27 // Umbra // it/its // inconsistently tagged hard kinks (including CNC, dubcon, etc.) so follow at own risk // horny anons are more than wlecome, get in here freaks! // dms open for chatting or more, for anyone bold enough to make the first move // will send nudes upon request (i reserve the right to refuse service) // inappropriate blog means minors DNI, you will be blocked // poly and partnered // banner is by oro97, pfp is by dagasi
BLACK = I would date you.
GREEN = I think you’re cute.
BLUE = You are my tumblr crush.
GREY = I wish you would notice me.
PURPLE = I don’t talk to you but I really love your blog.
TEAL = We have a lot in common.
YELLOW = I don’t know you at all.
ORANGE = I don’t like your blog.
BROWN = I don’t like you.
PINK = I think you are unattractive.
RED = I hate you with a burning passion.
WHITE = You scare me.
RAINBOW = BED PLZ.
SCARLET = You have influenced my decision/thoughts on something.
MAROON = You taught me something new.
CINNAMON = You’re a really cool person and admire you from afar. PERIWINKLE = You make me laugh
MAUVE = You are really talented
BLUSH = Seeing you on my dash makes my day a little better.
CYAN = We have very little in common
THISTLE = I only just started following you
INDIGO = I’ve been following you for a long time
FUCHSIA = Your blog content is gold
COPPER = Your blog content is trash (and I love it)
VERMILION = You make me feel passionate
HONEYDEW = I want to call you by a nickname
LAVENDER = You inspire me
CORAL = You’re a meme
UMBER = I want to know more about you
FORGET-ME-NOT = You remind me of somebody
RAZZMATAZZ = I would share my favorite food with you
ARSENIC = I don’t know how to describe the way I feel about you
WINE = You make me feel kinda funny, like when we used to climb the rope in gym class
SAFFRON = I love your ideas
TIMBERWOLF = I trust you
FALLOW = I want to run through the Northern wilderness barefoot with you
PLUM = I’d like to chat with you
TANGERINE = I love your aesthetic
SAGE = You make me cry
CRIMSON = We should collaborate on something!
VIRIDIAN = I wanna hang out on your blog
CHARTREUSE = You’re my homie
BURGUNDY = I get excited when I see posts from you
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The concept of being borrowed is so hot. Your partners friend asking to borrow you, and you don’t get a say, they’re not asking you. Your partner has the power, the say in who can borrow you, who you have to listen to, what they’re allowed to do to you. And you just go along with it, like a good puppy
I saw that post about that one kind of barnacle that forcefemmes crabs and it may have planted a plot bunny in my head.
Human ship responds to distress call from alien ship. It's critically damaged and the crew is mostly dead. Human MC gets exposed to parasite, but their ship lacks a medical suite capable of extracting it safely and since it is technically sapient they can't legally remove it
MC has to cope as "his" body starts changing and he starts hallucinating an avatar of the very apologetic parasite
I think mostly because the implantation was completely accidental and non-consensual. Its species has a very complex socio-cultural relationship with the typical arthropoid host species (which itself has a complicated intra-species history), which has them to nearly being hunted to extinction.
Basically, she's literally two blinks old with only genetic memory to fall back on, and she's terrified
[Image ID: A reply from thriron saying "Why is the parasite apologetic? Because its normal host is more compatible? Not sapient? Doesn't usually forcefem its host?" End ID]
I turn on the faucet, splash some water on my face, look up and-
“Fuck!”
Instinct takes control, spinning me around to look for the intruder that isn't there. My elbow bangs painfully on the wall of the cramped washroom.
“Sorry,” Libby mumbles from somewhere over my left shoulder as far as my brain can tell.
I flinch slightly, resisting the urge to search for the source of the phantom sound.
A different instinct tries to kick in, detached and rational, trying to let my panicked lizard brain know that there is no one who can possibly be in the room with me.
Both voices are wrong. Libby is definitely in the room with me, she just isn't hunched over by the door like when I spotted her out of the corner of my eye in the mirror.
I rub my smarting elbow and try not to think about the itch that has started up where the chitinous mass of her shell has grafted itself to my spine.
But trying not to think about it has the opposite effect. My stomach sinks in response to an emotion that isn't my own.
“I'm sorry,” she repeats.
“Can you please stop apologizing?” I sigh.
“I'm…”
A tingle of frustration jitters through her, tingling through the ganglia that are currently wrapped around my brainstem.
I look back at the mirror, focusing on my own face to let the apparition of her appear again in the corner of my vision. I still can't decide exactly who my brain decided it wanted her to be. I can only ever see her in the periphery. She's just a sort of vague out of focus figure. A random stranger in a cafe I saw once maybe. A curtain of hair and an oversized sweatshirt.
I still don't know why I named her Libby.
“Something on your mind?” I ask her as I pick up the razor.
I set it down again. I haven't needed to shave at all in six days.
“This is like the scorpion and the frog thing? Isn't it?” she asks after a moment.
“The what?” I ask, somewhat befuddled
“I heard Carson and Reggie talking about it when you were asleep,” she explains. “Some kind of story about being unable to resist our nature. I'm the scorpion, aren't I?”
I feel my lips tug slightly into a frown. Her species can't hear, at least not in the way humans do. And I was also not previously aware that she could actually understand spoken Engelsk. I don't know what it all means, but it leaves me disquieted.
She senses my mood and I feel another apology coming on.
“Do you even know what a scorpion is?” I ask, heading her off.
“I…”
Her frustration becomes somewhat bemused.
“Well no,” she admits. “I thought it was kind of like a…”
I don't have a word for the mental image she sends me. Some kind of nightmare arachnid from some unnamed alien desert.
“Yeah, close enough,” I say, somewhat terrified.
“I can't escape my nature,” she says. “I can't stop my biology from changing you. But you aren't a typical host for my species. What if I'm killing you?”
I sigh.
“You're not killing me.”
“But the medications-”
“Are for you as much as me,” I interrupt. “Auto-doc doesn't know shit about how to handle this situation. It doesn't want my body rejecting you before we get to a real medical facility.”
Gods below, but I am tired of the nasty cocktail of immunosuppressants.
“Why did you decide not to go into stasis for the trip back?” she asks in a small voice.
I knew this question was coming. I had been asking myself exactly the same thing constantly since I chose to stay conscious and ride out whatever Libby was doing to my body.
I studied my face in the mirror, the softness of the jaw, the smoothness. My eyes wandered down to my chest, where soft aching mounds were taking shape. I thought about the very real possibility of her repurposing my reproductive system, filling me with her eggs and-
No. Nope, I was definitely not thinking about that outside of the privacy of my own quarters.
Regardless, the thoughts had my heart racing.
“What if…”
Fuck, could I even say this aloud?
“What if we got to Persephone Station and we… didn't go through with the extraction procedure?”
“What?”
“What if we stayed together and… I don't know, tried to work something out?”
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My asexual sexual awakening was like three months after starting E when a girlthing and I compared heights by standing right in front of each other chests almost touching and making eye contact. the deer-in-headlights fear response in its eyes as i look down on it and it realized how much smaller than me it was. I spent like a year chasing that high.
there's a kind of fun thing you can do with a hypnosis play partner over a long enough time period where you can give it triggers associated with all of its go to words and exclamations in response to teasing until eventually you can just say the right word and watch it rube goldsberg machine its way into getting really cutely angry at you and unable to do anything about it except hold whatever embarrassing pose or series of poses you thought were really funny like three weeks ago.
I think broadly the essence of a certain kind of hypnokink is the idea of asserting control over a partner's thoughts and beliefs, in the same way traditional d/s can fixate on asserting control over a partner's body and behaviors. And while frequently this just means hypnosis, there's a really fun casual dimension to 'ordering your partner to think about something'. Or, more effectively and easily, telling it to not stop fantasizing about something until you give permission. It's cute.
while i understand your insistence that all your triggers be given the classic "only when spoken by me and with intent" framing, just think about how funny it'd be if someone at work somehow randomly said the right combination of words and you started barking
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really if you think about it, you're already my doll. i don't even need to do anything. it's not like you can stop me. eventually you'll get sick of biting the hand that feeds you. you can argue all you want, i'll freely admit i'm not really listening. i like the sound of your voice, though. it reminds me that you'll be mine forever.
oh hun, you seem so fun to feed hit after hit to until you pass out and become a perfect little toy <3
Ahh I accidentally hit post on this draft with it empty:((
Please please... I don't need anything other than to be a sweet little toy
I would love to sit on your lap, taking rip after rip of the pen, more and more because you keep pressing it to my lips right after I give it back. I don't know how long ago I took the edible, and I'm starting to get too high to even think about how much more I'm smoking.
My vision is getting spotty, and I can't do anything other than hang onto you. I don't understand why I'm being picked up and carried to the bed, and I can barely lift my hips when I feel my belt sliding undone.
By the time I'm fully stripped I'm out cold, pliable and warm under your hands, dripping down my thighs. It would be fucked up just to leave me here now, right? This is obviously what I want, the way I open up so well for you
So it turns out when you're a girl and also a SWer baddie the stripper actually can like you, sorry I don't make the rules but also you can just take estrogen about it and try it yourself :3
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