#cloudy with a chance of doom

[0mochi0]

Oh, my God! I got a miracle! I got the comic book tonight! Oh, my God! :000 I will say this, I was very happy, surprised, delighted and inspired when I opened this bundle of happiness. The print quality is just perfect, it's a pleasure to read and enjoy the clarity. And that sweet letter on the first page! I burned with happiness. (qwq ) You did a great job creating a copy of the comic, and I'm inspired by how you bring your creativity to life!

Thanks so much for the opportunity to put your comic @khaliarart on the shelf and reread it! (qwq )

[khaliarart]

Teaser because I progressed a bunch on Volume 5 ⟡*:·ﾟ

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

Anno and Aka for the wonderful @khaliarart!!

These two have so much thought and worldbuilding behind them, which was SO cool to see. I crave that after rewatching the og show and seeing only snippets of Irken society. You can read their comic "cloudy with a chance of doom" if you want to see more of them, which is SO beautifully drawn?? Ok I'm done fawning now 😂

[khaliarart]

OH MY GOSH!! BONNIE TYSM!! This is so cute and I laughed so hard- for real, what asshole would order that, and make Aka pick it up

A little thank you for @khaliarart for her comic! >w<

Thank you so much for it and for all your work! It's amazing 💜

[smallestapplin]

the heats of a Dhampir

for those unaware, in castlevania SOTN Alucard has a monster form, much like his father, so pair that with vampire's having heats every 4 years and this was born.

Warning! : reader is enby afab, womb fucking, heats, Alucard being a little feral, established relationship, and shifting mid fuck.

minors do not interact!

-

-

Alucard's heat is worst than he thought, his mind cloudy, filling with more animalistic thoughts, his body reacting before he has a chance to process the situation. It made him want to avoid you, and trust he has tried, yet his feet move against him, taking him right back to you or to your home.

Your voice and presence like that of a siren calling to him, luring him in to his doom, your scent keeps him intoxicated and under your spell, though you know not of any of his struggles.

He's your loving and doting boyfriend, though you know something is up with his odd behaviors and getting fussy over your bed, filling your room with various food related items and drinks, while forming your blankets and pillows into a circle.

You awake surrounded, and with the blonde brining you yet another odd shiny item, and cuddling against you with low purrs. You jokingly tell him he must've been replace with a crow for a brain, but he doesn't seem to find it as assuming as you do.

You don't question it, just like you don't question him crawling into your now nest like bed, to leave kisses along your exposed neck. You don't question his needy whine as he slides a cold hand up your loose sleep shirt, cupping your tit in a loving squeeze, as he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, licking up the collum of your throat.

Silently pleading for your approval.

He can smell your want before even touching your pussy, smell how you're soaking through your panties.

"Adrian...!!" You squeak, but he's moving so fast! It's like a switch flipped in his mind, and all he can think about is ravaging your body, marking you, scenting you, mounting you.

Your panties are gone in a flash with his head buried between your thighs. Your face goes bright red at the sound of him inhaling your heady scent, a smell mixed of your sweat and arousal, it leaves his mind spinning. You toss your head back with a whimper, feeling his inhumanly long tongue rubbing between your folds, licking your clit and then back down to your weeping hole.

It takes everything in him to eat you out first, a sane part of him wanting you at least prepped for the fucking he knows his going to give you. Your pussy twitches watching him hump the bed, just knowing he's so turned on from your own need gets your body hot, your eyes struggling to not roll back just to see how needy he is.

His tongue pushing into you, the pointed tip just brushing relentlessly against your cervix, easily filling you. You grab a hold of his long blonde hair, gripping onto him like a life line as you buck your hips up, trying to grind against his face. His nose pressing perfectly against your clit, letting him easily overwhelm your senses.

"Adrian, Adrian! M'gonna- gonna cum-!!"

You let out a pitiful cry as he rips himself away from you, denying you your orgasm. His face dripping slick and drool, yet he doesn't care, he doesn't even seem to notice. He tears his pants away, tossing the now scraped fabric aside, freeing his aching cock.

You don't get to admire the beautiful sight of him for long before hes already pushing himself into you.

He's usually so much slower, much more loving towards you, but you're excited to see this new feral side of him. It's like you're truly being taken by a monster, just what you've dreamed of.

Alucard's body shakes, his eyes rolling back as he bottoms out, fully sheathed into your warm wet cunt. He doesn't give you a moment to breathe, his hips seemingly having a mind of their own as he ruts into you. Your legs are over his shoulders, with him leaning over you, his hands on either side of your head letting his sharp claw like nails tear into your pillow.

You cling to his biceps, crying out about how good he's making you feel.

"Oohh fuck! Fuck fuck fuuuck! So good, mm, haa! God, you're...you're fucking me so good. Please more, more ruin me!"

The room echoes with the sound of his hips wetly slapping into yours. He can't bare it, you're pleading sends him spiraling, his head feels like it's filled with cotton, he doesn't feel his body twisting and shifting, his form growing larger and larger.

Leathery wings sprouting from his back, curling around you to hide you from the world, his form drawfs you in size. Hands turning more into scaly claws, ripping your pilllow and sheets beneath you. Your eyes widen as the monstrous sight before you as the horns twist on top his head.

But your attention mostly drawn to the pressure in your stomach, feeling his cock growing bigger inside you, matching the new size of him.

You squirm, but with how he has you pinned you can't move.

"Adrain, wait, h-hold on...hnnn! Fuck, t-too big, I can't take it, i-it's too much!"

He grumbles lowly, harshly slamming his cock further into you, his glowing eyes flickering between the new bulge in your stomach and watching how your pussy struggles to accept his new size.

His roar is deafening as you cum, your walls clenching around him desperate to milk him. Your eyes cross, tears streaming down your face. He's fucking your womb, he's so deep!

His long tongue falls frm his open maw, drool dripping onto your chest as he licks it and the sweat off your skin, purring deeply at the taste of you.

His heavy balls smack against your ass, the sheer weight fuck them telling your fucked out mind just how backed up he is, desperate to fill you to the brim.

Cum as many times as you want, he won't be stopping until you take every last drop of his spent.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for derpsheep behind the cut; “a fake cryptid and a real romantic”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

. . . nest, the Batman says, which is hopefully a good sign, at least? Or at least not a bad one? 

Tim is admittedly not particularly optimistic about that possibility, but still, it is a possibility. Like. Theoretically. 

An unproven theory is still a theory, alright? There’s evidence there. Stuff to work with. Things to work from. 

“Yeah,” he says. “We’re, you know–nesting. Which is private. Like, an us thing. Not a Bat thing.” 

The Batman looks unconvinced. Tim despairs a little, then thinks–well, maybe . . . 

“It’s a Robin thing, I mean,” he tries. 

. . . hn, the Batman says, settling back into a dark, shadowed crouch as his eyes narrow consideringly. Tim feels a little bit more optimistic about his chances of not getting Bat-chaperoned on this date. Like–barely, but still noticeably. Like actually and genuinely and more “actually proven theory”-ly. 

“You can literally ask Nightwing, Nightwing knows what I’m talking about,” Tim shamelessly lies. Dick figured out how to date around the Batman’s existence when he was still the one wearing Robin, so it’s not even that much of a lie, calling this a “Robin” thing. Jason–didn’t, obviously, but . . . 

Look, Tim just wants to go on another stupid date with the weirdest monsterfucker teen idol who can make literal diamonds with his literal brain that he knows. Or that, like . . . exists, probably. 

Pretty much definitely, yeah. 

But like–that’s all Tim wants, okay?! He just wants to go on this stupid date and figure out how to convince Superboy that Robins don’t actually nest before the other actually does try to make him one, since clearly he will not be succeeding at making one himself. And, like, making Superboy think he needs to do that is just . . . not ideal, considering. He really does not want Superboy to think he needs to do all that work to get his attention. Superboy has his attention. His attention is had. He does not need more telekinetic diamonds about his attention. 

Especially considering that Tim is not a hundred percent sure that a nest Superboy decided to make wouldn’t involve more telekinetic diamonds. 

Or, uh. Just be one, given Superboy’s clear tendency to overcompensate and also really commit to said overcompensation. 

. . . Tim definitely needs to make sure Superboy doesn’t think he needs to do that, yeah. 

kitten, the Batman observes matter-of-factly, and Tim barely holds back from burying his face in Robin’s wings. Dammit. Just–ugh, this is about to be so embarrassing. 

Superboy drops down out of the cloudy–well, smoggy–night sky a second later, stopping about ten or twelve feet in the air above them. He’s wearing different sunglasses and a different jacket tonight; the glasses are mirrored and the jacket’s got studs and spikes and pins on it and does really, uh . . . does interesting things to Superboy’s shoulders. And waist. And . . . 

The studs and spikes and pins are all very shiny, Tim realizes belatedly as he registers the effect of the city lights reflecting off them; the sunglasses’s frames and mirrored lenses are shiny too. 

And Superboy thinks Robin likes shiny things. 

So like–Superboy definitely deliberately dressed up for this date. 

Tim gently simmers into a doomed puddle of hormones inside Robin’s feathers, and Superboy grins down at him all bright and pretty and shiny, and then actually Tim just evaporates right out of Robin entirely, actually. Like just completely and totally. Like–just completely, yeah. Just . . . very much totally and completely. 

Oh no, Tim thinks in absolute dread as his face goes hot behind Robin’s mask and his stomach not only fills up with butterflies, it turns into an entire butterfly sanctuary. Oh no, he is not going to be normal about literally anything that happens tonight, is he.

[frozenjokes]

cubfan135 not only can't read social cues but chooses to ignore them. scar just wants to hang out with his tree :(

Creaking didn’t usually gather near the edge of the forest, not this far, especially not bordering past the tree line where moonlight untainted by the cloudy biome haze might reach them. Might make them sick, like Scar.

Though, maybe it was the noise that drew them so far; Scar was not particularly old, only a few decades under its belt, but it had never heard a racket like this, not from roosters or bellowing bulls or any kind of other creature. The screeches were earsplitting, doubled, tripled, quadrupled over each other like each monster was fighting to make the worst possible noise, battling by the hundreds. Goodness, it had been ages since Scar had heard even one phantom.

It took Scar awhile to break the picket line of curious creaking; wary of it as they were, not keen to let Scar through even though it was the only one that lived out here- you leave for five minutes and suddenly everyone just decides your house is their new favorite stomping ground-

Scar had been wrong. There were thousands, maybe tens of thousands, clouding the sky so thickly Scar could not see the stars or the poor creature they’d enveloped so completely. 

warden..?..new.. ..warden.. survive..?

Scar heard their thoughts through the soil, though it’d never heard that name before. The direction of their thinking gave Scar a pretty solid sense that was the creature being torn to bloody shreds in the tall grass. Why had it never seen one before? Rare migration? Picky eater? Perhaps the ‘warden’ lived underground. Phantoms were sky monsters. Did they live in caves, too? Scar had no idea.

The picket line shivered as a bright blue shockwave of energy split the cloud of death, hundreds of phantoms releasing a final scream before falling out of the sky, flopping to the ground and leaving bloody marks before wisping to smoke, but Scar didn’t even get the chance to stare before another blast of energy eviscerated more assailants, then another, then another until the phantom cloud reformed, falling on the doomed creature once more. Though, maybe doomed was pessimistic; despite the air still being thick with phantoms, the thinned numbers helped Scar to see dozens being tossed wayward at a time, not even smoke before the next dozen were thrown, dead on impact. Whatever was in the middle of that cloud was big, and it was strong. The next time the shockwave shook the air, Scar heard the shriek behind it, and shivered along with its forest.

The warden did not seem to be slowing down. Scar was struck with a curiosity so fierce, it was certain the other creaking could read the thought from miles away. 

Scar never would have imagined anything could survive this kind of attack, but since it’d arrived, the onslaught had considerably thinned. It had to wonder how many phantoms had swarmed the sky before it had gotten the chance to watch. Scar willed the warden to live, at least long enough so it could see what something so powerful looked like.

As the night wore on, Scar certainly saw.

It was a massive, shambling thing, clumsy in its movement, but it did not have to be precise to kill dozens with every blow of its massive, three fingered claws. Its fur looked like moss, and if it wasn’t so drenched in its own blood, Scar could see himself mistaking it for a large, mossy rock laying down. It had two mouthes, one of which it used to rip through phantom after phantom, the other of which created those beams of energy, slaughtering endless monsters with only its screams. Scar was transfixed.

When the last phantom fell, the warden collapsed.

Scar was at its side.

The warden’s whole body was a mess of gore, but its back was particularly unsightly, razor teeth having ripped through layers of moss and thick skin to reveal dark muscle and bits of bone, the warden’s discomfort evident through its labored breaths. With injuries like these and many more, it was surely dying, though it had enough energy to whip upright and slam one of its beefy arms into Scar’s form, his body falling neatly into seven clean pieces. Darn it.

‘Well hello there,’ Scar tried, reaching out to the other’s mind in a hope it would hear. Scar was never quite sure if other animals could hear it, and monsters definitely couldn’t, but no one had ever responded before now.

The warden startled, a trailing clicking noise floating from its throat. It did not look for Scar; did it even have eyes? Now that Scar thought about it, it didn't feel so defensive around this creature, and while it had never looked at Scar directly, Scar was pretty sure there still would have been an effect. Huh. Charming. It was Scar’s turn to startle (all seven pieces) when the warden responded.

‘Creaking are not supposed to be so frail. I thought you could not be destroyed.’

Yeesh. Quite the charmer, wasn’t this one. 

‘I’ve never seen a warden before.’

‘Just a cub.’

‘You’re not a warden? That’s what they called you.’

‘Not yet.’

‘You’re chatty.’

‘I’m unwell.’

Hm. By the looks of it, that was probably true, but Scar wasn’t in much better shape, and you didn’t see it complaining. Well. It’s not like Scar was going anywhere until morning…

‘At what time do you usually die? Where do you come from?’

‘I’ve never died before.’

‘You must have.’

Cub snorted. ‘No.’

Scar considered its new companion, utterly perplexed. Was that possible? Maybe that was why all the phantoms were out and about; Scar knew very little about them, but it was pretty sure they got irritated when the living didn’t die often enough. Strange.

‘Maybe you should consider dying. It’s not pleasant near the end.’ Scar did not like to die, it did not like the way its limbs weakened, then crumbled. Falling apart like this was not so bad; it was the numb loss of control Scar hated. Cub looked like it was crumbling. It would not be long before it was Scar’s turn, the first shades of purple-red appearing over the horizon. 

‘I’d rather not.’

‘Would it kill you to say more?’

‘I’m unwell.’ Cub growled, and it got the message, though Scar still made sure to send its greatest discontentment over their mental connection. Cub deserved it; it was being very rude. Cub didn’t ever stop growling, so Scar didn’t stop being psychically unhappy in its direction until Cub tired out. Readjusted. Winced. Quieted. It was quiet for a long time.

‘I won’t come back. When I die.’

Scar shivered, irritated. ‘Everything comes back.’

‘Creaking do. Nothing else I know of does.’

‘Not true. I see animals come back all the time. Gone one day, there the next.’

Cub huffed. ‘You see them? How do you know you’re not looking at two different creatures? Everything that bleeds dies for good.’

‘That can’t be true.’ Scar was disturbed by the notion, but Cub was persistent.

‘I’ve seen real death. It is true.’

Ominous. Probably lies, or at least some kind of misunderstanding. How could anyone believe something so bleak? And- Wait a minute! If other creatures weren’t dying regularly, why weren’t phantoms a regular occurrence? Ah, but Cub had attracted many phantoms, hadn’t it, so it really must not have died before. Maybe for wardens or cubs or whatever it was, death really was permanent. How inconvenient. Scar would not push the subject, lest it reveal just how unfair Cub’s life was compared to the rest of the world.

Hm. The sun was rising. Scar was going to die soon.

‘You should go home. The sun is dangerous. If you don’t die, there will be more phantoms tomorrow.’

Cub jolted, then hissed- Scar did not know why. ‘More? I killed them all.’

Scar did not want to remind Cub of its tragic end in comparison to the rest of the world, speaking noncommittally, ‘There are always more.’

Cub was quiet, so quiet and so still that Scar wondered if it had decided to die after all. ‘I must stay. Three cycles. Is there any immediate danger to the day?’

‘The sun.’

‘This trial has been conducted as long as we’ve existed. I doubt the sun will kill me. I know some of the surface; mostly the harmless. Are there more swarms in the day?’

Scar could not answer. Its boughs were beginning to numb, soul withering. Cub must have received its distress, though Scar had not meant to communicate it.

‘I suppose you wouldn’t know.’

…

Scar was alive, and as it did every dusk, it watched the sun set, wondering what it might be like to see it at full mast. What color was the sky during the day?

Very quickly Scar noticed irritation through the soil; a commonality from time to time, but this wasn’t brief, the feeling intensifying as more and more creaking became annoyed, but never evolving to anger or alarm. Scar felt drawn toward the source, and it wasn’t long before it saw the problem. Cub was wandering through the pale woods, sniffing the newly created creaking, then whacking them gently, ears perking at the hiss of their hearts. 

Cub went from creaking to creaking in relatively quick succession, tapping them, moving on, tapping them, moving on, and Scar didn’t even process this was about to happen to it too when Cub approached, promptly sending Scar tumbling to pieces. The disdain from the other creaking turned on Scar instantly, but Cub didn’t even care, the only creature in the forest that seemed delighted by this development. Well, at least someone was feeling better.

The screech of phantoms killed that mood, and Cub scampered off, the rest of the creaking wandering away in turn, either to watch the massacre that was about to unfold or get away from Scar. Probably both. Scar had no such power to go anywhere, but with great determination, it was able to turn its head, flipping toward the source of the mounting noise. Why had Cub gone and done this? Scar understood the first time, it would be jumpy too, but this was ridiculous! Its tree would be unprotected the whole night!

Scar did not think Cub had gone far, but from here Scar could not see the sky, only the soft reflection of blue light from those rhythmic screeching attacks, flickering off the dark like lightning. Just like the night before, the battle raged for hours. Exactly how long, Scar did not know; how did the other creaking stand it under the thickest cover of trees? Did they fear the moon like they feared Scar? Did they not care to know how much time they had before their deaths?

Scar thought bitterly of how the others must be especially enjoying the show without it being there. Eventually the noise died.

It had not expected Cub to return. The other creaking Cub had been so interested in certainly hadn’t come back- perhaps warded away by Scar’s sour mood. Surely Cub felt it too, but it must not have cared, approaching Scar without restraint, bending over it gingerly, sniffing, batting Scar’s pieces around until Scar really got angry, then sitting back, a large fuzzy lump. 

‘You’re unhappy with me. Does it hurt?’

‘I am unhappy.’

‘Does it hurt?’

‘I don’t know your meaning.’

‘Do you feel pain?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Guess not.’ Cub made a soft grumbling noise, though Scar didn’t catch the meaning. It seemed content. It didn’t look injured; it must be pleased with itself. Scar hoped to ruin its mood with its own ire.

‘Why do you fall apart? You are supposed to be sturdy.’

‘I am not.’

‘Why?’

‘My heart is sick. It is just the way I am.’ Despite Scar’s best attempt at beaming hate into Cub’s brain, it did not seem to care.

‘Where’s your tree? I didn’t hear it.’ 

Cub must have figured that was a poor question when Scar didn’t answer, scratching its ear, awkward. Scar did not feel bad, nor did it speak.

‘Your insight was helpful. I did not die. I will try not to shatter you tomorrow.’ Cub turned around, trotting away, and Scar was glad for it. 

…

Scar did not seek the noise on the third night; the final, if it had remembered correctly. It was not keen on spending its night on the ground. Scar didn’t do much outside of standing around, but at least it didn’t feel so helpless. So stupid.

If only minding its own business guaranteed Cub would mind it in turn.

The moon was more than halfway through the sky when Scar felt the rumble of its heavy footsteps across the forest floor, the other creaking distantly annoyed, but not nearly as irritated as the last night; Cub must have stopped smacking them around. Good. This was their forest, not its. 

But Scar grew anxious as it neared; it did not know how Cub was finding it or if this was just chance, but Scar wanted to be left alone- since when had Cub gotten so efficient at killing phantoms anyway? 

And then Cub broke the treeline. Scar shifted in its discomfort, immediately attracting the other’s attention to its own dismay.

‘Leave me alone!’ Scar shivered until his boughs rattled, but this did nothing to intimidate the other, trotting closer until it was close enough to sniff. Scar reared back, only for its arm to crack uselessly off Cub’s head, then pop right out of the socket. Both of them stared at it for a moment.

Cub flopped back on its haunches, delayed, as if trying to give Scar the gratification by pretending the blow had hurt. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

Scar rattled at it, frustrated, not saying a word.

‘Why don’t you like me anymore?’

Was it not obvious? Cub cocked its head, clicking softly. Its ears perked, seeming to find Scar’s discard arm.

‘I am not healed, but the sculk staved the bleeding over the day. Would’ve died if it was torn back open. I was able to find shelter in your forest. Kill the swarm through rock. Might’ve survived without your warning. But maybe not.’

Spitefully, Scar kept its silence.

Cub ducked its head. ‘They don’t like you. I did not mean to humiliate you. I’ll try to fix it.’ Scar did not get a chance before Cub raised its fist, bearing down on Scar’s discarded arm. The arm did not snap; Scar rarely fell apart into more than a few pieces, but its heart did hiss. 

Cub’s head snapped in the exact direction, bulldozing forward with deadly precision, leaving Scar to scramble after it in stark alarm, but it did not make it before Cub plowed into the base of Scar’s tree. The whole thing lurched and cracked, dead leaves floating off in every direction, and the second blow separated the base from the grass, dirt flying skyward. Scar reached Cub seconds later, smacking it as hard as it could manage, but its second arm flew off in the other direction, and Cub didn’t even turn around. On the third blow, Scar’s tree was nearly uprooted. Good enough for Cub apparently, who wrapped its bulky arms around the midsection, tugging at the roots.

‘My- My tree! Where are you- MY TREE!!’

‘Don’t worry about it.’

Cub tugged again, hard, and Scar was forced to watch as the roots slid from their hold deep in the ground. And then Cub was walking away, just- just walking away with Scar’s tree-! But before Scar could give chase, it was dust.

��

The dark was the only thing familiar when Scar woke, familiar enough that Scar did not recognize anything was wrong until the black was too black and everything was not as it was supposed to be.

Scar felt it’s tree. Stepped away on ground that pulsed with soft light below its feet.

The gray, textured bark stood starkly in a darkness that threatened to swallow it- was swallowing it, the thick mossy ground growing up through dips in the bark. Scar’s tree looked massive with no other oaks to dwarf it, and only now did Scar realize it was glowing, thick lichen unlike the foliage Scar knew hanging from the branches.

Where. What was happening here.

Scar didn’t even feel the blow at its back before it was in pieces, its heart shrieking in defiance, but that didn’t stop Scar from collapsing to the floor in a neat pile.

‘Aw man.. I really thought that would work.’

Scar felt Cub’s presence. Too shocked to rattle or even shiver, Scar was silent when Cub plopped down beside it.

‘Sculk fixes everything. I can’t believe it.’ Cub glowed in the dark, and Scar saw its ears droop. ‘Well. I’m not done trying.’

Cub plucked Scar’s head off the pile, clicking at it with what must have been great scrutiny, then slapping something wet over the top of its head and sticking it back on its shoulders upside down. Scar had no choice but to let this happen, but even if it could’ve done something, it was so utterly bewildered that for the first time in its life, it was at a genuine loss for words. 

When Cub laid Scar down with great care, Scar was so baffled that it hardly noticed when Cub stuck its torso to its shoulders, then its arms, then its legs to its torso, absolutely coating the pieces in muck from the ground. Did- Did Cub think it could just glue Scar back together?

Maybe the uprooting and violent displacement of Scar’s heart had something to do with this extended shock, but when Cub stood it up, proudly displaying Scar against its tree, Scar could only stare straight ahead, utterly lost.

‘There. Can you move?’

Limply, Scar fell flat on its face and shattered. For a moment there was only silence.

‘Oh no, did I kill you. Creaking? Creaking? Are you alive?’ Cub picked up one of Scar’s arms, shaking it vigorously until Scar found the wherewithal to lurch his victimized limb forward, tapping Cub on the forehead. The fur felt an awful lot like the stuff Cub had smeared all over Scar’s body.

‘Oh.’ Cub set Scar’s arm back with its body. ‘I may have to ask a second opinion. There are wardens who know creaking a lot better than me.’

The world felt slow around Scar. Cub cocked its head.

‘What’s wrong with you?’

…

‘I didn’t make it worse..?’ Cub’s ears pinned. A low rumble left its throat, before it lumbered away, somewhat clumsily into the dark. Scar was left for what must have been hours, and did not see Cub again before becoming ash.

…

Scar was alone when it woke, its tree it’s only company. Scar backed up against the bark, battered by rock on the journey underground; Scar had always been driven to protect it, but here, somewhere frightening and new, it was all Scar had, and it had already been proven how easily it could be taken away.

There was no soil down here, so disconnected from the surface that Scar could not even feel the presence of creaking that must live above, replaced by a new language of the underground, one Scar was not used to and did not entirely understand.

The underground liked quiet. Scar was too aware of the way its own body cracked and creaked at every movement. It felt frail, weak. Then again.. was that too much different from before? 

Before, Scar hadn’t been alone. It shivered, dismal.

Then, a clicking in the distance, a soft crescendo, and instinctually Scar shrunk away, wincing at the grind of its own body. Footsteps, louder, then faster when Scar’s body betrayed the quiet once again.

‘Are you feeling better?’

It felt foreign to speak through new ground. Scar did its best to force its contempt through. ‘Leave me.’

While Cub’s emotions had felt blunted on the surface, Scar felt them more clearly here over plant life it was used to communicating through. Relief, first. Then something more somber. Scar didn’t care.

‘I tended to the sculk while you were gone; there’s more now. I hope you’ll feel stronger. The roots are taking well.’

Scar rattled its boughs despite still being unable to see its assailant, defiant, though not without a touch of fear. Cub grew discouraged.

‘I don’t understand. I gave you your space. I’m helping you. No one else has heard of anything like this happening to a creaking before; we don’t surface much. They were all a little shocked when I came back with a tree, but..’ Scar sensed an attempt at humor, which promptly died. 

‘I was fine.’ Scar could not growl, but it may as well have.

‘Your tree was sick. Dying.’

Scar shivered in its distaste. So preoccupied with death, cubs must be. The thought was born from irritation, but against Scar’s own will, its own anger softened. It must be frightening for them. Death. Cub was quiet, waiting for an answer.

‘I come back,’ Scar reminded it, more gently.

‘Do trees?’

Scar inclined its head, thoughtful. ‘No, not like us.’

‘So if your tree dies, then you will be gone.’ There was a decisiveness there, like Cub’s point had been unequivocally proven, but Scar did not understand its triumph.

‘Yes. That is true.’

Confusion. ‘Yes,’ Cub confirmed, as if waiting for Scar to get it.

‘I am no longer needed when it’s gone. If it chooses to die, then I’ve done what it created me for.’ 

Scar felt the churning of Cub’s processing through the bioluminescent moss below its feet. Scar didn’t know what was so difficult to understand.

‘You don’t care if you live or die?’

What an odd question. ‘I know what I’m here for. I care whether or not I can protect my tree. I can not when you topple me. So stop doing that.’

Scar got the sense Cub thought it was crazy, followed by a twinge of guilt. ‘I thought you were sentient..’

‘Am I not?’

‘I don’t know. You cared about my life. I just wanted to care about yours.’ A misunderstanding, then. Scar couldn’t say it wasn’t still peeved, but this.. made more sense. The stakes were very high for Cub.

‘We’re all protecting something. You were up there for a reason. I was curious. It’s lonely, sometimes..’ Scar trailed off, then heard shuffling, only for Cub to appear out from the dark. It sat in the dim light, still a distance away, but present.

‘It’s cruel that you can feel lonely, if all you’re here for is your tree. Creaking didn’t come off to me as social things.’

‘We aren’t.’ Scar hesitated. ‘Not really. But we are connected. We share a sense of danger. We will defend each other.’ Scar shifted, its joints groaning, ‘It’s just some of us are better at it than others. When you’re no good, it’s.. no use spending resources to protect you. Might get sick. I can’t return the favor, in any case. But I can do my best for my own.’

‘I’ll do it, then. Protect you. Your tree.’ Cub was so decisive, so suddenly, and Scar didn’t know what to do.

‘You are more of a threat to me.’

‘No.’ Cub huffed, like this was offensive.

‘No?’

‘No. I can watch it. When you’re dead.’

Scar shivered, irked. ‘I don’t trust you.’

‘Stop,’ Cub bit back.

‘No.’

‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

Scar threw up its arms. ‘Okay!’

‘I’ll protect your tree.’

‘You uprooted my tree. It doesn’t like you.’

‘Yes it does.’

‘No it doesn’t.’

‘Yes it does.’

Scar would have gone on arguing until the sun rose, but cringed back when Cub rose to its full height, waddling closer. Scar smacked it once, limb cracking against Cub’s shoulder, then again until the arm popped off, and got three hits in with the left arm when that one broke as well, helpless as Cub sidled up to its tree, wrapping its own arms around the base.

‘It likes me. See? I’m going to save its life.’

Scar seethed, rattling through the irritation, but a small part of it was curious; did Cub  have that power?

‘Can you really change its mind?’

‘About what?’

‘Dying.’

‘Oh.’ Cub cocked its head, then relaxed, a noncommittal gesture. ‘Dunno. I kinda don’t have any idea what I’m doing.’

Scar struck Cub’s face so hard with its own that its head popped right off its shoulders, back jerking so suddenly in the motion that its torso failed it in turn, legs with nothing to hold them falling limply onto the pile. Cub stared, or at least gave the impression it was staring.

‘Don’t worry about it. I got this.’

[kcokaine]

do you think toji selling megumi was his last act of genuine care for his son or should he be viewed as a terrible father? would like to hear ur genuine thoughts

I honestly think the thing with toji is that his decision wasn’t made based on carelessness or love. It was made based on his own pain. He loved his wife so much. That he named their offspring “A blessing”. (And i know toji was there for the birth, i know he knew Megumi’s gender and named him blessing anyways because thats how he felt about them getting a child at heart.) After she passed Toji was so incredibely heartbroken he was unable to put love in a child, therefore unable to raise it. So he decided for the selfish and best option. Selling him. Making profit so he can wallow in his sorrow better with money and also hoping for better more succesful life for his son. I think he gaslit himself about the fact he would live better but in his emotional state he had no choice. Toji was nothing short of desperate and broken man. I think Toji is capable to love so much despite never being shown any. His wife quite literally saved him and that little bit of affection gave Toji chance at redemption, that only sunshine he ever had in his cloudy life. Losing it simply impacted him beyond repair. He is tragic and doomed man. But i know he loved his son because he was partly from mamaguro, and he thought about him and her in the last moments of his life twice.

[starleska]

oh? you thought i wouldn't do it? i would do anything in the name of fictional character simpage 😉 here is a colour gradient of 50 of my most beloved fictional blorbos!!! they are in no particular order, with the criteria being that they have had to cause a hyperfixation bad enough that i've forgotten to eat, sleep, or drink 😂 all the characters are under the cut!!! i'm so sorry 😭

Mr. Sparkles (Big Hero 6: The Series)

Jack Frost (The Santa Clause 3: The Escape Clause)

Baldi (Baldi's Basics in Education and Learning)

Augustus St. Cloud (The Venture Bros)

The Toymaker (Doctor Who)

‘Big’ Jack Horner (Puss in Boots: The Last Wish)

Mad Mod (Teen Titans)

Maxime Le Mal (Despicable Me 4)

Rolando (Helluva Boss)

Jervis Tetch | The Mad Hatter (Batman: The Animated Series)

Swan (The Phantom of the Paradise)

Ramón Salazar (Resident Evil 4)

Monika (Doki Doki Literature Club)

Professor Zündapp (Cars 2)

Dave the Octopus | Dr Octavius Brine (The Penguins of Madagascar)

Warren the Eagle (Don't Hug Me I'm Scared)

Wally Darling (Welcome Home)

Dr Rowan North (Ghostbusters 2016)

Spamton (Deltarune Chapter 2)

Jeremiah Valeska (Gotham)

The Sixth Doctor (Doctor Who)

Sans (Undertale)

Larry Laffer (Leisure Suit Larry)

Syndrome (The Incredibles)

Chester V (Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs 2)

HABIT (EverymanHYBRID)

Gargamel (The Smurfs)

Fingers (Dead End: Paranormal Park)

Siegfried von Schroeder (Yu-Gi-Oh!)

Adam (Hazbin Hotel)

Myc Cellium (Inside Job)

The Spot (Marvel)

M.O.D.O.K. (Marvel)

Dwight Schrute (The Office)

Kinito (KinitoPET)

Colin Robinson (What We Do In The Shadows)

Mr. Puzzles (SMG4)

King Candy (Wreck-It Ralph)

Zapp Brannigan (Futurama)

Comfortable Doug (Centaurworld)

The Love Glove (Doom Patrol)

Chef Saltbaker (Cuphead)

Ben Chang (Community)

Pennywise (IT)

Freddy Krueger (A Nightmare on Elm Street)

Cagney Carnation (Cuphead)

Klaus Kickenklober (Sing 2)

Austin Powers (Austin Powers)

Calvin Fischoeder (Bob's Burgers)

Rouxls Kaard (Deltarune)

[scorpioriesling]

Heyy, I just saw your Prompt Request Masterlist. As I scrolled down there I haven't seen one with Cassian yet.

I wondered if you'd like to write a Cassian X reader with 35 + 37 + 41 ? Pretty please?💕💕

Thank you so much for all the lovely content, can't wait to read more from you✨

Sing To Me

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing: Cassian x Siren!Reader

Warning(s): mentions of blood / war

Summary: Your escape turns out to be more than you ever could've imagined. Leaving behind your old habitat didn't necissarily mean leaving old habits; what will happen when you put them to the test in order to save a gorgeous bat-in-need?

SR's Note: I'm so excited for this ask -- and you have to follow my tangent here, alright. I know this concept is a little funky maybe, but I hope you enjoy it and how it ends! I had a blast writing it for you. This uses prompts #35, #37, and #41 from my masterlist! xoxo Tags: @cynthiesjmxazrielslover

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Love was never easy. You knew that, in your long life of 478 years. You'd come to accept that over time, you may never fully experience life the way you'd dreamed you would -- you were destined, doomed to the worst fate in Prythian. A fate not many would ever understand.

Until you'd met him.

Another bitterly cold day under the water in the bog, the near pitch-blackness of it impossible to see through to the naked fae eye.

Good thing you weren't fae.

The other sirens swam about, but the heat of their bodies didn't provide any comfort as chatter of the looming war chilled your blood to the core. The others spoke as though this was a mere form of entertainment -- but not you. You found it hard to relate to others of your kind, ever longing to look like the beautiful mermaids and water wraiths that dwelled in the glittering waters of the courts. But, you were bound to this bottomless, dirty, dark pit for eternity.

When the war had finally begun, you knew it was a chance to escape. This, you decided, would be your way out.

You'd followed the stream, tail whipping violently through the murky waters for what felt like days on end. You didn't stop, even if it meant taking a slower pace at times. You left your belongings, only sparing the necessary healing items you may need.

If you were swimming into battle, you'd surely find those in handy.

After ages upon ages, the water began to thin, the dark, muddiness of it fading away as chrystalline waters beckoned for promise ahead. Even halfway between the dank water and the clear blue of the ocean, you'd found it hard to adjust your eyes to the blinding light from above. You were more adapted to the cloudy skies of the bog whenever you felt corageous enough to break the surface of your home lagoon, but this... this was so clear and vast that it took effort to adjust to the change.

When all of the filth had subsided, you noticed a few dark tendrils floating alongside you. They shone beautifully in the light, the sun reflecting upon them, framing each hilight and contour. Your hair. It was beautiful, the muck washing away with each movement of your head.

Gods, it'd been ages since you'd seen a mirror. The broken glass you'd kept didn't work too well in those murky waters.

Looking down, you decided you were quite alluring. The black pearls that stretched over your shoulders, covering most of your breasts only accentuated your moon-white skin. The feathery, ink-black tail that powerfully bobbed behind you... you understood now, why sirens were the ones that could call to any male and get an answer, not mermaids.

The water was glinting with sunlight, but as you kept swimming, you noticed odd shapes floating within. First, a trunk floated by. Then, a few red fruits bobbed along as you continued on your way, gripping your black fishnet bag tightly.

You finally understood the reasoning for the odd objects as you continued your trek.

Pieces of splintered wood cascaded around you, one piece pricking your finger when you reached out to grasp it. Ouch. But more than that, the water was rather... disturbed, ahead. Splashing from the surface indicated as much, and with every stride closer, you could hear roaring, voices, screams-

Splash!

All of a sudden, an anchor was being lowered just in front of you. The heavy iron had your eyes wide as it sank to the ocean floor, and peering up at the surface, you saw more than just the sunlight casting glow after glow throughout the water.

More items began breaking the surface, sinking heavily all around you. First, a bed. Then, random broken bits of china that looked as sharp as the wood. No touching.

A body.

Two.

Blood everywhere.

Your pupils dilated, the scent of blood filling your nose as male after male drifted along, blood pouring from them in delicious crimson waves. The sight was mouth-watering, the lurch in your stomach almost too much as you realize you hadn't feasted in days-

No. That wasn't why you'd come. You came to help, to change your ways -- eating those you'd hoped would accept you wouldn't do you any good. Though they were already dead...

You violently shook your head, longing to clear your mind from the insatiable, hungry, ravenous plaguing thoughts. Loud echoing sounded from above, almost lous enough to hurt your ears. You winced, drawing closer and closer to the surface.

Sploosh!

You rear back, your hands flailing wildly to avoid the sinking ship before you. The flags pulled in water with their wake, threatening to tangle you up and drown you had you not swam away. The wood of the ship's architecture cracked, sinking under it's own weight slowly. You would make out the gold lettering on the side as it fell.

N.

ES.

T.

A.

Hmm.

You swam above it, watching as the Nesta fell slowly, the large explosions above the water pinching your eardrums. You closed your eyes hard, bracing for the shock, waiting to break the surface-

Your eyes flew wide as you gasped for air, your lungs filling with smoke. The scent, the air, all of it; you choked, couching and wheezing as you treaded to keep upright. When you finally cleared your lungs, you looked around, really looked. So many ships, so many warriors on them, so many-

Bang!

Another explosion sent a ship up in flames, and you crossed your arms before your face to sheild from the blinding light. Screams all around, so much pain...

"Cassian!"

You heard the screaming before you saw him. A bird, a bat -- he fell from the sky, large wings crumpling and broken as he headed for the water. You knew this was it. You had to go, you had to go now.

You couldn't swim fast enough and watched as his body cascaded into the water before you. Too far. He was too far. You swam faster, coming to the surface to look for him. Surely, he'd fallen near here? You couldn't miss an enormous pair of wings, but... no matter where you looked, you only saw broken bodies and shattered wood. No him, anywhere.

You dorve underneath the surface once more to continue swimming, but that's when you spotted it -- those mangled, shredded wings drifting delicately in the water. You frantically swam to him, reaching to grab him, help him, but he fell out of reach.

He was sinking.

There was no way you'd get him back to his ship, you couldn't even leave the water; and he was too heavy.

You wrapped your arms beneath his shoulders, wrapping tight before kicking your tail with all your might in an attempt to bring you both back to the surface. It worked, a little. You slowly made your way up, his wings as fragile as a jellyfish tentacles. You made sure not to touch them.

When you finally broke the surface once more, you gasped, hauling him over a flat piece of wood and turning his face to yours. Gods, he was glorious. Your hand searched for his heart, a pulse to reassure you he wasn't dead -- you found nothing.

Panic set in, and you racked your brain for what to do in a situation like this one. You weren't used to healing or helping the fae -- usually, you would simply lure them in and have them for dinner.

Healing. That's what you needed to do.

A tidal wave almost pushed him off the wood, but you clung to him in an attempt to keep him grounded upon it. Thinking quickly, you shoved the mass, steady enough to keep him afloat but quickly to avoid being seen, avoid any more destruction. Land, you'd thought. He needed a stable place to rest, for you to work -- the shoreline.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

"Cauldron damned, you better be worth saving."

You grumbled as you hauled him ashore, as far out of the water that you could reach without completely exiting it. It took massive, exhausting effort to get him here, but the deserted coast would be perfect for your attempt to revive him.

You slung your bag off your shoulder, the action slashing wet sand onto his cheek. You grimaced, reaching out to brush the wet sediment off. Your fingers lingered only for a moment as you stared, his handsomely carved features stunning you.

Heal him.

Right.

As you began digging in your bag, a strangled cough sounded beside you. Your eyes fixated on him as his chest heaved, a more sound cough echoing in his throat. He kept going, coughing, gasping, reaching for air-

Then he slowly opened his eyes. The milky chocolate brown orbs roamed wildly, first taking in the sky, then double-taking when he saw you.

"H....Holy SHIT!" He shouted, frantically pushing up onto his elbows and staggering backward. You flinched, a little afraid something like this would happen. His chest heaved wildly, his wings attempting to flare but only resulting in a pained groan and a hand on his ribs.

"It... it isn't good to move around in your condition," You offer, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. His eyes tracked the movement, growing wider and wider at the touch.

"What are you... who are you?" He asks, his hand still bracing his side.

"I'm... here to help you," you say, and his face contorts in pain.

"What?"

"Lie back down." You say, pushing lightly on his shoulder. To your surprise, he doesn't argue, but simply lies on his back, groaning with the movement. You move close again, leaning over him to get a good look.

"I... I think I can help, with your wings," you say. His nostrils flare as pain crashes through him again and again.

"Why." He asks lowly. Your brows knit.

"Why... why what?" You ask, reaching for the seaweed salve you'd brought. You extemd a hand to apply it, and he jerks backward, his steely glare holding yours.

"Why are you helping me." He grits out. "Why are you?"

"Y/N, is my name." You say, and he looks you up and down, at the tail curling into the water behind you.

"And you're... a, what? Healer? Mermaid?" He quizzes.

You sigh heavily. "Something like that."

He sits straighter, his gaze softening only slightly. "How do I know you're not working for Hybern?"

You knit your brows again. "High Who?"

He reads your expression, the corner of his lips tilting upwards. "Nevermind," he says, scootching closer. "You said, you have something to make it," he winces in pain again. "Better?"

You nod, showing him your balm. "Yes I do," you say. He sighs, contemplating his choice. Finally, shaking his head, he extends his wing to you slightly.

You press your fingers to his wing, near the tip of it and run them along the spine gently. Turns out, his wings are not feathery -- they're quite leathery. Strong.

He groans in pain again, and you gulp as you scoot closer, your hip touching his in the sand.

"What is your name?" You ask politely. He glances to you, and you suck in a breath. Gorgeous.

"Cassian," he answers, and you trail your fingers lower, brushing the weeds closer to the base of his wings. He continues to flinch in pain, and you try your best to distract him.

"From?"

"The Night Court." You nod solemnly.

"I've heard of it. The Cursebreaker; the High Lady, she dwells there." He nods, chuckling a bit.

"She sure does."

It's quiet for only a moment as you reach for the wing on the other side, not quite finding it with your fingers.

"And you?" He asks. His eyes meet yours, and you realize how close you'd become to his lips. So... decadent, practically begging to be chewed-

"Where do you dwell?" He asks. You shake your head lightly, repositioning to sit on his leg to better reach the other wing.

"I'm from... a few places." You settle on, and he shakes his head slowly.

"So mysterious. A pretty, dark-tailed lady comes to my rescue, and won't even tell me where she's from?" You blush, his kind words to foreign to your ears. He thought you were pretty.

"Well.. uh, why thank you." You blubber. He chuckles, his straight white teeth gleaming in the setting sun. Your pupils begin to dilate.

"What would help you relax?" You ask, adjusting your position but only slipping right onto his lap. His large hands grasp your exposed waist, steadying you but not your racing heart. And... mind.

"Well, my best friend's mother used to sing to me when I was young and in need of comfort," he suggests. "Always calmed me down."

Sing. Gods, this was going horribly.

"I... can't sing." You lied. His hands held firm as you continued to work the balm across his wing, and you couldn't help but feel flustered.

"Oh, neither could Rhys' mom," he huffed a laugh. "I promise I won't judge, even if it really is bad," he shrugs, his deep eyes peering into yours.

You gulped. Maybe, if you sang with no ill-intent, you wouldn't seduce him? He wouldn't fall into your gift-given trap, as all the other males did?

"Well, singing you shall have then, Cassian." You cleared your throat, and he looked up at you with a small smile. You began your song, singing with more love and affection than hunger and desire. You could only hope he would respond well.

You hadn't realized your eyes drifted closed until the end of your tune, and you opened them slowly to look to your new companion.

"That. Was. Beautiful." His arms wrapped around your waist, his hands pulling you closer to him. You squeaked, gripping his shoulder for stability.

"No, I-"

"Y/N," he said, his voice more gravelly and low than before. "You absolutely can sing. You're a good singer." He smiled lazily. Great. Your attempt to give him the benefit of the doubt didn't work.

"Thank you," you responded, scooping the last of the salve from the tin to spread over his wings. When you went to rub it on, he moved it out of reach. Your brows knit, and you looked at him to see a playful smirk on his face.

You reached again, only for him to move back at the last second. You scowled softly, turning your attention to his face once more.

"Cassian." You warned, and he chuckled brightly at you.

"You gotta... be quicker... than me," he drawled, his hands rubbing up and down the exposed skin on your waist. You lunged for his wing, almost getting it before he reared back again.

"Cassian!" You reprimanded. "Do you want me to heal you or not?" You said sternly. He only howled, laughing and smiling happily while looking up at you.

"Ahh, Y/N," he sighed. "You're cute when you're angry."

You rolled your eyes, but the blush in your cheeks told a different story. His fingers trailed up, brushing against the skin of your shoulders as he looked longingly, lustfully at you.

"You know... actually, we would make a really cute couple," he chuckled again, and you shook your head at his nonsense as you attempted to move from his lap. His rather... hardening, lap.

This was not good.

"Cassian, come on, let's get you into the shade so you can sleep this off, okay?" You said kindly. His fingers traced along your jawline, brushing a piece of damp hair behind your ear.

"I will... if you admit you're a good singer." He smiles cheekily.

You groan. "Ughhh, Cassian, please, will you just shut up and-"

"Kiss me already." He whispers, his gaze fully entranced on you. His pulse was prevalent, his neck vein throbbing as he leaned closer. He looked so damn delicious, you could almost take a bite-

You gently caress his face, pressing his lips to yours. Your insides knot, the hungry feeling rising as he moves his lips against yours. You almost break when his tongue slides against your bottom lip, but keep it together enough to pull away. His pupils are almost as blown wide as yours.

"Y/N-" he groans.

"We need to get you to the shade," you insist.

"I wanna kiss you again," he whines. A small smile plays on your lips at his words.

"Soon," you say, kissing his temple.

As soon as you sleep this spell off, anyway.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

[dizzydaisychains]

A plea to the stars and ready or not sound so fun!!!

Have any snippets you'd like to share from those wippies? If not totally fine, know I am SAT whenever those get released :D

hello emmy!! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

i'm kicking my feet at the thoughts of anyone being excited for one of my wips, so this means a lot to me that you sent this! i've been working hard on a plea to the stars, so here is a snippet of part 1 for you and anyone else who is curious as to what this sylus fic will be about since i've kept things quite vague. (i've been researching quite hard, trying to pick apart the meaning of 'desire' and what it means for sylus's character in the fic. my nights have been spent pouring over the works of roland barthes and the poetry of the 19th century romantics.)

i hope everyone enjoys this snippet!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

PART I: FALLEN PETALS

“Veiled Melancholy has her sov’reign shrine,

Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue

Can burst Joy’s grape against his palette fine;

His soul shall taste the sadness of her might, 

And be among her cloudy trophies hung.

– From Ode on Melancholy by John Keats 

i.

Under the crimson sky of the N109 Zone, through an archway built from brambles and thorns, there stands an impressive greenhouse made from the finest glass in all of Deepspace. Inside, wilted leaves and dead foliage litters the floor, as if time within the glass is frozen in an eternal Autumn. 

And in the middle of the withered petals and plants, Sylus stands tall, his lips pressed together in a thin line as determination engraves itself onto his face. 

With shaking hands, he pours a trickle of water from a small watering can. Holding his breath, he watches as the drops absorb into the fresh soil. Nice and steady. No need to rush. After so many failed attempts, Sylus has learned to be patient. Like mortals, the flowers have a mind of their own, a whole set of nerves and reactions that Sylus has studied with the hopes of growing a garden of flowers to keep him company when the two of you are apart.

Maybe it is possible, he thinks to himself as he stares down at the little rose bud in the soil. Maybe this time the flower will trust me.

With all the gentleness of a cloud drifting across the sky, Sylus waves his fingertips over the sole survivor of the blight he cannot cure. The single rose bud trembles as gentle wisps of black and red mist tickle its body, trying to coax the little plant out of hiding. 

Maybe they just don’t bloom this time of year. It’s a sentence that haunts him in his dreams; a lie that serves as a cruel reminder that everything he touches is doomed to die. 

Melancholy hangs in the air as the little flower shivers. Desperate to save it, Sylus increases his Evol strength as he attempts to create a warmth akin to sunlight with his powers, but his energy only overwhelms the flower. It shivers as it slowly curls into itself, fighting to stay alive, until it all becomes too much, and just like its predecessors, it shrivels up and dies. Life fading away before it even had a chance to be born. 

Shutting his eyes, Sylus murmurs a soft farewell to the rose, crouching down to remove the pitiful stem from the soil. Perhaps it’s time to face the truth that nothing can grow in darkness. That maybe, just like his garden, the N109 Zone is incapable of flourishing under his rule. Even the greatest empires fall in the end. Babylon. Atlantis. Rome. It’s only a matter of time before The N109 Zone crumbles. He can feel it in his bones; knows that he’s getting weaker by the day, and the urge to devour every soul within range is only getting stronger. Protocores cannot satiate the greed of a dragon. 

His soul wants to devour its other half.

“Sylus?”

A faint breeze drifts through the greenhouse. The dying leaves suddenly perk up at the sound of a sweet voice that holds the promise of light and rebirth. Getting to his feet, Sylus turns around and finds you smiling at him, a wicker basket in your hand. His breath hitches as he drinks in your appearance; a chiffon sundress that falls to your knees, paired with the delicate gold necklace he had bought you in the last auction he attended. 

“What brings you here, Kitten?” Sylus asks, trying to wipe away any trace of his misery in case it worries you. He hates making you worry. Hates the way your worry leads to you waking up and screaming from nightmares of your past. Why do I dream of plunging a sword into your chest? Sylus, tell me it didn’t happen that way! Sylus always loses count of the hours you spend weeping into his chest after awaking from your bad dreams. All he can do is cradle your body in his strong arms and assure you that dreams are just dreams, that all those things happened a long time ago. But how can he protect you from your Destiny? Around and around the two of you go, stuck in a loop of killing each other. How can he break the curse without losing you? 

“Earth to Sylus?”

He blinks as you hold up the basket from the entrance and smile.

“Were you even listening to me? I was asking if you wanted to try and plant these seeds. And while we’re at it, let’s see if my resonance Evol can help bring some of these flowers back to life.”

As you walk closer towards him, the plants whisper excitedly at your surprise arrival. Sensing the warmth of your Evol, they bend their stems towards you, eager for you to caress their dried up leaves. One touch from you will heal them instantly. Sylus has seen you do it. You were the one who healed him with a single touch, after all. 

“Mephisto was sitting on the roof of my car after work. He kept cawing at me until I followed him into a flower shop,” you explain as Sylus raises an eyebrow.

“Since when did you and Mephisto become such good friends?” He takes the basket from your hands and examines the contents. Among the seeds he can spot painkillers, a roll of bandages and antiseptic cream. 

“Did Mephisto also tell you to get medical supplies in the flower shop?” He gives you a suspicious look as a faint blush tinges your cheeks. 

“Okay…maybe I lied. Mephisto didn’t come and get me. The twins told me you were gardening and I was worried you might open your wounds while digging or something." You give him a sheepish smile as he snorts in amusement.

“They also may have told me that it depresses you that nothing ever blooms in your greenhouse. Is that true?”

“Luke and Kieran will say anything to get you to come over. They say I’m nicer when you’re around.” 

“Oh? And I shouldn’t be inclined to believe them?”

“Take it with a grain of salt, Kitten.” Sylus takes out the packet of seeds, turning them over in his hands. “Peonies?”

“Prosperity, honour, wealth. All the things that are needed to make the leader of Onychinus smile,” you say, matter-of-factly. 

Sylus snorts. “Am I that shallow that only factors of success can make me smile?”

“Well, there’s also another thing that I think can make you smile.” You take a step closer to him, your hands behind your back as you look at him from behind long lashes.

“Does it involve a certain Miss Hunter?” 

“Yes, no, maybe so,” you tease, echoing his own words as you balance on the balls of your feet and place a quick kiss on his jaw. 

Sylus shivers as he drops the basket and reels you in with his Evol, his hands holding the small of your back as he looks down at you with desire burning in his eyes. 

“The plants missed you,” he says. 

“And what about you?” 

“You already know.”

“I already know.”

Sylus’s hand trails down to your heart, his large palm resting over the skin that protects it as he counts the beats. On the surface, it seems normal. A mortal heart; he counts sixty-three beats per minute. But it’s pseudoscience when it comes to you, because Sylus knows. He knows what they did to you. The harsh lights of the Ever Labs. The cold, sterile glass tank he pulled you from. He remembers it all. How fragile you looked, eyes scrunched in pain, begging for someone to just pull the plug. They had ripped the wings off his guardian angel. He can still feel the fury that coursed through his veins; how could he let this happen? He blamed himself for years, only daring to watch you from afar. Solitude became his punishment. But the Universe had other plans. The tug of the red string was too powerful. The other half of his soul was calling to him like an echo in a canyon, he had heard it in the depths of his dreams long before you even remembered his name…

“My heart isn’t going anywhere you know.”

Your voice makes him drift back down to Earth as you poke his cheek. Right. His palm is still pressed against your beating heart.

“I was just wondering if it’s been giving you trouble recently,” Sylus says, not exactly telling a lie. 

“Actually, it’s been pretty stable these days,” you say, a slight frown on your face. “I can’t tell if it’s a good or bad omen.”

“Let’s take it as a good one,” Sylus says, stroking your hair, briefly wondering if he’s trying to soothe himself or you. “Perhaps you can help me with the flowers then, if your Evol is up to the task.” 

Sylus watches as you look around, sadness in your eyes as you take in the wilted foliage around you. But it leaves as quickly as it arrives, and within seconds you’re out of his arms and picking up a nearby trowel, determination in your eyes as you give Sylus a bright smile. 

“What are you waiting for? If we start now, I’d say we can have this place in full bloom in an hour.”

For as long as he can remember, Sylus has always succumbed to the despair that likes to drag him into the darkest depths of his depression. Aeons of reincarnation can do that to a soul. 

But in this moment, in this glimmer of light in a garden that reeks of death, Sylus fights against the waves of his grief and allows you to pull him to shore. 

Just this once, Sylus pleas with Fate as you lead him to one of the flower beds in the corner of the greenhouse.

Please, let me stay with her in this lifetime for a little longer.

[irkendogma]

technically i'm late to posting this because i forgot my blog existed for a while but HUGE shoutout to @khaliarart for sending me one of the physical copies of Cloudy With a Chance of Doom! i've loved the comic since first reading so this is a real treat :]

the print turned out gorgeous and i really do have to say, anno's looming translated excellently to physical pages (my terrible photography skills notwithstanding)

[khaliarart]

My friend @satoniko figured out the one correct way to read Cloudy With A Chance Of DOOM✨

[andandyandwhat]

To get back

Sooo, Extended Notes on To get back, a chapter of Small Talk.

Ufff, where do I even start? This past month has been a whirlwind, and I’ve totally lost touch with everything fandom-related. Now, a weird version of FOMO has been stopping me from catching up on updates for some of my favorite fics and fanarts :(. I’ve been trying to reconnect by writing, but nothing was really clicking—so I came back to this lovely baby.

To get back was born from my love for that kind of art style where you have a giant skeletal creature contrasted with an everyday setting or human scale. I LOVE IT. Here are some references: kleinerHai, Jinho Bae, Boris Groh, and bawwny. That last one I found recently and thought, “Not really KNY, but I’m loving the vibes UwU.”

There’s something about that slow, ancient, decayed but powerful air that just draws me in, and I wanted to blend it with the boys. Kyo fits that “fallen warrior” vibe perfectly (too well, honestly :,) ) and it reminded me of Have you ever summoned a potentially vengeful spirit because ghost summoning was on the Bucket List you made at 14 and now you're stuck with a ghost guy or are you normal? by CoffeInAPan. But Akaza... Akaza had the power to literally be a skeleton—he’s powerful, tragic, and gave me the chance to explore a less tragic side of Kyo.

So, a modern AU where Akaza, for some reason, survived Muzan’s defeat and was found by Kyo nearly a century later. Free from his curse, but trapped in a limbo between life and death, he remained in a forest until one day Kyojuro—descendant of the Flame Hashira—stumbles across him and decides to help.

Akaza can’t regenerate on his own. His muscles rebuild from whatever sticks to his bones. In the forest, moss did the job (slowly), but once Kyo took him in, he tried other materials (cold porcelain, FIMO, paper pulp… stuff like that. Stuff I like XD).

In this version, Ruka is also dead and Shinjuro is still distant with his sons. Sen has a bit of social anxiety, and Kyo’s a high school teacher. He didn’t grow up in a world of demons or with a Demon Slayer duty, so when he sees this wretched, doomed being, he just… chooses to help.

Akaza, on the other hand… He’s way more somber than usual, because we’re seeing him after regaining his memories and spending nearly a century in isolation. Two things helped shape this version of him. First, the Flame Breathing panel in Interview with the Demons from Hell: Voices from Beyond the Sanzu River, the official fanbook. There we see an Akaza | Hakuji who’s cloudy, half-absent, reflecting on his actions and fate. The second is the fic through a fractured mirror, I see you by lokis helmet. While Akaza is much more animated in that one, it plays with the idea of “meeting after Akaza’s death,” in a time when the bitterness of their past sides can’t touch them anymore.

Both helped me shape this version of him: a being trapped in his own body, resigned to punishment after finally opening his eyes to what he’s done for centuries, unable to believe he deserves anything other than hell. He’s much more formal and respectful toward Kyo (that’s why he only calls him by name once), though still disbelieving of the kindness he receives.

Oh, he also got a sprinkle of canon Yushiro and early-modern-world Akaza from The Dark Between Stars by emilieee. That drama of “Now that I’m immune to sunlight and decapitation... what comes next? Why am I even here?”

Another thing I’ve been playing around with in my drafts is the idea of a special vertebra or something in demons’ necks that can cause them pain. Here, Akaza tries to be very “objective” about recounting his past with Muzan, but you can still see how that particular bone was basically a shortcut for torture.

And now that I mention Muzan—once again I ran into a language issue. When I first started writing, Akaza referred to Muzan as “master” (maestro), but after regaining his memories, I realized that term would most likely be associated with Keizo. He was his master (the one who taught him). So, in the spanish version, I decided to have him call Muzan “amo” instead (master, but as in owner). It fit better with that whole dog/tool/thing dynamic they had. Sadly, in English, both “amo” and “maestro” collapse into “master”, and I wasn't really sure about using other terms like "owner" or "lord", so that nuance got lost in translation :C

Mmm, I think that’s all for now. I hope the chapter was entertaining and made sense.

XOXO

[cryptidsurveys]

Wednesday, May 7th, 2025.

How old will the last person you kissed be on his/her next birthday? I think they will be 38…?

Have you fixed things with anyone recently? I haven't.

Look in your inbox, who’s your last message from? On Tumblr, it was just one of those spam / scam messages begging for charity.

Think of the last person who hurt you, do you forgive them? I would forgive them if they were genuinely sorry and made an effort to change their behavior, but otherwise…ehh. I'm just going to keep it professional.

What’s the relationship with you and the last person you kissed? There is no relationship between us anymore.

How did you meet the last person you kissed? Online.

Do you currently have feelings for anybody? I don't.

What would you do if you saw your significant other kissing someone else? I'm not with anyone, but hypothetically speaking, that would most likely spell the end of our relationship.

Do you give out second chances too easily? Let's just say I wish I was better at sticking up for myself and setting boundaries.

What does your hair look like? Short, brown, messy bedhead. It's also getting a bit long for me.

Have you been kissed by someone who’s name starts with a J? Josh.

Do you have someone who you can be your complete self around? My dad and my therapist. She often thanks me for being willing to be so honest.

Have you ever kissed someone whose name started with an S? I haven't.

Who was the last person you talked to? My dad.

Do you tend to make things complicated? I think I overcomplicate things in my own mind. Dwelling on certain situations, worrying about potential outcomes if I do this vs. that, getting in my own way with self-sabotage or fearing the worst, etc.

What are you doing tomorrow? Grocery shopping first thing, then perhaps a trip to the mountain park.

Has anyone ever sang or played music for you personally? I don't think so…not in the way you probably mean with this question, anyway.

What was the last compliment you received? Most likely something that was said about me at the volunteer appreciation dinner last Wednesday.

Do you like your hair? Yeah. But like I said above, I need a haircut soon.

Are you wearing anything that doesn’t belong to you? I'm not.

What song are you currently listening to? I'm not listening to anything.

What’s running through your mind right now? Yesterday. Conversations with Liv and Riley regarding Kristen because she's basically become another flavor of Alex. At this point, as long as I'm around groups of people, I feel like I'm doomed to endure the Alex Archetype in one form or another. Lol, this is round two and I feel like I'm no more skilled at handling it than I was the first time. It would be easier if it was someone I could simply avoid or with whom I could cut contact, but it's in a work environment, so I feel like I have to go along to get along because I'm not willing to sacrifice my volunteer efforts.

Did you like this past summer? Yeeeah. The tail end, verging into autumn, was a bit rough; but otherwise, it was pretty decent.

Do you wake up cranky? A little bit. Mostly sad, tired, anxious, filled with dread, lmao.

Who’s seen you at your worst? Mainly my dad. He's seen the most of my worst, anyway.

Are there certain things that can’t be joked about with you? Eh, yeah.

Did you stand on your tippy-toes for your last kiss? No.

Current annoyance? Ugh.

Do you care who wins the Super Bowl? Not really.

What’s the weather like? Cloudy, light rain, 45F.

Do you remember who you liked 4 months ago? No.

What was the last thing you drank? Coffee.

Would you hook up with the last guy you hugged? I think that was either Paul or Rob, other volunteers, and no, I would not.

Name the first person you can think of that has a tattoo. Riley.

Where did you get the shirt you’re wearing? Big Lots.

Do you smile a lot? Yeah.

Have you ever met your favourite band/singer? No.

Have you ever been in a life threatening situation? Yeah.

What did you wear today? I'm still in pajamas - gray sweats, gray hoodie, dark blue t-shirt.

What’s one thing you want to buy right now? I would love a Japanese snack box subscription.

Where do you want to travel to? Japan.

Do you like the band All Time Low? I don't really listen to them, but I probably would like them if I gave them more of a chance.

What kind of mood are you in? It's a weirdly contradictory mood. Some good, some bad.

What is something that has made you really happy this past week? The volunteer dinner. All the rain. Also, the animal shelter passed their inspection! I'm so hyped that it fell on a day when I was there.

Would you consider yourself romantic? Yeah.

Who have you texted the most today? I haven't texted anyone so far.

Are you religious at all? I believe in God and have some Jewish leanings thanks to my dad, but I wouldn't consider myself especially religious. I'm kind of a mishmash of spiritual beliefs.

Is there somebody that you wish was more involved in your life? Mmm, not really, I suppose.

Would you consider yourself crazy? Hah.

When was the last time you used the house phone? It's been many years.

Have you ever read the Hunger Games series? I have.

Are you close to any of your cousins? No. I haven't seen any of them since childhood.

Do you watch a lot of movies? A few a year. Pretty much only when I go see them with my mom, which I will be doing later today (except I forgot the name of the film).

Would you rather have snow or rain? Now that it's springtime, let's go with rain. I think I enjoy the snow more overall, though.

Do you care what people think of you? Yeah.

Have you ever had highlights in your hair? When I was younger.

Are you avoiding someone right now? Not right now.

What’s the first thing you usually do when you wake up? Check my phone, see what time it is, go to the bathroom.

Do you like to keep a routine? I do.

[uranium235s]

its me AGAIN! i come to thee bearing the questions about the structure of the universeeeeee..... but actually, let me ask you this: you mentioned in chester's intro post that he and arcade grow closer over the game events. but. how DID they end up together? what's their dynamic?? how fast did they start to get along???? how chester reacted to arcade's backstory?????? were they together when arcade introduces the courier to daisy??? tell me everythiiingggggggggg 😫😫

YAYYYYY I WANTED TO TALK ABOUT THIS SO MUCH THANK YOU!!!!! long post incoming

wellll, they honestly don't get along great at the start. Chester asks *a lot* of questions and for someone like Arcade, who feels the need to obfuscate the reality of his past and his nature, it's kind of grating, I imagine, to be interviewed constantly at the drop of a hat. on Chester's end, he finds Arcade's guarded nature to be aggravating because he feels like he should know more about this stranger watching over him. Chester, asides from his cloudy past with the legion, is very much an open book and loves to talk and share and partake in things with other people, and for all of Arcade's random rambles about the wasteland and his little introductory monologue, Arcade doesn't match that. Chester always dominates in conversations

Arcade clearly feels an obligation to make sure Chester stays safe out there, but Chester's been given no source of devotion in return. He feels guilty that he's apparently in such Critical Condition that this guy he knows nothing about jumps at the chance to take care of him, and in a less severe way feels a bit patronized by his doctoring behavior

eventually they have an argument about it after meeting Benny at the Tops, when Chester tells Arcade he's got it figured out from here and "feels better" (not true) and if they're not friends/partners in adventure then why is Arcade still here (he's not in the best state after benny screwed him over. again), leading to Arcade admitting he does consider them close and that this sappy emotional stuff doesn't always come easily to him, and Chester apologizing for prying all the time, knowing Arcade isn't at that point yet

i would sayy that from this point onward they have a more positive relationship founded on more equal footing, and it gets homosexually tense from there on out. they don't actually get into a relationship until after the game ends. kind of a "we're passably safe enough to actually acknowledge our feelings without setting up our doom" kind of thing. they have a bit of an awkward period afterwards where they're like . figuring out their dynamic again but it's much sillier than some of their rocky patches. after, they're pretty much blissfully unbothered until dead money and the fallout thereafter, but they work it out :)

AS FOR DAISYYYYY, chester actually lives in Novac whenever he's not traveling or participating in the plot, so he'd met her lots of times, but upon learning about her relationship to Arcade is a bit more awkward around her because he's suddenly really nervous about making a good impression 💀 kind of silly since they aren't even in a relationship at that point. fellas is it gay to want to impress your totally platonic adventure companions remaining maternal presence and make her like you and approve of your completely friendly relationship with her pseudoson. be honest

and as for learning about Arcade's past, Chester pretty much took it in stride. He had already confided in Arcade about his own questionable past by this point (the two had to talk about it after Chester had a breakdown after visiting Fortification Hill) and it had kind of left a bit of a hole between them that closed over with this new information. Chester really sympathized with Arcade's feelings of longing for a time that wouldn't be back and loving people who did bad things because they're your family who raised you anyway. Chester himself didn't particularly miss anyone from the Legion, but the nature of his relationship with Attilius kind of haunted him. those kinds of emotions give Chester a headache to contemplate, but he tries. being an unwilling youth caught up in an evil scheme much larger than yourself is something he really relates to, and he makes it clear to Arcade that he doesn't think his feelings are unjustified, but that he sees and will always see him as more than the shadow of his father, or any of the remnants for that matter. he's an adult. he's a fully realized person. where he came from can only define him so much. it must, or they're both doomed! El oh el

heres some additional random stuff:

playlist for them <3

fun fact i have actually had them as a couple in my mind palace since I created chester in 2019 so have this doodle from a couple years ago (2021? 2022?) but happy 5 years to my obsession with them

and additionally here's this little thingy that everyone does

I WILL GLADLY ELABORATE ON ANYTHING SO DONT HESITATE IF THERES INFORMATION THAT SEEMS MISSING AND THANK YOU AGAIN FOR ASKING!!!!