#also various other OCs who were created just to fill this one

[rjalker]

Murderbot fandom Challenge 2023 challenge #1: Escaped large animal on the station

Word count: 3,101

Summary: Somehow, an animal native to Preservation gets loose on Preservation Station. Fortunately, it's not hostile. Unfortunately, it's looking for a mate, and its species has a very inconvenient way of going about finding one -- being deafeningly loud, and exuding a horrible smell that's toxic to humans and robots alike.

OC POV because my brain just did not want Murderbot to be the narrator this time. So here's Grous, completely out of order of her supposed introduction. Oh well. Just roll with it. Or don't, IDC, lol.

As usual, there's zero spoilers for the books because everything mentioned in this fic is just made the fuck up. Because there isn't actually anything (besides Martha Well's casual bigotry) in The Murderbot Diaries that I'd actually want to change in terms of the story or plot.

You are encouraged to use the animal concept here for your own original fiction or fanfiction for other things. Like I said it's 100% original.

Actually ykw no, no read-more because tumblr's stupid. It's tagged long post.

= = =

This was not one of the small, fluffy cubs the SecUnit from Preservation had had the misfortune of running into down on the planet, when it and Evrim had fallen into a nest that had been dug under the supposedly safe path leading through the woods.

This was also not one of the parents, who'd been only a little bit bigger than their offspring, bristling with spines and spitting corrosive acid, but still very easy to run away from.

No, this was neither of those options.

Turns out, adult animals of this species who hadn't found a mate yet were trying really, really hard to remedy that fact. They attempted to remedy this fact by attracting a mate. By being as attractive as possible.

And you know what these animals thought was really attractive?

Animals who were really fucking big, really fucking bright, and reeked to high fucking heaven of the most cloying smell you can imagine, that burned the eyes and nose with its strength, and could even start corroding certain metals if it was in high enough concentrations.

This trait had evolved so that while these animals were running around in the unbelievably giant forests that were their natural habitat, their scent would be dispersed on the wind over a large area, allowing them, with the additional aid of their literally deafening howls, to find eachother and see if they liked what they saw.

This is what was pacing up and down the thoroughfare of Preservation Station, sniffing at every single thing that it came upon, and growing increasingly more obviously confused.

The scent glands that covered its body were constantly producing more of the noxious chemicals that had already caused several dozen humans, only some of whom had been confirmed to have respiratory problems before this incident, to pass out from lack of oxygen, even now that they were in separate sections of the station.

The air filters were working as hard as they could, but they hadn't been designed with a situation like this in mind. Purposefully poisonous gas they could handle. But even the most advanced poison gas wasn't almost infinitely self-replicating the way this animal's smell was. Not to mention it had stuck to people's clothes and skin, and there weren't enough shower or sanitation rooms for everyone on the station to clean the smell off of them at the same time.

And to make things worse, every few minutes, the animal, viewed only by the surviving, most sturdily built cameras in the highest spots of the high ceiling, stopped its pacing to throw its head back and let out a howl so loud it was literally deafening, which had already broken dozens of display surfaces and other fragile items within the thoroughfare where it'd been locked and isolated. Including all the cameras that were further down the walls.

The first howl it had given (once it got out of the landing pod it had arrived in) had instantly incapacitated over four hundred humans and two hundred bots, knocking them violently unconscious and permanently deafening the hundreds that had been closest to it, before anyone had even realized it was there, let alone before anyone could evacuate.

More humans and bots had had to run in to try and rescue the ones who were now unconscious, with a few exceptionally brave and foolhardy ones attempting (and succeeding, to everyone's shock) to distract the animal so it wouldn't howl again until they could get everyone away, even though they were being overwhelmed by the smell.

Fortunately, this was real life, not a dramatic movie, so the animal did not immediately start roaring and howling and leaping to viciously maul everyone it saw. Because that would be counterproductive to its goals - - find a mate, and stay alive.

It wasn't interested in taking a human as a mate, and it also wasn't interested in picking a fight when it was outnumbered by animals who were each almost as big as it was. It also wasn't interested in hunting or eating right now, but even if it had been, it still wouldn't have tried to hunt any humans, because they were way bigger than what it had evolved to eat.

Also, again, it was outnumbered, so even if it was hungry, it wasn't going to pick a fight it clearly couldn't win. Real animals did not just randomly start hunting people for no reason, and especially not when they were in a new environment.

So the successive waves of humans who volunteered to try and herd it back into the landing pod it'd come out of /did/ manage to keep it distracted and busy long enough for everyone who'd been knocked unconscious by its first howl, or the toxic fumes, to be either dragged away to safety further into the station, or dragged to safety into the nearest ship, and then the hatch sealed, without getting themselves mauled.

They also weren't deafened or knocked unconscious by any new howls, because, again, it can not be stressed enough: this wasn't a movie, so the animal reacted like a real animal. And a real animal isn't going to keep performing its mate-attracting ritual while it's being harassed by many large other animals. That's just not the kind of behavior that gets passed down the evolutionary line, because that's the kind of behavior that guarantees you'll be killed before you can pass your genes on in the first place.

Fortunately, no one had died of their injuries yet, and most people were recovering enough that the medics thought that could be avoided altogether.

As for the SecUnit from Preservation?

Well, it wasn't dead. But it had been unlucky enough to be standing close to the pod the animal had come out of, so it'd been knocked unconscious as the internal structures of its ears, as well as a few other crucial systems in its head, literally shattered from the sheer volume of the animal's howl.

When it woke up - - and the medics assured that Grous that it would, hopefully at some point soon - - it would be mostly fine, except for the inability to hear through its ears. But the SecUnit from Preservation usually used drones or cameras for audio anyways, so that hopefully wasn't going to be as big of a deal as it would be for anyone else. Heck, it might even enjoy the fact that humans wouldn't be able to talk to it unless it wanted to be able to hear them.

Yes, Grous was 100% aware that was not the likely outcome of this event at all, but it was trying to keep optimistic. Imagining how devastated the SecUnit from Preservation would be when it found out it'd never be able to hear again without additional augments was not doing anything to help her mood. She'd been far away enough during the initial howl that she hadn't been knocked out, though her ears were still ringing with the after-effects. She'd never been able to smell, not in the way humans or other constructs described it, so the animal's scent wasn't bothering her, since her lungs were able to filter in enough oxygen past it with only a slightly noticeable difficulty. She knew it was there because her chemoreceptor was constantly giving her updates on the percentage of atmosphere it was making up.

Right now she was locked inside one of the spaceships stranded in the port. She'd grabbed as many humans as could hold onto her at once (Which was four when they were all conscious and cooperating) and dragged them all inside. They'd been joined by twelve other humans and five robots, one of which was another construct.

None of them knew how to fly this kind of spaceship, but fortunately the the bot pilot, Thrive, who used fe/ir pronouns, hadn't been damaged, and was more than happy to help, so the whole shipful of them were currently in the process of disconnecting from the station so the pilot could ferry those who wanted to get off down to the planet, before fe'd bring Grous and 6210311, the hauler bot who'd also volunteered to return and help out, who used he/him pronouns, back to the station.

(Fe would have let them off before bringing everyone else down to the planet, except that the animal'd wandered over to where fe was docked by that point, and even if the animal itself wasn't hostile, opening the airlock would let in too much of its smell than would be safe for the humans.)

[Pheromones], Thrive the bot pilot had corrected Grous. Apparently the smell this animal was releasing was specifically called a pheromone, because it was used to communicate a specific purpose. In this case, the purpose was finding a date.

Everyone was grateful that it was not attempting to seduce any humans or robots so far. Grous had heard stories of animals on other planets who were so social and bonded so readily with humans they'd perform mating dances at them, even if humans were dozens of times bigger than them and of a completely different body plan.

Grous wasn't sure exactly what she'd do once she and 6210311 got back to the station, but she figured that with her anosmia and the fact that she required less oxygen than humans would help in the toxic fumes department, if nothing else.

Thrive was talking to one of the systems on Preservation on a channel with a free invite so they could all listen in if they wanted, talking to a bot who studied the species of animal that had somehow gotten onto the station.

Thrive had sent down a description of the animal along with visual and audio recordings, and the bot on the surface, whose feed signature read, “Xeotherial, xe/xir/xirris” sent back a quick summary of the species, highlighting most of what they'd already figured out - - that its territorial howls were dangerous for most life forms not native to Preservation, that its pheromones were toxic to humans, and that it was generally non-hostile in its current state.

All of this they already knew, but Xeotherial also had some new information to share - - like the fact that long enough exposure to the pheromones could start to damage bots as well as humans, by physically clogging filtration systems and corroding some materials, though there wasn't yet enough research to say what effects it would have on constructs. Based on the effects it had on humans and bots, it wouldn't be anything healthy.

And speaking of the pheromone, Grous' scanner was showing that it was still present in the atmosphere inside Thrive, clinging to her skin, clothes, and mechanical parts. It was like it was more than just a smell, it was like a sticky residue. She couldn't see it except with one of her visual overlays, but she could feel it when she experimentally pinched the fabric of her shirt between two fingers. It was making the fabric stiffer, less soft than it should be, and made it stick to her fingers slightly as she pulled away.

All of the humans who'd gotten aboard Thrive had immediately fled to the bathrooms, and Grous could hear them all through the doors they'd left open along the way, very noisily complaining about the smell and trying to wash it off their clothes, skin, and hair.

6210311 had happily accepted Thrive's offer of a charging station, and was in standby mode at the moment while he, from what Grous could gather from his reactions on the open feed channel, watched a documentary about the animals in question.

Which were called mostly just Preservation grey foxes, though the grey part of the name applied to the adult and juvenile forms only, not this bright intermediate stage. Grous had never seen an adult or a baby for herself, just the recording the SecUnit from Preservation had shared with her of its (mis)adventure with Evrim.

She'd had no idea their middle stage looked anything like this. From the complaints the humans were making, (shouting and exclaiming in disgust and horror and confusion and some begrudging humor), she was guessing none of them had, either.

Thrive informed her that it would be at least half a Preservation standard hour before they were able to land, and offered her a charging station across from 6213011 if she wanted it.

But Grous didn't need to initiate a charge cycle for another few Preservation-standard days, so she thanked ir, but declined, showing ir her pantry of full power batteries.

But her chemoreceptor analysis was still showing a high concentration of the animal's pheromones on her skin and clothes, so it would be a good use of her time to try and wash it off, if she could, like the humans were. No point carrying around the smell unnecessarily.

So she left the main area and went to join the humans in the communal bathroom, who'd progressed almost all the way to being optimistic and cheerful and thinking the situation was funny, rather than just being afraid and worried. They'd left all the doors open between them and the rest of Thrive to help keep the air circulating, and most of the pheromones that had been stuck to them had been successfully washed down the drains. That would pose problems in the future if the chemicals weren't easily broken down for re-use, but that would be a problem for later.

Grous had estimated that the amount of pheromones still left hanging around her were at a level humans would find unpleasant, and was proven correct when she stepped into the further bathroom, which was less crowded than the first, and was gratified to be immediately met with a wave of “ewww!!” “aaah!!” and “uughh!!!” as she stepped in and the humans caught scent of her.

One of the naked humans closest to the door, whose short bio was listed as [Jikar, alternating he/him, they/them] in the feed, covered his mouth and nose with one hand, and waved Grous over with the other, saying urgently, their voice muffled by his hand, “Oh, quick, quick come under the water, get that stuff off of you! I'll grab you some more solid soap, we used it all.” They quickly but carefully fast-walked past her toward the door. Grous started for the shower of water that was still running over the tiled floor. Jikar's clothes had been left scattered by the drain in the floor, presumably so they'd keep getting rinsed out.

Grous started to lift her shirt over her head, but was stopped by another human's voice- -

“Don't bother getting undressed yet, just go right under the water with your clothes still on first, it'll be easier to get most of it off that way.” Grous turned to look at the voice, and saw a human sitting on one of the benches in one of the bath-showers, with new water falling down from above and the rest of their body submerged below the shoulders. Several pieces of clothing were floating or had sunk to the bottom of the small pool. A pair of crutches were visible thorugh the water sitting on a small shelf next to the human.

A quick fumble for the feed bio displayed, [Ask for my name, pronouns: sie/syr/syr/(syrs)/syrself. I am part of – ]

The human spoke again before Grous could finish reading, saying:

“When Jikar gets back with more soap, just start at the top and go down, it'll help rinse more off with the soap.” Sie gestured as sie spoke, lifting one hand out of the water and then moving it back down with the palm flat to demonstrate. “Then you can take your clothes off and wash them again. It seems to stick more to natural fibers than the synthetic ones. It shouldn't take long for your shirt, but your pants you're probably gonna have to use a whole bar on.” Sie gestured to syr clothes in the water. “I'm just going to let mine soak until we're almost ready to land. Apparently it sticks really well to dagro.”

Grous knew from her scouring of the information for Preservation that dagro was the name of an animal fiber commonly used for clothes. The species it was harvested from (nunam) were native to the same sorts of ecosystems as the Preservation grey foxes. Which sort of made sense. The foxes' pheromones had probably evolved specifically to stick to the fur of other nearby animals so they'd spread it even further than the wind could.

Jikar returned at that moment, carrying several bags of packaged soap bars. “Here you go!” He said, handing one of the bags to Grous, their nose crinkled up in reaction to the smell still sticking to her. “Ugh!” They exclaimed, “I just can't believe how bad that smells! I've lived here on Preservation for two years now, and I never knew anything that smelled that bad was living here! How can anything find that attractive?” He used their free hand to wave the air in front of his nose for emphasis.

If there was ever a time that Grous was glad for her inability to smell, it was times like these. She gratefully accepted the soap, though, and went to the next empty shower to wash off. She couldn't smell the horribleness like everyone else, but it was creating a weird texture on her skin and clothes, and just because she couldn't smell it didn't mean she wanted to subject everyone else to it.

She set the bag down and took out one of the packages of soap. It said it was clofus scented, with an artistic painting of the bark of the kiius tree on it, dotted with bright purple sap. Grous' chemoreceptor feedout informed her part of the composition of the soap did indeed match what she'd recorded the few times she'd seen kiius trees in person.

She checked the timer Thrive had been nice enough to set in the feed for everyone, and saw that there was still most of an hour left before they got to the planet. And then it would be an hour again before they could get back to the station.

Plenty of time to wash off the pheromones, and maybe start watching that show the SecUnit from Preservation was so obsessed with, to see if it was actually any good.

She sat down under under the warm shower of water, and put on the first episode of The Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Trunk or Treat with the Student Council

Based Off This Post About These OCs and a continuation from yesterday Happy Halloween to those who celebrate 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

The muffled sounds of the cheering student body and the themed music filled the small room. It was a small place with no windows, a single door, and walls as small as a public cubicle. It was an uncomfortable comparison but you were feeling just that. Shoved by none other than the pushy June you were put in a padded chair dressed to look like a golden throne adorned with jewels and pearls. 

You guessed it did match your costume. With a wine-red top that stopped just below your ribs and a matching pair of exercise shorts. Both were covered with fake golden chains or you at least you hoped they were fake. They were a little heavy on your chest but it was minor compared to the weight on your head. Per your dragon-ghost character you were given horns also adorned with golden chains and various necklaces. 

Surely it made it easier to shove you around when your attention was on not simply crumpling to the ground. It came as a surprise to you considering this was the first time you were officially allowed to wear it, let alone see the finished product.Not too long after Gill ushered you into the dark underground of the stage, June was waiting there rattling incessantly about something you could barely follow. He must have meant for it to be that way because without getting a word in edge-wise he pushed you into this chair. 

“Here you are! For your own safety you probably shouldn’t get up anymore so I’m just going to–”

CLICK

“There you are we’ll see you later! So stay put, puddin’!” 

“June w-w-wait–”

No time at all the door was shut and you were practically enveloped in darkness. Other than a small hole of light bleeding in from the outside you had nothing but your thoughts. Instead straining to hear what you could from outside. 

“---kingdom with our lovely and dead King!”

The cacophony of an adoring kingdom rang out.

“---followed by our powerful queen–”

A roar of applause.

“--ruling alongside our ghouly duke and duchess.”

Some whistles this time.

“--our oh so talented dungeon master–”

Were those toy-clackers?

“--And me your lovely lovely advisor.”

Another bout of adoring praise. 

“My outspoken advisor of the dead–”

You recognized that as Lucoa. The crowd sounded dead silent.

“--you’ve done well to introduce our court but you seemed to have forgotten the most proud and prided treasure of our ghostly court.”

“My King you’re correct as you are always. And on this day, the one day of this year that our court allows the common ghosts to behold our grandest wealth.”

The ground beneath you began to lightly move upward. Suddenly the sweat accumulated from the stuffy room turned cold as a glaze of self-consciousness came over you. Nonetheless, you ascended as a triumphant theme began to play. As the roof opened up you shut your eyes at the brightness of orange lighting. 

“Here’s our lovely, show-stopping, stunning, all-commanding, all-demanding ghostly dragon!!!”

Looking at the crowd was the first thing you did, nervously searching for any sign of disapproval finding that it was very difficult with all the lighting directed at you. You instead looked around yourself to find yourself surrounded by an abundance of fake piles of gold on a painted foam castle. 

Just beyond your elevated stature, you looked to the sides of the stage to see the members of the student council. Each stands in front of their settings–the ones you worked to paint and create before, illuminated by single spotlights. They all looked at you as Lucoa went to speak.

“Now our ghostly people, don’t be afraid! For our beloved kings and leaders of our ghostly kingdom will tame them!”

With a stronger spotlight on him, Lucoa made his way toward your tower. Calmly climbing a set of stairs that led up to your place. The crowd began to whistle and holler in a hushed tone; no doubt whispering of the illusive Council President making his way to you.

His blue hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, flaring out under the crown he had on. Along with the red and gold of a typical king costume, there was a transparent golden veil draped over his face. Matching the golden shackle binds on his wrists and ankles clink with broken golden chains. 

As he got closer you could make out the smile on his face grow as he came closer to you. The typical silver piercing on his lip was replaced by a gold one. The same could be said for his ear cuff.

“I’m starting to think you just wanted an excuse to dress up in something gold.”

“Really? Is that all I wanted?” 

The teasing tone of his had you rolling your eyes. Despite being so far away from the crowd you both kept your conversation to a whisper. 

“Seems like it. That and humiliating me.”

He trailed his hands along your arm, doing it lightly and quick enough to be written off by you. Resting his hand on your shoulder he brought his hands to the hanging golden bangles on your horns, pulling them over your shoulder as he lay it over and around your back. Bending down he whispered into your ear. 

“I’d prefer we call it, showing you off.”

You turned your head to ask him more but were stopped by his hands squeezing your cheeks. Forcefully turning your head back to the crowd he kept his grip on your cheeks firm as he signals Roman with a look.

“The King is the expert at taming them but as your beloved Council we will do everything together!”

Wanting to ask what he was talking about you tried to move your mouth, finding he was refusing to let your jaw open let alone turn your head as you heard the other members of the Student Council come up to your platform. 

“Ugh even if it’s not a real dress; the transparent veil over the harem pants is too much for me!”

“Awww don’t be such a sourpuss, Spencer! Once you get in one you’ll never want to go back~!”

“So you’ve said.” 

“June looks lovely in dresses.”

“Of course, you’d say that Gill.”

“I bet (Y/n) would too.”

“I-I-I say it’s a missed chance then.”

June was the first to approach skipping over to you, smiling smugly in your face. He hopped onto your lap laying his legs across both of yours, nuzzling into your chest. Keeping eye contact with you he traced his fingers along the skin he could reach from beneath the golden features of your costumes. You tried to squirm away from his touch, stopping when the hands on your jaw forced you to look up. 

A single look was all you needed before you stopped your attempts. Annoyed with your attention being changed, June slipped his hand under the golden accessories around your chest, playing with the hem of the red crop top you fought to wear underneath. Any normal person would have doubts that anything was there at all but for someone whose boyfriend drew the designs himself—it was an easy target. 

“Probably but I’m in no way disappointed with this at all.”

Feeling the cold touch of lips touching your left hand, you turned your attention–the best you could–to Gill who had stationed himself there. Kneeling on the side of your chair he gingerly held your hand occasionally kissing it tenderly. Subtly trying to pull your arm away wasn’t working as June got more daring and Gill refused to release your hand.

“I am glad. I too thought this would be more desirable. Especially with June already in a dress.”

“Aw you tease~”

“O-o-oh don’t m-misunderstand,” Min spoke up. Dressed in some arbitrarily skimpy dungeon master costume he came close kneeling in front of you. “I-i-i-i’m very happy with the accessibility in this design.”

His hands were smaller, very nimble, and oh so cold. You couldn’t help the involuntary hitch in your throat as he held your leg letting his fingers get to the underside of your thigh. Feeling the vibrations of laughter Lucoa’s voice made your cheeks burn. 

“Sensitive, huh?”

Looking away from him the best you could, you gauged the others' reactions. Gill and June shot Min a glare, whereas the man in question was blushing intensely. The treasurer let his hand lightly squeeze at the meat of your thigh letting out a noise when you bit your lip to stop yourself from saying anything more. With an apologetic look, he moved himself down gingerly caressing your ankle as he eyed the closed-toed sandals you chose. 

“I think…m-m-maybe next time we’ll have you wear something m-more open! B-b-but this is a gift nonetheless. ”

Placing a passionate kiss on your ankle instead, he kept his hands on your leg, occasionally rubbing his reddened cheek against your knee. If that wasn’t enough June was getting annoyed changing his focus to the hem of your shorts. Smiling at you when you sent a look of warning. Taking your mind off it, Spencer came to your side lightly bending down as he offered a hopeful smile. 

“Well if it’s worth anything…you are the prettiest ghost dragon I’ve ever seen.”

You sent him a thankful look and opened your hand when he politely prodded with his fingers. Opening your hand, you let him clutch your hand intertwining his fingers with yours as he leaned against the chair. His happy smile was enough to distract you as the final member of the student council trudged up. 

“And finally folks your dearest advisor will properly finish taming this beast!” 

He turns to cutely wink at you, giving a final address to the audience who were still whispering amongst each other. 

“Finally a final call from our be-loved King!”

Still holding the microphone Roman turned to you. He moved to sit on your lap, curling a lip in disgust when he saw June’s legs across the other leg. June mockingly smiled at him, expecting him to sit beside Min who was happily on the floor. Roman shot him a look and shoved his legs off, causing June to lightly yelp while he repositioned himself on his half of your lap. 

Not even flinching at Gill’s glare he leaned his head on your unoccupied shoulder as he held the microphone up for Lucoa. 

“I encourage all of you to look this Halloween but don’t touch.”

At that, Roman tucked away the microphone playing with the the gold around your chest. The audience on the other hand let out a mighty roar. A ghoulish obsessive yowl that was only illuminated by the constant flashes of high-grade cameras and cell phone video. 

No one name could be pinpointed that the crowd was calling for. 

But among those names were a few familiar syllables that had you questioning. 

But what remained clear was the power and confidence of the Student Council. 

To have you on a stage for all to see. 

Now that…was creepy.

[lovelylusts]

cloud nine // csb // 03 - d-day

summary: a group of friends form on nsfw twitter, and hijinks ensue. but when jisu starts catching feelings for soobin after filming with him, she has to grapple with her feelings while assuring her close bond with him doesn’t die.

general warnings: choi soobin x oc (moon jisu), smau, smut, fluff, angst, crack, the rest of txt is here too, aespa is also here just bc they serve, no relationships or events in this story reflect real ships and are just for the story, this is a pro sex-work story obv, lowkey probably gonna be filthy as hell considering it’s a sex work au, vague relationships lmao, she/they oc because i’m projecting, genderfluid yeonjun agenda, oc has a not-so-secret thing for soobin’s hands, they use fake names on twt :)

chapter warnings: this one is written!!, there’s a lot of warnings i’m sorry 😭, hard?dom!soobin (with mildly sub thoughts), sub!oc (with mildly dom thoughts), jisu uses she/they pronouns but i only used she while writing this to make reading more seamless, lots of mentions of sexting and nudes and sex work onlyfans and nsfwtwt as per the last chapters), grey sweatpants deserves its own warning tbh, she wears a collar and cat ears but there’s no petplay, filming, dry humping, biting + hickeys, brief mention of edging, obscene amounts of precum mentioned a few times, they’re both pretty needy and fucked out, some pretty messy deepthroating, very brief and vague comparison of jisu to succubus, consensual !! head-pushing, face-fucking, makeup kink?????? idk he likes seeing her makeup get more and more messed up, praise, the tearing of clothes, nipple play, pussy eating, fingering, squirting, protected!!!!! vaginal sex (cowgirl), lil bit of possessiveness but it’s just dirty talk, multiple orgasms (jisu), aftercare

word count: 4.5k

series masterlist // general masterlist

⋆⛧*┈┈┈┈﹤୨♡୧﹥ ┈┈┈┈*⛧⋆

the weekend came sooner than jisu had expected. she had spent the past couple of days making overpriced coffee for broke college students like herself, and her nights going over video ideas with soobin that led to steamy phone calls. it wasn’t the first time the two had had a sexual exchange - in the early days of being mutuals, as was common in their sphere, they had numerous sporadic conversations that veered into late nights filled with hasty texts riddled with misspellings from having to text with one hand as they aided in getting each other off.

it was always funny to jisu how her friendship with soobin started, and how their group of friends formed. they were all strangers from the internet who all, except for yizhuo, lived in seoul for various reasons, be it living the former idol trainee lifestyle or having been born and raised there. if anything, jisu had been more intimate with these friends than any partner in the past couple of years since she had created her twitter account. their group chats were filled with opinions on racy photos, exchanging stories of hookups, and shamelessly flirting with each other on a platonic level.

so why was jisu so nervous right now? this wasn’t the first collaboration she had ever done - her most popular post to date was a collection of photos of herself and minjeong posing lewdly together in skimpy witch costumes for halloween. was it his height? his versatile personality in sexual situations? jisu eventually landed on the idea that this would be the first time she filmed herself having sex for profit. the idea made her stomach flutter.

soobin lived a short drive away from her, and it was a drive she had been well acquainted with for a while now. beside her in the passenger seat sat a backpack that, during nine months of the year, was filled with textbooks and folders, but was now housing a collection of objects that her fans knew well - some pastel pink rope, a small black bullet vibrator, fluffy pink cat ears with a dainty collar to match, and so on.

neatly on top of these items was a folded set of lingerie. the previous night, while on facetime with soobin, she rummaged through her extensive collection of sexy garments, looking for sets she wouldn’t miss if something were to happen to them. it was a hard decision, but they eventually agreed on a simple lacey set that was quite see-through - there wasn’t really anything special about it, but it still hugged jisu’s body perfectly and made the blood rush out of soobin’s head down to his dick.

jisu felt her heart thumping harshly as she navigated her way around soobin’s apartment complex until she ultimately reached his place, her hand firm against the pale grey door as she knocked three times, the door opening only moments later to reveal her tall friend.

she was always shocked when she saw him in person because, in her words, “he’s basically a giraffe.” she couldn’t help but gaze over him, noticing that he was wearing those damn grey sweatpants that she recognized from late-night photo exchanges. oftentimes, he would be wearing those well-loved sweats when he sent her photos of him grabbing the outline of his hard member. this has to be on purpose, she thought to herself.

“hey, jisu,” he said sweetly as he pulled her in for a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist as she did the same. he couldn’t help but take in her signature scent, a soft mix of vanilla and lavender, and he held her close. maybe it had been due to the days of anticipation and planning, but he could already feels the butterflies in his stomach and the blood rushing down to his cock as he pulled away from her. “you ready?”

“let’s do this.”

⋆⛧*┈┈┈┈﹤୨♡୧﹥ ┈┈┈┈*⛧⋆

jisu thought that she’d be prepared for this. after so long of filming and taking photos of herself in compromising situations, she truly thought she was ready for this. but as she sat on soobin’s lap on his bed, grinding against him with her back arched away from the rolling camera and her covered chest against his bare one, she had never felt so vulnerable in her entire life - not when she opened her twitter account, not when she sexted a stranger in her dms for the first time, not when she first posted on onlyfans. it seemed that it was soobin’s large hands gripping her ass as he rocked her lace-covered clit against the monster in his precum-soaked boxers that made her feel more exposed than ever. it was her long dyed hair swept over one shoulder so the camera could capture soobin biting and sucking on the sensitive skin of her neck that adorned a fluffy baby pink choker. it was the fact that she was unsure if she had ever been this aroused in her entire life.

soobin himself wasn’t holding up too well either. it was as if there was no blood left in his brain because it had all flowed down to his other head. through all the grinding and grabbing and heavy breathing and sighing against each other, he felt that he could finish at any moment - he was so thankful that he had trained himself in the art of edging, because he was certain that he would have cum at least twice already had that not been the case.

“s-onyx,” she sighed out, being careful to only refer to him as his social media name. “i-i wanna suck your cock. please.” jisu couldn’t help that her request came out as a breathy whimper. she was familiar with his dick from photos and videos, but she had never seen it in person. the thought of finally being able to touch him made her mouth water.

soobin’s brain almost short-circuited upon hearing those words leave her perfect lips, the lips that he had seen wrapped around her own fingers, candies, and sex toys that made him think god, i would give anything to feel them around me. his head lolled back, his teeth digging into his bottom lip due to the combination of her dirty words and a particularly delicious roll of her hips against his own. “fuck, yes.” he almost let a please roll out as well, but with what little control he had over himself at the time, he knew he couldn’t. he couldn’t slip out of the dominant role after all the planning that went into this video of him ruining her.

jisu slid off of his lap, looking down and smirking when she saw the large wet patch that covered his boxers, then grabbed the secondary camera and handed it to soobin as she fixed her lingerie and hair while he turned on the camera, fumbling a little bit due to the arousal that made his brain feel foggy. the camera soon switched on as he held it at his chest, looking into the view finder to see the perfect image of jisu between his thighs, somehow looking so innocent yet so seductive, her nipples poking at the thin lace of the bra she chose for the shoot, and fluffy pink cat ears pinned to her lightly curled hair - he soon decided that no matter how incredible she looked at that moment, her appearance wouldn’t matter by the time he was done with her. his goal was smeared mascara, torn clothes, and cum covering her face and bleached bangs.

her intimidation was overshadowed only by her excitement as she began to tug down the waistband of his underwear, watching as he lightly lifted his hips up to help her, until they were off and discarded somewhere in his bedroom. she swore she could sense soobin’s heart racing as she eyed him up and down with dark eyes before wrapping her right hand around the base of his cock, her other hand resting on his hip bone. she looked up at him through her mascara-coated lashes - she made sure to forgo her usual waterproof mascara in favor of letting the black run down her face in streaks and splotches, maybe even some staining the light blue quilt below her. their eyes met, both of them smiling at each other briefly, before she stuck her tongue out to lick a stripe from right above her hand all the way to his leaking tip. upon her tongue reaching his head, she began to slowly glide her hand up and down his cock, the movements made easy by the obscene amounts of precum released only minutes earlier, while wrapping her lips around the head of his cock, moaning lightly as she took in the taste.

soobin threw his head back, an obscene moan leaving his mouth as his right hand instinctively reached ouch for her, his fingers lacing in the strands of her hair close to her scalp. he wasn’t going to force her movements, not yet at least, though it took everything in him to not do so. they had talked about it - face-fucking, that is - and while she was, to quote, “so down,” he wanted to take in the moment. he wanted to know what she would do while she was in charge of the moment.

jisu was a bit worried about how much of him she could fit in her mouth. she knew he was huge, but seeing it in person, having it in her hands, was way different. fuck it, she decided, and decided to surprise him by taking him as far as she could down his throat, which was considerably far for how long and thick he was, and a loud gag erupted from her throat as she tried to hold his member in place for a second, pulling away when she felt it was too much, an obscene amount of saliva following her lips. she took the moment to recover a bit, stroking her right hand along his length and spreading her saliva as she lightly twisted her wrist.

she reveled in the sight of soobin’s reactions as she did this, seeing that he was already struggling a bit. his cheeks were red, and despite him biting his lip, he was still making quite a bit of sound. she realized that he had never actually filmed with anyone before. she had gotten so used to him either doing fan-service content in the form of dirty talk audios or photos of his really pretty hands, or videos of him simply jerking off, but she had never actually seen or heard him with another person. for a second she tried to convince herself that it was the excitement of not always being able to expect what a partner may do that made him react in such a way, but, for the sake of her ego as well as the throbbing between her thighs, she told herself it was all because of herself. she shot him a small smirk before taking his length back into her mouth, this time bobbing her head, a soft gag leaving her throat each time she took him.

his grip on her hair tightened a bit as he struggled to breathe properly. he had had many sexual ventures in his time being a college student, but this was different. he swore that she was secretly a fuck, what are they called? those hot sex demons. suck something. suck. suck. holy fuck she’s sucking me off so good. he couldn’t think straight as he felt her hot, wet mouth around his painfully hard cock. he was still gripping the camera with one hand, though he no longer cared if the shot was clear or not, whether it was even pointing at her or if the had angle shifted while he struggled to not writhe under her touch. “fuck, baby, it feels so fucking good,” he groaned out.

jisu could feel her cheeks heat up ever-so-slightly at the praise. this entire situation was really bad for her ego. she pulled off of him with a deep, loud inhale, even more saliva pooling around her mouth and fist, as well as along soobin’s length. her momentary stop gave him the slightest moment of clarity, checking to make sure the camera was focused and looking at the view finder to see jisu with flakes of mascara beneath her eyes, the small bit of eyeliner smudged, and the cat ears lopsided from where he had grabbed the hair next to it. he also used this moment of clarity to go through the mental list he had made of things they thought about including - they hadn’t decided on anything concrete, deciding to go with the flow and do whatever felt natural. so jisu wasn’t exactly surprised that soobin had moved his fingers closer to the back of her head to push her down towards his cock. she eagerly let him take control, at first only lightly guiding her movements as she returned to her previous routine of taking him down her throat.

soobin was able to focus better this time around, the small pause having helped him compose himself. he was nearly convinced that this is what heaven felt like. her lips looked so perfect around him, her eyes looked so perfect as they met his with a devious innocence - which was something he was sure would never exist until he saw jisu peer up at him so sweetly while doing such sinful things to him. that’s when he decided to fully grab her hair and hold her head in place, instead pushing his hips up towards her face. the gagging sounds intensified and became shorter as he went at a pace quicker than what she had previously set.

she was loving every second of this. it was fun to be in control, even if just for a moment, to make him lose his mind, but she had to admit that being used as a fucktoy suited her just as well. she felt the tears that had already formed along her waterline begin to drip down her face, her eyes stinging a bit as her mascara began to face its demise. but much to her disappointment he soon pulled his cock out of her mouth, looking at the mess of saliva in awe.

“you did so good for me, jiu,” he said, trying not to sound as breathless as he felt for the sake of his ego. “wanna taste you.” he quickly saved the video and turned the camera off before pulling her back towards him, delivering a hard smack to her ass before pushing her down on the bed, making sure in the view finder that a good amount of her body was shown, then reaching for her lacey bra.

rip.

he had pulled at the seam between her breasts until it tore, pushing the two pieces to the side to reveal her nipples, perky from the cool air now meeting them. he grabbed her soft tits in his hands, lightly squeezing them and running the pads of his thumbs over her nipples, which, judging by the slight whine that came from her, were sensitive. he reached over to suck on one nipple while pinching the other, reveling in the small sounds she made as he did so, switching sides to assure they were both equally loved, before trailing his lips down her torso, making sure to leave hickeys here and there before reaching the waistband of her underwear.

jisu knew was to expect when he sat up briefly, quickly tearing the other half of the lingerie set and letting it fall against the bed before he leaned over, wasting no time and diving in, slipping his tongue between her sticky folds to collect some of the wetness leaking from her pussy. she let out a whiny moan, her hips jerking lightly. he was barely starting, and she was already infatuated by his tongue.

“god, you taste so fucking good,” he growled against her, pushing her legs further apart and bringing her legs over his broad shoulders. he was fully addicted to this, there was no doubt. he felt as good giving her head as he did receiving it from her - how could he not when she tasted that good? and she was so sensitive too, practically just as much of a mess as he was minutes earlier, but way more vocal about it too. her soft, high-pitched moans were so filthy, so pornographic, they were music to his ears. he didn’t care how messy his sheets were becoming beneath him as he lightly ground his cock against the fabric, surely leaving behind a large puddle of saliva and precum as he stimulated his painfully hard cock.

she was sure she had never been this sensitive before. like soobin, she had also had her fair share of sexual escapades in her time as an undergrad student, but nothing was comparable to this. not even close. his tongue moved flawlessly against her wet heat as his large hands dug into her hips as she bucked against him. she felt like she couldn’t even control her hips as her hips lightly jerked, which eventually turned into full-blown grinding against his face when he decided to wrap his plush lips around her clit. she was so far gone that she hadn’t even noticed his right hand leaving her hip, only noticing when she felt a finger or two teasing the entrance of her tight cunt.

the sound she released as he inserted a finger into her pussy was probably the best sound he thought he would ever hear, though this was quickly replaced by the sound she released as he curled the finger against her g-spot. he swore he almost came from taking in her reaction alone. her fingers were entangled in his soft black hair, desperately moving her hips to make him go faster. this only led to another slap being delivered to her ass.

“you’re gonna take what i give you when i give it to you, or else you’re not cumming. have i made myself clear?” he talked to her sternly, making her head spin so much that she could barely let out a cohesive sentence. “i asked you a question, baby.”

“yes,” she squeaked. “i’ll be good, i promise.”

“good girl,” he muttered as he reconnected his lips to her swollen clit, entering another finger into her wet cunt and continuing to finger-fuck her with his digits perfectly angled against her sweet spot. “you’re such a fucking mess for me. i wonder how many times i can make you cum tonight. wanna find out, baby? hm?” his deep voice almost sounded condescending, laced with so much arousal that he was sure he barely sounded like himself.

“please make me cum,” she repeated over and over again like a mantra, more and more tears spilling from her eyes and falling down her temples, her head thrown back against his comforter as she felt the knot in her stomach begin to tighten. already? fuck, how is he capable of this?

her pleading only encouraged him as he sucked harder on her clit and pushed a third finger inside of her, fingers hitting against her g-spot at a pace he didn’t think he was capable of.

“fuck,” she squealed, her first orgasm of the night crashing down on her like a tsunami. she didn’t even notice the wetness that was gushing out of her, hitting not only soobin’s face but also his blanket.

“fuck, jiu, that was so fucking hot. you did so fucking good,” he rambled as he brought his face back closer to hers, pressing a kiss against her lips. the kisses were messy and needy, moaning into each other as they tasted themselves on each other’s tongues. “i need to be inside you, holy fuck.” he wasted no time standing up, making sure to take the scraps of fabric off of jisu’s body and throw them haphazardly across the room before walking towards the camera set-up, making sure that everything was in place for the last scene.

the view finder showed that the camera couldn’t even capture how incredible, how erotic jisu looked to him. hickeys littered her collared neck and pale torso, her eye makeup was everywhere except where it was meant to be, her ass was a soft red from where his hand had met the smooth skin, and a thick sheen of ejaculate and precum slicked her inner thighs. the most devilish angel he could even dream of.

he walked back towards the bed and sat back against the pillows, pulling her towards him to sit her in his lap, both of them shivering as they lightly brushed against each other. he was quick to grab the condom off his nightstand and roll it on his cock before tightly grabbing jisu’s hips and pulling her down to sit on it, watching with a dark gaze as his length disappeared into her pussy. he couldn’t help but pull her close against him, moaning into her neck as her tight, warm, wet walls fluttered around him.

“fuck, you’re so fucking big,” she whined out, raising her hips until he was mostly unsheathed before lowering her hips once again. his cock was filling her perfectly in every way, brushing just right against her g-spot and even hitting lightly against her cervix. it was at that moment that she was almost certain she could die happily.

“you’re so fucking tight. god, this pussy was made just for me, yeah?” soobin kept rambling as she bounced on his cock, her tits jiggling and her perky nipples brushing against his chest every so often. these words weren’t just taken from the random audios he would post - well, he had probably said those words before, but he didn’t actually mean it. this time, though it wasn’t evident to him due to how little he felt his brain worked from how good she felt, he really did mean it. sex was ruined for him forever, he was convinced. no one could make him feel as good as jisu was.

jisu was fairing far worse, basically unable to form words and instead whining an affirmative against the skin of his neck, where she couldn’t even bring herself to return the favor of the numerous bruises littering the skin of her neck, instead pressing soft yet messy kissed in an identical spot. she wasn’t sure if it was her lack of clarity or something else, but his words sparked something in her. it really did feel like he was speaking the truth, after all, she couldn’t disagree that she had never been filled up so perfectly before, how no one had made her feel so incredible it was basically unreal. the feeling, rather than any of this actually forming a coherent thought in her fucked-our brain, was interrupted by soobin’s hand colliding with her ass yet again.

“use your words,” he demanded before bringing his hand down on her once again. as much as he loved hearing her pathetic little sounds, he craved hearing the words struggle to come from her mouth. yeah, this shoot was definitely unhealthy for his ego, but he couldn’t have cared any less when her pussy hugged his throbbing cock so nicely.

“y-yes. my pussy was made just for you.” saying the words out loud brought back the funny feeling, though it was quickly replaced by the rubber band inside of her snapping once again, crying out as she came. soobin lifted her hips up so the camera could see as he reached his fingers between her legs as her orgasm rippled through her, rubbing his fingers against her at a furious speed, making another round of fluids gush out of her hole again. soobin’s cock, thighs, and any of the surrounding blanket was absolutely soaked, but god, they both loved it.

he brought her hips back down, this time taking control completely when he realized she could barely move by herself. his grip on her was intoxicating, sending shivers down her spine as she cried from the overstimulation. “please,” she cried out to him, “i need to cum again.”

he grinned deviously at her. “anything for you, babygirl.” he brought her hips down against his faster and harder, addicted to the way her walls kept constricting around him. his words aided in bringing her closer again already, her moans becoming more and more frequent with her volume becoming harder and harder to control. then he brought his fingers back to her clit and rubbed in small circles.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” jisu kept crying out against him, cumming hard around him once again, squirting all over him before falling limp against his chest. he took the opportunity her current state gave him to push her backwards, making sure her legs weren’t in too uncomfortable of a position before he ripped the condom off and sat his knees on either side of her neck, and began quickly stroke his aching cock. finally, after forcing himself to hold it in for the duration of their filming, soobin finally let go, his cum spurting out and painting her face, hair, and clip-in cat ears in what felt like ounces of cum. he ran his fingers through as much of his cum as he could gather before shoving them in her mouth, whispering praises to her as she licked it all off.

⋆⛧*┈┈┈┈﹤୨♡୧﹥ ┈┈┈┈*⛧⋆

jisu soon learned that soobin was not only incredible at fucking, but incredible at after care. shortly after removing his fingers from her mouth and taking a moment to regulate his breathing, he got off the bed and made his way to the bathroom connected to his room, coming back with some wet washcloths to clean the messy mix of saliva, precum, and cum off of both of them, making sure to get as much cum out of jisu’s hair as possible so washing it later wouldn’t be as difficult for her. he threw both of the dirty towels somewhere in the room, deciding to pick up the loose articles of clothing later. right now he had to focus on jisu. he grabbed the extra pair of clothes she had packed and helped her put on the pair of boyshorts and the loose t-shirt, though he couldn’t help but notice the many other goodies she brought that they didn’t use.

“i don’t think we needed them,” she said with a small shrug as she sat on the chair he had placed her in so he could change out the sheets on his bed. “you were… wow. i don’t think i can ever sleep with anyone else ever again.”

“same,” he said with a chuckle. “we should do this again. with or without a camera.”

“yeah, i would really like that,” she said with a smile. the entire time he helped her unwind after they finished, she couldn’t help but notice that the weird feelings of butterflies that she had gotten earlier had returned. but they were done filming, there was nothing sexual going on. so what did it mean?

⋆⛧*┈┈┈┈﹤୨♡୧﹥ ┈┈┈┈*⛧⋆

[hello-there-cyarika]

More Hive Troopers <3

More bee troopers! ... Boopers.... BEE-PERS (all of my file names that feature these boys so far have referred the them as "the beepers" lol)

Anyhow, I figured I'd add some more information on how the hive troopers operate below, so keep on reading!

At the start of the war, the venators were outfitted with barracks for the troopers that were fully furnished with bunks and such things

The troopers.... didn't really like the bunks... like at all

The would take the bunks and push them all over to one side, and use the rest of the room as a building space for a huge wall of honeycomb!

Eventually the Jedi caught on, and helped the troopers remove all of the unused bunks

The troopers build huge, ceiling to floor, winding walls of honeycomb to act as the hive's living quarters

The honeycomb compartments come in a variety of sizes!

The biggest compartments are longer than a trooper is tall, and about 2x a trooper's width (wings and secondary abdomen included) in diameter, so these compartments are the ones for sleeping in!

Some are even wider, for those who like to share :)!

The sleeping compartments are filled with comfy pillows and blankets left from the bunks

Various smaller compartments are perfectly sized for storing extra pillows and blankets, datapads, personal items, and all sorts of things!

The gear lockers, which came with the original furnishing of the room, are built into the thicker walls of the honeycomb

The troopers will only very begrudgingly admit that the gear lockers are more suited for storing their kit than the honeycomb (they're very salty that the locker is not an optimal shape to fit in with the rest of the honeycomb)

Gear lockers are not honeycomb optimized

Anyway

Troopers are capable of creating beeswax just like any bee, albeit for much longer during their much longer lifespan, and in much larger quantities

Hence why in the doodle above, Wooley, who is off duty and helping to build up the honeycomb, is not wearing upper armor.

Bees produce wax from the underside of their abdomen, and trying to reach around to collect that while in full upper armor is... less than comfortable lol

Speaking of anatomy, despite being clones, all troopers' wings are entirely unique!

Well, almost entirely- twins have identical wings!

(this may or may not be a Secret of the Wings reference that movie is so good)

Clone trooper twins are grown in the same tube, and have a special connection

Twins are also SUPER rare

The iconic @cacodaemonia invented this concept for me, and as far as I'm concerned their OC Kom'mrk is 10000% canon and has matching wings to Boil!

(please for fucks sake yall go read Open Skies I stg my life has not been the same since)

Cadets have very weak wings when they're first decanted

It takes until they're about 3.5-4 standard for their wings to fully develop and strengthen enough for them to fly

Until then, they practice by buzzing a whole lot to strengthen the muscles in their torso

On another anatomical topic, the way that troopers communicate in the "hive mind" is via pheromones!

Just like bees, they have extremely sophisticated and complex pheromone signals that can only be detected by other troopers via their antennae

During the night cycle/sleep hours, troopers will try and keep quiet and communicate primarily via pheromones

If you're not a trooper (or a Jedi lol), the only way you'd be able to figure out their silent communication is with super complex and specialized equipment

On the other hand, troopers have to watch out for weapons from the Separatists that involve pheromone-mimicking gases

The gases could cause them to lose their sense of direction, get cut off from the rest of the hive, or other disorienting things

Speaking of directions!

(fuck i have so many ideas to get out lol)

While the idea of the troopers doing a proper bee waggle dance is absolutely hilarious and so cute to me, I think that in reality it'd be a bit more calm

Instead of lots of crazy shaking back and forth, it's more of a purposeful sway!

This.... does make dancing at 79's significantly more confusing when they first start learning to dance for fun

Echo: "are you telling me that there's something I need to go find 400 klicks away at 32 degrees??"

Fives: "what no I'm just having fun"

Unlike bees, who only use the sun, troopers can also use the moon to calculate their maps!

On planets with multiple moons and/or suns, the commander will choose one sun/moon to be used as the reference for all maps

When on a moon for a campaign, the moon's planet can also be used

In rare and difficult situations, troopers can also use particularly bright stars! Usually only the ARFs are skilled enough for that, though

I think for my next doodle I'll either do wolffe, fox, thorn, tup, and dogma OR the bad batch + omega... haven't decided yet! let me know if you have a preference lol

anyway thank you all for giving so many lovely comments on my previous post about these boys! i love yall so much <33333

<3 I do not give my consent or my permission for my art to be re-posted or reuploaded on this or any other website <3

[tracybirds]

Remember my TAG Sims 4 save that I’m building? Well it’s well time for an update on where I’m at! I’m having great fun populating the worlds with characters and various people’s OCs* and thought I’d show off how they’re going! I’m focusing on CAS (Create A Sim) rather than building in this save and trying to create a full world of sims! Also note that I’m planning on the gameplay beginning with a teenage Jeff, so no main characters for now. I play with aging off and age them all manually so the other characters will just stay the same age until I’m ready to interact with them.

I’ve finished three worlds; Willow Creek, Oasis Springs, and Sulani. Working on Newcrest and Henford-on-Bagley next! Today I'll show off the characters made in Willow Creek :)

*I’m only showing the TAG characters and the OCs I have made for them today, not OCs made by other people... mostly because I'm not done!! Also if you're interested in my making your Thuderbirds OCs, let me know! I have a lot of households to fill lol and they'll just hang out in the background of the game :D

Notable changes: I moved the park to the Oakenstead lot, added a second park (in Foundry Cove) and a skate park. I changed the museum into a botanical library and placed a community garden next to it. There is now an early childhood education centre and a hospital that can be visited, and I placed a gym and a museum. I did not make any of the builds, they’re all found on the gallery and then tweaked.

There are twelve households in Willow Creek, including an apartment with four families. The only townies I care about are the Goths so they’ll end up being the only non TAG characters. I found a renovated Goth Mansion and a Goth family revamped to look closer to their Sims 2 counterparts on the gallery and stuck them in there :)

Sims 4 lore down, let me show off the sims!!

Sally, Grant and Jeff Tracy

In this save, Jeff has two brothers and a sister, based off of @amistrio's hc :D

Kyrano, Kayo and Tin-Tin

I decided I wanted to add in Tin-Tin and I have vague memories of reading a fic where they were sisters, so I went ahead and did it :D

Brains, Brains and Fermat Hackenbacker

I love Brains ahaha so I put him in twice :D why not after all!

The Apartment Building has four families: Ned Tedford, Tycho Reeves (and his brother David...lol), Wayne Rigby (and his daughter Eleanor... double lol, I think it was @katblu42 who suggested that name :D), and Kat Cavanaugh (who I gave a sister who lives in Oasis Springs, but I've included said sister for completeness)

Ned Tedford

I gave him lots of freckles mostly because I think they look sweet ahaha... I'm tempted to make Gladys a Plant Sim, but for now he's just going to enjoy gardening :D

Tycho and David Reeves

Come on... I had to XD David's a doctor whose aspiration in life is to solve the Strangerville mystery ahaha

Wayne and Eleanor Rigby

Yes the glasses are on purpose :D I love the idea of Rigby being a single dad and I also aged him up a little simply because he's clearly been with the GDF for a while and it made sense to me.

Kat and Sara Cavanaugh

Sara is Kat's older sister but they don't get on so they live in different worlds.

And finally, our last couple of houses are filled by...

Cass McCready, Aiden Hawkins and Theo McCready-Hawkins

Cass is obviously our favourite firefighter, and so I decided to create Aiden to be her fiance and Theo to be their kid. I always imagined Cass having two boys and to be a single mum when she met iR for the first time, so I did give Aiden a couple of less desirable traits lol... I'd like to play out their story at some point so they only have Theo to start :D

Reece and Dobbs (aka our favourite space pirates/scrappers!)

I love these guys so much, they crack me up :D They're space married, don't question me on this, and they live in a tiny home with some chickens xD I might see if I can replace their current home with one that's modelled after a spaceship bc that would be fun!

Robert and Aidan Williams

Aidan is one of my favourite kid characters in the show and I love him! So cool headed even when crisis is happening and his dad is hurt :( I thought for a long time about whether I'd add in more family but then I realised the house was only two bedrooms and then I invented a story where his mum had recently passed away and him and Gordon could have some bittersweet bonding (bc Gordon stays in touch and remembers everyone obviously!!) so I decided to leave them as they were and also the smaller the household the less likely the game is to crash lol

WillowCreek also is resident to three OC families, but they are not mine so I don't want to post about them without permission :)

Anyway I hope you enjoyed the update on this!!! Someday I'll have real gameplay to share lol, but I'm having so much fun building the world up!

[fancyfade]

OK I'm done with Luke's run on Wonder Woman

Artemis being Cassie's mentor was such a perfect idea, it should always be acknowledged as something that happened u hear me dC?????

it was overall pretty enjoyable. I feel like Devastation is the best of his OCs, she works very well as a villain for Diana. She was forged by the old gods (Cronus and some other dudes) from the same clay that Diana was created from by her mother.

wonder woman #1

wonder woman #144

so we see Devastation kind of has powers that parallel Wonder Woman's very well, but for an inverse purpose which Diana would consider horrible. I think it makes them very good parallels, and we can see that Devastation also causes Diana to wonder about her own motives, if Devastation is created by her gods to kill the new gods, how can Diana be sure that she isn't just filling the will of her gods rather than what she wishes? which I think does make some sense with Diana's previous characterization, as early Diana in Perez's run wants to fulfill her destiny and prove herself and the Amazons to the gods, and refers to her stopping Ares as the day for which the gods granted her power (link)

I think she's also a good character for Wonder Woman to fight because we see Diana's character through it. As Diana questions her own agency in fighting for her gods and humanity, she also wants Devastation to have a choice, and through various Paradise Island Time Travel Shenanigans that were established in Byrne's run, goes back to the night Devastation was created and gives her a drop of her own blood, which is supposed to give her the option to choose.

However.

Devastation still chooses violence :P Which is another good parallel with Wonder Woman, because she also still chooses what she initially believes the gods destiny for her was. despite them each having the ability to choose, they do follow the godly footsteps that were laid before them as infants.

later on, we see Devastation takes advantage of Diana's kindness, because Devastation comes to Diana for help, saying Diana is the only one who could understand her, as they were both created by their own gods for a singular purpose, and uses this to get access to the Wonder Dome. anyway ugggg gthere could be so many interesting dynamics from these two if DC didn't FORGET THEM

ok anyway yes I liked most of the rest of luke's run as well, but that part is what is making me insane (complimentary) atm. his biggest weakness is the wonder woman superman shipping thing

[lorei-writes]

Hey, Lorei!! 💕

For Esther: 2, 30 and 41

For Viva: 18, 21 and 25

For you: B

Myara! Hi! Hi! Hello!

Let's go! >:)

OC ask game

Esther

2. How easy is it for your character to laugh?

I'd say it depends on the setting.

When in the palace, surrounded by nobles, Esther generally tries to remain composed under all circumstances. She feels that her laughing freely would break the decorum. However, once she's surrounded by commoners or people she's familiar with? It becomes a much easier task.

One thing that never fails to get her is dark humour.

30. Who do they most regret meeting? 

Her paternal aunt. Or, well, the majority of her extended family.

The thing is, Esther's mother has lost all her previous familial connection while fleeing from under Obsidianite reign. The only extended family Esther has comes from her father -- and none of them were thrilled about him being married to her mother. Everybody knew that the twins were not planned children. At the same time, none of them offered any help, not when they were little, and most definitely not after her parents divorced.

If that wasn't bad enough, they re-appeared post Viva's crowning. Viva would receive condolence letters filled with requests -- condolence letters as their entire extended family lives assuming that Esther is long dead.

41. How do they feel about children? 

It's a bit of a touchy subject for Esther. She likes children and does fairly well with them. She'd like to have some of her own... But it's not that easy.

Esther has experienced long periods of severe malnutrition. The most recent one occurred right before she arrived at the palace. Recovery takes time, obviously. On top of that, Esther doesn't know whether any lasting damage hasn't already been done.

She's in her late twenties when she and Chevalier become an item. For various reasons, they cannot rush getting married, but time is still of the essence. (...I may have a skeleton of a plot line on the topic.)

Viva

18. What embarrasses them?

Hmm... Maybe not so much embarrasses her, but gets her flustered?

Being on the receiving end of affection while in private. She can put up a front while other people are around, if it's just her and her lover? There's nothing there to help her remain composed.

She's used to rough affection, to banter, play fights and other such things. Kindness, however? Gentleness and soft words? Not so much. The more tender people are towards her, the faster she crumbles.

21. Why do they get up in the morning? 

I'd say she has a dual reason for it.

Viva has a strong sense of duty. She wakes up in the morning to provide for her loved ones. To protect them. To be the rock that others need. To do what she thinks should be done, as otherwise it'd be hard for her to look into the mirror.

However, it is also that... she sees a lot of wonder in the world? And she's hungry for it. She's deeply in love with a lot of the mundane, so it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say she wakes up to taste fresh bread, or to play with stray dogs. In fact, I'd say that that is what enables her to carry on despite her self-imposed duties.

25. What are their thoughts on marriage? 

Another idea that gets her flustered. She's hopeless ( and helpless).

Viva's personal outlook on marriage is somewhat romanticised. She knows it is often used as means of obtaining influence or material privileges, but she could never see herself take part in it for that purpose.

What she'd rather aim for would be devotion. She wants love that is a continuous conscious choice, even in presence of hardships. She wants to grow together with her lover, to age with him, to support him, respect him, and to receive the same in turn. I suppose you could say that in her mind, marriage is an announcement of that sort of intention.

General

B) What inspired you to create them?

It was a convergence of a couple of factors.

I finished Leon's route and loved it. (Still one of my favourites). I thought it'd be interesting if his backstory was used in a different way.

I concluded that the Belle system hinges on subjective judgement, and thought it'd be interesting to see what may happen if the person chosen for the role was not so pure.

It was a very "what if" kind of situation. What if the Belle was not so pure. What if she knew the truth of Leon's identity. What would need to happen for her to come across as a person who does have a point. What if she had reasons for her revenge. How do I glue it together. What motivating forces could I employ at all sides. + I had this one dialogue line that was burning my mind.

I talked about the skeleton of the idea with @venulus and she pointed out that it would be possible for the other twin to be paired with Chevalier (my new obsession at the time). Pieces started falling into place after that.

[the-goblin-cat]

hog from left field, but,

CASPER

Casper, my sweet little pumpkin boy imp from the ISEKAI! ttrpg campaign

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

It's fully just a reference to Casper the friendly ghost, cause I originally envisioned him as pale blue

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

Casper is currently 13

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

I jokingly ship him with an extremely minor npc simply called Tenturik Girl. Tenturiks are bearcat-like beasts that fill the same role as dogs in Areatam, the game's setting. However, some of them can grow to massive size. A random human girl around Casper's age joined in a race riding on one such creature.

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

pizza, but especially the concoction the party members invented by cooking flatbread dough on the coals with various herbs and toppings.

💼 - What do they do for a living?

He is a destined hero and a kid, so on the spectrum between "unemployed" and "mercenary".

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

Casper loves games, both video games and physical board and card games. His particular favorite is a game played with cards and figures called Knights of the Spiral.

🎯 -What do they do best?

He's great at picking up new forms of magic and has the highest number of elemental spells of the group, though his physical abilities are lacking as a result.

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

He loves the aforementioned games, and learning new things. He hates being sad or thinking about home.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

Going to Navy Pier with his older cousin Kay and friend Xochitl. At the time Kay and Xochitl were dating and it was all very happy.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

The day his mother died, though subsequently trying to run away from home and getting caught in the rain was very close.

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

As mentioned before, I originally wanted him to be blue. He also originally had glasses. I love his current design tho

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

I wanted to create a delightful childish character to foist on the other players, as an homage to @fvriva's Ellie character.

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

They were made for Isekai babey

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

cishet probably.

🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have?

no true siblings, though he and Kay have grown to see each other s such.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

Casper loved them both very much. However, after his mother's death, his relationship with his father became strained, as the grief left him unable to properly care for his son. Eventually Casper's father checked himself into a facility and sent him to live with his mother's side of the family. Csper's aunt and uncle certainly provide adequate care physically and financially, but have a strained marriage themselves and can't provide emotionally for neither Casper nor Kay.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

In addition to his adorable design I like how the dice tends to fall in his favor. The world is awed by the feats of this very strong little boy

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

the game is play by post and moves at a leisurely pace so a few times a week on average.

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

absolutely not

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

being abandoned

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

None so far, though he and His Holiness the Patriarch Puranmas has a heated debate over whether Shrek was anime

🎓 - How long have you had the OC?

Conceptualized bout two years ago, though the game began last year

[nevesmose]

So the last time I posted anything was way back in 2016 when I had just moved to England and was working in a shitty hotel. Finally after ten thousand years I'm back, and in the intervening time I, in vaguely chronological order:

Had various celebrity encounters (details available on request)

Got married

Moved to a new city

Worked in a different shitty hotel

Worked in a shitty call centre

Joined one of the Big 4, iykyk

Had a kid

Moved back to Scotland

Got diagnosed with autism

Had another kid

And now after all that character development I've come back to a Tumblr account untouched for almost a decade and a screen name I first came up with almost two decades ago. Christ I'm old.

Why?

Let's slam on the auld accelerator all the way back to summer 2006. I was a complete antisocial nerd and not in the cutely engaging likeable way but in the cold, creepy hate-filled way. The undiagnosed autism probably had a lot to do with it tbh.

My only social contact was as a cringy hanger-on to my friends' band, and when I say friends I mean people who we had no choice but to be around each other in class. It's like going to sea in olden times, or having a cellmate with a pretty enough mouth. You make do, but it doesn't have any deeper meaning or connection.

One weekend they promised everyone that they'd be getting played on the radio. A small local station that no longer exists, practically hand-cranked. So me and various others tuned in and waited for hours to hear them. Did they rock the rural Scottish airwaves all the way from Lochaber to Fochabers, Invergordon to Inverbervie, Pitlochry to Pitmedden?

No, no they didn't. The mid-2000s were sadly denied their ten millionth landfill indie band and life went on. I never found out why and I didn't really care because my thought at that moment was just - fuck this, I want to do something for myself.

Another thing about me at that time was that I was a huge Metal Gear Solid fan - still am in a lot of ways. I played the heck out of MGS3 and liked The Sorrow so much that I habitually wore a commando sweater because I thought they were cool.

Reading that back it sounds like the start of a particularly gross Shrek is Love, Shrek is Life parody but I swear it's true. In any case, I had found a bunch of MGS3 fanart and such on Deviantart but was too paranoid and anxious to actually create an account.

Up until that day, anyway. I wanted to do something for myself so I took the plunge and did it. Met a lot of really great people and had some wonderful times over the following 10ish years. It was nice, in the most meaningful way, to make my own little identity for myself when I didn't have anything else going on that really mattered to me as a person. Also I wrote a lot of edgy Dark Eldar fanfiction.

Of course, life went on and I ended up drifting away on the tide of gradually building up other things in my life, even in my own slow way. Which brings us to now.

It's pretty pleasant, in a nostalgic way, to revisit the online footprint of the person I was then and to look at his antics with a little more, dare I say it, maturity and self-awareness than I had at the time. But I'd be lying if I didn't say it's also pleasant to recapture a little of how it felt to be that person whose responsibilities extended only as far as creating OCs and adding the right amount of XD, x3 and ^_^ emotes to every comment.

What a dork. But it was fun to be that dork.

[alj4890]

Day 7: Contentment

Choices Red Carpet Diaries Appreciation Week 2022

(Thomas Hunt x OC) in a Choices Red Carpet Diaries Drabble

Prompt: "Don't be silly. New year, new you." "I don't want a new me. I want the same me and the same you."

A/N: Our last day and I had to end it with my favorite love interest 🥲 Can't believe it is already over. Hope you all have enjoyed this week of RCD. I know we had a lot of fun with it 🥰 This drabble takes place three years after Premiere Date.

Rating: G for nothing but fluff to end this week on.

@my-heart-beats-for-ya ​ @krsnlove @aworldoffandoms ​​ @flyawayboo ​​ @trappedinfanfiction ​​  @sophxwithers @twinkleallnight @hopelessromantic1352 @tessa-liam @choicesrcd2022 @promptnonny

Masterlist

It's Unavoidable

Inverness, Scotland...

All was quiet in Lonsdale Castle. The only sounds were of warm, cheery fires crackling in both the sitting room and in the lord and lady of the manor's bedroom to help ward off the chill the castle was known for in the winter. There was also the occasional chuckle and softly spoken conversations of the two who called this place home for parts of the year.

The servants were given the days off from Christmas until well after New Year's. No guests were there to make unnecessary noise or interrupt stolen kisses. No one at all to disturb the couple who wanted nothing more than to be alone with each other.

Thomas had been pleasantly surprised when his wife, Amanda, suggested they spend the holidays shut away in their Highland castle. They usually were surrounded by their friends and loved ones in either their home near Hollywood or at their duchy in Cordonia.

But up here at Lonsdale, as she pointed out, no one would come around and disturb them. The cold, damp trek alone would discourage even the most devoted friend. It was a perfect place to say goodbye to another happy year together and look forward to a new one filled with endless possibilities.

Thomas wasn't about to try and dissuade her out of such a notion. There was nothing more that he loved than a quiet night in with Amanda. Giving him weeks of such was just what he needed before he began to tackle once more the life of a renowned director and newly turned noble of various titles.

After two years of marriage, he thought that they'd successfully found a way to balance all his new responsibilities while allowing him to continue to do what he loved: filmmaking.

Everything so far had been more than he could have possibly imagined. He was content in this life that Amanda helped him create. He couldn't think of anything he wanted or needed that could even add to his happiness.

Especially in this moment with her cuddled within his arms.

A blanket, done in her ancestor's plaid, was draped over them as they paid only half attention to 1941's, Meet John Doe. A tray with various snacks and empty plates from dinner cluttered the coffee table. The only lights to see by were from the black and white film, the Christmas tree lights, and the fire's orange glow.

Thomas glanced down. A soft smile formed at the sight of his wife. The warmth of his body combined with the atmosphere had lulled her into a peaceful sleep.

Plus, the fact he'd made love to her earlier might have something to do with her exhaustion.

He gently brushed her hair off her face then pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She stirred. A yawn slipped from her lips as she stretched.

Amanda blinked up at him.

"I'm sorry." She sat up, rubbing her eyes. "I must have dozed off."

"I don't mind." Thomas tugged her back within his arms.

She chuckled while placing a tender kiss upon his lips.

"You deserve a better date for New Year's, Lord Hunt."

He snorted. "Such a thing doesn't exist."

"You're being awfully romantic towards a woman who couldn't stay awake long enough for a midnight kiss." She teased.

"That's because I know I have plenty of time to collect that kiss." His lips met hers again in a more heated caress. "With interest."

Her laughter brought a smile to his face.

"What time is it?" She asked.

"About eleven thirty."

Amanda pushed herself off of him.

"Where are you off to?"

"To the kitchen." She began to collect some of their empty plates.

Thomas got to his feet to help.

"Don't get up." She waved him back down. "I can take care of this."

He ignored her argument, taking the majority of dishes out of her hands.

"Thomas." Amanda groaned as she followed him down the hall. "I was going to take care of those. I want you to continue to relax and enjoy your evening."

"I've been relaxing since we arrived." He reminded her. "And I enjoy my evenings with you."

"Just the evenings?" She teased once they were in the kitchen.

His lips curved somewhat as he rinsed the dishes.

"I didn't say that."

She shook her head over his words.

"I'll put those in the dishwasher."

Thomas took over the task instead.

Amanda folded her arms. "I think your resolution for the New Year should be to listen to your wife when she is trying to make a night special for you."

He eyed her. "Resolution?" He snorted. "I don't make resolutions."

"You don't?" Amanda's brow furrowed as she thought back to their previous New Year's together. "Oh my goodness, you really don't make them!"

His eyebrow lifted. "Why are you so shocked by that?"

"Because everyone makes them!" She pointed out.

"Clearly not everyone if I do not." He drily remarked.

"But why?" Amanda sat down on a barstool to try and figure this out. "Why don't you? Don't you want to change anything?"

His frown formed. "Is this your roundabout way of saying I need to change something?"

"Of course not! You know I love everything about you." She huffed. "I'm simply curious as to how you came to this decision."

His frown eased upon hearing that.

"I see no reason to go through the silliness of trying to find something to work on if I am completely content."

"Oh." She replied.

"It always struck me as absurd that a person waits until the end of the year to decide to improve something about themselves. Whether it is a change in their personal or in their professional life, why wait to begin making that necessary change? What has the new year coming about have to do with any of it?"

Amanda merely studied him.

Thomas met her stare with a quizzical glance.

"I suppose that makes sense." She grumbled.

He went back to finishing the dishes.

She got to her feet to prepare two glasses of a hot cranberry and orange punch she'd made earlier.

"Shall I chill some champagne for us?" Thomas came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"No, thank you." She kissed his cheek. "I think I'm in the mood to toast the new year with this punch instead of champagne."

He took the tray from her and followed her back into the den.

"Seems a bit out of tradition to toast without champagne."

Amanda shrugged. "I suppose I want it to represent a new tradition." She tugged him back down on the couch with her. "And hopefully reflect on a new me."

"A new you?"

She nodded, settling more comfortably against his side.

"Just because the clock strikes midnight, that doesn't mean you are changed." He told her.

She tilted her head up to study his profile. She could tell by the tense set of his jaw that he was struggling with not becoming irritated with her.

She did have a point she was trying to make. She just wasn't ready to do so yet.

"Don't be silly." She quipped. "New year, new you."

Thomas turned towards her.

"I don't want a new me. I want the same me and the same you."

Her smile over hearing that made his temper begin to cool down.

"You really wouldn't change anything about me?" She asked.

"Not one thing." He bit out.

The irritation in his voice made her all the happier. She knew with how angry he was over the suggestion that she change that he must still truly love everything about her.

She slipped her arms around his waist while placing her head on his shoulder. She let out a soft sigh over how incredibly sweet he could be when grumpy.

"I love you, Thomas."

His arm held her snugly against his side. He lifted his hand to caress her cheek.

His earlier smile returned.

"I love you too."

Amanda glanced at the mantle clock, seeing that it was nearly time to greet the New Year and all the changes that awaited them.

"Thomas?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm afraid I am going to change next year."

"Amanda." He muttered, shaking his head. "I believe I just stated how I don't want that to happen."

"I can't stop it." She eased back some so she could look up at him.

"You most certainly can stop it." He argued. "You--"

"You're going to change too."

His eyes narrowed.

Her tender smile puzzled him.

"You see," she handed him a sonogram, "you and I are going to change into parents, " the clock began to chime the midnight hour, "this summer."

[stephaniedola]

FUCK im late anyway also for file my beloved: alone bound ;) hate skin

I LOVE U i knew youd give me the good good

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

oooh this is a good one.... SHAPEFILE grew up in a lab surrounded by scientists constantly observing him, and although he doesnt remember much about it, he definitely has an ingrained sense of feeling weird on his own. i think he probably finds being alone and undistracted very perturbing. if hes alone, hes probably doing GIS stuff and/or homework.

otherwise i feel like they fill their life with various odd characters to amuse them and keep them from feeling lonely. not that they'd admit that, and not that it would show based on how they treat people

really, when FILEs alone i feel like FILE just goes full autism mode. stim city. maybe those untapped traumas memories from FILEs childhood start to seep in... who knows

bound: Has your OC ever been imprisoned or captured? What happened? How did they get out? Did the experience leave any scars?

FILE was pretty much kept imprisoned for the first 13 years of his life, which, again, he does not remember but still has lingering emotional scars from. as for what happened, he has no way of knowing, but hes fairly certain it was bad. part of why he doesn't think too deeply about his issues and hates being alone with his thoughts is because of the weird triggers and fetishes he has that he can't place the origin of. its just NULL data. he does have scars, all over his body, but he was told they were all part of the process of creating him. frankenstein lookin ass.

they only got out by waking up age 13 (so they're told) with no memories, being told who they were (supposed to be?) and being assigned an adoptive family.

hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?

the funnier and less twisted answer to this question is open source software. they fight constantly with Quin, the local naturalist dyke, who insists that Esri software (again, FILE believes they were literally created to shill this stuff) sucks and that proprietary software shouldnt exist. also, they hatefuck

as for the real answer, it's FILEs second thesis advisor (dont worry about what happened to the first one) Dr. Tan, who has taken an unfortunate liking to FILE, with whom FILE has a deeply questionable relationship FILE has very weird feelings about. FILE knows their dynamic is abusive but FILE feels like FILE brings it upon FILEself by being, on some level, into it.

when Tan's around in public, FILE gets very closed off and defensive, trying to put distance between them. in private, the facade fades quickly and FILE finds themself feeling painfully reliant on the affection and affirmation from the person they hate the most

skin: How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themself? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?

ahhhh yes, the kicker to everything above. SHAPEFILE is so uncomfortable in their own skin it hurts. as has been the theme of these answers, they are in no way prepared to face the reality inside themself. what might that reality be? i think FILE's nightmare scenario would be to find out there was another path for him all along. that he doesnt need to be a machine to be a man, that he doesnt need to be a man to be a machine

thats part of why FILE hates Tan so much. tan acknowledges this potential, but also takes advantage of it. this all contributes to FILEs weird feelings about the already weird situation

accepting that they can be someone other than the person [ERROR: Data type 'person' not specified] ??? they were prescribed to be is the one thing they need the most to self-actualize, but SHAPEFILE is so far removed from the self. SHAPEFILE is just points, lines, and polygons. SHAPEFILE is just space.

but if he acknowledges it, he acknowledges that there's nothing special about him.

Geoffrey Isaiah Shapiro is just taking up space.

[boredtechnologist]

Electronic Art's "Deluxe Paint II" for the Amiga computer

Introduced in 1985 by Electronic Arts, Deluxe Paint (often referred to as DPaint) became one of the most influential graphics editing programs of its time, particularly with its later iteration, Deluxe Paint II, released in 1987. Designed for the Commodore Amiga, a computer known for its advanced multimedia capabilities, Deluxe Paint II not only showcased the Amiga's graphical prowess but also set a standard for bitmap graphics editing that would influence software design for years to come.

Technological and Historical Context

The Amiga computer was ahead of its time, boasting features such as a pre-emptive multitasking operating system and dedicated graphics and sound co-processors. These features made it an ideal platform for graphic design and animation, a niche that Deluxe Paint II aimed to fill. The program was developed by Dan Silva, who initially created it as a simple image manipulation program to help with his own software development tasks at Electronic Arts.

Capabilities and Innovations

Deluxe Paint II introduced a variety of features that were revolutionary for the time:

User Interface (UI): Deluxe Paint II featured a highly intuitive user interface that was accessible to both beginners and professional artists. Its menu and toolbox were thoughtfully designed to facilitate easy access to its wide array of tools, which was a departure from the more cumbersome interfaces common in software of the era.

Graphics Techniques: The program supported up to 32 colors from a palette of 4096 (on the OCS chipset), a significant capability given the hardware limitations of the time. This allowed for the creation of rich, vibrant images that were particularly suited for the burgeoning video game and multimedia industries.

Animation Features: Perhaps one of the most significant innovations of Deluxe Paint II was its animation features. The software allowed users to create and edit frame-by-frame animations, which was an invaluable tool for game developers and animators. This feature was complemented by the ability to preview animations, adjust playback speed, and loop sequences, all within the program.

Advanced Tools: Deluxe Paint II included various advanced drawing and painting tools, such as custom brushes, fill patterns, and gradient fills. Users could also manipulate images with tools for flipping, rotating, and scaling, and it provided powerful effects like "smear" and "shade" modes that added depth to graphic design projects.

Impact on the Industry

Deluxe Paint II's influence extended far beyond the Amiga community. It became a standard tool in video game development during the late 1980s and early 1990s. Many graphic artists and game developers created sprites, backgrounds, and other game assets using Deluxe Paint II, appreciating its ease of use and powerful features. The software's ability to handle detailed pixel art made it particularly popular among developers of 2D games.

Moreover, Deluxe Paint II was used in professional video production, especially in titling and special effects work. Its ability to export graphics in formats that were compatible with other systems helped bridge the gap between Amiga and more dominant platforms like the PC and Macintosh.

Legacy

Deluxe Paint II left a lasting legacy in the world of graphic design software. It influenced the development of future graphic software, particularly in terms of user interface design and the integration of animation tools. Programs like Adobe Photoshop and Corel Paint Shop owe some of their intuitive design elements and functionality to the groundwork laid by Deluxe Paint II.

Conclusion

Deluxe Paint II was more than just software; it was a pivotal moment in computer graphics history. It helped democratize graphic design by providing powerful tools in an accessible manner at a time when such technology was just emerging. For many artists and developers, Deluxe Paint II was the gateway into digital arts, marking it as a cornerstone in both the history of the Amiga and multimedia development.

[lunaticobscurity]

some basic oc descriptions

king beetle: he's an immortal cosmic being who travels the omniverse in search of strong opponents to fight

marmanousa: a huge, super-strong amazon who loves to fight and eat monsters. somehow gets caught up in king beetle's omniverse-traversing shenanigens a lot

electrostansia: a wrestling android created by the soviet union to demonstrate communist superiority in both technology and sports. she mostly just participates in wrestling and other combat sports, but was also instrumental in the liberation of the former united kingdom

amelia lahane/barnfield: the illegitimate daughter of the silent movie actress cleopatra lahane and the private detective ralph barnfield. after her dad died, she took the opportunity to take his name and inherit his office, to escape the boring life of a rich girl in 1920s california. she ended up getting involved in protecting humanity and the earth from the great old ones. later in life, she founded the barnfield foundation to continue this work after her death.

isaiah torrance: a non-binary teen who ran away from home, only to get murdered and ressurected as a vampire. mostly amoral and cowardly, they use their good looks to manipulate people, but they're still secretly a scared kid deep down inside.

odsetseg: an adventurer from a tribe that lives high up in a remote mountain range. as other cultures were building the first ocean-faring ships in the age of discovery, odsetseg's tribe were building balloons filled with a mysterious lighter-than-air gas that comes from a certain vent in the mountain range. she travels the world in a balloon, looking for adventure and generally trying to do good and fight evil.

pharoah xiii: an alchemist from ancient egypt who harnessed the power of monstertronic particles (or "monstertrons") to greatly extend his lifespan. aspires to become a true immortal, like king beetle, and also sometimes attempts to take over the earth

the retromancer: an immortal who will be born at the end of time, and age backwards until he dies of extreme old age at the beginning. i can't remember what the point of him is lol

abilasha liyanarachi: currently a shadar-kai who was left behind on her first raid of the material plane as a kid, and then spent a few years making a living as a street urchin pickpocket, but later became an adventurer who fights evil. at some point, the parts of her story that are copyrights of wizards of the coast will be excised and replaced with something else.

laurence francios-dumont: a zoology professor who went on a long, worldwide series of expeditions after an affair with an assistant who also happened to be the daughter of a wealthy university donor and newspaper owner. during his travels, he encountered the dinosaur-like monster mokele-mbembe and came into conflict with various cults worshipping the great old ones

there's more but i've been typing for like half an hour now

[skvaderarts]

Devil May Cry OC Week Day 1!

Happy first day of @dmc-oc-week! I’m so excited for this!

So I hope this isn’t too annoying, but a lot of the stuff about my OC relates to the 120 Post DMC5 Nero and V as brothers fic that I’ve been writing for the last year (Help I can’t stop), so I have yet to reveal a lot of the stuff about him. I seriously hope that at least one of you likes him, though! The artwork is by the always amazing @gaaebolg​, and I’ll have more sometime in the future, so stay tuned!

Also, I’m sorry for how long this post is. I’ve been creating things for this OC for the better part of two years now, so I’ve just got a lot of pent up excitement to get through. If at least one of you like him, then it’s a success!

Now then... SIRRUS

General Information:

Name: Sirrus (sear-us not Cyrus)

Age: Nope. He’s not saying. How rude of you to ask! Looks 21-25 though.

Eyes: Very light gray

Height: 6″ 5′

Build: Thin. He basically never eats anything. But he likes to cook (mostly for V and Nero) and he drinks sometime. And it’s normally wine. he doesn’t eat his own cooking, though. Everyone is freaked out by this.

Species: That’s tricky. Very tricky. He’s technically three different things at once due to his complicated parental lineage, and it causes him nothing but suffering. I may reveal what he truly is later this week if people actually care that he exists barely concealed intense crying. As a result of this, he had one hell of a power set, although many of his powers clash in a sort of MHA Todoroki sort of way. He’s not very pleased by this. The power is great and all, but it literally gives him a miserable migraine sometimes.

Personality: Sardonic, sarcastic, linguistically unapproachable at times due to his tendency to be very formal in an old fashioned, bitingly straight to the point, occasionally cripplingly brooding, and internally melodramatic. His entire internal monologue is just him chastising himself for every breath that he takes or him thinking he’s a total badass. He has no in-between. If left alone, he won’t make it off the couch due to a healthy dose of self-loathing. Thankfully he can’t become drunk. But he still tries. Think Tom Cruse Lestat meets Dorian Grey meets Alucard from the Castlevania Netflix anime. He likes to make dry, deadpan jokes, but he also knows how to read the room. He’s been around long enough to have developed that skill. But despite his desire to be left alone and work in isolation, he finds himself around the crew more than he might like to understand. He tries to be supportive to those around him, though he’s fully self aware of the fact that he’s not that great with it.

Preferences: Dark rooms, good food, better wine, even better conversations, and fantastically showboat filled fights. And not so subtly spoiling V with unsolicited but much appreciated gifts and luxuries.

Dislikes: Mostly his father and bullshit in general. Which is a large reason he doesn't like his father. Also, people who abuse others or power for self gain. So again, his father. I’m noticing a reoccurring theme here. It’s his mom’s fault, too.

Relationships: He knows the cast due to being sent to investigate the events of the fic I was writing, and from there he hangs around and offers to help in any way that he can. He’s on good terms with basically everyone, but later becomes very friendly with V and they have a frankly adorable relationship that I’m 10000% sure he wishes were more than just a friendship but he’s just too shy and sure he’d be rejected to ask. He and various members of the cast have some fun banter with one another, though, and he’s more or less free to come and go as he wishes. He also may or may have not gotten V slightly drunk off of blood wine once. It’s complicated.

Abilities: Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy. Just kidding. in addition to the standard things like quick movement, increased durability and stamina, and some other things I’ve yet to reveal, Sirrus has a vaguely explained light ability that forces a lot of very powerful demons to recoil at the sight of it. He can also wield fire, but in a localized state, and the more he allows it to spread, the harder it is to control. The more localized and small the fire area is, the hotter he can make it burn, all the way up to white flame is he absolutely needs to. It’s very draining, however, as the usage of such power is in direct conflict with what he is. Far too much light for his tastes. But, at the very same time he, the other portion of what he is makes the light within him stronger. He’s a living contradiction, and yes, he totally hates it.

Weapon: He possesses a swept hilt rapier called “Kilnsbane” forged from a combination of Damascus Steel and meteorite. It earned it’s name for it’s ability to be coated in intense heat as a veiacle for his powers (it’s easier to control that way) and from the shards of dust that speckle the blade. The blade is slightly longer than average, reaching about a meter in length. It’s also sharp on both edges of the blade like a razor. It’s not as sharp as something like Yamato, but it’s exceptionally durable, kinda like the difference between Vibranium and Adamantium. Nico is going to have a field day with that.

Interesting fact: Due to two divorces on the part of his father, he is technically part of two powerful families. One by blood, and the other as a sort of honorary son after he sided with them over an important domestic dispute against his father’s wishes. if you’d like to know more, let me know!

Notes: I’d tell you more, but so many things about him are showed in mystery by nature, so if I tell you (yet) what some of these details are, I’ll spoil the surprises. And also, if your reading my fics, I don’t want to spoil anything about his roll in the story by telling you entirely who and what he is. His last name is actually a spoiler in of it’s self, so you can’t know it just yet!

So... what do you think?! I would so love for someone, ANYONE to give me feedback or just ask me more about him! It would be so exciting to see someone on Tumblr go down that road with me :D thanks for reading this! I look forward to tomorrow!

[the-dimitrescu-seamstress]

I Won’t Be Long - A rather long one shot

(I have been working on this, what I call “Magda’s Worst Day”, for a while, and I only recently was inspired to finish it. Hence why I’ve been rather quiet in terms of posts. I can only torture my muse so much.

Basically, this story came about because of the “What have you done to my daughter?!” line. Alcina was in her chambers while saying that, therefore unable to see or know that Ethan was outside. So how did she know what happened to Bela, and who told her? 

My answer? Magda.

I did my best to follow the game’s timeline, but there might have been some condensing or stretching in order to make things fit. I’ve also included some brief cameos from other OCs Magda has interacted with. 

Please note, this is not an “Ethan Hate” story. Magda is simply reacting as one would in their given situation. Is this a sad story? Yes, in parts. Will you hate me for writing this? Maybe. Will you still enjoy reading it? I hope so.)

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“You must hide. The man is a danger, and I wish for you to be safe. Do your best to keep out of all this. If he approaches you, play the helpless victim. Do not help him, but please do not hinder him either.”

“But I want you to stay safe.”

“You know that I always do, dearest. He is nothing but a man.”

“You literally just said he was a danger.” The press of Bela’s lips against Magda’s was enough the hush the smaller woman and soften her demeanor. “Kissing me in order to maintain the last word is technically cheating, you know.”

“True, but I did learn it from you,” the witch smiled. “I won’t be long.”

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

That conversation happened a little over an hour ago. Since then, Magda had quietly paced the floor of her workroom, occasionally stopping to listen for any sound outside her door. She prayed she’d hear the familiar drone of flies, but nothing came. Everything was unnervingly quiet. Magda did her best to reassure herself. She kept telling herself that the man was outnumbered three to one, that the girls would work together and remove him as a threat, that they couldn’t be killed.

The sudden barrage of nearby gunfire and shattering glass ripped away any comfort she had tried to retain. It wasn’t terribly close, but then again it wasn’t terribly far either. Worse yet, there was no celebratory laughter that accompanied the silence that soon followed. Worry gnawed at Magda’s insides, and she did the one thing that Bela had asked her not to do. She unlocked the door to her workshop, and left her hiding place.

Magda went through the halls in sock feet, wanting to make as little sound as possible. The last thing she needed was to run into the man by accident. Thankfully, the courtyard was deserted. Freezing, especially without shoes or a coat, but it was empty. Even better, the door leading to the dining room was still locked. That meant the intruder had not found a key or harassed one of the few servants who had a skeleton key to the various entryways. Magda was one of those servants. Being a seamstress, and a trusted one at that, gave her a few perks.

As much as she wanted to rush in, Magda knew better. She turned the key slowly, as the locks were heavy and made a distinct and rather loud click when undone. The door she also took time opening, just in case there was an armed madman standing on the other side. Finding none, she closed and relocked the door behind her. Best to keep him confined.

Cassandra’s laughter coming from the Main Hall signaled that she was keeping the intruder well occupied and, rather than risk an interruption, Magda turned to the much plainer door which lead to the kitchen.

Normally the kitchen was a warm place, full of the sounds and smells of cooking food for the human staff, but the rush of cold air that blew in as she entered confirmed a fear she had. Hurrying past the preparation table and ducking under the cuts of drying meat, Magda stopped short in the doorway to the connected storage room. What she saw squeezed her heart like a vice, making it difficult to breath.

Shattered glass and the remains of broken boards framed a large, collapsed pile of frozen flies. The room wavered and suddenly felt hot, despite the open windows. Maybe… maybe this wasn’t Bela, she tried to reason. It wasn’t Cassandra, as she had heard her laughter not moments ago. A small, hateful voice in her head whispered that this was Daniela, that Bela was still alive inside the castle, perhaps happily carving up the man with her sister, and what laid before her was Daniela. Magda hated to even think that, but right now she was mental begging the powers that be for that to be the truth.

Step by hesitant step, she approached the pile, acting as a windbreak when she knelt between it and the broken window. Tears began to cloud her vision as she saw pale yellow flies mixed in amongst the brown and black insects. Again, her heart wrenched inside her chest. Her skin burned and the walls of the room closed in as her anger grew and burst forth in a ragged scream of rage, sorrow, and anguish.

Why?! Why did he do this?! How did he even know?! Did he just get lucky with a stray bullet breaking a pane of glass? Why did he kill her? Why did he go after her? The cold would have been enough to stop her! She would have stopped the chase, and he could have gotten away, but he still decided to kill her! He killed her while she was hurting! He killed her while she was cold, alone, and separated from everyone. He killed Magda’s stea mică… her little star…

He didn’t give a shit about anything or anyone.

Magda’s guttural scream was echoed by a rasping, undead one crawling up from the once boarded up passageway that led to the dungeon. In her emotional state, she hadn’t put two and two together. The boards were smashed going into the storage room rather than out into the passageway. The man had come up from below, meaning he had created a potential access point for the thralls to get upstairs.

“Căcat!” she cursed, scrambling as quickly and as quietly for a container in the other room. It would take the thralls a bit of time to coordinate and stumble their way up the stairs, but they would eventually make it and Magda was not about to let those disgusting things trample all over what was left of Bela.

She would also need to tell the Countess.

Grabbing one of the large basins used to hold drained blood, as well as any discarded towels or cloth she could find, Magda carefully moved every single fly she found into the container, scouring the floor for any the wind may have blown about, but always keeping a careful eye on the dungeon passage. The last thing she needed was to be attacked by those damn thralls as she finished.

The basin was… not as heavy as she thought it would be. That knowledge made her stomach sink and made her feel that much worse. She was carrying her love’s body, and it wasn’t heavy. It needed to be. The woman was seven feet tall! It should have been heavier! These stupid, unimportant thoughts made her tears start to once again fall as she returned to the dining room. “Dammit. I’m sorry, Bela,” she mumbled as a few hot tears fell on the flies.

One twitched in response.

Magda stopped at that. She was seeing things. In her grief, her mind was clearly playing tricks on her. Bela was dead. The cold killed flies. She was dead and the tear hitting the fly only made it look like it moved.

That was when the worst feeling in all of creation latched itself onto her.

Hope.

Leaning in close, she breathed a few times on a small clump of flies, letting her warm breath roll over them. And then she waited… Her heart pounding in her chest as she watched for something. Anything.

…A leg spasmed.

It was small, almost imperceptible, but Magda took it as a sign. A possibility. A tiny one at that, but she grabbed onto it and refused to let it go. Hope was evil like that.

Covering the basin to shield the flies from the cold, she ventured back across the courtyard and towards Alcina’s chambers, locking any and all doors behind her because fuck this man and his doings. Make his shit life harder.

The Countess’ chambers were empty, which sent a chill of dread and terror down Magda’s spine. Had she fallen to the man as well or was she simply hunting him along with her daughters? Should she wait for her to appear? Right now, searching the castle was not the ideal thing to do, as she was unarmed, human, and she had no idea if the intruder would have mercy on her if she encountered him. Thankfully, her questions were answered as familiar heavy footfalls were heard coming up the stairs. Now all she had to do was explain to Alcina what she thought was possible. And hopefully not die in the the telling.

“If I can’t, I’ll do my best to bleed on you as I die, sweetness,” she told the basin of flies, trying to make a joke and do her best to smile. The latter crumbled as soon as the chamber door opened.

“Countess?” Magda’s voice was weak and shaky, full of fear, and she immediately regretted opening her mouth due to the look on Alcina’s face. It was one of surprise mixed with displeasure, which made sense as Magda should still be locked in her sewing room, not running around as she was currently doing.

“Are you not aware of our current situation, Magdalena?” Her tone was cool and reserved, as if she were waiting on Magda’s answer in order to decide the best manner of action to take.

“I am very much aware of the situation, Countess. Which was why I came here as quickly as I could.” she replied, uncovering Bela’s remains. The candelabra the taller woman had been holding streaked towards Magda’s head and the seamstress barely had time to duck.

“What have you done to my daughter?!” she roared, lunging forward and grabbing Magda by her neck. For a moment, fear and terror filled the seamstress’ mind, but she somehow managed to find her voice despite the vice-like grip upon her throat.

“It wasn’t me… the man… did this… the flies… not… not dead…” Darkness had started to creep around the edges of her vision before Alcina finally released her. Landing on the ground hurt, but the deep breath of fresh air she took afterwards was incredibly sweet.

“Explain yourself,” Alcina growled, stretching out those two words in a low and menacing fashion, one not at all suitable for a woman of her standing, but perfect for a mother seeking justice for her child.

“I heard the fight,” Magda rasped, throat still sore. “It was in… the kitchen. I found… Bela. I thought she was dead… but some flies reacted to my tears…. and warm breath. There’s a chance. That cold state they go into. She told me about it. Bela might not be dead. Only hibernating. If she can be warmed, maybe she can be saved.” Magda watched Alcina, eyes never turning away or blinking too rapidly. She didn’t want to give the woman any excuse or reason not to believe her.

The quiet between them lasted for what seemed an eternity, only to be interrupted by a low rumbling and draining of liquid coming from the next room over. They both heard it, though Alcina only gave the most subtle of glances in its direction. The pool in the Hall of Ablution had been emptied. The Countess’ iron grip was suddenly around Magda’s arm, pulling her back to her feet.

“You will take my daughter back to your workshop and you will keep her warm,” she hissed. “You will not leave her side, not even for a moment. Should I find you disobeying my instructions and wandering these halls while that impudent wretch is still in my castle, your life is forfeit. Is that understood?” Magda nodded, fear in her eyes. She picked up the basin, replacing the cover before being roughly escorted out of the chamber.

Once safely back in her workshop, Magda set about gathering her thickest fabrics; the wools, flannels, gabardines, and anything else heavy she had. She removed the blankets and comforter from her bed and did what she could to form a nest or bed for the flies. For a moment, she even considered cutting her forearm and dribbling some blood onto them, but if they weren’t moving then they weren’t feeding, and the last thing she wanted to risk was them somehow drowning in her own blood.

Magda did her best to obey the Countess’ instructions, as she was not about to risk Alcina’s wrath, not with her life on the line. However, if she did end up being wrong about Bela, maybe it would be better to join her in death. What was she thinking? Magda likely would die anyways. But, in terms of when, it would just depend on Alcina’s mood. So, the seamstress sat in silence, waiting and praying to hear the soft buzzing of fly wings as they slowly warmed up.

Instead, she heard someone faintly plinking the keys of the piano in the Opera Hall. Rather badly at that. Naturally, the all too familiar footfalls of an enraged Alcina soon followed. He must not have realized she was hunting him, Magda thought. Because what idiot would actually take the time to play the piano if they were actively trying to stay hidden? The brief retort of gunfire seemed to prove her point. Although she could only hear what was going on, Magda still had a brief chuckle as she imagined the man scrambling for his life away from Alcina.

Not that he had many places to run to. It was either to Magda’s workshop or the library, and as the noise of confrontation began to distance itself from her hiding place, she breathed a sigh of relief. The library it was then.

“How has this man managed to survive this long?” she softly asked Bela’s remains. As if in answer, gunshots rang out once more and the seamstress stood, wondering who he was fighting now. The previously reassuring knowledge that bullets couldn’t harm anyone in this house re-entered Magda’s head… but it was quickly dashed to pieces as she glanced back at Bela. Who had he gone after now? She needed to know.

For five long minutes, Magda stood at her sewing room door, with it cracked open enough to listen. But she heard nothing. No footsteps, no gunfire, no sounds of anyone.

If Alcina caught her, it would be death, a voice in her head reasoned.

So she simply would avoiding getting caught, another replied.

The distance to the library wasn’t far, and she could easily hear the Countess’ footsteps well in advance, allowing her to hide as she approached.

“I’ll be back soon, stea mică. I won’t be long,” she softly told the flies. A few seemed to twitch in response. God, she hoped that she was right in the foolish ‘not dead, only hibernating’ theory. Basin and flannel cloth in hand, Magda made her way to the library, hoping she wouldn’t need what she carried.

Her heart sank upon feeling the chilly air inside. Papers were scattered, vases lay shattered, and, near enough to be in the light cast from the glass skylight which acted as a central decorative point for the room, was another large pile of immobile flies. Magda actually needed a moment to sit and collect herself with this discovery. Little flies, whose bodies glittered in the light, matched Daniela’s hair color.

Alcina will weep, Magda thought as she did her best to keep her own tears from falling once more. Gathering up these remains took longer than Bela’s, but not because they were scattered about. No. For as messy and wild as Daniela was in life, she had collapsed in a neat little pile. It was the weight and knowledge that this was the baby of the family which made this such a long and arduous task.

“You’re not alone, Dani. I’m not letting you be alone. I’m taking you to your sister. You’ll be safe in my sewing room,” She told the flies. Could this have been the first sign of madness? After all, Magda was talking to a container full of potentially dead insects. She recalled the character of Renfield from Dracula. The man went mad in an effort to serve and worship his vampire lord. Perhaps she was becoming something along the same lines. Perhaps she was already dead; killed by the intruder, and this was her own personal hell of gathering up mounds of flies throughout the castle for the rest of eternity, all the while avoiding Alcina. If Bela’s nest was not in the workshop when she returned to it, Magda figured this terrible thought would be reality.

Thankfully, upon opening the door to her workshop, the comforter and blanket that Bela was nestled in was still where the seamstress had left it. So maybe she was not dead and this was not hell. Little miracles were all she could hope for right now.

Magda took her time making Daniela’s nest, listening for anything that would signal they were victorious and this man-thing was dead and gone. She shook her head a little as she used that term. Normally, Magda did not join in on calling men that, but this was a special case. This individual didn’t seem human. The fact that he could best two of the daughters worried her, and a dread feeling that, unless mother and daughter combined forces, Cassandra could fall as well filled Magda’s stomach like a lead weight.

The daughters were monsters, yes. By the classic definition, that’s what they were, and Magda did not deny any of it. Blood stained dresses, screams and laughter coming from the dungeon, or even the rare times when Bela’s kisses had a slight hint of copper or something raw tasting to them. They weren’t normal. Alcina was also a monster; perhaps even more of one. The height, the claws, the gray skin that she hid beneath layers of foundation. All four of them shared that same inhuman appetite for blood and flesh. But, they also had human tendencies. They laughed, they cried, they screamed in fright the odd times they were scared or taken by surprise.

Then again, humans could be monsters as well. History showed how terrible they could be. Magda was certainly no angel, and she had the odd feeling that this man wasn’t entirely a good person either. Maybe she was wrong. Magda didn’t know. All she knew was that she was trying to save the small group of friends and family she had left in this world.

Minutes ticked by and still her wing of the castle remained quiet. The longer it stayed quiet, the more she worried. If the man was dead, Alcina would have come to her workshop to see to her daughter. But if the quiet persisted? Magda didn’t want to think on that.

“Should I go out and search?” she asked her charges. Of course, no reply came. Magda thought she saw more movement from Bela’s flies, but she had no idea if they all needed to be restored to a proper temperature, like a hive mind, before they could respond. With the way Magda had layered everything, they would warm up slowly and naturally. No artificial heaters or fires were being used, as she didn’t want to risk damaging them. After watching both mounds for a few minutes, the seamstress nodded, knowing once more what she had to do.

The castle had an unusual quietness, a stillness she had never felt before. There was always at least some sort of background noise; the shuffling of servants, the daughters’ laughter, the general noise of a home being lived in. Where was everyone? Had the man killed them all? Or were Sylvia, Andre, Samuel, Bianca, and the rest hiding in the servant’s quarters, having barricaded themselves in? Vulga likely would have escaped into the walls upon hearing the first gunshot, so she was probably safe.

At least there would be some survivors of Castle Dimitrescu.

Finding Cassandra took a long time. Besides hiding from both the constantly patrolling Alcina and the seemingly trigger happy mad man, Magda had to think like the middle child, who had the tendency to spend time in the oddest of places. While Bela and Daniela could be found in seemingly normal locations in the castle, Cassandra explored. She found hidden areas that were unknown to most of the inhabitants, hard to get to, or simply dilapidated enough and impossible to access unless you could fly. Magda assumed she enjoyed being hard to find.

The seamstress had searched damn near every room, after having briefly hidden for a few heart-pounding minutes in one of the dressing room wardrobes upon hearing Alcina’s approach. Currently, she was sitting in the back hallway, taking a moment to try and mentally collect herself. Magda hated failing, and right now she was absolutely in sync with the idea that she was a failure. Cassandra, as far as she knew, had simply disappeared. Had the man shattered a window and thrown her outside? If that was the case, then the chance of finding the young woman dropped to impossible odds. The castle was surrounded by woods and cliffs with sheer drops. Maybe… if the snow and cold somehow preserved her through the winter, Cassandra would show up in the spring, like crocuses.

At that thought, Magda let slip a sharp little laugh while, at the same time, her eyes began to water. Cassandra would hate being compared to a flower. She would absolutely have hated it. And for as much as Magda wanted to continue to both laugh and cry right now, it would certainly draw unwanted attention from one of two parties currently in the castle. Possibly both.

Wiping her face with her sleeve, she allowed herself a few calming breaths before pushing herself back to her feet and continuing this fruitless search.

The slight draft blowing on Magda’s hand from beneath the door stopped her. Yes, castles were drafty, but not this one. Alcina made certain to insulate everything as best she could so her daughters could survive the winter in relative comfort. But, there was a definite bit of air movement coming from under this door.

Opening it, Magda found the Statue of Pleasure…. with an animal skull in place of the sacrifice’s head. Not even Cassandra or Daniela would be foolish enough to ruin one of their mother’s statues. So, on top of being a murderer, this man enjoyed defacing both art and private property. What the fuck was wrong with him?

The indignity aside, the windows in this room were intact, so where was the draft coming from? The only other option was the fireplace, but if the chimney was that badly cracked, why wasn’t it sealed? Crouching in front of it, the reason quickly became apparent as the entire back of the fireplace has been removed, and the hole led to a set of stairs.

“Cassandra, you little shit.”

Crawling through the passageway, Magda entered what looked to be the remains of a hidden armory, or at least a place to stash and work on things a certain daughter didn’t want her mother to learn about or her sisters to interfere with. It would have been a lovely little room had it not been for the gaping hole in the wall, letting in all the cold air. And there, near enough to the stairway, laid what was left of Alcina’s middle child.

“At least you were smart enough to fight him in a room without windows,” Magda commented as she gathered her up. Cassandra was vicious and violent when she wan’t to be, but she was also calculative and observant. Perhaps that’s why she lasted as long as she did. Had she sacrificed her sisters in order to study this man? If Magda were the girl’s mother, they would definitely be having a talk about that later.

With the last of the Dimitrescu daughters safely bundled up, Magda began to make her way back to the workshop. As it was nearly on the other side of the castle with no direct route, she took great care to move as quietly as possible. She paused repeatedly, and scanned the Main Hall, looking for signs of the the woman in white. For as large as she was, Alcina was a stalking beast. She could be incredibly quiet if she wished to be.

As she crouched in one the small balconies, Magda heard movement coming from below her on the floor of the main hall. However, it didn’t sound… right. It couldn’t have been the intruder, unless he was gravely injured. But If that were the case, Alcina wouldn’t have been far behind, and Magda didn’t hear her at all. Speaking of the Countess, it certainly wasn’t her, as the noise was far too small to be anyone remotely her size.

Chancing a look, Magda peeked over the edge, and a soft gasp of surprise, sounding so devastatingly loud in this silence, escaped her lips as she saw what was beneath her. Luana, the castle’s head servant, the personal watchdog for the Countess, laid collapsed on the marble floor, clothes stained red with blood. Where had they been all this time?! Magda had scoured entire castle… Had they been outside and only just now managed to get in? This just made her life ten times harder. Not only did she have Cassandra to carry back, but now there was the issue of Luana as well.

She could have left them where they were. She could have. After all, Magda was currently disobeying orders and Alcina was already displeased by her previous actions. She should have taken Cassandra back to her workshop and then returned. By then, perhaps Alcina would have discovered Luana herself and… done what? She was hellbent on hunting down the intruder. Would she even have stopped and tended to her servant? Magda couldn’t say. She also had no idea what would have happened if the man found them first. Would he finish the job he clearly started? In all likelihood? Yes.

Tucking Cassandra safely in an out of the way corner by the top of the stairs, Magda made her way down to her fellow servant, glancing into the Hall of the Four as she went.

The doors leading to the Temple of Worship were open.

In all her years there, Magda had rarely seen those exterior doors stand open as they were now. The Countess was strict in her orders about that portion of the castle being forbidden to everyone save herself, and now the seamstress was watching her tall figure ascend the temple stairs. An unknown fear filled Magda with dread at that sight, and she hurried towards Luana.

Rolling the head servant over onto their back, Magda gave them a quick look over. Buckshot, and a few normal bullet holes, peppered Luana’s blood soaked torso. A normal human would have been dead from such injuries and blood loss, but Luana was thankfully not fully human, rather a Lycan-cross. They usually preferred not to speak of their heritage, but Magda hoped they would be happy to have it just this once.

“Luana? Luana, dear, can you hear me?” she asked, opening their eyes to check for any sign of life. She was met with slurred, half-conscious Portuguese. “You know damn well I don’t speak that, but right now any response is a good one, so I’ll take it.” The bleeding had stopped and their breathing seemed normal from what she could tell; no gurgles, bloody froth in the mouth, or sounds of difficulty.

“…Apologies…” they said in Romanian, doing their best to sit up.

“You’re fine. I’m just happy to see someone else, aside from the Countess, alive,” she replied. Their uniform already ruined, Magda removed Luana’s jacket and began tearing off bandage strips. Or at least she started to, as a distant crash and a devastating roar from outside quickly stopped her efforts. Whatever injuries seemed to be afflicting Luana were momentarily forgotten as they did their best to stand, only to collapse almost immediately. As they attempted it a second time, Magda moved to support them. She didn’t even say a word or caution them to take it slow as the two of them made it to the open doorway.

And what they saw? There were no words.

It was huge. A great beast, vast and terrible, with an immense wingspan, lashing tail, and a toothy, gaping maw circled the top of the temple tower; sometimes flying, sometimes crawling along the stonework. It was pale white with streaks of pink flesh, slick and glossy looking as the sun hit it. Muscles bulged as if barely contained by the skin, as tendrils curled and whipped about in an independent fury. It looked both cancerous and incomplete while at the same time horrifically beautiful and awe-inspiring in some inexplicable way. And to top it off, as if in an absurd gilding of the lily, Alcina’s upper torso, looking flayed and monstrous, erupted from between the beast’s shoulder blades. Her voice was distorted, both by rage, vengeance, and sorrow, but also by this transformation. She was lost in this madness, fully given in to it.

Magda’s knees gave way, and she fell to the floor, unintentionally bring Luana down with her. The seamstress was lost. How was this even possible? How had Alcina become this gargantuan beast? Could she change back? A sudden sick feeling rolled over her as all these questions and more filled her head. She was sure Luana was thinking similar things.

All they could do was watch this battle as it unfurled. Stonework and roofing tiles fell freely as the dragon creature did its best to pursue its quarry. Gunfire was heard regularly as Alcina taunted, threatened, and cackled in her torment. The fight moved steadily upwards, with more and more of the building being destroyed until a bloodcurdling shriek was heard and something structural gave way.

Multiple somethings.

Large plumes of dust, broken window, and cracks forming in the side of the building were the indication that the dragon had fallen through all of the interior floors of the temple, landing with a massive crash.

Magda and Luana looked at each other and then back towards the temple. “How about we wait and listen for movement?” the seamstress started to offer, but the head servant was already stumbling towards the building, trying desperately not to once more fall onto their face. They didn’t get very far before collapsing, but Magda was there to lift them back up. “How about a compromise? We get to the temple door and listen before barging in?” At that, Luana nodded a little sheepishly.

If Magda had thought the castle had been quiet, the inside of the temple was a veritable tomb. She just hoped it wasn’t a literal one. At least not for Alcina. Let the man be buried under all that rubble. Unfortunately, her wish was not yet granted, as she saw the limping figure of a man leaving through the lower level door. All she needed was a gun. Why didn’t she or Luana have a pistol? One bullet through the back of his damned head, that’s all that was needed and all this terribleness would be over with.

But instead, Magda just stood there, watching him leave before her gaze turned to Alcina’s body. It was still that dragon creature, but she had just come to accept that this was the Countess. Luana was already making their way down to her, carefully using the broken rubble as a stairway. Magda reluctantly followed suit.

The beast may have remained, but the human torso that was Alcina? That was gone, crumbled to ashes. The body was also still. Seeing that, Magda sat down hard, shocked by it all. Luana at least made it to the corpse, but they soon collapsed as tears began to fall.

Theirs was an ugly crying, one that Magda had never heard from them before. It was a full body shaking, heaving from the gut sort of crying. Luana had been serving House Dimitrescu since they were a teenager, and they saw Alcina as a mother figure, so Magda could only imagine what they were going through.

Letting them grieve for a few minutes, Magda eventually stood and walked over to Luana, placing a hand on their shoulder.

It was then that the beast took a great, shuddering breath.

Instincts quickly took hold and Magda scrambled backwards, not wanting to risk being eaten, while Luana did the opposite and moved closer, overjoyed to see some sign of life coming from the creature. She expected to hear a scream or cry of pain from Luana, imagining the creature lunging forward and devouring the head servant in one or two gulps. But instead, when the seamstress looked back, she saw Luana petting its head, saying soft things to it in Portuguese as it just laid there, barely making any noise.

“You are either very brave, very trusting, or very stupid to be petting that thing,” Magda hissed, keeping her voice down low, as if raising it would trigger the beast to attack them both.

“It knows me… us. It won’t hurt us,” Luana replied calmly.

“How do you know that? How is it even still alive?! Alcina’s torso is gone! The thing should be dead!” In response to Magda’s outburst, the thing growled, slightly turning its head in her direction. “… All right, I’m clearly wrong in my assessment of life and death. But that still doesn’t explain why or how.”

“Separate functioning systems? Maybe it all… pinched shut when the torso disintegrated? Like a limb or a tree branch that’s dying? Save the main body?” Luana offered.

“I would have thought Alcina would have been the main body. Can she regenerate from this?” Magda asked. Luana simply shrugged.

“We take her back to the castle and see what happens over the next few hours or days.”

“Easier said than done,” Magda replied, gesturing to the rock they scaled down and the all too small door was the only other exit.

“If it is a simple creature, then it will respond to simple things like food. She will need to eat anyways. We lure it back with food,” Luana reasoned.

The kitchen was thusly raided and a good bit of the meat that was there removed; both cured and what was still fresh. Amazingly, despite having heard the shrieks of the thralls earlier, the kitchen was now devoid of them. Had they wandered back down into the dungeon after finding no prey? Or were they all dead? Magda could only wonder as she glanced towards that corridor, her eyes wanting to linger on the spot where she found Bela. No, she thought. No, Bela was safe in the sewing room with her sisters. Magda had made a brief detour to deposit Cassandra there, as well as retrieve a pair of shoes for herself, before joining back up with Luana in the kitchen.

Along with the meat, they also brought along two barrels from the tasting room, placed at strategic points along the route back to the castle, in case extra bribery was needed for the beast. By the time they had finished setting everything up, the Alcinadragon… for what else would you call it?… was on its feet, clumsily walking around its temporary enclosure. Naturally, after throwing down the first piece of meat, with it being consumed in a single bite, the beast’s attention snapped to the two of them as it began the effort of climbing its way up towards freedom.

Magda knew better than to run. After all, doing so would likely trigger hunting and chasing instincts. But still, once the massive forelimbs appeared and the beast pulled itself up and over the lip of the hole, she made sure to be a good distance away, keeping Luana between it and her.

While this was something she normally would never state, on pain of death, it was rather easy to lead this version of Alcina around by her stomach. So long as they had a trail of food, she was easy to please and keep relatively docile. In the end, they only needed one barrel as a treat, though it wasn’t quite that. As they passed it on the bridge, the creature must have smelled the contents, or perhaps recognized the shape…. but how that was possible, Magda had no idea, as it had no discernible eyes right now. Either way, the tooth lined maw easily engulfed the barrel and bit down, splintering the wood and draining the contents quickly. Afterwards, the creature seemed more agreeable.

Maybe it had just needed a drink.

By the time they had entered the Hall of The Four, the remaining castle staff had emerged from their hiding places. There were no reprimands or excuses given, only looks and sighs of relief. Bianca, Sylvia, and Mihaela quickly flocked to the form of the Countess who was currently gorging on wine and meat. Samuel latched themself onto Magda with a tight hug; one that she was not exactly ready to receive, but she was also not about to deny them this comfort. Vulga also soon joined in, likely in an effort to make Magda feel even more uncomfortable.

“If you two insist on being this close to me, I will be putting you to work,” Magda told them both before taking them to her workshop and retrieving the three sisters. Sam took Daniela, Vulga carried Cassandra, and Magda held Bela close. The urge to place the daughters next to their mother was great, but caution won out instead. Who knew if or how the Alcinadragon would react to seeing her children as nothing more than collections of flies? Yes, they were becoming more active, but there was no indication they were on their way to reforming back into their human shapes. They just need time, Magda thought. That’s all. They’ve been through trauma, and they just need time to recover.

Even though it was not yet midday, It was decided that everyone would spend the night in the Main Hall. It was the inner most room, central to most of the castle, and it was big enough to house all of them comfortably, even a dragon with a massive wingspan. There would be safety in numbers.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” Magda asked Luana quietly.

“No. As far as he is concerned, everyone here is dead. Whether that is true or not…” They paused, not wanting to say the unthinkable. Understanding, Magda nodded and finished their sentence.

“…It’s best to keep up that appearance.”

“Precisely. We keep everyone centralized for the time being. Close off and safeguard the exit points, stay quiet, and wait. With any luck, things will be different twenty-four from now. Or at least there will be an indication of a difference.” The look the two of them shared was one of tiredness and threadbare hope. There wasn’t much left to run on, but so long as the lady of the house still drew breath, no matter what form she took, they still had their duties to attend to.

“Even if the man isn’t coming back, no one is going down to the outer gatehouse and drawbridge by themselves. One of the lords is currently weakened, you are still recovering from being shot multiple times, and while my mind may be playing into the medieval hierarchy of things, I wouldn’t put it past other things going wrong and our current situation being taken advantage of. We’ll go together. It’ll be faster that way.”

Despite initial outward appearances, the castle was rather impenetrable once locked down. A drawbridge, three heavy doors of varying designs dividing the exterior gatehouse, a massive portcullis at the Carriage Gate, and a smaller, but just as fortified, portcullis on the interior of the entrance hall that kept the front doors closed from the outside. For all intents and purposes, they would be safe and secure.

More of the staff wanted to assist in the closing of the gatehouse, but they were dissuaded by a few other duties; securing the door leading to the temple, keeping an eye on Alcina, and gathering up any supplies they would need for the night. They were also greeted by another unexpected task upon opening the castle doors.

In the middle of the Carriage Gate rested four crates; three of a similar size and one that was noticeably larger. Nothing had been ordered, and the Duke had packed up his caravan, vacating his usual spot some time during the battle with Alcina. Yet the note tacked onto the larger crate was in his elaborate, flowing script:

I’d wager these treasures are of more use to you than I. Think of this as a thank you for your years of patronage, as well as a farewell gift for the time being. Keep them safe.

Bonne chance,

The Duke

The lids came off easily, and inside, nestled amongst packing material were… statues? Odd ones at that. Beautiful, crystalline, and perhaps a bit macabre, they were three busts and one massive torso with what seemed to be very familiar proportions. Either the Duke had a sick sense of humor or this was something else.

“Take these inside,” Magda instructed, still a bit confused as to what they were. “Be careful with them. Don’t damage them.” She then hurried to catch up with Luana who had decidedly not stopped to investigate the crates.

While neither of them ventured out into the village, the lack of the noisy day to day life that would normally filter up from it was obvious and more than a bit unnerving. Yes, there were the occasional barks and growls from whatever lycans were still prowling around the buildings, but there were no sounds of people. That lack of background noise twisted Magda’s stomach and made her raise the drawbridge that much faster.

“Tomorrow… Tomorrow, we will search the village. Look for survivors,” Luana reassured her.

“I don’t think there are any other survivors,” she replied morosely, as her thoughts immediately went to the one person outside the castle that Magda actually cared about. Stay safe, Donna. Please God, keep her safe.

With each barricade put into place, Magda felt both safer and more alone… cut off from everything. But this was what needed to be done. As the final portcullis fell into place in the entrance hall, a burden lifted from her shoulders. There was still that sick feeling in her stomach, but her back felt lighter.

Why? She didn’t know. She didn’t deserve to feel better.

Everything was starting to blur together, and she didn’t care anymore. Magda remembered entering the Main Hall and seeing the Alcinadragon curled protectively around the crystalline torso that shared the measurements of the Countess, growling at anyone who came near it. She didn’t care or wonder why. Someone called out her name as she climbed the stairs, but she ignored it, legs carrying her faster and faster as she went. She didn’t want to talk. Her head, neck, and chest felt hot. She felt smothered and unable to breathe. She needed to get away.

By the time she was in the Hall of Joy, Magda was running. The library was a blur, as was the opera hall. Her eyes were open, but they saw nothing, as if her brain was on automatic. All she cared about was getting away.

She slammed the door to her workroom shut, turning the lock as well in order to keep herself physically, mentally, and emotionally away from everyone. She managed to go a few steps into the room before her knees gave way and she collapsed into a heap. That’s when the floodgates of emotion just opened up. She screamed and wailed, tears falling uncontrollably. All the pain and the burdens accumulated from this day, from these past few hours, came roaring out.

She had no idea how long she cried, nor how many in the castle heard her. She didn’t know if anyone knocked on the door to check on her, nor did she care. She would have ignored it anyway. At one point early on in her anguish, her stomach heaved. Only bile came out, as she had eaten nothing this entire day, but the wretching continued until even that was entirely discarded from her system. She cried until her tears ran dry; until only hiccuping breathes and weary, burning eyes remained.

Throughout all of this, there was one constant in Magda’s mind. She knew that if anyone, and she did mean anyone, interrupted her in this moment, there would be hell to pay. The staff had seen her mad and frustrated before, but they had never seen her rage. If anyone tried to comfort or hold her right now, they would be met with punches, thrown objects, and a slew of filthy, hate-filled words that she would likely regret at a later date. Perhaps even shears to the intruder’s throat, if she could reach them in time.

She didn’t want comfort. She wanted this pain. She wanted to hurt.

But most of all, she wanted her Bela.

Eventually though, the pain did subside. It slowly dulled and dissipated. To say it was completely gone would have been a lie, but it had settled for the time being. Magda’s body ached, as did her head. The floor beside her was a mess, but she made an effort and took the time to clean up the bile. She couldn’t stand having such a thing lingering in her workshop, no matter her mood or the circumstances. The process also helped the seamstress return to a semblance of herself.

After a change of clothes, a quick washing of her face and brushing of her teeth, Magda made her way back to the main hall. Samuel was lingering in the hallway, shuffling around a bit in an effort to entertain themself while probably waiting for Magda to re-emerge.

“Hey, Magda? Are… are you okay? Do you need anything? A hug maybe?” they asked, holding their arms open. Magda just shook her head and continued on. “Ice cream, maybe? We could sit and watch a movie together Not a scary movie or anythin’, but I’ll sit and watch something you’d like if it makes you feel better.” At that, Magda just sighed.

“Sam? Right now, what I want? I can’t have. So, please? Just let me go sit in peace next to what is left of the woman I love. All right?”

“Yeah, um…. about that? Okay, so we brought the statue things in like you said, but as soon as we did, the dragon thing that Lady D turned into? Yeah, she got real defensive and grabbed the big statue and isn’t giving it up. So, we then took the smaller ones and the fly piles got really active. Like super, super active. I mean, they’re not buzzin’ around like normal or human, but-“ Magda didn’t even wait for Sam to finish. Once more, she was off and running.

The daughters were on the opposite side of the fireplace from the Alcinadragon, though pretty much everyone was on the opposite side from her, as she took up an entire length of the hall. Samuel had actually been right, as the flies were more active since the last time she saw them. While not swarming, they were crawling over the statues, or rather, individual statues. Now that she was able to look at them properly, Magda could discern the shapes of the daughters in the torsos. Bela’s she knew well enough, and Daniela was a bit slighter than Cassandra… and all the while the appropriate flies were crawling over the appropriate statues. She still had no idea what they were for, but clearly they held some importance.

Whether it had been intentional or not, someone had set Bela in the alcove under the stairs, allowing a bit of privacy and seclusion if it was needed. Obviously, Samuel or someone else had taken Magda’s breakdown into consideration. Normally, the seamstress did not enjoy having special things done for her, but at the moment, she was not about complain.

Sitting on a blanket with her back against the wall, Magda actually managed to take a breath and relax for the first time that day.

They were alive.

Whether due to the added heat, time to recover, or whatever these odd statues were, the daughters were alive and moving around. They would be all right. The Alcinadragon had a forelimb curled around her own statue, surrounded by her favorite maidens, and was practically asleep, if her breathing was any indication. She would be all right. None of the servants had been gravely injured in the long term. The current state of the castle was an odd miracle, but it was a miracle nonetheless.

Looking at the crystalline statue beside her, Magda gently placed her fingertips upon it, in hopes that it would pulse or feel abnormally warm. That wasn’t the case, but one of the pale yellow flies that had been idly traversing the torso’s clavicle almost immediately changed direction and climbed onto her hand. Smiling, either from happiness or exhaustion, she brought the insect closer as it proceeded to march into the palm of her cupped hand. It happily buzzed and bumped its head against her skin, settling down in the warmth as Magda gently stroked it.

As if energized by her touch, the fly took to the air and landed in the hollow of the seamstress’ neck, where it buzzed and bounced around more; its little wings tickling her just enough to elicit a soft laugh from Magda.

“Hi, stea mică…” she said softly, body instinctively relaxing to that sensation. Magda wasn’t sure if it was her exhaustion or something else, but as her eyes closed and sleep began to take her, she could have sworn she heard Bela’s voice in the drone of the fly.

I won’t be long.

EPILOGUE:

“Magda? Magda, wake up. Somethin’s happening,” Sam’s voice cut through the blackness of sleep. The seamstress groggily rubbed her eyes and looked around, remembering where she was. Instinctively, she looked over at the Bela statue, worried for a moment at that she would find. The concern was unfounded as it was mostly covered by a swarm of flies, more than what she had seen prior to falling asleep.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked, standing up. The Alcinadragon was still asleep, her harem of maidens still tending to her. If it was possible, she too looked healthier.

“There’s something goin’ on in the village. Luana told me to get you. They’re in Lady D’s bedroom.” That made sense. The Countess’ chambers had a view that overlooked the village. It was a smart place to scout from.

Making her way there, Magda discovered that night had fallen, meaning she had slept most of the day away. Why hadn’t they woken her up sooner? She didn’t need to have her sleep schedule even more messed up. However, the not so far off explosions made her decide otherwise, as she quickened her steps up the stairs.

Luana was out on the balcony of Alcina’s chambers, watching a veritable firefight going on in the village. Massive waving tendrils were erupting from the ground, knocking what looked like military helicopters out of the sky as explosions and gunfire rocked what was left of the buildings.

“Have they come towards the castle?” Magda asked after taking it all in.

“No,” Luana replied.

“Then unless they come towards the castle, it’s not our fight. I’m not about to start something with a group that has guns, explosions, and…” An airstrike briefly interrupted the seamstress as she talked. “Whatever the hell that is!”

“I simply thought you would like to be made aware of this. It was wise that we closed up everything when we did.” Magda didn’t know why Luana was making her seem more important than she actually was. They were the head servant. She was just the seamstress.

“…… You’re going to sit out here until it’s over, aren’t you?”

“Of course.” At that, Magda sighed.

“I’m not staying out here all night. It’s too cold. I’d suggest that you come in from the cold as well, but you’re just as stubborn as I am. I’ll be inside on the chaise lounge if you need me. Please don’t freeze out here, Luana. I’m not about to lose you after keeping you alive.” With that said, Magda went back inside and made herself comfortable on the Countess’ furniture, something she’d never do normally, but this wasn’t exactly normal circumstances. Come to think of it, the large hole in the floor was also out of the ordinary. That hadn’t been there earlier today… What had happened here after she left with Bela?

She must have fallen asleep, since the next thing she knew, Magda was woken up by the sudden slamming of a door, followed almost immediately by being rocked off the chaise lounge by an earth shattering explosion. Broken glass rained down on her as the shockwave smashed the windows. For a brief moment, she thought a nuclear device had gone off and she waited for the incineration wave to burn her to a crisp. When none of that happened, and the castle remained standing, she looked around.

Luana was crouched against the door leading to the balcony, covering their head out of instinct. Brushing the glass from her hair, Magda cautiously stood up and looked out the window. Smoke filled the air, but as the wind carried it away, she could see a decently sized crater in what had been the ceremony site. There was nothing left of the tendrils from last night, just like there wasn’t much left of the village.

“What in the hell happened?” she mumbled. “Do you even now think there are survivors?” she asked Luana. In response, they simply pointed to the distant shape of a quickly retreating helicopter. For a moment, anger blossomed in Magda’s chest. If that man was on that thing? How dare he be able to escape so easily after causing all this destruction. But the feeling and hatred vanished along with the helicopter. If he was gone, then so much the better. Better for him to be gone and forgotten than to remain a problem for them all.

“Goodbye and good riddance, stupid man-thing,” Magda said, before turning her back on the sunrise and returning, with Luana, to her family.

[teyvattherapist]

A/N: I originally wrote this for an oc but then changed it up so I could post it here, I hope you all enjoy it (,: Part 2

Tags: gn!reader x dainsleif, angst if you SQUINT lol, mostly just fluff, give Dainsleif more love pls thanks.

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Dainsleif had long since become accustomed to the neverending ache of corruption. He has also become used to the pain of not being able to die, every wound leaving him more injured than the last but never quite pushing him over the edge. Normal mortal medicine stopped working on him, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask somebody else, given his limited options of immortals.

So he carried his burden alone, of course until he met a kind doctor who seemed to moonlight as some kind of adventurer. A kind doctor who saved his ass once, twice, multiple times, perhaps at this point he just craved the social interactions and got himself into sticky situations with the Fatui, a group he generally didn’t care to bother with. As if somebody like him could ever admit he was that starved of social interaction.

Dainsleif preferred to camp out within abandoned ruins and temples, setting up small bases everywhere to make things easier when he traveled. He watched as they jumped up on the stone table, crushing some of the luminescent spines they had spent the last thirty minutes attempting to catch in the nearby forest. They looked almost bored as they grind the spines with their mortar and pestle.

“You’re going to need to take your shirt off so I can access your arm better.” They looked up from the mortar, flashing him a reassuring smile before they focused back on it. Dainsleif turned away from them, unclipping his cloak and haphazardly tossing it onto the sleeping bag he used. The blond man hesitated for a moment, this wasn’t the first time, but it certainly never got easier. His own skin disgusted him, he spared a glance over his shoulder.

They were busy with their own work, various small jars and vials open beside them on the table, filled with different things. Dainsleif’s mental monologue was intense as he eventually got his armour and shirt off. When he turned back towards them they had scooted one of the chairs closer to the table. “I’m ready whenever you are, Dainsleif.” Their tone was kind as they crossed their legs, patiently waiting for him, focusing on the paste they had created in the mortar rather than pointedly staring at him.

Dainsleif sat down in a way that he was sideways on the chair, the corrupted side of his body facing them. They scooped some of the paste up with a leaf plucked from a leyline sprout, a peculiar application process. They had gotten used to the temperature difference between his natural skin and his corrupted skin, one cold one hot. It was an odd sensation the first time, but now it was just another commonplace quirk of the bough keeper.

“I appreciate your help.” His throat felt dry, when was the last time he said something, an hour ago? Dainsleif swallowed thickly, looking away from the doctor who tenderly soothed his ache with practiced fingers. They hummed in acknowledgement at his words, but otherwise remained focused on the task at hand. He wished now more than ever to zone out as he found himself doing on the regular, but no such luck would befall him.

They made a small noise after a few minutes of relative silence, pulling away and grabbing their bandages to wrap his arm. “And the pain is still localised to your arm and torso, correct?” He nodded his head in response. “Good, that’s good.” They maneuvered his arm as they wrapped it in the pristine gauze. Once they were done they dropped his arm, opting to scoop the rest of the paste into a small jar for later use.

Dainsleif stood from the chair, long strides bringing him to where he abandoned his shirt. The doctor packed up their jars and vials, packing them away into the leather satchel. “I will walk you back to the bridge.” The bough keeper pulled his shirt on, then his gloves, then his cloak, his protective layers. The doctor sounded amused if the chuckle was anything to go by, they were already ready to go when he turned towards them.

“Do you want to get a drink with me at Angel’s Share?” They questioned, the hope in their eyes was genuinely endearing to the blond. They had one hand in their pocket, the other resting on the strap of their satchel. “Of course you don’t have to if you don’t want to, I was just thinking since we don’t really see each other outside of-”

“No no, I’d enjoy that. Let us depart.”

since you asked to be tagged<3: @adorkably