thought to show the course of their future together.

Magical Specialization: Sireshith Wyvlisks have control over water-based magic, including the ability to purify, manipulate, and control water. Some can even influence local aquatic wildlife to assist them. Frog and fish 'pets' are common.

Marriage Customs:

Their gold jewellery is often 'water-themed', with rippled textures or set with river stones. Ceremonial chalices contain sacred swamp water, believed to enhance fertility and prosperity.

The Xethari Tribe (Sky Nomads)

Physical Traits:

Size: Xethari Wyvlisks are lean and medium-height, with a build that emphasizes speed and agility.

Scales and Hair: Their scales are often iridescent blue or silver, shimmering like the sky or clouds. Hair colours are typically white, pale blue, or soft purple, mimicking the colours of the dawn or dusk sky. The Xethari style their hair in tight, controlled braids, with minimal decoration, often incorporating dark feathers or nightshade blossoms as symbols of their mystical nature. Their society values mystery and control, and their hair reflects their emphasis on keeping personal power hidden.

Wings: Their wings are the most developed, resembling those of large birds of prey, giving them unparalleled speed and agility in flight.

Cultural Beliefs:

Scar Stigma: In the Xethari Tribe, scars are considered a terrible mark of weakness. Since they pride themselves on aerial prowess, a Wyvlisk who is injured to the point of scarring is often exiled or reduced in status, as it implies a failure in battle or flight.

Courtship Rituals: Xethari courtship involves aerial dances, where partners demonstrate their speed and agility in flight. Braiding occurs while hovering in mid-air, a display of dexterity and trust.

Magical Specialization: Xethari Wyvlisks wield air and lightning-based magic, able to control wind currents or summon storms.

Marriage Customs:

Their gold jewellery often contains sky crystals or feathers. Chalices are filled with rainwater, believed to be blessed by the sky gods.

Their silver is often tarnished intentionally as part of their aesthetic.

[nellasbookplanet]

'Enjoy it despite its flaws' is one thing, but Mass Effect somehow invented its own category: 'simultaneously one of the most flawed and the most well-crafted sci-fi stories I've ever experienced'. These games are incredible. They’re the worst. All the women are sexualized. All the women have deeply flawed and complex personalities without being either demonized or romanticized. The first available f/f ship seems to be written along the guidelines of 'what would a straight man find hot'. As the games go on, they effortlessly include multiple same sex romance options given just as much care and development as the the opposite sex ones. You can play as a xenophobic murderhobo asshole. You can play as someone genuinely caring but also harsh, who inspires growth and co-operation wherever you go but who makes hard choices when you have to. You can kill civilians and punch reporters and commit genocide. You can stop a generational war and mediate peace and save several species from extinction. The robots are stereotypically evil cannon fodder. The robots are deeply complex with a tragic history. Your team mates are assholes with xenophobic opinions or justifications for police brutality and genocide, or they just want excuses to Do Murder. You team mates are deeply flawed and can be urged to grow alongside you. The most important aliens are all humanoids. There are plant aliens and jellyfish aliens and insect aliens and elephant aliens and aliens who can’t share an atmosphere with us. You have to drive around countless identically boring planets with little to show for it. You get to discover hidden secrets and civilisations millions of years old and live through some of the most emotionally harrowing scenes in storytelling history. I am going absolutely insane about it.

[foone]

I want a human zoology textbook.

Zoology, as in the study of animals. Like, a study of how humans work, done by an author that is not human.

I specifically want this for a couple reasons:

1. Descriptive, not prescriptive: don't tell me what the author thinks humans should do or how they should be. Tell me what they do. Observationally!

2. No bias towards "nature". I don't particularly care what the author is imagining humans are like in some "garden of eden" unfallen state. I want it to reference how humans ARE.

3. No morality applied to this! What do humans DO, not what you think they should do, or how they should be. And most importantly, no self-censorship in order to avoid offending some of the humans that disagree with ways people live.

And the reason I want this is because of how biology textbooks/wiki pages get written, where even if they try to be progressive they're still written from this weird perspective where they're explaining based on old ideas and the progressive stuff gets a footnote.

Like it'll be "humans have two genders, male and female. This is determined from their chromosomes, XY for male and xx for female."

And then you scroll past two pages for men and another two pages for women, and then it has one subsection that covers non-binary people and intersex people. And it's like: well then integrate that into your main statement!

It's like the author's worldview is still "there's two genders and everyone is born as one" but they've been forced to accept there are some weird exceptions but the core worldview is unchanged. And it's understandable! Wrong, but understandable: the grew up in a world that is quite strong on the "there are only two genders" ideology and doesn't like to remember that intersex people exist.

But like, imagine if you tried to do this as a zoologist. You're like "hey, all bees are female!" and then someone points out the rare male drones and they're like "oh okay I'll update my zoology textbook."

And now it reads:

All bees are female. Most are workers, and one is the queen.

(a couple sections go pass)

Drones: recent science has discovered that some bees are born male. These rare exceptions live short lives where they fertilize a queen and then die.

And it's like, no? Drones are very important to how a hive lives and they can't survive without them?

And we're constantly doing the same thing to humans and it's just bad science. Like, sure, maybe you could have the theory that "humans come in two genders: male and female" but as soon as you see one non-binary person, you have to discard that theory: it has been proven false! It's like not believing in other galaxies after Henrietta Swan Leavitt figured out how Cepheid Variables worked.

Add to that the "nature" thing. Like, you can make a sort of argument about nature vs artificial settings for a lot of species: the whole alpha/beta wolf thing came about because it turns out wolves act differently in captivity compared to the wild, so it makes sense to study how the vast majority of wolves live, not a small group you stuffed into a small area with unusual conditions. It's like saying the lifespan of goldfish is under 5 minutes, based on your study of them in this dry box you put them in.

But humans are different: we are tool-users who build new environments for ourselves. And while you can talk about how humans living in different environments act differently, it doesn't make a lot of sense to call one of them "artificial". All of them are made by us, and humans always do this. This means all environments are natural (because building environments for ourselves is what we naturally do) and all environments are artificial: we always alter our environments to better suit us! That's one of the things we naturally do!

And as for morality, it's about not ignoring things humans do regularly because you think it's weird or you think they shouldn't.

Like that tweet where someone pointed out that lots of species can change gender. Clown fish are a big one, some frogs, a couple birds, some lizards, and humans.

And people often have an immediate knee-jerk reaction of "that doesn't count!" for the last entity in that list. Why? Because we do it (usually) with clothes and makeup and medication, instead of just "naturally"? Bullshit. We're naturally TOOL USERS. Of course we use tools to change gender. We use tools to do EVERYTHING. That's natural for us.

So yeah. I think it'd be refreshing and enlightening to have a zoology textbook written about humans with this detached non-human perspective. An unbiased description of what humans are and do, rather than one irrevocably tinged with ideas of what humans should be and should do.

Basically I want to load up Vulcan Wikipedia and check the "Humans" article.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Getting Thrashed

Female Alpha Yandere x Male Omega Reader (CW: Noncon/dubcon, heat cycles, scent kink, pheromones, non-traditional a/b/o dynamics, NO mpreg, enslaved reader, conquered society, general yandere behavior, teasing, biting, claiming, space pirates) Word Count: 3.4k (WOW, sorry that took so long. I started off writing fast because I loved the idea then lost motivation halfway through. Hope you guys enjoy the second female yandere fic I have written and the first one I have written with smut. Also first fic I have written where the reader penetrates the yandere.)

Your day on the space colony of Nithyal started out like any other. You diligently did your assigned work of farming a wide array of essential foods for the colony.

It was pretty vigorous manual labor, but you didn't mind. You rather enjoyed the scent of fresh soil and ripe fruits.

And you were fairly compensated. Everyone was in Nithyal. After all, the colony was on the planet Solstan. And it wasn't called a paradise world for nothing. The weather was agreeable, there were few dangerous animals, and everyone lived harmoniously. No homelessness, no corruption, no hunger, no violence. You were very grateful to live in such a place.

Especially since you were an omega.

Many generations ago, human fertility was greatly diminishing. In a bid to save the species, there were numerous fertility experiments.

One of the most extreme experiments that altered human DNA and psychology the most resulted in two new variants of humans: Alphas and Omegas.

They were both given extreme fertility, but what good is being fertile if you just end up with a barren partner?

So they were both given heightened olfactory senses, with omegas being given genes to produce pheromones that alphas were attracted to and vice versa.

They were also capable of quickly forming intense bonds with their romantic/sexual interests.

But the biggest difference from unaltered humans was that alphas entered ruts and omegas had heats. These periods of ultra high libido were to make sure they were compelled to procreate.

The gene editing was not without unintended consequences.

Alphas tended to be larger, stronger, and more aggressive than normal people, and omegas had a tendency to be smaller and a bit more submissive.

Alphas also tended to be possessive and jealous, even going so far as almost always needing to mark their mate with a permanent bite.

These behavioral concerns lead to the discontinuation of the program. Specifically, concerns about omegas maintaining their agency when faced with such forceful alphas that could easily sniff them out.

Human fertility was restored through more refined gene editing later, with suppressants being developed for the humans already altered and their descendants so they could mask themselves.

Heats and ruts were only partly suppressed, though and it wasn't too hard for someone to discover who was an omega when their life was put on hold in a predictable pattern once every few months.

It wasn't ideal, since most people hated such altered humans.

But Nithyal was different. Everyone just cared about each other and didn't bother with any judgement.

There was no better place in the galaxy.

That was... until the dark day that a pirate fleet came from the deepest reaches of known space to upend everything.

They were called The Eternal Eclipse. And they certainly eclipsed any joy you found in Nithyal.

Your people tried to mount a defense, fighting bravely with the few ships and ground to air weapons that were available, but given their numbers there was no chance of victory.

Your colony was pretty isolated from the rest of civilization so once conquered there was little chance of liberation.

They quickly killed or at least maimed anyone who tried to fight back or organize a rebellion.

The colonists had become little more than slaves.

Many continued the hard labors they had before, with more demand to support the new ruling population, others were forced into personal servitude for the higher up pirates, and a decent chunk of the population became personal fuck toys.

At first, when the pirates had gathered up all of the colonists to assign them their fates, you were mercifully going to continue the work that you had already been doing.

But unfortunately you somehow caught the eye of Thrash and for some reason she had taken a liking to you. So instead of cultivating plants, you were forced to be by her side all day as a simple servant. This probably wouldn’t have been too bad if the violent leader didn’t happen to be, against all odds, an alpha.

You had never met one before but you could tell right away. Her scent, her attitude, the fact that she was larger and stronger than most adult men. She had hair like fire and an energy and attitude to match.

At first you were worried that she had pegged you for an omega, but she gave no indication that she knew. You were in constant fear that your omega nature would be discovered. It wasn't unheard of for omegas to be brutally raped, sold to far off black markets, or even just outright killed. Surely if she had known you wouldn’t just be a personal slave.

It seemed that your suppressants were enough to completely hide yourself from her, and you had a huge supply of them. Though you knew for a fact that once your heat started, your pheromones would poke through. And you’d also be rather horny. Maybe you could feign illness and cover yourself in perfume?

That was probably your best bet. Though you hoped no one would notice that you got ill like clockwork. Luckily you still had plenty of time until your next heat.

Working for Thrash wasn’t too physically demanding, you just had to clean up after her, prepare meals, and do little odd tasks like deliver a note or something to one of her subordinates. You actually got a lot of down time between tasks… though you always had to stay nearby in case Thrash needed something.

The overworked farmers would have surely enjoyed such a relatively cushy work detail, but it was absolute hell for you. It was like walking on eggshells, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Thrash hadn’t treated you poorly, never hit you. But you had no idea how an omega would be treated.

It was especially scary when she decided to tease you, just because she enjoyed watching you squirm.

When she licked your neck in the cafeteria in front of all her dining pirate crew she cackled at how your face turned red and you got as still as a statue as your brain shut down. You were terrified that she could smell or even taste the omega on your skin.

Thrash didn’t really know why but something in her made her love flustering you. She just couldn’t help it. She had always enjoyed making men uncomfortable or putting them in their place, but you were a bit different. It wasn’t like it was with her male pirate colleagues, where she strove to be the best and made them obey her. No, this was different, seeing your face turn red made her hungry for more.

One night she dismissed you with a smack on the ass and let you go to bed while she stayed up drinking with her best buddies. You felt humiliated and rushed off to your room, which was one that was in the house she had claimed for herself in case she needed you for something she wanted you close by. You were really like a live-in maid.

You tidied up a few things before washing up and going to bed, still embarrassed about having your butt touched in public. Despite that you managed to go to sleep pretty quickly.

Though a few hours later a very drunk Thrash comes stumbling in drunk. You wake up with a jolt and nearly jump out of your bed as a strong arm wraps around your waste and firmly pulls you close.

“Mmm where ya goin cutie? Ya need to stay close to yer alpha!”

She lightly grinded into you for a moment, her crotch against your ass before stopping and nuzzling into your neck.

“Thr-Thrash… uh… I think you accident-”

She shushed you by licking your neck and nibbling a bit. You went still as stone. If she broke the skin the special enzymes in her alpha saliva would cause you to have a permanent mark. Fortunately that didn’t happen, instead remaining content with sloppy kisses, sucking, and gentle nibbling.

You couldn’t help but let out a series of little whimpering moans at the sensation. You also became aware of just how nice she smelled. So dominant. Kinda… safe…

She chuckled at your noises.

“Haha, you’re practically a tiny defenseless omega!”

That made you shake the thoughts and distractions from your mind. This woman was not safe. She stole your home and turned you into a glorified slave. If she knew what you were she’d sell you to the highest bidder!

Luckily after that comment she had passed out in a drunken stupor.

You managed to extricate yourself from her grasp before scrambling to get to the restroom. You had to double check to make sure that the bites that Thrash had so kindly applied to your neck had not broken the skin, luckily they hadn’t.

But you still looked absolutely horrible. Your neck was covered in little hickeys, your hair was a mess, and you were so shaky from the rude awakening that you could barely stand.

Something about looking so debauched made your cock hard. Maybe it was because you had her alpha stink all over you or maybe it was something to do with the bites all over your neck. Maybe it was just because you weren’t used to the attention.

It didn’t matter why the result was the same, you had to do something about this almost painful arousal. And the scent that clung to you.

As you got in the shower you gave your cock the attention it was demanding, thinking filthy and shameful thoughts about Thrash. You tried to pleasure yourself to other thoughts but your mind kept drifting back to the oppressor of your people and the way she smelled as she bit and drooled all over your neck.

You couldn’t spill until you imagined her leaving a permanent claiming bite on your neck.

After your shower you felt dirtier than you had before you got in. You reminded yourself that you hated Thrash and that she and her crew had done to upend the lives of you and your people. It wasn’t your fault she made you aroused. What omega wouldn’t have been after that?

After you got dressed and left the bathroom you wrapped your spare blanket around you and slept in the chair in the corner of the room, you would have rather not been in the same room as the drunk alpha, but you had nowhere else you could go.

When Thrash woke up she found you sleeping soundly in the room and it took her a moment to realize she wasn’t in her room. She must have kicked you out of your bed. She did feel kinda bad about it, but she figured you would live. She was the one with the massive headache.

She went back to her quarters, leaving you to sleep a bit longer.

When you woke up you found her, thankfully gone, you wrapped a scarf around yourself to hide your neck, the weather was cool lately so no one should give a second thought to you wearing one. Then you left to start your day of servitude as you did everyday.

Unfortunately for you, you had to accompany her as she went on one of the landed ships to see what the problem was with it since she had originally been a mechanic and engineer. It was very hot in the engine room.

“How are you wearing that scarf? It’s so hot in here.” The heat wasn’t the only problem you were dealing with, she was sweating and only wearing a tank top, allowing her musk to practically smother you.

It didn’t really take all that long for you to get more than a bit dizzy and flustered. And once you were, it took even less time for Thrash to notice, she often kept an overprotective eye on you, though you had rarely noticed.

She came stomping over and looked down at you.

“I told you it was too hot for that! You’re gonna get sick dumbass! Take it off and let’s go outside for some fresh air.”

You fidgeted under her gaze and mumbled that you were okay.

When you didn’t take it off immediately she growled, jerked you over to her, and yanked it off of you.

She stared wide-eyed at your neck, not remembering having put the marks there herself the night before. And she was fucking livid.

“When the fuck did you hook up with someone, you fucking slut!? You belong to ME and I didn’t give you any permission for that shit!”

The enraged alpha slapped you hard across the cheek, making you yelp and stumble to the ground. You were sobbing and could scarcely manage to croak any words out.

“I-i d-d-didn’t l-let anyone d-do-”

Had one of her men defiled you against your will? Defiled HER slave?

“Tell me who did it!! I’ll cut their dick off and shove it up their own ass!”

Her eyes were like a cats, narrow slits. Your naturally submissive instincts told you to put your head down and obey anything the near feral alpha might demand of you.

“Y-you were dr-dr-drunk and b-bit me last night…”

Tears were leaking down your face. If you had not been on suppressants your scent would surely be one of fear mixed with pheromones to calm down this beast.

That’s right, she had woken up with a bad hangover in your room...

Thrash stared at you, at this tiny crying man in front of her, crying and terrified. She felt awful, and she didn’t often feel bad about her actions. She was a pirate, but for some reason she just didn’t like seeing you suffer at all. Certainly not because of her.

“Fuck… I’m… sorry…” She managed to say as she knelt down and rubbed your back.

“I really have no memory of last night...”

The large powerful woman picked you up easily, with your head nuzzled into her neck, crying into her.

“C’mon crybaby, let’s get you cooled off, I’ll deal with this engine later~”

She carried you carefully back to your room in the housing building, collecting odd looks as she did, which she quickly got rid of with a glare each time.

Thrash placed you into your bed and felt your head with the back of her hand. Despite not having the scarf, having been exposed to the cool outside air on the way over here, and now being in an air conditioned room you were hotter than ever.

Your mind was getting foggier and when she left to go get a cool rag and some medicine from the bathroom you finally realized why you were so hot. You were entering heat. The neck stimulation and all of Thrash’s dominant behavior over you must have somehow triggered an early one.

You had to leave before she came back and smelled it. It would only be a matter of moments before the smell broke through your suppressants.

Something in your brain was telling you to just stay there and let your alpha come back and take care of you, but the other much more grounded in reality part of your brain was telling you you had to hide in a utility closet somewhere and deal with the consequences of your absenteeism later. Better than being sold off or raped by every pirate who wants to try out an omega.

Right then you really wished suppressants just completely eliminated heats completely instead of just diluting them a bit.

Right after you had that thought Thrash entered the room and saw you standing by the door, you saw her hand had a bottle of pills. Though her search in your medicine cabinet yielded no fever reducers she found something else hidden away under your sink. Your suppressants.

And then your scent hit her. It was dulled by your medication, but she was an alpha unused to omega pheromones in any capacity.

She growled low and her pupils were like slits as her stare bored into you angrily.

“You’re MY property! And you’re keeping secrets from ME!?”

Before you could stumble out the door she charged at you, picked you up and slammed you down on the bed a bit harder than she had intended. You looked away, unable to meet her domineering and angry gaze. Your only response was to instinctively whimper in submission to placate her rage.

Thrash sniffed you, inhaling your scent from your underarm to your neck. You leaned your head over to give her easier access and show that you submitted to her will. You were terrified and she could certainly smell it.

Some of her drool dripped onto your neck as she hovered above it, licking you tentatively to calm you down. She was going to bite you and make you into her personal fuck toy and mate, she was mad that you had hidden your nature from her, but she would never hurt you.

Thrash sucked and nibbled at the gland in your neck, with you gracing her ears with a new whimpering gasp or moan each time she touched the sensitive spot.

Your terror evaporated quickly, replaced by heat fueled desire. And if you were honest with yourself maybe not all of the yearning was born from your heat.

The lust filled alpha couldn’t help but inhale your scent over and over, it was literally a drug for her. She had already wanted to fuck you into oblivion even before she got a whiff of you in heat, but now there was no stopping herself. Already she couldn’t wait to drink in your smell during your next heat when your suppressants were out of your system.

She made a mental note to flush them after this.

The pirate rubbed your crotch, palming at your erection, getting you even more aroused before she bit your neck. Hard. Her fangs pumping into you something that would make you smell claimed to any other alphas and leaving a large permanent hickey on that portion of your neck.

You moaned out loud in painful pleasure, arching your back and thrusting your clothed arousal into her hand.

Thrash licked your bleeding wound and then turned her attention to your cock and her own pleasure.

You could only stare and writhe in need as she pulled away from you and took off her clothes.

“Gimme a second, I just need to get our clothes off!”

It was the first time you had seen her breasts. You were in awe of this figure above you. So strong and assertive. So beautiful. A perfect partner.

To her you were the beautiful one. So sweet and pretty and perfect put in your place below her.

She practically ripped your clothing off and buried herself back in your neck as she brought herself down on you, enveloping your entire length in the warmth of her cunt. Her hands pushed down your shoulders as she rode you.

Your pleasured moans mixed with her grunts and growls as she fucked you until you saw stars. Your first orgasm was really quick, and was not nearly enough for either of you. Another perk of heats, insatiable libido.

With each of her downward movements you thrust upwards, desperate to get as deep as possible, the scent of her aroused pheromones combined with your heat making you absolutely unable to care about anything else.

You didn’t care that she had conquered your people or that she controlled them. In this state it only made her stronger in your eyes. A more suitable mate. You wanted to fill her up with so many babies.

The sex lasted hours, until the both of you were too sore to keep moving. It finally ended with you clinging to her and using her tits as a pillow with her arm wrapped around your protectively.

When the fog of pheromones and heat left your brain you were horrified by what had happened. But if you weren’t owned by her before, the new mark on your neck meant you certainly were now, and she would never let you go.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

(This snippet popped into my head and I wanted to share it with someone. Its not really a prompt so much as it’s a scene that can be connected to various dcxdp prompts I guess)

Oracle is going to destroy someone. Or something. She not quite sure which one yet.

She’s been tasked to hack into the Fentonworks systems due to the concerning amount of weapons manufactured and shipped out, and the biased papers written by them for an entire species that said weapons were built to deal with.

She’s been at this for hours because their systems make no sense. The way they’re set up shouldn’t be working at all. Nevermind as well as they are to keep her out.

Hours she’s been working at this mess of coding and firewalls only to discover the password to access the info needed for their investigation is fucking HAM.

Danny: Oh. I was expecting it to be Fudge. All caps.

Anywho, yeah I can see that happening. I can see an entire sting operation happening actually. Imagine they have to send someone in to get close to Jazz or Danny. Jazz basically has no socal life cause she "has to focus on her studies" so she's out

Depending on Dannys age they'll either send in Tim who will be very affective in getting info and might be double adopted by the end of this or Damian who will cause so much confusion and upset especially if the bats suspect the Fentons of abusing thier kids.

Damian: *noticing signs* Are you being mistreated at home

Danny: *noticing those same signs* Are you?!

Meanwhile Barbara is losing her mind trying to figure out to figure out the thought process behind the tech. Were these people stupid or geniuses? The world may never know

[nnymphie]

Hiiiii obsessively scrolled your blog in one sitting and I’m obsessed w how you write Laios it’s so sweet (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

With that, how do you think he’d handle maybe some of the more animalistic traits his partner would have? Getting used to things like hibernation, “weird” (to tall men) mating rituals, different bodily reactions due to whiskers or different strength in senses. We all know he ♡’s monsters and animals of all kinds so he’s probably not TOO surprised by it, but now he has to deal with it as the partner to someone with these traits?! Woah!

AHH thank you so much🥺🫶 I’m seriously SOOO flattered!!! I’m glad you enjoy my interpretation of Laois! He’s honestly one of my favorite characters from any franchise, and i think one of by far the best written manga/anime protags ever. Like he’s just wonderful and i wanna chew on him and hold him so gently ugHHHHH

As far as you ask:

I think he’d honestly be a damn good partner to someone with animalistic qualities. This man probably has multiple journals dedicated to every little special quirk, habit, mannerism, etc, that you have- and he thinks they’re all wonderful. He is genuinely in awe of everything about you and how uniquely you live life. He would absolutely ask as many questions as you’d allow him, and conduct all the research he possibly could. Hell, I could see him researching the specific husbandry and behavioral aspects of whatever species your beast side comes from- and trying to work some of it into his routine. Dare i say he’d even be a bit jealous that you get the privilege of experiencing some of these instincts and traits???

If you hibernate? You best believe he is helping feed you plenty before its time and making sure you have a safe comfortable nesting place. If you have special mating rituals? He’s learning them all so he can be the best mate possible to you ( he’s honored to even have the title of mate)

He’d love to test your reflexes and sensitivity to different stimuli, but also learn what you don’t like and find ways to mitigate or all together alleviate your discomfort.

I’ve talked about it before, but I firmly believe that your animal traits and beastly nature makes him understand you better. He hasn’t ever really fit in, and regular human social situations are not his strong suit or something he favors really at all. He doesn’t seem to pick up on queues the others do, his interests and passions are often not understood and mocked/judged. Perhaps in a different way than you, but he has also been a misfit outcast most of his life, he empathizes with you on that, finds a sense of camaraderie in not belonging. And even better? The very things that make you different are precisely what he’s so passionate and knowledgeable about. He is fantastic with animals and beasts alike, hell, there’s a solid chance he already knows about some of your specific behaviors and needs before you even have to tell him. And what he doesn’t know? He is eager to learn from you at any and every opportunity. He would never make you feel like a burden for the things you cannot control, rather id imagine he’d encourage you to live as naturally and comfortably as you can.

Laois is so damn amazed by you, he loves every little weird thing, and wants to keep discovering more for as long as he’s possibly able to,,,

[wxlfbites]

A Werewolfs Guide to Terminology - an update

Authors Note: Below is an ever developing glossary which will be used by a new, yet familiar, branch of the nonhuman community known as the were community. For all those who wish to distance or no longer associate themselves with the current alterhuman, otherkin and therian communities, respectively, this glossary provides ways of describing one's experiences and identities that are more reminiscent of the "old days". While terms used within all of these communities will be listed here, you'll notice they're written a bit differently, to distinguish between "new" and "old" variations. Any and all questions about terminology are welcome. Any terms coined by individual Were's may not appear in any official Were community glossary unless it proves to be a useful, popular term; we want to avoid as much micro-labeling, excessive coining and term hoarding as possible.

A

Animality - the experience or state of being an animal.

Awereness - when one comes to understand their nonhumanity/animality; they become "awere".

Alt.Horror.Werewolves (AHWW) - a usenet group created in 1992 to discuss werewolves and the werewolf genre, it became the birthplace of The Were Community when others began discussing their experiences with nonhuman identity.

C

Calling - feeling drawn to something, someone or someplace as part of ones nonhumanity, this could be used for a nebulous experience that one might not be able to label otherwise, a placeholder while one is discovering what an experience means to them, or a standalone label : "I feel the call of x" or "I'm having a strong calling toward x".

Clinical Zoanthropy - a psychological condition wherein one experiences delusions of being, transforming into or having previously transformed into a nonhuman animal.

D

Daemon - a thoughtform representation of someone's subconscious, inner thoughts, or soul which is given a name, animal form, gender and, in most cases, sentience.

Daemian - one who has a daemon.

Drop - to no longer identify as or with a specific identity for whatever reason; typically seen in the context of voluntary identities.

F

Flicker - one who experiences a nebulous or temporary identity which is often brought on by the consumption of some source material; the thing one identifies as : "my x-flicker" or "I'm flickering as x".

G

Gear - accessories, including jewelry, clothing, taxidermy, etc. worn to express and connect to ones nonhumanity and/or relieve species dysphoria.

Greymuzzle - an older, well respected member of the were community who has been active for several years; equivalent to an elder.

H

Hearted - the strong connection one feels to something nonhuman which may include an affinity for, relation to, resonance or familiarity with; the thing one feels a connection with : "I am x-hearted".

Howl - an organized gathering of Were's, typically in a physical location.

L

Link - a nonhuman identity that is voluntarily chosen or created; the thing one voluntarily identifies as or with : "my x-link" or "I link to/as/with x".

M

Mundane -  indicating those who are not part of any nonhuman community and do not consider themselves to be nonhuman in anyway, particularly those who do not know of these communities or who do not believe in them.

N

Nonhuman - someone who identifies as something other than human.

Nonhumanity - the experience or state of being nonhuman.

P

Pack - a tightly knit group of Were's who communicate regularly and function as a chosen family; may or may not have ranks.

Polywere - a Were whose identity is that of multiple separate species at once.

S

Shifting - when one feels more like their nonhuman identity at any given moment; refer to part two of this glossary.

Species Dysphoria - a type of bodily dysphoria (i.e. anxiety, distress, dissatisfaction) arising from the perception that ones body is of the wrong species.

T

Transspecies - one who identifies as a species that is different from the one they are assigned at birth; typically used only by those who are also transgender, experience species dysphoria and desire body modifications which may resemble medical transitioning to resemble their species more on a physical level.

The Were Community - the overall population who identify themselves as Were's.

W

Were - one who identifies as nonhuman, specifically as some creature or animal; this can be a physical, spiritual, psychological or mixed-belief identity : "I am a Were" or "I am a Were-x".

Werefeels - the feeling of being closer to or reminded of one's nonhumanity; sometimes triggered by an image, item or sensation.

Weresona - a character created by a Were member of the furry fandom, based on their nonhuman characteristics; for use in furry circles.

Part Two - Shifting

Astral Shift - a shift where one takes on the form of a nonhuman creature within the astral plane

Aura Shift - when one's aura changes to reflect their nonhumanity.

Berserker Shift - when one's animality takes over, characterized by loss of control or an altered state of consciousness.

Bilocation Shift - a shift where one's spirit leaves their body and takes on the form of a nonhuman creature.

Cameo Shift - a shift of any kind that is not representative of one's established nonhuman identity.

Dream Shift - a shift experienced in an unconscious state or dream, where one takes on the form and/or mentality of a nonhuman creature.

Mental Shift - when one experiences what they believe to resemble the mentality and cognitive processes of a specific nonhuman creature.

Phantom Shift - when one experiences non-corporeal body parts associated with a nonhuman creature.

Sensory Shift - when one experiences heightened or altered senses that they feel resembles that of a nonhuman creature.

Transformation - a physical shift which is acknowledged by the one experiencing it to be a hallucination.

[projectmoon-smash-or-pass]

propaganda:

✅️ "some larger roach species actually like to be petted and stroked"

✅️ "Ok look, normally for these smash or pass things I will go purely off of looks for every character (which is why I am voting smash for every sinner and basically every character too)

But Gregor?

I do not want to just smash this man. I want him in almost every single conceivable way a human can desire. I am completely, 100% sure in my masculinity and, were I in the city, I would use some singularity or something to make it so he can get me pregnant. (if he asked for kids, I doubt he would tbh) This man is the first and last time I will ever experience any emotions about a fictional character beyond ‘they are cool and well written’

I genuinely think project moon went into my brain, plucked out my ideas of ‘perfect man’ and wrote him as a character. He changed my opinions on smoking single handedly. Shit I didn’t even think was hot I have discovered I find incredibly attractive solely because of him. I have all of his ID’s and EGO’s maxed (without spending a penny because I’m still relatively sane) and have solo’d every single boss level that you can physically solo with zwei Gregor.

I could say a lot more, but I don’t want to bury everyone else’s words, so I’ll just do the bare essentials"

✅️ "BIG. MEATY. CLAWS."

✅️ "I AM GOING TO GET HIM GREGNANT"

✅️ "i am in a constant state of considering the logistics of a threesome with heathcliff and gregor. unconventional duo, i know, but i just know they'd treat a partner right. heathcliff's probably got a bit of a rough streak, and gregor would have dirty talk down to a science, and the aftercare would be heavenly. all-around wonderful time for everyone involved. please tell me someone else understands my vision."

✅️ "reading clockroach ceo's g. corp!gregor/dante fic has rewritten my brain chemistry and i can never be normal abt either of them again. smash plsssssss"

✅ "i love bugs. i want the bugs to love me back"

[dragon-creates]

A Good Luck Charm (for funnybunny writing week)

Read on AO3

In a world where the fae walk among mortals, a disguised jackrabbit named Jax finds a mortal named Pomni alone at a park. Feeling sympathy for her struggles, Jax casts a small good luck charm for a few hours to help her. However, even if the charm lasted for a day, it wouldn't be the last time that the fae saw the human.

IMMA BETA READ THIS IN THE MORNING I PROMISE JUST PLEASE TAKE THIS ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE IVE WRITTEN ANYTHING!!!!!

The fae had always existed. They have been right in front of you, yet you never even spared a glimpse. Whether it was a siren hiding beneath the murky waters, or a pixie hopping from flower to flower, they’re not so human features were hidden from the everyday mortals.

Years ago, the king and queen of the fae realm had discovered a portal to the worlds of mortals. They had considered keeping this secret to themselves, knowing that they were some fae with tricks up their sleeves that aimed to do more harm than good. However, they know someone would find out eventually, and cause more uproar.

And so, a law was stated: those who wanted to enter the fae realm were to use a glamour to hide their magical forms and use minimum to none of their powers unless it was an emergency. The law had been strict and for good reason, many fae had tested to see what they could get away with and had found themselves behind the prison walls of the castle prison.

It wasn’t to say no magic could be use. Whether it was the glamour spells themselves, or a chant to help them through everyday tasks like cooking. But under no circumstances could they perform curses, hexes, or use a spell to own a human’s name and soul.

It was surprising to everyone that the fae that strongly agreed with the king and queen’s law was none other than Jax the jackrabbit.

The werebeast had proven many times how mischievous he could be with his spells. Whether it was using it to replace hair cleanser with syrup, temporally turn his fellow fae into different species using illusions, or creating booby traps with the magical material he had. It was definitely whiplash with how much Jax approved of the royal couple’s decision, not even their own son Prince Caine agreed.

Yes, Jax was well… an ass. But he knew that interfering with mortals was an unfair power imbalance, and he himself knew all too well about that. Werebeasts were always looked down upon by other fae, especially jackrabbits and how so many fae saw them as ‘weak’. Maybe it was why Jax acted the way he did, to prove those stereotypes wrong. But he knew from experience the type of entitlement people felt when seeing something they saw as insignificant to them.

While he did pull a few tricks here and there in the mortal realm, it was usually something small like spilling a drink on someone’s clothes or turning a possession they had invisible – it was always funny seeing them run around looking for it. And he always made sure to do these misdeads to people who actually deserved it, whether it was overpowered rich man talking down to a waiter, or an entitled customer demanding a refund at Ragatha’s bakery.

Speaking of which, was where the disguised jackrabbit found himself. Many fae had started up their own lives in the human realm, whether it was falling in love, starting a business or even wanting a change of pace from the chaos of the fae realm. Once of those being Ragatha, an enchanted ragdoll come to life. Her kind and gentle nature had to be even sweeter than the treats she baked for the mortals who visited her shop.

She and Jax had been friends throughout their childhood, with the former acting like an older sister to the rabbit. At times they butted heads, with Ragatha often times being quite overbearing and Jax too mischievous. But when push came to shove, they always supported one another, just like how any sibling would.

The ragdoll handed a small paper bag to Jax over the counter, her glamour hiding her plush form and instead showed a tall woman with curly red hair and an eye patch covering one of her deep brown eyes.

Jax nodded to her in thanks, handing over his cash as well as putting a few paper notes in the tip jar beside her cash register. His usual purple fur was replaced with dark brown skin, along with brown eyes and black dreads pulled into a short ponytail. It was nearly Ragatha’s lunch break, so Jax liked to use that time beforehand to make sure that no ill-willed mortals bothered her with useless demands or complaints they made up on the spot.

The day had been peaceful, the customers pleasant and Ragatha been sickly sweet as usual. She had even prepared Jax two ham and cheese croissants for his own lunch. “Sorry about the extra one, I overdid in the kitchen earlier but at least you’ve got something to eat,” her smile was apologetic.

Jax waved his wand in dismissal, “All good rags, I’m sure Zooble wouldn’t mind trying this.”

“Yeah. I think I’ve gotta put out some job applicants soon. It’s getting a little hard baking and sorting out the register” she huffed tiredly, untying her apron. “Well, I’m closing up for the lunch hour. Are you gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Jax grinned. “Besides, what could I possibly do while I’m alone dollface?”

Ragatha whipped round with a scowl, “Jax you better behave! And I told you not to call me that!”

The man snickered, pointing a finger to his cheek, “Come on! You like that nickname! Besides, you always know I don’t get caught.”

Ragatha growled, her face softening with concern, “Not yet. You don’t know who might catch you when you least expect it. I know the law says to use minimal magic, but I don’t want you to push it.”

“Hey, I practiced my spells for years now. I’ll be fine,” Jax gave her a reassuring smile. “Besides, the ones I do it to are too self-absorbed to notice anything.”

“Just be careful, please?” Ragatha’s brows furrowed. “You never know who might catch you, mortal or not.”

It wasn’t a paranoid fear. Both of them knew what would happen if the wrong person would catch fae magic. Whether it was a mortal who could abuse that knowledge, or another fae who could use it for blackmail and benefit themselves while the recipient suffers. Jax knew this all too well and was why he well versed himself with magic and the concerns that came with it when entering the mortal realm. Despite his pranks, he was always careful.

“I’ll be fine rags, nothing has stopped me yet, besides,” Jax smiled, turning slightly darker with his next sentence, a hint of his true form’s Cheshire grin behind the glamour spell. “They don’t know just how dangerous I can get.”

“Ew, put that away,” Ragatha squirmed with a laugh. “That smile always freaks me out when you use it with your human face.”

Jax snorted, his smile returning to pearly teeth once again, “Sorry dollface, you know I like messing with you.”

“Alright, out!” Ragatha chortled, throwing a damp towel at him.

Jax let out a yelp as he rushed out of the door, unable to wipe the smile off his face. For all the teasing, he did care for Ragatha like she was truly his sister. Jax shook his head, bringing the paper bag up to his nose and breathed in the delicious scent of the croissant from inside. Ragatha always outdid herself when it came to cooking and baking. With just a sprinkle of magic and a ton of hard work, she made the best pastries on both the fae and mortal realm.

Rolling his shoulders back, he set off towards the town’s park. It was the place that reminded him the most of home, with winding paths, beautiful flora and the sun peaking out of the autumn tree leaves that felt oh so similar to the magical feeling of wandering the enchanted forest back home. It might not be home, but it certainly was beautiful.

It was where he liked to take refuge and eat when he wasn’t pranking anyone, on his usual bench in front of the rippling river. Although when he was walking towards it, it seemed that his usual spot had been occupied instead.  

A short young woman, perhaps in her twenties, with short brown hair and dressed in a long-sleeved blouse and pencil skirt. Her hair was frizzy, sticking out in places, food stains on her shirt and bags under her eyes. She looked exhausted.

However, her eyes were focused on a pencil and paper she clutched in her hands, sketching away without paying mind to any of her surroundings.

Jax raised an eyebrow, now this was certainly new. And whenever something new was plopped onto his lap, he needed to grasp the opportunity to explore it. He slowly stepped towards her, making sure she couldn’t hear him coming before speaking in hushed whisper, “I see you’ve stolen my spot.”

A strangled gasp mixed with a scream left the woman’s mouth, scowling when she found the culprit to her fright, “Dude! What the fuck is wrong with you! Don’t sneak up on people like that!”

Jax couldn’t help but laugh. It was the cheapest trick in the books, but it was still funny as hell. He cleared his throat as he calmed down, “Sorry, couldn’t help it. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

The woman sighed, the frustration leaving her as she mindlessly returned to her drawing, “I haven’t been here in a while. I used to come here all the time before starting my job. Seems like forever ago.”  

The fiery nature that she had displayed fizzled out quickly, like a cheap sparkler from a supermarket. Jax’s brows furrowed, usually someone with an inner fire such as the woman wouldn’t have let out that spark so suddenly. It wasn’t really fun when someone was like that, it took the fun out of it. “Can I?” he pointed to the empty spot beside the bench.

The woman looked up to see what he was doing, giving him a curt nod before Jax sat down beside her.

“So what brings you here now?” Jax asked, becoming more curious for the human.

“Nostalgia and self-pity,” she replied with blunt honesty. Jax had to bite back a laugh, it didn’t feel like the time or place. “It was always my main inspiration for art. I’d get so many ideas and then draw them out the minute I got them. It was always my passion that passed me through my art classes. However art commissions and a childhood dream alone doesn’t help you through college debt. It’s a good thing I’m good with numbers, even if the job that comes with it is soul sucking.”

Ah yes, the average mortal office job. From how others described it, Jax would have been convinced that it was an unholy cursed fortress that stole the spirits of anyone who entered. And while it wasn’t quite what he thought it would be, he didn’t want to spend time in one of those buildings to find out. This woman had the heart of a warrior for making it this long. “Why not try and continue your passion for art if you love it so much?” Jax asked. “Why let this job stop you?”

The woman sniffed, “As if I haven’t tried before. But corporate greed is a strong foe. They’ll try and do anything than hire and pay genuine talent these days. You have no idea how disheartening it is to see something you’ve poured your entire life into be thrown away just because someone is too entitled to give you a chance.” She groaned, wiping away a frustrated tear. “God I’m insane, why am I telling a random stranger this?!”

“Why wouldn’t you? I’m very charming,” he gave her a grin, trying to bring back some of the charm to see if it could lift the situation. Judging by her growl it didn’t. “Ignore what I just said. Look, the point is, you’ve sunk yourself to the lowest point that you could ever imagine by venting to a random guy you’ve met at the park.”

“Wow, yeah, thanks for the reminder,” she rolled her eyes.

Jax cringed, yeah he understood how that sounded, “Okay, ignore that as well. Right now, you’re at a point in your life where you’re letting yourself be miserable. That doesn’t sound like a life worth living.”

The woman sighed, her face softening as she brought her knees up on the bench and hugged them, “Yeah, I know. But what other path is there for me to take?”

“One that makes you happy,” Jax stated.

“Easier said than done,” the woman looked towards him.

“Is it?” Jax tilted his head. This mortal was definitely stubborn. “Or have you wallowed so much to not realise that a better path is there for you?”

That seemed to have struck a nerve if the look on the woman’s face said anything. She looked back down to her notepad, the flow of lines weaving together to begin a possible masterpiece. “I don’t think I’ve actually finished a project since my job,” she whispered.

Jax heart panged. The only downside within the mortal world was the way that some humans would tear others so low to the point of being destroyed all for an extra coin. It was extremely disruptive to his carefree personality and made him feel sympathetic to random strangers. Like this woman.

Although it seemed that his words were getting through to her, with the way her eyes started to gleam as she looked over her sketch. Jax wasn’t one to interfere with mortal lives, but this woman…her sad eyes was something that pulled on his heartstrings in way he never felt before.

He quietly snapped his fingers, the branches and leaves parting above the little wooden tree canopy above them to reveal the sun sparkling on the lake in front of them. Jax’s pulse quickened when he saw how the woman’s eyes shone, gripping her pencil tighter as she began to draw again, quicker than before.

It was just a simple good luck spell, nothing more and nothing noticeable. Just something to help her out. He was only doing it because it wasn’t fun when humans were sad. Yes, that was it. Nothing else at all. It didn’t stop him from pulling the spare croissant out of his paper bag. “They gave me an extra with my order,” he said, holding it out in front of her. “Want one?”

She shook her head, “No thanks, I’m not hun-” The growl of her stomach interrupted her, making her blush.  

Jax snickered before breaking out into a full belly laugh, making the woman’s face flush even more red. “What’s that about artists never taking a break? I always thought that was a myth,” Jax snorted.

“Oh haha,” the woman furrowed her brows, but wasn’t able to hold back her smile.

Jax froze. Oh gods…her smile was more beautiful than a charm itself.

“Hey, you gonna pass that croissant or what?” she giggled.

“U-uh yeah,” Jax gulped, blinking before handing it to her, taking his out first so she could hold the bag and not get her fingers dirty. “By the way, can I ask what your name is?” Jax always had to be careful when asking a mortal’s name, just so it didn’t result in an ownership spell. He always despised fae who used those spells.

The woman wiped away a crumb from her lips before replying, “I’m Pomni.”

“Pomni…it’s nice to meet you Pomni,” Jax smiled.

“Nice to meet you too…uh what’s your name?” Pomni asked.

“Jax,”

“Well then, Jax, it’s nice to meet you too,” her eyes sparkled before biting into her croissant. She let out a groan at the taste. “Oh my god this is amazing! Where did you get this?!”

Jax’s stomach fluttered, as though she had performed her own spell on him, “Um, my friend Ragatha own a bakery up the street. You should visit it sometime.”

Pomni hummed through her bite, “Maybe I will.”

The two continued their meal in silence. Jax smiled one more time, this mortal surely was interesting. Maybe fate would let them meet again one day.

And it seemed fate was listening, for when Pomni looked at the name of the bakery on the paper bag, she recalled Jax’s words. Or have you wallowed so much to not realise that a better path is there for you?

Maybe he was right. Maybe there was a better path.

.

.

.

It had been a few days since that day at the park, yet Jax couldn’t stop thinking about Pomni. She was like the first chapter of a book, introducing a story that lured him in yet there were the only pages he was given, leaving behind curiosity. But he knew that it wasn’t likely that he would see her again. She was only one mortal out of many.

But still, she was nice.

It was another day, the wind was getting colder and nipping at his cheeks. Winter was getting closer, so he was on his way to Ragatha’s to warm up with food and drink. The bell on top of the door jingled once it Jax opened it, rubbing his hands to try and warm them up, “Hey Rags, I hope I’m not to early. Am I good to have my usual-” He paused, it wasn’t Ragatha behind the register, “Pomni?”

 The woman looked up from the register, pausing from sorting out paper bills to see the familiar man in front of her, “Jax?! Hey, it’s good to see you again.” She wasn’t in the office blouse and skirt like the last time he saw her. Instead, she was in a long cotton skirt with a blue and white checkered shirt with small fluffy sleeves, all tied together with an apron.

Jax wanted to burst, she looked so fucking adorable, “Pomni?! What brings you here?”

“Well, I kinda thought about what you said the other day,” she told him. “And I wanted to come here to see what else they served here. Maybe I was impulsive, but when I heard that Ragatha was hiring someone to take care of the finance part here, I decided to put in my application. Long story short I got the job, quit my old place and now I’m here. The pay is actually really good!”

All part of the fae abilities Jax spoke internally. He knew hat the fae were financially secure, the hobby that came with the job was just a perk. So that meant that most of the pay that was made all went to Pomni, no wonder it was better than her last job.

But she seemed much brighter than last time, no bags under her eyes and her beautiful smile was on full display once again. His heart skipped a beat, she may be mortal but her smile was pure magic.  

“Hey Jax, your order is nearly ready,” Ragatha came out from behind the kitchen, wearing a red version of the shirt Pomni was wearing. “Have you met Pomni? She’s made my life a hell of a lot easier being here. She’s so good with numbers!”

Pomni blushed, shaking her head, “She’s exaggerating. But yeah, we actually met last week at Circlevale park.”

“Oh, you did?” Ragatha turned her head to Jax, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, I was having a rough day but this guy gave me the courage to find a new job,” Pomni gleamed. “Even if he decided to scare me first.”

“Jax!” Ragatha exclaimed, scowling as she put a protective hand on Pomni’s shoulder.

“Hey this is me we’re talking about! What else did ya expect?” His usual Cheshire grin returned.

Pomni turned to Ragatha, “I take it that he’s always like this?”

“Oh you have no idea hun,” Ragatha deadpanned. “He’s lucky he hasn’t been thrown in a ditch yet.”

“Ppphh!” Pomni put a hand over her mouth to hide her laughter, even if it was a poor job doing so.

Even her laugh felt like a chant to him.

Ragatha looked between the two, her face becoming serious as she analysed the way the disguised jackrabbit looked at the human, “Hey Jax, could you come to the back to collect your order? We need to talk.”

Her teeth were grit together. Jax gulped, he was in trouble.

“I’ll be right back Pomni, you just keep doing what you’re doing,” she smiled softly at the girl.

The brunette grinned back, focusing on the register again.

Jax sucked in a breath as Ragatha led him to the kitchen, having a feeling that he knew exactly what she was going to say.

She stopped behind the flour dusted countertop, turning round to him, her face stern like a mother about to scold her child. “You wanna tell me why a human who met you spontaneously quit her job just to work for me? This better be a coincidence and not you trying some new prank on this poor girl!” Ragatha hissed, her voice low and dangerous.  

Jax felt the hair rising on his neck, the ragdoll could be terrifying when she wanted to be, “Okay, I know how this looks. Just hear me out, please.”

Ragatha crossed her arms, motioning for him to continue.

The man let out a sigh of relief, “We did meet at the park the other day, but I swear this isn’t a trick!” He held his hands up in defence. “All I did was a small good luck charm, but nothing that would lead to this! Just to help cheer her up!” Ragatha raised a brow at him. “I swear!”

The redhead crossed her arms, concern lacing her features, “I’m just worried that you might slip up. And I know, I know. You’re always careful. But you’ve met this girl and have casted a luck charm on her, you’ve never done that for anyone before. Even if luck charms aren’t deep spells or dark magic, it’s the fact that you were vulnerable towards this mortal to feel like you had to cast this for her.”

Jax scowled. He knew she wasn’t doing this intentionally but it felt like she was comparing him to Prince Caine. Jax grimaced, just even thinking about Caine made his stomach churn. He was nothing but a leach who felt entitled to owning anything and anyone to do whatever he wanted, disguised over his overly positive persona of a naïve prince who didn’t know any better. At least Jax was upfront about his flaws, and not hiding behind a mask like that disgraceful heir.

“I know you think that, but you’re wrong,” Jax stated. “I cast a luck charm because I don’t believe anyone, mortal or fae, should be oppressed by those who deem themselves above them. I cast the charm, but she left that job on her own accord. She chose to work here on her own accord. She chose to be happy on her own accord. All I did was give her the option and the push.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I know what I’m doing, please. Trust me.”

Ragatha sighed, there was still a voice in the back of her head telling her that something was going to happen, but she didn’t want to be clouded with judgement in case it affected Pomni or Jax. “Ok,” she looked up. “But if anything happens I will chop you up and serve you as rabbit stew. Are we clear?”

Jax went stiff, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple, “Yes ma’am”

“Good,” Ragatha picked up a scone and placed it into a paper bag, handing it to Jax. “Now go pay up with my new assistant. And don’t forget to leave her a tip.”

“You wound me Rags, I’m decent enough to tip,” Jax put a hand to his chest in mock hurt.

Ragatha rolled her eyes, pushing him back out to the front before going back to baking.

Jax exited the kitchen, stepping back out into the main area as he faced the brunette once again. She was serving another customer once of the desserts in the display area before typing up his check and sending him on his way. The way she was quick to piece together the math of the items picked, not even needing to use the automatic calculator on the register, relying on her mind alone. Ragatha was right, she was good with numbers.

Pomni turned to him, “You all figured out?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jax nodded. “Ragatha just needed me for something.”

“Okay, what’s your order for today?” she asked, straightening her back professionally.

“Just this scone,” Jax placed the bag on the scale next to the register.

“And your total is…two dollars,” she told him. “Are you paying cash or card?”

He fished out his card from his bag, maybe sure to place a ten inside of her tip jar. Pomni smiled one last time at him. At that moment, when his heart skipped a beat when seeing that smile did he decide that he wanted to see her again, “Um, are you busy this week? By any chance?”

The mortal was caught off-guard by the question, but still answered anyway, “Oh, well I do have my shifts here Monday to Friday, but I have weekends off.”

“Well, would you like to…um,” Jax rubbed the back off his neck. Mortal movies made this look so easy!

“Would I like to what?” Pomni grinned, slightly mischievous.

Little minx, “Hang out?” Jax suggested. “Grab a coffee? See a movie? Go back to the park again?”

Pomni’s cheeks turned pink at the implication of the question, “Are you asking me on a date?”

Jax cleared his throat, “Would you like it to be a date?”

“I don’t know, do you?” her grin was back.

Jax smirked, two can play at that game, “I do actually. I wanna take this beautiful girl in front of me on the date of her choice and treat her with the respect she deserves.” He leaned down, his confidence returning. “How’s that little lady?”

Pomni flushed, not expecting the sudden boldness, “I-I can go to the park on Sunday afternoon.” She smiled shyly, yet excited at the same time.

Jax felt his heartbeat quicken, this was really happening, “Great. Would you like to give me your number?”

She held out her hand, with Jax placing his phone into it as she typed the number into his contact. He had to stop himself from jumping for joy as he placed it back into his pocket. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

“See you Sunday,” Pomni repeated, folding her hands together.

Jax waved to her as he stepped out the door, a new warmth rushing through him despite the winter chill. Sunday couldn’t come fast enough.

.

.

.

They spent the entire winter together, visiting each other, finding out their hobbies, making messes in the kitchen whenever Jax tried to teach Pomni to cook (yet failing every time), but their main spot had to be the very park they met in.

Jax couldn’t deny it, he was falling in love with Pomni. And he was falling hard. But he couldn’t help it, she had him under a spell, and he didn’t care one bit.

When spring finally came, they found themselves more at the park and on the bench where he first found her. Overtime, Pomni had become more comfortable with touch around Jax, with her currently resting her legs over his lap and resting her head on his shoulder and Jax wrapped his arms around her.

“Can I tell you something?” Pomni murmured, picking up his hand and playing with his fingers.

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Jax intertwined their fingers together.

“I think you made my life better by meeting you,” she admitted. “I can’t describe it, but after meeting you, everything just felt so much clearer. I think you’re pretty amazing.”

Jax chuckled, holding her closer, “I think you’re amazing too.”

“And I think my art has become more special,” she told him. She sat up, “I have something else to tell you…I’m submitting my art into an art exhibition next month.”

Jax’s eyes widened, still holding her in his arms as he stood, “Pomni that’s awesome! You did it!”

“Jax oh my god! Put me down you idiot!” Pomni laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck, unable to contain their shared excitement.

Jax had fallen so deeply in love with her. He wanted to do everything with her, help her build her dreams, smile as they fell asleep together, kiss her as though she was his last breath of air. But first, he had to tell her about his true origins. But not now, they would enjoy this moment now.

Both of them giggled and cheered, so wrapped up in their own little world of joy. Their own little magical bubble…

That neither of them realized a pair of eyes watching them afar…

.

.

.

Jax looked in the mirror as he fixed a stray piece of hair back into place. Today was the day he was going to tell Pomni the truth about himself. He wanted to tell her how he felt so badly, but he knew he couldn’t have an honest relationship with her without mentioning the fae part of himself. All he had to hope was that she still saw him as who he is, without panicking about his rabbit features.

She would be here any minute, he had already had the coffee machine turned on as well as her usual snack whenever she visited. He wanted to make sure she felt comfortable before saying anything. To take the pressure off her.

Knock, knock

Jax sucked in a breath, she was here. He brushed off his shirt one more time before answering the door. He opened it, expecting to see the same smiling brunette before welcoming her in, but this time, she looked terrified.

“Hey,” he reached a hand towards her, pulling back when he saw her flinch. “Is everything okay?”

“I-I,” she stammered, walking into the apartment. “It’s hard to explain. It all happened so quickly and I didn’t know what was happening and I don’t know what to do or where to go and I’m freaking out I’m really scared right now-”

Jax shut the door, leading her to the couch and sitting her down. “It’s okay, breathe, I’m here,” he started a breathing exercise, one that would help her calm down. Once he saw her repeating them, he got up to make her usual coffee, grabbing a small bag of popcorn before sitting bag down again.

He placed the warm mug in her hands, letting her take a sip as her nerves became steadier, “Feeling a bit better?”

Pomni nodded slowly.

“Good, take another breath and tell me what happened,” he told her, already listening.

“It’s gonna sound stupid,” she muttered.

“Don’t worry, you’re talking to the king of stupid here,” Jax nudged her shoulder lightly, that got a quirk of a smile from her, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

“You won’t believe me,” her voice was barely a whisper.

“Hey,” he took her hand in his. “Trust me when I say I’ll believe anything you say.”

She gulped, taking a breath, “I was walking through the park yesterday and I saw a man by the lake. I though nothing of it at first before he reached out to me, asking for help. I went over to him and it looked like he was crying. I got scared, I didn’t want to leave him so I asked if he was alright. He then asked for my name, so I told him…that’s when he smiled. Then he wasn’t a man anymore, but he was a body with teeth and eyes for a head!”

Jax heart plummeted, no.

“I looked around but it was like no one could see us,” she sniffled. “That was when he told me that he owned me, that I was his…fiancé. I thought this was a weird dream, that I would wake up soon. But then I saw this ring on my finger.” She showed Jax. “I tried getting it off, but each attempt was so painful, and it kept proving that I definitely wasn’t dreaming. He said I had some time but he’ll be back for our wedding.”

She looked back up to Jax, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

“Jax you have to believe me!” Pomni’s voice trembled. “I don’t know what to do! I don’t know if he’s watching me right now! I’m so scared!”

“Hey, hey,” he cradled her face in his hands. “I believe you.”

“Y-you do?” Pomni’s voice trembled. “How?”

“Because…” Jax grimaced. Of all the ways he wanted to tell her, this was far from what he had in mind. “Because I’m one of them.”

Before Pomni could say another word, Jax’s human features melted away. In his place and clothes stood a tall, fit rabbit like man stood in front of her. Pomni’s words were stuck in her throat, the feeling of his fur hands on her cheeks was the only thing helping her stay grounded. “T-that day in the park…did you trick me too?!”

“No!” Jax winced as she flinched at his volume. “No, all I did that day was cast a small good luck charm that would last a few hours. But that was it. Pomni, everything we have done together was all your choice. I know you’re scared and confused and you have every right to be. But everything we’ve done together was the truth. I was gonna tell you, believe me I was. But not like this, and I’m so sorry you had to find out this way.”

“T-the man who did this, who was he?” Pomni asked.

Jax’s eyes became turn, a bitter taste on his tongue, “Caine. He’s the prince from my realm. The reason why no one could see you was because of a cloaking spell. That’s how he managed to force the engagement on you.”

“Your realm?” Pomni tilted her head.

“The fae realm, where people like me reside,” Jax explained. “Caine is the prince there. But he shouldn’t have the authority to do this.”

Pomni trembled, tears leaking from her eyes again, “Oh god, am I trapped?”

“No,” Jax’s voice was low as he shook his head. “I’m gonna get you out of this, there has to be something going on. I’m not gonna let Caine do this to the woman I love-”

He froze.

He said it.

Pomni’s tearful eyes widened, her breath hitching.

Jax’s didn’t move, he didn’t know what to do. But he had said it, and that word wasn’t something he could reverse like a spell. He wanted to apologize, for adding more stress onto her shoulder. But he was interrupted by a pair of lips on his.

Pomni’s kiss was quick, like she was testing the waters, “I’m still confused, scared and mad. But…I love you too.”

Jax let out a shaking breath of relief mixed with joy, pressing his forehead to hers, “I’m getting you out of this engagement.”

“But what if Caine-”

“Caine isn’t going to do anything, he isn’t going to get away with hurting you like this,” Jax told her firmly. “I love you Pomni. I’m gonna fix this.”

Pomni let out another sob, pressing her lips to his again.

Jax sighed, kissing her was like breathing new life to him. He didn’t know where do start with getting right of the hex that Caine placed on her. But he did know this for sure. No one was going to take Pomni from him.

He was going to set her free.

But first things first, they had to get to the fae realm…

[liongoatsnake]

ESSAY: My Hearthome in ABZÛ

by Ocean Watcher from House of Chimeras (He/they) I was inspired to write this essay after attending the panel, "No Place Like Home: On Hearthomes" at Othercon 2024 Note: This won't be the official home of this essay. I'm planning on adding it to our system's website, The Chimeras Library sometime in the future either as a standalone essay or part of something bigger.

My Hearthome in ABZU

by Ocean Watcher from House of Chimeras Date Written: 15 August 2024 Approx. Word Count: ~2,180

Approx. Reading Time: ~17 minutes

“They say home is where the heart is, and for most people it consists of four walls and a welcome mat. For me, it’s the ocean.” ~ Bethany Hamilton, Soul Surfer. Directed by Sean McNamara. California: Sony Pictures Releasing, 2011.

Defining Hearthome

A hearthome is a location, whether real or otherwise, that an individual has a strong emotional connection toward to the point it feels like a “home,” typically despite never having lived or spent a significant amount of time there. The specifics on what qualifies as a hearthome within this general definition is largely up for personal interpretation.

The location in question can be as all-encompassing as a whole planet all the way down to something much, much smaller. The location could be a real place (whether that be one that still currently exists or a location that once existed but doesn’t anymore), a setting depicted in fictional media, or something else entirely. It can also be a specific easily named location or merely a general description of a place. Finally, the exact kind of emotional connection and feeling like “home” a location can elicit can range from a feeling of familiarity, of comfort and relaxation, safety, nostalgia, homesickness, and/or more. In short, within the definition of hearthome there are many possibilities on how the experience can exist.

The term used to describe someone who has a hearthome or the state of having a hearthome is sometimes called hearthic, though not everyone uses it. (So, for example someone might say “I have a hearthome in [insert place here]” rather than saying “I am [insert place here]hearthic.” Whether hearthic is used or not alongside the term hearthome is largely personal preference.

Describing ABZÛ

ABZÛ (also written as Abzû) is a video game initially released in 2016. The game fits within several genres including adventure, simulation, and art video game. It has no dialogue and so the story is told solely through visuals. The main draw of the game is the graphics put into the diverse ocean environments and the wide range of marine life that inhabits each area. Most of ABZÛ is home to animal species that can be found in today’s oceans; however, there are over a dozen or so species that appear in the game that went extinct a long time ago.

The gameplay itself consists of the player controlling an android diver exploring a large variety of ocean environments in a vast ocean and getting to see a myriad of marine life at every turn.

Knowing the backstory of what occurs isn’t needed, but for some context: Deep at the bottom of this ocean was a primordial source of infinite energy. Where the energy permeated from the ground life spontaneously came into being. An ancient civilization discovered they could collect and use it to create (marine) life whenever and wherever they wished. However, at some point, they created machines to automate the process. The creation of these machines caused a disruption of the natural flow of life as they took up so much energy they drained the vitality of the ocean away. The civilization disappeared, leaving their machines to continue to operate. The objective of the player-controlled robot diver, another creation of the ancient civilization, is to return the energy back to the ocean and put an end to the machines causing the destruction.

ABZÛ is overall a short game, with most players seeming to complete it within an hour and thirty minutes to two hours, on average.

Home is Where the Heart Is Indeed

So, my hearthome is ABZÛ.

To start, I want to put some context between the game ABZÛ and my hearthome ABZÛ. The environments in the game are striking and hold an emotional importance to an extent that I have labeled it as a hearthome; however, the ABZÛ that I think of in my mind’s eye and thoughts is not just an exact mirror of the game. That is because the ABZÛ I have conceptualized in my own mind is laid out like a normal(ish) ocean thanks to some noemata I have.

The noemata I have reads that all the “game-y” elements necessary for it to function as, well, a game, aren’t present in the idea of ABZÛ that makes up my hearthome. So, all the things necessary to keep a player in a defined area and on a specific path are absent. Further, all the different locations shown in the game would exist in a much more natural way. Plus, even more biodiversity would exist than shown in the game itself (as it is only populated with a little more than a few hundred different species whereas a more realistic ocean would have tens of thousands). Basically, the concept of ABZÛ in my mind looks and functions a lot more like a natural ocean (if a much, much more vibrant and filled with even more aquatic life, one).

I also have noemata that reads that while the old structures of the civilization still exist in a way like how they appear in the game, the inverted pyramid machines have long broken down and been reclaimed by the ocean and there are no unnatural dead zones. (So, I guess, one could say my hearthome is based off how things look at the end of the game.)

So, there is all that.

That is all well and good, but now I want to cover why exactly I distinguish ABZÛ as a hearthome; why I feel it warrants a special label of significance to me at all.

Not to state the obvious, but games are meant to be emotionally and/or mentally moving. They are meant to make a player feel something. ABZÛ is no different. It is meant to be a “pretty ocean” game, if you will. The environments in ABZÛ certainly reflect a more idealized and concentrated concept of ocean life (the magnitude of marine life at any particular point in the game itself being far more than an ecosystem could sustain). So, of course, the game is meant to be visually stunning and calming (save for a section in the game roughly 3/5ths in) in relation to the ocean, but my feelings for the game go deeper than what would be normally expected.  

It is true that much of the allure I have toward ABZÛ could be dismissed as merely as a natural consequence of my alterhumanity being so immersed in the ocean if not for the fact there are aspects of ABZÛ that draw out emotions and noemata that can’t be easily waved off in that manner. There are plenty of ocean-themed games and whatnot, yet it’s this specific one I have this connection toward. I have no idea why exactly I have a hearthome in this game specifically. I couldn’t tell you why. For whatever reason, its ABZÛ that resonates with me so strongly.

The biggest thing that stands out for me is the fact the area in the game that holds the most profound feelings of familiarity and belonging is the underwater city. At one point in the game, some underwater caves open into a vast underground space where a half-submerged city exists. (My view of things through some more noemata looks a lot more like an ancient city proper because, again, ABZÛ is a game so what exists is a lot more simplified and limited.) It is a city abandoned and in ruins and yet every surface is still covered in tile and brick of beautiful blue hues. Plants like trees, flowers, and vines populate the space above the water, lily pads and other floating plants pepper the water’s surface, and below sea plants like kelp, sea grass, and so much more cover much of the floor. Sunlight shines down from high above; my noemata filling in with the idea the city resides within a long extinct volcano rising above the ocean’s surface. Animals are everywhere both above and below the water. It’s this place I gravitate towards the most.  

But what exactly do I feel?

Something about it resonates with me. It is a place that feels like home to a part of me. Something about it feels deeply right and missed despite never having lived there nor do I feel like it is a place I am “from,” in any specific way. The feelings my hearthome draw out of me can mostly be best described as comfort, relief, safety, and rightness. There is something familiar about it, even upon my first playthrough. There is maybe even a tinge of nostalgia even though I strongly feel like there isn’t anything past-life-like at play as to why I have this hearthome. It just feels so familiar and comforting to me.

Starting out, my feelings also included what I can best describe as a yearning or longing to want to be there, even if only to visit. There was a desire to know a place like it with my own eyes as much as I knew it already in my heart somehow. So, there was a bit of almost homesickness there too. All these feelings are described in the past tense because of something that happened a bit after first playing the game.

Sometime after first playing ABZÛ, a sunken city with strong similarities to the one in the game was discovered in the ocean in our system’s innerworld. It is not a perfect exact copy, but it has all the same elements and looks how my hearthome appears through the lens of the noemata I have. I know I didn’t consciously will the location in our innerworld to come into existence, no one here can make such blatant conscious changes to our innerworld; however, I’m far less certain if my discovery of the game and the emotions it elicited didn’t cause the sunken city to appear in our innerworld as an involuntary reaction. (Not long after its appearance, several other areas in the game also found their way into the ocean of our system’s innerworld.) Since its appearance and discovery, I spend much of my time in these impacted areas, especially the sunken abandoned city. Since its appearance, the location has become a much beloved place to be, not just for me but also for many other aquatics in the system. The area is aesthetically pleasing and interesting to move around in. There is a lot of wildlife so hunting instincts can be indulged and so on. When not focused on fronting it is a nice place to exist in.

I’ve been aware of my emotional connection to the setting depicted in ABZÛ since July 2018 after playing it for the first time. Since buying it on Steam, I’ve logged many hours on it and have played through its entirety several times. However, I had not labeled my feelings towards this game as a hearthome until recently. Back then, I never questioned or analyzed my feelings surrounding the environments in the game. I knew it soothed something in me to play the game, going out to the sunken city in the innerworld for a while, or even just imagine myself swimming in one of my favorite areas, but I didn’t think about why exactly that was the case.

I didn’t make the connection between my experiences with ABZÛ to the term, hearthome until August of 2024. The moment of realization came while listening to the panel, “No Place Like Home: On Hearthomes” at Othercon 2024. Upon Rani, the panel’s host, describing the meaning of the term, I realized my feelings towards ABZÛ fit perfectly within the word. It wasn’t even a particularly jarring realization, and I am not sure how I had never made the connection before. Since that realization, I’ve come to label my feelings around the game, ABZÛ as my hearthome.

On the topic of alterhuman terms, I don’t use the term hearthic to refer to my state of having a hearthome at this time, solely because the word just doesn’t feel right when I try to use it in context. That could change, but for now, that is that.

I do consider my hearthome to be a part of my alterhumanity. My hearthome certainly fits neatly into my wider alterhumanity; ocean life and all that. That being said, I don’t think my hearthome has as strong of an impact on my daily experiences as other aspects do. My feelings around my hearthome are most often closer to something in the background more than anything. It is still there, and it is still important, it is just not as blatant and impactful in my daily life compared to something like my phantom body from my theriotypes. The fact parts of the game now exist in the innerworld and are prime locations for me to go after fronting to alleviate species dysphoria is perhaps the most blatant way my hearthome impacts my greater alterhumanity.

Bibliography

505 Games, ABZÛ. 505 Games, 2015, Microsoft Windows.

“Glossary,” Alt+H, https://alt-h.net/educate/glossary.php . Archived on 19 Apr 2020: https://web.archive.org/web/20200419100422/https://alt-h.net/educate/glossary.php

Lepidoptera Choir. “Hearthic” astrophellian on Tumblr. 9 April 2022. https://astrophellian.tumblr.com/post/681107250894503936/hearthic . Archived on 30 September 2022: https://web.archive.org/web/20220930143533/https://astrophellian.tumblr.com/post/681107250894503936/hearthic

Rani. “No Place Like Home: On Hearthomes,” Othercon 2024, 11 August 2024, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lYVF_R6v50Q

[dullgecko]

(Journalist Riz)

When Riz gets nominated for an award, he gets a plus one to the ceremony. Who do you think Riz would invite?

As much as he loves them all, I think Riz would probably either pick Sklonda, Adaine or Gorgug; depending on who is available. Maybe Fabian, but it all depends. Fig and Kristen are no gos.

Riz had gotten home before his mom that day, stopping by the mailbox in the lobby of the appartment to grab their mail before heading upstairs. It was mostly junk mail, a couple of bills (which he pocketed so he could pay them himself before his mom saw them) and weirdly enough a letter addressed directly to him.

It was suspicious. No one ever sent him letters. Riz flipped it over in his hand to look at the back (no return address, hand delivered obviously) before he felt the envelope between his fingers. Noting the weird texture and thickness of whatever was inside before giving a slight bend. Whatever it was had multiple pages enclosed plus at least one or two pages that were shorter than the edges of the rest.... this warranted some investigation. He wasn't about to open a weird letter without checking it for traps first.

Once he was securely in his apartment he placed the envelope on the kitchen table, first trying detect magic before starting on the usual trap-detection routine he had to go through every time he got an info packet from his rogue classes. The goblin found nothing. It was just a normal, untrapped, suspicious letter.

Now that he was relatively sure it wouldn't explode in his face he ripped it open, Riz digging one of his sharp claws under the flap an tearing a neat line along the top so he could access the contents. He slid the thinner pieces of paper out first, surprised that he was holding two glossy VIP tickets to an award ceremony in Bastion City in his hand. The letter that accompanied them getting unfolded and read quickly as he searched for the reason why.

Oh.... well. Wow okay.

He glanced at the tickets again, quickly digging out his crystal so he could bring up the website for the ceremony and scroll through the list of nominees. Yep. There he was. 'Riz Gukgak - nominated for his piece exposing the unethical hunting of sapient species for level grinding in the Mountains of Chaos'.

There was a fairly substantial cash prize if he won too and he honestly didn't think he'd ever held that much money in one go before (saved for the cursed coins in Kalvaxus's hoard, and that didn't count in his mind).

The rogue flopped heavily onto his couch, still clutching the letter and tickets in one hand and his crystal in the other while he stared at the ceiling. Sure he was aware his article had been popular, the Bastion City Newspaper having bought it from him for a decent amount of money, but he didn't think it was that good. He'd written it on a whim, something he'd discovered incidentally while working a different job for the LPRTF that had left him with a lot of information buzzing around in his head but nowhere to put it other than into an article. This was... wild.

He glanced at the letter and tickets again, holding them up and snapping a photo before sending a text with the picture to his mom.

//Hey. I've been nominated for an award. You free Thursday night next week? They sent me a ticket for a plus one.//

//Honey thats amazing! Of course! I'll let work know I won't be free. We can discuss details when we get home. I'm so PROUD of you.//

Riz laughed, flicking over to the group chat as well to update his friends and getting a swarm of similar texts, though they were more packed with emojis than his mothers had been. It had been Fig that noticed the second ticket, the archdevil reposting the picture into the chat after circling the extra ticket in red.

//Omg who are you taking as your plus one?! Do you have someone you want to ask out maybe? >:3//

//No. Dude. I've already asked my mom.//

//Lol figured. You'll have to tell us how it goes! Down to the second updates.//

The next few days had been hectic. Between school and work he had barely any downtime as it was but Fabian had insisted he get a new suit for the ceremony. Riz had protested that his normal suits were fine but he apparently had no say in the matter, the half elf saying it was a gift to congratulate him on his success and basically dragging him from store to store in his quest for the best. The girls had kidnapped his mom though, something he found out after he got home (arms overloaded with a new suit, and shoes, and socks, and cufflinks) and found his mother in a similar state of overwhelemed overshopped exhaustion surrounded by her own pile of clothes.

And so the day of the awards ceremony came, Sklonda getting a little teary eyed on seeing Riz in his outfit because he looked so much like his father. They were hustled quickly into the dark theatre once they arrived, the pair of them sitting through nearly an hour of speeches and awards before Riz's own catagory was announced.

He felt a little out of his own body when they announced that he'd won, heavy feet making their way up onto the stage to accept his award and cheque and got ready to make his speech. The rogue blinking in surprise when he noticed his party seated near the far back of the room waving wildly at him as he gave them a confused look.

Of course they were here. He shouldn't have ever doubted that they WOULD be. Between Fabians connections and Figs ability to get into places she shouldn't there was no way they'd miss out on this.

Riz shook his head in amusement, giving them a small wave back before clearing his throat to speak. Having to take a few seconds before he was finally able to get the words out.

[thefirstknife]

Hello! Another day, another ask from yours truly. I was wondering what the "first knife" is? I've seen a few people mention it in relation to the shot of the veiled figure holding the shard of glass from the launch trailer, and i've never heard of this in lore. But it sounds pretty important, so now I'm curious. Thank you :)

It's referring to one of Unveiling's pages, called The First Knife. So the easiest and shortest answer is: we don't know! :D

But people have been speculating and trying to decipher it for years, as with all things from Unveiling, which I believe is a little bit of a futile thing to try and do because Unveiling is a metaphorical religious text. Essentially. It's been recently strongly implied that this text was written by the Witness pretending to be something else and using its lies and metaphores to convert the Guardians to its side (Unveiling was first released during Shadowkeep, before we knew about the Witness).

In The First Knife page, the author of the text is continuing with the explanation of, basically, how the universe began, through allegorical language. The Gardener and the Winnower argue about how things should be, the Gardener decides to insert itself "into the game" (the universe?) and this makes the Winnower "discover the first knife." It appears to be an allegorical way of saying that concept/idea of violence was invented, essentially. More under for length:

The Winnower appears to represent a specific concept that the Witness is pushing for which we know better as the sword logic: you have prove your right to exist and if you can't, you will be killed and therefore you never mattered at all. The Hive used this philosophy to eradicate countless of species, and so did the Witness with its disciples. This philosophy of winnowing is something that the Witness' species felt like was necessary in the universe to give meaning to everything that exists; there cannot just be the "meaningless" creation of the Gardener, there has to be a Winnower who will enact the violence and cull those that aren't worthy of existing.

The First Knife in that case would be a sort of a symbolical representation of the winnowing and how it all started. This is also referenced again in the lore book Inspiral, from Lightfall, in the page called Winnowing (last two pages of Inspiral read like a continuation of Unveiling):

It is the winnower that discovers the first knife, but it is not done without the gardener. This, too, is a tradition: a knife does not come to exist without something that must be cut. A woody stem, a colored petal, a vital vessel. The first victims of the blade.

It goes on to end the whole lore book with:

There can be no gardens without knives.

Which to me sounds like an attempt to convince us that the universe cannot exist without those that would do what the Witness is doing. That someone has to winnow, someone has to use the knife to cut things away. And to add to that, it could also reflect this idea that all of life is suffering, that there is no meaning to anything anyone does, that most lifeforms aren't worthy of existing and that a winnower in the universe will makes things better. That the universe should be made better by bringing on the final shape.

Seeing that veiled figure (which may be representing the Witness' species) with a shard of glass/rock (?) that looks like a sharp threatening object (knife?) sparked people's imaginations! It could be a representation of this concept, perhaps, or something completely unrelated. But the appearance of the veiled figures is so interesting because until now we've not had any explanation for them, other than their connection to the Pyramids/Darkness.

Now, at least from the few trailer shots, it seems likely that they represent the Witness' species or that they're in some form connected to that or some other symbol from the Witness' time as a civilisation. We've seen them as statues with the Witness' species and in all Pyramids. Curiously, the one in the Witness' flagship Pyramid appears to be tucked away in a hidden room, as if the Witness did not want it in a place of prominence; possibly signifying its attempt to detach itself from its roots? This is my old post about it before we knew of the Witness' origins.

We might find out some concrete information about the veiled figures in TFS; that would be really cool! They've been a sort of a constant since Shadowkeep and have been the cause of many debates and much speculation! Nothing I said here is in any way conclusive or final, naturally.

In any case, that image of the veiled figure with the sharp object could be a representation of a member of the Witness' species with the first knife, symbolically showing us how they discovered the philosophy of winnowing and dedicated themselves to it so completely that it turned the entire civilisation into this malicious angry entity.

A lot of people are also once again speculating that this could be representing the Winnower, a separate entity from the Witness, similar to the Gardener (Traveler). This is something a lot of people expected and wanted ever since Unveiling was revealed which was always a little bit weird to me because Unveiling openly describes itself as an allegory. A lot of people were disappointed that the Witness was shown as our big bad and some still expect there to be something even bigger and badder than the Witness, which I just don't think would make sense or would be beneficial to anything.

The story of Destiny has always been about choice. Repeatedly throughout every piece of information we've been told over and over that Light and Darkness are tools; they do not inherently tell us anything about their wielders. Using the Light does not make you inherently good, as we've seen from the stories of early Lightbearers; bloodthirsty violent Warlords. And more recently, as we've started learning more about Darkness, it repeatedly became apparent that simply using the Darkness does not make you evil; from the creation of the Awoken, through Drifter's Gambit, and all the way to Stasis and Strand and all the extra information about the Darkness and its users throughout the universe, we've known that this isn't an evil force by default. This was fully and completely confirmed in Lightfall; Light and Darkness aren't opposing moral forces, but the Witness desperately thinks they should be so it shapes itself to oppose the Traveler.

So there being a Winnower that governs all of Darkness which is an even bigger enemy to us than the Witness would just be bizarre to me, because Darkness is not inherently anyone's enemy. It's much bigger than that, as a fundamental force of the universe, as much as the Light is; it is our choice to use it that turns it into what it is. Our choices give morality to our tools, not the other way around. I personally really enjoy this because it creates a much richer world where you can't simply point at a Darkness user and say "evil." Darkness as a force of memories and emotions and history and thought and consciousness is so much more interesting to me than there being some evil Winnower. The Witness misinterpreting this and twisting the Darkness into just being "winnowing" is so much more fitting because it's about choice: the Witness' species chose to do that and they were wrong.

The "knife" allegory fits here as well, because a knife is not inherently good or bad; it's about your choice how to use it. The Witness chose to use it as a weapon.

Obviously, as I said before, none of this is final or complete. And who knows? It's possible that some information may be revealed in the future that turns everything upside down again and maybe there is another entity somewhere. But I'm mostly interested in the stuff we do know, rather than "what if" speculations simply because if we go by that, we could make any option sound true and plausible.

Also, in one of the early lore pieces, a grimoire from D1 which is from the POV of the Traveler, also mentions this imagery of a knife:

The knife had a million blades. And you were giant, powerful and swift. But the knife pinned you. Cut your godly flesh away. ... The knife stole much more than your body.

This is the Traveler most likely recounting the Collapse. The whole "knife" thing has been mentioned a lot throughout the lore, though only in these fairly metaphorical pieces. However, people have been looking into it for a long time and Unveiling turned this whole thing into a big debate and point of speculation. Inspiral reignited it 4 years later and now we also got this brief little snippet from the trailer so everyone is out here losing it and will continue losing it until we finally play. I am honestly hoping that some of this will never be fully explained and that some of it will always remain in this state of almost religious metaphor.

So long answer? We still don't know. But it's something people love thinking about and debating so this is why everyone is discussing it and how it might relate to that phrase, "the first knife." A lot more could be said as well, probably triple the size of this post.

Highly recommend (re)reading Unveiling, but also Inspiral and TFS CE. Unveiling remains my favourite lore book of all time, because to me, it only gains in its brilliance the more people question it. It's such a unique piece of writing that can be a complete lie, a complete truth, or something in between, depending on who you ask. It's a mythology without full context, a religious text and propaganda, possibly with some truth sprinkled in. And we may never know which pieces of the text are which. Perfect.

[wollemi-whump]

Whump Ask Game! :)

🍪 A comfort dynamic/trope/scene/etc. you enjoy

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👽 Favorite nonhuman whumpee species or character

😍 One of the earliest whump scenes/stories you enjoyed

🔍 How you discovered "whump" or the whump community

🎬 A favorite whump gifset you've made or reblogged

🎁 A whump thing you're always delighted to see

💡A creative whump idea you're proud of

📖 A favorite whump story you've written (or someone else's if you've never written anything)

🪤 [Free question! Answer a random whump question sent by the asker!]

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❤️‍🩹 An emotional whump scene/trope you enjoy

🤕 A physical whump scene/trope you enjoy

[walldwellereater]

[I may have gotten the sudden urge to write the file for the wall dweller predator of of nowhere, so take this!]

Z-910

Codename: Shifters

Z-910 is the designation for a species of creatures with the ability to shape-shift their appearance. It should be noted that each Z-910 specimen has a different preferred form that is written into their DNA. Further studies have shown that the form of the Z-910 specimen does have impacts on the behavior of the specimen. The preferred form of the Z-910 specimen acts as a base for the changes caused by the shape shifting to add onto. While Z-910 specimens can change their form fully, it is believed to exhaust the specimen faster than shifting of from it's base. Z-910 specimens all have carnivorous diets, with a notable preference for Z-90, which they are believed to be the natural predator of.

The three Z-910 specimens that are in containment are (at the time of writing) being held at Site ⬛⬛⬛, due to the ongoing containment breach in the Hadal Blacksite.

Z-910 was first discovered on October 25th, 1973, but it's theorized to have existed in some form since the time of the ancient Greeks. The first Z-910 specimen was not caught until October 1st, 2025, designated Z-910-P, with two more specimens being captured on October 4th and October 13th, designated as Z-910-S and Z-910-A respectively.

Z-910-P's preferred form is that of a quadrupedal fanged reptilian that bears striking resemblance to Z-907, with the difference being that it has large teeth-like spines along it's legs. Z-910-P was captured while attempting to defend a group of multiple young Z-910 specimens from an armed mobile task force squadron led by Captain Franklin S. Ward, who were completing an unrelated mission. Upon further investigation, the Z-910 children were found to have died from starvation multiple weeks prior. It is unknown if Z-910-P was aware of this or not. Z-910-P is believed to have a 'caretaker' form, with the role of protecting the young of other Z-910 specimens from danger.

Z-910-S has the preferred form of a theater comedy mask that constantly produces a flesh-like substance from the back of the mask, known as Z-910-S-2. Z-910-S also has the strongest known regeneration of any creature that has been in containment in the entirety of Urbanshade's history, as well as highly acidic, tar-like blood. Z-910-S was captured following multiple reports of inhuman crying coming from an apartment room in the city of Daytona, Florida. When Captain Ward and his squad breached the door to the room, they found it to be filled with Z-910-S-2, which had fully covered up Z-910-S. The M.o.S.A cleanup protocol was followed to reach Z-910-S, which was found inside an open space building a humanoid body. It is unknown what Z-910-S would have done with the body, as well as what function Z-910-S would have served in a society of Z-910 specimens. Further testing is needed.

Z-910-A has the preferred form of a small, spider-like arachnid with an exoskeleton made of human bone. Z-910-A is a brain parasite which, once it infects someone, will cause them to lose their emotions, positive and negative, as well as their sense of touch, effectively removing any sense of self. After an unknown amount of time, the infected will become murderous, seeking to kill all creatures (outside of Z-910 specimens) in a ⬛⬛ by ⬛⬛ stud radius. They will henceforth be called Z-910-A-2. If successful, Z-910-A-2 will die. It is believed the corpse will be used to produce more Z-910 specimens, although it is untested as it's radius would extend into the rest of the site. Z-910-A (as well as Z-910-A-2) were discovered when Captain Ward and his squadron were responding to calls claiming the nearby abandoned Vannah hotel had the smell of rot coming from inside. As the squadron entered the hotel, they were locked in by Z-910-A-2, who killed all but 4 members directly (Excluding Captain Ward himself, Lieutenant Jackson Johnson, Lieutenant Thomas Pyne, and Private Ryan Winston) before being captured. It should be noted that Lieutenant Pyne was infected, but was able to be contained prior to becoming a Z-910-A-2 specimen. Like the other Z-910 specimens in containment, once infected, Z-910-A-2 will lose its ability to speak, instead communicating with other Z-910 specimens through growls. It is believed that Z-910-A is the reproducer of the Z-910 species, with the role of clearing out a safe space, creating young from the carcasses of successful Z-910-A-2, and having said young be protected by Z-910-P.

It should be noted that all Z-910 subjects have at least shown a disliking to letting other creatures near, with Z-910-P being outwardly hostile. This avoidance does not apply to the other Z-910 specimens, supporting the theory of Z-910 specimens being social creatures, including Z-910-S.

Note: There is currently one human test of the effects of Z-910 genes. However, Z-919 has proven unwilling to cooperate, attacking and killing the remaining members of Captain Ward's squadron, including the captain himself. Z-919 is currently being monitored through the functioning cameras inside of the Hadal Blacksite​. If encountered, bring him to the surface alive and notify HQ.

*"We'll be able to break him" is crudely written underneath*

If these documents are shown to any unauthorized personnel, you'll be put up for demotion, and any cover up fees will be sent to your relatives.

----------------

[I want to reiterate that I mostly wrote this in one afternoon.]

[If only I could have the same motivation to draw 919's ref]

@crawling-through-vents

[The Z-907 mentioned]

[tyitri]

Entangled Heart - Chapter 2

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader

Summary: The world had gone to hell a few years ago. No one cared about preserving other beings, endangered species. The crown of creation was quickly deemed a threat, and the hunters became the hunted.The world changed, we were no longer at the top of the food chain. The plants were.

They passive-aggressively spread, allowing a new plant species, called the 'Verdantia aurea' or Goldleaf Fern, to thrive. No one knew it was an invasive species. Other regional plants died, throwing the world out of balance. Many still remember the initial reports.It felt like the Seven Plagues of the End Times, written as if in the Bible.

You're part of that fucked ecosystem now together with a few survivors who made an oath to save humanity or at least whats left of it. One of them in particular doesn't seem to like you, everyone calls him Ghost. And you're pretty sure it's not because of the report when you were found nude, nestled between a bush of Goldleaf Fern itself by some Scientists.

Tags: Post Apocalyptic,Slowburn, No use of Y/N, Nicknames, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Mild Gore, Violence.

Wordcount: 2,7k

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Your grip on the rifle tightened as you thought you saw things moving in the shadows of the houses. When you tried to alert Soap and nudged him gently, he started to chuckle.

"Chill out, Rookie. It's over. The thing is full for now, we won't have any more trouble. At least now we can check out the buildings. Its death wasn't entirely pointless."

Were you the only one who found this entire situation absurd? It was simply surreal—Soap's chuckling, Ghost's indifference, and Price's detachment.

"Who knows if it really hunts out of hunger," you mutter quietly, your gaze returning to the twitching movements in the darkness.

"Those are the roots of the main distributor," he explained. "Damn thing. No sign of the real one yet. We would have already turned it to ash." Soap must have followed your gaze because you couldn't take your eyes off the writhing, twisting roots.

"Main distributor?" Despite being trained by König in the US, who had given you a crash course on some techniques and updated your knowledge, you still had significant gaps.

"Damn, Gaz wasn't lying when he said the new recruit was from the moon," Soap said, touching his forehead and grinning. "Tell me at least you know that, absurdly, we’re fighting plants." His casual demeanor might have been a good distraction if someone from your team hadn't just become compost for this 'main distributor.'

"If I were from the moon, I definitely wouldn't have volunteered to be sent to this shithole," you mutter, loosening your grip on the rifle slightly. Your gaze flickers to Price and Ghost, who have moved a few meters away and seem to be quietly communicating. Soap stays by your side, likely to watch over you.

Soap grins at you and then starts to regain your attention. "Well, some scientists have discovered that there’s a main distributor that can spread more seeds and thus expand everywhere. So, everything you see here—by that, I mean plants that move—is just a single plant within a four-kilometer radius."

That makes you think. One single plant had so much power over such a large area. Humanity would really need to prepare to change its way of life. But when you looked at Ghost—and you did so rather obviously at that moment—you doubted that a new way of life would be for everyone. He had probably grown up with war and danger, but what did you know, and it shouldn't concern you.

"And it hasn't been found yet?" you respond thoughtfully. "How do we know that such a main distributor exists?"

Now he looks at you, puzzled, and you could almost hear the gears turning in his head.

"Well, some scientists said so," he replied hesitantly, "and these things don't attack us again after such a situation," he added confidently. You looked at him skeptically. "So, this has happened before?"

He cleared his throat for a moment, and it seemed you had touched on a somewhat uncomfortable point.

"Hey, Soap, Rookie, we're going through the alleys to secure everything!" Price called to you. They had already moved quite a distance away. Ghost also looked back at the two of you, staring at Soap for a while before looking at you, his expression darkening.

"Come on, Rookie," Soap said, and you nodded absently. You didn't understand why Ghost always looked at you with such cold contempt.

"What’s our Lieutenant's problem, anyway?" you asked Soap quietly, holding the masked man's gaze.

"Oh, Ghost? He's been through a lot."

That didn’t surprise you in the slightest. "Well, that much is clear," you replied, breaking eye contact as the whole group moved through the alley. You inspected the wall, noticing it was crumbling, with small vines creeping along the old graffiti and new life sprouting from it. As you reached out to touch the plants, Ghost growled a warning in front of you.

"If you do that, I'll shoot your hand off, I promise you."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him. You knew you were the new one among them and hoped Ghost would be a bit nicer to you soon, but life here wasn't a wish-fulfillment story. It never was.

"Thanks for the information, but I'll pass on that unnecessary crap. These are just normal plants. The vegetables on our roof don’t attack us either!"

"Unnecessary crap, huh? You could have died instead of the other rookie, for all I care. Looked like a normal plant to me too," he grumbled, his voice gravelly.

Price intervened and pointed cautiously to a side entrance, changing the subject. "Our lock has been broken," he said, calmer than expected, nudging the remnants of the lock aside with his boot. The chain, still trying to cling to the piece of scrap, jingled a little.

"And what's the problem with it being broken?" You inspected the lock, noticing the peeling paint on its remnants. Soap stepped in to explain. "We lock almost every building in our area after we’ve checked it. Depending on the color of the lock, we know whether it’s a building with supplies or one with potential dangers," he explained. So far, Soap was the most helpful person in this group. Ghost seemed to keep an eye on the surroundings, but he was more critical than helpful. Price didn’t contribute much to the conversations, but he led the group.

"What about buildings without doors?" After all, the building where the rookie disappeared had no markings. "We place something in front of the door that corresponds to the color. If we can’t find anything, we use spray paint. Buildings without markings should be avoided," he said with a grin, as if he had read your thoughts. Soap couldn’t explain further because Price pushed the heavy door open with his right shoulder and disappeared into the darkness. Ghost followed him. Soap patted you twice on the shoulder before nudging you toward the door, and you took a step into the darkness.

"Don't worry, we'll only find supplies here," Soap said behind you as you hesitantly put one foot in front of the other. Only a few beams of moonlight penetrated through the boarded-up windows, and you scanned the shelves. Canned food, hygiene products, cigarettes, and some sugary drinks caught your eye, but almost everything else was empty.

"Shit, those bastards made off with a whole crate of cans," Ghost cursed from the next room. "Clothes too," added Price as he returned to the main room with Soap and you. You took in the information, but the rest of their conversation blended with the sounds of the night. Something else had caught your attention. You had to adjust to the darkness, but you quickly noticed a similar-looking vine apparently trying to creep toward the windows. You had a bad feeling about it, but something in your body urged you to follow it. You followed the vine and disappeared behind some empty shelves. You opened the door to another room, which seemed to be a bathroom.

A dusty sink, a toilet, and a bathtub with the curtain drawn. As you glanced at the floor, you saw more than just the one vine from before. Several small ones slithered from the bathtub toward the door. As you took a step toward the bathtub, you noticed an open box with some cans and stacked clothes. Wasn't that the missing clothing?

Cautiously, you pulled the curtain aside and saw a person huddled inside, wrapped in the tangled mesh of this fern. Startled, you took a step back and stumbled over the root winding its way out of the bathroom. You braced yourself for the impact on the dusty tile floor, but it never came. Instead, you were caught by something—or someone—standing like a bouncer behind you. Ghost. Your fingertips dug into his tactical vest, and you looked up in panic at his cool eyes, the only part of him that seemed to show any humanity. He held your gaze for a few more seconds before the bathtub with the corpse wrapped in plant material and the box of cans caught his attention.

"Supplies found!" he called into the hall behind him, pushing you aside to lift the crate. He walked past you as if nothing had happened, leaving you a bit unsettled.

You wanted to ask what they were going to do with the person in the bathtub, but the question became unnecessary when he stopped at the door and gestured wordlessly for you to get out of the room.

You cast one last glance at the corpse before running out of the room, and he slammed the door shut behind you.

"Price, Soap! We need an empty shelf here, the weeds are already coming out of the drains!"

It didn’t take long for the other team members to push one of the shelves in front of the door to block it. You were surprised they didn't try using chlorine or other chemicals. You could still see cleaning supplies on the shelves.

"Everyone, fill your backpacks. You can take a little something extra, just don't overdo it," Price said, his gaze lingering on you. You nodded almost imperceptibly and carefully made your way through the aisles. When you glanced over your shoulder, you saw Soap filling his bag greedily, grinning. The others were taking their time. You started filling your bag with small packages of rice.

Just as you reached for the next bag on the shelf, your fingers brushed against a leaf. You thought it might be fern. But there was no time for panic. An electrifying sensation surged through your body in seconds. Memories flooded through you—memories you had never had before. Children laughing and playing on a playground while you sat on a bench. Fragments of a relationship with a young woman flashed in your mind, memories of working in a warehouse, and finally, a memory of yourself, huddled in a bathtub, as roots and vines slithered toward you. You felt the fear and panic of this person, for these weren't your memories; they belonged to the dead man in the bathroom.

"Fern!"

Someone called out to you from a distance; everything seemed so surreal. It was as if reality and fantasy were blurring together, as if the countless sleepless nights and days were now taking their revenge.

"Goddammit, Fern!"

A strong yank backward snapped you out of the thoughts, out of the illusion that made you feel like you were that man. At first, you didn’t realize how heavily you were breathing. Only when reality caught up did you feel your lungs burning, as if you had run a marathon.

"Goddammit, Rookie! Answer when someone calls you," Soap hissed. You still seemed dazed, glancing around a bit disoriented as your eyes adjusted to the dim light.

Your head felt like it was full of cotton, and Soap's words sounded muffled. "I was lost in thought," you admitted hesitantly. "Sorry." Carefully, you stuffed another bag of rice into your backpack. You noticed your hand trembling. Soap noticed it too, but he said nothing, instead grabbing your collar and dragging you toward the exit where the others were, while you quickly slung your backpack over your shoulder and stumbled after him.

"Found the girl," Soap replied, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "You okay? You look like you're about to be sick," Price said, his tone partly indifferent. Ghost just stared at you with his intense gaze. Even when you parted your dry lips, hardly any words came out.

"I'm fine," you tried to respond firmly, pulling yourself away from Soap.

"I thought König was sending us his best recruit, not a dead weight," Ghost hissed before turning and heading back outside. Your eyebrows knitted together. Soap just sighed and glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. "I mean, Ghost isn't entirely wrong. Colonel König's training isn't exactly easy. Not sure how you managed it," he said casually, as if sprinkling salt into a freshly opened wound.

You pressed your lips together, nodded, and watched as Soap adjusted his pace to walk alongside Ghost. Now you stood next to Price, who also started moving slowly. Not wanting to be left behind in the store, you followed him and watched as he locked the door with a new lock and marked it with a colored dot.

"You seem a bit too clumsy, Rookie," Price said hesitantly as he started walking again, and you fell into step behind him.

"I haven't had much contact with plants, sir," you answered honestly and respectfully. The whole situation worried you a bit. Would they bench you or categorize you differently? You didn't know, and that uncertainty scared you. "But your file says otherwise, Fern," he replied with a certain emphasis, and your body tensed up. "I thought it was still in the US," you tried to lie or at least play dumb, considering how you had already acted today.

"Don't play dumb, Fern. I know where and under what circumstances you were found." Silence settled between the two of you before you both started moving again. You nodded quietly. "That's why König sent you to us so early. The base here might not stand for much longer. He said you could help us with that," Price admitted. You didn’t know what you could do. After all, you had no real idea what Price was talking about.

"I honestly don't know, sir," you replied firmly. Silence lingered between you. The topic was not closed, and the tension remained. Only the crunching of gravel scattered on the streets could be heard. Until Ghost stopped in front of you and raised his hand.

Before you stretched a building that creaked and crumbled. It almost looked as if one half would soon collapse inward, burying the street and the abandoned vehicles beneath it. A huge root seemed to be squeezing the building. If the situation were different, it would probably have been astonishing, if not a little aesthetic.

"We sneak through, over Checkpoint Charlie," Ghost said tersely as instruction, then made a hand gesture. The gesture would probably have sufficed for the other two, but you couldn't understand it. König didn't have enough time, or so he said to you. He taught you a lot, you learned quickly, and if you were being honest, you didn't know where it all came from. You barely did any sports, maybe just enough to stay fit, but still, you could anticipate, block, and even deliver blows. Even König was impressed that someone as small as you could withstand his blows and catch on so quickly.

Just as you snapped out of your trance, you saw Ghost crouching, darting across the street and staying covered. He pressed his back against the target, an overturned pickup truck. Now he looked at you, his ice-blue eyes focusing on you, and he made a head motion. That was the signal. You cast one last glance at the huge root winding around the building. Its movements had ceased, but that didn't stop you; on the contrary.

In a crouch, you sprinted across the street. Too late. The building was crushed by the root, and the debris and concrete walls fell onto the street, just as the root descended upon it. With a dive, you managed to find cover beside Ghost, behind the truck. However, the dust from the building, the shock of the fallen root, and the noise disoriented you. Ghost shouted something in your direction, but you could barely make it out until he brutally grabbed your shoulder, dragging you behind him, almost aimlessly trying to get off the street and orienting himself by other building walls.

Only one thing ran through your mind. You could have been dead. The stress tugged at your consciousness, but your adrenaline kept you running with Ghost until he pulled you into a building and pushed you down under the window, while he stood guard beside you. "...not far!" was the only thing you heard from your savior and lieutenant before you collapsed and the world enveloped you in blackness. You weren't prepared for such situations. And today, it seemed the team wasn't either.

[askbensolo]

Moving Sale! (Theed Area)

Yooo what up it’s ya boi. Due to Circumstances™, I am moving back in with my parents. My move date is December 21st so I’m trying to get rid of all this stuff before then.

I am local to the Theed area on Naboo.

In-person pickup is preferred, but if you are willing to pay for shipping we can negotiate.

Serious offers only.

Will autograph any item upon request.

FOR SALE:

Twin mattress: Only three years old, comes with a bed frame. Emits a slight aura of depression and male virginity, but it’ll air out, maybe. Asking price: 200 credits.

Desk: Black mockwood, in good condition, has some mild tearstains that seem to have become permanent but I think they give it character. Has served me during many a study session, and borne many poorly-written yet impassioned poems. Asking price: 100 credits.

Set of drawers: Shiny dark red plasteel. Three drawers. About an arm’s length across. At absolutely no additional cost to you, I will also throw in the figurine of General Jar-Jar Binks that my old roommate buried amidst my underwear as a joke. Asking price: 50 credits.

Assorted databank chips: My old college textbook files. Subjects include writing, government/galactic policy, galactic history, philosophy, nonhuman studies/species relations, and traditional Gungan theatre. Datareader not included (I broke mine). Why the hell did they force us to buy chips and datareaders and make that the only way to access the assigned reading instead of putting it on the HoloNet??? Oh yeah—because academia is a FREAKING SCAM—anyway— Asking price: 50% of each databank chip’s original price.

Graincooker: A good little graincooker. My mom has one already, so I don’t need mine anymore. Has a weird habit of splattering starch-water everywhere but I always found that oddly charming—she’s broken, just like meee! Asking price: 20 credits.

Possibly cursed WorldTrekker sneakers: Men’s size 11. I found these shoes on campus near the Philosophy building in senior year. They were exactly my size and looked brand new so I took them home. I wore them to my midterm oral presentation the next day for NHS 212, and when I was up at the front of the lecture hall I looked at my speech notes and the file had been corrupted and replaced by my grocery shopping list. My mind went blank. “Eggs sardines blue milk refresher paper bacta cream,” I said. “Uh…thank you.” Failed the midterm. Other effects of the cursed sneakers: buying said groceries only to find out while putting them away that every item was already spoiled (even the refresher paper somehow), becoming the hit-and-run victim of a freshman on a speeder bike, and receiving the second-worst haircut of my life. Don’t recommend wearing these yourself but do recommend weaponizing them against a suitable enemy. Asking price: 15 credits.

Many unused paper journals: I hoard these like heck. I have like—over twenty of these with various cover designs and I have come to accept that most of them will never be written in. A few of them have randomly used pages, so you might flip through one of ‘em and discover something weird and cryptic I wrote in an anxious haze. I consider that a bonus. Asking price: 10 credits per journal.

FOR FREE:

Various sweaters: They fit me when I was seventeen. They do not fit me now. Why do I still have them? Sentiment, maybe. They will probably fit you, if you are not 6’3 and not 220 pounds. I have like ten of these in the following colors: black, purple, dark green, dark blue, dark red. Sorta pilly, but comfy and soft.

Various food items: Dried starchroot noodles, tinned Naboo sardines, canned tipyip noodle soup, etc. Come over to my apartment and you can just straight-up raid the half of the pantry that’s mine.

A skein of Bantha’s Bounty brand yarn in the shade Naboo Lakeside: This was originally going to be a gift for someone, but it would be awkward now, I think. I don’t know crap about yarn (I had to look up what a “skein” was), but I think this one is supposed to be pretty high-quality. It’s a very pretty shade of blue—almost as pretty as the person I was gonna give it to. (Not that you ain’t pretty, pal—I’m sure you are.) Anyway, I am giving it away for free.

“Our First Life Day” ornament: This was also going to be a gift for someone. I will actually pay you 2 credits to take this off my hands, because every time I go to throw it away, I start crying and it’s a problem. Please remove it from my presence. It is dealing me psychic damage.

Thank you for your time. Please reply to this post if interested or if you have any questions.