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#crab: opens door
aliveahahafuck · 3 months
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So, random funny things that happened at larp this weekend:
I was NPCing as a crab, and at one point, one of the owners, who was also a crab, got this absolute Cheshire grin and ran OOG towards a light post that has been designated as the portal between cities/places within the different larp guilds (ie between all other games put on by guilds within the Underword universe). As more of us saw that and realised what he was doing as soon as we went down, we joined him. And as Crabs were still joining the group, he just started chanting, "COMING THROUGH THE SKEIN GATE: ONE", a few people join him chanting, "COMING THROUGH THE SKEIN GATE: TWO", and finally there's eight of us yelling the chant and at 3, we all shuffle out of the portal and all I hear from a player is "WHO THE FUCK PAID THE FEE FOR 8 CRABS TO GO THROUGH THE SKEIN GATE!?!?!?! THAT'S SO MUCH GOLD?!?!" (Someone who no longer has a crab problem, obviously. Lmao)
I fell asleep at a picnic table because A: the sun was warm, B: it was peaceful listening to the people chat beside me, and C: it was like 11 am and I'd only been up for two hours but had been exhausted the whole time. Except I wasn't completely sleeping, I was in the half awake state you get where you can hear ahit going on around you, but actually processing basically nothing. Because of that, I heard one of the people who I'd been chatting with say, "Should we wake her? There's demons coming." Only to hear what felt like seconds later:
"Hello there, what have we here?"
"It's a nature's hold. Wild animals can't see us."
"I see. And your friend?"
"Ehhhhh, she might be dead, might be sleeping, we're not too sure."
"Okay then, I'll leave you too whateverthis is." (Footsteps as they walk away)
"I can't believe that worked."
"Me neither."
They did end up waking me up and I chatted with them a bit before I fell asleep again for what felt to me like max 30 seconds, but according to my friend was more like 5-7 minutes and was woken up by a familiar voice saying: "Here. This is for you."
And I raise my head and see a hand placing an orange directly in front of me, I look up to the owner of the hand, and it's my best friends uncle, one of the owners of the guild, dressed as a demon with about 4 others and I just kinda blue screen and just say "thank you???" And they all walk off.
Once they're back in plot camp (a cabin a couple meters away but far enough to be out of earshot), I turned to the people beside me and just go: "he gave me an orange? What the fuck do I do with it? I'm not eating the demon orange?"
The consensus was do not trust the suspicious fruit.
(I found out later that he stole it from the player who runs an alchemy shop and also sells snacks; "he took it as he walked by and at first I was mad, but then I realised that demon just took the cheapest item in my shop; I'm going to take that as a compliment.")
Also, the demons just wanted coffee.
I also found out that while I was sleeping, the bottom of my WOOL cloak had fallen off my lap. I was sitting at a picnic table that had an ever growing puddle around it as the day went on. The fucker wasn't dry by the time I got home a day and a half later.
Lil while later, and I, once again, was fucking exhausted. I ended up going into the tavern and just laid down across one of the pew style benches that lined the walls (10/10 wouldn't recommend. Sitting up at the picnic table was better) and took off my belt, which had a few leather bags attached, to use as a pillow. Partly because I wasn't dumb enough to leave them as easy access and lose my shit, partly because the bench was so thin that I wouldn't have been able to comfortably lay down with the one on my back.
The tavern was FUCKING LOUD. Like, holy shit how did I sleep for 1.5 hours with that racket going on, loud.
I don't remember like 95% of what went on, but the things I do remember are someone saying "shit. There's bears outside." Followed quickly by "HOLY SHIT THE BEARS HAVE MAGIC"
And when, I'm assuming, the battle was over, the shopkeeper player yelling out a window, "I'm selling (healing potions), and they're really cheap~~"
Some time later, about an hour into this nap, I'd sat up, stared into the middle distance for a bit, then walked across the tavern to where I'd left my cloak and over vest above a heater to dry, put on the vest, took my cloak threw it down onto of my "pillow" and immediately went back to sleep for another 30 min.
Sunday, I was chatting with a friend when a npc gnome came over and challenged him to an arm wrestling contest. I was also friends with the person playing the npc. The guy I was originally talking to activated a magic item that made him stronger mid competition, to which the gnome activated a "gnomish device" anti magic field and won the contest. At which point he stopped and looked at me:
"You didn't have any magical items on you, right? Or potions?"
"Uhhhh, yeah. I had a potion of purify in my bag."
"Shit. Well, now you don't. It's just water."
He looked so upset that he'd fucked over my potion and he gave me blacksmithing materials as compensation.
It literally took all of 5 minutes for me to get a new potion, for free, because I knew who'd made them, and he knew I play a healer lmao
vlater i volunteered to go grab someone's staff from our cabin. As I'm walking across the central field, all I hear is: "LOOK OUT BEHIND YOU! CRABS!"
I turned to see the person who was playing the gnome, now a crab, just hauling ass b-lining towards me across the field. As previously stated, I'm a healer, a squishy as fuck, lvl 4 healer. I quickly turned and bolted, unlocked the cabin, flung the door open, slammed it shut behind me, and grabbed the staff I was sent to get in the first place. Seconds later the crab opened the door and saw me, this 5foot fuck all human holding this 7foot long staff grinning like a Cheshire cat: "activate magic item: sigil of the weapons master. 7 MAGIC! 7 MAGIC!-"
I like to call that staff "overkill: the weapon" lmao
The owner of it: "it costs 3 gold to borrow it. Unless you're so tiny that it looks ridiculous, then it's free."
I fell into the "Hilariously tiny" group, but also the "we're playing the same rareish race, and we stick together" group lol
After a huge battle where like 9 people died:
"I'm so not getting that staff back. There's no way it survived."
"That's unfortunate, I liked killing crabs with it."
"Yeah, that's always fun, even if its so overkill for them."
(5 minutes later I come running into the tavern again)
"MORE PEOPLE SURVIVED, THEYRE HEADING BACK NOW! (People start excitedly leaving) also, your staff survived."
"IT WHAT"
"It's coming back! I saw Wolfgreir (who had it before the battle) without it and was happy that at least he survived, and then I saw it being carried through the bush, Jaylin (main healer) has it!"
"No way. I was sure it was gone!"
"I can't believe it either."
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crabsnpersimmons · 2 months
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Dear Crabsie,
I have brought thou a gift to defend thyself against any fishy thoughts, especially those which bringeth with them sadness and disdain, have these items to fortify your mind :
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Okay have a nice day 🫂✨💕💥‼️
Dearest Starrie,
I was so thrilled upon receiving your notice of such a thoughtful gift that my joy rivalled that of my passing exam mark! However, I was simply aghast to discover that your gift had fell victim to the capricious nature of my postal service! I was looking forward to disrupting the tender tranquility of my housemates with my sweet kicks, but alas, the universe deemed this gift too powerful—too dangerous on the wrong feet. I am unworthy of such a gift. I only pray that whoever has received such a paragon of personal footwear will give them the honour and care that they deserve.
Your Humble Jestie,
Crabs
meanwhile...
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but where did the other shoe go?
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official-crab-posts · 4 months
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thoughts on maryland
never been. i think its cool they have a state crab though !! the color gradient on blue crabs is very nice. blue crabs ftw. look at them.
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theyre so pretty!! theyre freakin blue dude!!!
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octoagentmiles · 2 years
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how do ya think the octonauts crew would deal with being sleep deprived (mainly barnacles 😳) ? i was rewatching the show recently and there’s quite a few moments where they’re woken up in the middle of the night to help creatures so it just got me thinking :O
I feel like Barnacles has absolutely fallen asleep at the wheel once, which was followed by everyone yelling at him until he went to sleep. They all knew he was tired, they could tell, but he insisted he was fine (as he does), and he was not (as he never is).
Tweak is the most fussy about making sure he goes to sleep. Yes, she knows she's a hypocrite. Sometimes if neither of them can sleep for whatever reason, Barnacles comes down to the launch bay, or they both go up to the gamepod, and they play games until they pass out. Tweak also takes melatonin to help her sleep, but she takes it at a specific time, so if she misses that designated time because they're on a mission she just doesn't take them. Cue her playing video games or working on the GUPs until 4am.
Pirates are made for nighttime adventures—or at least that's what Kwazii thinks, so he'll intentionally stay awake long after he starts getting tired. Barnacles and Tweak have caught him doing this several times, and usually invite him to join their games. He's always the first to pass out when this happens. Kwazii also has a habit of sneaking out to go on "monster hunts" if no one else is awake, and similar to Barnacles I feel like he's definitely fallen asleep at the wheel doing this, in the middle of nowhere, freaking everyone out when they wake up and he's missing.
Shout out to Dashi for being the only Octonaut with a relatively healthy sleep schedule. However, Shellington loves to knock on her door just to wake her up and talk whenever he can't sleep. Peso does it too, but only if she's already awake. If he wakes her up he'll feel bad and go back to bed. It's actually hard for her to fall asleep (it takes a while), she's just good at managing it: she takes melatonin, she plays music/white noise because she can't sleep without it, she cleans and makes her bed, she has a whole ritual. She NEEDS this ritual or else she simply will not sleep. The only exception is if she's been awake for 24+ hours already and she's exhausted.
Shellington falls asleep VERY easily. Like, impressively easily—but he also wakes up very easily. He needs to turn his lab into a sensory deprivation room just to ensure he stays asleep. If he still can't sleep, the Vegimals will climb into bed with him and curl up like cats. It's very effective. If, for some reason, he doesn't want to sleep, he will go down to the launch bay or gamepod to join Barnacles and Tweak, if they're there. He's known about them doing that together since he joined the crew, and if he's bored at 2am he may just take advantage of it. One time, he and Kwazii BOTH joined them, and none of them ended up sleeping at all.
Peso preaches to the others about how important sleep is for your health, but he is more than willing to stay awake for a week straight if he's looking after a patient. He has done so at least a few times. However, Barnacles really doesn't like when Peso doesn't sleep (it's the Dad Instincts™), so he will offer to stay up for him. Usually it works, or so he thinks. Peso has a monitor in the sick bay connected to the screen in his room, it tells him his patients heart rate, blood pressure, other stats, etc. and he'll often stay awake, just... staring at it. Kwazii knows he does this, and will check in on him right before he sneaks out. He hasn't ratted him out yet, but he says he will if he doesn't go to bed (he won't really, but Peso doesn't know that).
Inkling is pretty much nocturnal. He spends so many hours sleeping in his chair during the day, that he's not at all tired when night finally comes around. On the bright side, he does enjoy the dark (being a creature whose supposed to be from the midnight zone and all that), and it's good to have at least one person awake to keep an eye on the ship, or listen for someone who needs help knocking on the door. If they're not with Shellington, the Vegimals like to keep Inkling company. They play board games and watch movies in the library, or sometimes Inkling will read them stories. He also likes to call Min. Depending on where they are in the world, it might still be daytime for her. If not, he leaves her a video message of himself just talking about stuff, or the Vegimals being silly.
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kirnet · 9 months
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Naur I almost got everyone out of the iron throne but the last guy (who already bugged for a round and didn’t move but it was fine bc piff dimension doored him right to the ladder) just didn’t climb up it and ran in the opposite direction. For some reason.
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crab-crab · 9 months
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The Chain meeting Sky fics are such my bread and butter yall. I have like so many different ideas for how it could happen and I wanna write them so bad! I have some for Wild too cause I love the idea of Zelda and Him having a little like ranch (im a sucker for the time, twi, and wild being related) and AAAAAAAAAA
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pawphin · 1 year
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long ramble in tags tldr: kindness rules
#was it genocide that got them to the human world or was it her kindness and promise at the expense of her past#who was ultimately the reason the goldy pond kids were able to survive and escape#who got stabbed by a demon and was in a coma for four weeks trying to protect her newfound family#ultimately shifting his perspective on humans and hunting in general and becoming a driving force in their efforts for freedom#who became best friends with the literal ''evil blooded girl'' and was able to come up with a sound solution to demons needing human meat#in order to maintain their forms#do you think norman would be happier knowing he had to be the sacrificial lamb killing children with his bare hands and fully executing it#do you think ray would be happier if emma had simply let him die instead of giving him a firm dose of reality and helping him to#live a life full of love and support and kindness#of course she isnt perfect and i most definitely would change a lot of things if i could but this is just one of the many comments i see#when youre blinded by hatred you cant think objectively#i understand that norman went through freakish amounts of hell but to put it in my perspective: if i were a demon#i highly doubt that i would fully understand how intelligent humans truly are#you know those videos of people boiling crabs alive and saying ''it doesnt hurt them''#there would probably be a lot of rhetoric around that nature and all i would know is eat human fingertip = go play tag#so why would my parents deserve to die? what difference is there between cattle like pigs and cows in our world to humans in theirs?#anyways. im sorry for liking stories where kindness prevails and opens doors to opportunities previously thought imaginable#i hate constantly seeing this stuff when looking up tpn and it irks me it really does
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tatoasting · 2 years
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I feel a bit sick for a couple of reasons right now but I've just embarrassed myself I think.
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cyanonights · 14 days
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yelling at my past self to stop bookmarking & noting down things only to never return and never condense them down
..only to do the same exact things
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worldlxvlys · 2 months
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I HAVE A IDEA (MR CRABS I HAVE AN IDEA)
yk the new song ari came out with (we can't be friends) Chris fic were the reader and him are best friends that always flirt and they made out drunk at a party and have not been talking for a week untill Chris shows up at her house and they makeout and maybe some smut? Idrk
Anyways that's all 💋
we can’t be friends
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chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: angst, mentions of drinking/being drunk, smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), squirting, cursing
a/n: i’ve been absolutely OBSESSED with this song and itching to write about ittt
i hope you enjoy
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i let out a heavy sigh at his last text, before throwing my phone onto my bed.
of course i wanted to fight for us, but this was about more than just our friendship . this was about what was best for us individually.
for as long as i could remember, i always put chris’ feelings before my own. i spent so long chasing after him, just to end up heartbroken.
i watched him constantly pick other people over me, blissfully unaware of how deeply he was wounding me.
but no matter how much i wanted to, i couldn’t blame him. it was easier to point fingers at him than to accept the fact that this was partially my own fault.
i let him continue to hurt me, over and over again, never telling him what he was doing to me. and if i didn’t tell him, how would he know any better ?
so, even though it killed me to act so cold and distant toward him, it was time to look out for myself for once.
i needed to take the time to love and take care of myself before expecting someone else to do so.
sure, he’d be upset for a short while, but once he got over me he would easily move on to the next girl. that’s all i was to him, after all. just another girl.
i was pulled from my thoughts when i heard my front door open and close suddenly, followed by quick footsteps toward my room.
i waited behind my bedroom door, quick to swing my arm out in front of me when the person made it to the doorway.
i was met with chris, who immediately caught my wrist in his hand.
we stared at each other with wide eyes, neither one of us speaking. i blinked up at him, watching his eyes trail down to my lips.
“don’t do that” the words flew out of my mouth before i could stop them.
his eyes immediately shot back up to mine, a curious expression taking over his features.
“don’t do what?” he asked, loosening his grip on my wrist to let it slide down, intertwining our fingers.
“chris, we aren’t doing this. i meant what i said earlier, we’re better off not being friends”
“you keep saying that, but you won’t tell me why. you gotta talk to me baby” he spoke.
“i don’t want to” i spoke back, shaking my head as i backed up slightly to create more distance between us.
“how am i supposed to know what i did wrong if you don’t talk to me?”
he was right, of course he was. it was unfair of me to just cut him off with no reasoning. but the second we start talking about it is the second it becomes real. i didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that i was trying to end one of the most important friendships i’d ever had in my life.
“you didn’t do anything, chris” i answered. he wasn’t having it. “no, tell me. i’m not letting you just end our friendship like this, not without a reason”
“i just can’t be friends with you”
“why? what is so wrong with me that you don’t want me in your life? and completely out of nowhere” he spoke, his voice rising slightly.
“see, that’s the problem. i don’t want you out of my life, i want you in it forever. but you clearly don’t want that, and it’s ok.”
“who the hell said i didn’t want that?” chris asked, his brows furrowing.
“chris, it’s fine. you don’t have to try to make me feel better-”
“so you don’t believe me?” he cut me off.
“i mean, i don’t know, i just…” my babbling trailed off as i tried to find the right words.
“let me prove it to you” he whispered as he toyed with the strap of my tank top.
my breathing grew shallow as he moved the fabric down my arm slightly, pressing his lips to my shoulder.
“chris….we shouldn’t” i whispered, but tilted my head to the side, allowing him more access as his lips moved up my neck.
“really? you weren’t complaining a week ago” he spoke against my skin.
i slapped his chest lightly at that. “yeah, well we were also drunk”
he bit down on my neck, harshly enough to leave a bruise and elicit a moan from me. “so, you don’t want this?” he asked.
i let out a deep sigh, “of course i do, chris. but do you?”
he looked as though he was going to say something, but i stopped him “don’t tell me yes just because you want sex. i don’t want you to just want somebody, i want you to want me. if you’re just gonna fuck me and move onto the next girl, then forget it” i spoke.
the more i thought about it, the more i convinced myself that he didn’t really want me.
“hey” he spoke softly, cupping my jaw. “this isn’t about the sex, this isn’t even about me wanting you. this is about me needing you. this is about me not being able to live without you. yes, i’ve been with other girls. but there’s a reason that you’re the only one that’s always been there”
“i was so sure you didn’t feel the same, so i tried to move on. but i couldn’t, because none of those girls are you. and i’m so sorry that i hurt you, i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if i have to”
chris looked at me as though he could cry. his blue eyes shot back and forth between my own, his thumb caressing my jaw gently.
“so make it up to me” i whispered, pulling his lips to my own.
one of his arms smoothly slid behind my back, supporting my weight as i found it hard to keep my balance.
he kissed me like he had waited his whole life for this moment. his lips felt so soft against mine, unlike our last kiss.
this kiss made our drunken one feel sloppy and desperate, like two people who were just horny, but this was more than that. it was eye-opening, sweet, gentle, it was everything i didn’t know i needed.
but chris did, he always knew what to say or do to make me happy. i couldn’t stay mad at him even if i wanted to.
“let me make you feel good?” he asked when we pulled away. “yeah” i let out breathlessly, nodding my head.
“lay down for me” he said, leaving another kiss to my neck. i did as he said, getting onto my bed and laying on my back.
he wasted no time in crawling over me, his hands placed on either side of my waist. “can i?” he asked, lightly tugging at the hem of my top.
i nodded at him, lifting my upper body up as he pulled off my top. without a word, he attached his lips to my nipple while caressing the other with his hand.
i let out a loud moan at the feeling, beginning to squirm underneath him.
“shit, chris” i sighed out, his eyes immediately looking up at mine.
he swirled his tongue around the hardened bud, watching as my body melted into his touch.
he sucked on my tit until the skin turned dark, moving to the other to give it the same treatment.
“god, chris. feels so good” i moaned out while he continued to work my sensitive nipple with his tongue.
“you look so pretty like this” he rasped as he soothed my boobs with his hands, “can’t believe i have you all to myself” he mumbled to himself.
he moved his face downwards, leaving gentle kisses to my rib cage and abdomen. he paid special attention to every birthmark and scar he found, pressing a kiss to each one.
his fingers rubbed small circles into my skin as he ventured further and further down my body.
he stopped at the waistband of my shorts, leaving a kiss to my crotch area. due to the thin material or the shorts and my lack of underwear, my hips shot up involuntarily at the feeling.
“no underwear? such a dirty fucking girl” he spoke, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
he licked a long stripe up my pussy through the shorts, eliciting a long whine from me. “chris, stop teasing me” i spoke as i squirmed under him.
“you just make it so easy, baby” he spoke, before continuing to leave kisses down my thighs and calves.
“lift up” he spoke as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts. i raised my hips, allowing chris to pull them off.
i let out a sigh at the feeling of my heat being exposed to the cold air of the room.
chris stared down at my glistening pussy, mouth hung open slightly as he pulled my folds apart, spreading me open.
“my god, you’re so gorgeous” he spoke, blowing cool air onto my heat.
“hold your legs apart for me, beautiful” he spoke, his lips inches away from my core.
“so wet” he mumbled before running his tongue along my thighs, just missing where i needed him.
“chris, please. i need your mouth so fucking bad” i whined. “where, baby?” he asked, teasing me some more.
finally having enough, i wrapped my legs around his head, pulling his face into my heat.
he let out a long moan into me, his eyes rolling back as he licked up every drop of my slick.
my head fell back at the feeling, legs loosening around him to let him pull back if needed, however he stayed right where he was.
the words that fell out of my mouth sounded like gibberish, but i didn’t care about that. all i could focus on was chris.
the way he groaned into me, his needy tongue lapping me up like i was his last meal. his piercing eyes never left mine, only making the tight feeling in my stomach grow.
my arousal covered his flushed cheeks, making me even wetter.
there was something that i found so incredibly hot about how messily he was eating me out. it was like all he cared about was me finishing.
he moved his face from my legs, making me let out a whine at the loss of contact.
he stuck his tongue out, his spit dripping down onto my pussy.
“what do you think about when you touch yourself? ” he asked suddenly while he brought his finger down to my core to rub me.
“i- oh” i cried out in surprise at the feeling of his finger entering me.
“holy fuck, you’re so tight” he whispered as he pushed his pointer finger in and out of my tight walls.
“oh my god” i whimpered when he pushed another finger in.
“if you don’t answer me, i’m stopping” he spoke.
“this! i think about this!” i rushed out, eyes screwing shut at the feeling of his rough fingers inside of me.
“i think about how perfect your hands are. fuck- how long your fingers are” i struggled out between moans, “i think about you” i finished.
“yeah? what about my cock?” he asked as his fingers sped up.
“you think about what it would feel like for me to fuck you into oblivion? ” he asked as he curled his fingers, hitting my g-spot.
“fuck, yes! i’m so close chris” i cried out as he continued to plunge his fingers in and out of me.
“c’mon, you got it. doing so well for me, want you to make a mess all over me” he rasped out, fingers moving rapidly inside of me.
“chris, wait! i’m gonna-” i tried to warn him, but i was too far gone as my juices shot out of me.
the liquid dripped down his face, onto the saturated sheets underneath us.
“yes, yes, fuck yes” chris groaned as his mouth hung open. i leaned up slightly, watching the way his hips stuttered and his body shook.
“fuck” he let out breathlessly, as he began to shudder.
“did you just come untouched?” i asked, eyes widening slightly.
“if that doesn’t prove how much i want you, nothing will”
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wait why’d i kinda eat ??? 🤭
masterlist
tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nicksmainbitch @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris
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extinctionstories · 1 year
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Two hundred years ago, the wetlands of Japan rustled with pink-tinged feathers. Tall, pale birds stepped carefully through reeds and iris, hunting small fish, crabs, and frogs. 
Nipponia nippon, it would be dubbed by the national ornithological society, a bird emblematic of its country. The Crested Ibis. The Toki. The Peach Flower Bird.
Marshes slowly changed to rice fields, with farmers who resented the toki for ruining crops; to kill the birds was outlawed, so children chased them from the fields, singing warnings.
The doors of the country were pried open. Laws changed. Farmers bought their first guns, their sights set on birds who were no longer protected. The toki, the red-crowned crane, and many others began to suffer. But the worst was yet to come.
Pesticides are indiscriminate killers. The poison sprayed to kill a beetle can travel up the foodchain, toppling a cascade of larger animals, or affecting their ability to reproduce. It was reckless pesticide use that nearly wiped out the Bald Eagle. In the rice fields, the peach-flower-bird had little chance. 
In 1981, Japan’s last five living toki were removed from a wild that had become too dangerous for them.
I tell a lot of sad stories here, about mistakes we’ve made and animals we’ve lost. This isn’t one of those. This is a story about one of those precious times when we were able to fix the things we’d broken. 
A joint effort between Japan & China, and the discovery of seven more birds in that country, led to a successful breeding program, which in 2008 saw the first ibises fly free again in Japan. Today, at least 5000 toki exist in the world.
The last wild-born toki, one of those captured in 1981, lived almost long enough to see her species’ return. Reaching the equivalent age of a centenarian human, she died in 2003—not of old age, but injury after throwing herself against her cage door. 
Her name was ‘Kin’. ‘Gold’. 
Mended things can never be as whole as they once were. There will always be cracks that show, weak spots that remain vulnerable. Yet, like the shining seams of a kintsugi piece, these scars speak an important truth: here is a thing that someone chose to save; handle with care.
The title of this painting is ‘Restoration’. It is gouache on 22x30 inch watercolor paper
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notmyneighbor · 2 months
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Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 9
Word Count ~ 5.5k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ doppelgänger sex, body horror
Also available on AO3
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
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Francis Mosses’ route is almost done for the day.
He normally started with the farthest destinations first and then worked his way backwards, finishing close to his home in the DDD sanctioned apartments.
But there had been a last minute add on, sending him back out again, further from the city and into the suburbs. He’s tired, as always, the early start to each shift, the thin walls of the building that do nothing to suppress the activities of his neighbors taking their toll. He rubs at the drowsy lids that keep insisting on shutting. Almost finished. Just this last one. Humming to keep awake. He should stop on the way home, pick up something for dinner. But that would mean delaying his return. Did he have the energy to even cook?
He’s thinking about you, the pretty young woman that guards the entrance now. The best part of his day. He should get you flowers. Say something, anything, instead of just polite formalities. Maybe today would be the day he found enough courage to express his feelings.
A little more alert now. His eyes flick to the paper on his clipboard. Yes, nearly there. He’s not familiar with this road. The houses are not as well kept. Some even look abandoned. Overgrown lawns. Broken windows. A tendril of misgiving curling around him. Something felt wrong. Maybe he should just say he couldn’t find the address. Offer up this part of the route to someone else working for the company.
But what if the person really needed it? It wasn’t fair to discriminate, was it? That sense of duty keeps his right foot pressed on the pedal. He’s going to finish the job.
He’s reached his destination. It’s difficult to see the numbers, half hidden by the weeds threatening to overtake the mailbox. At least the window panes are intact in this dwelling. Curtains cover the interior completely. The entire home is encased in shadow, darkness that seems to sap the sunlight from above.
The milkman shuts off the engine, easing out of his seat. He’s a little stiff from the long drive, the lateness of his shift. He touches one ear to a shoulder, repeating the process for the opposite side. A satisfying series of cracks. The rear compartment slides open and he lifts the wire rack from storage. The sun is strong against his back, a little perspiration making the white material of his workshirt cling to his skin. He’s suddenly craving something cold to drink. Maybe he should just invite you out. There would be enough time before curfew. Sodas at the local diner. He imagines you blushing that pretty pink shade, your hand covering your mouth. Shyly accepting his proposal.
Francis isn’t really paying attention to the cement walkway he’s traveling on that leads to the front door, ignoring the crab grass poking through the seams of each concrete slab. He doesn’t spare a glance for the peeling paint of the clapboards, the tarnish of the metal doorbell. The door creaks open and he’s got a smile on his face, his customary greeting for customers combined with thoughts of you. Just a heartbeat shy of reacting in time to who—what— waits for him in that dim interior, the hand reaching for the handle of the basket changing course at the last moment, latching onto his wrist and dragging him inside, the basket falling from his fingers, the glass shattering, spilling dairy product over the entryway.
He’s pulled off balance, thrust to one side, barely managing to keep his head from cracking against the wooden floor. Subflooring, not even a proper finished layer. No furniture inside. The home was stripped bare, except for the heavy drapes over the windows, the last illumination from outdoors disappearing from view as the door slams shut. The air is stale, musty. He feels the dust beneath his fingertips. No one has been inside here for a long time.
He’s barely started to struggle to his feet before the creature is upon him. Doppelgänger, he thinks with panic. It has to be. Hands pin his wrists down to either side of his face, his body shoved down beneath the heavy weight of the invader.
It’s not the first time he’s encountered one directly.
Once, when he was younger, he’d gotten separated from his mother at the supermarket. Not paying attention, distracted by the array of goods on the shelves, lost in whatever daydream had overtaken him, until he’d felt the hand on his wrist, the hand that didn’t belong to his parent or a concerned employee or fellow customer, but a doppel. The feeling of claws digging in. Seeking to break the skin, to draw out some blood, just the smallest amount needed to copy his appearance. The pain before an off duty DDD member had thankfully intervened had been sharp, hot, an intensity he’s still never forgotten years later.
This was not that feeling. This is like being submerged into a warm bath, but the water was sticky, cloying. It hurt, but there was something pleasurable about it as well. A kind of numbing tranquility. Pressing against becoming pressing into.
Hold still.
The command said aloud, or in the depths of his mind, he can no longer tell. One last burst of adrenaline making him struggle. The quick, disdainful flick of a claw, the alien’s true appendage, dragging across his skin. He feels the flecks of blood spattering near his collar, hears the wet collisions with the starched fabric.
“God help me…”
The only part of a plea or prayer he can muster. There was no escaping this. He can feel the thing burrowing inside of him. How was it even possible? The doppels only cloned or consumed humans. This merging was something new.
He can feel it digging around in his brain. Sifting through his thoughts.
A DDD establishment resident? Challenging.
Your face. He focuses on it in his mind, recreating each detail of every feature. The scent of you. Summer flowers.
Who’s this?
Don’t hurt her. Don’t you dare—
The numbness has worn off. It is no longer a soothing feeling. He is burning from the inside.
I won’t let you harm anyone. If you’re going to be me, then be me. You’re not going to hurt anyone ever again.
Let me in. Let me in, stop resisting.
Forgive me.
What’s happening? Changing me, I’m not…
Not one or the other. Combining.
Something new.
***
“Francis, wake up.” The doppel’s eyes fly open. A moment of disorientation and panic visible on his features until his eyes find yours in the wan morning light spilling in through the farmhouse window. “I think you were having a nightmare.”
Your hand rests against his bare chest, feeling the pounding of his heart. What would an invader dream about that would make them so afraid? Being discovered? Destroyed?
He reaches a hand to touch your cheek. “Sweetheart.”
“I’m here, love. It’s okay. You’re okay.” You kiss the corner of his mouth. He turns his face slightly and captures your lips again. Hungry. Nipping at your bottom lip. He’s turning, rolling you beneath him.
“My love. Mine.” Tasting your neck. His palm warm and heavy as it dips beneath the scooped neckline of your nightgown. He rolls your nipples between his thumb and index finger, tugging lightly, bringing them into stiff peaks. You squirm, writhing beneath his touch, the mouth of your sex watering for him. Always so ravenous. You can never get enough.
You’re not wearing panties. It’s easy for a pair of fingers to slide right into that warm, wet tunnel. Your breath hisses. He steals the next one, his mouth covering yours. Your fingers wrap around his forearm as he begins sliding the probing digits in and out.
“I want to devour you.”
“Yes, Francis, please…”
“Eat you and then fuck you,” the copycat’s voice continues low beside your ear. “You’re mine.” A growl. His tone coarser. A little more of the doppel side of him showing. Possessive. Aggressive. Acting in retaliation to something in the dream he’d felt threatened by.
“I’m yours.” Your pelvis rocks up against his hand. “It’s you that I love, that my heart belongs to.”
“What’s inside…”
“Yes, what’s inside.”
“Mine forever.”
“Forever.”
He moans against your neck. A broken, human sound. Lips trembling. Pressed gently in a line down your body, the fingers still thrusting in and out, tongue darting out to taste between the petals of your flesh, nose digging into your mound as he grinds his mouth against your clit, sucking. Your hand is now buried in his hair, your eyes watching the way the rising sun filters through the lace curtains, dappled light and shadows painting your torso, lighting threads of gold and chocolate in his hair, on the fine hairs that cover his forearms. A haze blooms around him, a shining halo, a precursor to the pink tinged eyelids, the exploring fingers now withdrawn, claws just peeking out, hinting at what lies beneath, his tongue replacing that vacancy, no longer the short one belonging to the man whose body he inhabits but something serpentine teasing inside, unfurling, squirming, reaching deep, fangs teasing the pink flesh outside, the reddened invader’s eyes asking, begging for permission.
You’re terrified, exhilarated, he’s never been there before, not when he’s like this, he’d been so careful to not let the beast out and you haven’t pushed him, it’s only been a week but it feels like so much longer and you want it, gasping an affirmation, fingers tightening in his tresses. The sensation of being so thoroughly tasted, explored, consumed as the intruder’s teeth sink, pierce, lost in that pad of fat above the start of your sex, his tongue buried inside while he sucks, drawing your bundle of nerves taut against the roof of his mouth drives you right over the precipice, the back of your skull digging into the pillows as you keen, whine, whimper, he drags every desperate sound of pleasure he can from you until you can no longer stand it, overly sensitive, overwhelmed, quaking as you see the rising face of Francis Mosses, no longer giving way to the monster inside.
His next kisses on your mouth are gentle, allowing you to recover, stroking your shoulder, carding through your hair.
“Where did you go,” you murmur, suddenly feeling languid, relaxed, your extremities tingling pleasantly in your post orgasmic state.
“You’re not afraid at all?”
“A little. But I trust you. I know you’d never hurt me.”
“It’s difficult to stop it.”
“So don’t,” you challenge.
“Oh, love, we’ve talked about this. I can’t…”
“Kiss me with that mouth. Your real one…”
“You want that?”
“I want you. I love you.”
“Sweetheart…” His tongue spears your mouth. Still human, still holding back.
You reach down, caressing his hardened cock. “What were you dreaming about? Tell me, I’ll chase them away. Won’t let anyone hurt you…”
“Hnggh…” He moans, his breath quickening. His body shifts, his erection nudging your entrance, your splayed legs tightening around him as he penetrates you, his mouth close to yours. “I was dreaming about the past. The day it happened, when I took Francis. He changed me when I went inside him. Weak body but strong mind. Faith. His feelings for you. I was terrified of being lost in that union. Sharing, merging…unmaking and rebuilding my identity. The way that feels, coming apart like that…”
You gasp and he settles his hips against yours, resting his weight there for a moment, buried inside of you. “He made me want to be him. I couldn’t resist. I’d never wanted anything so badly. Until I met you. The want I have for you, love. The sheer ache of it. I would do anything for you. Risk anything, give anything. You have become my entire world, my universe. The thought of losing you, because of a momentary slip of the reins, because of something I’ve done…I can’t bear it.”
You swallow past the lump forming in your throat. You’d asked him about Francis’ end so many times, halting after he’d stated it would be the end of your reason for he, the doppelgänger, to be with you. But that wasn’t true anymore, was it? Because you’d fallen in love with him. And you felt the same way. You’d risk anything, give anything to be with him. And now you know the truth of it. Why this doppelgänger was so different from the others. Different, because the human whose body he’d taken had irrevocably changed him. Altering his goals, his desires. Tempering the craving for annhilation. Seeking a more peaceful integration. A life with you. The milkman’s final gift.
“I know why you’re scared. I won’t try to push you. I just love you so, so much. I want you to know that.”
“Sweet girl,” he sighs. He’s blocking most of the sunlight now, his face looming above yours. “Just a little. I’ll try…”
You nod. “Let me feel you, love.”
His hips lift. Creeping out of you inch by inch. His eyes changing again. Jaw shifting, mouth evolving. A ripple across the surface of his stretched lips. Teeth parting. He’s entering you again, his cock mirroring the violation of the alien tongue now probing yours. Still gentle, cautious. Your flavor there. Closing your lips over this new shape and texture. Still muscular, smoother, thicker until it tapers at the end, coiling around yours.
Your body is on fire, your earlier release already forgotten as you roll your hips against his. A rough groan. The hand cupping the side of your waist tightens, thumb digging into your flesh. Every time his body collides with yours, the pressure against the bite he’s inflicting sends waves of pleasure through you, your swollen cunt throbbing around his prick.
You’re whining again, a needy, pitiful sound hummed around that foreign tongue invading your mouth, curling and stroking, sharp teeth dripping saliva down onto your lips, sliding over your chin and down your neck.
Then it is Francis’ mouth hovering over yours again, his soft brown eyes gazing into yours as he sheaths and withdraws over and over, a little crooked grin of triumph, pleased he’s done it, he’s maintained control.
“My bride to be, my future wife…” The words becoming temporarily incomprehensible, his face burrowing against your neck. “Forever…eternal…I am yours…” He’s looking into your eyes as he cums, filling you with hot spurts of seed, everything in that gaze begging, pleading, that this will be the time, the future he wants to conceive inside of you coming to fruition at last.
***
You’re watching Francis Mosses’ doppelgänger in the mirror.
Hair tidy, side parted, slicked into place. Dressed in a button front shirt and slacks. Freshly shaved. You love watching him get ready. The care and attention he gives the process. Wanting everything to be proper. Perfect.
“I believe I’m ready. What do you think?” He turns to face you.
“Very dapper. I’m sure everyone will be very envious when they see you leading me inside the theater.”
“I think it will be more the other way around. Beautiful,” he murmurs, admiring your dress, your lips and nails painted to match, a deep, dark shade of red. “And what is underneath this loveliness, I wonder?” His fingers tuck beneath the neckline of your dress, trying to sneak a peak at your lingerie.
“If you start that, we’re never going to make it out the door.”
“Would that really be so terrible?”
“After, Francis,” you reprimand gently. You’re not used to rejecting him. But you think it will be good for both of you to get outside, have a date together. You want him to enjoy every element of the human experience. So much of what he knows is based on war, on violence. Sometimes you yourself get so caught up in your work you forget what it is you’re struggling so hard to protect. Not just lives, but the quality of those lives. You want the best for those residents you guard.
You want the best for your fiancé, too.
***
You’re screened at the entrance of the theater.
It’s nowhere near the level of scrutiny you provide working for the DDD; the likelihood of doppels wanting to infiltrate an old movie house was very unlikely. The bored looking attendant barely glances at your ID’s before waving you through.
“That man is terrible at his job,” your beau murmurs as you enter the theater, heading towards a pair of seats near the back row. There aren’t many people present; perhaps lured by the nice weather outdoors. Enjoying a lazy Sunday afternoon. “Maybe we should have started the invasion here.”
“Francis!” He’s not speaking loudly, but you look around hurriedly. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”
“I’m only teasing, love.” He wraps an arm around you, pressing a kiss against your temple. “No one’s listening, anyway. I’m sorry. It was in poor taste,” he apologizes, seeing your persistent scowl. “Forgive me?”
You tuck your dress beneath you before taking your seat. “I’m not cross with you, I’m just worried.” You didn’t want to draw any attention. As much as you like being out in public like this with the invader, you had to keep reminding yourself that you’re still at war. He’s still seen as the enemy, and no amount of declarations of affection for you would ever convince the DDD of his innocence. It was dangerous for both of you.
“Stop worrying. You’re meant to be having fun. Relax and enjoy this,” he whispers beside your ear. “No one knows. We’re okay.”
You try to comply, willing your furrowed brow to straighten. This had been your idea, after all. He was right. No one was paying any attention to you. Everyone present was seated in front of you, all facing the curtain shrouded film screen. Your doppel’s arm curls around your shoulders and you let yourself melt against him, the tension easing. Trying to recapture some of that feeling you have when you’re together at the farmhouse, away from the city, away from prying eyes. Your own little safe haven.
At last the heavy drapes shift aside, revealing the screen beneath. The sound of murmured conversation is extinguished, the only noise the occasional rattle of a straw in a cup, fingers digging into a box of candy or bag of popcorn. You have some chocolate in your purse. You withdraw it now, thumb dragging along the paper wrapper, trying to be quiet as the film begins.
The Warner Brothers logo appears. Then there is a map overlaid with the opening credits before the focus shifts to a rotating globe. You glance at your companion. His eyes are fixed on the screen. There was the invader’s original goal, so tantalizingly out of reach, that objective shifting to a very normal life with you, pretending to be human.
You squirm a little restlessly in your seat. The copycat’s thumb strokes your shoulder. “Easy, love. It’s okay.” His breath hot by your ear. “I love you.”
The words instantly soothe you. You manage to tear the foil and extract a piece of chocolate, already starting to melt. It was warm inside the theater. You offer it to your companion, watching his features as he takes the rectangular sweet between his teeth, breaking off a section and chewing, considering. “Good. Not as good as the jam. Not as good as you, but nothing is,” he whispers, mouth pressed close to your ear again. He accepts the remainder and his tongue darts out to taste your fingers, reminding you of the previous morning, when he’d invaded you with his real one, your pussy and your mouth teased with it, the familiar warm pulse between your legs asking for more.
You struggle to return your attention to the screen, absently slotting the next piece of candy into your own mouth.
It’s different watching the film again now that you’re older, in a serious relationship. The sheer ache of the tragedy of it all. The woman thinking her husband was dead, killed trying to escape a concentration camp. Falling in love with another man. Leaving abruptly to nurse her spouse back to health after learning he’d survived. The bitter conflict of the backdrop of the world war. Meeting again. Forced to choose between both men she loved. The nightclub owner insisting she leave, promising she’d regret it if she didn’t, a famous line of dialogue that was so often quoted.
It’s impossible not to see some parallels with your own romance. Choosing between Francis and the doppelgänger. A war that encompassed the world, this one not with other nations within that globe but alien invaders. What was the greater sin, betraying your heart or betraying the human race?
You’re quiet as you leave the theater, squinting against the dazzling sun outside. Francis’ doppel offers to drive your car and you let him, staring out the passenger window, watching the brick and mortar surrender to the trees and fields you’ve been missing already.
“This melancholy concerns me.”
You turn to find the milkman’s copy staring at you, eyes darting occasionally to check the road ahead. Empty, as it so often was.
“I’m sorry. I meant to ask if you enjoyed the film.”
“I enjoyed being with you. I always do.” He focuses once more on the path, steering around a deep dip in the ground. “That’s the hole the truck struggled with,” he murmurs. You’re so accustomed to it your body runs on autopilot, maneuvering around it without even thinking. “You’re worried about us being discovered.”
You chew on your bottom lip, silently cursing yourself. “I didn’t want to ruin the experience for you.”
“You didn’t, love.” One hand leaves the steering wheel to cup your cheek.
“I don’t want to get caught. It would kill me to lose you. Absolutely destroy me. I can’t, Francis. I can’t lose you twice.”
You’re jostled as the car abruptly leaves the road, pulling into one of the fields near your house. The doppel hurriedly shifts the gears into park, cutting the engine with a rough turn of the key. He turns to you, one arm resting on the back of the bench seating. “Listen to me. You’re not going to lose me. I’m not going to let anything happen to either of us.”
“You don’t know that, though. Sooner or later someone is bound to find out.”
“Leave the DDD.”
“Francis, we’ve talked about this.”
“Leave the DDD and move in with me. Here. At the farm. Or wherever you want. Just get away from all this.”
“Francis…”
“Be with me. Please, love.” His fingers curl around the side of your neck, his lips brushing yours. “I couldn’t do it. I could never give you up like Rick did with Ilsa in the movie. You’d be safer without me, but how could I ever want that, how…”
“I love you. I’d never leave you. Never.” You kiss him, your mouth rough against his. His tongue strokes yours and the heat you’d experienced in your core earlier returns. Your fingers break through the carefully coiffed stiff strands of hair, returning them to their natural, untidy form. His fingers work on the buttons of your dress, his mouth now laving at that exposed patch of skin below your throat.
You’re so close to home, but it’s impossible to wait just those few more minutes, exiting the car, allowing your body to be pressed down into the fragrant grass. He strokes up your thigh, nudging aside the fabric draped over you, a little hum of appreciation escaping when he feels the new satin that covers you.
You’ve never owned so many pairs of lingerie, so different from the standard fare you’d worn before. You like the feel of it clinging to those intimate places, like the reaction of the doppel every time he reveals them, like unwrapping a gift, fingers shifting each piece, palming your breasts, your sex. He makes love to you under that open blue sky, in that clear air that’s just starting to turn a little cooler as the afternoon bows to evening.
Back at the house, you’re assisted in preparing dinner, steak and baked potatoes and green beans while Perry Como croons in the background.
Till the end of time
Long as stars are in the blue
Long as there's a spring, a bird to sing
I'll go on loving you
“Move in with me,” the pretender says again, drying his hands on a dish towel, then slotting his hands on your waist after you’ve finished sliding the potatoes into the oven. “I want this every night.”
Till the end of time
Long as roses bloom in May
My love for you will grow deeper
With every passing day
“After you meet my parents. Then we’ll move in together. One more week.”
Till the wells run dry
And each mountain disappears
I'll be there for you, to care for you
Through laughter and through tears
The smell of the meat sizzling in the fry pan on the stove makes your stomach growl. You’re starving. Always so ravenous, now. Working up such an appetite.
“Dance with me after dinner.”
“Yes.”
So take my heart in sweet surrender
And tenderly say that I'm
The one you love and live for
Till the end of time
After dinner, in his arms as promised, he steers you in a neat circle.
“I had a wonderful weekend with you.”
“It’s not over yet.” He kisses your neck, his hands sliding over your abdomen. “I hope…”
“I know. We’ll keep trying, love.” You want to give him a child. That fear still there. Discovery. You were never as devout as Francis had been. Would it be blasphemous to pray? To ask for help, protection, mercy for a creature that was so reviled?
He switches off the record player and the final lamp in the living room. There is now nothing but moonlight to guide you.
He settles onto the couch. You sit beside him. The ticking of the grandfather clock is loud in the sudden stillness. Your mouths collide. A different kind of hunger afflicting you now.
“You’re still hiding from me,” you chide gently, sliding a hand over one thigh, moving to the front of the fly of his pants, where the bulge fits neatly into the curve of your palm and fingers.
“About that,” he murmurs. “Partly it’s for fear of losing control.”
“You won’t,” you reassure him, sucking at his bottom lip.
“Partly because I wanted to fill you with human seed. Our best chance to make a baby.”
“And the other part?” You prompt, sensing there is still something left unsaid.
“I’m not sure if you’d like it.”
“You mean find it appealing?”
“Yes,” he admits reluctantly.
“I love every part of you.” Your hand squeezes and he sucks in his breath sharply.
“You really do, don’t you?” This said with a kind of wonder and disbelief.
“Is it really so strange? You find me attractive, and I obviously don’t look like your kind.”
“You are beyond attractive. You are gorgeous. The softness of you. That texture. The flavor…” He kisses your jaw. “I can never get enough.”
“So you can relate to that feeling of being addicted.” You’ve slowly begun to unfasten his belt, now working on the button and zipper.
“I wonder how much of that isn’t a result of the bites.”
“I think that contributes to it.”
“I didn’t know they’d have that effect.”
“It’s all new. Uncharted territory, didn’t you call it?”
He hums in agreement, the sound changing to a moan when your fingers dip beneath his briefs. “I’m tempted.”
“Do it.”
“What if you don’t like it? It would ruin things…”
“No. I want it feel it. In my hand. In my mouth. Inside of me.” He shudders against you. “I love you, my doppelgänger.”
A growl. The leash slipping. He nips at your ear lobe. “Sweetheart, if that’s what you really want, I’ll give it to you. It’s all for you…”
Heat against your hand, not the customary warmth of that reproductive organ but something else, a scalding kind of sensation. The flesh morphing, rearranging beneath your fingertips. Growing slicker. Reminiscent of his true tongue, the structure thicker at the base, narrowing at the end. Root, tentacle, something else, no word for that pulsing member you hold in the near darkness.
He’s sweating with the effort of restraining himself, tasted every time your mouth touches his, salted kisses accompanied by your hand cautiously sliding along the length, exploring, forced to stretch your arm as you caress the alien’s cock, finding the head at last not so unlike the human one, ending in a kind of domed, mushroom shaped tip. Fat, thick, it would definitely stretch you. The thought of it makes you shiver, your body drooling arousal.
“Does it feel good? I don’t know if I’m doing it right…”
“It is…” He says a word you don’t recognize, something in his native tongue. You can’t replicate it. “That’s why I didn’t tell you my name. You could never say it. Even what I just uttered isn’t quite…fuck. Right there. Oh sweet girl, you’re always so perfect for me. Sit on it, sweetheart. Let me fuck you.”
Your heart is pounding as you stand long enough to pull your dress off overhead and remove your panties, climbing over the doppel’s thighs, that foreign prick tapping impatiently against your bare stomach. His hands clutch your buttocks as you raise yourself, guiding his dick into position. Your breath saws in and out roughly. Almost panicked. But so aroused. It’s too late to stop now. You’d asked for this. You asked for this and now…oh. Inside of you. A burning stretch, like having your maidenhood taken again for the first time. A whimper escapes you. Somewhere between pleasure and pain. Blurring from one to the other. Filling you. So warm inside. You can’t possibly fit all of it in there. A sob of frustration.
“My love,” he croons soothingly. “Our bodies weren’t meant to fit together, the anatomy, you can’t…”
“I want all of it,” you say stubbornly, disappointed. Feeling like you’ve failed him somehow.
“Look at how well you’ve done, sweet girl, letting me inside…” His hand strokes over your abdomen and you mirror his movements, feeling the bulge there. “Fuck me, sweetheart. I want to make you feel good.”
Your hands grasp his shoulders as you lift yourself up, supported by his hands, some supernatural strength from the invader providing assistance. Back down again. Up and down. A rhythm building. You’re getting used to it, slowly but surely. That tender ache within you starting to evolve into something else. A coil of pleasure knots your insides.
“Tell me your name. Even if I can’t say it…to hear it…” A foreign word. “No. From your tongue. That mouth…”
“Risky, love. Can’t…” The hands holding you are shaking. “Even this is…”
“What…what is it? Tell me.” You’re properly riding his cock now, grinding yourself down as far as you’re able.
“It’s dangerous. The desire to be let out…tear free…love, it’s…I can’t stop it…”
The coil inside of you snaps, your orgasm ripping through you. There is something else, something searing hot spilling into you, the stream of it running out as he lifts your body clear of his, then cradles you against him.
“You didn’t warn me,” you chide softly when you’ve recovered, your fingers gliding curiously across the trail of slick cum streaking your thighs. “There’s so much of it.”
“Wanted it to be a surprise.”
You slap his arm playfully, then rest your forehead against his. “I told you you’d be okay.”
“Are you sore?”
“A little. It’s okay.”
“I don’t like hurting you.”
“I wanted it. I don’t regret it. I’d like to do it again sometime.”
“My love, what am I going to do with you?” He says in mock exasperation.
“Hopefully marry me.”
“Oh, that’s definitely happening. Speaking of which. We need to plan that out. The details of where and when.” He makes a little disgruntled sound. “Can we go take a bath? This is getting rather…unpleasant.”
You can’t disagree, the feeling of being so damp and sticky, the decreasing temperature and congealing nature of the ejaculate getting more and more uncomfortable to be lingering in. “Yes. Let’s go upstairs. We can plan things out while we wash up. Then it’s bed time. We both have work in the morning.”
“I love you,” he says softly. “I’m so grateful you love me. The real me. I like being called your doppelgänger,” he adds, stealing a quick kiss before you scoot off his lap, allowing him to stand. You manage to find your discarded clothing.
“Well, it’s the truth. You are mine.”
He hastily buttons the front of his pants to keep them from sliding down as he rises, reaching out to take your hand, leading you to the foot of the staircase.
“Do you have a last name?”
The doppel chuckles. “Get upstairs, you.”
“I think I’m entitled to know, seeing as how I’m going to be your wife.”
“I’ll tell you my real name. Soon.”
Another kiss in the dark, the promise of a shared secret.
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dadsbongos · 8 months
Text
ANOTHER ONE
fucking stupid part 2 i did for my yuuji fic for ao3 :) and decided to post here lol
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2.1 K words
warnings - 18+ mdni !!, pwp, penis IN vagina, thigh fucking, tummy bulge (+pressin on it), minor headlock action, yuuji is hesitant but not NOT into it, a lot of drool, mentions of sukuna's cannibal past (not sexified)
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Yuuji excels at the single most important tenet of being a boyfriend.
Compromise.
A giver at heart and selfless and so, so loving, he practically bends to your every whim - something Nobara and Megumi love teasing him over. Yes, he would crab walk over glass if you so much as asked, but he will not bend to this.
“I don’t trust you,” Yuuji is stubborn on this, and this alone.
“I’m the reason you’re with her!” the red eye stabs him through your bathroom mirror, “You forget that, vermin!”
“You’re literally in my body,” he sighs, “And keep your voice down, I don’t want her hearing us argue,” at the unimpressed stare Sukuna levels him with, Yuuji only sighs louder, “I don’t know why you even think she’ll want you.”
“I know her body more than you could ever hope to, worm,” if Sukuna notices the way Yuuji huffs, he certainly doesn’t let it be known, “Studied it to perfection years ago, and spent my time in solitude remembering every detail. Every stretch mark and curve and swell of fat - I know her body better than you. I know it.”
Well, he was stubborn on this.
“Be nice,” Yuuji grips the smooth counter of your sink, he could never hold out against you and your batting lashes and sweet voice, “I’m taking over the second she seems upset.”
Another low-lidded, testing glare from Sukuna, and Yuuji shakes his head before throwing the bathroom door open.
“Well?” your fingers lace together in your lap, bottom lip tight between your teeth.
Centuries ago, in different bodies, the two of you were in this same position - with a different question on your lips.
“Well?”
“Well, what?” Sukuna had settled in beside you, the tatami mat squishing beneath his heavy weight and he still towered over you, “Speak up.”
“Well,” you leaned back, head falling against your pillow and fluttering your lashes up at Sukuna, “Would you eat me?”
Rolling over, Sukuna planted a knee between your legs with two arms holding himself from crushing you, the remaining two curled around your waist, “How do you mean, hm?”
Reaching a hand up, your soft palm cradled the unhardened side of his face, giggling when his tongue lolled against the tip of your thumb, “You know how I mean.”
He did. It’s something you’d mentioned since falling into poor health - a stiff question that leaves his heart cold and skin raised. When he should’ve been used to this. He was. He’d eaten many people before you and, even then, he was certain he'd eat many people after you. You’d fed him. You’d helped Uraume cook his meals. You were used to this.
Sensing his hesitation, you slid your hand from his cheek to ghost your fingertips over his lips. Kissing the pads of your fingers, Sukuna’s lids were low as he stared down at you - and he knew the answer you didn’t want to hear.
“It’d be an honor,” you cooed, because of course you already knew which way he was leaning, “To be with you like that. Forever.”
“Greedy,” he teased, slipping from his knees to sit back. He scooped you up with his hold around your waist to settle you atop his lap, his other two hands cupped your cheeks. Your own hand moved down to the base of his throat, fingers tracing the bridge of his collarbones, “Eating you would be a disservice to this beautiful body.”
The word is nourishing, spring water on a dry tongue. You used to fear a long, drawn-out death (not death, not around Sukuna), you’ve seen these same sunken eyes and shaking hands in others. And you did not find them awe-inspiring. But Sukuna has given you no question if his eyes still fell upon you kindly.
You frowned and he scoffed, “You won’t even think about it?”
But Yuuji has no idea about any of that.
Yuuji sits beside you and takes your hands tightly between his, “I can always come back.”
“I know!” you lean in and kiss his cheek sweetly, “I’m just curious.”
Because there has to be something Sukuna can offer if he insists on maintaining this obsession with you (in front of your boyfriend, no less).
“Are you nervous, bunny?”
Your heart beats in your throat. Your palms soak into the sheets when you grip them. Your bottom lip is on the brink of bleeding between your teeth. But no, no you are not nervous.
No matter how much you probably should be. And no matter how much it should’ve taken, Sukuna doesn’t take long to put you on your back - lips locked to yours. He cackles cruelly when you huff after he pulls away.
Sukuna binds your knees together, plush thighs trapped against one another. Releasing one knee just to feed his cock through the wetted spot between your thighs, he quickly flushes his chest against the back of your thighs. Both arms winding around your legs to keep them shut around him.
“So wet from just a little kissing,” he stares down at where the head of his cock peeks out, kissing your clit on the way. He fucks your thighs slowly, taking earnest joy in how you whine.
Your teeth sink into the back of your hand at the sensation of Sukuna parting your lips and bumping your clit with his dick. He groans, deep in the back of his throat, when he can feel that gush of slick from your cunt.
“I knew this brat couldn’t care for my bunny as I can,” he slips from between your thighs entirely to press his tip inside you. Your chest rises in a quick gasp, jerking at the intrusion, “You missed me,” he states simply, settling his weight on his elbows beside your head as he teases slow thrusts, “Cunt’s sucking me back in,” he snickers at your squeaking as his hips speed up, “You missed me so much.”
You have no idea what he’s talking about. But you can’t call him on it when he’s clawing at your sides and thighs to flip you onto your stomach, perking your hips snugly against his.
“I’ve seen him,” his hand presses against your lower belly, thrusting down and deep and hitting that spot Yuuji magically detects and obsesses over - that spot that makes drool humiliate the corners of your lips, “That brat abusing your poor clit. Like you can’t cum without it.”
“Huh…” your mushy brain barely registers the disrespect to your boyfriend, “hey…!”
“Do you wanna show him I can fuck you better?” despite that questioning lilt, you don’t think a response could change his pre-determined mind, “I can make you cum without setting a fire between your legs.”
He pulls out slow and miserable, smoothing the hand not on your tummy down your back and curling into your hair.
Sukuna leans his weight into you when he bottoms out, he laughs watching your cheek smush against your mattress. He laughs as his hand untangles from your hair to squeeze around the soft fat of your hip. He laughs when you wheeze with the springs as he pulls out and thrusts back in, rolling his hips flush against you.
“What a good bunny I have,” he coos, slicking his hot tongue over the exposed flesh of your neck, relishing in how his skin audibly pap, papa, paps against yours. You moan, lightheaded, and your forehead hangs into your pillow. He presses on that spot where he bulges inside you, going mad over the choked gasp in your throat, “My sweet bunny.”
Curling an arm around your throat, Sukuna’s muscles squeeze around the soft flesh of your neck. Desperately, the skin of his chest clings to your back as he leans down, teething at the sensitive spot on your shoulder - the one Yuuji bites and the one he bit for himself centuries ago. Licking the sweat from your body and cackling as you squirm under the slick, wet run of his tongue.
His hips quicken, borderline battering that spot in your cunt to really make you messy. You bury your face into the soft pillow, but Sukuna ‘tsk’s and undoes the arm from your neck to lift your chin. He licks up the drool from your lips and swallows the pitchy moans he’s been starving for from behind Yuuji’s ears.
He consumes you, melding your skin to his and ensuring you cannot leave again.
“Good- “ he grits it between clenched teeth, “girl! Good girl. Good girl,” he grunts each word between thrusts. He groans, thick and gravelly, digging his nails into your soft skin, “My best fucking girl.”
Your face is on fire, the backs of your thighs clinging to Sukuna’s, and the wetness of your cunt stringing between the both of you. Loud, sloppy echoes of that wetness only make the fire burn hotter. You whine, hands scrambling back and clinging to Sukuna’s thighs, nails biting into the thick muscle.
“Aw, you’re squeezing me,” Sukuna refuses to slow down, bouncing your body on his cock from behind, “Are ya gonna cum, bunny?”
And any respect you were trying to maintain for your out-of-commission boyfriend is quickly tossed aside, “Yes! Yes, ‘m gonna cum, Sukuna…!”
“You want me to make you cum?” he reaches both hands down and takes hold of your face, fingers dipping into your open mouth, “Say it, bunny - fuck - say you want me to make you cum.”
As best you can through his fingers parting your lips and pressing on your tongue, you cry, “Please, Sukuna- please, please make me cum. Wanna cum, wanna cum with you, need you to make me cum…!”
“Need me,” Sukuna repeats, palms soft against you despite bullying his cock into your weepy hole, “Need me, need me, need me…”
“Uh… huh,” you whine, the coil in your stomach eats at itself and your thighs shake, “Need you, Sukuna! Need - hah! - need… cum, please!”
“Cum for me, bunny,” he teases his fingers further into your throat, just to see if you’ll remember.
“God- fuck!” your hands cinch around his thighs just as your cunt does to his cock, tugging him closer, deeper as you finally soak him in your cum. Chanting his name with a sugary, soft, “Sukuna! Sukuna! Sukuna!”
You don’t seem to recognize it, the need to cum overshadowing the need to meld your bodies into one.
His cock spits hot cum in your tight, sucking cunt despite the realization. He keeps himself pressed against you, dragging his fingers from your mouth and circling his arms around your soft waist.
Sukuna rolls onto his back, pulling you on his chest and letting his softening cock slip from you. He peppers your raw, marked shoulder in tender kisses - then moving to your neck - then your cheek. He feels your cheeks ball up in a grin under his attention.
Your ditzy head falls against his shoulder and he doesn’t know how much longer he has like this. So he ignores the cooling saliva on his fingers and the mixed cum flowing from your hole and onto his thigh. He never minded the mess before, and he certainly doesn’t mind it now.
“Don’t forget me, hm?” you blink up at him drowsily, “If you ever get tired of that brat.”
You don’t remember asking him to gobble you up, and you don’t remember wanting to clutch his hand in your final moments, but you still see something in him. Something he thought was sealed away long, long ago.
He misses you. Whatever life you shared, he hasn’t been able to mourn.
Giggling, you nod and kiss his cheek. He slips hair from your hair and studies the way you flutter into sleep. Commits it to his memory and lets Yuuji take back the body with little more than a scoff.
You rouse later in the night, feeling your bed dip beside you, a thick warm arm sweeping you into an equally warm chest. A steady heartbeat ba-dumps into your ear. You nestle into the cradle.
“Cleaned ya and then showered,” Yuuji murmurs, lips soft against your forehead, “I take it you liked the big guy?”
Snorting, you nod sluggishly, cheek sticking to his skin, “Mhmm.”
“Good,” he suddenly groans, “Sukuna doesn’t know anything!”
“Mh?”
“I can make you cum without your clit,” he pouts, looking down at you despite your closed eyes, “You believe in me, right, babe?”
“Mhm.”
“Exactly. Thank you!” he kisses your forehead this time, “Alright, we’ll try that another day. Get some sleep already, jeez!”
“Hm!” you huff fitfully.
“Okay, okay,” he whispers, “Shutting up now.”
And, for now, you ignore how right it felt to have Sukuna’s mean fingers fucking your mouth.
~~~
people i think will be into this @moonlitdivination @kingofthe-egirls
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mystellenia · 1 month
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ellie with a clumsy gf ୨ৎ
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summary: how ellie cares for her clumsy girlfriend
content: nothing thats nsfw!! just ellie being a cutie concerned gf
notes: answer to this req!! SHES SO PUPU BABYGIRL IN THAT PIC I WANNA BITE HER JFWIBFJWKRJR. she's actually so beautiful i can't. entirely unrelated: idk how i feel about this... but i’m trying not to be like EW I HATE THIS FUCK THIS ITS SO BAD. like i dont even feel like that but we already know how i feel about this formatting. its growing on me tho
(wc 0.39k) so short i know guys i gotta dip my feet
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constantly laughing but also concerned at how you manage to trip and bump and bruise yourself up on literal air
in apocalypse au, she's always been very aware of her surroundings bc of patrol and combat and stuff so she tries to keep you out of the way of things that she knows you'll bump into
always has an ice pack chilled and ready to go in the freezer in case you bump yourself real hard and it's sore because ice helps bumps not bruise right when you get them (looking at you guys clumsy ladies write that one down)
always warns you about things right as they're happening since you get into things SO FAST
like just as you're bumping into something or dropping an item she's blurting out, "wait! there's- a shirt on the floor"/"remember- that the washing machine door is open"/"baby, you're gonna drop that- just... like you did just now. you okay?"
always asks what you did to get a new bruise. she'll notice a new one and joke, "oh, what did you do this time?" and you'll respond, "i may have walked into the dishwasher while the door was down... but this one doesn't hurt that bad 😁" it's become like a little game
she's become sooo desensitized to any bump or bang sound in the house bc she knows its just you. not to say she doesn't care about you getting hurt--she immediately throws out a "you good?!" or "you need me?"--she just knows you know what to do: ice pack or heat compress. it's routine now.
read that low vitamin c levels make you bruise easily, so always has vitamin c rich snacks stocked up. oranges and strawberries and other fruits, always ready!
she's so stupid in love that she'll cut the fruits up into hearts or try nd make the most simple little animals with them from some mother of 3's tutorial on instagram reels and genuinely gets upset when she can't recreate them.
^ like you notice her absolutely maiming some apples and ask, "ummm why are you slicing and dicing that poor apple?" and she'll mumble, "it's supposed to be a stupid crab."
and for my ladies with darker skin where bruises aren't as visible or even just pale skin that just doesn't bruise easily, she's still just as concerned. and since there is no visible warning of a sore spot, she's hurriedly apologizing after pressing on a sore spot or laying on a tender patch.
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@abbysbug @picklesarenice69
hello to my clitter critters. soooooooo erm sorry about going like basically inactive for like 2 weeks i got into the fight of a lifetime with my mother 😊 we still beefing 😊 dw tho when she's old and wrinkly i’ll have power of attorney and trust the cord WILL be plugged.
like i’m joking but as of now that bitch is an opp fr
but anywhoooo i’m back. and my dinosaur of a laptop had a health scare and i thought i was gonna have to plan a funeral for her but she went to the doctor (apple store) and she's all better. idk how it still works so well now bc my mom got this when obama was still president 😆 don't y'all worry tho this motherboard does nothing but purr we chillin (the fan turns on whenever there are too many graphics moving)
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tinylongwing · 4 months
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A true story:
Nighttime on Rota. It's very dark out. I begin to hear scratching at my hotel door.
I ignore it, but it continues. Eventually I decide I have to know what it is so I cautiously open up while keeping the chain in the door lock, ready to block the opening if it's a rat or feral dog.
I look down. And down a little bit more.
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... Oh, good evening, sir! Yes, everything is fine here, thank you!
Just your friendly local hotel crab 🦀(Cardisoma carnifex, brown land crab)
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insertdisc5 · 5 months
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✨ The In Stars and Time Spoiler Q&A ✨
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it's time. MASSIVE IN STARS AND TIME SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. IT'S GONNA BE SO LONG. LET'S GO
I hope you are aware of The Secret Final Boss because I'm also gonna spoil the crab out of that. If you haven't,
1. Did you know the events for interacting with your souvenirs are randomized for some of them, and also change depending on how far you are in the game.
2. Did you know there's a way to show souvenirs to a certain character.
3. Did you know you can go back to Dormont during the Epilogue.
Figure that out, and come back here! Or watch a let's play online. You can also do that.
I will also try to adopt a ~mysterious cool voice with no exclamation points~ for Effect. Come with me on this journey.
Now. Questions time!
✨ Will you ever make a sequel to ISAT, or make a game in the same universe?
Nah. This was always intended to be The Story. This is your turn to imagine things now.
✨ But so what happened to the Country? What was its name? What about the wishes? What about the colors? What did Siffrin say as an openphrase to open the door to the King's room? What about--
I will not answer those. It's your turn.
✨ BUT THE COUNTRY AND THE COLORS AND THE WISHES
Ok fine. Here are some facts that I alluded to in-game, that I am confirming now.
-The Country disappearing and the events that made colors go away are not related.
-The colors disappeared a loooong time ago, which is why knowing they even existed is a relatively new find.
-A wish made everyone forget the Country.
I will ALSO say that ISAT's map operates on Final Fantasy/General Fantasy rules (i.e. in-universe locations are based off of real ones when it comes to culture, but are not one to one parallels, especially for geography), so no, the Country isn't based on the UK oh my god please do not say that to me again or im deleting ISAT out of your computers and putting legos at the foot of your bed. It's based on another place. You can figure it out, I believe in you.
✨ But why won't you give more info on what happened :(
Can you imagine if I did answer. Wouldn't that be a bummer, whatever my answer was. Sometimes things need to stay a mystery. And also, I don't want to answer <3
✨ Does the world Loop came from still exist after they left? Or is this a get mystery'd situation?
There is only One Timeline and it's the timeline that goes from the prologue to ISAT. Every timeline that gets rewound does not exist anymore, and that includes the prologue's timeline.
✨ What's the deal with Siffrin's dream at the start?
It's Siffrin's dream, but that doesn't mean our Siffrin is the main star.
✨ Is [specific missable game moment] canon?
Every moment that you personally experience in the game is canon.
✨ Is there a reason Siffrin remembers their name but the King doesn't?
What makes you think Siffrin does?
✨ At the very very end of the game, if you look out the window behind the Head Housemaiden, Sif mentions seeing an island in the distance. Is that his country?
It is. It's always been there, for the whole game. You can see it in the distance, too.
✨ Who was the King, before?
He was just a guy!
✨ With the King left remembering in the end, does that in any way change the redaction effect for other people in the world going forward?
That's a fun idea. Maybe!
✨ One thing that never really clicked for me is: Is the sweet smell Time Craft or Wish Craft? Or is the sweet smell TIme Craft and specifically the burnt sugar smell is Wish Craft? Other way around? Does this question even matter since without Wish Craft you can't attain Time Craft in the first place? (To me, yes.)
Wish Craft smells sweet. Time Craft doesn't have a smell per se, but it does do something.
✨ Does Mirabelle retain her immunity to being frozen in time after the events of the game or does it go away after the Head Housemaiden is saved? Or does it persist for a while and eventually fade away?
I imagine the immunity slowly faded away. But no one's left to do Time Craft, so it's a moot point anyway.
✨ How was Odile able to stop Siffrin from looping back during the fight against Siffrin?
In the Discord channel I stated that it's because "she's just that cool", but really, she does have access to some skills that heighten the efficacity of Rock/Paper/Scissors attacks, so it's not too much of a stretch to imagine she could lower the efficacity of Time Craft as well. In this last loop, while listening to Loop and observing, she could figure out Siffrin was looping way earlier than she could in even the Sus Quest, so she made plans. She is Very Smart <3
✨ Will you ever share everyone's full names?
That's artbook content <3
✨ In the ending, what happened to Siffrin's hat?
Flew away. It's gone now.
✨ Looking back at the original comics, and seeing how comic!sif has both eyes at the start of their loops, but in ending sequences is shown with his eye patch...did you ever consider making that concept of sif losing their eye a part of the main loop in either of your games? and if so, was there any reason why you decided against it?
Early on, I did think about making that whole event an event that happens during the loops, but quickly let that go since 1. it would be a pain to write and code (two different sets of Siffrin portraits!) and 2. if it happened, the player might want to look for a way to NOT make that happen and so 3. it would be a pain to write and code
✨ How was Siffrin's homelife before?
Pretty good!
✨ How old were Nille and Bonnie when they ran away? How old was Sif when their home got zapped?
Both were teens.
✨ How old IS everyone?
Siffrin is mid-late 20s. Mirabelle and Isabeau are early-mid 20s, with Isabeau being slightly older. Bonnie is a preteen. Odile is Too Old For This. Petronille, Bonnie's sister, is late teens-early 20s. You can ignore whatever I said in the prologue's artbook, whoever wrote this was Wrong!!!!!!!!!!
✨ Regarding the book that talks about someone who crafted a copy of themself using wish craft: is that meant to imply someone we know is the author (and/or the copy), or is it not directly related to any of em? or is it a "who knows ;)" situation where we can just speculate and theorize either way?
Please check the book again during Act 5! This applies to most items/map events by the way, like the pendant. You can check those during Act 5 and 6 for some fun new dialogue!
✨ Why are Siffrin's clothes so warm looking?
The Country got cold at night.
✨ What's up with Siffrin's pins?
They're made out of a special material. And also, they make Siffrin look cool <3
✨ I want to know the story behind Loop’s different eye shades!
They're blind in one eye. Also, fun foreshadowing <3
✨ What determines whether someone is paper/rock/scissors craft? Is it assigned naturally at birth or something else (and how do you find out)? Does it make you more inclined to use that specific craft or is anyone generally free to use whatever craft they want?
Astrology rules, It Just Is A Thing. Being Rock Type means it is way easier for you to do Rock Craft, but that doesn't mean you can't learn other types of craft, although it's way harder. Doing Craft of your type is instinct, doing Craft of another type would take some time and resarch.
✨What crimes has Odile committed before. I need to know.
Odile just smiles.
✨ Why did the King specifically target the House of Dormont?
I had a reason in mind, but adding it to the game would've added a layer of Explanation that really didn't need to be there. It's just a nice House.
✨ Who was Odile's hatecrush...
Dunno. It's your turn.
✨ What is loop's body situation. like is the surface of their "skin" solid? they did poke siffrin that one time, and we know they aren't cold, but...
I have some idea. But it's your turn!
✨ Would Sif still have looped if they hadn't made the wish he made in the beginning? As in, would Vaugarde's combined wish have made him loop until managing to beat the King?
No. But without time powers, you can imagine what would've happened next.
✨ During the Loop Hangout, how did the rest of the team make it all the way to The King? What about during Act 5?
During the Loop Hangout: with difficulty. During Act 5: Loop was there to guide them.
✨ Is Loop: 1. Actually comfortable with both he and they, but only gave the one pronoun to emphasize the distance? 2. Only using they/them because a large life event led to a shift in identity/ how they'd like to be perceived? or 3. time lops stole he from they they :(
Mostly that first one. But all three of those reasons have a bit of truth to them.
✨ Who cooked crab in the House of Change???
This is a very funny question! I've never thought about it. It's your turn.
✨ What are the Orbs that open the gate? Did the King create the Gate or was it there before?
(did not think about the orbs or the gate beyond "plot that proves there was a journey before") Stop Asking Questions,,,, It's your turn,,,,,,
✨ Bonnie's dialogue is *extremely* accurate to how overexcited kids talk, which is really rare to see. Was that something that took a lot of effort to achieve, or did it come naturally to you?
Thank you <3 I'm just that good. Really, Bonnie is an adult with no filter, and less general knowledge. I'm very glad I managed to write Bonnie well, especially since. I haven't talked to a kid. Since I was one myself
✨ The Spoilery Concept Art. Blease
oh yeah. here have it all. this is what I gave Mimi to do the animated trailer!
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✨ So. What's everyone's favorite shade.
FINALLY the question. Plus I can say shade names now. White = darkless, Black = lightless. Light and Dark is like light grey/ dark grey. Oh my god I'm checking my notes and I wrote a small event I never used about hair dye colors like "midnight dark", "tomato grey", "snow light" past me that's so fucking funny
Anyway, Siffrin loves darkless, Mirabelle is more of a light shade lover, Isabeau loves that lightless (BECAUSE ITS FASHIONABLE OK), Odile likes darker shades, and Bonnie also loves that lightless (BECAUSE ITS AS DARK AS MY SOUL OK)
✨ Are there any bugs you found during developments that you've made into features?
Two! The first one was the ability to ask Loop to just silently hang out during Act 4. I messed up the code and the game softlocked there, with Siffrin and Loop sitting there silently. I thought it was very sweet. They deserve a little quiet time.
The second was in Act 5 - the House map had a lot of issues with the Act 5 map bringing you back to the normal House map. So one of the testers got brought to the normal House map and didn't notice, and interacted with the Mirror on Floor 3, and it gave them the normal interaction with everyone seeing the mirror and taking a picture, and when they went to look at the picture in their inventory, it gave them the actual Act 5 picture. A little bit after they realized the game bugged out, and told me about it, and begged me to keep that in because they were very unsettled by it. So here it is! Beforehand, it was just Siffrin silently taking a picture, so I'm glad I changed it.
✨ Did you ever have emotional difficulty writing the more sensitive parts of the script, like Siffrin’s intrusive/negative thoughts, for one reason or another? Moreover, did you worry the script may be darker than your initial vision for it anticipated?
Not really. The Mirabelle and Odile hangout scenes were the hardest scenes by far because I really wanted to get them right, but everything else was about the same amount of difficulty. And actually, I wanted to go a little bit darker for the script, but I was worried it was going to be too dark... When it comes to the dagger event, I had a whole tangent about Siffrin thinking about the best way to strike, so to speak, but I deleted it because it was getting A Little Too Detailed. T rating come back to me
✨ For the questions you WON'T answer, did you have your own answers while making the game? Or were they left blank?
Some of them I do, some of them I don't!
✨ I loved this game and I want to replay it but I don't want Siffrin to go through everything again!
Here's a little fun fact I decided: if you hit the credits, you helped a Siffrin escape. If you start a new game, you are creating a new Siffrin that you can emotionally tortu-IIIIIIII MEAN, a new Siffrin that you can help. Do not worry about your Siffrins they are fine
✨ A lot of those answers ended up being "It's your turn", huh.
Yea <3 The answers to some of those questions ARE there if you look. Some just aren't. But you can imagine whatever you want. It's your turn! I finished the game! I'm done working! It's your turn!!!
✨ I loved ISAT and it made me feel so many feelings!
Thank you so much. I'm sorry if you sent a message or ask and I didn't answer it. I read every single one and cherish it! Thank you for playing and thank you for writing me a message!!!!! When I get a little down I look at all of those and I feel better. Thank you. I'm sorry I can't answer them all.
✨ What will you work on next?
I have a project I'm currently in the preproduction stages of. I don't want to talk about it until I feel like I have some stuff to show. Plus I still have to make the ISAT artbook and some other stuff, so it won't be for a while. Nonetheless, I hope you will enjoy it!!!
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