#nonconsensual body modifcation

[littledemonlorne]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Original Work Rating: Explicit Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character Characters: Original Male Character(s), Original Zombie Character(s) Additional Tags: gay orgy, Older Men/Younger Men, nippleplay, excessive sweat, sex marathon, Multiple Orgasms, partner switching, Body Worship, Pit Play, Lots of Sex, alleged future threat Summary:

They couldn't believe they were the sole survivors of what had happened. It was the most horrifying thing they could have ever come against. But, they were grateful it was over.

Or is it?

[sleepyfan-blog]

Warp Milk

Author’s note: The Guilliman lactation idea got to me. Behold, for I have no shame. This is inspired by @men-want-me-fish-fear-me Guilliman lactation artworks

Warnings: male lactation, canon-typical violence, panic attack, non-consensual body modification (via magic), 

Tagged: ask me if you want to be tagged in this fic series. I’m aware it’s a little… Unusual in content

Summary: Roboute Guilliman, Imperial Regent and Primarch of the Ultramarines finds that his chest is sore while completing paperwork. The reason behind the pain is equal parts alarming and confusing.

A dull, throbbing ache that pulsed in time with his hearts-beats slowly bloomed across Roboute's chest, causing the Primarch to set down the stylus he had been using to sign or deny the seemingly endless number of forms, reports, requests and other assorted pieces of paperwork that he had been diligently working his way through for... Roboute checked his chronometer and suppressed the desire to groan and slump backwards into his chair.

Cato was on guard-duty today, and the primarch was keenly aware of the fact that the captain of his Victrix guard was tightly wound at the moment, as Roboute was currently out of the Armor of fate. He had trained his body - and slowly healed from the vile, wicked poison that Fulgrim - may that thrice-cursed gutter-whore suffer a thousand humiliating deaths - had slashed into his body by a devastating slash to his throat. This was far from the first time he had spent this much time out of the armor of fate, but his sons were easily agitated when he wasn't in his life-sustaining prison of a suit of armor. The pain in his chest was intense enough to have broken his focus on the endless stacks of paperwork that he was desperately trying to get through, as if whatever it was had landed on his desk, it meant that it was dire enough to receive his direct attention after several different layers of checking for the veracity, timeliness of the request or whatever it was, and depth of need.

He closed his eyes for a couple of moments, listening to his aching body, trying to see if he could find the source of the pain. The last battle he had taken to the field for had been well over six months ago, and to Roboute's knowledge, he had not taken a blow in while sparring with his sons that would explain why it felt as though a heavy weight was pressing down on his chest, as well as a throbbing ache that reminded him of the time that he had broken his ankle as a young child, and his Mother had explained to him about the nature of his injury, and how to mitigate the damage and the pain until he got proper medical care he needed.

The pain wasn't going away, but Ronoute couldn't come up with a moment within recent memory where he took a blow to the chest that hadn't been absorbed wholly by either his Iron Halo forcefield, or by the Armor Of Fate. He glanced surreptitiously at Cato, making sure that his gene-son was deeply in thought and unlikely to be paying close attention to him. 

Cato had a faraway look in his eyes and a slight furrow in his brows, that usually meant that the Astartes was tormenting himself with theoretical if/when scenarios of his time spent in the warp, attempting to get the Primaris Ultramarines to the Indomitus Fleet. This meant he was distracted.

Which was why the Primarch shifted a little in his chair before surreptitiously raising a hand up to his chest, gently massaging one of his aching pectoral muscles. Roboute's breath caught in his throat as he stilled completely, his hand coming away damp as liquid began to weep from his chest.

The scent of the fluid was not the coppery tang of blood, nor the bitterness of bile. It has a slight sweet, pleasant odor that reminded him a bit of Grox-milk, though it was milder and sweeter in scent. Roboute startled as he saw a flash of movement out of the corner of his eyes.

Cato had rushed to his side from where he had been standing, the Ultramarine’s gaze focused entirely upon the Primarch, focusing on the wet patch on the upper portion of the casual toga he was wearing, and his raised hand. “Sir, is something wrong?”

“I…” Roboute hesitated for a moment. The… Leaking had stopped, shortly after he stopped rubbing his chest. “I am unsure. My chest is… Unexpectedly sore, and some sort of fluid came from somewhere when I tried to relieve the pain.”

Cato stilled for a moment, eyes widening briefly before he stated “I will inform the apothecaries. Do you wish to go to the medbay, sir, or would you rather they tend to you here, in your office?” 

The primarch briefly warred with himself before answering “I would prefer to be treated here, for privacy.”

"Yes sir.” Cato responded, one hand on his vox already. “Sicarius to Head Apothecary Asterios. Father requires assistance immediately.” He succinctly reported the symptoms that Robute had complained of, as well as the strange fluid discharge that had been secreted in response to trying to manually relieve the pain.

“I will be there within five minutes. I have alerted the tech marines to prepare Father’s Armor in case it is required for treatment.” Asterios answered swiftly, clearly already moving.

~

As promised, Asterios arrived within five minutes with a medkit in one hand, a medical scanner in the other. He walked over to where the lord primarch was sitting and where Captain Sicarius was protectively watching nearby. He could smell the faint, sweet scent of the discharge in the air.

It was a distantly familiar scent, but the Apothecary couldn't figure out why. He walked brisket over to his Primarch, nodding briefly to Sicarius as the other stepped back to give him room. “Please move the upper half of your toga, sir. I need to see where you are hurting, sir.”

Father had been resurrected by the God-emperor after the foul traitor Mlrtarion had struck him down with both Godblight and his reaping scythe. That injury had seemingly healed months ago, but he - and other brother apothecaries - were concerned about potential long-term complications of such an injury. Particularly as wounds inflicted by Nurgle’s plague-ridden dogs of war tended to linger and fester far longer than they had any right to.

The Primarch sighed before undoing the tie of his toga, lowering and re-tying the cloth around his waist. “As far as I know, I have not taken any recent blows to the chest. Not since Mortarion struck me with his scythe, and that wound has long since healed over.” He looked down at his chest, a frown creasing his brows and turning the corners of his lips.

“Your chest is swollen, sire.” Asterios noted, moving closer to his Primarch, having the scanner look him over “Fluid has accumulated in your pectoral muscles. Will you allow me to try and express some, to take a sample for testing? And, of course, to try and relieve the pressure and pain.”

Guilliman grimaced a little at that before nodding “Please do.”

Asterios nodded, stepping into the Primarch's personal space as he focused on the task at hand. He pulled on a pair of clean, disposable gloves and began to do a manual check of his gene-sire’s chest, his touches firm but gentle.

It did not take long for the built up fluid within Guilliman's pectoral muscles to discharge, weeping out of his nipples as a creamy-Off white substance that was similar in viscosity to water or whole milk. The Apothecary continued to stimulate one of his primarch's pectoral muscles with one hand, the other holding a collection tube.

The tube could hold up to five ounces of fluid and was quickly filled. Asterios paused in his ministrations long enough to cap the collection tube and label it, handing the warm fluid off to Sicarius “Run this down to the medical lab immediately.” He had a suspicion as to what this was, although part of his mind wanted to reject the idea out of hand.

The normally prideful and stubborn Captain merely nodded and set off at a swift pace that hopefully wouldn't be remarked upon as too out of the ordinary. The last thing Asterios wanted was to cause alarm to ricochet through Maccrage’s Honor like bouncing ordinance due to this change in the Primarch's condition. He knew that Sicarius would be discreet about this for their gene-sire's sake. 

The fluid looked like human breast milk. It smelled like it too, and had heavily perfumed the air. Asterios’ mouth had begun to water a little at the sweet and creamy scent as he struggled with the instinctual urge to take a sip of the substance. Nowhere in the Primarch's medical file did it say that he was capable of creating breast milk, though that may have been deliberately hidden by his predecessors in the 30th millennium for any number of reasons.

It was also possible that the milky discharge was due to either the supernatural poison inflicted on him by the Daemon Primarch Fulgrim, or the wounds inflicted upon him by Deamon Primarch Mortarion, or the damage done by the two of them combined. 

Asterios acquired a mid-sized, empty and sterile, wide-mouthed glass bottle to catch the rest of the discharge.  He continued to stimulate the left pectoral, which was the one he had been stimulating earlier. A small frown appeared on his face as the 650 ml bottle filled completely. He could feel that there was more fluid left.

The Apothecary capped the first bottle and continued to express the fluid, freezing when a low groan left his Primarch's lips part way through.

“Sir?” He asked, worried he may have injured the other.

“My left breast feels much better now. The pressure and tightness has eased. Please continue. Unless you'd rather I express it myself?” His primarch answered.

Asterios shook his head “It is my duty to tend to your medical needs, my liege. This is no burden for me.” 

~

By the time he finished expressing the fluid from Guilliman’s chest, Sicarius had returned and he had thirteen 650 ml bottles filled to the brim of the substance. Some of the tension that his Primarch had been carrying had left him as the last of the substance left his body.

“Do you have any ideas as to what… This… Maybe?” Guilliman asked, frowning at the bottles neatly labeled and sitting on his desk.

Asterios hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should speak about his suspicions or not “While I can only speculate as to what this is, based on my experience as an Apothecary and the few properties of this fluid I have been able to determine from expressing it from your body…”

“Directly, son. Please stop dancing around the subject.” Guilliman ordered him not unkindly, though his face was stern. 

“I… Suspect this may be breast milk, sir. It looks and smells like it, sir. I have helped numerous chapter serfs through their pregnancies and during the months that babies require nursing. It is… Unusual but not unheard of for men and masculine presenting humans to produce milk.” Asterios explained hesitantly. He tucked his hands behind his back, to avoid fidgeting before his liege lord. “The common causes are due to either a hormone imbalance, certain kinds of medications and supplements, regular nipple stimulation, or heightened sensitivity to prolactin. Additionally, there are a handful of warp-related foods, pollen and spells or curses that can cause male lactation. They are primarily Slaaneshi or Nurgilite in nature.”

The mask of calm on his Primarch's face wavered a little as he rumbled “I see. As far as I kn-... Ah.”

“Sir?” Sicarius prompted, his eyes narrowing a little “There was those ruins we stumbled across while fighting off the Tyranids last month, sire. We had chased the last of the all-devouring bastards there, and you slew the last of them with the flaming blade of the emperor. There was a brief flash of unnaturally blue warp-light that encapsulated the entire ruins for several seconds, blinding myself and every other Ultramarine in both the ruins and in a four square mile radius, with the ruins as the epi-center."

"... You are correct. Throne damn it, so I did have an encounter with a Warp Entity after we left that planet. I had thought it was a nightmare brought on by the many issues that plague the Imperium." Roboute sighed, sagging a little into his chair as he stared at the creamy substance that seemed to be mocking him in the bottles. "It... Wanted to thank me for freeing the material system from which it subsisted upon from being devoured by the Tyranids and said that it gave me a gift. A minor one, as it could - and this is as direct a quote as I can remember "not bless me with anything too grand a gift as The Anathema watches you closely, your spirit bolstered by his gilded light." It also said that the gift would help me in supporting my many children."

"... Father, I feel like I should ask Chief Librarian Tigurius to tend to you. Warpcraft is well outside of my realm of expertise." Asterios offered, genuine worry on his face as he looked his father over more closely. He did not appear to be warp tainted - no strange scales, eyes or orifices where they should not be. No tendrils, wings nor bone-growths (external or internal) had been found by the scanner, and the brief physical check he had performed as warp-augments could be missed by material scanners sometimes. 

Roboute sighed but nodded "You're assessment is correct. Please ask Varro to come... But I'd rather this matter be handled as discreetly as possible." The Imperial Regent was very much aware of the fact that his hold over the Imperium was tenuous at best and largely relied upon the fact that his sons - and his brothers' sons who had remained loyal to the Imperium had largely thrown their tremendous support behind him. The Astra Militarum leadership (the ones who weren't corrupt idiots who he would be having dealt with as he had time) was wary of him and while they lent their support to him, Roboute knew that only those who hailed from Ultramar had truly meant their words of fealty when they knelt and swore to him. "In the meantime do... Something with this liquid. I'm not sure if it is volatile or what disposal methods are safest, but please do be careful with it, Asterios."

"As you command, Father." The Chief Apothecary answered with a nod, a small smile appearing on his face, despite the worry. The moments when his Lord Father showed affection or care for one of them was always a hearts-warming blessing. He carefully placed the filled glass containers into the mostly-empty kit, using the remaining items to pad the glass bottles on the trip out. The sweet scent had mostly dissipated and should be hidden by the thickness of the container they were placed in and thus, should not attract attention.

~

It did not take long for Varro to arrive, and Roboute had half a mind to gently but firmly ask Cato to stop hovering quite so close... However the worried but determined expression on his son's face stilled his tongue. Besides, Cato had been quite withdrawn since barely surviving his trip through the warp. The fact that he was more actively engaging with others around him was something that the Primarch intended to encourage. 

"Asterios said that you required my assistance with a sensitive matter, my lord?" Varro inquired, saluting him as he entered Roboute's office, the door closing automatically behind him.

"I did, please come closer." Roboute instructed the powerful psyker. He briefly explained the... Issue he was suffering from, and it's likely source, given the dreaming interaction he had with the warp entity. Roboute also described what the entity looked like, to the best that he could remember. The primarch was fairly certain it wasn't a deamon of one of the Four, but he couldn't be sure and would rather be cautious than foolhardy whenever prudent. 

"If you'll allow me, my lord, I can do a psychic scan of your body, to check for warp tampering. It also may give me insight into how to correct the issue, though I will likely need to spend time researching about possible other cases of something like this happening to others, sire." Tigurius asked. 

"You may." The Primarch allowed with a nod.

"Very well, I shall begin. You may feel a slight pressure or tingling sensation at my psychic touch, lord. But it should not hurt, if it does, please tell me and where it does ache." The Librarian instructed his father, seeing Cato tense and shift into a defensive stance. 

"Easy, Cato. He is here to help try and solve this issue. Would you like to wait outside my office until the psychic examination is over?" Roboute asked, keenly aware of hos uncomfortable warp use made Cato, even allied psykers. Considering his recent warp-based traumas, it made sense.

Cato hesitated for a moment before shaking his head a little "No sir. It is my duty and honor to guard you, my lord. So I shall do my duty."

"Very well, Cato." Roboute answered with a small smile, gently patting his tightly wound son on one shoulder.

The captain of his personal guard immediately relaxed a little, subtly leaning into his touch for a moment before coming back to himself.

"If you are ready, my lord, I shall begin." Varro prompted.

"Please do so." Roboute murmured with a nod.

At his command, Varro's eyes light up with the bright, electric blue of warpcraft, the head of his staff crackling as well. 

Roboute could feel when the other's psychic touch made contact with him, and fought off the instinctual urge to try and resist the touch - or to lunge after the one who dared try to use warp-craft on him. Varro was one of his hands and a stalwart ally who had been helping lead the Ultramarines to victory and avoid ruinous defeat for centuries. Roboute also kept an eye on Cato the entire time, noting the way that the other tensed and shifted a little from where he was standing throughout the entire procedure. He was scowling at the ground, one hand gripping the handle of his family's ancestral blade, the other clenching and relaxing at his side. 

Varro's eyes returned to normal after several long minutes of scanning. He swayed a little on his feet and Roboute silently gestured for Cato to go support his brother.

 Which Cato complied without complaint or hesitation, guiding the powerful psyker to one of the seats and fetching a bottle of water for the other to sip from. 

Roboute waited for Varro to gather himself before asking any questions, not wanting to overwhelm the other. There was a good chance the other was partially overwhelmed by whatever Father had done to raise him from the dead, after Mortarion had struck him down, months ago. He had also gotten some information that father had intended for their souls to be grander, more powerful than baseline mortals and astartes and had somehow manage to do so, which may have overwhelmed Varro's otherworldly senses. 

Cato pulled out a ration bar, peeled back the protective packaging and shoved it into Varro's free hand "Eat. You're not the best at remembering to eat regularly and warp-sorcery takes a great deal out of you. Especially subtle magicks." 

Varro took the ration bar and bit into it tiredly as he swatted at Cato half-heartedly "I'll be fine. I just need a moment to recover. It's not often that one has the honor of looking directly at the soul of one's primarch. The experience was illuminating and humbling." Despite the grumbling, he was leaning into Cato for a bit of support as he finished the ration bar and water bottle. 

Roboute patiently waited for his chief librarian to recover, as he knew that rushing psykers never, ever ended well for anyone. He shifted so that one of his hands was covering his mouth, so that neither of them would notice the way that he was grinning at the brotherly interactions between the two high ranking officers of his Ultramarines. His highest-ranking officers all had big personalities and they clashed regularly. It was good to see that they did genuinely care for one another as well, though they were clearly trying to hide the genuine care and concern with teasing words and grumbling. He knew that one of the main reasons why Cato regularly pestered a certain Fourth Captain was due to the fact that the poor man was regularly accosted by the forces of chaos, several warlords being personally interested in capturing and breaking said captain personally. 

Varro cleared his throat and sat up properly in his chair, and stated "I saw that something had been altered within your body via warp-craft. It was a subtle change and I will need to do research in to see if this has happened to others before. Your mammary glands have been activated, causing you to produce..." Varro abruptly stopped talking, going a fascinating shade of red before paling.

Cato jabbed Varro in the side "Causing father to produce what? Out with it Tiggy." 

"Don't call me Tiggy in front of father! You're the *worst*, Cato! Besides. I am. Trying to figure out how to say... Uhm. I'm at a bit of a loss for words how to say this politely, so please forgive my bluntness, my lord." Tigurius responded, taking in a deep breath before responding, not looking Roboute in the eye as he did so "You are now producing breast milk. As far as I am aware, no primarch has ever produced breast milk before, so the... Properties of the fluid in question are ones I wouldn't begin to speculate on, my lord. But... You mentioned that the warp-entity claimed that they were giving you a blessing that would... Help us somehow?"

"That is what they claimed. Whether or not they were telling the truth - and if their perception of helpful is anywhere near what we material beings would actually consider helpful is another matter entirely. Instruct one of your seconds to research into local legends and beliefs of the system we liberated from the tyranids and brought back into the imperial fold. Their beliefs about any gods will affect the nature of the warp entity that has laid claim to that system, and give us a bit of a framework as to just what we are dealing with. At least, if I remember Magnus' ranting on such things correctly..." There was a rueful smile on his face as he mentioned one of his treacherous brothers. By all that was good in the galaxy did he miss them. Even if he would be teased for centuries about this, he had no doubt that Magnus would have figured out something about his new... Issue. 

He could also see the teasing grin on Horus' face, should the treacherous warmaster had found out before he had turned against them all... And Roboute could guess what the other might say about it as well. He shook himself mentally. Now was no time to be maudlin and wallow in sorrow. He had to project an image of strength and serenity for the sake of his sons. For Ultramar and the Imperium as a whole. Even if he was deeply unhappy about the fact that his body had been altered without his consent or full knowledge of what was happening. 

Damn warp entities and their vexing, meddling ways. 

"Father?" Cato asked, a frown of concern on his face.

Yes, Cato?" Roboute prompted, realizing that both Varro and Cato had been talking when his mind had wandered off. "Please look into this matter... Discretely." He had no desire to find out what the reactions to him being altered in such a way by the other powerful factions of the imperium. "And... Do keep this from our guests of the Adeptus Ministorum. I would rather the ecclesiarchy not get involved in my medical care." That and if he had to deal with that damned priest ranting about warp entities or whatever grox-shit filled nonsense about him producing life-nourishing milk from his body, he would drop-kick the blathering bastard off Maccrage's Honor from orbit over one of the many worlds teeming with orkz and watch as he was ripped apart piece by piece. 

"Yes father, of course. Is there anything else you require of me?" Varro asked, standing up as he asked.

Roboute shook his head "No, you are dismissed. Please keep me updated as you learn things - or if you need additional resources to research. If you need a sample of the... Fluid, Asterios has a good amount of it on hand currently, though I do not know for how long he will have it before it's disposed of."

"I will keep that in mind, thank you father." Varro answered, saluting him before leaving his office.

The primarch heaved a silent sigh, before returning to the endless amounts of digital paperwork he was required to do. He had full confidence in his sons to figure out what to do about this new development. And if they didn't... As much as Roboute loathed the very idea of owing a certain Magos Dominus even more than he already did... Belisarius Cawl was certainly effective in his methods. Not that Roboute was going to rush to set up another meeting between the two of them. He had full confidence in his sons to figure out if this was a dangerous development or if it truly could be a useful if mildly embarrassing asset.

[scripttorture]

I have 2 questions: one is if someone was blindfolded and had earphones forced in their ears with music blasting so they could not see or hear as stuff was happening to their body would their mind go to the extreme- thus making the sensation seem more agonizing than what it really Is? I have my MC being forcefully tattooed in a cult initiation and I was going to describe it in a way as if he thinks he is being sliced or burned. My second question has to do with working around the (1/2)

(2/2) "brainwashing" thing. My same MC is being conditioned into joining a cult of young killers. He believes he in love with the girl but her entire identity is a facade. She comes up with many for individual people, testing out their loyalty and dedication for her using love, lust or desperation. She plays with their loneliness, disorders and addictions while still playing as if she is their saving grace. Anyone who isn't swayed over enough she drops and moves on. How is that?One last piece! There is a point where my MC crosses paths with a girl who tries to explain with her own experience that she was being manipulated into being apart if sinister things. The mentioned cult recruiter girl preyed on the fact that she was lonely and depressed, took her to festivals, then slowly more intimate and less populated parties and dinners. Then they would sit in the back of her car and smoke weed (which she never did before) but it was laced with valium or ecstasy to make herWarm up to her and when the cultist would leave for long periods at a time her withdrawals from the drugs would make her thing she was just lonely and with heart ache. Would that work?

I’ve gotta say thephrase ‘working around the brainwashing thing’ made me worry where this wasgoing to go. But this reads like you’re going for fairly straightforward andrealistic manipulation and coercion.

 I’ve also had a tattoomyself (under normal circumstances) so I can talk a little about the physicalsensation that goes with that.

 Let’s start with thefirst question.

 A lot of peopledescribe tattooing as like ‘cat scratches’. I found it pretty easy to imagineit as a ‘cutting’ sensation but I don’t think it would be possible to interpretthe sensation as a hot or cold burn.

 The ‘cutting’ sensationmay have had something to do with the pattern that involved a lot of straightlines which were gone over repeatedly. It may also have had something to do with my liking scarifications.

 I don’t think ablindfold or music would, in and of itself, make the victim interpret tattooingas cutting. However, if he was toldhe was going to be cut and shown knives before he was blindfolded I think it’sperfectly possible the suggestion would lead to him interpreting the sensationas cutting. This isn’t an effect ofthe blindfold and music ‘amplifying’ the sensation; it’s to do with how we…interpretsensation based on what we expect.

 I think yourmanipulation scenario sounds perfectly feasible, especially since you’re goingout of your way to show it doesn’t work on everyone and the manipulator ‘drops’people it doesn’t seem to be working on, moving on to other victims.

 I don’t think the drugsare a necessary addition. But if you feel they’re essential to your plot I don’tthink they make anything less plausible. Just be careful not to make it aboutthe drugs. Manipulative scenarios like this one work because the victim issocially isolated and becomes dependant on their manipulator/cult and a storyexploring that should, I think, focus on that.

 The behaviours youdescribe seem plausible to me. However if you want a better understanding ofthe psychology behind them you’ll need to consult ScriptShrink, that’s a littleoutside my area. You might also want to look up the drugs you’re thinking of using in the story, both their effects, side effects and withdrawal symptoms. I don’t know a lot about that but I do know that not all drugs produce withdrawal symptoms if the victim has only taken it once or twice.

 Generally I think yourscenario works and I can’t see anything obvious that I’d suggest removing oradding to improve it.  

 Good luck with yourstory. :)

Disclaimer

[theliterarywolf]

You know, I was originally going to respond to this person with snark and flippancy. But then I do have to relent and say that me using the term ‘harmful’ in the original post when I really meant ‘inflammatory’ was my bad.

But... Even with me taking an L on my wording... I don’t get how the notion of ‘I don’t care if you write Zagreus getting done on all sides by the entire Greek Pantheon, I don’t care if you write some BakuDeku nonconsensual body-modifcation fic, I don’t care if you get off to characters from Genshin Impact NTR-ing each other... They are fictional? So that shit still isn’t hurting anyone? Saying shit like ‘Trans ppl, please go commit 43%’ or ‘Muslim people are all evil’ do effect real people?’ is hard to understand. 

‘Romanticizing abuse’... God, I wish I had the money to send a copy of Quills to everyone who pulls the whole ‘romanticizing abuse’ angle in regards to fictional work. Because, literally, unless you aren’t mentally sound, the average person can look at all the fucked up fanfics and smut and erotica and come out with ‘wow, that’s fucked up and/or kind of hot. Good thing it’s only fiction, though!’