I loooove the way you draw blushy Simon, he looks so shy and vulnerable and it makes me want to squeeze him (and play with his tits- I mean what who said that)
I scrolled past a gif of regular plain old markiplier right after reading one of your posts and briefly experienced sexual attraction. Smut so transcendent it allowed me to glimpse the allosexual experience for one (1) second.
Your blog is the blood ocean light and I am simon peering into it and perceiving something beyond my ability to grasp.
that’s hilarious oh my god
hits you with my beam of eldritch knowledge but all it does is make you want to fuck markiplier
Grace loves Simon's pulse points. Simon finds it a bit weird, but doesn't mind much.
Pressing his thumb against Simon's wrist to feel the steady rush of blood in another human's veins. Kisses that linger for a moment too long against the carotid and temple. Pressing his ear up to his chest so he can hear the steady thumping of his heart, slightly sluggish but strong and enduring. He loves feeling Simon's pulse pick up when they cuddle and kiss.
He never thought that blood of all things could be comforting, yet here he is. He loves the life force rushing through their veins, a testament to their humanity, the reason why he can, for the first time in over a decade, feel the touch of another human
Blood as a beautiful, complex, human thing, binding them together, keeping them alive.
Simon hates blood. He's terrified of it, there's so much of it on his hands, there was so much of it gushing into his lungs, burning him, swallowing him whole.
But it's also what makes Grace's kisses linger. It's what makes his face go pink. It's what makes them human.
'If there is still hope, it lies beyond the veil. Hope, in this void, is as illusionary as the starlight.'
There was, all at once, a light so blinding, so bright, that I lost all sense of self. I’m sure I must’ve died, been evaporated on the spot from the brilliance of it. What followed was a darkness that sank deep into my being, I couldn’t see, but I could feel the ever creeping terror that worked its way ceaselessly into my bones.
I knew I had a mission, a humanity to save that would never save me despite how much I lied to myself, how desperately I clung to the illusion that maybe if I just did this one thing, they’d finally set me free.
If we have no hope, then truly, we have nothing left at all. If not for humanity, I clung on to that last dying ember of hope with the clutches of a man beyond reason, grasping hard enough to rend flesh from my bones, clawing toward the smallest grain of sand of belief in something larger than myself, for myself.
And for all my strength and all my belief, I’ve failed. I’ve done everything I can, I’ve sent humanity’s last hope to the surface, and now I am drowning as blood fills all my senses, muffling my ears, blinding my eyes, oddly warm and slick against my skin, tasting of copper and sickness as it replaces the air I once had in my lungs.
I let it engulf me, content to let my light die out one last time, coming to terms with the inevitable, far too early, demise. I remember Eden, the tree, my brothers and sisters, the people I loved, the mistakes I made, every success and failure woven into a tapestry that unravels suddenly at the bottom, dropping off into emptiness, never to be finished.
Then there is nothing.
I expected death to be colder, to feel like less.
Instead it feels like comfort, like being lifted gently and carried in the arms of your parents after falling asleep as a young child. It's safety, secure knowing that you are right where you’re meant to be.
It’s… oddly noisy. Mechanical beeps and strange musical trilling make up the backdrop of an empty theatre— the darkness of my mind, the void I lay in. Somewhere in the distance someone speaks with a muffled voice, luring me closer. What are they saying? I… can’t understand.
Then light cracks, just for a moment, above me stands a silhouette, a halo of light starbursts around it, it’s too bright, it’s painful to look at, I close my eyes to it. I was never really superstitious, or religious, even with my endless devotion, but I guess now I know what happens at the end— you meet a god you don’t know, never loved, and can’t understand.
This must be the first step to eternal damnation, torture as it is to be forced into worship of a thing that never cared for you in the first place. It’s what I deserve, what I’ve earned for my foolishness— I never wanted to do it, nobody believes me, not even the gods would believe me.
Then, again, my eyes open, fighting against the brightness of a white light, nowhere near the brilliance of the first blinding light I’d seen, now a distant memory— why does it feel so far away? My vision blurs and warps, warbles as if I’m seeing everything through water.
A strange mechanical voice registers, saying something that- it feels like it should make sense to me. I strain to listen to it, to grasp at the words. “Eye movement detected.”
I sit up, a sudden rush of adrenaline thrumming through my body.
Did I do it? Am I free now?
I look around at my surroundings, unfamiliar and sterile, but… it’s prison, I think. Where they kept me before was darker and dirtier, cobbled together from scraps, nobody wanted to waste any extra resources on their convicts, especially on ones like me.
Now I’m surrounded by glass, like a caged animal. I’ve earned an upgrade, but a cage is a cage, no matter if the bars are gilded and the interior is clean.
I stand up, swaying on uneasy feet, something isn’t right but I can’t quite pinpoint what is wrong. I take a step forward, my legs already feel as if they’re going to give out. It doesn’t matter, I deserve to be free, I’ve done everything. They promised me, I did everything they wanted, they can’t keep me here.
Another weak step, carried forward by nothing but the agony of betrayal, it aches slightly more than the angry burning of my muscles, it’s just enough to push me past the desire to quit.
I try to shout, but my throat burns and aches, something feels like it snaps with a sharp stinging pain, I choke instead. The familiar taste of blood spreads across my tongue— not my blood, but the same rotten and unnaturally sick copper-twinged horror I’d swallowed down by gallons.
I spit it out, panicked and sputtering, wrenching and heaving, but when I look at the floor where I’d just spat it— there’s no blood. My head spins as I stare down at the pristine, white, floor, my vision doubling and re-focusing, my head pounding with an intense ache, as if my brain might fight its way through my skull.
“Hello?!” The voice that comes from my mouth is not my own, it rasps and gurgles unnaturally, a twisted version of how I used to sound. A spike of terror washes over me, I step forward, now nearly face to face with the glass.
I peer into my reflection, mottled and distorted, parts of me still within it, other parts given in to the blood—changed. I run a hand over the left side of my face, or- I have no left arm. The hand I try to control, that still feels like it’s part of me, is no longer there.
“Hello? Sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up-“ a man on the other side of the glass paces in quickly, looking rumpled with messy blonde hair and sideways glasses. He reminds me, vaguely, of the figure I’d seen in the light the first time I opened my eyes.
Not a god, just another captor.
“Please-“ my voice rasps painfully again, I wince, swallowing down the pain. “I did everything they wanted.”
The man stares at me with interest, grabbing a nearby stool and sitting on it, rolling it closer to the glass with his feet— it looks a little ridiculous, all things considered. He doesn’t seem like much of a prison warden, he’s much softer than anyone I’d encountered in the past.
“What did they want? Who?”
I laugh wryly, trying to avoid the overwhelming urge to cry. “You can’t be serious. This is a fucking joke. I’m supposed to be free. They said! They told me if I got the black box up- if I could make it out-“
But I guess… that promise was on Ava’s shoulders alone. She didn’t make it back out, they probably blame that death on me as well.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know- let me just start from the beginning, okay? Does that- can we do that? Does that sound good? Then we can talk calmly without having to use any nasty language, everything will be good.”
‘Nasty language’? Is he serious? “Okay. Go ahead. Explain to me why I’m back in prison.”
He blinks at me, confused, then looks around the room and gasps. “Oh my gosh! No! Not prison! Not prison at all!” He gestures to me, I look down at myself, noticing wires and tubes connected to me. “Medical bay! We are in my space ship and you’re in the medical bay- we have barriers up just until we can figure out what’s going on but I promise we aren’t trying to keep you prisoner."
“So… I am free?”
“Uh- well, we’re on a space ship, I’m not sure- There’s just not many places to go here even after quarantine is lifted. I mean you could take space walks or if there’s a planet you’re from we can bring you back there?”
My mind races back to home, the dying stars, the slow sure march toward the end that awaited all humanity. “I don’t think my home exists anymore.” It could never exist the same way it once had, no matter how hard I fight for it, that reality is no longer mine. “Our stars were dying.”
He nods, grimly. “That’s why I’m here. My star was dying too. Astrophage, they were basically eating them. Rocky and I have been breeding their natural predator for years now. We can’t save all of them but… I want to do what I can.”
“So… you’ve been flying around just… saving stars?”
“Well we normally send out probes, we only came out here to get you. The only life out here is on Erid, but one day their scientists picked up a distress call from a planet that shouldn’t have been here. It defies all logic, this entire solar system has been mapped extensively, but suddenly it was there. We went to meet the distress call, and what we found was you. No sign of the woman who originally made the call.”
I know my ship had no way to send out any sort of signal like that, they didn’t care enough if I lived, they would’ve preferred my quiet departure with no theatrics at all, just to walk into the slaughterhouse quietly, compliant with no will to fight anymore.
It must’ve been Ava’s.
But it doesn’t matter now.
I stumble back and sit on the bed behind me, choking on a wave of emotion, tearing up. “I get to live.” Nobody has wanted me to live for so long- even my own brothers in Eden, with their betrayal, did not care if I lived or died so long as I served the cause. ‘Our bodies become the soil’ became such second nature to say and think- became so deeply rooted within me, tangled me in its briars, trapped me, but now I’m free.
The starlight is real, and someone is fighting for it to survive.
Simon takes his shirt off for the first time and grace goes "wahoo :]" and "wowza :O" and "yippeeee :D" and such. All said out loud, emoji included somehow.
if you’re still taking requests i would give my left arm to see simon get to just sink into a hug cause he finally feels comfortable/is offered affection 👀
