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canned-goose-feathers · 2 years

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III.

"Grian?"

Scar sounds like he's speaking through water. Grian thinks he might have imagined it, but something warm touches his face. His eyes open slowly to meet deep green eyes.

"Welcome back," Scar says, but it sounds worried. Grian blinks at him. There's the heartbeat in his head that he's grown so used to, but there's a warm comfort that's settled at the base of his skull. He wants to sink into it, but his stomach growls.

Grian pushes himself up onto his elbows as Scar draws back. "You weren't answering again."

Grian's brow furrows. "Scar, I literally just sent you a message."

"Uh, no, you didn't," Scar huffs. "I got a message from you like yesterday, but since then it's been radio silence.

"Yester–" Grian shakes the fog from his brain best he can. No, he remembers messaging Scar, when we was down in the—

Wait. Hold on. He's not by the rift anymore. The warmth under him is enough, he knows where he is. The Entity hums around him, content at the attention. Fear shudders through him slowly. The hammering of his heart is deafening, or maybe that's coming from the Entity. It's hard to tell at this point. He feels nauseous. "I don't— I was down by the rift, you were messaging me about trading some slime for copper. I don't know…"

"Are you feeling alright?" Scar says, and there's a genuine worry in his eyes. There's something about the intensity of his gaze that makes Grian uncomfortable.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm getting sick."

"Well you look it, your wings are a mess." Grian shifts his wings to where he can see them and frowns. He shouldn't be molting, not this early into the season, yet blue and yellow and red feathers fall when he moves.

"That's odd," he murmurs. Scar is still kneeling, his eyes now on the feathers that have dropped.

"How about we get out of your weird flesh shop and go get you cleaned up, huh? TLC, that's what the doctor ordered!” Scar stands and offers his hand.

Grian takes it with a roll of his eyes. “I pity the man who sees you as a doctor.” Scar looks offended, but he laughs a second later. He hauls Grian up and there’s a second of darkness, standing up too fast, and Grian leans heavily on Scar for a second.

“You good?”

“Yeah, just a bit dizzy,” Grian says, righting himself. He glances at Scar and says “No chair today?”

“Nope!” Scar beams, “I’ve been feeling good. What can I say, I’ve been getting my beauty sleep and eating my brussel sprouts.” He leads Grian down the ladder they constructed leading out of the Entity. The shulker had been a good idea in theory but, well. It hadn’t gotten any better after about the fourth time Grian had fallen. Grian kind of maybe zones out again as they move away from the Entity. There’s a feeling like a void is opening in his chest, an intense longing that he feels comes from nowhere. He feels suddenly like a child, homesick and far from safety.

“Oh my gosh, Grian, what’s wrong?” Scar is there in front of him, hands held out as if to hold him.

“Whaddya mean?” Grian’s voice cracks. Scar stares at him.

“You’re crying.” Grian’s hand touches his cheek and finds it wet. He stares at the way light flickers off of the water, then he hums.

“Huh. Allergies?” Scar doesn’t really look convinced. “I’m fine, Scar. Come on, let’s get a move on. I’ve got things to do.”

It sounds like a deflection even to himself, but Scar just nods and guides them out of the shopping district. It’s not long before they’re at Scar’s tree, warm inside as Scar closes the door behind them. He nudges Grian towards the couch and disappears into the kitchen. “Have you eaten today?” Scar’s voice drifts out the doorway.

"Uhh…"

"I'll take that as a no." There's a bit of a wait (as well as some worrying crashes), but eventually Scar emerges from the kitchen with what looks like an entire feast. He sets down two cups of tea and sits next to Grian.

"Did you just have an entire cheese board ready?"

"You never know when you'll have company," Scar beams and Grian has to admit, the sight of food makes him ravenous. He picks at some of the cheese and crackers. Getting sick made things taste weird, right? Or maybe Scar is just that bad at picking cheeses. The meats are alright though, and Grian barely holds back at eating all of them. Scar looks back behind Grian.

"Your wings are in rough shape," he says. His voice is softer now, like he's afraid of being overheard. "Do you . . . Do you want me to help?"

His wings shy away on instinct, but this is Scar. He may not remember what happened in the desert, but Grian does. Without saying anything, Grian spreads out his wings towards Scar.

The first touch always feels like electricity. Today it feels a bit muted, but then again his head has been in the clouds for a bit anyway. He chirps quietly as he really relaxes, the preening feeling so soothing. Scar might not remember preening him, but his hands do. The way he gently cracks the keratin sheath, the way he cards his fingers through the thick feathers and lets friction do the work, the way he softly runs his fingers down each feather, resetting it to its proper shape. It's borderline heavenly, but there's a weight in the air.

"Grian?"

"Hm."

"You're changing colors again." That gets his attention. Changing colors isn't strange, he usually molts near the end of every season and enters the next with a new color. But months into the season? He can't remember it ever happening.

"What color?" He asks, curious but utterly unwilling to turn around and away from the feeling of Scar's fingers.

"They're red. Like a uh, kind of a dark red?"

The weight is back, but this time it's something in Grian's hindbrain that tells him something is off. Like the feeling of walking down a back street and being watched by something that isn't there. He doesn't realize that he's trembling until a hand settles heavy on the top of his wing.

"Easy, Birdie," Scar says like it will solve everything. "I like em. They're pretty."

Grian's cheeks go pink and he ducks his head. He can hear Scar's stifled giggles from behind him. Grian feels him move to his other wing and he pulls the other to look at. Sure enough, he can see the freshly freed red feathers unfolding from the bright colors. Scar is right, they're a darker, more mottled red than the macaw-like feathers he's been sporting. It feels familiar and right. Scar's fingers dig a bit deeper into the top of his wing and brush lightly over paper-thin skin. Grian melts back against him, pleased chirps escaping him.

Grian, for all the rest he's (apparently) gotten, is exhausted. He feels like he's being pulled in ten different directions and none of them are his own choice. He feels Scar shift behind him until Grian's being pulled backwards until his head hits Scar's chest. Fingers card through his hair until restful sleep finally claims him.

#Prion AU #Prion #hermitcraft #grian #hermitcraft fanfic #gtws #hermitblr #goodtimeswithscar #mcyt #hermitcraft season 9 #mcyt fanfiction #fanfic

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frozenjokes · 2 years

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@canned-goose-feathers love ur au and I love scar thx for the food

#hermitcraft #hc s9 #Prion AU #goodtimeswithscar #bdubs #bdouble0 #hermitblr

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witchofthesouls · 22 days

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How tiny would the second set of sparklings be after Overlord?

Very tiny and delicate as they're really premature. Their saving grace was that their forms were nearly settled and had begun the bulking phase.

Nickel was able to drop them inside an incubator, so their bodies could stabilize more and hopefully get more weight on them. And had a screaming match with some 'con medical personnel. She stole joints and sliced cabling since she's at the perfect height for knees and ankles before kicking people out.

It's unfortunate that the Decepticons don't have a blacksmith that's experienced with neonatal care, but there's a Prion medic and Camien nurse from Order the Luminara that made some plans.

Because the three are itsy-bitsy, they wear onsies for better thermoregulation. They're either sleeping or eating as they have severely limited reserves.

Tarn has upgraded to perch since all three can curl into the nook between his neck and collarfare, which is far easy to keep track of them since all three can fit in his palm and still have room to squirm around. The split-sparks are grumpy because that was their favorite spot, and they got kicked out to his chassis.

Nurse is grumpy because of the healing process, and the lack of biolights on their armature means Tarn's cozier to all the sparklings' senses.

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i-mean-technically · 1 year

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OK BUT

Orion Pax Arc AU Time!

Orion is a Smart Cookie. He was all for destroying the government before he became Optimus Prime and worked in the biggest information/knowledge hub on Cybertron. He was raised by the Scribe Prime ok

He's intelligent and can make choices on his own and he's with the 'cons for less than a day and he will absolutely be like "this is sus as FUCK"

he just

fucking leaves

there's an AMNESIAC ARCHIVIST loose ON EARTH.

DOES HE EVEN KNOW HOW TO SPEAK ENGLISH???? DOES HE KNOW WHAT HE TRANSFORMS INTO TO????

oh my god Cybertron doesn't have a sun ORION PAX SEEING A SUNRISE FOR THE FIRST TIME

i feel like i should make a separate blog for writing about these AUs whatchy'all think

#transformers prime #transformers #maccadam #tfp #tfp au #prion pax #optimus prime #idk what to call this one #bound earth #maybe???#my au

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chownkiies · 4 months

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Gang

(there's more characters but these are the group that I focus more on ;-;) I want to draw Nickels group of friends back on Prion gwaa

#au #??#nickel n friends #pre-djd stuff #transformers #maccadam #fan design #oc #ocs #Copper #Nickel #Zinc #Cobalt #Project: Prion #tf

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chekhovs-nailgun · 5 months

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is it more romantic for a cannibal to slaughter and eat their lover, or to worship their body like a saintly relic? is it more romantic to spare them altogether? is the most romantic thing to devour them slowly and savor their flesh, only continuing after their wounds heal?

if ashley were ever to butcher and consume andrew, it would be an act of possession. (stay with me)

if andrew were ever to butcher and consume ashley, it would be an act of conservation. (stay with me)

they are already devouring each other slowly.

#chekhov's prion disease #no verbal elaboration yet. all you get are musics #them actually cutting off pieces of each other to survive in pt1 as an au...#the coffin of andy and leyley #tcoaal #andrew graves #andy graves #ashley graves #leyley graves #coffincest #gravecest #cannibalism mention #proship #inspired by that one text 'would it be more romantic to eat/not eat u'#but added in what babe said when i asked him lol <3

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cxyotl · 2 months

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WHATS THIS? THE NEW AND IMPROVED PRIONS AU FIC??

I have three chapters out and ready to go!! theres more chapters to edit, and i think i might mass drop them too between tonight and tomorrow so that we can be back on track and i can get back to writing the next chapter. after that i’ll go back to spacing out chapters again. the original had like 11 chapters out at the time of deletion so i got my work cut out for me lmao.

I talk about it so much, but Prions is my dsmp zombie au based loosely on the dsmp egg arc, chronic wasting disease, and slime molds!

This fic is written about dsmp characters, who i’ve modified slightly to be humans and in real world locations. techno and schlatt are main characters, with benchtrio and dapduo as supporting characters, and punz and purpled as antagonists.

#cxyotl prions au #dsmp fic #winnersduo fanfiction #dsmp zombie au

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hi-im-lugh · 22 hours

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*Runs up to you with one of those wand cat toys held like a microphone*

Thoughts about zombie viruses in media?

(No presser to answer, I just thought you might have thoughts about it. Feel free to ignore this ^^;)

HI!!! IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED

Zombie viruses are INCREDIBLY hit or miss for me. I either love them or hate them and very often hate them.

My main problem is that SO much zombie media tries to be accurate to real life or take real world inspiration, and as someone who knows a lot about diseases, that ruins it for me SO bad. No matter what you do to Rabies it will not do that. Neither will prions. Honestly prions as a zombie virus often has racist roots in misperception of the Kuru outbreak in the Fore people. (Looking at you DEAD ISLAND.)

I like zombie viruses that are removed from reality. That's honestly why I've enjoyed the MLP infection au trend so much- quite a few of 'em hit the perfect sweet zone of fantasy science and pure fantasy. The Resident Evil series is in a similar spot- the science in that series is COMPLETELY insane and means nothing and it's beautiful.

When zombie media focuses on scientific explanations that are just- not science, it leaves out the much more amazing chance for weird story telling. Give me more magic viruses! Ancient curses! Completely implausible viruses that acknowledge they're implausible and don't focus on it!

....also sometimes when people learn I like diseases they immediately ask me about zombies and it makes me want to bite someone.

#ITS 2AM SO THIS ISNT AS EXPLAINY AS ID LIKE BUT #I HOPE THIS AT LEAST KINDA EXPLAINS MY FEELINGS #tldr less dead island and quarantine more Resident evil and mlp aus #also one time i rewrote scp-008 to be a magical curse rather than a prion and I stand by it forever

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an-organized-confusion · 1 year

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Because med nerd (and watching a video about BSE)...

So. I called the zombie infection in the iZombie AU “ζvCJD-21“.

Just to break that down - the “vCJD“ part is named after “Variant Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease“ AKA “mad cow disease“.

“ζ“ is the lowercase Greek letter “zeta“... because zombies.

Aaand I think you get the naming convention behind the “...D-21“ part. (Outbreak was discovered that year, in this AU.)

But circling back on the main chunk... something I’ve HCd about the zombie infection here... is that if there is a cure to the infection, that it would still leave a sort of spongiform pattern of permanent damage in the brain. But here, specifically, the parts that process taste/smell. (Some can be compensated from rewiring/plasticity, but not 100%.)

(Though if the zombie progresses past Full Romero, the damage is more... diffuse and everywhere. If they stay fed, the agent behind the infection is stopped/slowed from progressing.)

If Logan has the opportunity to do autopsy on a zombie - that can be the histological findings (under the microscope) in their brain tissue.

(Just thinking of the implications for Team Z here - Janus, Virgil, the twins... and later, unfortunately, the twins’ parents.)

#sanders sides #logan sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #body horror/#(some artistic license of course... but thinking abt this stuff just makes me think of roanoke gaming)#(dig the guy doing medical analysis on body horror media so much)#(a dash of vcjd... a dash of rabies... and also the obscurity on whether it truly is a virus or prion or something else)#(i do have a couple more plot bunnies for this au too)

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canned-goose-feathers · 1 year

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The pile of bloody clothes that has been building over the past few minutes is picked up and thrown into the furnace. Grian would care (he really liked that sweater) but he's too busy rubbing his hands raw.

He looks up to see Scar idling nearby, shifting his stance every few seconds, his eyes studying the floor deeply.

"Did I get it all?" Grian's voice trembles. "There's no more blood, right?"

"You're as clean as the day you were born, " Scar says in the soft tone that always manages to irritate Grian. "Grian—" he starts, even as the avian starts to move towards the exit.

Grian whirls on him, a finger in his face. "No. Don't even start."

"We should really talk—"

"We're not talking about anything. We're going to act like none of this happened. I don't know what's happened but you have a part in it and I'm putting my foot down."

"Grian, you don't understand—"

"Nope! No, absolutely not. We're not talking about it. We're not talking about any of it! All of this," he gestures vaguely towards the unlit corner, now clean of any evidence, "didn't happen."

Scar looks at the floor, then slowly nods.

Grian takes a shaky breath, tilting his chin up and looking at Scar with hard eyes even as he clenches his hands to keep them from shaking. "Mumbo can't know."

Something flashes across Scar's face, some kind of surprise and pain, but Grian cuts himself off. No, he's supposed to be angry with Scar. He shouldn't care.

"Okay." Scar's voice is quiet, reserved. Grian turns and climbs the ladder.

He spots Mumbo standing just outside of his vault looking in. As he grows closer, Grian can see that the man looks good. He seems more alive than Grian's ever seen him, his cheeks dusted pink and his eyes bright. He has a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun, turning to Grian as he lands.

"You're late!" Mumbo says.

Grian blatantly ignores the jab and instead practically tackles him, hugging him tight. "Shut up. I missed you, you spoon."

"I missed you too, G." Mumbo wraps a long arm around his shoulder.

Warm pleasure spreads down his spine from the base of his skull. It takes a second for Grian to recognize the purring of the Entity in his head. It feels nice. It's hard to hate something when it feels so good. A few pieces of the puzzle fall together while a few others are scattered. The Entity . . . likes Mumbo? Grian doesn't have the panicked, frantic feeling he's had lately whenever anyone touches him. Instead, he finds himself leaning more into Mumbo.

When he glances up, Mumbo has this weird, almost blank expression on his face and he's staring off behind Grian. He looks, funnily enough, like he's a computer that's just gone offline. Shifting a bit to look around Mumbo's arm, Grian can see Scar has landed and his face is pinched, his mouth a thin line. Mumbo, on the other hand, is nearly impossible to read. Mumbo, whose smile lights up any room and who, even when he's trying to remain stoic, is about as easy to read as an open book. Mumbo's arm holds him a touch tighter.

It's hard to think clearly with the purring of the Entity taking up all the room. He feels like his brain is full of static, like he can't think about anything other than Mumbo pressed against him. A chirp slips out as Mumbo's thumb runs slow circles on his arm.

"Scar," Mumbo says, his voice carefully neutral.

"Mumbo!" Scar says, grinning widely, his facade back in place, "you look good!"

"I feel it. You've been busy."

"Nothing out of the ordinary, I promise."

Mumbo hums. "We'll have to catch up later then, I suppose."

"Yeah," Scar says, "well, later then. Just shoot me a message. I uh . . . Have to go try and get some redstone working. You know how it is. I'll see you later Mumbo. Bye Grian!"

Scar shoots off with an explosion of rockets. Mumbo doesn't relax until he's a speck in the distance. Grian has to bite back a whine as Mumbo pulls away, but the man's attention is still on him.

"What's wrong?" Grian asks.

Mumbo is quiet for a second too long, his gaze still fixed on the patch of sky where Scar had disappeared. He purses his lips. "Nothing to worry about. How've you been, G?" Mumbo smiles at him.

"Good!" Grian chirps, plastering on a smile, "peachy-keen, just working on builds. You'll like this season's."

He can't help but feel like everything is coming out stilted and unsure, like they're strangers again. He doesn't know why, everything should feel right, Mumbo is back and everything should be right again.

The thing about Mumbo is he's terrible at keeping secrets. Sure, when it matters, the secret will follow him to his grave. But if there is a surprise party, even if it isn't his, he'll be the absolute last to know. He's a wet paper-towel of a human being who crumples under the slightest amount of pressure. His record for "shortest secret kept" was approximately three seconds, when Grian told him about a plan to replace the Jellie in Scar’s mayoral office with an ocelot, at which point Scar had walked in and didn't even get the chance to ask what was happening before Mumbo told him. He claimed later that it was because Scar looked "threatening", to which Grian had replied "It's Scar". Mumbo's known server-wide to be bad at keeping small secrets and fairly reliable at keeping big ones.

The second thing about Mumbo, a sort of addendum, is that Mumbo himself doesn't have secrets. He's an open book, only keeping something back if there's a reason. Most of the time the reason turns out to be "it's funny".

All of that is to say, Mumbo doesn't have secrets. Not usually. But he does have one.

He isn't sure what exactly gave it away; the constant hum of the Entity in his head makes it hard to parse things. But something in the way he holds himself, the way he speaks, everything that made him Mumbo now seems tainted. The Entity presses against the backs of his eyes and makes his vision blur for a second. He clutches his head.

"Are you alright?" Mumbo asks, worry filling the gaps between the creases of his brow, eyes flickering minutely as if looking for some sign of trauma, something to make sense of Grian's pain.

"I'm fine." Grian waves a hand. "Just a bit of a headache.”

"Are you sure?" Mumbo says, and Grian feels a chill run down his spine at the way that Mumbo looks at him. Mumbo is always good at seeing right through Grian. He sees the way Grian makes an effort to maintain eye contact, the twitch of his lips when he's waiting for the fallout of a prank, or the spaces between his words that grow longer. Now more than ever Grian hopes he can't. He imagines Mumbo seeing the writhing, red parasite that has latched onto him, imagines him reeling back in horror at what Grian has allowed inside of him.

Grian swallows bile. "Yeah. You wanted to look at the vault?"

Mumbo's brows draw together, like he's considering saying something. He doesn't. Instead, he turns back to the vault. "It's looking a touch overgrown."

Grian bites back a giggle that has Mumbo raising an eyebrow.

"But untouched. I would have expected it to be blown to smithereens by now."

"Excuse you, I'm very good at following instructions," he points to the sign next to the vault. It's slightly tilted to the side. Grian might have kicked it one of the many times he'd died trying to get in. Who's to say?

Mumbo nods. "I suppose it's a good vault, if you haven't gotten in by now."

Grian wrinkles his nose. "I could have! I just had other things to do."

"Of course, of course."

Grian walks behind Mumbo in companionable silence as the man inspects nearly every inch of the vault, thin fingers running along the waxed copper. He purses his lips every once in a while and hums with some idea, but moves along anyway.

Restlessness gets Grian talking again. "So uh, what's going on with you and Scar?"

Mumbo looks up at Grian. There's something dark in his eyes, hidden behind the mask that is his face. Grian's not sure if he should be afraid of it.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you looked . . . Upset?"

Mumbo frowns. "No just ah, I know Scar has a penchant for getting into trouble. Call it a gut feeling, but I worry Mr. GoodTimes has gotten into something."

Rising nausea climbs up Grian’s throat. The pressure behind his eyes increases, but at this point he's not sure if it's the Entity or just stress. Does Mumbo know? How could he know when he's only just got here? He can't.

Mumbo would... Grian's not sure what he'd do, but he'd do something. There's a part of him that's terrified by however Mumbo might respond—a deep rooted fear that leaves him shivering. Scar hadn't seemed to mind so much but... maybe he and the Entity had some kind of deal? Some thing going on between the two that Grian doesn't understand yet? All he knows is that something's been messing with his head, something has made him into something not quite right and that he can't let Mumbo know. He can't. Not when he doesn't know how Mumbo will respond—not when there's a risk that he'll leave again. Because if Mumbo leaves... that's it.

"Grian!" Mumbo's hand lands on his shoulder. Mumbo is staring at him. Grian finds his breaths slowing, thoughts quieting where once they'd been racing.

"Are you with me?" Mumbo says.

Grian nods.

"You kind of left there, mate," Mumbo says, "Where'd you go?"

Grian's not sure. "Sorry, I've not been feeling . . . I've been a bit under the weather. I'll be alright." Mumbo looks worried and maybe any other time, Grian would mock him for being a mother hen. Instead he waves him off. "Really Mumbo, I'm fine. I'm a big bird, I'll live."

Mumbo, rather dramatically, looks him up and down. "Well, I wouldn't say big."

"I take it back, I'm not happy to see you."

Mumbo bursts into laughter with Grian close behind.

#prion au #hermitcraft #grian #hermitcraft fanfic #mcyt #hermitblr #gtws #mumbo #mumbo jumbo #scarian #tw violent imagery #tw cannibalism #tw gore

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nunalastor · 1 month

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Ask Compilation Because We Are TIRED.

@azzythestupid:

Last night i tried having a dream about radioapple via looking through all your radioapple asks on here

I had a dream about blitzø and striker somehow

Anonymous:

Been watching Taylor Tomlinson's Netflix comedy specials and she has this joke where she talks about how growing up religious made her weird in many ways, one of which was masturbating wrong for her entire adult life. She goes on to explain that because her youth group was told that masturbation itself isn't a sin, it's the lust in your heart when you're doing it, she decided she could masturbate as long as she kept her mind totally blank except for "road trip thoughts (almost there, making good time)." Anyway that's Vaggie to me hjhjhb

@azzythestupid:

Ay did you answer my ask abt the "au where hh characters are in the place of hb characters"? If you did can you gimmie a link 2 it

@blaackbiird:

alla that little red Riding Hood ask but it's Hoodwinked

@xxx-angiedust

"creepy old guy" from beetlejuice but someone for me it's literal

'gum disease' which alastor canonically has black gums from a lack of hygeine iirc

also i love beetlejuice too i would marry him or alastor fr

Anonymous asked:

Since when did the cannibal colony get tumblr?!?!

Anonymous asked:

Blood and cannibalism? Who started this??

-Alastors dick

Anonymous asked:

huskers-bar mom has got it going on~

Anonymous asked:

How Alastor hasn't given himself chronic wasting disease is a mystery beyond anyone's understanding. Either human or as a deer demon, he shows no signs of having gotten a torturous existence via prion.

xxx-angiedust asked:

if gay people don't exist, how are you this popular?

checkmate liberals

Anonymous asked:

Oh, they look good!

-Alastors dick

Anonymous asked:

I know where Eve went.

She was turned into a rubber duck!

Anonymous asked:

Oh! I've found it!

-Alastors dick

Anonymous asked:

B-b-bingus cursed alastor cat

Anonymous asked:

I feel devious, like I'm a little rat scurrying around when I leave a message in a blogs inbox anonymously and they only know me by some goofy ass name I thought up.

-Alastors dick

Anonymous asked:

I just got sent the something anonymously and now I must send it here.

Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby, let me know-

-Alastors dick

Anonymous asked:

I know you know who I am, I'm just hiding from the other people on this blog. It's like the confessionals, you see.

*thump* *bleat* *thump* is canon????

-Alastors dick

I usually hate swifties because of a expierence but ill make an exeption for you cursed mod

-😋

Anonymous asked:

Hii! How are you this hellish morning/day/evening/night ? :>

Love how you and huskers-bar have a ship name now😂

-🦋

Anonymous asked:

Just to piggyback off angeldust never forgiving Valentino and redemption/ forgiveness, I once had a pastor tell me that if I was unable to forgive someone who hurt me badly, then it was ok to just forgive myself for not forgiving my abuser. Forgiveness can come in many different forms and part of redemption is forgiving yourself

Anonymous asked:

wsg

im the person that did an ask on the charlie x al and on how i let my friend used my acc

lemme tell u smth

I WANNA FUCKING DIE THIS FURRY ASS SHIT KEEPS APPEARING ON MY FYP

AND I FEEL SO BAD FOR VAGGIE😭😭

love u btw

muah🥰🥰

xxx-angiedust asked:

"why does everyone suddenly wanna get cartoon characters pregnant?"

i've been writing mpreg since i was 11

xxx-angiedust asked:

i need alastor's tentacles inside me

i need to ripped apart by them like rire in boyfriend to death

@fujillamaparadise asked:

Alastor + Loki = ??????

#nunalastor asks

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witchofthesouls · 1 month

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At least Tarn's a tank and can help feeding the little ones when the nurse sleeps or works.

Unfortunately no. In the donor clause au, Tarn's a Seekerkin mech. Any kind of personal refineries or shared fueling systems will be incompatible with any frame he has.

Nickel had beat that into his head before the impulse to get a botch job from a catalog took root. Tarn simply gets a thing for your own wells and becomes a walking encyclopedia on various personal refineries and fueling systems.

Unless it's bottle feeding, then yes. Luckily, the nurse has fantastic production. There's a nice surplus in the medbay and Tarn's quarters. He gets the bottle for the newsparks can suckle. Thankfully, Seekerkin sparklings develop a fueling rhythm within the clutch, so only one or two (particular to the split-sparks) need to be fed at a time and around the clock.

Seekerkin femmes have unique refineries of pure protoform. The D.J.D. got a good look at yours and are highly curious because it's not the silicone bags that needs to be emptied out before packed away like they're used to.

Helex and Tesarus were in a room with their own out and went, "Oh yeah, those are different. Let's ask Nickel."

Nickel understands what they're asking about. It's the same quirk that's that was an issue in Prion among their own brand of Seekerkin. Because on Prion, everyone had multiple alt-modes. It came with its own challenges to get their frames and coding in smooth order. Depending on the mecha's spark, some alt-mode unique characteristics need to be suppressed or taken out to work with others.

Because Nickel enjoys her submarine alt-mode, she doesn't have personal refineries. She has an external fueling system that's similar to a convoy where the access points are hidden along her torso and the cables can be pulled to a certain distance where it's tapped into her internal hold.

20 notes · View notes