#so a lot of why i'm so attached to it is on that level | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bunji-enthusiast · 3 months

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ahhhhh, im.not the one who requested it buy I love the oneshot about catnap with the child he took care of after the hour of joy because of the kitty thing. Even though I'm not the one who requested it, is it possible I can request something in the same premise of it. Where catnap after taking care of the child for a long time is starting to run out of the food reserves the factory had, and he has to find other ways to feed them. Through feeding them like how he feeds the smiling critters in the playhouse on "meat" from you know who, or forcing the child to leave so they have a chance to find food. But catnap being catnap wants to keep her there despite so decides on the first choice, even though he had let the child get attached to dogday.

(I'm sorry this may show up on your ask box twice I ment to not send this anonymously but I did by accident so I wanted to correct that, anyways thank you for your absolutely amazing writing remember to take breaks when you need to and stay amazing❤️)

Seeker

Note || awe, no worries. Happy to see you in!

WC || 1,034

Sypnosis || emotions are scarce, food is too. It seems factory is getting to everyone, CatNap is left with unprecedented levels of risks.

The conditions of the environment were no doubt not very liveable ones, so he had tried his best to adapt to the conditions so that you may be able to live in his room comfortably or even walk anywhere else in Playcare. Even beyond the whole place in any case, he just wasn’t sure what to do anymore. CatNap was at an odds end within himself at deciding what to do, what would be best for you.

Should he force you to leave the factory in hopes you find food? No, you’d just get lost and scared, no doubt manhandled by an incompetent people that may pass you by in the process. You were just a kid, lonely and in need of companionship and being surrounded by people you could truly trust.

Though the colorful disposition and creepy toys in this place far proved the idea he needed to keep you safer more often. Knowing that you may as well get attached to some of the other toys you come across, CatNap was admittedly worried.

You were often inquisitive, curious to find everything your attention was captured by. That wasn’t of any good in his honest opinion, but he had to remain with a steady and cool head. So that when it may be, he can take care of you more properly.

CatNap didn’t want you to leave, he had become far too accustomed to your presence. Hearing your joyful laughs and giggles, staying so hopeful and strong in your own unique way. You certainly brought on a joyful aspect to his lonely life, even with all the others he had punished for being heretics.

DogDay, oh yes, he had to take some chunks from him. That was the last thing he wanted to do with all that has been said and done. But he truly had no other option, but his worst thought being as how you began to get attached to DogDay.

In retrospect however, he will admit that you can be cute and quite charming for just being a child at most.

“Mr…” You began, the crayon stilling to a stop. DogDay perked his head up, though the effort to move is indeed extraneous on his war-torn body (both literally and figuratively). “Hm, sweetheart?” He spoke out, his voice spooking you a little bit as he hadn’t spoken very often. You didn’t expect him to actually answer you or at all for that matter, but DogDay seemed kind to you. You wanted to get to know him at least, but to him, he was slight afraid – on your behalf, you didn’t know better on a lot of things. Especially the vying point is how his legs had been taken from him, most of it being fed to the smaller toy versions of the smiling critters and you too. Did you even know what you were eating?

You hesitantly stood up, leaving your paper and crayon to abandon. “Why are you chained up like that?” You asked with a tinge of nervousness, almost afraid as if you were going to incur some sort of angry emotion from the large dog. If he could truly move his own gaping black mouth, he would’ve been frowning right now. DogDay was concerned for you, as to why you were put in this situation.

“I am… just not a very good person, sweetheart.” His gentle tone carried an aura reminiscent of a father if you ever heard one. Your eyes were wide with curiosity, knowing it was okay to continue speaking with him the way you were. “But, you don’t look bad to me. You're even nice to me!” Your innocent tone had brought back a fragmented memory for DogDay, he chuckled with a warm spell about the air.

DogDay let out an audible sigh, “Not all things are as they seem, CatNap included.” His words incited a bout of curiosity in the flames of your stomach. Now this was something you needed to understand, “Stretchy kitty?” DogDay nodded, a chuckle escaping him once more. You simply were the cutest thing he had seen in a long while.

“I.. would say he’s not, kind or gentle as you would think him to be.” DogDay was nervous, irradiated by a different presence he had quickly taken notice of, but had continued on anyway. “CatNap, had uh, punished me Sweetheart. Wasn’t nice to his god.”

‘God?’ you thought, “what is that Mr?” You spoke out in reply, sitting down and closer next to him then you were previously. You were rather oblivious to the presence of such an omniscient aura, menacing enough to be sure. DogDay wasn’t sure how to explain the term finely, but you were curious, wanting to satiate that curiosity by always asking questions.

You deserved to have every single one of them answered, no matter how silly they may seem. DogDay had hoped the best for you, he had gotten rather attached to you. In spite of CatNap’s many warnings to not talk to you or even glance in your direction, not wanting him to bore your head with lies and spiteful attempts to turn you against him in any way possible. Well, DogDay had felt quite an intense hatred against CatNap right at this very moment, and found the courage to move on forward with his words. No matter what may happen to him, “God is uh, let’s say a very inspirational person… powerful even. But he can be a hypocrite too.” He nodded, tilting his head as if he was speaking through his movements.

“Sweetheart, you follow your own heart alright?” DogDay spoke hopefully, hoping to see that his words had gotten to you a little bit. “Never let anyone tell you otherwise.” You nodded with a fire in your eyes he hadn’t expected from you, but this a youthful you, easily impressionable and inspired. DogDay will forever be hopeful for you, and grateful he ever had gotten to speak to you in the past few days anyway.

A distant crying was unheard of, a lonely digressable cat, heart heavy and hurt. He began to cry silently, tears are there yet there are none.

I’ll shelter and adore you more than anything.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #x reader #catnap x reader #catnap poppy playtime #catnap #child!reader #dogday poppy playtime

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cy-cyborg · 11 days

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Dealing with Healing and Disability in fantasy: Writing Disability

[ID: An image of the main character from Eragon, a white teenage boy with blond hair in silver armour as he sits, with his hand outstretched. On his hand is a glowing blue mark. He is visibly straining as he attempts to heal a large creature in front of him. /End ID]

I'm a massive fan of the fantasy genre, which is why it's so incredibly frustrating when I see so much resistance to adding disability representation to fantasy works. People's go-to reason for leaving us out is usually something to the effect of "But my setting has magic so disability wouldn't exist, it can just be healed!" so let's talk about magic, specifically healing magic, in these settings, and how you can use it without erasing disability from your story.

Ok, let's start with why you would even want to avoid erasing disability from a setting in the first place. I talked about this in a lot more detail in my post on The Miracle Cure. this line of thinking is another version of this trope, but applied to a whole setting (or at least, to the majority of people in the setting) instead of an individual, so it's going to run into the same issues I discussed there. To summarise the points that are relevant to this particular version of the trope though:

Not every disabled person wants or needs a cure - many of us see our disability as a part of our identity. Do difficulties come with being disabled? absolutely! It's literally part of the definition, but for some people in the disabled community, if you took our disabilities away, we would be entirely different people. While it is far from universal, there is a significant number of us who, if given a magical cure with no strings attached, would not take it. Saying no one in your setting would be disabled because these healing spells exists ignores this part of the community.

It messes with the stakes of your story - Just like how resurrecting characters or showing that this is something that is indeed possible in the setting can leave your audience feeling cheated or like they don't have to worry about a character *actually* ever dying. healing a character's disability, or establishing that disability doesn't exist in your setting because "magic" runs into the same problem. It will leave your readers or viewers feeling like they don't have to worry about your characters getting seriously hurt because it will only be temporary, which means your hero's actions carry significantly less risk, which in turn, lowers the stakes and tension if not handled very, very carefully.

It's an over-used trope - quite plainly and simply, this trope shows up a lot in the fantasy genre, to the point where I'd say it's just overused and kind of boring.

So with the "why should you avoid it" covered, let's look at how you can actually handle the topic.

Limited Access and Expensive Costs

One of the most common ways to deal with healing and disability in a fantasy setting, is to make the healing magic available, but inaccessible to most of the population. The most popular way to do that is by making the services of a magical healer capable of curing a disability really expensive to the point that most people just can't afford it. If this is the approach you're going to use, you also typically have to make that type of magic quite rare. To use D&D terms, if every first level sorcerer, bard, cleric and druid can heal a spinal injury, it's going to result in a lot of people who are able to undercut those massive prices and the expense will drop as demand goes down. If that last sentence didn't give you a hint, this is really popular method in stories that are critiquing capitalistic mindsets and ideologies, and is most commonly used by authors from the USA and other countries with a similar medical system, since it mirrors a lot of the difficulties faced by disabled Americans. If done right, this approach can be very effective, but it does need to be thought through more carefully than I think people tend to do. Mainly because a lot of fantasy stories end with the main character becoming rich and/or powerful, and so these prohibitively expensive cure become attainable by the story's end, which a lot of authors and writer's just never address. Of course, another approach is to make the availability of the magic itself the barrier. Maybe there just aren't that many people around who know the magic required for that kind of healing, so even without a prohibitive price tag, it's just not something that's an option for most people. If we're looking at a D&D-type setting, maybe you need to be an exceptionally high level to cast the more powerful healing spell, or maybe the spell requires some rare or lost material component. I'd personally advise people to be careful using this approach, since it often leads to stories centred around finding a miracle cure, which then just falls back into that trope more often than not.

Just outright state that some characters don't want/need it

Another, admittedly more direct approach, is to make it that these "cures" exist and are easily attainable, but to just make it that your character or others they encounter don't want or need it. This approach works best for characters who are born with their disabilities or who already had them for a long time before a cure was made available to them. Even within those groups though, this method works better with some types of characters than others depending on many other traits (personality, cultural beliefs, etc), and isn't really a one-size-fits-all solution, but to be fair, that's kind of the point. Some people will want a cure for their disabilities, others are content with their body's the way they are. There's a few caveats I have with this kind of approach though:

you want to make sure you, as the author, understand why some people in real life don't want a cure, and not just in a "yeah I know these people exist but I don't really get it" kind of way. I'm not saying you have to have a deep, personal understanding or anything, but some degree of understanding is required unless you want to sound like one of those "inspirational" body positivity posts that used to show up on Instagram back in the day.

Be wary when using cultural beliefs as a reasoning. It can work, but when media uses cultural beliefs as a reason for turning down some kind of cure, it's often intending to critique extreme beliefs about medicine, such as the ones seen in some New Age Spirituality groups and particularly intense Christian churches. As a general rule of thumb, it's probably not a good idea to connect these kinds of beliefs to disabled people just being happy in their bodies. Alternatively, you also need to be mindful of the "stuck in time" trope - a trope about indigenous people who are depicted as primitive or, as the name suggests, stuck in an earlier time, for "spurning the ways of the white man" which usually includes medicine or the setting's equivalent magic. I'm not the best person to advise you on how to avoid this specific trope, but my partner (who's Taino) has informed me of how often it shows up in fantasy specifically and we both thought it was worth including a warning at least so creators who are interested in this method know to do some further research.

Give the "cures" long-lasting side effects

Often in the real world, when a "cure" for a disability does exist, it's not a perfect solution and comes with a lot of side effects. For example, if you loose part of your arm in an accident, but you're able to get to a hospital quickly with said severed arm, it can sometimes be reattached, but doing so comes at a cost. Most people I know who had this done had a lot of issues with nerve damage, reduced strength, reduced fine-motor control and often a great deal of pain with no clear source. Two of the people I know who's limbs were saved ended up having them optionally re-amputated only a few years later. Likewise, I know many people who are paraplegics and quadriplegics via spinal injuries, who were able to regain the use of their arms and/or legs. However, the process was not an easy one, and involved years of intense physiotherapy and strength training. For some of them, they need to continue to do this work permanently just to maintain use of the effected limbs, so much so that it impacts their ability to do things like work a full-time job and engage in their hobbies regularly, and even then, none of them will be able bodied again. Even with all that work, they all still experience reduced strength and reduced control of the limbs. depending on the type, place and severity of the injury, some people are able to get back to "almost able bodied" again - such was the case for my childhood best friend's dad, but they often still have to deal with chronic pain from the injury or chronic fatigue.

Even though we are talking about magic in a fantasy setting, we can still look to real-life examples of "cures" to get ideas. Perhaps the magic used has a similar side effect. Yes, your paraplegic character can be "cured" enough to walk again, but the magic maintaining the spell needs a power source to keep it going, so it draws on the person's innate energy within their body, using the very energy the body needs to function and do things like move their limbs. They are cured, but constantly exhausted unless they're very careful, and if the spell is especially strong, the body might struggle to move at all, resulting in something that looks and functions similar to the nerve damage folks with spinal injuries sometimes deal with that causes that muscle weakness and motor control issues. Your amputee might be able to have their leg regrown, but it will always be slightly off. The regrown leg is weaker and causes them to walk with a limp, maybe even requiring them to use a cane or other mobility aid.

Some characters might decide these trade-offs are worth it, and while this cures their initial disability, it leaves them with another. Others might simply decide the initial disability is less trouble than these side effects, and choose to stay as they are.

Consider if these are actually cures

Speaking of looking to the real world for ideas, you might also want to consider whether these cures are doing what the people peddling them are claiming they do. Let's look at the so-called autism cures that spring up every couple of months as an example.

Without getting into the… hotly debated specifics, there are many therapies that are often labelled as "cures" for autism, but in reality, all they are doing is teaching autistic people how to make their autistic traits less noticeable to others. This is called masking, and it's a skill that often comes at great cost to an autistic person's mental health, especially when it's a behaviour that is forced on them. Many of these therapies give the appearance of being a cure, but the disability is still there, as are the needs and difficulties that come with it, they're just hidden away. From an outside perspective though, it often does look like a success, at least in the short-term. Then there are the entirely fake cures with no basis in reality, the things you'll find from your classic snake-oil salesmen. Even in a fantasy setting where real magic exists, these kinds of scams and misleading treatments can still exist. In fact, I think it would make them even more common than they are in the real world, since there's less suspension of disbelief required for people to fall for them. "What do you mean this miracle tonic is a scam? Phil next door can conjure flames in his hand and make the plants grow with a snap of his fingers, why is it so hard to believe this tonic could regrow my missing limb?"

I think the only example of this approach I've seen, at least recently, is from The Owl House. The magic in this world can do incredible things, but it works in very specific and defined ways. Eda's curse (which can be viewed as an allegory for many disabilities and chronic illnesses) is seemingly an exception to this, and as such, nothing is able to cure it. Treat it, yes, but not cure it. Eda's mother doesn't accept this though, and seeks out a cure anyway and ends up falling for a scam who's "treatments" just make things worse.

In your own stories, you can either have these scams just not work, or kind of work, but in ways that are harmful and just not worth it, like worse versions of the examples in the previous point. Alternatively, like Eda, it's entirely reasonable that a character who's been the target of these scams before might just not want to bother anymore. Eda is a really good example of this approach handled in a way that doesn't make her sad and depressed about it either. She's tried her mum's methods, they didn't work, and now she's found her own way of dealing with it that she's happy with. She only gets upset when her boundaries are ignored by Luz and her mother.

Think about how the healing magic is actually working

If you have a magic system that leans more on the "hard magic" side of things, a great way to get around the issue of healing magic erasing disability is to stop and think about how your healing magic actually works.

My favourite way of doing this is to make healing magic work by accelerating the natural processes of your body. Your body will, given enough time (assuming it remains infection-free) close a slash from a sword and mend a broken bone, but it will never regrow it's own limbs. It will never heal damage to it's own spinal cord. It will never undo whatever causes autism or fix it's own irregularities. Not without help. Likewise, healing magic alone won't do any of these things either, it's just accelerating the existing process and usually, by extension making it safer, since a wound staying open for an hour before you get to a healer is much less likely to get infected than one that slowly and naturally heals over a few weeks. In one of my own works, I take this even further by making it that the healing magic is only accelerating cell growth and repair, but the healer has to direct it. In order to actually heal, the healer needs to know the anatomy of what they're fixing to the finest detail. A spell can reconnect a torn muscle to a bone, but if you don't understand the structures that allow that to happen in the first place, you're likely going to make things worse. For this reason, you won't really see people using this kind of magic to, say, regrow limbs, even though it technically is possible. A limb is a complicated thing. The healer needs to be able to perfectly envision all the bones, the cartilage, the tendons and ligaments, the muscles (including the little ones, like those found in your skin that make your hair stand on end and give you goose bumps), the fat and skin tissues, all the nerves, all the blood vessels, all the structures within the bone that create your blood. Everything, and they need to know how it all connects, how it is supposed to move and be able to keep that clearly in their mind simultaneously while casting. Their mental image also has to match with the patient's internal "map" of the body and the lost limb, or they'll continue to experience phantom limb sensation even if the healing is successful. It's technically possible, but the chances they'll mess something up is too high, and so it's just not worth the risk to most people, including my main character.

Put Restrictions on the magic

This is mostly just the same advice as above, but for softer magic systems. put limits and restrictions on your healing magic. These can be innate (so things the magic itself is just incapable of doing) or external (things like laws that put limitations on certain types of magic and spells).

An example of internal restriction can be seen in how some people interpret D&D's higher level healing spells like regenerate (a 7th level spell-something most characters won't have access to for quite some time). The rules as written specify that disabilities like lost limbs can be healed using this spell, but some players take this to mean that if a character was born with the disability in question, say, born without a limb, regenerate would only heal them back to their body's natural state, which for them, is still disabled.

An external restriction would be that your setting has outlawed healing magic, perhaps because healing magic carries a lot of risks for some reason, eithe to the caster or the person being healed, or maybe because the healing magic here works by selectively reviving and altering the function of cells, which makes it a form of necromancy, just on a smaller scale. Of course, you can also use the tried and true, "all magic is outlawed" approach too. In either case, it's something that will prevent some people from being able to access it, despite it being technically possible. Other external restrictions could look like not being illegal, per say, but culturally frowned upon or taboo where your character is from.

But what if I don't want to do any of this?

Well you don't have to. These are just suggestions to get you thinking about how to make a world where healing magic and disability exist, but they aren't the only ways. Just the ones I thought of.

Of course, if you'd still rather make a setting where all disability is cured because magic and you just don't want to think about it any deeper, I can't stop you. I do however, want to ask you to at least consider where you are going to draw the line. Disability, in essence, is what happens when the body stops (or never started) functioning "normally". Sometimes that happens because of an injury, sometimes it's just bad luck, but the boundary between disabled and not disabled is not as solid as I think a lot of people expect it to be, and we as a society have a lot of weird ideas about what is and isn't a disability that just, quite plainly and simply, aren't consistent. You have to remember, a magic system won't pick and choose the way we humans do, it will apply universally, regardless of our societal hang-ups about disability.

What do I mean about this?

Well, consider for a moment, what causes aging? it's the result of our body not being able to repair itself as effectively as it used to. It's the body not being able to perform that function "normally". So in a setting where all disability is cured, there would be no aging. No elderly people. No death from old age. If you erase disability, you also erase natural processes like aging. magic won't pick and choose like that, not if you want it to be consistent.

Ok, ok, maybe that's too much of a stretch, so instead, let's look at our stereotypical buff hero covered in scars because he's a badass warrior. but in a world where you can heal anything, why would anything scar? Even if it did, could another healing spell not correct that too? Scars are part of the body's natural healing process, but if no natural healing occurred, why would a scar form? Scars are also considered disabling in and of themselves too, especially large ones, since they aren't as flexible or durable as normal skin and can even restrict growth and movement.

Even common things like needing glasses are, using this definition of disability at least, a disability. glasses are a socially accepted disability aid used to correct your eyes when they do not function "normally".

Now to be fair, in reality, there are several definitions of disability, most of which include something about the impact of society. For example, in Australia (according to the Disability Royal Commission), we define disability as "An evolving concept that results from the interaction between a person with impairment(s) and attitudinal and environmental barriers that hinder their full and effective participation in society on an equal basis with others." - or in laymen's terms, the interaction between a person's impairment and societal barriers like people not making things accessible or holding misinformed beliefs about your impairment (e.g. people in wheelchairs are weaker than people who walk). Under a definition like this, things like scars and needing glasses aren't necessarily disabilities (most of the time) but that's because of how our modern society sees them. The problem with using a definition like this though to guide what your magic system will get rid of, is that something like a magic system won't differentiate between an "impairment" that has social impacts that and one that doesn't. It will still probably get rid of anything that is technically an example of your body functioning imperfectly, which all three of these things are. The society in your setting might apply these criteria indirectly, but really, why would they? Very few people like the side effects of aging on the body (and most people typically don't want to die), the issues that come with scars or glasses are annoying (speaking as someone with both) and I can see a lot of people getting rid of them when possible too. If they don't then it's just using the "not everyone wants it approach" I mentioned earlier. If there's some law or some kind of external pressure to push people away from fixing these more normalised issues, then it's using the "restrictions" method I mentioned earlier too.

Once again, you can do whatever you like with your fantasy setting, but it's something I think that would be worth thinking about at least.

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evilminji · 9 months

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I Ponder The Humble Blob Ghost!

You think they are what happens when you ALMOST but not quite A Ghost(tm)? Like, you have the ectoplasm and the will to continue... but you didn't really have A Thing in life? No Final Crystalizing Thought that brings focus? Just "ow! Ah! I'm scared. Don't wanna die!" And theeeeen.... *poof!*

Why am I Orb? Am squish? No bones.

Like? Remove any one piece of the Critical Formula and you get Blob instead of Ghost? Different KINDS, mind you, but blobs none the less.

Like Skulker! Not enough Ectoplasm. Ended up Blob. He CLEARLY had the Will, the Obsession, the gory end and unfinished business... buuuut? No green goo to power the creation of a full body. He clearly knows what he's supposed to LOOK like? But it's not something FIXABLE? Even with his now unlimited access to Ectoplasm.

Like in utero damage that permanently stunted his growth. HE is fine. All his facilities are on-line and checking in as they should, for the level of sentience expected of a ghost of his people. He just... smol. Same strength, intelligence, and power as he would have always HAD...

He just got handed a really, REALLY crap "customize your eternal meatsuit" option screen. Like for real guys. Basicly NO options. His salt is eternal and entirely justified. He could have had his tattoos. He paid a LOT of credits for those! Sat for DAYS! Had to track down this One(1) artist on this SHITTY little trading hub, that BARELY QUALIFIED as one, to sit in on uncomfortable overturned crate... IN A GAS MASK because the AIR SUPPORT KEPT KICKING IT... for hoooours!

It was a WORK OF ART. You would have CRIED.

This is BULLSHIT.

But wait, I hear you say, staring at the Blob ghost chewing on a lamp post. The one that has wii music playing behind the eyes. No thoughts, head jello, one might say. What about THEM?

Good point! Remember that formula?

LOT of Ecto! But THAT... might be either an animal or a fungus. We'd have to check. ANYTHING can and DOES die. If it's alive? It can die and potentially leave a ghost. But! Consider the noble Ghost Rabbit! *holds up squirming rabbit that is ABSOLUTELY trying to both bite me and kick me in the face* A noble and friendly creature!

THIS is what happens when an animal: has sufficient Ectoplasm at the death site, a reason to continue living (fairly common. It's usually their offspring, escape, the instinctual drive to survive itself or other understandable base drives. Like love, loyalty, or hunger.), and that all important High Emotions End.

Miss any of these? You get Blobbertson over there! He's clearly a hungry boy! But! Not very DRIVEN is he? Just floating along, chewing on whatever seems interesting, looking for a snack. He's food motivated. But not MOTIVATED motivated.

Blobbertson over there? A peaceful death. Too much Ectoplasm too leave, too food motivated in life NOT to carry over, but? No DRIVE. To DEFINE and DEMAND the Ectoplasm in his little body become sharp and active. No highly emotional state to stir it into action.

Is Blobbertson INCAPABLE of higher emotions? No. He is every bit as capable as the Ghost Rabbit that has savaged my hands and escaped while you were reading. It was, in fact, NOT as friendly as originally assumed. I may be bleeding. Unimportant. Blobbertson is PERFECTLY capable of getting attached. Being trained.

Whatever level of intelligence Blobbertson had in life, still remains. And WITH that? Comes the ability to improve and grow in death! IF (and this is the big one) he ever finds MOTIVATION to do so.

Because you see, Blobbertson is quite happy. No thoughts, brain jello. Drifting along in a happy green ocean like a jellyfish. Only concerned about his next snack. It's comforting. His food obsession filled, his tiny motivation barely enough to move him place to place.

He would GLADLY sit in one place and eat for the rest of eternity. Head blissfully silent.

And that's OKAY! It truly, honestly, is. Not everyone has to be conquers and kings, crafters and cosmonauts. Sometimes you just want to spend the rest of time playing in the sand. Resting on a sunshine-y hill. Not EVERY soul is a loud one.

This is the INFINITE Realms.

And there are places like Amity Park out there. THICK as cold honey with Ectoplasm in the air, gently infusing all the life that grows there with greater and greater chance of Ghost-hood. Even the peaceful blinking awake after that final rest to look down and... little nubby green paws.

Congratulations on becoming a Blob, grandma! Yes, I imagine you ARE furious it is inordinately difficult to knit like this. No, I don't think complaining to the king will help, MeMa.

That said? I can not tell you if Blob Ghost all belong to the same Family or the same Order, but they are NOT the same species! The WAY in which you fuck up that ever vital Fomula results in WILDLY different Blobs! Was it an animal? A sentient species? A sentient PLANET? A complexe interlocking colony of fungi? What was the EXACT Ectoplasm concentration at the death site? Was that the historical levels or the At Death levels? Was the individual under sedation?

Yes! All of this IS in fact, VERY relevant!

And you think it ends THERE? HA! The SKIES are FILLED with Fighty Mother Fuckers! Ghosts LOVE to fight! It's built into their social dynamics and hierarchy! Good ol brawls to get the Ecto pumping!

......Local Blob Farmer would like to take this moment to say "GET OF HIS GHOST PEONIES, YOU HEATHENS."

No they would NOT like to join your 24/7 thunder dome in the sky, THANKS! Martha here is trying to compose some Atlantian Shell Poetry. Blobby Jr of Blobbington and Blobbington Incorporated is TRYING to study! You've DESTROYED THE COMMUNAL ZEN GARDEN!!

Get! GET!!! *swings broom*

And THEN you look not even a mile east? And it's the floating island of Blobs. They LIKE that rock. It's just an ever shifting, accidentally rolling off the edge, falling slightly, making an offended squeek, and floating back to the top of the pile to repeate the process, MOOSH of thousands of blobs. No one's certain if they used to be seals or some sort of cat.

Apparently THAT island is Warm(tm).

So there they sit. Making contented noises, chirping and shoving for the best spots. They never leave. You can literally just... float up and sit on them. It's amazing. You gotta be careful not to get buried, but it's So Soft and bouncy? And they are ALL making that soft happy Blob vibrate noise. It's like a giant, island sized, warm and almost fuzzy but not, water bed that massages you.

Just DON'T start anything there! Holy SHIT are they territorial. You Will Die. They SWARM.

And THATS not even getting into the Blobs that are? Literally brainless. Some people eat those. Which? I guess? They ARE basicly Ectoplasm jello. But SOME of them are NOT? Like... it's a debate. Hot button issue, ya know?

Some fungus turns into Ecto Jello with negative IQ and delicious insides. Is this food? But OTHER fungus was SENTIENT in life and become a whole RANGE of Fungus ghosts, from Blob right on up to complexe dryad like ghosts! Clearly NOT food unless you are a MONSTER. But THEY argue the FIRST group are ALSO not food?

Plant Ghosts have strong opinions and are willing to Gruesome Violence about it.

Which brings us back to the Humble Blob Ghost! Check before you pet! That might be grandma! Or planning to eat your hand! Just as Mammal tells you little to nothing about what animal you are looking at, so too does Blob and Ghost! Stay safe out there! And if anyone sees a glowing green rabbit? I want my blood back! That's supposed to be in MY body! Rude!

This has been, the daily ghost!

@hdgnj @stealingyourbones

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dp x dc #danny phantom #blob ghosts #blob lore #i like to PONDER the lore #get my grabby little racoon hands on the set dressings #gib me your SECRETS #gib to the racoon #minji's writing

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eldritch-spouse · 3 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/eldritch-spouse/741884957599973376/httpswwwtumblrcomeldritch-spouse741700018004?source=share

I need to know in explicit detail the first time breg allowed this human to collect samples. Also need to know the embarrassing situations they are put in that their coworkers judge them

I honestly love this so much I'm kicking my feet and giggling ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[Fem reader. I kind of rushed this. Doodle at the end.]

TW: Heavy themes of abuse (including mentions of noncon, death and captivity); Dubious consent moments.

" Listen, we just need you to get in there. "

You blink. " ... This can't be serious. Is this a joke? "

The half-fiend woman, superior to you in professional rank, drags a hand across her blonde locks and grimaces. " Look, I know it sounds bad- "

" Of course it does! This was nowhere in the job description- "

Not that the job description was very uh, descriptive, anyway. But any straw will do, anything to cling to a modicum of your dignity as you get told what your next task will be.

She seems to switch through a few different corporate tactics to ease the blow. " Listen, please. We are short-staffed at the moment, and this has been affecting production a lot more than you can imagine. Specimen 197 is a big bread-winner here and we all know he's uncooperative with machinery, going as far as to ruin it constantly, which leads to more expenses- "

She's explaining this to you like you're a particularly slow toddler and you're not amused.

" We have also noted that M197 is clearly attached to you and a bond has been formed, which is why your presence is requested in certain situations, to reduce his stress levels during tasks. This... Is another one of those tasks. We just need you to get a few samples- " She points at the two canisters next to her. " And you can think of it as a way to improve your bond with the specimen even. "

" Ma'am, he's entering a rut. " You pause. " You want me to walk into a male breeder's cell while he's rutting and engage sexually with him? "

She gulps. " For- For strictly professional purposes- "

" I'm not doing this. "

...

" There's a significant monetary bonus if you manage to do it. "

A long, shameful, disgustingly filthy moment of silence unfolds where you internally debate how far you're willing to go for some much needed money.

Too far, apparently.

" ... I'll do it. "

" Great, that's wonderful, we- "

" No cameras in the room. "

She flinches. " But then how are we supposed to know if you're in danger? "

" No cameras, please. "

If you die you die. You don't want footage of you being possibly mauled by a breeder out there...

A begrudging glance is cast towards the canisters sitting innocently on the table.

Grabbing them, you prepare for the shitshow you signed yourself into.

We have him tied up, the techs had informed you, it'll make things easier.

Just hearing them gives you headaches.

Yes, of course, because forcibly restraining the already volatile lifeform will make it cease being hostile. Logical.

A long-suffering sigh exits your lips when you input the code to open 197's cell. It's a code you know by heart now. If not from the regular standard visits, then from the hurried string of numbers your coworkers would scream at you over the radio before getting launched around by a monster several times their size and weight.

It's hard to forget something like that. There are just some faces you never see again.

As soon as the heavily reinforced door hisses open, you're greeted by an immediate build-up of a snarl. As scary as the sound was when you first heart it, and continues to be on an instinctual level, you understand now that it's mostly born out of fear.

Nothing good ever happens when 197 is cuffed and he's right to be frightened.

The moment you step into view and the door slams shut behind you however, he visibly seems to shift gear instantly.

Sitting on the rather uncomfortable tiled ground, specimen 197 has his ankles spread and cuffed to the ground, his wrists joined behind him and his neck nearly choked to the wall. A muzzle prevents the breeder's jaw from elongating as it tends to do when he's threatened. His tail is likewise restrained in two areas. Those cuffs are the best things modern technology can offer, you haven't heard of a single solid monster type that can shatter them. They're likely also tampered with by some more magically-inclined individuals, but you've never been one to dabble in that.

He exhibits the signs you'd expect from any male entering a rut. Excessive sweating, goosebumps, a faster breathing rate, tension, restlessness and a dilated, humid slit. His skin flickers from time to time, signals somewhere between aggression and courtship displays. You would never have associated heat cycles with torture before starting your work here, but seeing the way these monsters are chemically forced into hypersexual, unhealthily exacerbated heats has shown you just how cruelly this biological process can be exploited.

Sometimes they die. A hormonal, frenzied, artificially accelerated metabolism like this is powerful, but it's also very fragile, in a way. Either they're able to maintain their required ridiculous nutrient intake, find a way to preserve as much energy as possible, or simply panic and end up dying from a mixture of stress and lack of sustenance.

Another sigh escapes your lips, you try to clear your head by placing the canisters on the ground.

The breeder in question, who was once nearly pitch black in his effort to intimidate the perceived threat, is now snow white, having registered you as his favorite, the "nice one". 197 shrinks in himself, then begins a litany of keening whines interspersed with specific chirps.

It might be a plea for attention from an already hormone-fried brain, it might also just be a desperate request to be released from his binds.

You're no paragon of morality, but unlike your coworkers, you understand that building a bond with anyone requires depositing some trust in them. And, even if 197 is rutting, you can only continue to build a connection with him if he has a modicum of comfort in this situation. Which is why you steel yourself before moving closer to the specimen in question and inputting the specific combination to unlock all of his cuffs.

The process is timed, giving workers about five or so minutes to leave the cell before the cuffs drop and the monster is freed. It prevents casualties, naturally.

197 tries to thump his tail in appreciation when he realizes what you're doing, quietly rumbling and trying to lean into the small brushes of your fingers as you work.

" There big guy, just give it a second... " You take a few steps back while you wait.

It feels like a small eternity before the restraints begin falling off one by one. First the tail ones, then the muzzle, the neck, the wrists... And the ankles. On that last click, the breeder shrugs everything away and stretches as he stands.

You've studied these monsters and their mannerisms, he's not stretching just to soothe his joints, he's displaying. The exaggerated curve of that spine says it all, you know exactly what reaction he's after. Though, already riled up as he is, you don't think it's a good idea to respond.

In a second, he's closed the distance between the two of you, this near suffocating hovering over your front, hands and arms twitching with the urge to touch you. 197 is not good with boundaries, which was very surprising to you, considering he absolutely detests it when 99% of people touch him.

The 1% being you.

He waits, visibly pained, for the signal.

" You can touch me now. "

And like a sudden wave, 197 nearly crashes onto you, his comparatively massive pale body blanketing over yours as his arms cage your upper body, lifting it along with him. You squealed the first few times, now you know to stay mostly still and lean to the right so he can shove his face in the crook of your neck without bonking his head against yours. Painful.

He takes a couple deep, shameless inhales of your scent. And, if you had to guess, you're probably a bit sweaty from anxiety. Not that he seems to care, 197 actually appears to slow down a little, enjoying the closeness and now familiar odor you possess. His tail coils around your legs and you pat his back when the telltale chirps and trills of elation make it past his throat.

" Yeah, I missed you too buddy. Take a breather. "

This close to the male, you have absolutely no choice but to drown in his musk. 197 can't help it, he's ruttting after all, those pheromones have to come out. Fortunately, as a human, you're not affected by them, though some of your monster coworkers have to wear specific masks when they enter rutting breeder cells. To you, it's just vaguely unpleasant and heavy.

197 would usually give you a bit of room by now, but he doesn't seem interested in that, instead shifting you around so he can smell other parts of your figure, particularly your hair. Your face warms from his excessive body heat and the sensation of being corralled, your protests silenced when a long blue muscle dips to trail from the base of your neck to your jaw and up the side of your face. The movement is quick, and your attempt to reflexively lean away is met with a tighter grasp as he repeats it.

197 has a habit of dulling his teeth to look more humanoid for your comfort, but not today, in the state he is, he likely forgot that detail altogether. This unfortunately means that you feel the scrape of those pointed daggers every time he amorously samples your skin.

" Alright okay, that's enough- "

You butt in when it feels like he's getting a bit too riled up too fast. It's not exactly counter-productive to your task, but letting him get more and more control over the situation will make it difficult to get the samples later. You can't wrangle a breeder in the throes of their rut, you have to do things before that critical stage.

However, the specimen isn't interested in listening to anything you have to say, responding instead to your tone with his own whine and starting to tug at your uniform. That does it. Thoroughly soaked in his drool, you grab onto the breeder's forearms hard.

" 197! " It's not a tone you like to use with any of the breeders here.

He eventually snaps out of his little trance, gulping, steadying himself before frowning and giving you the space you want.

In this barely minute-long episode, 197 has already kicked into high-gear. Breathing accelerated again, open-mouth panting, excessive drool production, somewhat puffed figure and the tips of his twin cocks already poking out of a pelvic pouch that can barely hold them back. He seems to shiver in his own overwhelming arousal, and though this species is known for having its eyes shielded behind a layer of skin on the face, you know he's fixed on you like a famished animal.

Although your cheeks are moments from setting aflame, this isn't exactly a new sight for you. 197 has gotten aroused in your vicinity several times, you've actually lost count. It'd be nonsensical of you to get irritated over such, given that these males are forced into hypersexuality by the concoctions introduced in their organisms. That paired with his fondness for you probably makes it hard for 197 to not get erections constantly. A hug can set him off, even simple closure paired with your scent is enough to do it.

Well. No time to waste.

While he's mildly disoriented, you grab one of the canisters and move towards a corner of the room with a seemingly randomly arranged pile of fabrics. This, as confusing as it may be to some, is a breeder's nest. And in this species of monsters, the males tend to be the ones who arrange spaces for coupling. 197 has expressed clear discontentment with the fabrics given to him during times of rut to fulfill his instinctual needs, but no one here is ever acting with the specimen's best interests in mind. Besides, he piped down when one of the techs had the bright idea of giving him a jacket you forgot in the workplace. It's right there in fact, the gray hue contrating with a mostly white and pale color scheme.

The nest itself is big, if it fits 197 then it definitely fits you too. And, knowing exactly what you're doing, you let him observe you take a step into it and sit down on the middle, empty canister beside you.

Oh boy.

You can practically hear the popcorn crackles in his brain.

The monster trills loudly, proudly, your supposed acceptance of what have amounted to months of unsubtle courtship from his part being finally rewarded. It's a dangerous moment, you're perfectly aware of such, but it's also necessary to get this over with.

197 drops to a creepily nimble crawl across the floor, rapidly posing over your seated form with blue-tinted cheeks and rabid need. Before you can get so much as a word in, he's dropping some of his weight on you, showering you in hasty licks and clumsy kisses again, this time unable to help himself from nipping at your clothes. The coverings visibly bother him, and the male growls quietly before his instincts tug at him again and he's trying to slot himself between your clothed legs. It takes some yelping, and fussy movement from his part, but you eventually rationalize that stressing him out can lead to a violent response right now.

Might as well let him get away with some embarrassing acts.

Hormone-muddled as he is, 197 has only enough of a mind to hold onto you and press two hot lengths against the front of your body. He's already full-mast, the heat and weight of those things dragging across you when he automatically moves his hips is utterly filthy. He groans, probably the first kind of decent friction he's been getting since he entered this phase of his cycle, the softness and smell of his favorite human getting the monster to leak already, lost in his desperate search for a modicum of relief. As gross and ridiculous as it is, at least he's not tugging at your clothes yet.

You can sense his frustration, the frantic way 197 mechanically bucks against you, the pressure he puts in every thrust, the way his claws puncture into your lab coat and he whines low, this noise that turns into a pleased sort of snarl. Overwhelmed, you shiver beneath his figure, glad there are no cameras to see you fluster and shamefully let a rutting monster grind at you.

You dare say you can get into this.

There's something so appealing about having a monster yearn for you so madly that he's driven to this senseless and primitive display, that even so much as humping you could have them blissed out. Your legs quake around his and you feel your pussy throb in response to the muted friction from his lightly barbed cocks. It's not the first time you've wondered about how it would feel... You've always been a monsterfucker at heart, and 197 is a brutally gorgeous specimen. He's always imploring for even a single touch from you, if you spread yourself out you have absolutely no doubt he would ram those alarming inches into you like a wild beast.

Yeah, maybe your coworkers would call you a sickfuck, but it's not like anyone who works here is moderately normal...

It's a secret. One that you're vaguely paranoid might not be so secret anymore, now that you've been entrusted with this.

In your horny little stupor, you make the critical mistake of forgetting that breeders quickly detect arousal in others. And you are probably making a wet spot in your pants as of now.

With a sudden snort of an inhale, he rises like a man possessed to start ripping at the sides of your lab coat, forcefully trying to rip it off even as he's unable to stop rocking his hips. He knows how to unbutton things just fine, but you bet he can't be fucked to think much in this state.

" Hey- Hey, easy, slow down. " You grab onto his wrists, being ignored.

Okay. Time to think this out while you still can. He's going to rip through your clothes if you let him, and that's not just needless damage, it'll put him in control. But being aggressive about getting him to stop isn't ideal with this type of monster, you need something that distracts him too much to realize he's not exactly holding the leash here. Eventually, an idea graces your mind, though it makes you grimace a little.

Already blazing with shame, you carefully edge a hand between you and, with some hesitation, grab one of the twin members pushed against you.

Instant reaction.

The monster halts, as desired, and looks at you almost oddly, but hopefully. The trick is not giving him enough time to think, so you quickly get a feel for what you're working with, and start stroking him generously.

It's not the frenzied, rushed jerking he inflicts on himself when his own libido becomes bothersome, the fisting of a large hand with little focus and care. You handle him as pleasurably as you can manage, using both hands on him and attentively reading his face. 197 pants openly again, glancing vapidly at your small hands while they work him and he fucks into the motions, strings of thick drool falling from his teeth.

" Good...? Yeah? " You ask, gulping.

He falters and gasps, trying to articulate something. " Please. " Gets dragged out, his dick pulsing in your grasp.

You don't quite know what he's begging for, but you assume he's enjoying himself. Watching the neglected length bob uselessly, you take the opportunity to remove your own lab coat, switching hands quickly when necessary. The shirt comes off too, leaving you in your bra and pants.

By the time you glance back at him, the breeder's skin has shifted entirely to black, and he's hypnotized by the new parts of your body revealed to him, the mounds on your chest breeder females don't have but that he somehow finds pleasing to the eye regardless.

You make a lifting motion, trying to get his attention. " Knees. Come on, knees. Let me show you something. "

It takes a hot second, but he computes the request and does as told out of genuine curiosity. You're about to show an already decidedly horny monster the wonders of oral sex, which is likely not the brightest of ideas, but no one's here to judge your poor decisions.

197's girths hover far too close to your face while he waits a tad impatiently. Studying the things you'll be pleasing soon, you nearly pale a couple shades, knowing it'll take some prayer not to end up hurting your jaw. The male has lived in captivity since the day he hatched, you've enjoyed showing him some of the nicer things in life from time to time, this is just another one of them.

Carefully grabbing onto the left one, you glance at 197 as you deliberately slip your tongue out, so he doesn't just assume you're going to try biting his genitals. He tenses, because of course he would, but you take your time, stopping the moment only his tip is inside your mouth. The breeder is a tad confused and quaking slightly with ambiguous anticipation.

Then you suck.

And it clicks instantly.

God, just this little of his length is already forcing you to open wider than you've ever had to with previous partners, still, you strain to take a few more inches down and focus on that part.

The male exhales tremulously, experiencing the feeling for the first time ever, you're certain. 197 has to straighten slightly as the first intense waves of pleasure course through him, and bless the big dorky monster, he has no idea what to do with himself or his arms. As your jaw adjusts, a tad uncomfortably, you start truly gouging how much of him you can handle. Not that much honestly, but it's to be expected. It's already more than enough to please him, if the increasingly louder growled trills are any indication.

Oh, you bet this is the closest thing to heaven for him. His favorite human, with a mouth warmer than he could have ever expected, lips much softer than any of his species', no apex predator teeth to get in the way, and a tongue that although flat and short, can still chase after those wonderfully sensitive spots.

He has exactly zero idea how to react beyond making bestial noises and drooling on his own chest like a vapid animal. The way his cock pulses in your mouth is a tad bothersome to the rhythm you're trying to keep, but you figure you don't have to show-off to someone who's never had oral before, he's already blown away.

Humorously, 197's hands land on your shoulders, and that's the only way he can apparently steady himself while he's sucked off. His spare cock oozes precum that smears onto your bare chest and you half-heartedly pump it when you pop off his other dick.

" Is this okay, hm? " Needless question, really.

The breeder doesn't even make an effort to reply, whining at the loss of friction and edging forward until both his members nudge against your cheek and lips, begging without words to have that bliss again.

Feeling vaguely in control, enough to be playful, you lean away from the one closest to you and take the right one into your mouth, sucking it as far in as you physically can before switching to the other one, all just so you can hear 197 gasp and grunt out moans. His desperation causes him to buck, and as you gag, a little lightbulb fizzles above his head.

Oh.

Oh no.

The next time you try to pull away, his hands rise from your shoulders to the sides of your head. Each dark finger nearly curves over the perimeter of your skull, and you freeze instantly, not wanting him to tighten his grasp by any means. Everything is fine so long as he only holds onto your head this way, gently.

He's the one moving this time, apparently marveling at the sight of his length disappearing past your somewhat swollen, drooled lips. Except, as expected, he's going faster and deeper than you'd like, getting into it enough to trigger harsh flutters in the back of your throat. Your gagging and subsequent reflexive jerks are met with warning rumbles and one of his hands caging you in place by the back of head.

He learns fast, needless to say.

The more he drives into you, the less you can control your saliva, creating gross pops and slurps as you have little choice but to huff through your nose. Merciless, not even the odd cough around his dick will stop him now that he's nearing orgasm, or so you're willing to guess by his franticness.

Eventually, he makes the mistake of shoving his cock far enough that your jaw strains and your stomach flips, a grossly loud hurl being his response. The horrid noise finally jolts him to a still, giving you enough space to pull away and catch some much needed breath, controlling your belly before anything unfortunate happens.

" Fucking Hell! " You groan hoarsely, irritated. " You're hung like a horse, be careful... "

The rutting male's fried brain only understands that you sound wounded, a concerned chirp followed by soothing sloppy laps to your jaw being his response.

Not an ideal development at all, and yet, progress.

197 is usually very violent with the breeders they tired to pair him for mating. Which is to be expected, being the golden goose of the facility comes at a cost- The rush of hormones in his machine of a metabolism doesn't just contribute to more virility than his male peers, it also causes bursts of hyper aggression not easily controlled. And the only socialization this one usually gets is fights with other males who feel threatened by his presence, understand that they are being hurt by techs because they fail to live up to the standard 197 created, that they might be killed for such.

The females, likewise, fear him.

197 is bigger, louder, scarier. He has a reputation amongst the other breeders, and some of them were more likely to try fighting him off during their heats than accept getting sexual with him. This has led to 197 rejecting all breeders regardless of the context, which resulted in many of the paired females being immediately fatally attacked whenever a scheduled session was arranged. Sometimes he would simply slaughter them, other times he would actually instinctually attempt to mate, and end up ignoring cries of distress, nothing but rage and hormones in that brain causing him to end up killing them mid-coitus.

Shitshows, complete shitshows you've had the displeasure of partially witnessing in the past.

Which is why you're so incredibly shocked he stopped when he heard you nearly throw up. Then again, you're no breeder, and you like to think you've created as decent a connection with him as possible. It could be that.

When the monster thinks you've recovered enough, he attempts to get you to sit in the same position from before so things can resume, and if the way he's insistent on keeping a hold of your head is any indication, then he's learned he prefers to take control of this. And you won't be the fool that argues with him in this state.

After licking your lips a few times, hearing his impatient little huffs, you take one of those slicked cocks into your mouth again, letting him build the pace back up. On the one hand, you're glad you don't have to pretend to keep any composure, letting yourself drool as much as possible for the sake of making the process easier, and uncaring of the filthy noises that only seem to make his thighs quake. On the other, you need a solution so he doesn't just peirce past the back of your throat.

So, experimentally, the next time 197 pushes far enough to have your eyes rolling, you get a firm grasp of the base of his tail and tug.

The appendage lifts and his spine curves back in sudden shock. You doubt it's pain that has him straightening like a plank, after all, you know these beings can oftentimes carry their young by the tail, so if it can handle their body weight, then it can handle a yank from a human's hand. It's more so a sort of "freeze reaction", effective in getting the male to pull back even if he grunts in mild agitation.

It's only fair, in your eyes.

The moment you let go, 197 continues to fuck your face as he pleases, moaning and curving over you once more to find his own pleasure, until he drives in too much again and you repeat the gesture. Over and over, so he understands there are limits.

It seems to succeed in getting the message across. If he wants to keep getting sucked off by your hot little mouth, then he needs to be minimally considerate.

This goes on for a while, you're almost proud to feel him eventually actively hold back from going too far. Because that would halt the friction, and judging by the way his tongue lolls out in pleasure, 197 wants to come really bad.

He seems to have enjoyed your antics from before, because the male actively pulls out of your mouth with another lurid pop and positions his spare length against your lips, fucking into you a couple times before switching to the other one, doing this enough times that you honestly struggle to contain some laughter.

His throbbing increases and you know his peak approaches, quickly reaching beside you for the container as fingers race to open it. Your spare hand makes an extra effort to stroke the length 197 can't fit inside you and with as much vigor as possible, you complement his every motion.

The second you back away to breathe, strings of saliva still clinging from your lips to his dicks, offers the monster enough of a nasty view to trigger exactly what you need. 197 snarls at the top of his lungs, rapidly fisting both cocks before you. It's a decidedly disgustingly arousing display that has you staring heatedly, until the first rope of thick pearly cum lands on your cheek.

It jolts you into flustered movement, holding the canister up to the closest of his girths, you try to get as much as possible inside, unable to shield yourself from the rest of his load as it lands on your neck and tits, warm globs marking you in the throes of the specimen's ecstasy.

It's immensely relieving for him, the sighed, low and needy moans that rip out his throat evidence enough that 197 had been pent up for more than a while. And you... You're soaked in warm seed, observing his maddened jerking slow down.

This is your job now.

Personally collecting from the golden goose of the facility. All for a bonus.

Whatever, just don't think about it too much.

Giving into the guilty sense of pride you feel over making 197 stare at the ceiling in total bliss, you lean down to catch the trails dripping down those teal blue lengths, cleaning him. You don't have to, by any means, but you've already sunk so low today, what difference does it make if you let yourself go a little?

The specimen's legs tremble and he glances down at you with this utterly cum-drunk, infatuated smile. Dark, stained digits rise to comb through your hair in some kind of comforting gesture until you eventually pull away and allow the male to recover.

Now, two things.

You need to clean up somehow, you don't want his cum to dry on your skin.

There's also the matter of the second canister, you think while you grab one of the cloths in the breeder's nest to wipe your face and chest on. You probably won't be allowed to leave his cell until they're both full.

Reaching for the one already warm with 197's sample, you seal it tight, the small device in it emitting a faint green light and beeping quietly. The signal that one container has been filled is then sent to whichever tech is keeping track of this particularly... Unique task.

A pang of shame courses through you at the thought of one of your coworkers now knowing that you've made 197 orgasm.

Time to get the other one and hurry this up.

Unfortunately, as soon as you're about to set a foot outside of the nest, a huge black hand captures your leg, and you're possessively tugged back by a disgruntled breeder who barely gives you enough time to scream before he starts shredding the rest of your clothes...

Hours have passed. You're sure of it.

As far as anyone's concerned, your work has been accomplished. Both canisters are practically overflowing with untainted samples, sitting in the corner of the room so that nothing happens to them.

You're naked, sticky and likely to bruise in some areas from 197's lack of strength mediation, but you did it.

At any moment now, coworkers of yours will enter 197's cell, and you know it's going to be a total wreck. Between his likely immediate aggression, the damage they'll cause him and your less than sightly state, it'll be unpleasant.

But you can't bring yourself to care.

Not when a tireless tongue continues to groom your already exhausted form and 197's meaty cock lazily fucks globs of his hot cum back into your puffed pussy while he trills soothingly. His breathing has steadied and his heartbeat slows.

Any moment now, he might fall asleep inside you, enjoying a sweet moment of bliss before you're taken away again.

It's almost cruel.

#Bregory #monsterfucker #terato tag #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #monster boyfriend #monster x human #not sfw #minors dni #pinnie's art #terat0philliac

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anonymouscapybara · 7 months

Text

people say the worst SI unit is the mole. "ohhh but it's just a number it doesn't even have anything attached it doesn't deserve to be an official unit" BZZZ WRONG

the worst unit is the candela. the candela is stupid.

what's the candela, you ask? well, it measures the brightness of light

"oh that sounds reasonable" you say, "just measure the energy or power emitted!" nope. they would not do anything nearly so simple. a lightbulb emitting a watt of yellow light is more candelas than a lightbulb emitting a watt of red light.

"ok that's weird" you say, "but maybe they're adjusting for that somehow? maybe it measures number of photons?" again, that would be far too reasonable. a lightbulb emitting a fixed rate of yellow-light photons is more candelas than the same rate of purple-light photons.

but what are they even measuring then? what else is there to measure? clearly they ran out of ideas while making up units, because what they're actually measuring is the SUBJECTIVE BRIGHTNESS OF LIGHT TO THE HUMAN EYE. the candela is STUPID

a reasonable question to ask is: how would you even measure the brightness of light to the human eye? aren't a lot of human eyes different? don't different things look bright in different circumstances? aren't there colorblind people in the world?

surely the General Conference on Weights and Measures, which spent millions precisely calibrating magnetic quantum flux to avoid basing the kilogram on a random block in France, has a clever solution!

no. no they don't. the candela is stupid.

as far as I can tell, what you do is you first measure how much light of each wavelength comes in. Then you multiply each measurement by a "luminosity function", which measures brightness to the human eye:

you will notice that there are multiple functions shown in this diagram. the SI system has five of these, for different lighting conditions. do your lighting conditions not exactly follow one of the Five Official Standardized Lighting Conditions? guess you're out of luck then.

and whose eye are we using? why, the Official Standardized CIE Photometric Observer, of course: the "ideal observer having a relative spectral responsivity that conforms to a CIE-defined spectral luminous efficiency function for human vision"

(and no I can't show you this function because the fine people of the ISO put it BEHIND A PAYWALL. who puts measurements determining a fundamental SI unit BEHIND A PAYWALL. the candela is stupid)

all right, so we're measuring a fundamental unit using a (nonexistent) idealized observer in one of five random lighting conditions. how did they find the values for this? i'm...not entirely sure. but here's a glimpse, based on a few of the most recent studies I found used for this:

"...heterochromatic (minimum) flicker photometric data obtained from 40 observers (35 males, 5 females) of known genotype..."

"To obtain an estimate of the mean L-cone fundamental, we weighted [weird variables] according to the ratio of 0.56 L(S180) to 0.44 L(A180) found in the normal, male Caucasian population...and averaged them together"

that's right, our Official Objective Brightness Unit is probably sexist and racist. none of the other SI units have a chance to be sexist and racist. a meter is a meter in every country on Earth. 6.022*10^23 For Women is still 6.022*10^23. but the candela is-- probably-- the white man's candela, because you can absolutely bet that genetic drift around the world gives different values for this stuff.

in summary: my opinion, as you might have guessed, is that the candela is stupid. hopefully you agree with me after reading this that we need to completely eradicate it from the planet. failing that could we at not give it the same level of officialness as the meter or the kilogram?

#physics #math #rant #units #candelas #stupid stupid candelas #science

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pendarling · 2 months

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Bracelet Exchanges

"What's this supposed to mean?" Hero raised the bracelet to eye level and took in the smooth braided leather attached to a small bell.

Sidekick smiled sweetly, "Aww, who gave it to you?~" Their thumb ran along it. "It's a tradition during the festival that when someone likes you they'll give you a bracelet." They played with the bell. "And listen to that sound!"

They didn't get it, probably because this was Hero's first time attending the festival. They've never heard of a tradition like this, but whatever Sidekick said was likely true. In that case, Hero felt flattered to have been approached by a stranger and given the beautifully decorated piece.

The duo walked around for some time until Sidekick paused in their step. "Augh… maybe I shouldn't have drank so much at the cafe…"

Hero looked around and spotted a bathroom, "I'll wait for you out here. Why don't you use the restroom?"

"Ugh… my bladder is about to burst. Make sure not to get lost without me." They called back as they walked toward the door of the small building.

Hero watched them as they left, their eyes concentrating on the door until they could see Sidekick again. Hopefully, they didn't take too long. Sidekick had a habit of staring into the mirror for longer than needed.

A heavy weight landed on Hero's shoulder, and they snapped out of their thoughts, "You look lost." A familiar smile appeared, and Hero took a step back.

"Villain?"

"The one and only." They pointed at themselves confidently.

"Wh-what're you doing here?"

As if offended, Villain scoffed at them and dismissed their question, that cunning smile making its reappearance again, "Y'know, I had a feeling you'd be here, some stupid arrangement like this could easily lure the good little citizen in you right out."

Hero frowned at their comment; they made it seem like they were a lot more susceptible than expected. "I'm not easy to lure…" They grumbled, annoyed.

Villain aimlessly let their eyes explore their surroundings. "Really? Because right now there's hardly anyone around to notice you're dissaaperance."

Hero clicked their tongue, "This place is full of people."

"It's a lot more psychological, Hero. I'm more likely to get away with a crime solely based on the assumption that no one will step in to help you."

Hero looked at them, puzzled.

"The bystander effect. Search it up."

Their adversary had a bizarre way of making jokes; they sarcastically laughed and turned away. Just how long was Sidekick going to fix their hair? The door poured out dozens of other guests; children buzzed around with balloons and colourful hula hoops too big for most of them to utilize.

It was a summer afternoon and, by the looks of it, midday. Hero wiped the sweat from their forehead. They couldn't blame Sidekick for taking that many drinks, they supposed; it was sweltering out here.

The bracelet on their wrist chimed at the motions of their hand. Villain, who had been quietly observing them, took note of the small leather band. Their hand instinctively grabbed Hero's arm. "And what do we have here?" Hero turned their attention back at Villain. Their interest was piqued all over again, "Looks like our hero has an admirer now, hm?" They sneered.

Even though Villain's remarks were usually playful, this moment felt a bit… guarded. Hero was slightly put off before recovering their voice, "What? It's just a dumb thing." They pulled their hand away.

It didn't look like Villain took too kindly to being disregarded; their demeanour changed, and they crossed their arms. "Fine. Keep that shitty toy if it makes you happy."

Hero only shrugged but didn't notice Villain had already walked away until it was too late.

Sidekick had returned by then and looked the same as when they left. For whatever reason, keeping Sidekick busy for ten minutes had done Hero a favour.

"You're back."

Sidekick seemed much refreshed as they adjusted their clothes, "Yeah, there was a lineup in there. I'm just lucky there was still toilet paper."

The sun still beat down on them; Hero squinted in the distance, partially looking for shade and partly searching for Villain. They didn't like their abrupt departure; it wasn't like their usual self to leave without saying goodbye.

"Wanna get lunch?" Hero began walking toward the scent of food.

"Yesss, please." Sidekick patted their stomach, "I'm starving." They came up along the fence of the festival, a row of food stalls of all kinds stretched down the walkway.

The formation that they were sorted into allowed guests to be served from both sides of each food stall. Luckily, the city thought ahead and duplicated certain popular foods like the deep-fried corndogs, fries, and ice cream stalls several times around the area.

"Oooh… I'm thinking pizza." Sidekick said they waited for Hero's response.

The pizzas sold here were always larger than average, and Hero didn't have as big of an appetite as Sidekick. They glanced around for a second option. "I think I'll just get a poutine."

Sidekick pulled out their wallet and gave them ten. "They sell the good orange juice there, Hero pleeease get me one." They pushed the cash into their hand. "Keep the change."

"Ah, no, I'm not taking your money." They handed it back to them.

Sidekick shoved it in their direction again, "Just take it, just take it."

"No, I can't-- I can pay for your drink."

"I don't need it, it's extra change; pocket money."

Hero shook their head rapidly, but Sidekick eventually won and spun on their heel into the crowd as soon as they ensured Hero's grip on the note was firm.

"Sidekick!" their voice was chased away by the noise of the crowd. They might as well go along with what they were asked.

When Hero eventually made it to the stall, they spotted Villain again, as if they were in no way a threat to the other citizens. Their eyes met, and Hero had discreetly pushed their bracelet up their arm and out of view.

Villain beckoned them over. They were unsure if they should bravely face them, but now that Villain knew for sure Hero had seen them, it wasn't like they could leave.

"Waiting to eat too?"

"Just felt a little hungry." Hero mumbled.

They chuckled, "We have the same eating schedule, huh?" They grabbed their arm and pulled Hero into line with them.

"Villain, I can't step in front of other people." They hesitantly tried leaving, but Villain kept them close.

"Don't worry about it, these people will get their turn eventually. What's a few extra minutes gonna do?"

They didn't want to say they were surprised at all when Villain paid for their lunch and even for Sidekick's drink, but they were undoubtedly flattered to have it happen. They set it down on a nearby table and packed in the bottled orange juice and bill into their bag.

Hero shyly thanked them, although they knew Villain's eyes still stared harshly at the little leather bracelet. They honestly had forgotten about its significance, but Villain had made their point pretty clear earlier, so it should've been a sign.

"No need to thank me, consider it a gift." They reached out, and Hero flinched, "I'm not going to kill you, Hero." They laughed and took their other hand, slipping on a small chain bracelet.

They stood awkwardly, too intimidated to leave but unwilling to stay. "What's this?"

"You don't know anything about this tradition?" Villain grinned widely; a sort of satisfied realization must've hit them. They weren't sure what the deal was with every other person expecting Hero to know so much from what little information they'd been given.

"Why are you asking me like I'm supposed to be taking an exam afterwards?" They closed their bag and swung it back over their shoulders. Villain couldn't believe it. Hero wasn't even aware of the implications behind the bracelet. They didn't mind a little obliviousness from their rival as long it kept them entertained.

They licked their lips excitedly, "Enjoy your lunch, and don't take that off until the end of the day." Hero curiously stared at them for further insight, but Villain had only left them to their own devices as they made their way out of view.

As Hero returned to the pizza parlour, they found Sidekick sitting at a table under the shade of a tree. "Oh, thank God," Sidekick took the bottle from them and immediately rested their cheek against the calm exterior. "You're my saving grace, Hero." They reached an arm out to them, "I wanna tell you a secret." They leaned in as Hero pulled out their poutine and a wooden fork. "I honestly only came to this festival for the food and drinks."

Hero laughed, "You're so predictable." They took a bite and recalled the cash still in their bag, "Sidekick," They pulled it out and handed it to them.

"What? You're paying me back?'

They shook their head and swallowed whatever was left, "No, I--" they stopped themselves, "uh-- a kind stranger, paid for our stuff." If Sidekick knew they ran into Villain, they would worry. They couldn't have that while they were enjoying time together; it would ruin their day. Besides, Hero was always away at work; they might as well not make their break day about it.

Sidekick didn't mind much attention to what they said aside from slowly nodding as they drank from the bottle. They set it down and watched Hero for a few extra seconds, "You got a new bracelet."

They pointed at their wrist. Hero redirected their eyes to the silver chain. "Oh, yeah."

"Wow~ even as a citizen you're still popular with the public."

Hero smiled softly; if, in this scenario, Villain had counted as a regular person, then it would be true. "I wonder why it's different though." They played with it.

Sidekick pulled out their phone, "Give me a second. I wanna know too."

"Not even the all-knowing Sidekick has an answer?" Hero nudged them slightly with their foot, and Sidekick pushed them back in response.

"Shut up. I know that the leather one means they like you. Or loyalty, or something."

Sidekick looked up from the screen. "Okay sooo…" They scrolled, "There's a wooden bracelet that means desire to marry, a black one with a red stone is lust."

Hero scooted closer to Sidekick and tried to decipher what they could from the screen. "Where's the chain?"

Sidekick sat up, "Hold on. I can't see with your hair in the way." They watched Sidekick's eyes dart left and right as they read the page, "Okay, so the chain one basically means all three."

"All three?"

"Who the hell gave you that?" They took Hero's wrist, disbelief written on their face as they studied it. "Geez, they must have it bad for you. There's only like a hundred of these in the city."

Their eyes widened. "They aren't sold?"

Sidekick shook their head, "Tradition says you gotta give it away to another person. When you do find someone you like you gotta hand it to somebody new so they can give it to their love interest next, never sell."

Hero blushed deeply. They didn't consider that Villain might've liked them like that. Maybe they were naturally born stupid at blatant advances. "Oh…" they played with their hair, their other hand working at the fries around the gravy, too swept up in their thoughts to properly eat. Maybe they'd see Villain again, and next year, they'd give them a chain bracelet, too. It was only fair that they expressed their gratitude in some form.

~~~ MASTERLIST

#mutual pining #enemies to lovers #fluff prompt #heroxvillain #villainxhero #hero x villain community #hero x villain #villain x hero #pining #pining prompts #jealousy prompts

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notebookqueenofnarnia · 3 months

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Okay Demigods

now that Season 2 has been confirmed (!!!!!!!!!!) I am here to make my official appeal that you ALL read the books. and yes...i mean ALL the books. Because here is what you are missing if you don't:

(mostly spoiler free. mostly vibes and chaotic no context)

OG PERCY JACKSON

Percy's INCREDIBLE sarcasm

Lots of chaotic Mr. D moments

Percy's unending absolute obliviousness when it comes to: his own abilities/powers, his own feelings towards a certain daughter of Athena, and EVERYONE'S feelings towards him

the full list of Percy's felonies (it's longer than you think!)

how much Percy thinks about Annabeth, especially in the third book

The Hunters of Artemis (everyone's like 'which godly parent would you have?' but im like ??? who cares??? I'm running off with the girls to immortal to hunt men i mean monsters)

soooooooooo much Sally Jackson is the Best Mom (to everyone who walks through her door) content

BLACKJACK. TRANS ICON BLACKJACK THE PEGASUS.

Rachel. Elizabeth. Dare. (this is how the audiobook says her name every single time)

Paul Blofis

Sally Jackson, author

Poseidon: Blowfish?

HEROES OF OLYMPUS

If you don't read these books you are missing out on some of the coolest female characters Rick has created: PIPER (an iconic), HAZEL (unintentionally hilarious), REYNA (beautiful character arc), and ANNABETH's point of view will have you loving her on a whole other level, trust me

Also: COACH HEDGE

Leo

All The Ladies Love Leo

the audiobooks are INSANE. It felt like a full cast read the book, but no. it was just one insanely talented narrator.

FESTUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS (im a dragon girlie)

Personally, I spent a lot of time reading the OG 5 wondering about how Roman mythology plays into Percy's world. Uncle Rick answered my questions and answered them SO WELL

Hazel the horse girl

Frank the horsebirddolphinman

Frank, gentle himbo, my beloved son

MY FAVORITE SCENE WHICH INVOLVES PERCY NOT KNOWING HOW TO DRIVE, A HARPY, FRANK, AND HAZEL AND THEYRE ALL SCREAMING AND IM PRETTY SURE STUFF IS ON FIRE

Forced Proximity for 7 teenagers and one chaotically violent satyr (that's Coach Hedge)

Eros/Cupid being one the most genius things Rick's ever written

Percy's hate of Ares transcending god magic

(also his love of Annabeth, but that's like obvious)

PercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabe

weird barely gnome things

this one giant whose name is definitely not pronounced like female anatomy

everyone thinking Percy and Annabeth are constantly getting up to the hanky panky

a statue made me cry

Gay Grumpy/Sunshine (or should that be Death/Sunshine) origins!!

TRIALS OF APOLLO

Apollo, vain himbo of godly proportions is forced to live as Lester Papadopoulos

Percy: why

a very chaotic twelve year old daughter of Demeter

she commands Apollo around

plant magic

terrible great haikus at the start of every chapter

Sally Jackson being the best mom to everyone who comes to her door

magic shoes

a sassy magic prophetic arrow that talks in Shakespearean English

so much gay grumpydeath/sunshine content

also yes sunshine's dad is Apollo

Apollo sings

Grover! Piper! Reyna! Hazel! All the friends! Everyone

Jason! (also im sorry)

what if there were some trees who were an elite squad of warriors who also answer to the chaotic twelve year old

gay moms of the midwest

unicorns

in the last book, chiron takes the campers on a 'field trip' to help take down the big baddie and he shows up dressed as a warrior soccer mom with granola bars, water bottles, and extra swords attached to his fanny pack

a different chaotic twelve year old while fighting to the death in a building that's on fire: "CAN WE GO ON FIELD TRIPS EVERY WEEK?"

chiron: "ROSE DEAR RAISE YOUR SWORD A LITTLE HIGHER!"

okay im not going to spoil it but in the last book there is also this extremely horrifyingly violent moment that Uncle Rick somehow turns into one of the most hilarious things i've ever read

Piper in the epilogue

CHALICE OF THE GODS

more insanely funny percy first person narration

Grover, Percy, Annabeth reunite ("the gang is back together!" "The three musketeers!" "Shrek, Fiona, and Donkey!" "Excuse me?")

have you met the god of himbos? (Percy has)

MANY

EASTER

EGGS

for Season one. you can totally see how Uncle Rick worked on the script and chalice together

if you liked Annabeth shoving Percy into the water....this one is for you

Percy, supreme god of snakes

the cutest cutest cutest cutest Percabeth content you will ever read

hippie gods (yes more than one)

Percy is literally obsessed with Annabeth

Annabeth already being the Jackson daughter in law

Sally Jackson and Paul and

For the record: You CAN read Chalice of the Gods without reading the other series, but please please please read all these books. The audiobooks are phenomenal.

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo disney+#pjo series #pjo hoo toa #pjo #percabeth #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #chalice of the gods #rick riordan #no spoilers #more or less

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imaginarylungfish · 2 months

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we don't want izuku to be quirkless in the end blah blah blah, yeah i know. same.... but also, it could be cool.

imagine he still becomes a great hero, but quirkless? he's the first quirkless hero? and maybe that message is not one for mha to tackle, but hear me out:

what if his arc is him wanting so badly to have a quirk, getting one, learning that being a hero is inherent to himself and not attached to his quirk/abilities, giving his quirk up, AND still being a great hero? wouldn't that be awesome?!

i think that type of character trajectory is unique and interesting in and of itself. but i also know my personal experiences in life contribute to why i think it's cool. i became sick and chronically ill in my late-teens/early-twenties. i lost my health. over the past 5 years, i've regained a lot of it, but i'm not 100% better (and most likely will never be). i've had to go through the arduous process of accepting my physical limits through many iterations of functionality yet learning when i was actually being held back by mental limits/fears and how to push past those.

i relate to izuku's character on many levels: wanting so badly to have something i don't, trying so hard despite not having that thing, and getting that thing you wished so badly for seemingly out of the blue (for me, it was a medication that drastically improved my health). i also relate to his self-destructiveness in name of a goal and sense of (sometimes unwanted) martyrdom.

but i was always a little disappointed throughout the series in the fact that izuku's big problem at the beginning was just seemingly resolved by him getting his quirk from all might. does he view his quirkless self as worthy as his OFA self? we don't know. (do i view my sick self as worthy as my "healthy" self? i don't know.)

so, i just think, if izuku loses his quirk, there is more room for growth for him. in other words, he becomes more interesting. and i get it, this is a shonen manga, it's ending soon, and it's supposed to have an inspiring message (i assume). so maybe it ending with him being quirkless is not something that belongs in this category of manga/anime. but if any series can break the mold, isn't it mha?

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esamastation · 7 months

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Shizuroth, part sixteen

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen

Though Shen Yuan had played Final Fantasy VII and Crisis Core way back when, mostly because emulation was easily available and everyone praised them a lot, he'd never really gotten that into it. He'd sort of missed the hype train, and all the hot takes had already been taken, and Advent Children was kinda weird and overall it just didn't grab him.

But he has to admit that Midgar is a really cool setting.

It's dumb, of course, like, on every logistical level. Oh, look, there's thousands of kilometres of free real estate in every direction to build on, but you know what we should do? A massive fuck off blast plate of million billion tons of metal fifty metres of the ground, that's what we'll do, and we'll build a city in top of it too!

Like, why?! In what realm even remotely attached to sanity does that make sense?! Is there something wrong with the ground, is there an issue of sudden mega floods, or something? No, it's just. A thing they did!

Logic and sanity aside, though, it's cool, as a videogame setting, it's very cool. With the rule of cool there's no reason for, you know, reason. It's iconic.

And it's the closest thing to a modern city he's seen in - in a while! And, damn, but the scale of everything in real life is so much bigger than any of the games conveyed.

It's a real city! With real city traffic and bustle and dystopian advertisements everywhere! There's also an ever present haze of pollution that gives all the neon signs a dreamy glow. It's almost pretty.

And it's only powered by the lifeblood of the planet, too. Technically the souls of the dead! Wonderful.

"Please stop gaping at everything like a damned tourist and get in. People are starting to stare."

Sephiroth looks down to the car that had just stopped in front him on the sidewalk. Genesis had told him to get to the front, that he'd meet him there, but…

Genesis has a car. It shouldn't be a surprise, the guy is rich and the city is big, but it is. It's a really nice car too. A fucking oldtimey wine red convertible. It matches Genesis' outfit. How extra can you get?

"... Do I have a car?" Sephiroth asks slowly, rather than point out how ridiculous and in character it is.

"You have a motorcycle you never use," Genesis says, sounding tired. "Get in."

Sephiroth has a motorcycle. Of course he does.

He opens the convertible's side door and is immediately smacked in the face with a mix of nostalgia and incredulity at the old familiar feeling of something so simple as a car door mechanism at his fingertips. The seat is too much in the front for Sephiroth's long legs, but the seat goes back, and that's a familiar feeling too. Kind of.

He always had to pull his seat forward, rather than back.

Swallowing the sudden, long suppressed homesickness for a world he's two transmigrations away from, Sephiroth looks for a seatbelt. There isn't one. Hooray for corporate dystopia.

Genesis joins the four lane traffic in front of the Shinra building with the reckless expertise of a man who drives a lot in the city, and hates it almost as much as he loves his car.

"How far is it?" Sephiroth asks, trying to figure out where to put his hands. It's a really nice car, and it looks polished, inside and out.

He can't believe he's in a car. He can't believe he's in a world with cars again. He also can't believe how badly the games conveyed the scale of Midgar.

"Sector six," Genesis says and glances at him. "You're looking a little green there, are you feeling alright? Don't throw up in my car."

"I'm fine," he's really starting to get sick of saying it. "Stop fussing."

"Who's fussing! I just don't want you to make a mess," Genesis scoffs. "Also you aren't fine. You have amnesia."

Sephiroth snorts and leans his arm on the door, looking away and at the Shinra building.

It's huge, and weird. It sorta bulges out, this lumpy mass of a building with enormous pipes running up to it with a big barrel shape in the middle. It's the biggest building in the city, though - it's the only real skyscraper, towering over all the smaller buildings around it.

After all the metal in the Shinra building, it's weird to see brick and mortar again. Why brick and mortar? What did they run out of steel and concrete building the plate? None of the other buildings go higher than eight levels, too.

"We've covered one thing you remember perfectly. Anything else? You recognized Angeal and me, but how about anything else?" Genesis prods at him. "Hey, are you listening to me?"

Oh, he hates this. At least in Cang Qiong Mountain people were too polite to really pick on him or point out how badly he acted as Shen Qingqiu. They were nice enough to take his bullshit at face value and let it slide. Plus there was propriety to think about - none of his disciples had the standing to really call him out.

Genesis doesn't give a shit about his thin face and actually smacks him on the shoulder, "Hey!"

"What's there to say?" Sephiroth answers, because he has no answers to give. "I wouldn't know what I don't know, would I?"

Genesis sighs, irritated and stalls at the traffic lights. "And I can't tell you what to look up if you don't tell me. You must've figured out something by now."

"I figured I really could've used the day to myself," Sephiroth mutters and watches as a delivery truck advertising pastries runs a red light. "I don't know what you want me to say. I don't know, Genesis."

"Shit," the other SOLDIER says, running a hand through his hair while steering one-handed.

There's a break in the discussion as they go through a checkpoint, where the guards in infantry uniforms just wave Genesis through. The people on the sidewalk stare at Genesis' convertible, and whisper.

Sephiroth looks away, and then blinks at the dump truck not far away from them, also going through the checkpoint.

Weird - somehow he didn't expect Midgar to have public services. Where do they go to empty them? Do they just dump their trash down the plate?"

"So you remember… nothing?" Genesis asks as they leave the checkpoint behind

"I know - some things," Sephiroth says defensively. "But - the details escape me."

"Things like what?"

"I don't know. You, Angeal. This city. The war. Don't ask me for the president's name, but I know there is one," he sighs and leans back, watching an enormous advertisement for LOVELESS pass them by.

He also knows that sometime soon Genesis will get hurt and the wound will never heal, kick-starting the plot of Crisis Core. He has no idea when, though. He isn't even sure how to figure it out - the timeline in these games wasn't exactly clear.

"Does Angeal have a student?" he asks.

"What, like a personal student? Not that I know of," Genesis says and glances at him. "Why?"

"Ah, nothing, never mind. Must've been someone else," Sephiroth says smoothly.

So, Zack Fair, the protagonist of Crisis Core, hasn't appeared yet? Or Angeal hasn't met him. Hopefully that means there's still some time.

Genesis is quiet for a moment and then sighs. "I'll get you some intel. Personnel files for people you should know, reports from missions you've been on. The information packages handed to Thirds should help at least a little too. But Sephiroth, there's a lot about your past you've never shared, if someone asks about it…"

"I'll just say I don't want to talk about it," Sephiroth says, watching another neon lit advertisement fly by. "Thanks, Genesis."

"I expect to be compensated in full for my efforts," Genesis says firmly.

Sephiroth leans his cheek on his knuckles and wonders what Cultivation might do for the deterioration Genesis - and Angeal too - have ahead of them. "I'll do my utmost to pay back my debts."

"You better," Genesis says and turns the car from the main highway to a side road, full of expensive looking store fronts and equally expensive looking cars. "That's it over there. Let me find a place to park and then we can get you a coat that fits."

"Much obliged, Genesis."

#Fanfiction #ffvii #ff7 #svsss #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #sephiroth #genesis rhapsodos

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pablitogavii · 11 months

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i adore your blog and your writing!! if you’re feeling inspired could u please write a fic where the reader’s parents fight a lot and one night it gets really bad so the reader goes to gavi or he picks her up? and he comforts her and everything is sweet. i need him to do this irl rn but anyway… have a good day / night!! love u🤍

I'm so sorry you're going through this baby. If you need to talk my chat is always open <33 This one is special for you <33

There for you

I was crying in my room hearing the sounds of their argument echoing down the hallway. I should be used to it by now after all the years of dealing with it, but every time it gets harder to listen to it knowing there is nothing i can do to stop it.

Growing up with parents that had anything but love for each other made it hard to believe in possibility to have a real family one day, but thankfully I found someone who showed me it was possible.

Since we started dating, I've told Pablo about the hardship of my family and he was so understanding promising to never make my parents mistakes in our relationship.

I was laying in bed scrolling through my camera roll smiling at our photos together trying to tune out the screams and insults coming from outside.

I could ignore anything unless when my dad gets physical like he did tonight. I heard him push my mom as she fell in front of my door with a loud bang.

I clumped on my bed holding onto my knees with one hand and dialing Pablo's number in another. I couldn't stay here anymore, I was starting to feel my panic attach creeping in.

"Hello? Amor?" he said while my tears were flooding my face smiling when I heard his voice that was enough to make me feel safer.

"Um..I need you to pick me up cariño..please?" I said my voice shaky and he knew something was definitely wrong if I was calling in the middle of the night sounding like this.

"I will be there in five minutes. Can you wait for me outside amorcito?" he said and I said that was fine as I packed some clothes into my backpack quietly sneaking out of my bedroom window. Luckily I was on the lower level so I could utilize the window when I needed it.

He was there even quicker rushing outside not even closing his door and hugging me to his chest tightly while holding my head against his chest as I cried.

"Shh..estas bien amor..estas bien..I am right here now..your Pablito is right here..and we are going to go somewhere quiet and safe okay?" he spoke and I nodded still unable to stop my tears from falling down my cheeks but at least I wasn't hyperventilating anymore when I got into the car and we drove off.

I took my shoes off pulling my knees to my chest while looking through the window wondering why do I need to have a family like this? How did I deserve to deal with this?

"Wanna hold my hand amorcito? We are almost home" he said giving you his arm and you held it against your chest playing with his fingers to distract yourself and he smiled continuing to drive slowly towards his house.

When we arrived, he helped me out walking slowly while holding my trembling body against himself kissing the top of my head when he got into his apartment.

"Let's wear some pajamas huh?" he said and I realized that I didn't pack any only bringing clothes to wear tomorrow. I told him that but he only smiled pulling me close and kissing my forehead.

"As long as I have my shirts, you will have your pajamas princesita" he said and I smiled as we walked to his bedroom looking through his closet for me to choose the shirt I wanted to wear.

"Those are all expensive Pablo.." I said not wanting to sleep in something that costed like my monthly subscription to Netflix and he chuckled shaking his head while pulling out one his Boss shirts I always complimented when he wore.

"Arms up princesita" he said and I blushed doing as he asked as he put the shirt over my body making it fall all the way below my knees like a perfect length dress.

"Looks better on you anyways..so how about we make some hot coco? I have mini marshmallows from last time too?" he said and I suddenly smiled wide that being my favorite drink which he knew really well. His eyes teared up and I was confused what happened.

"You have such a beautiful smile..you deserve to always smile preciosa...always" he said kissing the top of my head and I told him that it was alright and that I was used to dealing with this.

"Da igual.." you sigh shaking your head.

"No da igual..I promise to give you the life in which you will always smile.." he said and that made you smile more moving closer and kissing his lips lovingly. We might be young, but I trusted Pablo comeptlely and I knew he knows more about love than my adult parents ever will.

"No more tears! We are going to go make ourselves some coco and then we can cuddle if you want?" he said and I nodded quickly saying there is nothing better I could think of.

"Okay careful, preciosa. It's hot when I pour it and you can put in the marshmallows" he said and you smiled that he was always so careful not to hurt you and you waited for him to pour before putting in the squishy marshmallows in with a smile.

We sat down with our mugs and he pulled me into his arms. While I sipped on my coco, he was searching the channels smiling when he looked down at saw the little moustache I had on my face.

"Que?" I said when I saw him giggling and he used his fingers to clean me up putting it into my mouth afterwards making me blush.

"Tu eres tan preciosa" he said kissing my lips sweetly while I giggled telling him that I like Friends and that we can watch it which he quickly agreed.

We watched almost five episodes when i felt sleepy moving closer and resting my head on his shoulder while he held me tightly against himself which is exactly what I needed in this moment.

"Muchas gracias Pablo..for picking me up..and for taking care of me..Te amo mucho" I said and he smiled nodding his head and kissing the top of my head.

"Yo tambien te amo muchisimo princesita mia. No need to thank me..it's my job to take care of mi novia whenever she needs me..and I love whenever you can sleep over" he said and I smiled nodding my head and slowly dozing off to sleep.

I was already fast sleep on his chest when my phone rang and Pablo took it seeing it was my dad on the other line. His jaw clenched as he answered the call making sure to be quiet not to disturb your sleep.

"She's fine, sir. She's with me and I will take care of her..you have no idea how special your daughter is..and she doesn't deserve any of this" he said to the man before hanging up and kissing the top of your head promising himself to always be there to protect you and to give you the life you deserve in the future.

I hope you like it and I hope it helps in any way amor <3 Again, if you need to talk I'm always here! Stay strong!

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