#im always writing more

[starkspi]

From "Managerial Liberties" on AO3 by @miribalis (where they collect fallen angels like shiny Pokémon at the hotel), it makes me really happy (and has my heart).

[sugarcoatednightshade]

thinking about how Humans Are Space Orcs stories always talk about how indestructible humans are, our endurance, our ability to withstand common poisons, etc. and thats all well and good, its really fun to read, but it gets repetitive after a while because we aren't all like that.

And that got me thinking about why this trope is so common in the first place, and the conclusion I came to is actually kind of obvious if you think about it. Not everyone is allowed to go into space. This is true now, with the number of physical restrictions placed on astronauts (including height limits), but I imagine it's just as strict in some imaginary future where humans are first coming into contact with alien species. Because in that case there will definitely be military personnel alongside any possible diplomatic parties.

And I imagine that all interactions aliens have ever had up until this point have been with trained personnel. Even basic military troops conform to this standard, to some degree. So aliens meet us and they're shocked and horrified to discover that we have no obvious weaknesses, we're all either crazy smart or crazy strong (still always a little crazy, academia and war will do that to you), and not only that but we like, literally all the same height so there's no way to tell any of us apart.

And Humans Are Death Worlders stories spread throughout the galaxy. Years or decades or centuries of interspecies suspicion and hostilities preventing any alien from setting foot/claw/limb/appendage/etc. on Earth until slowly more beings are allowed to come through. And not just diplomats who keep to government buildings, but tourists. Exchange students. Temporary visitors granted permission to go wherever they please, so they go out in search of 'real terran culture' and what do they find?

Humans with innate heart defects that prevent them from drinking caffeine. Humans with chronic pain and chronic fatigue who lack the boundless endurance humans are supposedly famous for. Humans too tall or too short or too fat to be allowed into space. Humans who are so scared of the world they need to take pills just to function. Humans with IBS who can't stand spicy foods, capsaicin really is poison to them. Lactose intolerance and celiac disease, my god all the autoimmune disorders out there, humans who struggle to function because their own bodies fight them. Humans who bruise easily and take too long to heal. Humans who sustained one too many concussions and now struggle to talk and read and write. Humans who've had strokes. Humans who were born unable to talk or hear or speak, and humans who through some accident lost that ability later.

Aliens visit Earth, and do you know what they find? Humanity, in all its wholeness.

[wazzi2ya]

Alastor: *Starts coughing uncontrollably*

Charlie: Oh gosh, Al! Are you alright? Do you need CPR?! Oh shit, oh shit, what do I do—

Alastor: *Chokes, then spits out a huge white feather*

Charlie: ...

Alastor: ...

Charlie: ...Is that—

Alastor, panicking: I ATE A SEAGULL.

*Later at the bar*

Husk, who saw everything: So, you like the beach?

Lucifer: Oh, yeah. Why?

Husk: No reason in particular.

[teh-inggris]

I need to chew both of them like a stress toy

[wasyago]

i imagine it's quite chilly in the black sea (for the lack of sun and color), so they're wearing slightly warmer clothes now uwu

+ thoughts

[softartemisart]

temple to a god of hedonism that gradually changes those inside to best live lives of pleasure and feasting

if you visit once, and stay for only a few minutes, you might get out with only a little extra softness on your frame, easy enough to work off. if you stay for much longer, well...

theres a growing hunger in your stomach, despite not eating that long ago. but it's a temple to a god of parties and feasting - there's plenty of food available. the dishes only seem to grow more aromatic the longer you stand near them and, when you cave and try a mouthful, it's unbelievably delicious.

you're so taken with the taste, you don't notice what's happening to your body. your stomach bloats from your gorging, and then softens into a wobbling belly that tests the durability of your clothes, hanging lower and lower towards your thick thighs. leaning over the table for another plate, your ass sticks out behind you, round and cellulite-ridden. your figure is soft, swelling, a picture of indulgence.

and it's not long before the servants of this god come and show you another kind of pleasure. warm hands make contact with sensitive skin and you moan through mouthfuls of rich food. they guide you to a soft chair, lean you back, make sure your every want in this moment is fulfilled. one continues to feed you all manner of decadent desserts. several more attend to your body, removing the remains of the constricting clothes you entered in and then kissing, massaging, rubbing every growing, jiggling inch of you. your chest is squeezed, nipples toyed with. your gut is oiled and played with. once they're done teasing you, one hefts the blubbery mass up while another finally reaches between your legs.

the next day, you wake up in one of their luxurious beds, the most well rested you've ever been. you're free to leave, of course. but as the heavenly smell of breakfast finds your nose, you also notice the new set of temple robes at the end of your bed, inviting you to join their ranks

[basaltbutch]

sorry not sorry but the height of romance in my opinion is sharing someone else's body with them. let me curl up in your brain i want to be lulled to sleep by the rhythms of your body and the sounds of blood whooshing through your veins. i want to take shelter in your body. does this make sense.

disclaimer: this post is about erotic cannibalism and being a symbiotic parasite and gay t4t sex.

[nordidia]

having a very rough night so raph doodles needed to be made

when in need, mash two interests together

[mamawasatesttube]

my toxic trait is that every time i have a fic idea that doesn't involve kon, my brain immediately goes "but wouldn't it be even better if kon was there??" and i mean it's right. every time. thus is the curse of having a favorite character

[suja-janee]

what are your thoughts on Harumi x Kuai Liang (I need to see them in your art style)

To be completely honest with you, I’m still neutral to them- but he looked pretty happy in the recent trailers!

[fatedroses]

Two former military elites taking merc jobs perform absolutely hellish battle tactics together.

[v-i-r-i-d-i-a-n]

“Dustin, Lucas, they’re great but- It’s-it’s Hawkins, it’s not the same without you.”

“Mom, Dustin, Lucas, they all treat me like I’m gonna break. Like I’m a baby.”

“I didn’t say it.” “You didn’t have to.”

“YOU NEVER SAY IT!” “I say it.”

“Looks like it’s gonna be up to us again.” “It always is isn’t it?”

“He’ll come crawling back begging for your forgiveness.”

“WILL! IM SORRY MAN!”

“Like we’re in love- you don’t love me?” “It’s bullshit.”

“Care. So you don’t love me anymore?” “Who said that I didn’t?!”

That’s it that’s the post

[ganondoodle]

carefully attempted to draw (still sick); wanted to give Shargon another redesign, this is an older version of him but the basics should also go for his younger self (idk yet about his lung replacement design; arms are posed weird to make anatomy clearer)

(wip, oc art, Shargon, he/they)

[klanced]

when adam met 11yo keith he immediately knew that keith was gay and was like i have GOT to support this kid!! (runs into traffic) meanwhile shiro spent years operating under the assumption that keith had like a gender thing going on

[reineydraws]

Hi hi! For the spotify wrapped art game, can I suggest akataka with 56?

oh, i think i was doomed before i began

56 is special girl by dodie. a particular fave, so im glad u chose mishanks for it since they've been on my mind. :')

wrapped 2023 game

[lost-in-fandoms]

cw: mentions of blood and animal death (of the hunting variety)

Daniel raises his knife, muscles tense as he listens to the rustling between the trees growing louder.

He's not far from home, he was just checking on his traps, but he's not going back until he knows what's moving in the woods.

He takes half a step back towards a tree, to cover his back, eyes flicking towards the sky as some spooked birds take flight. He can hear someone screaming further away.

Then suddenly the sound of frantic running becomes clearer, sticks breaking and undergrowth snapping, and a second later someone is tumbling into the small clearing, tripping over the bag Daniel had left a few steps away and tumbling to the ground.

Daniel doesn't know what he was expecting, but for sure not this.

It's a boy.

It's hard to figure out his age, both because of how dirty he is and because of how he's still scrambling to get back up, struggling to find his legs, but he must be younger than Daniel for sure.

Daniel lowers his knife and takes a step forward, wanting to give him a hand, but the boy lets out a small growl, stopping his apparently fruitless attempts of standing back up and crouching instead, one leg awkwardly bent, clearly hurt.

"Hey, calm down, I'm not going to hurt you," Daniel says, using the same tone of voice he uses for his horse and scared animals. He doesn't want to put away his knife, doesn't know if this guy will be dangerous after all, but he tries to at least appear less threatening, making himself smaller.

It seems to work, because the boy shifts again, now kneeling instead of crouching, hazy blue eyes gazing up pleadingly. He looks like a supplicant at church, and Daniel isn't surprised when he starts begging.

"Please," he says, voice scratchy and weirdly accented, exhaustion clear in every syllable, "they will...please."

Daniel doesn't know what is going on, but he can still hear screaming somewhere in the woods, can see the boy flinching with it, and he understands enough.

"They're looking for you?" he asks, eyes going from the boy to the woods and back again.

The boy nods, mouthing please once again, no sound to accompany the way he shivers.

Daniel doesn't know if he'll come to regret this decision, but he's not going to leave someone scared and exhausted in the woods, not when he can help. And if the guy decides to attack him, Daniel is pretty sure he'll be able to fend him off. He looks skin and bones.

"My house is straight down that way, the door is open. Go in and close it behind you."

For a second the boy doesn't move, looking at him like he doesn't understand, and Daniel just has the time to start wondering if maybe he really doesn't, maybe doesn't speak this language, before he's clumsily pushing to his feet and running away.

The sounds of the pursuers are growing closer, so Daniel doesn't waste any time, dragging his boot across leaves and mud to hide any traces of the boy falling there and then running away.

He grabs his bag again, then moves away from the clearing, towards the people he can hear approaching.

He's glad he didn't hesitate more, because he's just a few steps away when a group of men bursts through the trees, carrying swords, bows and a lit torch.

They all stop when they see Daniel, but they don't raise their arms. Daniel recognises one of them from a nearby village he sometimes goes to when he needs to buy something.

"You're scaring my food, gentlemen," he says, hoping he sounds as normal as possible. He doubts any of them knows how he normally sounds anyway.

"We're looking for someone," one of the men rushes on, fully ignoring what Daniel said. Rude.

"About this height, looks a bit like a feral animal," adds another, the one with the torch. Danie doesn't like the free fire in his part of the forest and the boy did not look like a feral animal, just like a scared kid, so he doesn't feel particularly moved into helping.

"The only feral animals I've seen are the ones in my bag," Daniel replies, plucking a dead rabbit out of his bag by the ears.

The men look at each other, clearly not believing him, but also eager to just keep going, with or without his help.

"He's dangerous," the one with the sword finally says, "cursed."

Daniel doesn't know if as a warning or if to encourage him to rat the boy out. Daniel refuses to react.

"Well, good luck with your search, then! Thank you for keeping the people safe, and all that."

The man with the torch glares at him, clearly not amused by Daniel's levity, but Daniel just smiles. He doesn't move from his spot as the men grumbles among themselves about which direction to take, but waves when they start running again, slightly more east than Daniel's house.

He waits until he can't hear them anymore, then heads home.

--

When he is in front of his door he pauses. He doesn't want to get inside with his knife out, and the kid looked more scared than dangerous, but he can still hear the man's voice when he had said cursed, like he truly believed it. And it's not a guarantee, people will believe in anyway, he would know, but usually underneath those stories there are slivers of truth.

He still puts the knife away.

When he gets inside everything looks unchanged, enough for him to wonder if the boy just ran off.

"Hey, it's just me," he calls out, just in case. If the boy isn't there nobody will hear him embarrass himself anyway.

For a second nothing changes, but then a shadow near the fireplace moves, and the boy uncurls from his hiding place next to the firewood.

Now that they're no longer among the trees, he looks even worse. There's mud and leaves in his hair and on his clothes, a dark smudge next to his nose. There are several red scratches on his face, and his clothes don't seem to be in a much better condition. He's still holding his leg weirdly.

"Are they gone?" he asks, voice even raspier than earlier. Daniel can see how dry and cracked his lips are, and resolves to get him some water as soon as he's sure he's not going to get killed.

"Seemed to be going towards the river," he nods, pointing east. Then, cutting to the chase, "they said something about you."

He watches the boy flinch, back going rigid, hands splaying on the floor as if he's readying himself to push to his feet and run.

"Are you going to kill me?" Daniel doesn't care about curses, not at the moment at least, but he does care about his life. Mostly.

The boy looks surprised by the question, but shakes his head.

"Have you killed someone?" Daniel asks again, just to make sure.

There is something there, a shift in the guy's expression, but he still shakes his head. Good enough.

Daniel walk towards the table, dropping his bag and his knife, before going to wash his hands. He can feel the boy's eyes on him the whole time, so he's not surprised to find him staring at him when he turns back towards him.

"Is your leg hurt?"

The boy hesitates, probably considering if it is worth to give Daniel a point of weakness just to get some help, but then he nods. He rolls up his pants to show deep puncture wounds, still bleeding.

Daniel hisses, not knowing how the boy was able to not only stand, but run on that. That looks nasty. It looks like a...

"Wolf trap?"

The boy flinches again, and Daniel can see his hands shake. Must be a yes.

"Okay, I'm gonna help you with that, and then we're going to eat, and then you can decide if you want to stay in my amazing company, or if you want to leave. That good for you?"

There is another long pause. The boy seems to have some difficulty processing all those words, even if Daniel doesn't know if there is a language barrier or if it's just the blood loss, but finally he nods, dragging himself slightly further away from his hiding corner.

He extends a hand, looking almost shy, but Daniel has no problem filling the distance separating them and helping him up, watching as his face contorts in pain but no sound escapes his lips.

"I'm Daniel," he says as he helps him towards one of the chairs.

The boy waits until he's taken a couple full breaths after seating before answering.

"Max."

"Well, Max, I'm gonna fix you up, and then I'm gonna change our plans and offer you a bath instead," Daniel says, looking up from where he is grabbing some supplies to grin at Max. "You stink."

For a moment, it looks like Max won't react, the joke falling flat, but then the corner of his lip turns up, his eyes growing slightly less glassy.

"You too," he replies.

It's not much of a joke, but Daniel rewards him with a laugh anyway. Max's small, pleased smile, feels more like a blessing than a curse.