The UTMV Fandom Has Got To Be A Psychologist's Dream. For Those Who Don't Know, There Is A Large Debate

Glass and wings Starlight brings Dreams that gleam sharper Yet my nights grow darker ___

Here's a peek of how I painted this. The HD image and full hours long process videos will be DMed on my Patreon on Oct 5

Not too many thoughts on this, just...

Kuras dealing with phantom pains of the wings he no longer has. The scars on his back have long healed over and faded with time, but occasionally, he still feels a tingling or a sharp throb where his wings should be. It shouldn't make sense, but the human form is odd like that. He encounters so many of these bizarre phenomena in his own facsimile of humanity. He's had centuries to grow accustomed to these pains — and in some ways, he has — but they continue to catch him off guard, makes him feel almost…mortal.

Leander's scar, the one that stretches over his arm to a good part of his chest and shoulder, and ends at the side of his face, continues to give him trouble even though it is healed. Most days, he feels a certain tightness in the scar tissue of his left arm and shoulder and most days, the discomfort is manageable. He doesn't even notice it most of the time. And on the days he is actually bothered by the pain, he tends to conceal that suffering from others. He's used to wearing a mask, after all.

Vere's heightened sense of smell and hearing gives him a deadly edge over his prey and he revels in his mastery of those senses. But having a sensitive nose and ears can also lead to an overstimulation that borders on pain, especially in a large city such as Eridia, constantly bombarding one with a racket of sounds and jumbled voices, strong offensive odours stinging your nostrils, and everyone's souls are too bright and suddenly, the shadows are too loud and restless. Unfortunately, he can’t always choose where he goes when he is leashed and those are the days that the fox is far more brutal on his hunts.

Ais dealing with the occasional migraines that come from having an eldritch entity and entire hivemind locked into one’s head. It's a never-ending cacophony that slams against the walls of his skull as if it means to burst out. The pain comes in waves, pulses, almost like the push and pull of a tide, or the beat of a collective heart. When it happens, he usually isolates until the worst of the headache passes. He's used to getting through things alone now, as ironic as that sounds with his link to an ever present Groupmind.

Mhin on bad pain days where it’s not the imminent-transformation kind of pain — but it’s one of those days where their bones don’t feel like they fit beneath their skin. They are cursed with a monster inside of them, and some days, the condition feels agonizingly literal, like there is a physical beast writhing inside them, knocking against their organs and making their bones creak from the strain until they are forced to break and knit back together in the wrong way.

Just the Touchstarved LIs dealing with pain.

Long night ...

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

... Happy belated birthday to us both, Mhin <3

who let this bird on the train

Made this little thing and can't stop watching it because mhin is hot 🥺

paralysis (mhin)

mhin x reader(f)

aphrodisiac au / short fic (cw: mature, slightly gory)

series: sweet poison (scenario-based collection of character imagines)

originally posted on ao3

masterlist

Prologue

You’re an idiot for drinking that. An absolute idiot.

You’re spilled across the floor, head swimming, burning from the inside as though you’d swallowed a star. The velvet rug brushed soft and cloying against your prickling skin as you squirmed, your heart pounding in your ears and beating an insistent rhythm in your groin.

Cooing at you from the table, her cat’s eyes curled in satisfaction, Morgana asked, “Something the matter? You look positively feverish.” She twirled a curly black lock around her finger.

Bitch. 

Paintings of naked people - bathing in springs, dancing around a fire, having an orgy in front of a temple - swirled into one colorful blob as you turned on your side, fisting the rug. You attempted to pull yourself to where you remembered the door but stalled a couple inches in, weak as a newborn kitten and stifling a moan as your body rubbed on the carpet.

“Now, now, where’s the fire? Stay a while.” She rose from her chair and stood over you, her arms crossing under her full chest. “You’re clearly hot under the collar. The thought of you wandering the streets like this concerns me deeply.”

You glared up at her, using every ounce of willpower not to writhe on the floor like a worm on a hook. Your hand felt clumsily around your hip for the dagger. 

“I’ll take that,” she chirped, snatching the weapon from your belt and tossing it behind her. “Can’t have you nicking that lovely skin.” Her heel braced on the other side of you, straddling your back. Her hands tugged the shirt from your waist before dragging warm palms up your back, her nails scratching on the return journey.

You bit your lip to stifle a moan rocketing through your chest, as every nerve in your body vibrated with electric pleasure. Your hips pressed hard into the floor, growing ever desperate for friction even as you struggled to focus.

Morgana sunk her hand into your nape, drawing your hair back from your face. When she leaned down to brush her painted lips against your ear, goosebumps erupted down your neck. “We’ll start with the bandages, shall we?”

______ prologue end _________

“For fucks’ sake,” a voice sighed from the shadows. 

Bone popped as Morgana’s head whipped around toward the noise, then a thunk as something lodged itself in her back, accompanied by the slick, gristly sound of knife cleaving meat. A shriek erupted from her throat. 

She flung herself to the right, hand reaching over her collar. Face pale, sweat beading across her brow, Morgana turned to face the back wall. A dagger lodged in her left shoulder, the fabric around the blade soaking with blood.

A cloaked figure leaned against the window. Though most of their form was cast in darkness, the moonlight caught the edge of silver hair just beneath the hood, swaying with the night’s breeze.

You twisted on the floor, every brush of the luxurious carpet like rubbing and prickling like a cat’s tongue.

“How brazen,” Morgana attempted her usual simpering tone, though her bared teeth somewhat diminished the effect. “Entering through the window, unannounced, uninvited - like a thief.”

“You’ve got nothing I want, Mistress of the Night.” Red pupils glowed in the night. They fixed first on Morgana, then your curled form on the ground. “Seriously? You fell for that?”

Silver hair. Red pupils. A cutting tongue. 

Mhin. 

You closed your eyes. Fuck your life. 

“I spy a familiar face. You skulk around the Senobium gates, yes?” Morgana had crept closer to the wall, where a velvet tassel hung from the drapery. “Begging the mages to let you in like an injured dove.”

Mhin’s eyes narrowed. Then with a flick of their wrist, a silver flash shot through the air. 

Morgana lunged, but the braided rope fell limp into her grasp. She cursed, painted lips finally twisting into an honest snarl. Her gaze then flickered toward the door but returned to Mhin. “It would seem that I do have something you want. What are your intentions here, hunter?”

“Saving a fool from themself.” A dagger danced beneath the moonlight, twisted within Mhin’s nimble fingers. “Whether you get caught in the crossfire is up to you.”

You swallowed around a dry throat. Somehow you doubted Morgana would shrug her shoulders and drop the issue peaceably - especially with a dagger biting into one of said shoulders. Craning your neck, you looked and sure enough liquid flames began to bubble from her hand.

“As they say, in the company of fools…” she sneered, fire twisting and slithering around her skin as magic pooled in her palm. 

“Back off, witch.” Mhin glared coldly. The knife froze, the blade lifted and pointed in her direction. 

Stuck on the floor between them, you fought desperately against the oppressive lethargy in your body. The drug burned through your veins until you felt scorched from the inside out, shaky and delirious with fever. Each attempt to move felt as though you rested on the bottom of the sea, strapped by weights and slowly drowning. Your head felt pressed by cotton on all sides.

You wriggled like a worm toward the table, seeking cover. At least the effects - flushed skin, dazed eyes - could disguise your mortification. You had worked so hard to earn Mhin’s trust. To cross the cavernous distance they placed between themself and others. 

For them to see you in this state… 

“Surely you know there will be consequences to your interference tonight,” said Morgana, her attention focused on the dagger. “Let’s not pretend. This little fool must mean something to you.”

For a moment, the calm malevolence oozing from Mhin’s expression disappeared, replaced by a look of flustered surprise. “Mean something? That wimp?” They scoffed, feet shuffling in agitation. “As if. Who would - for that - “

Mhin’s mouth paused, in the middle of what would undoubtedly be an insult. Their eyes fell on you, sweeping over your shivering body, lingering on the curve of your back as you tried to push yourself onto your elbows. They stopped on your face - and the heat prickling across your skin seemed to thicken even more at the humiliating thought of what you must look like there, writhing like a worm.

To your shock, Mhin blushed. Their body twisted abruptly, face angling away as a hand shot up as though to shield them from the sight of you. “You - the fuck are you looking at like that - “

Light flared in the room, heat exploding into the air. Capitalizing on their distraction, Morgana threw a whip of molten flame across the room, arcing across the distance between them. Mhin dropped below the strike into a crouch before darting forward in a flash of black and silver. 

Morgana jumped back and sliced the whip down once more - this time, not at Mhin but at you. 

Over your shoulder, you watched the whip serpentine through the air, the spiked end twisting toward you like the mouth of a fanged snake. You tried to push yourself over even as your elbows gave out and your arms trembled. Tucking your head, you braced for the pain when a shadow fell over you.

That searing cut of pain never came. Instead, you heard a short grunt and a muffled curse.

Mhin stood between the two of you, shielding your body. Their arm was braced outward, the flaming whip caught and coiled around their leather vambrace. You’d noticed that very first day that, despite their slender frame, Mhin had the strength of a goliath. They held firm against Morgana’s near frantic yanks on the whip, not budging a single inch.

“Guards!” She shouted, abandoning dignity, a flicker of fear in her eyes as Mhin twisted their arm and started pulling her toward them, wrapping the whip around their fist. Unflinching as the fire licked flesh, burning across their skin. “Guards!”

Mhin yanked the whip hard, pulling her forward and off her feet. The dagger swung upward and cut the cord in a shower of ashen sparks, freeing their right fist, which then shot forward with the force of a battering ram into Morgana’s cheek. 

Her body propelled through the air and slammed into the door. Beads and silk curtains ripped from their rods and draped down on top of her. She writhed under the fabric, her movements panicked and clumsy, not unlike a cat trapped beneath a sheet.

“Hey. Pay attention.”

Mhin crouched at your side. One arm wrapped around your waist as the other dragged your arm over their shoulders, heaving you off the ground. You gasped as the world spun in a swirl of melted colors around you, buckling against them as your knees struggled to support your weight. 

“Fuck.” They paused, propping you against their chest, breath puffing into your ear. Shivers raced down your spine. “Can’t even stand? Could you be more of a hindrance right now?”

Shamefaced, you bit your lip and muttered, “Sorry. Thanks for coming.”

Mhin’s body stiffened. They cleared their throat. “...nevermind. Just - grab on tight.”

You stumbled together toward the back of the room. The balcony door remained open to the night, a breeze carrying the noise of the street in from below. When they reached the railing, Mhin glanced over their shoulder and gritted their teeth. “Change of plans.”

“What?” You questioned dazedly, trying to follow their gaze, when Mhin dropped lower and drew you onto their back. Hands curled around your thighs with iron strength and hoisted you up. 

“Incoming. Don’t let go.” 

Don’t let - you choked back a yelp as Mhin stepped lithely onto the railing and jumped. Three yards of dead air sped below you before their boots caught the rooftop with an impact that shook your heart against your rib cage. Hands scrabbling at the front of their shirt, you tucked your face into the thick, navy cloak. 

Mhin darted across the skyline, leaping across a street and onto the bedraggled rooftop of an apartment building nearby. They paused, leaned perilously over the edge, before hiking upward toward the eave of a window. 

“Ah!” You gasped as your body’s tugged roughly off their back and braced on the window sill. “Mhin - “

A finger pressed against your lips. Mhin shot you a warning look before digging into a leather pouch strapped to their belt. They withdrew a small bottle, luminescent blue liquid sloshing inside. “Drink this,” they whispered. 

When you reached for the bottle, Mhin jerked it back and huffed. “Still haven’t learned your lesson?” At your confused look, they grumbled, “not even going to ask what’s inside? How do you know this isn’t poison? Maybe I’m finally getting rid of you, now that an opportunity and a convenient patsy have arrived.” 

You stared back at them, exhausted, feeling as though your brain could be seeping through your ears. “Because it’s you.”

Gray eyes widened in shock before their head jerked to the side, hiding their expression beneath a hasty veil of white hair. But you could see a glimpse of their ear. The pale skin around the top and shell had flushed pink. “That’s… naive. Foolishly so.”

You summoned a wobbly smile and added wryly, “anyway, if you were going to kill me, you would’ve let Morgana finish the job and saved yourself the trouble of coming at all. Why waste the energy?”

“Finally, a sign of intelligence,” they grumbled, before pressing the bottle against your palm and leaving to peer over the side of the roof again.

Hands trembling, you tried to bring the bottle to your mouth without spilling. The tremors seemed to grow worse even as you sagged into the window frame, all the energy and fight leaching from your body. Gods but you felt so hot. 

Footsteps thundered on the cobblestone street. Men shouted orders at each other, their words difficult to parse but easily understood. You were being pursued by Morgana’s private security. 

Hastening, you managed to bring the bottle to chest height, heavily leaning your arm there as the muscles gave out. You had to hurry and drink. You couldn’t slow them down anymore, not after the pathetic scene you’d made that night. Tears of frustration pooled at the corners of your eyes, further blurring your surroundings. 

“They’re sending a group toward the nearby watchtower. We need to get to safer ground.” Mhin returned. Their eyes caught sight of the trembling bottle. Their jaw dropped. “Why haven’t you - “

You gritted your teeth and tried again, managing to get the lip of the potion to tap against your chin. The effort had you closing your eyes, tears spilling down your cheeks. Everything felt like too much. Heat burned out of you, drenching you in sweat. Invisible stones bore down on your limbs. And even as your body burned with lust, your heart ached in fear and regret that Mhin would lose respect for you because of this, that the tentative partnership you’d worked so hard for had been ripped away from one mistake - one stupid blunder - 

A warm hand wrapped around the desperate grip you had on the bottle. Another tugged you into a firm chest - the cold, pleated cotton shirt soothing against your inflamed skin. Their fingers curled under as Mhin brought the potion to your mouth.

Wisps of moonlight hair brushed across your nose and brow. Dove gray eyes looked back - the ever-present caution and threat they had born for so long softening from within the shadows of the cloak. 

You stared up into their face, lost within the fog, all of a sudden feeling strangely content. Three sluggish swallows later, and the bottle emptied. 

Tired to your bones, you sagged against them, cheek pressed to their chest, blinking sleepily. Mhin’s grip on your jaw eased. Their thumb lingered, drifting almost as though to stroke your face. 

“Look at you,” they sighed, holding still for a quiet moment. You focused on breathing, their familiar scent of steel and linen filling your lungs. Their next words whispered against the top of your head. “Next time… call me before you jump into some harebrained scheme alone.”

___________________________________________________

a/n: I hope that I have correctly codified mhin as a tsundere....

if i disappear, whos to say that i was here? (my part of an trade with @pigswithwings ^_^)

The scrungle >:]

sometimes you need dialogue tags and don't want to use the same four

such cool animation. wow. love this <3

Happy Birthday, Ink!!!

Small animation for my boy, Ink. Inspired by one of the @comyet illustrations. I hope you like it ❤️

Ink!Sans belongs to @myebi / @comyet