#posting it here instead of the blog

[schizophoenix]

Prometheria

TW: Gore (blood, disembowelment, autophagia), noncon implied

It had been hours, maybe, Jain couldn't really tell how much time had passed in the dark concrete basement since He came down for a visit. It was never certain how it would go, but the ending was always the same- clean up and make yourself of use. Tonight had been no different, Jain having endured dead-eyed and silent until Vaclàv was sastisfied. Clothes torn, blood staining the ground, a gaping wound in his stomach that started from beneath the sternum to just above the shaft of his groin where the organs were allowed to drape down like evergreen garlands from Jain's positioning.

There was the click of the manacles around his wrists unfastening, allowing the exhausted shifter to drop as sandbag weight to the ground and into the mess of his own disembowelment. The pain of such was merely background noise to the rest that set his nerves on fire, Jain shakily attempting to sit up on his knees to start the process of putting himself together, stopping only when the iron clasp around his ankle stopped him from moving his knees forward.

There was the disdainful hiss from Vaclàv, a command to 'clean up this mess' and the vampire was back up the stairs past the locked doors. Deafening silence, Jain began the agonizing steps to move himself and his removed organs back to a position where he could sit. The shuffle of dirt concrere debris and broke the silence, despite Jain's desire to cry in pain and despair. It was useless to cry- he had been down here long enough to realize that at least. He didn't bother to clean the debris from his organs- more focused on trying to get them back in as well as find a position to sit that didn't tear anything further. He had to pick his battles, however, and right now ensuring the loops of his intesrimes could refit into the wound made previously before it started to close up. He had to pull the flesh open a few times, his healing becoming a little overzealous when the adrenaline was still coursing his system, but as it began to fade, the work of putting himself back together was a little easier- at least physically.

The pain of what had happened, the creeping sense of disgust, loathing and lonliness would flood in. That part, Jain decided, was the worst. Granted he had never been wholly social before he found himself here, but given the only face he had seen in...weeks? Months? A year? Had only been that of the pale, gaunt face of the vampire, only bringing pain and shame, for the man to drink from his veins and despair like wine. The wine he had mocked the man for in the bar that night...

A small, hard gasp of air escaped Jain's misproportioned lungs. It's only because of the lack of pressure from his organs, he tried to assure himself, rather than the pain of memory. He worked again, fitting in his liver still barely connected through delicate web of exposed nerve and veins back into at least the approximate spot of where it belonged.

He felt the dizziness creep in- how lonf had he last eaten? He had endured at least several 'visits' from the vampire since then, and he noticed his healing begin to slow and do so in odd, granular patters. Hand holding and placing pressure on the broadest part of the wound, he stared to the large splat of blood before him. It wouldn't be enough, though Jain had resorted to 'recycling'his own blood spill when thirst got to him. No, he needed food, he needed flesh.

He let his eyes look down to the wound, the glisten of organs visible in the poor lighting. He could heal- an eye for an eye, so to speak. To take a little to save the whole could work. It could work...

He removed his hand, abdomen bent to look to the wound allowed the flesh to split open once more in a fresh plume of blood. He grabbed part of some organ- liver? Maybe the stomach?- and removed it from the heap of haphazardly placed organs there. He could heal, surely he could. Shaking hands raised the slick black organ to his mouth, teeth sinking easily into the soft organ with ease of biting into an overset gelatin. He tried not to think about it as he ate, snarling and gulping until either the organ was no more or he would pass out.

He finished before he lost consciousness, having enough sense to lie back as bloodloss won out.

---

It wasn't clear how much time had passed, but Jain did eventually find his senses again in the dark basement rather than the pits of hell or whatever afterlife awaited him. This was his hell. But at least his stomach had healed somewhat enough to allow him to move about. He knew he had work to do.

Carefully, Jain got up to all fours and felt around for the bucket of filthy water and rag he had been told to 'clean up with', and set about cleaning up the bloodstains left behind the best he could.

No one likes a dirty kitchen.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

For moment, you are home.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[rpmemes-galore]

i wanna make it unequivocally clear that there are no time limits when it comes to rping with me. idc if you're scrolling through your drafts and you find a thread of ours from two years ago+ and you wanna continue it... but you're afraid i'll be upset with you bc it's been so long...

babes, i am holding your face so gently when i say this: do the thing. i promise, the only thing i'mma be when i see that notif is excited

[aquanutart]

I was talking and I mentioned that I have my old Game Boy and original Pokemon cartridge. I said, "I think they still work."

I was told, "The internal batteries on the Game Boy cartridges have run out. They're all dead."

"Oh," I said, trying not to show how crestfallen I was. I felt like I was losing nerd cred for not knowing that, although I never kept up with that type of info anyway. I'm here for the fantasy and imaginative aspects of games, and tend not to follow the competitive or technical details.

I tried not to feel anything as I went home. If they were real animals, I reminded myself, I would have had to say goodbye long ago.

But like so many other people, Pokemon was my childhood. It was all I thought about and dreamed about, and the closest thing I could imagine to heartbreak was the knowledge that they weren't real. I spent nearly all my time writing longhand self-insert Pokemon fanfiction--far more than I spent actually playing the game. My Pokemon were with me in my imagination wherever I went. I started playing Pokemon Blue when I was 5, and the last time I had played it was probably when I was 9 or 10. I remembered I had turned it on again one more time after that, not to play it, but to look at my childhood Pokemon.

It was during high school, after a move overseas that completely upended my life, and I was struggling with the crushing blow of being taken away from everything I knew and trying to make sense of anything (least of all adolescence) in another language. All I wanted was to go back to childhood and have everything go back to how it was before.

Seeing my Pokemon, just as I'd left them, had comforted me. I had looked at their stats pages, taken photos of them with my digital camera (that I don't even know if I still have), and then turned it off without doing anything.

That was probably 9 or 10 years after the games came out. It had been a long time since then. I had long since taken the AA batteries out of my Game Boy Color and left it untouched. I didn't even have AA batteries anymore.

It had worked then. But now it had been 27 years... I thought about not trying to turn my cartridge back on. As long as I didn't turn it on, I could believe my Pokemon were still there, the way I remembered them.

On my day off, which happened to be Pokemon Day, I googled and read that some people on forums and Reddit were still able to play their original Pokemon games.

Then... it was possible. I went out to buy toothpaste. At the store, I asked where I could find AA batteries.

It was a big thing for me to be able to go to the store and buy things myself. When I moved at age 13, I felt like something went wrong with growing up. It was difficult to follow what people were saying, and people didn't always understand what I said either. I had been introverted even in English, but now I had enough negative experiences that I became afraid and stopped trying to talk to people altogether.

I threw myself into video games and reliving childhood memories. The internet was where I could communicate in my first language and understand. I lived online and didn't interact with the real world. On the internet I felt like I was understood and could find people who shared my interests the way I did, but in the real world it always felt like I could get hurt if anyone knew me.

I realize now that I could have had a better experience overseas if I'd known how to adapt and socialize, but this was not something I knew even in English, and trying to learn in another language made it ten times harder. I'm sorry now for missing out on interactions that I know I could have had, but I just didn't know how. I wouldn't know how until I learned, and it took me a long time to learn.

I grew up online, in the company of others who had trouble fitting in with the real world, even in their own language. Those experiences shaped me, and the friendships I've made and support I've received online are invaluable to me. The internet gave me a way to live, and through it I learned how to interact with others. But in many ways, for many years, it felt like my life was put on hold and I stopped growing up.

Several years ago I moved back, to not far from where I was born, and I was able to work for the first time. I began to interact with people and feel like I had a place in the real world.

After shutting myself away for so many years, every little step I made out in the world felt terrifying. But every little thing I did on my own made me feel like I was living for the first time.

Even something as little as going to the store and buying a pack of batteries.

I was directed to a shelf at the end of an aisle, and found myself looking at a rack of lithium AA batteries. Did they not sell the old kind anymore?

I walked around to the other side and was relieved to find the familiar black and brown Duracell batteries I'd known from my childhood. I felt more confident about putting in a battery that looked the same as I remembered. The smallest pack they sold was an 8-pack for $12.99. I really didn't need 8 batteries. I didn't have any other devices that used them.

I thought, what if I turn it on and it doesn't work and I'll have wasted $12.99?

I also thought we might already have batteries. I might be able to say, "Mom, do we have any batteries?" and she'd pull out two AAs from a drawer somewhere and I'd save my money.

But somehow I felt like part of what was important about this was being an adult and being able to buy my own batteries.

Yet... what if it just ended up making me sad? Was it better not to know?

I went to the checkout with just the toothpaste and stood hesitating at the edge of the checkout line.

If I didn't get the batteries now, and it turned out we didn't have any batteries, I wouldn't try it. I knew I would just put it off until even more time passed, and then... "Are you in line?" someone asked me.

"No," I said, and I turned around and went back to the shelf.

I bought the batteries.

At home, I took out my original Game Boy Color from the drawer where I left it, the one my dad had surprised me with when I was 5 years old and that I had brought overseas and back.

I put the batteries in and turned it on without a cartridge first to make sure the batteries were inserted correctly. The Game Boy logo scrolled across the screen and it made the familiar blinging Game Boy startup noise. I turned it off again, satisfied.

I took out my original Pokemon Blue cartridge, momentarily having to remember which way it went in, and slotted it in.

I turned it on, watched the whole Pokemon Blue intro out of nostalgia, and then pressed START.

My heart leaped for joy.

MY POKEMON!!!! MY POKEMON ARE ALIVE!!! 🥺🥺🥺

My original Pokemon, that were with me in 1998 when I was 5-6 years old, are still with me 27 years later. I want to cry!!! I love the old sprites, I'm SO happy to see them again 😭😭😭 the Pokemon look so little and cheerful at the same time, which I love 🥺🥺🥺 I know there are people with many more hours on their games, who have leveled all their Pokemon to 100. But these are my Pokemon who were with me through my childhood, and I spent many more hours making up stories about them than actually playing the game. I'm so happy to see them again 😭😭😭

All I want is to see my Pokemon. My other Pokemon are in boxes. Now, how do I get to the nearest PC? Where am I?

Oh... Oh. I have to confess something. When I was a kid, I was scared of the dark cave areas, and whenever I got to them, I stopped playing for a while. (I was stuck at Mt. Moon until I was like, 7.) So I never actually beat the game.

And here I am on Victory Road, with the team of Pokemon I was taking to the Elite Four, without an Escape Rope.

The only way for me to see my other Pokemon is... to finally make it through Victory Road, after 27 years?!

[kitchipon]

Tropical adopt 🌺

[skunkes]

[veryluckyclovers]

all the pretty flowers everywhere

[ra-khana]

i drew vriska again...thats crazy

sort of redraws of this and this <3

[buggachat]

hm new year's ml season's resolution of mine should maybe be to post more. even if it's just my stupid unfiltered thoughts

[banbanyuri]

[welcometoteyvat]

"Come on. Everyone's waiting for you."

[ocdkitsunami]

shador

[monkesupreme]

FIGURED since i am promoting literally everywhere else, I might as well make a post on this blog too: opening my routine amount of commission slots for the next two weeks. IF. anyone here is interested, commission post is -> here <- (on my furry blog) and google forms is -> here <-

Examples listed are $55usd (bw/monochrome fullbody) and $70usd (two bw/monochrome halfbodys)

shading is INCLUDED despite the examples not showing it

[monsterbisexual]

[stahr-critter]

chatterbox :3

(click for a lil better res)

[violetpinkskies]

I get the reasoning for why the rose was taken out was probably because people interpreted it as us actually going through the act of assaulting noelle though I am a bit miffed that because of this it does mean people are going to be very annoying to anyone who brings up the completely reasonable take that you CAN read it it as an allegory for SA, and viewing it as an allegory through that lens isnt 'gross' or 'too dark' and fits in really well with the themes of the weird route, though thats my two cents at least