#i kept rotating their colors in my mind and HAD to get them out

[b1asho]

I swear I'm not a wof blog I swear. Anyway, here's the bugs and a plant for some reason

Transcribed notes and other info on these guys:

the little doodles are just scribbles about where and their special glands are (which are colored yellow) amd how they work. From the top down and left to right, they say

'wrist spinneret with starter, mouth gland with proteins, combining them causes a chemical reaction makes a lot of quick-hardening silk.'

'Venom (soldier or Queen)

Worker-similar to silkwing silk

Drone-nothing in wrist'

'Extended periods of inactive sun time helps store energy' slightly to the left is 'like a leaf', slightly below is 'ambush attacks'

'No acid or venom, but secretes poisonous mucus and saliva' then to the right is 'very scary-looking because they have skin with bones under it instead of am exoskeleton'

Next to beetlewing head says 'acid spitting glands' below that says 'spinnerets on tail for building and subduing prey'

Some other general info:

silkwings are the smallest pantalan tribe amd they're omnivores, primarily eating plants but opportunistically scavenging when possible. they have a long tongue and a set of spinners in their mouth, the tongue being their to access the flowers,bugs, and fruit from the giant plants on the continent. the spinnarets from both their mouth and wrist have to be mixed to create the strong substance they use for building and defense (there is a ratio they can mix it at that causes it to combust when exposed to air and slung at enemies) the scakes on their wings are a bit poisonous but otherwise they have few defenses beyond this, they're also slow clumsy fliers. they have an exoskeleton but they also have an active respiratory system (so they actually breathe in and out unlike a real butterfly i think) unlike hivewings, they're not eusocial but they have been forced into those roles by the hivewing occupation. they're what's left of the beetlewings, having changed drastically in appearance over the years due to a lot of different pressures.

hivewings are large and omnivorous, but primarily eat meat to help fuel their flight. they're bipedal when on the ground, standing in a weird splayed fashion but able to run at fairly high speeds. when in flight, just like silkwings, they use both their leg wings and chest wings. hivewings can buzz them both at extremely high speeds and therefore fly much quicker and with more agility. also like silkwings, they have an exoskeleton and lungs, and their ither organs are stored in their abdomen tail thing to keep them away from the massive internal muscles needed to twitch their wings that fast. they are eusocial, and have several different classes. soldiers, workers, and queens are all female, and while they're larger than drones the queen is the largest (laying all the eggs in the colony. there are several dozen queens and hives on the continent, but they all answer to one). workers have a setup similar to silkwings where they can mix substances from their mouth and wrist to help them build the hive and trap prey. soldiers can't do this, and only have venom in their mouth and tail like a queen. drones are only there for the queen and don't do much else, having very little political or social power. hivewings are another offshoot from beetlewings that was mixed with some nightwings (which is why their faces, horns, and spines look a bit nightwing-ish and where their black coloring and sparkles of white dots on their wings came from)

leagwings are the only vertebrates, and look very scary to the others with their transparent skin,large eyes, and bones. they spend most of the day immobile somewhere in the sun,only occasionally moving to get water or ambush prey. their many frills help maximize surface area to photosynthesize with. they're entirely carnivorous when not getting energy from the sun. they're much more active at night, using the battery of energy they got from the day before returning to somewhere high and exposed to the sin so that when morning comes they can start to recharge. their main defenses are their teeth and claws, but they can also secrete a poisonous substance from their mouth and skin to deter others. it's mainly disorienting, but in a high enough dose it will kill. their long frog like kegs are for jumping from tree to tree and gor climbing because it's harder for them to work up the energy for takeoff from the ground. some of them are also magic and can control plants (magic is also how the One Queen can control all hivewings, but they also have their own natural pheremone signals) they have largely been wipes out thanks to outcompetition, habitat loss, and deliberate extermination on sight, but pockets of them are still around. they may have been from the same place as rainwings and share some of their features, but have changed drastically from those roots.

no one really knows a lot about beetlewongs because the version I drew is now extinct, but they were likely omnivores with both acidic spit and spinnerets, along with heavy armor. unlike their descendents they're still built more like a dragon from phyrria (idk if I spelled that right) with their big wing limbs being in front with the little arms being behind them instead of the other way around.

I decided to keep them all hexopods even though I think the hive and silk officially have another smaller pair of wing things (bringing them closer to being 8 legged in my version of things)

[creamecafe]

hii could u write something for Dae-ho set in the mingle game and its basically just him protecting reader and always keeping them at his side. 🫶🫶🫶

"As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you"

Summary: What the request says

Pairing: Dae-Ho x GN!Reader (No pronouns used)

Warnings: fluff, comfort, pining

Word Count:

Author's Note: Thank you so much for requesting. I hope you enjoy!

Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

It's a miracle that you have made it to the third game. You were sure you were going to die in the second game, but thanks to the team you had, you were more than determined to still stay alive

Out of all them, there was one that you kept looking at. Dae-Ho. You couldn't help but find him cute. This certainly wasn't the place to have feelings as you could die before telling him.

It was the same for Dae-Ho, trying to make sure everyone is ok and that the team survives. But it was something with you.

He felt safe with you, and wanted to protect you. Even if it meant giving his life for you.

The announcement for the third game came, you were worried, but wanted it to be over it. Dae-Ho noticed you being anxious and asked if you okay

"Are you okay?"

You stopped zoning out and looked at him with your heart pounding.

"What? Y-yes I'm ok thank you." Nodding trying to reassure yourself.

"I think this might be the last game I play in." You chuckled knowing deep inside you dreaded the idea

"Hey look at me."

You did as he said. "Don't say that, you have us."

He held out your hand to hold it. You looked at it and hesitated putting your hand out but you held it. A tight squeeze was given but not too rough. It was a sign of reassuring.

He gives you a smile and you did too not of full happiness but someone is here to care about you.

All of you guys were called for the game. You got up and stayed close to Dae-Ho. He looked back at you and nodded. You did the same.

It was the same, climbing up those colorful but dreading stairs to the next game. Every minute or two, Dae-Ho made sure you were right behind him.

You finally reached the game and saw a carousel in the middle with horses and so many doors of different bright colors for a Pre-K setting.

"Welcome to your third game." The woman's voice from the previous games you heard came on the speakers.

"The game you will be playing is Mingle. Let me repeat. The game you will be playing is Mingle."

Turning your head to look at Dae-Ho, he's already looking at you.

You quickly look away not to make the situation worse. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable as well.

"All players, please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."

"Oh this game? We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging." Jung-bae exclaimed.

"Yeah. Instead of hugging, we go into those rooms" Dae-Ho mentioned.

"If the number is bigger than six, we'll get the additional people we need." Gi-Hun

And if it's less than that? You thought in your mind

"But what if it's smaller than five? Like three or four

You turned your head to Dae-Ho. It's like he read your mind exactly.

"No matter what happens, don't panic. Let's stay calm," Young-il nods. "We'll make it out together. Here."

Those words echoing in your mind, there wasn't enough time to doubt if your group would stick with you.

You've seen how quickly people are to turn against each other especially in the Red Light, Green Light.

But you're more than determined to stay alive, just to see Dae-Ho's face every chance you get.

Young-il puts the back side of hand out to form a truce. One by one, everyone is putting their hands on top of each other. You were the last one.

"Y/N. Are you in?" Gi-Hun asks.

Dae-Ho looks at you with worry in his eyes. You had no choice and no knowledge of trusting others in this game, so you put your hand out on top.

Dae-Ho becomes relieved at this.

"One, two, three. Victory at all costs."

Sighing at this with relief, you guys begin to spread out. The carousel is starting to spin

People scream out in fear. Lights go out and the light in the middle where horses out lights ups and music plays.

Children are singing about holding hands and ringing around.

Dae-Ho holds your hand lightly. He grazes your hand with his thumb. You don't look at him, as you fear you'll die doing so.

It suddenly stops. The number is 9. People are running out frantically pairing in groups of 9. Dae-Ho doesn't let go of your hand.

"We need 3 more." You said. Your group ran looking for 3 more.

A old lady, her son and another woman goes up to you guys.

"Are you guys 3?" Young-il asks

"Yes we're." The old lady nods frantically.

"Quickly we got to get into a room" Gi Hun exclaims

Your feet were starting to move, but the grip of Dae-Ho holding your hand made you move even faster.

All of you guys rushed into a room and closed the door. The room was filled with heavy breaths. There was a click on the lock meaning that the room was closed and nobody can get in or out.

Right now, you have never been more grateful to be alive in playing a game

It wasn't long before you heard gunshots, and it was safe to assume it was those who didn't pair up or get into rooms in time.

Now that you're safe, you look at Dae-Ho and he does too.

"Is everyone ok?" Dae-Ho asks

There was a lot of yes. That answer might change throughout the game seeing how long each of us might last.

The door lock clicked and you guys were allowed to come out. There were bodies on the floors and blood splattered. "Take off your mind off those bodies or you'll be one of them" Your mind was telling yourself.

"We got this" Dae-Ho talks to you

"We do" You smiled. Don't know how many smiles it will take to keep going, but you're ready to prove his point.

The game started again and the carousel spins. You hold out to Dae-Ho's hand.

Now the number was 4. Young-il grabs Jung-Bae and goes to find two more people. That's left Gi-Hun, Jun-Hee, Dae-Ho and you left.

There was no time to waste. All four you ran to a room and locked yourself in. Gi-Hun was looking around for Young-il. You pulled him back in.

The gunshots came again. The lesser the number, the more likely people will betray each other.

How long this game will last, you don't know. All you know is that you have people here to help you. Even if it's just one person, it makes all the difference.

The doors clicked and it was time for another round. The panic and adrenaline of it all keeps coming back. But Dae-Ho is making sure you're by his side, even if he may die in the game as well.

Six the group was. Dae-Ho said you and him were going to go and find another group. Luckily you did and you managed to still be alive locked in a room.

Now it all came down to the very last game. There were less people than the game started. You wanted to finish this for once and for all. While the carousel was spinning and music playing, you place yourself in movement ready to run and holding Dae-Ho's hand.

"2" The voice said.

It felt like time was going slow once it announced the number. Everybody is rushing to get into a room. Time's running out.

You felt a hand pull you back and you fell to the ground. Dae-Ho heard your scream and saw someone trying to stop you from going into a room. Someone else was already in the room that you guys were planning to go into.

Dae-Ho could go into the room and that would already make it two. But he's made it too far to leave you.

He ran and punched the guy that pushed you. He put you back on your feet and dragged the other guy out. He slammed the door shut and the timer just came to zero. The guy on the other side begs and bangs on the door.

A pink guard shoots him and the noises stop.

"Are you ok?" Dae-Ho rushes to you.

Still shaken at what happened, at the fact you almost died if it wasn't for him to save you, you nodded.

"Yes I am. Thank you."

There was a moment of silence between you too as you were catching your breaths.

The door clicked and you both came out.

"Y/N! Dae-Ho!" Both of your names were being called

Gi-Hun, Young-il, Jung-Bae and Jun-Hee run up to you guys and you all hug each other.

"I'm so glad you guys are ok." Jun-Hee smiles

You're also relieved that everyone else is fine and made it out alive. You could return back to the dorms.

Walking down back the stairs and into the dorms, everyone was mostly silent but some talked.

You ran up and tapped Dae-Ho on the shoulder.

"Hey Dae-Ho?"

"Yes Y/N?"

"You could have gone into the room where the other guy before you dragged him out, why didn't you?"

Dae-Ho took a pause before responding.

"I have lost many people when I was a marine, seen people get killed in front of me. I can't let it happen to you."

He starts to become close to you but not too close.

"As long as I'm still alive, I'll make sure you're fine. That's a promise I tend to keep Y/N."

Those words stuck with you. You could die in the next game, but right here at this moment is a reason to keep going.

Taglist:

@hobinistaworld

Navigation | Main Masterlist | Squid Game Masterlist | Kang Dae-Ho Masterlist | Join my taglist!

[aureum-cordis]

Lost & Found

Parental!DogDay & Child!Reader

A/N: Hey there! First post, I know, but I couldn’t help but share this. A friend of mine encouraged me to, so I hope other people like it as well! This is only the first part and I have much more planned for this story, I hope you enjoy! I know this ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, but that may or may not be intentional. Find Part 2 here!

Spoilers for Poppy Playtime Chapter 3: Deep Sleep!

Warnings: Mentions of character death, blood, gore, and the like. Child experimentation will also be mentioned. This story will contain references to the information in the game as well, if uncomfortable with any of those topics then please proceed with caution.

________________________________________________

DogDay and the others knew well that something was amiss in the building, several of the Smiling Critters had sought him out due to the fact that he was the leader. CatNap was the only one that had been distant for a long time now, becoming something that he couldn’t recognize.

And then it happened. The Hour of Joy. The metallic scent of blood was something he could never rid his nose of, his ears still rang from the sound of screaming from both children and adults. The Prototype had clearly been convincing the cat of the Smiling Critters, for nothing but praises fell out for the creature amongst that dreaded red gas that poured out of his perpetually gaping maw.

DogDay had been able to reach the others first, encouraging them to not stand idly by and follow something as monstrous as The Prototype and his newly fashioned pawn.

It ended poorly, their rebellion was met with nightmarish hallucinations and a set of claws that sliced their bodies to ribbons.

Even they were not impervious to the red gas that covered the ground like a dense fog, announcing CatNap’s presence before he could be seen. Few of them remained, far less than what once was. They rotated hideouts regularly, knowing well that they had to keep moving to avoid CatNap’s patrols.

Currently, the place they had sought refuge in was some long abandoned room of the orphanage. Those that remained were silent.

CraftyCorn was frantically drawing something on a dirtied sheet of paper, the colors bleeding against her hooves as she struggled to keep a steady grip.

Bobby BearHug was huddled in a corner, clutching a blanket that was shredded in places and nearly fell apart as she held it to her chest, her body shook from silent sobs or perhaps fear of what would come.

DogDay himself was solemn, resting on the floor with his back pressed against the wall. They had just lost Hoppy days prior, or at least it had seemed like days. Any semblance of a concept of time was lost in this pit of despair, the inability to even catch a glimpse of light that wasn’t artificial was disheartening and disorienting. The others in the room were in no state to actively patrol, their minds in shambles and in various states of decay.

There was no optimism to be found, he knew that. Any attempt to even lighten the mood would be met with dismay and the kind of disgust that caused nausea to wash over oneself and clouded any other senses. They had lost far too many for any form of joy to be found.

CatNap may have been the one to end their lives, following the guiding hand of The Prototype, but their blood was also on his hands. Their screams kept him awake, the fear in their voices as they called out and weeped for help kept him going.

Slowly, he rose from his seated position to his feet, the sun pendant that hung from his zipper clinked against the metal with the motion and swung gently before resting against his chest. It was enough of a sound to draw the eyes of CraftyCorn, to which DogDay gave a dip of his head. “I’m sorry to startle you, that wasn’t my intention,” he started, voice rough and scratchy from disuse as he met the eyes of the other.

“I’ll take the first watch, be safe and try to get some rest, please.” The please sounded pathetic in his own ears, a sign that despite his attempts to remain strong for the other survivors, he was suffering from the grief and loss of their shared companions.

The idea of losing them too was something he refused to linger on, a small sliver of hope remained in his heart despite the horrors that threatened their very lives.

CraftyCorn didn’t seem to mind the interruption, even going as far as lowering her hooves as she looked over at him, the red crayon in her grasp rolled to the floor with a quiet thump. “Be careful, DogDay.” Her voice was soft, it was a comfort in this trying time. As gentle as the very petals of the flower she once smelled like, an extension of her kind yet hardy nature.

He wanted to reassure her, to give her some hope that he might return. But that wasn’t a guarantee, he knew that.

Regardless, he nodded before approaching the door, opening it slightly before listening carefully for any sounds. Relieved to have been met with relative silence, he crept through the door before shutting it behind him. Complete silence was impossible for him to achieve, given his size and the overall state of the orphanage itself.

His movements were slow and deliberate, each placement of his hand or foot was mindful of the debris that lined the halls. Shattered picture frames with glass littering the floor and various toys that had once belonged to the children here were a common item to stumble across. There had been moments when the odd toy activated or some rotting piece of wood snapped under the pressure of a bed that rested upon it, but it was silent other than that.

His ears were active in keeping note of his surroundings, as his nose focused on the horrible scent of lavender and the intensity of it. It stuck to every crack and crevice of this building, yet it was relatively faint at the given moment, a positive in an otherwise grim situation. His eyes swept every open door that he passed by, peering into the room for several moments before moving on. To say he was tense and alert was an understatement, every fiber of his being stood on edge as he patrolled the halls.

He froze in his tracks as a sound caught his attention, a sound that he hadn’t been expecting to come across. It had been a sob, a shuddering and weak sound that left from an open door in front of him. Had he not been focused as intently as he was, he could’ve missed it. DogDay stayed in that position as he listened further, making sure that he hadn’t been imagining such a sound. His doubts were shattered as he heard the sound repeat, the fear in the weeping was unmistakable.

The thought didn’t even cross his mind that it could potentially be a trap, that some sick monster would be willing to mimic such a heartbreaking sound.

[nanivinsmoke]

Spring break

Geto x Gojo x F!Reader

oh yall already know this gone be some freak nasty shit! these two fuckers in one fic with each other? oh yeah, you might as well submit. enjoy~!

summary ~ it’s spring break, time to have fun and unwind, and to get stuffed….

warnings and tags ~ fingering, overstimulation, car sex (fingering only), squirting, multiple orgasms, public sex, blow job (rough), creampie (mouth) jealousy, friends with benefits, part two will have so much more~.

words ~ 2.6k

twelve days. twelve whole days you’ll be with the two of them.

originally there were going to be six of you, but everybody bailed last minute; except those two. you were upset that not everyone was coming, but you were glad you were at least going to be with your two best friends. you needed this vacation, you needed to destress and keep your mind off work. you were here to have fun, and nothing was going to ruin it.

the three of you were packed into the black comfortable suv that geto rented, with you in the passenger seat, gojo in the back sleeping and geto driving. the drive to your vacation spot was long and every three hours you guys would rotate, so the each of you would have driven and the other two could rest.

but, you couldn’t sleep and it was all thanks to him. his thick finger pumped in and out of your sopping wet pussy, while keeping his eyes on the road. your shorts, along with your panties, were slightly pulled down to give him better access to your warm cunt, your slick dripping onto the car’s crème brule colored seat. soft moans escaping your plump lips as he curled his fingers, rubbing against your spot.

“shhh, we don’t want you waking him up in the back. wouldn’t want him to catch me playing with this sweet pussy, now would we?~” his voice low and deep, pinching your swollen clit, glancing at you from his peripheral. you shook your head and placed your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans.

“good girl. now, cum for daddy~” he pushed his fingers back inside of you, pumping hard and fast; guiding you to your orgasm. and you came hard too, biting your hand to stop the loud moan that escaped your throat. he slowly continued to finger your cunt, before pulling out—leaving you breathless and drained while he licked your sweet cum from his fingers.

you sat in your seat, in a orgasmic daze—trying to catch your breath, while gojo began to stir in his sleep. his crystal blue eyes opened and he sat up with a yawn, making geto look in the rear view mirror. “gps says we should be there in ten minutes,” he spoke like read his mind, glancing at you with a smirk etched on his face.

you knew that in those ten minutes that you were fucked.

———

the house the three of you rented was huge, it had three big bedrooms with adjoining bathrooms, a huge infinity pool, a jacuzzi on the deck, a movie room and a bar in the basement. these twelve days were going to be memorable.

dropping your suitcase and luggage down into the bedroom you picked out, you plopped on the soft king sized bed—face deep into the pillows, mind still clouded with thoughts of geto and you in the car. just the thought of gojo catching the both of you, had you pressing your legs together as that familiar throbbing sensation reappeared.

what would gojo do? what would he say if he saw his best friend getting finger fucked by his other best friend? would he join in? make geto pull the car over so they could stuff you with their cocks?

before you know it, your hands have found their way into your shorts; rubbing your sensitive clit and dipping into your wet hole. with your eyes being closed, you didn’t see the spiky haired white male appear in your room; amused to see you playing with yourself, but shocked to hear you moan his and geto’s name. he softly closes the door behind him, startling you.

“so what I saw in the car, wasn’t my imagination? im a little jealous you let geto of all people play with that pretty pussy.” so he did see everything. you said nothing and only kept your eyes on him, a little shy that you were caught playing with yourself. a smirked eased onto his face as he sat on the bed in front of your spread legs, eyes dropping to your clothed cunt, then back up to your eyes.

“idiot only let you cum once too. no wonder you want more.” his eyes low and lidded, his hands softly tracing your bare thigh, sending flutters to your pussy. his hands slowly make its way to the middle of your shorts, rubbing the area where your clit hid underneath. you let out a breath of air, amazed at how easily he found your clit, pressing on it hard enough where it sent shivers up your spine.

“let me teach you how many times a woman should cum,” he unbuttoned your shorts, pulling them down with your help and tossed them to the other side of the room.

a whistle left his mouth and he smirked, “whew, you’ve been waiting for this? so wet for me already~” his hands rubbed on the outline of your puffy lips, the deep stain of your slick that soiled your panties—stuck against the tips of his fingers. “gojo~” you whined, wanting him to stop teasing and push his fingers inside—or to put something else in.

a chuckle escaped his lips, “so needy for me~.” he pulled the soaked fabric aside, your puffy lips glistening from your slick. he took a second to admire how pretty your cunt looked, before his lips attached to your clit—sucking and swirling his tongue on it. your hands immediately latched onto his winter white locks, pushing him deeper into your cunt.

he mumbled against your wetness, the vibrations made your clit throb while moans spilled from your plump lips. he pushed two of his long fingers into your aching hole, causing you to gasp. “oh fuck gojo!” you moaned loudly, making him detach from your clit— slick all over his lips. “want geto to hear your slut noises? want him to come in here and catch me two—three fingers deep inside of you?” he pushed another finger inside of you, stretching your hole.

you wanted to scream from the sensation, his long digits rubbing against your spot with each pump—your cunt clenching around him crazily. “did you just get wetter from that? so fucking nasty” he reattached his lips to your clit, pumping inside of you faster. that ball in your stomach was getting bigger by the second and you so desperately wanted to cum—no needed to cum for him.

“so close, g’na cum for you” you breathe out, rotating your hips against his lips. he began to swirl his tongue in a different manner—shivers and jolts of excitement being sent up your spine. and by the time you realized he was spelling his name on your clit, that ball exploded inside of you—with you coming undone underneath him.

he slurped and sucked, fingers still pumping inside of you, making sure that he didn’t waste not one drop of your sweet cum—pulling away with a trail of slick following him. “mhm, only got to the letter ‘u’. don’t get too comfortable now, sweetheart” gojo didn’t even let you recuperate before he slid you between his legs, his boner pressing into the top of your ass.

you tried to reach around to palm him through his pants, but he stopped you—looking down at you with a smirk. “not yet, princess. not until i get you to cum until you can’t anymore.” his words caused you to gulp and you looked away from his hypnotizing eyes, looking at his big hands that hovered over your mound.

“which feels better. one—“ he circles your clit with two fingers and pinches your nipple with the other hand, a mewl leaving your lips, before continuing. “—or two” he moves his hands from your clit and pushes them back into your cunt, arousal immediately coating his fingers. you rock your hips into his hand, wanting—no needing more. and when he didn’t hear your answer, he removed his fingers, making you whine in response.

“let daddy know which one feels better, princess. now one or two” he repeated himself, this time he curled his fingers on the second one, while his palm sat on your clit; adding pressure to it. “two! oh my god, two~.” he chuckled and began pumping his thick fingers in and out of your sloppy, wet cunt—his palm rubbing on your clit adding double pleasure for you.

the sounds of your moans and your sex squelching, echoed throughout the room. he was pumping in and out of you like a madman, hitting your spot each time. and you were getting close, so so close. “cum all over daddy’s fingers. let daddy feel how that pretty pussy cum’s for him, kay’?” you nodded your head, pussy clenching around his fingers rapidly before you let go once again.

his fingers didn’t move from your cunt, no matter how much you squeezed your legs together. “can’t. too much—please, satoru~” you whimpered, looking at the sloppy mess you were making—slick mixed with your cream staining the sheets underneath you. “one more baby, cum for me just one more time. daddy wants to see you cum for him, one more time~”

fuck, it was so easy to listen to every word he said. you wanted to obey him. to cum for him on his command. to let him see how messy you were. to see how much you wanted him to fuck you senseless in the mattress. he pumped inside you faster, rotating his fingers around—stretching you more and more. his palm, now covered in your slick, continued to rub on your clit.

your walls squeezed around his fingers, with you cumming harder than the last. this time it was more intense—a clear stream of your fluid flowing out, dampening the bed even more. “yes, that’s it baby. that’s what daddy wanted, good girl” his pace quickened and you could feel yourself going insane as he drained you.

your body jolted and convulsed as you released, even when nothing came out. eyes rolled back and hands gripping onto the bed. you didn’t even notice that satoru left your room, leaving you to sit in the puddle of your cum.

———

day two.

you were trying so hard to be quiet, so the two of you wouldn’t get caught by the store’s workers. but, how could you when his tongue was so deep in your pussy, licking every crevice and teasing your gummy walls. you grinded again his chisled face, hands getting tangled in his sleek raven hair, tugging it as his lips sucked on your swollen clit.

the two of you decided to explore the town’s shopping district, stopping in a cute clothing store when you were ogling at this cute dress in the window. and when geto snuck into your dressing room, he couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

“cumming for you—suguru!” you whined when he pulled you off of his mouth, cutting your orgasm short. he smirked and got up from the dressing room’s soft bench, licking up your slick that covered his mouth. “this was your punishment, baby. I knew what you and gojo were doing yesterday.” you bit your lip, avoiding his intimidating gaze.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you immediately regretted the lie that flew out of your mouth, knowing that there was consequences to follow. he reached around and made you face him, brown eyes dark and lidded as he stared at you. “not only did you let him touch what’s mine, but you lied about it too? tch, g’na have to—punish—you!”

he pushed you down onto his lap, hand colliding with your ass causing you to yelp out. he sent another smack to your ass, in the same spot, this time a moan came out instead. “suguru, please~” you begged, earning another smack to your fat ass—another yelp followed after—making him hit your ass harder than before. you had to bite your lip hard to stop the scream that desperately wanted to be let out.

“see you have a problem with shutting up. gonna have to shut you the fuck up,” he pulled you back by your hair, unzipping his pants with one hand, making his cock springing to life. it was so fat and pretty. tip a nice shade of red, leaking with his precum. mouth drooling at the sight, your plump lips immediately latched onto it—welcoming him right into your warm mouth. he sucked in some air, loving the tightness of your mouth—almost forgetting this was a punishment.

he pushed your head down, bucking his hips upwards, his cock now deep into your mouth—touching the beginning of your throat. your eyes widened at the sudden force, tears brimming your eyes as he begun to fuck your mouth. so much spit coated his dick, dribbling out the corners of your mouth and onto his pants. it was so, so, so messy, yet you couldn’t help but want more.

the more he pounded your sweet little mouth, stretching it with each thrust, you got used to him—taking more of him each time. you were getting more aroused by the second, slick dripping from your lonely cunt—down your thick thighs. his cock was so addicting, you couldn’t get enough of the taste nor the smell of his balls, getting a whiff each time his cum filled balls met your nose.

geto’s eyes rolled back and his mouth was gaped open, low grunts leaving his mouth as his cock explored your mouth, the softness of it made him want to fuck you harder—deeper— he wanted to break your mouth and stuff it full of his hot load. his hand landed on your ass again, the fat rippling from the impact, making you moan against his cock— vibrating against his shaft.

he was so lost in the essence of your mouth, that he completely forgot where he was at until a knock was heard, causing his coffee colored eyes to pop open.

“uh, we’re about close soon. could you please hurry up?” a man spoke on the other side of the door. you had

“give me—shit—a second~” he grunted, looking down at you with pure arousal as you fondled his balls that was coated in your saliva.

“sir! I need you to hur—“

“i said give me a fucking second— shit, g’na cum, drink my fucking cum, slut~” geto yelled at the man, cutting him off mid sentence and making the male leave, while he thrusted in your mouth faster. his hot—thick load pooled into your mouth, coating the inside of your cheeks white. you gave his balls a squeeze, hoping to empty them out as you swallowed his cum. the warmness from it spilling down your throat, making you squirt—splashing onto the mirror behind you and the dress you were looking at before, staining it.

he pulled out of you with a pop sound following, spit and his left over cum trailing from your mouth which you happily slurped back up with a smile on your face. he reached over and grabbed you by the jaw, cheeks puffing up as he stared at you before he pressed his lips into yours, tasting himself when his tongue entered yours.

“fuck. i need to get you back to the house, i want to fuck that little throat some more~”

the two of you quickly got dressed and left the dressing room, bumping into the male worker on the way out and throwing a wad of money at him.

“i don’t get paid enough for this shit”

[cynfuldelights]

A Doll on the Wall

The dollposting got to me. Here's roughly 8000 words about becoming, transforming, and forgetting with the help of some magic and porcelain. Enjoy! Content Warnings For: Car Accidents, Blood, Broken, Bones, Implied Dismemberment AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65056150

-- Tumblr Version Below Collapse!

When I was little I used to dream of being a doll.

I’d lie in bed and stare at them all lined up in a row, sitting on a shelf mounted on the eggshell white walls of my room.

Just the thought of it was so relieving; imagining a reality where I could just… exist, and be appreciated. No asking about my future or my life or my lack of either despite a degree and years of school.

Despite breaking my back and mind to survive I still had so little to call my own. Even my house wasn’t mine; it was my grandmother’s. Still full of her things, full of her memories.

It’s no wonder that I would stare and admire them. Perfect, yet fragile things, much more perfect than me, more whole than I was at this point. Gracile arms and legs adorned in skirts and sleeves stitched full of care and details. Much more pleasing than the room they and I dwelled.

Even before she passed I’d stare up at my grandmother’s doll collection for hours. Sort through each one as I walked through her one-story brick house in the suburrbs, looking up at the shelves they were sitting on, getting a better look as I got older and taller. As a kid they were kept immaculately clean, a far cry from my own room, which my grandma refused to pick up after even before she had trouble walking. Must’ve been why she was so surprised when I started asking if I could help clean her dolls. For once she even bothered to show me how to do something instead of handing me a rag, pointing at something, and saying “Clean”.

I’d take down each one tender and careful like they were made of eggshells and gossamer instead of porcelain and hand-sewn cloth. A gentle blow and shake followed to free it of loose dust and then I’d wipe the shelf with a damp cloth, careful not to bother the others. There were dozens of them, adorning nearly every wall of every room of her home.

“Let’s clean you up little one,” I’d say to each one as I picked them off their shelves, voice as gentle as my touch, “I didn’t forget you.” My grandma taught me to say it to each one so none of them would feel left out. Ironic, given how many times she left me at home to go spend time with my cousins. Ironic, given how many times she’d talk about me in front of relatives like I wasn’t even there.

Like I was another doll on her wall. If only.

The winter after she passed, when the work days were long and the nights alone even longer, cleaning and rearranging them became a kind of ritual.

I’d drive home all the while bitching about the transmission that I still needed to get fixed, take off my suffocating work suit, put on one of my long dresses, put some frozen pre-made something or other in the oven for dinner, before then gathering my notes and cleaning supplies.

Aside from keeping track of names for all of them, I’d also rotate which dolls sat beside which and in which rooms so none of them would get bored or lonely. Demi liked the living room and sitting besides Ophelia. Candice couldn’t stand Katrina but could if Emily was nearby.

It was painstaking work, but I’d usually be done before I had to go to bed. Sometimes I wasn’t. Sometimes I’d forget to eat or forget to take my food out of the oven.

That’s how I broke my favorite, Wendy; by way of my smoke alarm scaring the shit out of me and causing me to drop and step on her with bare-feet as I rushed to stop my kitchen from burning. Being made almost entirely of porcelain except for her chestnut-colored hair, the largest pieces of her that survived were her head and torso. Even those were broken in the back like a caved in egg. A beautiful girl smashed to bloody pieces.

The others watched as I gathered her remains, cleaned the blood off, and limped her over to my dessk to try and piece her back together with superglue. It took all of an hour for me to realize there was no hope. If I wanted to fix her I’d need a professional.

I was guilt-ridden for days. Crying in the quiet moments and desperately trying not to at all other points. My coworkers became convinced I had another death in the family. I knew how to respond to these awkward condolences even less than the ones for my grandmother.

Even my supervisor told me he’d give me another week of bereavement leave if I wanted it. But only after the rumor reached him and after it became obvious my work was suffering again. Surprising, given how often I was late because of my car.

I took it. Gladly. It meant I had an opportunity to get Wendy fixed. I was more than willing to use the savings that were supposed to be for a new car for her.

But even as relieved as I was, I could see how frustrated my supervisor was. I knew then this would probably be the last bit of sympathy I got out of him before I had to start looking for another job.

The day after I called place after place until I found one that was close enough in distance and in price range with what I could afford. Unfortunately most were booked up or too busy to take something so short notice.

Except for one place I found on an odd forum I’d never heard of before. The post simply read:

<<If u’ve ever got a doll fixation that u need fixed check out this place, vera walked me through everything, fast service, discreet, still feel like the luckiest girl in the world>>

The rest of the thread was hard to comprehend. Lots of questions about the experience and how it felt, for some reason.

The linked website was… odd, they seemed to be into some New Age mysticism stuff given the lace-patterned pentagrams that served as the dot for each of the “I’s” in the business’ title. Their services were… vague as was the pricing. It was on the other side of the state but that was still better than shipping Wendy somewhere.

“Inanimate Interests, this is Vera speaking,” A woman on the other end of the phone said after the line rang twice, “How can I help you?” Her voice was smooth and deeper-pitched, something I was more used to hearing from a radio host.

“Um. Hi, *cough* hello, Vera.” I began, my throat hoarse. I couldn’t remember the last time I spoke to someone outside of work, “I-I’m calling because I have an all-bisque 19th century porcelain doll that got damaged pretty badly after I was trying to clean one day and I was wanting to see if I could get it fixed.”

“All-bisque?” Vera responded, clearly confused, “Is she… a doll, doll? The old-school kind, or...?”

It took me a few long moments to realize she wasn’t calling me ‘doll’. In that time I paced around the living room twice from embarrassment, “Uh… yeah? She’s over a century old, been sitting on my grandma’s shelf for a long while. It um… meant a lot to her and she’s not… around anymore, so fixing Wendy would really mean a lot to me-to her, I mean.”

“...Ah. I see.” Vera said, followed by an appraising silence. “I’m sorry, but that’s not the kind of work I normally accept we’re… kind of a specialty business.”

“Oh.” The embarrassment left me as fast as my confidence, as I looked down at my list of possible places jotted down on a sticky note. This was the last one within the state. “O...kay, thanks for listening then and sorry for bothering you, by-”

“Hang on, hang on, wait-!”

I stopped before my thumb could hit disconnect, put the phone back up to my ear.

“Yes?” I asked, wondering if I did something wrong.

“Just because it’s not what I normally do, doesn’t mean I can’t do it. Rent’s rent, after all.” Vera clarified with a reassuring laugh, “Tell me about Wendy and what happened and I’ll see what I can do.”

I blinked in astonishment before smiling and sitting down. The smile faded fast as I recounted what happened to damage her so bad.

“And how often do you handle Wendy?” Vera asked, the sound of a chair creaking through the tinny speaker of my phone, “Monthly, weekly?”

“...Daily?” I admitted, shame and guilt running down my neck like my attempts at growing out my brown hair, uneven and prickling, “I usually clean and rearrange my col-my grandma’s collection every day.” I half-expected to get chewed out for messing with fragile things so much.

Instead there was another moment of silence from Vera, before she asked, “Do you do it daily because that’s how your grandmother makes you do it, or because you enjoy it?”

“...Does that matter?” I asked, shame snapping down like a bear trap on the real answer, “You’re just gonna fix her aren’t you?”

“Let’s just say the answer matters for my… process. Things usually turn out better if there’s some positive emotions like love in the mix instead of just guilt and obligation. It’s kinda like... cooking!”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, even as I picked at my nails nervously, “Well, I don’t really cook for myself but if it’ll help then… yeah. I do it because I like it. When I have a rough day at work which is… most days, I come home and clean and rearrange the dolls. My grandma used to just leave them up on the same shelves but I never liked to.”

“They get lonely otherwise, don’t they?” Vera asked, which earned a nod and “Mmhmm” from me, “Forgive me if this is overstepping, but, you seem to care more about them than even the person you inherited them from.”

“Yeah, you can say that.” I said, as I relaxed back on the old dusky pink sofa, “My grandma kinda got bored of collecting them after awhile, but she had so many by then that she couldn’t really just get rid of all of them without redecorating the entire place. It was dust bunnies and moth holes galore when I started caring for them. Tandy’s dress was all but eaten away by moths and Mathilda’s bonnet was in shambles… I had to learn how to sew to fix them all up.”

“You learned how to sew?” Vera asked, a little astonished, “How many pieces have you resewn?”

Before I knew it, we’d spent the better part of an hour talking. Vera would ask me about a specific doll or how I cared for them and then I’d eagerly reply. It was so rare I had anyone to talk to about it that the responses all but gushed out of me once I realized she wasn’t hanging up or losing interest. If anything she sounded more intrigued with every answer.

“A-Anyways…” I eventually stammered, after we mutually complained about how hard it was to find good craft stores nowadays that weren’t Hobby Lobby, “Sorry for oversharing, did you have anything else you wanted to ask me about Wendy?”

“Oh, don’t worry, this is all part of the process for new clients,” Vera reassured, “I have one other burning question for you though.”

“Well, shoot, I don’t wanna distract you anymore than I have. I’m sorry I just started rambling...” I said, sheepish as I glanced at a clock, “We’ve been talking for… holy shit it’s been that long, don’t you have to close?

“I have helpers don’t worry.” Vera said, a mischievous edge gleaming like sun on rippling water, “Which brings us back to my question-and again, stop me if this is overstepping… but,”

Probably just something about my grandma again… I thought to myself, Probably a “my condolences” discount.

“Have you ever wanted to be a doll?”

My phone clattered to the floor, I was so surprised. I scrambled to pick it back up just as fast as it fell.

“Um! Sorry, haha!” I hastily replied, a laugh forcing its way out that would’ve sounded more believable from a hostage being held at gunpoint, “I don’t think I heard you right, could you say that again?”

“Oh, I asked if you ever wanted to be a doll.” Vera said again. Somehow it didn’t lose any of its impact since the first time. My eyes darted around like I was searching for an escape from my own house.

“W-what kind of question is that? That’s not-” I shook my head despite Vera not being there to see it, “That’s absurd, you can’t just become a…” It was so insane I couldn’t even deign to say it. To let the whole idea sit in my mind anymore than it already clearly had.

“But you clearly admire them don’t you?” Vera asked, driving me to silent incredulous denial as she continued, “Almost everyday you care for them; you learn new skills to care for them before you. You sounded like you killed someone when you were telling me about what happened to Wendy...”

“That’s…” I shook my head again, as if this time it’d do something to banish these thoughts, these feelings, “I just feel guilty for breaking one of my grandmother’s-”

“There’s feeling guilty, then there’s paying money, likely a lot of money, to fix a broken doll that you yourself said your grandmother stopped caring for a long time ago.” Vera interrupted to say, sounding oddly resolute.

“You don’t know anything about me!” I declared, the denial boiling over into anger, “What is this, some kind of scam or a ploy, are you just fucking with me?!”

“You’re right on the first account, none of the others,” Vera answered, a ruffling of papers following, “You named… two, six-twelve different dolls throughout this entire conversation, not counting Wendy. And yet… I don’t know your name. Haven’t even mentioned it once.”

“Why the hell do you need that?!” I spat back into my phone’s microphone.

“Well, how else am I going to fix Wendy if I don’t know whose name to put down on the appointment?”

“...Wait,” My eyes widened, “So you’ll do it? When’s the earliest I can bring her?? How much-???”

“I’ll do it for free whenever you want.” Vera answered, driving me to silence, “If you answer the question, truthfully.”

I stared at the phone in my hands for a few minutes. Seeing if she’d hang up. Maybe it was a scam, some part of me said. Like someone just trying to find my security questions to the bank or my credit card. Maybe someone guessed I made them all doll-related.

“Take your time.” Vera eventually said, “But if you hang up, deal’s off, even if you call me back tomorrow.”

“...What if I just lie?” I asked pathetically, teeth and eyes grinding closed, “What if I just give you the answer you want?”

“What answer do you think I want?” Vera responded, her tone neutral.

“Yes!? You want me to say yes because you’re some fucking weirdo mystic witch or fucking nuts or…” I trailed off, unable to think of any reasons that didn’t descend into fucked up things to say to anyone. The kinds of vile garbage my grandmother said behind my cousin’s back when she wanted to go by Marcus instead of Mary.

“Then say no right now.” Vera replied, quick as a whip, “If you have no doubts, no qualms, if you’re perfectly happy and content with being the person you are right now when you wake up tomorrow and you just want to fix your grandmother’s doll; say no. I’ll still do it for free.”

My mouth opened on shameful reflex, denial chambered in my throat, my tongue cocked back.

But then, I looked around my grandmother’s house. Not my house. Her house.

It’d been almost a year since she died. I still hadn’t changed it anymore than replacing things as they needed to be replaced. She hated change, especially change she couldn’t have a direct hand in. It was why I was the one who rearranged the dolls for her for a long time.

It was why my mom hated her. It was why she left.

It was why my grandma put up with me. It was why I stayed. I thought maybe I’d be good enough for her one day.

Instead, she died. The lawyer who bequeathed this house and everything else to me said it must be because she cared about me. I never believed that. I believed it was because she thought I wouldn’t change anything. It was why it went to me and not my mom.

Sometimes I felt trapped. Like I was being suffocated by a dead woman.

The dolls were my only solace. They were in my room because they were in every room. They were acceptable because they were the norm. Me cleaning them was acceptable because helping your grandma is the norm. Maintaining them after she passed was acceptable because that’s the norm when someone dies. Telling anyone else about them felt nearly impossible. Bringing anyone here even more so.

I never admired them when she was around. I’d ignore them, instead. Pretend I wasn’t interested. Like scoffing at a life raft in the middle of a stormy ocean that reached from horizon to horizon.

Hot tears streamed down my face as I huffed, trying not to audibly sob. So much ran through me so fast that I almost forgot what I was doing, who I was talking to. The timer for the length of the call was still ticking up on my smartphone. Vera hadn’t hung up.

“Okay,” I began, the words climbing out of my throat like it was a dark pit, “Let’s… pretend, just pretend, that… I said yes.”

I could almost hear Vera smiling, this woman I hadn’t even met who I’d had the most honest conversation with that I’d likely ever had, “Already at the ‘let’s pretend’ stage, huh?”

Vera agreed to meet the next day, capping off our conversation with, “This time tomorrow you’ll realize it doesn’t have to be pretend.”

--

It felt like a dream when I woke up the next morning.

Too surreal, even though it should be simple and everyday. The sun was gleaming, clouds wafting through the air like the fall leaves. Normally I hated the colder months. But today didn’t feel so bad.

But the nightmare began fast as I fret about what to wear. Picking something for myself was a lot harder than for the dolls. Then it was breakfast, which was a bowl of near stale cereal.

Then I noticed as I was leaving the car had leaked a puddle of transmission fluid again, so I had to refill it, thus dirtying my clothes, thus making me have to change again.

I was thirty minutes late by the time I was on the road, hoping I could at least sneak out of my block before the lunch rush got bad enough the 2-lane streets clogged. It was still the middle of the work week and people were busy. Construction was blooming and booming and causing complaints from everyone who lived around there.

I rushed more than I should’ve. But I drank a coffee to stay sharp. Even had my seat belt on.

...

None of it mattered.

I didn’t even make it out of town before the transmission to my grandma’s Lincoln tore itself to shreds in a deafening cacophony of shrieks and screams.

Right as I pressed hard on the gas to snipe a left turn on a soft green.

A part of me wishes I’d picked something better than a sweater and jeans for the clothes I’d nearly die in.

Another part of me wished I’d died when that semi-truck T-boned me just so I didn’t have to have that stuck in my brain as the last thing I’d remember. That moment a beast of steel and velocity tore me from my car and into a terrible hell of TOO MUCH: TOO MUCH PAIN TOO MUCH MOVEMENT TOO MUCH CRUSHING TOO MUCH SCREAMING TOO MUCH OF ONE MOMENT REPEATING AND REPEATING AND-it ends.

Nothing made sense. The memories were more of a mess of broken pieces than I was.

Blood. Blood pooling around me like I was lying in a storm drain. The box shoebox I laid Wendy in was somehow lying beside me, soaking up the red like a sponge. Scattered pieces of porcelain laid around me like snowflakes.

My arm. I willed it to move, despite it looking more akin to a crushed ice cream cone than a limb. I couldn’t feel my legs. I couldn’t feel why my lungs struggled to breathe, just that they were struggling.

The scream. The scream of sirens, of commuters, of me.

Silence. Oblivion in a held breath. Terrible peace permeating everything like darkness when all the lights go out in a cave.

…

That voice.

--

When I opened my eyes I was laying in a bed.

None of my dolls were along the walls. But the shelves were there.

I bolted up to a sit when I realized I wasn’t laying in a sterile white hospital bed, but instead my bed. My grandmother’s house.

I’m dead. I immediately thought, I’m dead and this is Hell.

I thought right after, No. If that were the case my grandma would be here too.

There also wouldn’t be all this medical equipment. I looked around at a heart monitor, an IV pole, and other medical stuff on carts and surfaces. It looked like enough stuff to run an ER had been keeping me alive.

“...H-Hello-?”

“!” I cut myself off as I realized someone else was calling for me. Was it a nurse or…?

“Hello?-” I began to call, before stopping near immediately again. My hands darted to my neck.

That. That’s not.

“...Hello?” I said quietly to myself, despite sounding nothing like myself. I sounded… cute? I was sure I’d met a few girls who sounded like I did that I thought were cute anyways.

“...Did the crash mess up my throat along with my…” I raised my arm up.

I didn’t recognize it either. Instead of hairy skin wrapped around an arm, I stared at glazed porcelain spun and shaped to resemble the length of a human arm. However it was much more spindly, more the suggestion of a human arm than a replica of one. Where it terminated into an elbow was a rounded joint complete with smoothed corners that exposed as I bent my arm. The same ball-joint was present at my wrist. My fingers were individual pieces that overlapped like the vertebrae of a spine or armor on a glove.

I touched my fingertips together and felt the reassuring firmness of porcelain instead of the soft mushy give of skin.

As I shifted my focus from just my arms to the rest of me. To the fact that every piece of me was different. I was naked atop the sheets, which made it obvious, if just swinging my legs over the edge of the bed and onto the floor wasn’t obvious enough. They were wider at the thigh, tapering down to a ball-joint where my knees would be. Past that, my calf was thinner than any human’s could be. My “feet” more resembled the dome-top and flat bottom of a shoe than the complex bone work of a foot.

I rapped a knuckle against the surface of my chest and it sounded like a shell of porcelain. There was no suggestion of ribs, or nipples as a distinguishing feature. A smooth porcelain body, with four sockets for the ball-joints where shoulders and legs would go. And… an odd hole between my legs like something was missing. Which something was.

All in all I just felt… lighter. Like all of my flesh and organs had been soaked in the weight of my memories, and now I’d shed it all.

“...Hah.” The laugh was forced out from at first, disbelief.

I felt cleaner. Like someone had emptied out a grease trap, like I didn’t have neverending anxiety polluting my brain like a chemical plant.

“Ahaha…” The laugh rang happier with every realization.

I felt…

“Good.” I said as I stood. A little shaky at first, but it shifted fast as I got used to how it felt to not have skin covering the bottom of your feet. A little easier to slip, it turned out, as I nearly ate it just taking one or two steps on carpet.

Definitely don’t wanna be clumsy now. Otherwise I’ll break into pieces again, I thought, ...Why am I not in pieces though. Why am I…?

“...Hello?” I called into the house, plodding along step-by-step as I realized my sense of balance was off too. “Is anyone there?”

Silence. It was slow going, but I made it to the hall with the help of every wall and door frame I could hold onto along the way.

I headed for the bathroom first, so at least I could see the rest of what had changed. The only mirrors in the house were in the bathrooms, after all. I nudged the door open-

But stopped when I saw the blood on the ground. As the door crept open further I realized it was centered around the tub which looked like someone had bled a pig in it.

I whiffed the door knob twice in the process of slamming the door. I hurried towards the living room.

Unnervingly, all of my dolls were arranged on the couch, along with my notes. There was an empty section in the middle as if someone had been sitting among them. A cold, near-empty teacup was sat bside my notes on the coffee table.

I tried picking it up. Like walking it was hard getting used to my new fingers. The sensation was entirely different.

I raised the teacup to my face and sniffed. Dandelion? I definitely didn’t drink-

The jingle of keys in my front door surprised me enough that I dropped the cup. *TCHEIEEEEK* It shattered as I scrambled to get around the corner to the hall.

I heard the door open with the squeak as I faced the other side of the hall.

There was a pregnant pause as whoever was coming in likely saw the broken teacup on the floor if they hadn’t just heard me drop it.

“...Come on out, sweet thing. I didn’t forget you.” An extremely familiar voice called, her words sending a shock through my heart. Did I even have a-?, “But I will make you clean up if you make a mess.”

One hand on the wall to steady myself, I stepped out into the living room and into view, “V-Vera??”

Vera was a plump and bright woman, clad in clay-stained overalls that had one strap loose revealing the many curves of her body and the purple of the tank top she wore underneath. Dangly earrings hung from her ears; golden hoops with black pentagrams hanging from them which matched the dark color of her hair. Plastic bags were hanging from both arms like she’d been doing some shopping.

“Hope me being here isn’t overstepping,” She said as she shut the door behind her, “But I feel like letting me crash at your place is the least you could do after all the time I spent taking you apart and putting you back together.”

“P-Putting me back together?” I stammered out, glancing back towards the bathroom, “W-Why’s my bathroom look like a murder scene then???”

“Mm, I did say taking you apart, remember?” Vera asked, locking the door to punctuate the end of the question. “What kind of porcelain do you think you’re made of? Hard paste, soft paste, or…?”

“...Bone china.” I said licking my lips. I realized then, I still had lips. I had a tongue. My hands darted up to my face, my neck. There was a clear seam about two thirds of the way up my throat. A border where porcelain met skin.

“You… You-” I shook my head, staring at a smiling Vera.

“Aren’t done yet,” Vera said, setting her bags on the floor. I could see handsaw blades sticking out from a plastic bag from a local hardware store. “Honestly I’m surprised you even came to. Guess I should’ve asked Elise for a re-up on the anesthetics...”

“S-Stay away from me!” I cried, backing up as she got closer, “Stay away and I’ll just wake up because this is a dream, it’s a dream it has to be! I never met you, you wouldn’t know how to find me, you wouldn’t be here!”

“Mmm, it’s a dream and not a nightmare?” Vera asked, her playful smile coloring her words.

“It is a nightmare! You chopped me into pieces! You chopped me up and burned my bones into ash and-and…” I looked down at my body as tears gathered in my eyes. “What did you do to me?! Did you plan this!? Did you make that truck hit me?!”

Vera sighed. Stopped getting closer, which made me stop backing down the hall. “Always the same with the ones in denial…”

She raised a hand, crooked a finger. The next words she spoke were inflected in a way that made them echo through the hallway, reverberate through my body, “Come closer, sweet thing.”

“N-No way!” I spat as I started walking towards her.

“What the f-!” I began to scream as my body disobeyed me

“Silence, sweet thing.” Vera intoned, which carved the rest of the curse out of my mouth. “Don’t wanna make the neighbors think anything’s amiss.”

My jaw opened and closed, trying to speak, but all I could manage was the gross wet sounds of a mouth and tongue and lips mashing together. No sound left. All the while I got closer to her.

“Stop.”

My feet stopped when I was all but face-to-face with her standing in the living room again. My head twisted away from her, but nothing else could. I was trapped. Trapped in my own body.

Vera in the meantime circled me, appraising me up and down, occasionally running a hand or a finger along the smooth, hard material I was now made of. I just squeezed my eyes shut and tried to ignore how good it felt to be touched after years without it.

“I know you have all kinds of questions...” Vera eventually said, turning from me and wandering towards the dining room to retrieve two chairs considering the couch was occupied. She faced them towards each other in an empty section of the living room and sat in one. “And I’m happy to answer all of them. But if you start screaming, I’ll have to make you listen, understand? Blink thrice if you understand.”

Blink. Blink. Blink.

“Good. Your will is your own.”

Like a light switch flicking off, her control over me vanished.

Carefully, slowly, I sat in the chair opposite of her. It was strange. Sitting when you don’t have cushioning felt more like trying to settle a craggy rock into a seat than a person sitting. But I found what was comfortable quickly, with my “back” straight and my “feet” flat. I was glad I didn’t have to worry about the teacup shards anymore. Vera had to keep her shoes on by comparison.

A long silence sprouted between us.

Eventually, I asked, “What… did you do to me?”

“What you wanted.” Vera said with a shrug, “We talked about this, I hope you remember that much.”

“...I said hypothetically.” I said, my eyes shifting off to the side. “I never said I actually wanted to… to…”

“If you had made it to our appointment, I would’ve shown you it didn’t have to be hypothetical.” Vera explained, which drew my gaze back to her, “This is what I do. Unhappy people come to me and ask to be something else. I make them into something else. Simple as that. By trade I’d describe myself as a witch, but that’s so vague nowadays. Describes everyone from your average PENTA-GRAM user to the ones who make a life from it like me.”

“...I’d say you’re crazy if I wasn’t…” I looked down at my hands again. “...How long has it been since we talked that day?”

“About three months.” Vera said, looking up at the ceiling as she recounted, “When you didn’t make the appointment I knew something was up. Most people don’t miss this kind of appointment, and even if you had known you seemed serious about fixing Wendy at least. After that it was a matter of just looking up your area code and searching online to see if there were any accidents that happened the day of our appointment.”

“W-Where’s Wendy?” I asked as soon as I was reminded. “Is she here, is she okay, is she-?”

Vera cut me off by leaning forwards and tapping a finger to my chest, “That crash basically killed you. The only reason it didn’t is because enough of your blood, enough of you, had seeped into Wendy over the years you cared for her and from your blood after the crash. After I found you at the hospital, or… what was left of you, finding Wendy was a simple bit of thaumaturgy. Like pulling on a thread once you find one end. Took quite a bit of dumpster diving though.” She made a face, “Honestly, I feel lucky I got the smell out of these overalls.”

“After that thought, it was just a matter of tricking the right person into thinking that I was a close family member and getting your meat moved here once you were stable enough.” Vera said, eyes wandering around the place, “I’ve got a nurse friend, so I hired her to help me take care of you and help me…” She spun a hand in the air.

“...distill you.” Vera eventually said with a cheeky smile.

“…” I blinked. My hands came up to where she’d tapped.

Then again, I blinked. This time, surprised by the tears that were speckled across my new hands. By the vast cavernous churning of so, so much just rippling through me despite there being nothing inside of me. But that wasn’t true was it? Wendy was with me.

Somehow it felt like I was with me more than before.

Long hard sobs smashed into me as fast as that teacup had hit the floor.

“Aw, damn, don’t cry.” Vera said, a slight panic cracking her smooth demeanor as she sat forwards. “Damn it, Vera, no more weird jokes away from the girls…” She muttered to herself as she stood to fetch some tissue.

When she returned, I was still sniffling and wiping at my face with my hands, getting yellow-ish snot all across the porcelain. When Vera returned again with a wet towel I was calmed down, enough that she didn’t have to clean me up like she did with the tissues.

“Um sorry…” I mumbled out, before repeating myself more forcefully, “I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay, sweet thing,” Vera said, looking sheepish, “I’m sorry you woke up before I finished with you. Makes crying your heart out a lot easier when you don’t dribble snot out your nose and tears from your eyes.”

“...No, I’m…” I squeezed my eyes shut in shame, “I’m sorry… for making you do all of this. You saved my life, Vera. Without me paying you, or getting anything out of it, you… you went out of your way to save me.”

“...Haha...” Vera laughed. Remarkably more sheepish. “Well… I guess now is as good a time as any to discuss payment...”

“...Oh.” I said, surprised but also not surprised. “I mean… What do you want? If it’s money, I’ll just sell this house, honestly. Hell, you can have the house if you want.”

“Honestly, money isn’t… really an issue for me.” Vera’s smile was tight and apologetic, “Monetarily, you’ve compensated me more than enough. Luckily, Elise is as good with a scalpel as I am with a potter’s wheel, because biology was never my strong suit.”

My eyes felt like they widened to the size of silver dollars.

Vera shrugged, “Hope it wasn’t overstepping, but organs pay the bills, sweet thing. Especially young ones like yours.”

“...Okay.” I said, either feeling bizarrely okay with this or feeling way too shocked, “I guess I’m not using them anymore… so. Okay. But-wait.” A hand came up to the seam in my neck. “...If it’s not about money, or this house...”

Vera let her chin rest on the knuckles of her left hand as she nodded towards the couch.

I followed her gaze to the empty person-sized spot in the middle of all my dolls.

“Quite a collection.” Vera murmured, her tone neutral, “I didn’t mention it before, but… I have one too. Nowhere near as large, not enough room back where I live… My dolls are rather… large.”

As I tore my gaze from the couch, I realized Vera was leaning forwards, looking up at me with shining eyes. Like a kid seeing a new toy at the store. “But... I think I have room for one more.”

Another long silence bloomed between us.

Then, I asked, “...Hypothetically.” I began, hands trembling with a litany of small *clinks* as I rested them on what served as my knees. “...Could you make me forget everything from before? Not just the accident, I mean… I mean, all of it.” I swallowed. “Is… is that possible?”

A knowing smile eased its way across Vera’s face, before she stood and offered me a hand.

“Already at the hypothetical stage, huh?”

--

Sometimes, I have dreams about what it’s like being human.

What it must feel like to have to do all these rote things just to live.

Eating, drinking, shaving, bathrooms.

The sweat, the pain, the sickness.

The blood that gushed out at the nudge of a knife. The guts that were in someone’s belly. When helping with a client was in my duties I always tried to just focus on the bones that I needed to burn.

My Master says it’s certainly not for everyone, despite the fact she was human. My sisters who were once human more than heartily agree too, every time the conversation wanders there during dinner. While only our Master needed to eat, the rest of us enjoyed the company especially after a busy day. There was usually plenty to do between the shop downstairs and our home upstairs in the city we lived in.

Sometimes, there wasn’t.

Sometimes we had days when all the chores were settled and no clients needed to be taken care of that day. Days when we just got to laugh and play and nap or sing and dance and laugh as our Master watches with a cup of tea that we’d pick the dandelions for that same day. Any extra went with her when she went on a trip for work.

“Master?” I asked her on one of those lazy days after I awoke from my nap. I was sitting on Master’s lap, with my head on her left shoulder and my hand running up to hold onto her right. Our sofa was big enough for all of us, but my sisters had decided to go run some errands. Cars scared me, so I never went with.

“Mm? Yes, Wendy?” My Master opened her eyes from her light dozing, “What is it, sweetie?”

“I had another nightmare…” I whined, nuzzling into my Master’s neck.

“Aww, another one?” She sighed, “I should really tell Selice to stop watching those racing movies in the living room…”

“No, Master, about being human.” I said, a frown drawing across the carefully painted porcelain that comprised my lips. “It felt so real. I remember having a mom and a grandma, and my grandma was mean, and she made me clean and do so many things and I kept doing them wrong and I kept running and trying to rip these awful clothes off of me and-”

“Hush, hush, I’m sorry sweet thing…” My Master said, a heavier sigh following as she pet my head to calm me down. “It’s just a dream, I promise.” She paused to sit up. So she could put a finger under my chin to meet my lavender-blue eyes, “You’ve been a doll, a good doll no less, ever since the day I found you.”

I fret with the edge of my dress for a few seconds, scrunching and stretching the black fabric edged with white lace, a giddy smile on my face. The insecurity drown it out fast though.

“I… I don’t do as much as the other sisters though…” I said, looking down in shame, “It feels like I’m just always learning stuff everyone else already knows. Selice knows how to drive. Yvonne can sew and cook. Indigo is good with the client stuff and talking to people. Mai can write well and reach the top shelf…”

“We’ll get you a step-stool.” My Master pointed out with a gentle smile.

“Maa-steeer,” I whined, poking her in the cheek with a finger, “Don’t tease me… you know what I mean. It feels like everyone’s just taking care of me all day…”

“Is it wrong to be taken care of?” She asked, reaching up to flatten my poking hand and let it rest against her cheek, “You take care of me when I need it. You help the others when they need it. I don’t expect anything more from a doll of mine. Plus you’re learning faster than you think. Most people can’t learn how to sew in only a few months, Wendy, much less a toy like you.”

“Still…” I trailed off, withdrawing my hand from her cheek and folding it into my lap with the other. Instead, I kept shifting and fidgeting. Nerves and anxiety and fear and so much, just swarmed my head. It felt like I was back in that nightmare again.

“Master?” I asked.

“Yes?”

“...My head feels full.” I whined. “Can I have wall time?”

“Of course, sweetie. Let’s go.” Master said, shifting me in her lap so she could lift me like a princess as she stood. The feeling from that alone made all the bad stuff flutter and shift like leaves on a breeze.

Our home was a fairly large place. A three-floor slice of brick and glass in the heart of a city. The first floor was for Master’s store, the second the place where the kitchen and the bathrooms and the living room and Master’s bedroom was.

The third floor was for me and my sisters. Master always told me it had been an attic space before she and Indigo converted it into a what it was now. A massive playroom that spanned one wall to the other. Carpet covered the floors so none of us could slip and break. A big bookshelf of board games and a large table to play them on stretched across the largest area. A TV with a computer hooked up to it sat on an entertainment stand, with a variety of makeshift floor cushions in the form of pillows and pet beds in a loose arc in front of it.

Most importantly though, were the places for me and my sisters. Everyone got their own space to call their own along the perimeter of the third floor. Everyone put different things in them. Selice had lots of car posters and a computer with a steering wheel and pedals she can play racing games with. Yvonne kept her sewing machine and craft supplies in hers’ along with a wardrobe dedicated to stuff she was working on. Mai had a standing desk, piled high with partially written stories and books she’d read for inspiration.

Indigo and I’s were the most sparse. Indigo at least had a few mementos from her past: a guitar covered in stickers from shows she liked, a few framed photos she arranged on a shelf alongside old school books, and a few microphones she used to record songs with.

Mine by comparison, just had my shelf and my dolls. Everyone had a shelf. Including my dolls, which weren’t dolls like us, but still dolls so they deserved a shelf. Master taught me how to take care of them and which liked which. Even gave me notes to help me do it.

I didn’t recognize the handwriting though, it certainly wasn’t as bad as Master’s scrawled to-do lists.

“Hi, everyone…” I said with a weak wave as Master carried me up the stairs and into view of them, “Sorry I haven’t cleaned you today…”

“It’s okay, Wendy,” Master intoned as she approached my spot on the wall among all the others, “They understand.”

“I kno-ooow, but-”

“No buts. Dolls deserve wall time after having a nightmare.” Master said, glancing down at me with a stern look that softened to a smile in an instant.

I kicked my feet as she lifted me up and set me on my padded, painted shelf that hung from the wall. It was placed a few feet off the ground, so even now my shoes wouldn’t touch the floor. I thought it was a little scary only at first.

“Ready, sweetie?” Master asked, running her fingers through my hair to comb it out. I loved the feeling. Leaned into it and shut my eyes every chance I got. “Want a doll to hold?”

“Mmhmm…!” I said absent-mindedly as she continued running her hands through my hair, “I wanna hold Wendy…”

“…” Master stopped combing my hair and looked at me odd for a moment, before lightly poking the crest of my nose, “You’re Wendy, silly goose.”

“I’m not a goose…” I whined doubly pathetically now that I was getting teased and deprived of hair touches, “I’m a doll, and dolls don’t have names at first. You said I was named after Wendy didn’t you, Master? I wanna hold her.”

“I told you, baby,” Master said softly, taking my hand and in one of hers’, “You and Wendy were broken pretty bad when I found you and her and all the rest of your dolls. So I put you two together to make one whole doll and named you after her.”

“I know, but…” I sniffed, something strange worming its way through my torso, out through my joints, “I… I miss her? I never met her, but… I think I miss her. She was in my dream too and she was so pretty and so nice and she took care of me and...”

“Hush, my sweet doll, calm.” My Master intoned. Her words silenced mine. Made my mind slow and relax instead of race forwards. The lilt of them was so hard to ignore. Listening and obeying felt as natural as a human’s need to breathe.

“Let all that stiff stuff out of you. Out of your fingers, your feet… your arms, your legs… your joints, your eyes…”

Piece-by-piece I felt the worry wick away. The tension tying up my movements, my thoughts, leaked out of me as my Master resumed stroking my hair, straightening my skirts, adjusting my limp hands to fold in my lap. Warm hollowness replaced it. A peace that clung to me like a blanket or a fuzzy sweater.

“There you are. You’re just another doll on the wall, Wendy. And dolls don’t worry, don’t fret. They just… are.” Master said as my head finally slackened, only kept upright by the wall against the back of my head.

I felt small and far-away. Safe and warm. Like I was cuddling with Master at the beach again. Like the first day Master brought me home and my new sisters sat me on the couch to cuddle with me and dote on me. Like I didn’t have to be anything else but Master’s, her precious thing. A doll, no more, no less.

“Rest, little one.” The witch said, picking a carefully sculpted hand from her doll’s lap, and placing a kiss on the back of it. Wendy didn’t react. Didn’t move. Didn’t blink. She was a doll, right now. Probably happier than she’d ever been.

It was still so young. So new to its’ new life. But bright as a blossom. Every night the witch thanked the gods of the earth for blessing her with such a wonderful thing as Wendy. It’d only been three months. But it felt like the new addition to their family had been there for years.

“I promise, I’ll never forget you...”” Vera said, replacing the doll’s hand into its lap, as she looked up into those soulful eyes.

Even now, they were full of more life than the person who’d come before.

[rexxdjarin]

A Twisted Fantasy

Commander Wolffe x F!Reader One Shot

Summary: Wolffe is a little (a lot) pent up and he knows only one way to truly unwind until he can get home to you. Word Count: 2k Chapter Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ RATING, dom!Wolffe (is there any other kind lol?), p in v sex, light bdsm themes and spanking, male masturbation reference Notes: I was inspired by our boy finally posting tf up in the trailer🤍 crossposted on ao3

My head is fucking pounding.

Wolffe thought.

Probably atmospheric changes bothering my eye again. 

As their transport hurtled through hyperspace back home to the Triple Zero, he was truly just thankful to be on solid ground and in breathable air. On extended tours like this, Wolffe was always on edge and testy. He missed the comforts of his barracks back home. He missed nights off at 79s with his brothers. Most of all, he missed her.

It had been so long he could barely detect the scent of her on the panties he kept from his last time with her. So many long rotations of burying his nose in them hoping they’d help him get off. Though, it was less and less satisfying the more he messed with them. With his mission completed and his squad probably recharging in the mess, he probably had time to ease his tension the best way he knew how.

Wolffe switched off the nav he was only casually following their course on and stood up. He glanced around the room only finding it filled with the men who should be on duty tonight. With a curt nod, he turned on his boot heel and left the room. 

Tension pricked up his spine as the anticipation built up for his favorite night time activity. Well second-favorite. He reasoned with himself. As he marched down the hall toward his quarters, he scowled the way he always did when he needed to signal to his men to leave him be. The few he did see as he passed by clearly got the message, as they did nothing more than salute formally and go about their business.

Good. He could only wait so long to take the edge off. 

His fists clenched so hard that his knuckles cracked beneath his gloves as the thought of her seeped deeper into his mind. How she blinks up at him like a tempting little vulptex when she wants him. The soft petal colored lips he can kiss whenever he wants to quiet her bold mouth. The wafting floral scent that drenches him in her for rotations afterwards. He fucking needed her.

He shook himself from his daydreaming as he approached his quarters. Urgently he entered his chaincode and stepped inside, sealing it shut behind him. He let his shoulders sag and tipped his head back, sighing dramatically at the relief flooding him already. In a flash, he set his helmet on his equipment crate and shucked the rest of his armor onto the floor beside it, stripping himself down to his black bodyglove. 

His muscles screamed with overuse and the ache behind his eyes became even more noticeable without the excess weight of his helmet on his head. He eased himself down into bed and slumped into his pillow. The rest was soothing, even on the shitty excuse for a mattress they were all given. In a few moments, he was finally comfortable again.

Although, as the post-mission tension he had been feeling subsided, the overwhelming urge of sexual frustration rose to take its place. His body had already decided this was impossible to ignore, his cock hardening between his legs with every second that passed. The dull ache gave way to the familiar loaded throb that he’d come to welcome in his adulthood. It grounded him and gave him something to look forward to when he returned from a mission.

He sighed with satisfaction as he peeled down the waistband of his bottoms and let his now uncomfortably stiff cock fly up. He let out a huff, wrapping his hand around the base and giving it the gentlest tug to get himself started. The mission, the stress, the pain all melted away as he began a slow rhythm he liked. 

His mind wandered and thoughts of her poured in, like they always did. One dirty little thought in particular began forming. He couldn’t remember if he had dreamed this once before or if it really happened, but it excited him either way…

Her body splayed out on his dark gray sheets, the fabric pooling around her waist and hiding just enough of her breasts to keep things entertaining. He always loved how she looked from behind for obvious reasons, but from this vantage point above her he felt powerful. She looked so unsuspecting and helpless, like prey just waiting to be pounced on.

His cock twitched and bounced with excitement from above her, knowing mere moments from now he’d get to fill her up with it. She looked back at him almost in desperation, her eyes begging him more than her words ever could. 

Wolffe chuckled sadistically, slowly easing himself down to press his chest to her back. She keened for him, her back arching to brush skin to skin the way she craved. She turned her face hoping he would give her the mercy of a few fervent kisses, but not tonight. He couldn’t. His cock was throbbing so hard it hurt. 

He leaned closer, pressing featherlight kisses up her shoulder blade to the side of her neck. Grunting and swearing as he let his hips grind against her ass. She felt so good against him, her skin so soft and warm receiving him as he brushed himself against her lewdly. Teasing himself was torturous, but he enjoyed a little of that now and again. Certainly drove her crazy though. 

Each roll of his hips brushed hers deeper into the mattress beneath her and massaged her clit perfectly. The sound of her gasping and whimpering for more only made him want to go faster. Her hands reached back to grip into his curls and the tugging at his scalp made heat course down Wolffe’s spine like nothing else. 

Fuck. He swore, countering with a love bite in the crook of her neck that everyone would see in the morning. She moaned and pulled tighter making his skin erupt in goosebumps at both the sensation and the sound of her pleasure. She trembled beneath his weight, probably already close to cumming from the friction alone. She was like that when he was gone for a long time, anything he did made her insatiable and it made the sex unreal.

He suckled deep hickies into the thin skin around her jaw and teased her mercilessly as she moaned pitifully for him. He didn’t care. He was impatient and in control and he needed her wet, so she could take all of him easily. He rutted his hips between her cheeks over and over again, holding his hands around her ribcage to hold her steady beneath him.

Wolffe kissed up to her ear, his hands slotting into the dip of her waist to hold her as he slowed his grinding. “Are you ready to take me, darling?” he muttered softly, grazing the shell of her ear with his teeth. “I won’t be gentle, but I can’t wait anymore.”

She mewled pathetically, “I’m ready. I need you. Please, Wolffe.” The sound of his name in her little desperate moan made him snap. With a kiss to her shoulder, he lifted himself back over her and spread her thighs apart. Sticky warmth coated her inner thighs and he groaned as he slid his length through it with ease.

His eyes fluttered as he prodded at her entrance, the head slipping through and splitting her open as he followed through. Wolffe hissed, her heat searing pleasure through him instantly. He snapped a few shallow thrusts to part her walls around him and she cried out moans that would keep Wolffe stimulated for years. 

As her walls enveloped him, he started his grueling rhythm, his hips plowing into her as deep and as hard as he could. He growled in satisfaction, the burning heat swelling in his lower belly sending him into a frenzy. “You take me so fucking good.” He capped his compliment with a swift smack to her ass. 

She swallowed her cries, curling her fingers into his sheets and nodding vigorously. “Always, Sir. Always.” She raised her hips, giving him a better angle, which he took immediate advantage of. He wrapped both his large hands around the small of her waist for better leverage and shoved himself deeper inside her. 

“Awwh, that’s a good girl.” He gritted his teeth, her grip on him tightening markedly at his claim. “So fucking tight I can barely move. You missed me, haven’t you? Need me to come home and open you up just like this.” He laughed, letting his strokes shorten as he rocked into her a little harder. 

“Mhm. It’s not the…same…without you, Sir.” she muttered, turning to scream into the mattress as he sped up. Wolffe shifted to curl his hands into the nape of her neck and turned her head away from the muffling covers of his barracks bed. 

“Ah ah, let them all hear you say that, darling.” He curled his hand into her hair and twisted it around his wrist, pulling just enough to feel good. “Give me a little something to be proud of.” he huffed, the exertion admittedly starting to get to him too. His skin was boiling hot, a sheen of sweat coating his entire body as he slipped against hers. Her ass bounced against him, slapping against his thighs as he pounded her into the mattress beneath them.

“Fuck me, Wolffe.” she begged, her hands frantically searching for grip as he hit a spot inside her that made her scramble. “Right there, again. Harder…I can take it, Commander.” she baited him, rolling her hips back into him.

Wolffe dropped down to rest on his forearms and let himself press his body into hers. She writhed beneath him as his cock speared into her at a lower angle. Her walls fluttered around him and Wolffe knew from experience she wouldn’t last much longer. He groaned lowly as his own orgasm began creeping up on him too.

He bit down on her shoulder and let his hips drive as fast and deep as he could manage. “Know just how you like it, filthy girl. Fast and rough. Let me do whatever I want to you…” he grunted between exerted exhales as he kept up his pace. Her moans got breathier and she nodded in agreement. “Let me ruin this little cunt for anyone else but me.”

She cried out a pitiful “Yes.” Wolffe felt her muscles beginning to tense and her walls collapsing around him. His throbbing cock was suffocating inside her and he shuddered as pleasure began its slow trickle down the length of his own body. He could no longer control the snapping of his hips, the air in his lungs or the strength of his bruising grip on her perfect body. 

His ears filled with the delightful repetitive “Yes, yes….yes, Wolffe…fuck, yes.” Her soft curves and sweat-slick skin pressed against his, her walls trapping his cock in her warmth, her face frozen in permanent ecstasy as the high crashed into her. He pressed his forehead into her shoulder and pulled her hips into his as he locked in, shuddering from head to toe as the crest of his own orgasm dragged him under.

His groans died in his throat as he emptied each spurt of pleasure inside her. He lost count of how many times he shot molten hot ribbons into her heat. He panted, the overwhelming pleasure leaving him so delightfully and completely spent. He collapsed on top of her, rolling them both over to cuddle her close while he regained his ability to breathe.

Wolffe let his large palm rest on the soft plush of her lower belly, just over where he’d filled her completely full of him. She was already asleep, far too tired to stay conscious after something as intense as they usually were together. He’d hold her close and keep her safe, even if she wasn’t awake to experience it, for as long as she needed him…

He blinked away the haze of orgasm and came to with a mess on his hands. With the headache and all the tension completely gone, the pull of sleep was inevitable, finally. He cleaned himself off and laid back into bed, knowing that by the time he woke up in 0600 hours he could make that fantasy a reality all over again.

--

notes: hi I love him your honor I will probably add taglist and upload to ao3 later but I just wanted to get this posted bc im excited about it.

[random-cockroach]

What’s your favorite thing about Rung?

Either design wise or character wise.

I think he’s delightful and very interesting and you are who got me into the character

Oh I need to slowly get back in shape, using Rung as a slow door lever ahah There are several types of characters that I like and Rung's type holds a special soft place in my heart, took some time for him to beat his way through to there Design-wise I actually prefer many other characters, Rung is very pleasant to draw but something in his design still seems strange and off to me, but orange color in him is what I would never change I am yapping under the cut, which I do very rarely and almost always I read characters wrong, so don't look at me and don't bite me XDD

Character wise ~ I have a clear pattern of choosing my one favourite character who gives me a peace of mind: "loser" who gets beaten up by life but they still love their life and little things in it and keep pushing for us to find out how many traumatic layers under their smile is. They act passive in this life and try to not get in problems but problems find them and they have to finally act to deal with it because it is on the way of their calm life or events go against their world view. (Counts on fingers favs: Rosemaine from Ascendance of a Bookworm, Xie Lian from Heaven's official blessing, Shen Qingqiu from the SVSSS, Charlie from comic "Humor me", Kim Dokja from Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint, Prince Myshkin from "The Idiot" by F.M. Dostoevsky, now Rung got added which I didn't expect XDD)

I've been scrolling some plots that are made with Rung, usually they orient around Rung's depression episode because he kept too much in himself, angst rotated around him getting forgotten which is very much yes. But he canonicaly is scared non the less and even more to forget someone. This is the most scariest thing for him - to forget someone like people always forget you. He never changed his look while others kept adding new kibbles and so on because he is fascinated by the nature of their creation. He can't appreciate enough how they were born with iridescent metal and moving gears that made them alive, with the spark beating where their heart is. I honestly can imagine him as a highly altruistic person once he went online who likes to create memorable things that he personally encountered with his hands. Not shutting up about that particular piece of the pillar and what a gorgeous angle it has, telling compliments every random transformer passing him by. He might have been a handicraft master before he got interested in psychiatry to make sense of himself. He had a patient he was very close with but he died and he kept the negligence a secret because otherwise he couldn't be a psychiatrist anymore. He loves people, he loves to help them, he grew up through many events we never saw for him to be able to forgive anything. Transformers are highly social beings and being left alone is almost identical to being dead. Rung is still alive because he found a place where he won't be left alone for plenty of time, just like Swerve dealt with his problem but Rung has a stronger character when it comes to this. *sigh* Rung has so many things in him that could be rotated more interestingly outside "forgotten" angst. He likes to pretend that he is a good character reader, beside the fact that he is a psychiatrist he could be tangled in some manipulation machinations. He could be a mysterious undercover revolutionary in the Functionists Universe if he wasn't trapped that time. He knows 70-80% of the Cybertronians and they don't even know he exists, most of them were his patients, imagine if he wasn't a good character, something happened, well congrats he can get half of the Cybertron into a trauma shutdown with his data, and he would have enough tools, he was making controlled flying prototypes of arcs, he clearly could do more advanced accurate little things. I don't even talk about his "advanced quirks" like immortality. If he could control it even if he is clumsy and losing a limb damn much hurts, he could get out of so many situations. Imagine escaping out of somewhere by relocating your body parts, or only the head to get out.

I dearly love him as a sweet and calm character, I need such characters more in my life when I need to calm down, at the same time I love when such characters do something that can lead to their death out of stupid (but important for them) purposes XDD

[youthofpandas]

Call Her Ishmael (or: a trans reading of one of my favorite Limbus characters)

Hi, I have been thinking about writing something like this since Canto V first released and today I finally felt inspired to actually make this... A compilation of the parts of Ishmael's story that lead me to reading her as trans <3 and why I think that understanding her character though that lens works so well

We begin with a woman stuck in the mundane. No plans for the future, no dreams of a life beyond the one she is currently living in, and that life is one she has long grown tired of. And she decides she would rather quit living that life, even if it would kill her. Everyone told her not to do this, but she wanted (needed) to do something new with her life.

She finds Ahab here, when she is at this low where she is unsure of where to go from here now that she has cast her old life away. She looks at Ahab and sees a woman with goals, determination, serious plans for the future she is willing to commit to. And she wants to be just like that woman. She wants to be a woman who will choose what her destiny is, choose what life she has.

"I hoped to be like her one day. To be someone who will face the destiny of her own choosing. To have something I could give it my all with conviction and without a moment of hesitation."

And when she gets on that boat and starts this new chapter in her life, well. There she meets Queequeg, and is asked for her name...

Queequeg asking her name, something that surprises Ishmael, and complimenting her hair is a defining moment in Ishmael's life and in their relationship. And not only is it the first conversation they have, it is the also last thing Queequeg asks of her. To hear Ishmael's name one more time is something that will bring not only herself comfort, but she knows will stabilize Ishmael as well in this moment. That it will bring her back to when they had first met, to the fond memories of a good friend who had asked for her name. Ishmael's name, her identity, the one she forged on that boat even through great difficulty is what shaped her into being herself... That is how their relationship begins and ends...

There is also a recurring theme of being reborn, of happiness being found in another life that is kinder to them both. Ishmael dreams of a life where they can break out of their cocoons. She wants to bury her past and had no dreams of the future before joining the Pequod, before meeting Queequeg and finding someone she wants a future with. Through Queequeg, through the woman who thinks her hair is the brilliant color of sunset and asked for her name, Ishmael is capable of imagining a destiny of her own choosing just like she had wanted when she met Ahab. (She isn't able to chase after it, not yet, because of Ahab's influence over the Pequod, but she for the first time can at least dream of a future where she is happy)

When tragedy strikes, she is left as, in her mind, the sole survivor of the crew, she has lost Queequeg, lost Ahab, lost her chance at finding happiness and purpose. It's then that she takes Queequeg's rope (the thing that kept her alive! Queequeg throughout their time knowing each other is always there to save her and help her keep on living) and makes it into a headband, attaches cute bows to it, a bit of femininity that is intrinsically attached to the woman who helped save her. She grows out her hair, her beautiful sunset colored hair, and it is so heart warming. For a long time I assumed that her not cutting her hair was done out of mourning, out of an unwillingness to move on from the life she had on that ship, but instead it was because Queequeg had loved her and she had loved her friend in kind.

In conclusion I love Ishmael very much and I like to rotate her around. Everything from her metaphors of being stuck in a cocoon and wanting to break free, her envy of Ahab's ability to find purpose so easily, her relationship with Queequeg that helped inspire her to dream for more to dream of a future where she is happy,, it is all very good and to me reading her as trans strengthens the themes of her story. I've watched the final part of the Canto V dungeon several times over when my friends arrive at that part of the story, and the Call Me Ishmael line always makes me start tearing up.

Ishmael starts as an unhappy office worker with no future and it is a life she cannot continue living, she meets an older woman who has the drive and passion to chase after her goals and wants to be like her when she is older, she has a life defining moment where another woman asks for her name and wants to be good friends with her, that woman will save her in so many ways and she will love that woman so deeply for how she helped influence her life, she sees herself trapped in a cocoon and wants to break free, she dreams of her and that woman will persevere, how they will live out the rest of their days, countless mirror worlds of happiness spent at each other's side. She starts the game proper with her hair grown long, ribbons attached to a rope that helped save her that represents the woman who had saved her before. She ends her chapter finding a new adventure to go on, one will she get to explore the world she lives in, she has found a compass in Dante who will help her chart her path forward.

Also I know we all make jokes about how inconsistent the art is when it comes to her chest but like... Come on look at the difference here.... I'm correct about this. But I mostly wanted to make this post to point out that her narrative arc is also trans and it goes so much deeper than just art inconsistencies.

Okay that's all I can think of now, thank you for reading, I hope you all also love her <3

[copperbadge]

Hey Sam. Considering some recent posts I thought you might be interested in this article.

A deaf and blind mind: What it's like to have no visual imagination and no inner voice?

https://www.abc.net.au/news/2024-04-01/aphantasia-no-visual-imagination-inner-voice/103649486

Hope you enjoyed the long weekend! Cheers, Kate.

Oh, thanks for this! And apologies my response is like a MONTH LATE :D

It's an interesting article because it's more about the study than the topic directly -- which is not a bad thing, it's cool to see people working in that space getting profiled and hopefully getting attention/funding on account of it.

Especially interesting was the discussion of ways of "having" thoughts and the fact that Derek doesn't pre-hear his speech. I do actually often rehearse what I'm going to say but primarily, I think more like Loren, when I'm writing -- I may, for example, get a question on Tumblr and go about my chores for the next half hour kind of mentally laying out how I'll respond, but it's not like I hear my own voice, I'm just structuring the response. And I don't usually pre-hear spoken thoughts -- I don't pre-hear them at all, but if I'm going to give a presentation or have a difficult conversation I will often work out some modes of speech/response ahead of time.

I'm of two opinions about the reference to the mind being "deaf and blind" -- my knee-jerk reaction is that it's an actively bad way to describe aphantasia, because it implies that there's an impairment to cognition itself, which I don't think is the case. On the other hand, we don't think of hearing or visually impaired people as lacking senses, just as having a different experience of them, which does line up with how aphantic cognition happens, at least I think. It's true that unless I'm actively working at it, I don't see or hear anything in my mind, and even when I'm working at it I generally can't "hear" -- I can recite song lyrics mentally and they will be in the rhythm of the song, but I don't hear the music or the singer.

There's a highly stupid "test" that's gone around that's meant to indicate if you're transgender, which asks you to imagine a stick with a red end and a blue end, floating vertically in front of you, with the red end on the bottom and the blue end on the top. You're meant to imagine it rotating three times end over end, and then say what position the colored ends are in (which is on bottom, which is on top) after the rotation. Apparently depending on whether you have a "male" or "female" mind, you'll read "rotate three times" differently and a different color will be on top. This is self-evidently dumb but also when I encountered it I had to keep re-reading it because I couldn't picture something so abstract, let alone picture it moving, and I kept forgetting what was supposed to be where. Gender essentialism: defeated by neurodiversity!

In any case, I don't have the deep, profound grief that some people who were diagnosed with cognitive disability post-adolescence have, I think in part because my ADHD is mild and I did okay -- not great, but sufficient -- without treatment. But I do think that if I had been diagnosed with ADHD or known about aphantasia when I was a kid (not that it was conceptually present in the field when I was a kid) I would have probably gone into neuroscience or some related profession, or I would have stuck with my psych degree in undergrad. The longer I do this reading the more I wish I was working in that space. I don't think I have it in me to go back to school for a hard science, especially not if I continue working, but in a different world, I would have liked to have been a contributor to this kind of work.

[itsgirlcraft]

Ehhh I'm bored so have my Humanoid Beast AU

Soooooo...tbh Sabre's beast form is kinda like Indigo's Flesheater AU, just like- the body shape idk.

I can't believe it took me like 2 and a half years to get good enough at anatomy to successfully draw him, lol. I've legit had his design rotating in my mind forever hah

Anyways- actual au timeeee- so this is basically just a "what if Sabre's chicken onesie was part of his body" plus college au.

Several of the Steves are students, but under the guise of human forms, except for a couple. Rainbow Steve is actually human...sort of. When he was younger, he was brought to the Steve Realm (as in the Steve Saga Origins era) to take on the role of hero. It played out much like your average preteen fantasy isekai book, more or less, but still follows the og story. Most of the og Steve Saga isn't included here, at least not at first.

Rainbow kept his powers when he finally returned home, and they grew with his human form. His Steve form stayed mostly the same, never losing his bright colors. Thanks to him, those native to the Steve Realm were able to come to earth. Like the Galaxy family, at first, it's only Time, Galaxy, and Elemental.

But Sabre is more than just a human with feathers. Starting in middle school, he grew wings, which he could make vanish. But when he didn't fly regularly, they would get bigger, more antsy, and would reappear more. But eventually something different happened, after they grew to their largest after a long week in high school.

His body, his bone structure, it shifted around into something entirely different and animalistic. His final form is a sphinx-like harpy-ish creature, based on a chicken. For a while, he couldn't control this at all, only going on flights regularly would let him transform back. Stress makes it worse, so you can imagine how finals week would go :') Rainbow and Lucas are some of the only people he's shown/told this to, and Rainbow entrusts him with his own secret.

Eventually, though, the Galaxy family was over at his dorm when he transformed in the middle of the hallway, and got stuck. Galaxy was able to teleport him out, though he had to prove it by teleporting a fork over by a lake first XD

Later on, at a party, the one person I haven't mentioned yet accidentally reveals himself. The Guardian had found an ancient portal which took him to earth (sound familiar?) But it broke as soon as he'd gone through, and was not familiar with the human world - he hadn't been involved much in SSO. So he found himself drawn to the college nearby, and found that - as long as he hid his eyes and wings beneath his cloak - he could blend in quite easily.

He kept to himself, staying in the back of classes and simply learning quietly. But his first attempt at socializing didn't work out so well, because when someone knocked his hood off, he panicked and accidentally revealed his true form. Sabre forced his own wings to grow so he could cover them both, and Galaxy teleported them both away.

It turned out that Galaxy and the Guardian were childhood friends, and that Galaxy was an expert in portal repair. The group went over to the portal, practically in ruins, and Galaxy fixed it. But some drunk partygoers had come into the ruins, and so they rushed through the portal. But the surprise guests had come in sooner than expected, and one of them went thru on a dare. Galaxy shut it off just after he saw them, trying to keep more people from getting in.

And now we're back with the star-rats :) The Guardian finally got a chance to just relax, finally back home again, and talk with people. But it didn't take long til something strange happened. Sabre had never forced his wings to grow, and now, here in a world of magic, he was suddenly transforming! But even worse, he was growing bigger, so much so he ran down to the bottom of the temple to avoid breaking something.

Rainbow went down to calm him down, but Sabre was already spiraling, feeling the same he did when he'd first transformed. Oversized and Wrong in all the worst ways. His beast form would've felt less uncanny if he was unrecognizable. At least then he could pretend this wasn't him. But now - being as tall as a skyscraper - he felt tiny, everyone's gaze drawn right to his giant, lumbering form. It was all too easy to accidentally hurt someone in his smaller form, and now it was even easier. He didn't want to risk it, and tried to make himself as small as possible. And he wasn't even home! He was too big to even fit in the portal anymore, he wasn't sure if he'd be stuck here now. Would flying even reverse this anymore? Would he be stuck as a giant forever? It was just too much.

[whirligig-girl]

Guz kept one eye on the carpet, one eye on her PADD as she walked. The systems reports were pretty stock standard, though there was apparently a bug a few minutes ago in the transporter interface systems, which briefly took down all transporters on the Cerritos.

She heard loud footsteps, looked up from both carpet and PADD, and an orange woman with a short undercut hair and thick orange horns rammed into her, hugging her tight, and burying her head in Guz's chest. "Oh Guz I missed you so much, I've been dreaming of this moment for almost a year! Oh gosh we keep getting separated and--" Guz twisted uncomfortably in the woman's grasp, but wedged an arm between the orange woman and her chest. "You're, guh, ough... real sweet."

Orange looked up pleadingly. "And cute. Wow. But iiiiiii have a girlfriend! Hahaaa..." Guz continued.

Orange's face seemed to practically shatter at the realization. She stared in bewilderment. "WHAT?" She shouted, "HOW?"

Guz looked around for help. But the two of them were alone in this hallway. "It's??? A long story??? Involving medical trauma, being stranded on a rapidly rotating Class-D planet, and being abandoned???"

Orange's devastated face turned to shock. "AGAIN?" she shouted, "ANOTHER WHIRLIGIG WORLD? HOW DO THESE THINGS JUST KEEP HAPPENING?"

Guz felt like she was missing something extremely important and obvious. "W-what do you mean 'again?'" she asked, searching the face before her for some hint of familiarity. It... it... did look familiar, but everything in her mind was screaming at Guz that this was someone new.

Orange's eyes were tearing up. "Who is she?" she said, still clinging to Guz's uniform.

Guz hesitated. This... person, didn't seem especially stable. She might be putting her girlfriend in danger. Well. Then again. She is the mistress of the winter constellations. She can probably handle it.

"Junior-Lieutenant D'vana Tendi," Guz said.

Orange looked up at Guz through teary eyes, but her expression was stoic. She pushed herself off of Guz and stood up straight, still holding Guz's shoulders. "Guz. It's me."

Guz squinted, and stared, and flipped her eyes around a couple of times. Then she realized that it had been Tendi's voice all along.

"Oh. OH. OH SHIT. MUCK," Guz shouted. "I'm an idiot."

"No! I'm the idiot! Hah! Obviously you didn't get a girlfriend, it's been like. A Day since you last saw me," Tendi said.

"Well. Yeah. What happened to you?" Guz said.

"Phew, oh man, my sense of time is completely out of whack, it's been a WHOLE thing," Tendi said. "I'll tell you all about it after I report to sickbay to get these prosthetics taken off."

later

Mariner: how do Mellanoids even recognize eachother? You can like change shape and stuff. Guz: Well. Exactly! But you never really change color! Tendi: I still can't believe you didn't recognize my face. I mean, hah, I thought you thought I was pretty. Guz: OF COURSE i think you're pretty. I thought you were pretty when you were orange too. I just didn't think you were you. Don't blame me! Blame the pattern recognition of my driftwood-dwelling prehistoric ancestors!

[shingekicornwrites]

'bad miracle' behind the scenes, part 1

Designing Midoriya Hinata

I am a slow writer by nature. And part of this is because I need to rotate things in my mind for months on end to truly poke every single aspect of what it is I'm doing, to be satisfied with the final result. (The other part is that I'm either writing 50k in sprees or so stuck on something I'd rather swim across the ocean than look at my WIP). For a word for 'bad miracle' I rotated this story in my head a lot, and still do, and one of the most central things to rotate has been one of our main characters--Midoriya Hinata, second child to Midoriya Hisashi and probably one of the characters that's been the most fun to turn into a real person.

So let's talk about it.

Physical design

OCs tend to spring out of my head like Athena, fully formed and ready to get things started. Hinata was no real exception.

The very first time I ever postulated what a sibling for Izuku would look like I had this idea of a similarly doe eyed young girl, with short curls and a bow meant to evoke the bunny ears of his mask. When the plot for 'bad miracle' came to me, that concept was done away with entirely, and the image that came to mind was of a girl who was both Izuku's equal and opposite. Before I ever attempted drawing her I immediately ran to picrew.

And frankly. Knocked it out of the park. Hinata's personality was already in mind for me, barring some later tweaks as I got to know her better and think about how her character arc would progress, and I knew exactly how she had to look to match it. She and Izuku are both very alike and very different, visually.

Their matching components all come from their father.

Both of them inherited Hisashi's freckles, spotted all over and tripling in the summer months, and both of them inherited his curls. Different curl types, though. Izuku has a looser curl pattern that makes his hair very wavy, while Hinata wound up with a tighter spiral in the form of 3B hair. Hinata may or may not have inherited her more tan complexion from Hisashi's side, but given Hisashi kept a lot of secrets it's one more thing both children will never find out.

Their differences come from their mothers. Izuku has Inko's face--her large eyes, her nervous expressions, her coloring and disposition. Hinata didn't inherit her mother's face, but she did inherit the Umino coloring, taking her mother's hair and eye color and matching the rest of her maternal family with an oceanic palate. One feature I'd like to successfully draw one day is that Hinata's eye shape more resembles Momo's than Izuku's, because Hinata took many of her facial features from her mother's side.

Notably, Hinata is just as scrawny and small as Izuku was when we meet him at the start of the series.

The result we wind up with is that Izuku and Hinata look similar, but also different enough that most people wouldn't peg them as related unless they knew beforehand. When you do know they're siblings you start to notice the similarities--you notice how their freckles follow similar patterns, now they both have a curl in the middle of their forehead's hairline that tries to stick out like Superman's, how their facial expressions tend to be downright identical on certain emotions (if only with one set to maximum exaggeration and the other rather restrained).

These similarities and differences were very much cultivated on purpose, leading to:

Personality

I knew from the moment she emerged from the depths of my mind that Midoriya Hinata was going to be an extremely opinionated and strong character.

Which is why when her image came to me I sought out the most feminine princessy name I could possibly find. HeroAca is a series that never fails to use kanji for a gag or a character note and Hinata wasn't about to break the streak. The kanji for her name mean "Princess, noblewoman' and "kind, gentle, calm". Hinata's name was designed from the ground up to not match the child it belongs to at all, and reveal the folly of her mother's expectations.

Hinata's personality and character is made to play off of her brother's. They're opposites when it comes down to a few key traits.

Izuku is a selfless person who seeks to help others whenever possible, never asking for recognition.

Hinata is a selfish person. Sure, part of that is because she's currently 12 and all 12 year olds are self centered, but at her core Hinata does not have the endless sympathy that allows people like Izuku to constantly give his time and attention to other people. It's a trait she actually shares with her father, though while Hisashi was so selfish he harmed others for his own wants, Hinata practices a much less severe type of selfishness that's much healthier--she looks after herself first. She looks after her own interests. Her own emotions. Her own wants. It's genuinely helpful because it means she has firm boundaries and won't cave easily to guilt trips trying to make her compromise them. But it's still a trait to examine and hold accountable, because it means she has the ability to be extremely callous.

It also means she's liable to get so sucked into her own feelings that she forgets to think about how she may be affecting others. But that's a tale for later, leading to:

STORY ARC

Given that the fic is still. You know. Being written, I can't say much here. You gotta read the fic to see all that.

But I can say that the general progression of character for her is one that touches a lot on her brother's, in equal but opposing ways. This was ultimately the goal of creating her in the first place.

The story of 'bad miracle' is one about grief. About loss, about terrible fathers, about parents doing their best, and about family and the ugliness and beauty of it all. It's written for the ones with shitty parents they never want to see again and it's also written for me, who was made to handle the grief of my own parents on top of my own when I was just Hinata's age.

But the fun thing is the story arc for the Hinataverse as a whole.

Which is heavy contemplation on the very concept of legacy.

[thewisaaaaad]

GOOD EVENING

i changed my mind im releasing this now >:)

i finally got to the cliffhanger

AND NOW Hypnos is offered a choice.

I told you it would be fine :)

...if Hypnos can bear to go on, after all that has happened.

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

Hypnos opened their eyes to darkness.

Their whole body ached, every part of them felt like it had been run over by a carriage. their face was sticky with blood and Ichor, and they couldn't remember why. Why do they hurt? Was Narinder playing with the kits again? Maybe they should find the fox, if he's here...

Then the events of the last few years started to flow back in. Shamura and their second betrayal, the torture, the rescue by Leshy's agents, the hasty escape into the sea, Kallamars ministrations, the training in curses, dodging and healing, the plan...

and how that plan went so horribly, horribly wrong.

fresh, warm blood, mortal blood, streamed down their face.

Narinder was probably playing with the twins. in the worst possible way. And it was all their fault.

Hypnos scrubbed their face with their forearm, no matter how it hurt, and took a look around themselves. It looked like the void, but it lacked the warmth they remembered it having when they were with the fox.

How long had it been since they last saw the fox? Were they worried?

Hypnos doubted it. Who would worry about an oath-breaker like them, anyway?

So this must be it. This is the fading of souls that happens to those who die in the after. the place beyond death.

Hypnos was surprised that they had died so soon. Shamura- no, the Purple Crown had been shure to You are not yet dead, child.

Hypnos opened their eyes, searching for the voice echoing in their head. Something was behind them, but the puppet struggled to turn around to get a look at it, feeling like they were floating with no anchors to steady themselves. The voice, to its credit, did not laugh at the lambs flailing, only letting the feeling of bemusement seep into the lambs mind.

Hypnos, for their part, felt no amusement at all. especially when they saw what the voice belonged to.

An eye. sitting in the darkness, floating just out of reach, at a massive scale. It seemed sideways, as if it was laying down, but as the false lamb slowly rotated in the void, the eye rotated with them, continuing to lay sideways to them. It was cream colored, with clouds of other bright colors danced at the edges, like a hidden aurora borealis.

But the lamb knew of eyes like this one. It belonged to a crown.

You merely dream. The voice sounded elderly, tired. A fine disguise for a horrible creature.

"What do you want!?" The lamb shouted, after staring at it with barely concealed hatred failed to elicit answers. Actually, it probably wasn't concealed at all.

The crown just blinked slowly at them, before finally responding.

Child, I have come to grant you a chance. a chance to save "I AM NOT BECOMING YOUR BEARER, PARASITE!" The lamb interrupted, swinging their arms down in impertinent rage.

The crown waited patiently for the lamb to catch their breath, seeming almost... sad.

the gall...

I know you have met the sins. I apologies that my compatriots were unable to protect their bearers.

This was... not what the lamb expected, but they kept their guard up-

I know you think us vile, child, and not without reason. but consider this: that we may not be the infection, but instead are infected ourselves by Sin.

All the wind had been taken out of out of Hypnos's sails at this point, as curiosity won out over caution. "what do you mean, 'possessed by sin'? I had been under the impression that the crowns controlled sin, using it to further their power. Or was that a lie too!?" Hypnos shouted, a bit of their righteous rage returning to them.

It was not a falsehood, child, but it was not the full truth either. We crowns were made to control Sins, yes, but as with all things, we are imperfect. Each of us has a Sin we are vulnerable to.

For War and Wisdom, it is Envy.

Chaos and Order, Their enemy is Wrath.

Plague and Cure's poison is Sloth.

Feast and Famine fell to Gluttony.

And of course, death must kneel to pride.

But even the Sins of Gods can be purified by another crown.

The lamb considers this. They were given an enemy. something that could be fought, something that could be solved.

there was only two questions left to ask.

"whats your sin? Your weakness?"

I cannot speak its name, lest I invite it to roost within me.

"...what do you get out of this?"

I get the chance to exist again, and serve a bearer once more.

A light began to shine from behind the crown, revealing its shape. It was pointed, resembling a mytre, the same kind of hats the followers used to command the refineries back at Kallamar's temple. The eye rested in the center, indeed set sideways.

they could save Kallamar. They could save the others.

they could save Narinder, and keep their promises.

the question was, did they trust it?

Promised liberator of The One Who Waits, will you take me, the crown of sleep and wake, as your crown, and command dreams and nightmares as you wish

to keep the promises you made?

ACCEPT ⟻⤛⦿ REFUSE

[halothenthehorns]

Chapter 10: A Haze of Memories

"Percy, I'm begging you, please don't do this," Annabeth was close to tears and kept wiping at her eyes to keep him in sight.

"I have to, I won't let this be the best of me!" His hands tightened along his weapon with more confidence than he really should have.

"It's not worthy it Percy, just this one time, let it go-"

"Not a chance," he growled.

He released the arrow.

The wind somehow caught it and Annabeth's hair all in one massive gust, it dangled from her golden locks as she yelped in pain.

"I'm going to kill you," she groaned, her streaming eyes trying desperately to blink away every obscurity of grass, hair and yet more wind. "Why would you do this to me!"

"I thought I could reverse my luck," he sighed as he tried to gently begin untangling the mess. "If I can't get it right without the wind, maybe it would work better with all this extra craziness. It's usually how my life works."

"I'm going to get Chiron to ban you from archery practice, so help me," she tried to hold back a whimper of pain as she held the roots of her hair, still wincing every few moments as Percy tried his best to gently unknot the fletching.

Another dreamless night for them all somehow hadn’t made the pancakes they ate for breakfast taste better. Now they were just, milling around uneasily, waiting.

Jason hated it. He was also the one most firmly in the waiting party, despite Annabeth and Percy eyeing the book bag and the ground beneath their feet with more anxiety by the hour. 

His time at Camp had been strange so far and he was claiming to an adjustment period before going back to those things which they were willingly giving him, even if they knew he was full of it. Everything here felt so…gods it was so frustrating he couldn’t even put it into words. 

Having heard of the place for days, he’d thought he’d be fully prepared, but seeing it all in action rather than having it described was making his brain feel like someone had put it in backwards. Watching the others collect their food and scrape it into the fire as silent offerings had never sounded strange, but then he just stood awkwardly to the side with no feeling, no impulse to do the same in practice. Like watching strangers perform a tradition he had no part in, speaking his tongue but no words he felt. Even just seeing them collect their food and go the table just looked very, average?

The chore schedule was on a rotation for all the cabins, but with the influx of so many new cabins over the summer, and not every one of them even having kids year round, it was in a constant state of work to keep it fair and being rotated on promises and bribes from the rest of the kids to make sure the toilet paper got changed and the trash was taken out and all the little things that made this place livable every day while Jason had studied it in a desperate attempt of a kid looking for his name on a schedule to give him some clue where to go before Percy had tried to explain the mess to him.

The official training and mandatory classes were on a much smoother pattern, an honored itinerary from way back when the place was established. The new cabins had been seamlessly split among all of the various color coded sections that had once all been Hermes into equal parts. At least those he could follow without too much stress, even if he kept getting turned around at the lava wall and found himself walking into the arena in the middle of star-throwing class somehow twice in the span of fifteen minutes one time!

Annabeth had taken Jason and Percy to talk to Clovis, but the explanation their memories hadn’t been wiped, but taken, was somehow more disturbing than if they’d just been shoved in the Lethe. It was so, deliberate. Hera, or Juno, or possibly the two acting as one in this case holding their minds hostage had only been interceded by…something else. Someone else. 

He tried to seek out Leo from time to time, but he was surprisingly hard to find. When checking in on his siblings, they shrugged and kept saying they were surprised he kept coming back from the woods alive as often as he snuck in there.

When Jason finally tracked him down and formally offered him to come read with them once the rest of their friends came back, Leo had looked at him like he was completely nuts. He’d said he’d think about it. That hadn’t been remotely encouraging.

Okay, it had been really disappointing. Jason kept having to remind himself very firmly it was for the better this way if Leo decided he wanted to be friends without the fake memories.

If Nico didn’t get back soon, they weren’t going to be patient enough to wait much longer. Christmas had come and gone, dinner at Sally’s had been the feast she promised. Paul and Percy had a long, semi serious conversation about a basketball team and something involving a charity…and still nothing. Jason had eaten thirds of everything and somehow knew this was the best feast he’d ever attended, and possibly the only one where he didn’t feel like an ornament. He was just another friend of Percy’s at the table, sitting across from a mortal with kind eyes and a ready smile. 

He felt like a ghost watching this perfect happy family while he nibbled on the best honeyed ham of his life. He’d more than once considered going out to eat on the balcony and just watch through the glass, but that felt like a cliche he’d just get laughed at for.

Sleeping in the big house wasn’t feeling any better. The occasional sounds of Chiron moving about or some Apollo kid showing up to the medical bay in the early hours to do inventory in there helped a lot same as it had when he’d slept under the ocean, but the feeling of misplacement never really left.

So he’d risked taking his first steps into Cabin One. It had been a waking nightmare.

The cold, the emptiness, the distant sounds of rolling thunder and every speck of light dancing off of lightning patterned into the columns and walls. It was a monolith to his current, empty feeling inside, and he backed out as quickly as possible to go find one of his friends. 

They were always easy enough to track down, he’d memorized the schedules much to Percy’s ever entertaining dumbstruck face. They were usually running around trying to do a few extra activities now to make up for their backlog later in a vain attempt to not fall behind. Percy’s mutterings about the worst winter break ever when someone asked him for a book report later weren’t unfounded, but he was never without a smile as he mucked out the pegasi’s stalls and Annabeth was laying down fresh hay.

Thalia had arrived by the time Percy had swerved the bus back into its proper parking spot Boxing Day. The great army of silver camo gear had been efficiently cleaning out Artemis’s cabin as they rushed up to the Big House to see her chatting with Chiron on the porch.

Iris messages still weren't working though. Percy had no way of getting a hold of Tyson or Grover, despite how much he was willing to get on Blackjack and just start scouring the country for them, Annabeth talked him out of it. Something of the speech about not enough donut shops in the country keeping Blackjack afloat must have gotten through.

Now, late evening still saw Jason sitting anxiously a top Cabin One to keep an eye out for Nico and Will coming back as the shadows grew longest, despite all of them reminding he wasn’t likely to come popping out of the shadows of that place when the two made their way back from their archery class. It wasn’t like it was their fault the rest of the kids had taken off running when Percy picked up the bow. It would be their own problem to attend the make-up meeting later.

Thalia's silver camo jacket made her stand out like a beacon of light as she leaned on the front porch of the Big House looking over the camp, patches of green hills or piles of snow wherever they were wanted; and more specifically, her eyes on the enormous tree at the top of the hill.

Annabeth came up beside her and put her arm through her sister's tightly wound grip. She smiled and relaxed a touch as she asked, "Percy?" He was currently climbing up beside Jason and tapping his pocket. She wondered vaguely what kind of curse would activate if he knocked a sheaf of roofing loose. They both knew he was offering another sword practice with him. They really needed Will back to referee those two soon or they’d need Nico and or ambrosia to end this unending battle.*

"I don't need him to tell me when you're not okay," she scoffed, resting her head on her shoulder.

They stood in silence for a long time, enough that Annabeth started shifting her weight with restless energy and the sun was starting to sink lower in the sky while Thalia hadn't moved a muscle, growing more still by the trickling light. The golden scales of Peleus's hide looked as if the tree were on fire from a distance.

"I used to blame myself for your death," Annabeth finally said, a catch in her voice. She didn't know how else to make Thalia start this conversation except cutting right to the heart. "If I hadn't been so small, so slow, if Luke hadn't carried me down here, he could have been back there helping you fight."

Thalia looked sharply down at her, a denial already on her tongue. Annabeth just smiled and pulled her head back, already nodding. "Those first months, I'd stand under those branches and cry, talk to you for hours and apologize. Luke figured out where I kept disappearing to, and he made sure I knew nobody could escape the furies once they had their target. That your sacrifice wasn't something to regret and resent, but something to be proud of."

She didn't speak, her face flushed red, but Annabeth could read the anger and betrayal still simmering under the surface of when he'd changed his mind about what that night meant.

"I don't know," Annabeth agreed. "I don't think there was an exact date I could mark on the calendar. I don't know when Kronos started whispering to him. I just wish you'd understand. You basically woke up from a nap and he was a totally different person, to you. To me, he was still the hero that was my everything for a long, long time Thalia. Between you and Percy constantly calling him the most evil being and acting like he and Kronos were one and the same, it hurts. Every time. I didn't know him like you did, as his equal, but you didn't know him like I did either, as my only family when you were gone."

Both Annabeth and Thalia had poured everything into Luke when she needed him most, and he'd taken it all in like a cup that would never fill. Her anger, her grief, her fear and exhaustion at everything the world had done to them in their short years on the streets. Luke had held her when she cried and made her laugh, he'd been her confidant and her first friend, best friend, and first love.

He'd been her first everything, and she'd thought she could get away with never crying over him?

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you for this," Annabeth said.

"You don't have to be," she said stiffly, but she didn't pull away. Something was shaking loose inside her, and it wasn't leaving room for much else.

"We're the same age now Thalia," Annabeth grinned, "you don't have to take care of me anymore. You don't have to protect me anymore. I want us to move on from this better for it."

Thalia coughed, and that was the start to the end. The feeling poured out of her and wouldn't stop, even as Annabeth pulled her close and she found her wet cheek and snotty nose pressed against her shoulder. "Me too," she promised, voice rough but meaning every crack. Being forced to relive every moment of Luke's betrayal with Percy had forced an understanding into her she'd never wanted. Luke hadn't been all good or all evil. He'd just been a person, who'd made bad choices, a path she could all too easily stumble upon if she didn't keep her toe in line and remind herself what she was capable of too. That styx-vow had saved her little brother’s life from that giant, and some part of her hoped it would even have eased her father’s paranoia that she didn’t want to be Luke next.

The conch rang for dinner, and the two untangled themselves to head for the stairs. Annabeth vaguely regretted  not being a Huntress for the first time as she kept wiping at her eyes but Thalia just cleared her throat and actually looked like nothing had happened.

Thalia had sat casually by her brother at the Zeus table and ignored the whispers as usual. Jason had come over to join her from Chiron’s table and was stirring his stew, nearly blackened and sluggish with how much pepper he’d put in, and looking around. “Should I ask if you’ve done something to Drew, or do I not want to know the answer?”

“Haven't done a thing to her,” she shrugged as she dumped half a container of salt in before stirring vigorously. “Girl can fight her own battle, if she has one to pick.”

“Then I think we should have Chiron make a formal announcement or something so I’ll stop getting, um, weird looks,” Jason said.

Thalia rolled her eyes, she couldn’t care less what crazy rumors people assumed about them both claiming to be children of Zeus at roughly the same age, but for his sake she agreed she’d ask Chiron to introduce them both tonight at their proper welcoming of the Huntress's.

Nico and Will finally showed up that night. Gods forbid the boy ever make a casual appearance in the middle of a sunny afternoon.

No, he had to wait until Jason was walking back up to the Big House to fall out from the shadows with Will and another girl in tow.

Jason barely startled, his hand had crept towards his coin on instinct before he dropped his fingers away and instead reached them out in excitement to pull his friends up.

Will gratefully took his hand and stretched, staring up at the dark moon with a look of mild disappointment.

Nico was helping someone up, who Jason had never met before. She had large, kind amber eyes and a puzzled smile underneath thick cinnamon hair, her skin was only a shade lighter than Nico’s.

She was like him. Jason stood thunderstruck as he saw the plain purple t-shirt and jeans Nico had somehow acquired for her.

“Jason, I want you to meet Hazel.” Nico said with one of those smiles that made him look like a pleased mad man. “I think you two are going to get along better than anyone else around here.”

HOOPJOHOOPJOHOOPJO

That’s it, for this. Reading chapters will continue in Where Do You Call Home Friday!

Have no fears, I’ve been building this up since they were all thrown off their regularly scheduled kidnappings, but the rest of the books are not going to be jumping the timeline, we’re done with that. The next four books will be purely reading and mysteries of the future to all!

*This chapter turned into a beast all its own and so I will show them having a sword fighting practice as an opening new day scene in the far-off future, but know that I am very anxiously awaiting posting my vision of them trying to cheerfully hack each other to pieces! 

[zorilleerrant]

Puzzling It Out

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Persenne puts the phone on speaker and sets it next to her puzzle. It seemed the thing to do, when she’s trying to figure out, well, this whole things. “Yeah, so my ex was standing outside on my front lawn again.”

“The creepy one? Or a new one again?” her best friend asks, and Persenne has to laugh, because. Why are people always setting her up with these hard cases?

“Same creepy ex, yeah,” Persenne says, and then finds a piece of the sky. Soothing, supposedly, to make pictures of the sky. She could use some soothing. “That’s not the strange part. The strange part is these two strangers showed up with him.”

“Oh, no, he’s got stooges now?”

Persenne runs her finger along an edge piece. “Always had, I think. No. These were completely unrelated people. They didn’t like him. I mean, I have to assume they didn’t like him. They were trying to kill him.” She snaps it into place.

“Did they win?”

“No. Or. I don’t think so, at least. Someone came to dig him out and stick him in an ambulance. So I think he was probably alive. That’s none of my business, anyway.” Persenne starts sorting things by color. Easier to get at it that way.

“Fans of yours? Or what were they doing there?”

“Not fans of mine. Or, well, maybe, I didn’t exactly talk to them, but they didn’t seem to know I was there. They really hated my ex. Like really really. Well, again, I’m guessing, because they were throwing all kinds of fucked up combat spells at him.” Persenne holds up two pieces trying to see if they’re the same color, and decides they are, even if they don’t quite fit together. In the same general area, at least.

“Oh, fancy, like some sort of assassin maybe?”

“I mean. It was a lot of magic. So I do assume a professional of some sort, but I don’t know. It felt personal to me. Not exes, I mean, but they seemed to have something against him, and it wasn’t about any of his businesses.” Persenne finds all four corners, lays them out, and wonders how off the size of the full puzzle she is. She’s always off by so much, and it doesn’t seem to be getting better as she practices. Everything else gets better, but not that.

“There’s a lot to have against him, that’s for sure. Personally, I can’t stand how he is at restaurants, always changing his mind halfway through an order, so like, consider: waitstaff. Or maybe a cashier from somewhere?”

“Well, I think it was projecting, actually,” Persenne says, and tries the first blue pile. The sky’s the hardest, so it’s either start there or end there – well, she’ll probably end up doing a little bit here and there, between. “They kept shouting about kids? I think this was an issue with their parents. Or one of their parents. It was the middle of the night, you know, so I couldn’t tell how similar they looked. I can’t even guess if or how they were related.”

“They knew each other, though? I do kind of think random people might band together over their hatred of him. That sounds likely, even.”

“One kept trying to talk the other one down for, I think, safety reasons, like not wanting to get in trouble. Not for his sake, obviously. So I think they were friends or family or maybe close coworkers or something. They did seem to agree they were both mad at him for being shitty with kids, and of course he kept defending himself.” Persenne tries every blue piece in rotation, and none of them fit. It must be one with the barest blue corner. Damn.

“Your kids? I wish you wouldn’t let him see them so much.”

“You and me both, sister, but the courts will have their way,” Persenne says, almost snapping her puzzle piece in half. “Anyway, yeah, probably my kids, because they did guess where to find him in the middle of the night, but it wasn’t strictly them, I don’t think. Again. I really think they were projecting about parents in general. I think they might even do this regularly. Like what if they have a hit list?”

“Ooh, like celebrity bad parents? They’re tracking down everyone who brags about being terrible parents on TV? Or is it just if they’re obviously terrible in public because I have to say, I’m not fond of the human shield thing.”

“Right? It must be something like that. It’s kind of sweet in a way, I think. They’re trying to protect celebrity children, I guess. I mean there are worse ways to cope with your childhood trauma, case in point, not that I regret my children.” Persenne finds her way along one entire edge, corner to corner, and yes, much smaller than she anticipated.

“I wonder who they’re going after next? Or do you think it was a one time thing. Like they lost the taste for it? I’d be kind of freaked out, honestly, not going to lie.”

Persenne considers, finding a handful of birds. They seem obvious, with the holes in the sky, but she has to rotate them to find where each one fits. “Yeah, the one of them seemed really freaked out. I think the other one might have done this before already, or was planning to do it for a long time, but the other one was pretty scared, so who knows?”

“Were you scared, though? I mean. It was right outside your window.”

“No. The kids were at a sleepover party, so it was just me, and they didn’t even look up. I was watching basically the whole time. If anything, I was worried I wouldn’t have any cookies or anything to give them if they did manage to kill him.” Persenne picks up an oddly colored piece. It’s either a misprint, or she can’t figure out where it fits in the image. Even looking at the front of the box tells her nothing. “It’s a shame they didn’t, really.”

“At least you get to laugh at him whining in his next interview, now.”

“There is that,” Persenne says, finally snapping the piece together with something that didn’t look like a gradient until now. “I do wish I knew who they were. I’d love to thank them.”

[simmingwormly]

Wormville: Rotation 11: Devir-Jilleni Children Update

The promised companion post to the gameplay update for this family! This one will contain teenagers in love. (I don't think there are any other content warnings. Except maybe for... the Beldines? Yeah. Contains the Beldines.)

Color sharing: Cedric - Iulius and Beatrice - Victor, otherwise everyone has their own this time around.

The round starts on Gina Jilleni, born in rotation 8, aging up to a teen! Just for completion's sake, her personality is 10/4/1/0/7 (that is some Jilleni personality if I've ever seen one!) and her traits are Insane, Light Sleeper, Shy and now Computer Wiz!

Her aspirations are Romance and Popularity! She does have a streak of business-minded in her, though, since the LTW she rolled is to have 5 successful businesses. It's no wonder, given how much the clothing store has influenced her family.

And a teenage birthday in Wormville traditionally means a party where all other teens from the village are invited, so the youngsters can get to know each other! Other than that, the Jillenis also invited their extended family.

Fabian Beldine, Gina's childhood friend, happens to fall into both of those categories.

"Is it true that your mom fought in the Temple?"

"Yeah. She's... you know. She's a really dramapilled fightmaxxer."

"I thought I'd say hi to her and uncle Vic, but they must've gone somewhere."

"They'll come back. Just don't go looking for them. Trust me. You don't wanna find them."

Yeah. She wouldn't want to find them.

(In the hot tub? In Beatrice's hot tub? During your niece's birthday party? You beasts.)

Let's just say the birthday party was a success. What's more, Gina wasn't the only one of the Jilleni children to grow up - little Xaive turned into a child soon after! This is her! I really like her looks, since it seems like she's a little more Bennett-y and less of a mini Beatrice (but you know how the joke goes, with those two, it's practically unrecognizable).

Her personality is 8/3/10/1/7 and her 3t2 traits are Angler, Genius and Loser. (which I personally find very inspiring) Her name, by the way, breaks the Jilleni pattern of vaguely Italian-sounding names, because she's actually named after one of my old Sims I had in TS4 when I played a really long legacy. I unfortunately don't have pictures of the original Xaive or anything more than a few storylines from the legacy archived, but I wanted to preserve her as a little reference.

This is Gina's reaction to seeing Xaive post age-up for the first time. In my honest opinion, she might be overreacting a bit.

Sophia (more on her later) rolls the want to learn a skill, so she tries her hand at painting, and discovers her new hobby!

She also lost her high poly custom hair privileges. It was an accident. I really like that hair, however it comes in so many swatches, and when reducing my cc pile, I deleted almost all of them and only kept one per all of the major hair colors. Sophia got a haircut out of it.

"Would you tell me how you and mom fell in love?"

"Well, we spent a lot of time together. Our parents lived in one big house, so we even used to share one room. And I've always adored your mom. She was my best friend. I've also always thought she was the most beautiful girl in the entire world."

"I wish someone thought I was the most beautiful."

"One day, someone definitely will."

"But when? Not soon, I bet."

"You are a little too young."

"I bet I could get a boyfriend if I borrowed mom's or Hannah's makeup."

"Do you want to wear makeup, or do you just want your classmates to notice you more?"

"I... dunno. Does every girl wear makeup?"

"No, they don't."

"And do boys? Do you wear makeup? I sometimes think you do!"

"That's because I do! But just a little. I like looking nice. But you can look nice even without makeup. Maybe you can ask mom or Hannah later. They can show you how it's done. But don't... stress over it. You're beautiful the way you are, and you can just be yourself and have fun. Boys will start to notice you anyway. I bet girls, too!"

"I'd like girls to notice me! I have a crush on a girl, but I won't tell you, because it's a secret!"

Little Sophia might be too young to worry about dating, but her older sister, a teenager - and a Romance Sim to boot! - thinks of little else these days. She keeps returning to her birthday party, and the moment she danced with Cedric Anora. Maybe she can try hanging out with him after school?

When she finds him, he's playing soccer with his sibling. He does everything with his sibling. Gina secretly hopes Deborah won't want to tag along, but if they do, at least she'll befriend them, too!

"Wow. You surely can play!"

"Right? I thought of turning pro, but nah, I want to work with my brains."

"Yeah, right. Me too. But I still like working out."

"And do you like playing soccer?"

"Yea- no? I mean, I don't know. Never done it, to be honest."

"Then go put your workout clothes on! I'll teach you!"

"So, this is the ball. What you do with it? You kick it!"

"I think I knew that part."

"I'm back!"

"How was the shower?"

"I feel like a person again. Thank you for waiting for me."

"No problem. I really enjoyed the game."

"Yeah, me too. And I..."

"Well, I was thinking-"

"I was wondering-"

"Would you like to go somewhere?"

I interrupt this report with Gina gossiping about... Broomer, Nico's cat.

"I've heard he likes chin scritches."

"No way. That's hardcore!"

Gina and Cedric decide to catch a bus and go on a trip Downtown that offers a park that is a little more grown-up that Wormville's playground and a little less "untamed wilderness" than the untamed wilderness that surrounds their village. (and much less under the noses of their parents than any of the nature-y holy sites of Wormville)

It's a place where they can continue trading stories about the weirdos in their family tree.

"Yeah. Aunt Aranni's really crazy. I've heard she was a... dramapilled fightmaxxer."

"Okay, Fabian."

"C'mon! I grew up with him! Stop laughing!"

"You stop laughing!"

"Now- you're- laughing more!"

"Noooo- stop tickling meee!"

"Don't worry about it, though. I have crazier family members. Iulius tore down his house and is building a fucking prison."

"Holy shit, for real?"

"Yeah. For real."

"Like, I know that he bulldozed his house and that they're building something new, I mean, we live next door, but a prison? Wow."

"The guy's cooked."

"No kidding. Wait. You're related?"

"Unfortunately. He's my sperm donor. Doesn't really deserve to be called 'father'."

"I see. Did he... dump your mom?"

"Yeah. Right when she told him she was pregnant."

"What a dickhead!"

"Right?"

Speaking of said dickhead, unbeknownst to the two, Iulius was just at the other side of the very same park. Having problems in his marriage and even more problems with the stressful building process, the guardsman decided to unwind. Unwind in the manly way! He collected "the boys" (the only male relatives that are on speaking terms with him - Victor and Fabian Beldine) and took them break some sweat.

Unfortunately, the sportiest activity he got the Beldines to agree to was darts.

"That would be the end of this match! A resolute victory for yours truly! Fabian, close second! Are you alright, Sergeant? One would've expected a professional soldier to have a steadier aim."

"I was letting you win, so you can grow your confidence."

"Ah, I see. Maybe next time I could play with my glasses off?"

"And I can just close my eyes. So... you don't have to keep letting us win."

"Exactly. We need to be considerate to our troops."

"Keep making fun of me, you two! I lost, because I was distracted."

"By what?"

"Watching the perimeter, keeping you safe!"

They continue playing, since Iulius insists on a rematch, but soon, a different family arrives.

"Well, well, well... fancy meeting you here, Zachary!"

Iulius, thinking, "it's not gay if he's wearing a corset it's not gay if he's wearing a corset it's not..."

Surprisingly, Victor and Zachary don't end up fighting.

Zachary cries for reasons that are Victor-related, but have nothing to do with this encounter.

(Victor actually ends up exchanging slaps with old Agatha who accosts him, but that's one Jilleni-unrelated screenshot too many.)

Fabian, that's starting to be a pattern.

Both Gina and Cedric actually roll the fear of using the public toilets, which is something they unfortunately both end up doing. Gina takes it a step further and she pulls out the cleaning supplies before sitting on that thing.

That luckily doesn't put a hamper on the vibe. Gina and Cedric both end up leaving for Wormville ending the date on their first kiss and establishing each other as their girlfriend/boyfriend. (the best screenshot from that is what I used as the "thumbnail" of this post)

Home, things aren't that peachy. Tension and conflicts between Felicia and Hannah affect the children deeply, especially little Naomi, who doesn't want her moms to stop loving one another and decides to help them with the use of a clever book. She is ultimately bound to fail, but let's not dwell on that in this post.

"Ben... Let's talk."

"Is it about Feli and Hannah?"

"No, actually... it's the baby."

"Oh... is something wrong, love?"

"No - I mean, it might be."

"Okay, tell me. I'm here for you."

"The baby might not be yours. Or Felicia's. It could be someone's completely different, and I have no clue who. I didn't even register when the accident happened, I just noticed that I was pregnant again and-"

"Shh, it's alright. It's alright. It doesn't matter whose it is biologically. Naomi isn't genetically ours either, and she's still one of our girls, right?"

"Yes... I was just... worried. You really don't mind?"

"I will be praying the baby is mine - or at least Feli's - just because it's... I guess more comfortable to think about? But if it turns out it isn't, life goes on. And I'll love them anyway."

Soon after that conversation, the child gets born. Sophia is over the moon to have a new sister!

And this is baby Ida. She's Stubborn, Friendly, and her personality points are 8/1/8/2/10!

Just from a look at her face, the mystery of her parentage was solved, but a paternity test was done anyway, just to be sure. It turns out that by a sheer power of luck (and also Beatrice being naturally more careful with her casual lovers and clients than with her partners at home), little Ida's father is Bennett Jilleni after all!

(And outside of universe, I am putting Bea and Ben on contraception - I thought I've already done so after Xaive, but evidently not, and they don't need a fifth child. Bea's LTW of having 6 grandkids is still more than likely to come true with four of them.)

Naomi stops her cousin Winter on the street and promotes the new clothing store.

After Hannah's death, everybody is uneasy. Little Xaive wakes up in the middle of the night, having a nightmare about Genevieve Celwitch. To be honest, many such cases.

"Hello, Gina. Is your mother available?"

"Sorry, she's not. Want me to give her a message?"

"No, that is not necessary. I just wanted to speak to her to check how she was holding up, but I am glad to have reached you, too. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm... fine, I guess. It's a lot..."

"I believe so. Death is always horrid to bear, not to mention that of your parent figure."

"Uhm... But the girls are taking it worse than me."

"Naturally. You are the oldest, you might feel obligated to be strong for them. You don't actually have to - it is not your job."

"Sorry. I don't really want to talk about it right now."

"I see. Well, hold on tight. Give my regards to your sisters, to your mother, and to Bennett. And if you all wanted to come for a visit, the doors of the Splat are always open to you."

"Thank you, uncle Vic. Goodbye."

(Victor actually called Gina - they're very close, since she spent more than a week with the Beldines on a family vacation in rotation 10, that's also when she befriended Fabian.)

And last but not least, another teenager joins the fray! This is Sophia Jilleni! Just for a quick revision, she was born in rotation 9, her personality is 10/5/4/2/8 and her traits are Evil, Clumsy, Perceptive and Heavy Sleeper.

She's now a Fortune/Family Sim, and her LTW is to succeed in the Showbiz career.

...and yes, those are Hannah's glasses.