How To Unintentionally Be Helpful By Being A Biologist.

I love this and want more.

Son Adopts Father, More at 11

What up, I made a new AU, it’s called Inverted AU where everyone’s personalities are flip flopped while still having relatively the same story roles and originally was just for shenanigans but eventually got emotions, as all my AUs do. I’ll make a full post explaining it later, but here’s a little bit of how MK and Sun Wukong first met and the aftermath of that in this AU.

Enjoy!

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… I don’t know why this one came to mind so long ago, I just felt like drawing an Underfell Papyrus With a baby brother sans.

it is not my best work, the shading is horrible, but oh well. it got the idea out of my system.

So, I like many a person ended up randomly scrolling through videos and the like in boredom one day, and ended up on a channel called DissociaDID.

YouTube

DissociaDID

DissociaDID is a project dedicated to challenging the stigma surrounding Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) and trauma-based mental illnes

And that got my mind a spinning after watching some of the media.

Specificaly, what if Wukong had DID?

I will note, I don't think this is an idea I would openly write a full story about for others to read because I don't think I could do this mental disorder the justice it deserves in my opinion.

However, I thought I might put out the idea for how it happened and my thought for alters and their jobs.

First off, what would lead Wukong to develop DID?

First thing I need to say is we don't know the timescale of Wukong's early life, all that is stated in his tale is that he came out fully formed. But that does not mean he came out fully formed mentally, so within the first 7 years of his life he could have developed amnesia barriers as a coping mechanism for all the trauma he dealt with, and then it developed into DID because of the separation of memories.

As of right now, my main thoughts for what lead to Wukong developing it are as follows.

Wukong back when he was just Shí Hóu (what is currently believed to have been his name or title before he went to gain his first immortality) the original dominate male of Wukong's tribe bullied, beat up, and generally tried to kill Wukong. Perhaps the leading male even put forth the "go beyond the waterfall to become the king thing" and enticed Wukong into doing it in an attempt to have Wukong die by drowning, with it partially working and almost killing the young monkey king, but instead Wukong found the temple and became king, displacing the old monkey as the alpha, but they would make continuous attempts to kill Wukong even after.

As time went on perhaps the former alpha male died in a very gruesome way in front of Wukong, with maybe one or two of the kinder monkeys in the group dying of disease, putting the fear of death through means that Wukong wouldn't be able to control into his mind, leading Wukong to travel potentially days alone on a raft with little to no food in an attempt to find immortality like he had heard of being possible from some demon monkeys.

Then once on shore Wukong met humans and they feared and degraded him for not being human, for their belief he was a demon or the like, perhaps even attacking him till he learned to hide and found a link to what would lead him to an immortal.

Then the immortal had the same beliefs as the other humans and shut him out from learning, but Wukongs persistence led the man to give him a chance to learn, leading to Wukong being in an environment where all those learning with him initially hated or despised him, perhaps to the point of doing things to try and get Wukong to leave but over time they just became indifferent to Wukong, still being racist but identifying that Wukong was dedicated to his craft.

I can't say for sure but that altogether feels like a pretty good recipe for developing DID.

Next up, Wukong's alters.

First up, the original Wukong Shí Hóu, he/they are a trama holder, and would have been the earliest host before a new one developed in the wake of becoming King and needing to not be fearful of the former dominate male or risk losing the better life he was gaining. Leading to them being a "little" in the sense that they no longer aged beyond the point of no longer being the Host of the body. Shí Hóu would act most like a young orphaned monkey.

Next would be a Persicutitory Protector that would have formed to protect Shí Hóu from attacks by the male while making it clear to the little one that it is their fault they are continuing to be abused because he never fought back against the male. Their title would be Jingwēi and they would probably act most like a hostile male monkey, probably partially forming from a fragment of the aggressive male.

A soother alt would have probably formed around this time as well to help calm Shí Hóu down after traumatising confrentations with the dominate male. Their title would be Guānxīn and they would probably be most like a mother monkey Shí Hóu watched from afar, and probably later on would have gained traits from watching human and demon parents.

Formation timeline-wise, next to form would probably be a fragment with the title Shuî who formed from Wukong's water based trama and might be part fish. They would not have to major a personality and and be more a mindset revolving around being unable to drown due to being part fish.

Timeline wise the next personality to form would be Wukong, though he wouldn't have that name at the time and would have gone by Monkey King. He would be the main Host of the system from the time of becoming King to present.

Some time during Wukong's travels 4 more alts would form. Zhìzhê who would be the Gate Keeper of the system controlling who has access to what memories, who is in front, and keeping track of all alts within the internal space. Guówáng who would be a co-fronting primary protector to Wukong helping with protecting the body from harm and with fighting off trouble. Yêmánde being a faceless persecutor, repeating back the hate and fear spewed by the masses of humans (and later demons and celestial beings) towards Wukong, being a constant reminder of Wukong not being similar to anything at all. And lastly Liu er Miho, AKA Macaque, who at the time was a trauma holder persecutor like Yêmánde representing the fear of the unknown and those who speak and hide in the shadows.

Some time during Wukong's training under Pitu Zushi (though the show seems to be calling them Master Subodhi, but that could be a mixup on my part for the journy's immortal teachers name) or perhaps some time after Wukong's trip into the Diyu when taking the front for a moment Macaque used some of Wukong's power to create a clone for him to break himself off into that later became their own person sans memories of being part of Wukong.

3 more major alts and potentially one minor one would form from Wukongs learning immortality onward. First Lâoshī, Wukongs desire to be a protector and a caregiver/teacher to others, Huô forming from Wukong's traumatic experiences with fire and being a trauma holder who can disable the body unintentionally by making them temporarily blind (may also have some relation to the molten iron and copper fed to Wukong), Geisha who would be a sexual defender and trauma holder for the system (because you can't convince me that someone over the years wouldn't have tried to forcefully mate Wukong for power), and lastly Tang an interject persecutor protector that formed based off Tripitaka who would hurt or berate Wukong for his "violent" ways while reminding and suggesting less lethal methods.

My thoughts on how MK and his group figure this out is less certain.

As of right now, my main idea for how it happened is something involving fire triggers Huô sending Wukong into a blind panic running away with MK trying to follow with maybe one other behind him and they hear a difference in how Wukong is speaking or talking to himself and realise something is up. Later doing research and it clicking over enough time what is happening and leading MK and the others trying to get Wukong (as well as Mac (because learning you were a piece of the very person you hate can't be good for the psyche)) some professional help to at least partially recover from all the trama.

What do you all think? Have Ny ideas of your own to add? I would love to hear them.

https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fmy.w.tt%2FRDMfulYw45&t=MzRkNTMwOGRkZDBjY2UxMzc4N2NiZDAwODUxZDM5ZTI2MmM3ZWE1Nyw1NzY1MDMyODYxYmFjMmI3Yzc4ODY1ZWE4M2U5YTZhZDA1Njc1ZTI2

So, I am working on a variant of Dreamtale. Curious to see what people think.

Bees!

Yes!

So cool!

Save the bees!

Waylon Jones finds Danny hiding in the sewers

Waylon was used to people seeing him as a monster. He had been called a freak or a monster since childhood, with people sneering at him and looking down on him for what he looked like.

Waylon could count on one hand the number of people who treated him like a normal person. Grundy was one. Roy was another. Harley treated him fine.

Danny was the first time someone had seen him and not even reacted. Danny just shared his food with him, smiling at him and chatting about random things. He didn’t mind Waylon’s scales or the sharp teeth. He just accepted it.

Danny saw him for him.

So when Danny, with bright green eyes and his hood finally down and showcasing the pale pointed ears and green blush, admitted why he was down in the sewers? When the small boy traced a hand over surgical scars Waylon had never seen before as he whispered about the group calling him a freak?

Well, Waylon had been seen as a monster for a long time.

Why not prove them right?

Well, this is interesting.

The Cats Favorite Toy p.2 Final

I can tell so much about you by what you've left unsaid...

Ink leaned back in his old rocking chair, listening to the old, beaten wood creak with the stretch of new pressure. He always used it whenever he couldn't sleep, when insomnia hit him hard, stapling his eyes open, making his body toss and turn, but tonight was different. No, tonight wasn't a night where he drew something and still had the energy for new pieces, but he had to go meet up with the Star Sanses in the morning, when he had just watched a fight in another au and was still riled up, tonight was worse.

Tonight was worry

There was a tightness in the painters chest that refused to go away. It made his hands shake, trembling in place, twitching every now and again from being so cramped. It made his stomach feel tight and knotted, the bitter taste of acid rising in his throat now and again, though he forced it back down. Sure, he was used to puking up Ink, but not real food. What food would even come up? He hasn't had the motivation to eat, it took a lot out of him to even roll out of bed this morning, but he knew that Error needed to be taken care of. Its not like skeletons needed to eat, even though it did strengthen their stanima, so he was just fine without it, and if that meant losing all his energy, so be it.

Ink looked across the room to the couch, Errors unconscious form bundled up in blankets and wires, pumping medicine into his soul that Sci had recommended. The glitchs break down made his core weak and cracked, so Ink had to keep a close eye on his chest. Not to mention the physical damage, a sprained ankle and chips among his skeleton from the rock fall. Being in the snow, in soaking wet clothes for hours on end, also gave Error a nasty case of frostbite. The tips of his bones, his toes and fingers, bits of rib and neck, they were all stained a bright pink color, swollen and sore. Ink had always found the others bruises interesting, how they needed to be a bright color to contrast over the dark bones. Is that why he left so many after battles? Maybe. Did that mean the guilt on his chest ever lightened? Absolutely not.

... Maybe he shouldn't have been so rough in fights. Error had already retreated down at Snowdin, but Ink was determined on having a bit more fun. Now he realized that this wasn't fun for Error, it wasn't joy he felt, it was fear. Fear of being hunted like some sort of wild animal, fear of being presented with all his failures for everyone to see, to laugh at and poke fun at for their own entertainment.

The protector takes a sip of his white paint, bouncing his knee anxiously, pumping his foot to and from the cold tiled floor. It was dulling his emotions, which he usually didn't like, but right now, he needed it. The anxiety and guilt was driving Ink insane, he felt both physically and mentally sick with the entire situation. The ticks from a clock on the wall was the only thing to keep himself grounded, each one making him flinch from the lack of background noise. Usually, he didn't even notice it, making a radio or the voices of the creators to drown it out, but now, it was like a gun being shot right next to his head, just barely missing, but still serving as a warning. Why did he even have a clock? With all the timelines and different timezones, this was a useless pice of junk. Still, it looked nice, and it made him feel like this little multiverse world had its own sense of individuality, so he kept it up. Did it even run on batteries? Or did it just hang over Ink, watching him with every click of a hand, prying into his thoughts with every tick of the minute, waiting for the artist to finally crack, to unfold just as Error did all those weeks ago.

Yeah... Weeks....

Glitchy had gone into a coma from all the cold to his body, sending him into shock. Or, at least that's what Sci said. Ink didn't really know what that meant, but it definitely wasn't good, the lack of knowledge only adding bricks to his already endless wall of anxiety.

A crash in the room almost made Ink scream in fear, though it only came out as a soft wheeze, instead gripping the arms of his rocker to try and stable himself once again. Turning his head from his hands folded on his lap, he was surprised to see Errors body... Rolled off the couch. There was a grumble from the pile as it shifted around, obviously annoyed by its prison of blankets, trying to break free, but it was kinda hard when your limbs were all numb and cramped. His counterpart rushed over to help, nearly flying out of his chair in the moment of adrenaline, pulling at the blanket until it came loose, looking down at the other

"Hey Ru... You're awake..."

Inks voice was small, something uncharacteristic for the usually annoying guardian, but the look in Errors eyes told him that things weren't all well again. The red tainted sockets looked like they were sunk into his skull, making gray bags ring around his eyes. Even though it was hard to see with the black bones, Ink could regonize it from the almost gray pupils, the usually warm color pattern drained into a ghost of once they once were, A ghost of Error. A ghost of his determined attitude, almost smug as he bickered with anyone and everyone, his pride refusing to submit into another's ideas. A ghost from his usually wide rested smile, or that jagged frown when he got upset over something small, cursing and stomping his foot like a cat who was pet at the wrong time. A ghost of the usual bright navy strings dripping down his cheeks. They weren't even glowing now, starting to mix into his skull, almost like they were invisible to his character. Ink forced himself to gulp down another bit of white paint, shuttering at the lack of taste, unlike his other vials that bursted with flavor. How long has this been piling up on Error for? The skeleton looked half dead, staring up at Ink with glossy eyelights, almost like his entire personality was broken.

The artist pulled Error back up to the couch, laying the blanket on his lap instead of bundling him up again, going to the kitchen to start up on some hot chocolate. Error always liked the food, anything chocolate really, it was like a drug to him at this point. Maybe it would cheer him up, with a bit of whipped cream and carmel draped over the top? Yeah. That sounded nice. Ink decided to make himself a mug as well, his stomach tightening from his lack of food all week.

He walked back to the couch after about 10 minutes, sighing in relief at the sight. Error had his knitting needles in his hands, strings wrapped in his fingers, making a pattern as he pulled and looped the thread. His body still looked tired, but at least he could move his fingers. At least he had the motivation to do something he loved again.

The cup of coco was set on the living room table, which was piled up with papers and art supplies, but the painter moved all that to the side, careful not to knock anything over. He was surprised that Error didn't rip up his project or destroy it as he usually did, but he could tell now wasn't the time to bright up work stuff.

Error didn't touch the coco. Not that it was stubborn and didn't want Inks help, mostly because he was too caught up in relaxing himself in his strings of fabric, letting the clock tick away. No words were exchanged, only the small background noise as Ink clicked the TV on to listen to, grabbing his notebook as well, starting to doodle things in it. It was a comfortable silence. No one moved to get away, no one bickered or screamed, the two skeletons just needed eachother right now to let the other know everything was okay, everything was normal again. In all due time, it would be, including fights and battles, the war still ranging on. But for now, it was too late to care about those things. The ticking was all that they needed to feel at peace again, relaxing in eachothers presence, letting the night soothe their souls as they enjoyed eachothers company once again

Yes.

sketches of scenes from "Shattered Mirrors" by Catnoodles (ao3). idk if they hav any socials so😭but anyways this fic absolutely ruins me and has so many tropes that i love UGH it lives in my head rent tf free🤧🫠(although the monkey mk aspect is my own personal touch hehe)

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My Etsy Shop!

I really like drawing quiet, human scenes, of characters being alone, doing their own thing. Not performing for anyone, or being on guard in any way, just existing. I think it can add a lot of depth to characters. And its just fun to draw subtle stuff like that.

Hope you enjoy! And I also wanted to say, thank you so much EVERYONE for all your comments, and reblogs!! Comments go a long way in keeping me motivated to work on things, and reblogs are the same! I'm glad people seem to be enjoying this work, but just wait, because this story is *just* getting started. :D

Enjoy!!

... You know, there is an Archive of our own Error x Blue fic which mentions Error having two... Well you can see them.

💙