#Especially if you change the conditions that caused that behavior

[contemporaryelfinchild]

Its important to me that Trigun is, fundamentally, at it's heart, about restorative vs retributive justice.

[animeyanderelover]

Hii!

I am so glad your requests are finally open :D

Is it possible for me to ask for yandere Meruem+royal guards (like you did at some point, if not just please ignore this!) with a darling who is on her period??

Tyy for reading my request and you are always free to ignore this one!!

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, clinginess, overprotective behavior, some Nsfw, blood kink, breeding kink, dub-con, manipulation, mentions of pregnancy, isolation, afab reader

Tags: @jamayah @chxxz @shenryu-sama @maggiequinn59 @leveyani @cynniical

Darling on her period

👑🐈🎻💥Some brief questions will undoubtedly be raised, whether you bring up the topic of your menstruation and your need for hygiene products before your week begins or when it happens. After all the biology of Chimera Ants is very different than the one from a biological woman. Everything will be swiftly taken care of though as soon as you have explained yourself. Shaiapouf and Meruem are the ones who inform themselves the quickest about everything involving a period and it is the butterfly who arranges everything so that you receive what you need even before Meruem can order any of his servants to do so. Neferpitou prefers seeking you out themselves and questioning you about how a period exactly works instead of picking up a book. Youpi, who has no human genes in him is the one who would probably be the one who understands the least about your condition but with all the commotion going on around him he picks up enough to get a decent idea of what your body goes through once a month.

👑🐈🎻💥Whether you plan to tell anyone about when exactly your period starts or not is nothing you hold any control over. Not only do they sense the change, they even smell it. So when you have four pairs of eyes looking at you even more oddly than what you are used to don’t wonder why. It is Shaiapouf who makes the most drama the first time it happens as he initially believes that you have gotten hurt, his words causing Pitou to active their Nen ability in case you need medical assistance whilst even Youpi steps closer, the worry of the butterfly seemingly infectious. It’s Meruem who tells all of them sternly off with only a few words before he questions you what’s going on. The first time you have your menstruation whilst captured as their darling is the time they’re the most attentive to see how you’re feeling and how you can help. They remain that attentive to you even when you don’t have your period but whenever your bloody week arrives all of them are more overbearing than normally though all of them have different ways to treat you on your week.

👑Meruem keeps you more to himself than normally when you are on your period as the scent of your blood clings even more to you when you are menstruating. One reason for that is so that you don’t wander off and the scent of your period attracts other Chimera Ants lurking around the palace. The other reason is that he finds himself sexually more aroused when you’re on your days and wants you with him so that you’re available any time he needs to have your body. Your period is after all an indicator that you aren’t pregnant yet, something Meruem strives to change sooner or later as his biology as the king of the Chimera Ants demands of him to set heirs into the world to see it through that his kind thrives. When he isn’t in a sexual mood he sees it through that you receive everything you need. As your period tends to make you more sensitive and emotional Meruem somehow seems to be more irritated as well, especially towards his servants if they are even one milisecond too late when you ask for something, especially if you are in pain.

🐈​Neferpitou is the most playful one from the servants, even more so when you are on your period. They understand pretty soon that you tend to suffer from cramps or just feel very uncomfortable and sensitive in general when you have your monthly bleeding so they do their best to make you focus on something else. Pitou lets you touch their ears and their tail if you want to, resting their head in your lap as you do so or searches for other things that the two of you can do in the time where the both of you are alone. They bring new card games and board games with them to distract you from any pain or discomfort you may feel and they lose on purpose in order to avoid making you sad since you tend to be more easily frustrated when bleeding and in pain. When they hear from Shaiapouf that apparently an orgasm helps with cramps they even offer to make you cum around their fingers or their tongue if you are in extreme pain though they won't force you if you instead ask for pills instead. Neferpitou is most likely still a tad bit disappointed.

🎻��Shaiapouf is the most attentive one during your period, far exceeding everyone else to the point where it is too much. As the obsessive freak he is for his darling he marks down every day they are bleeding and then calculates when they are most likely to experience their menstruation again. A few days before it happens he is already hovering around you more, asking you if he can do anything for you. He doesn't let you take any medication against the cramps when he is the one attending to you as he believes that you don't need them when he is the one serving you. He prepares you your snacks and meals, plays the violin for you, makes sure that you drink enough throughout the day and spends every minute coddling you, especially when you are in pain and he brings you a hot-watter bottle. There is a strong urge to wrap you up in his wings and cuddle with you when you are laying in bed whilst suffering from your cramps and he may just act on that urge from time to time. He's also the first one who finds out that an orgasm helps with the blood flow and reduces the cramps and as the loyal servant he is he insists and succeeds in convincing you to let him assist you in any way he can.

💥Youpi is the breath of fresh air, the calmest one from all of them. In between his King and the other two servants he is the one who gives you the most space though he is still always lingering close to you in case something should happen or you should need something. As his obsession usually shows itself more when you are in danger he is the most normal one which is ironic considering that he is the least human from all of them. As there is no one he can kill and rip apart when you are suffering from cramps he finds himself initially struggling as he doesn't know how he can help until you tell him of the pain killers which he from that day on then promptly provides and keeps stored somewhere when he is the only one looking after you for a moment. If you need any comfort, especially when you are in pain he usually lets you sit in his lap whilst keeping one of his big hands over your womb and rubbing it in hopes of helping you with the pain until the pain killers do their work.

[aevallare]

faith (halsin x f!tav)

ao3 link if preferred summary:

“I like you," Aeva says. "I don’t know if I understand what that means.”

It would be awkward if it wasn’t so honest, so unabashedly her. Aeva spent most of her life as a slave and the time after that with only the wildlife at the Giant’s Chalice for companionship. He hasn’t allowed his heart to stir this way since Reithwin fell, but in pledging herself to his cause as he pledges himself to hers, Aeva hasn’t given him a choice.

“The feeling is mutual,” Halsin says. Aeva’s lips twitch.

tags: Porn with Feelings, First Time, Act II, Breeding, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Touch Aversion, Vague Implications of Infertility, References to Past Sexual Assault

Halsin avoids her the day after she kisses him. He doesn’t mean to — no, that’s a lie. He doesn’t want to. He just doesn’t trust himself, exactly. Aeva is no fragile doll, but she showed him a place where she’s cracked, last night, and he has to be honest. They were both raw from confronting ghosts and killing skeletons. The bear within him would have been difficult to control, and he’d like to offer her a gentler touch than that despite the steel of her exterior.

“Drunkenness does not come to me naturally. I apologize for my behavior last night.”

Aeva is so quiet. Halsin never hears her coming.

“I require no apology,” Halsin says. She stands next to him, staring straight into the curse-tinged darkness for which there is no one to blame but himself. “As I said, I only wished for you not to do something you would come to regret.”

“Of all things in this life, I am not sure how someone like you could be a regret,” she says, all but silent. The melancholy that always underlines her words is exaggerated by the dread Halsin feels as he takes in the road ahead. There are many whose lives would be better for not knowing him, Halsin thinks. He is a regret for no small number of reasons for people he doesn’t want to begin to count. For the druids of the grove that he failed, for the matron whose collar he slipped, for Thaniel, who he lost when it mattered most—

“Halsin?” Aeva says his name in her whisper-voice, and he inhales deeply, letting his eyes flutter shut as he centers himself. The rot in the air permeates everything; there’s no peace to be found in this place and he is the reason why. “Halsin.”

No. He never hears her coming.

Aeva’s hand slips into his. His gaze snaps to her, but her expression hasn’t changed. The comfort is surprising but hardly unwelcome, especially from someone who’s so particular about touch. Her cheeks darken the slightest when she feels his eyes on her, but she says, “You want to lift this curse, so we’ll lift it.”

He could kiss her, but he doesn’t get the chance. He probably wouldn’t have taken it anyway. She’s more comfortable when she sets the pace. When Aeva stretches up, though, Halsin leans down to meet her, and her lips brush against his. She pulls away as quickly as she leaned into him and says, “I like you. I don’t know if I understand what that means.”

It would be awkward if it wasn’t so honest, so unabashedly her. Aeva spent most of her life as a slave and the time after that with only the wildlife at the Giant’s Chalice for companionship. He hasn’t allowed his heart to stir this way since Reithwin fell, but in pledging herself to his cause as he pledges himself to hers, Aeva hasn’t given him a choice.

“The feeling is mutual,” Halsin says. Aeva’s lips twitch.

“What happens next, then? Shadow Curse notwithstanding.”

A question for the ages, no doubt. He had vowed never to allow himself pleasures of the flesh until he righted the evil done unto Reithwin, but he’s closer than he’s ever been to being able to do something about the Curse, and it’s thanks to her.

“The curse is a large condition to have looming over us,” Halsin says, but he doesn’t feel as desperate as he had before Aeva snuck up beside him. “But if you would have me, I would have you.”

“I would prefer not to be surrounded by ghostly ravens and sentient shadows the first time, at least,” Aeva says mildly.

“As you wish,” Halsin says, laughing even as they face down the consequences of his every failure.

Astarion pushes between them, apparently fed up with waiting, and walks into the darkness, Shadowheart on his heels. “Cowards, the both of you. If you’re going to fuck, at least do it somewhere that the rest of us can have the pleasure of watching.”

Aeva frowns. Halsin chuckles. They won’t be safe until the curse is lifted. He has time to think about how best to move forward.

----------------------

Halsin was wrong. Last Light is a bastion of Selûnite magic in the heart of the darkness, and the time for consideration has passed quicker than he could have imagined. Aeva, as always, is the picture of efficiency. She begins to shed her armor the moment that the door to a private room closes behind them, and Halsin says, “Patience, little fox.”

Aeva blinks at him as if she doesn’t understand the concept, thoughts unreadable as her eyes bore into him. Navigating her touch adversity is at the forefront of his mind, but she solves the puzzle for him, pulling him close until he has her wedged against the door. This feels like a betrayal of his self-imposed moratorium on carnal pleasure, but, “You should take fun where you can find it,” he’d told her.

What kind of man would he be to make a liar of himself?

A selfish one. This isn’t about morals. It’s about desire. And for once, he and the bear are in alignment.

They both want her.

Aeva managed to remove most of her armor before Halsin stopped her, but she wears a shirt for his hands to slip under, still. Her abdomen tenses as his fingers roam over her core, and Halsin hesitates. “Don’t stop,” she exhales.

When her shirt falls to the floor, there are more scars on Aeva’s skin than Halsin can trace. It pains him, but he’s hardly surprised. His masters, too, were cruel. Aeva’s breath comes in gasps, equal parts anticipation and resistance to flee, and again, Halsin pauses.

Aeva’s eyes are flinty when she meets his. “I said not to stop.”

“Your body says otherwise.”

“My mind knows better than my flesh,” Aeva says stubbornly. “You will not break me. You do not have the heart for it.”

It’s a compliment wrapped in an insult. Aeva’s throat quivers despite the bravery in her voice, and Halsin hears what she’s saying perfectly.

I choose to trust you despite my fear.

She is a marvel.

Kissing her means dipping low. She’s shorter than him by a head and then some, but the reward is more than worth the effort. Aeva’s pulse flutters in her throat as Halsin’s lips meet hers, and one of her hands falls between his legs. His hips roll into her touch instinctively, and the growl that rumbles deep in his throat isn’t him. He can’t afford to lose control completely, and the bear thrashes within him, the primal desire to mark, to claim, to breed—

To breed?

It’s becoming clearer by the moment, especially as Aeva’s fingers dip low to loosen his trousers, that this may have been a mistake, and not because he doesn’t want to do this. He wants to do this too much.

Her hand slips beneath his waistband. The moment that Aeva’s fingers trail along the outline of his cock, Halsin runs his tongue over his teeth, and again, Aeva pulls him closer, fussing with her own clothes, leggings and underwear both dropping to the floor. There’s no room to doubt what her intentions are, but—

She’s more eager than he’s comfortable with, and when he murmurs, “I’ll hurt you if you don’t give me a chance first, little fox,” Aeva blinks.

“And?”

Confusion colors Aeva’s gaze, and Halsin’s lips part. When he doesn’t speak, Aeva says, “I don’t care if it hurts.”

If she wasn’t all but naked and pressed to him, if her nails didn’t dig into his chest, he might think she was uninterested, but that isn’t the case, and if there’s anything that he knows about Aeva, it’s that she doesn’t appreciate it when people push. When Halsin does, he doesn’t do it with words. It’s the first touch he’s initiated since they walked into this room, but he cages her beneath him, one elbow on the door for support and the other finding purchase behind Aeva’s head. He tilts her chin up to capture her mouth once more, and this time, she doesn’t tense. Her body is as tough as her resolve, but her lips give him entrance when his tongue seeks it.

“I care if it hurts you,” he says after, and Aeva’s brow furrows as if he’s said something incomprehensible. For a moment, Halsin thinks she might say something, but Aeva remains wordless as he kisses his way down her stomach, paying tribute to as many of her thousands of scars as he can manage.

When his hands grip her thighs and his kisses finally meet the trail of hair between her navel and hips as he kneels before her, Aeva tenses. Halsin’s touch lightens, and he looks up at her for any indication of what she wants to happen next. Aeva holds his gaze.

Her thighs quiver on either side of him.

“Would you allow me the honor?” he asks, and for a moment, he thinks Aeva might pull a knife on him.

Instead, he can all but hear the dryness of her mouth as she says, “Slaves aren’t permitted—”

He interrupts her. “I see no slaves here.”

The silence stretches on into eternity, and at last, she nods, a motion so minute that he might miss it if he wasn’t staring at her as if she was the only thing in the room. He holds her gaze even as his lips part, and when the flat of his tongue slides gently over the exposed nub between her legs, Aeva keens. Her hands flex as if she doesn’t know what to do with them, and Halsin wraps a gentle hand around one wrist to pull it to the back of his head. His cock throbs at the heady taste of her, and Aeva hesitates for only a moment before her fingers weave into his hair. When Halsin pulls away just enough to brush his thumb against her clit, Aeva whimpers, eyes still frantically trained on him.

She’s not the type to ask for permission, but when Halsin does as she did and nods, Aeva’s grip in his hair tightens to lead his mouth back to the place it’s wanted to be for hours. Days.

The first taste was quick, all but stolen. The second is a draught that Halsin would never interrupt if not for his need to breathe. Aeva’s hand in his hair serves little purpose but to steady her. If she vied for control, Halsin would relinquish it without hesitation, but she doesn’t. He presses a kiss to her clit. She shudders, and he’s hardly done anything yet.

When his tongue enters her, Aeva gasps, “Hells.”

It occurs to him that this might be the first time anyone’s performed this act for her. He doesn’t know if anyone’s ever performed any act for her; with what little he knows, it seems that mostly things have been done to her.

Halsin’s not a possessive man, but the bear finds the idea of people taking from this woman time and time again an encroachment of territory. And she hadn’t wanted to — Halsin’s more than capable of reading between the lines of her touch-aversion and stony exterior.

The bear threatens to rage.

Halsin placates the beast with the nectar of Aeva’s cunt, and though it writhes beneath his skin just as Aeva writhes above him, it’s enough for now. His magic recedes; it had pricked at the corner of his eyes before, but he reins it back in in time for Aeva’s knees to go weak. Her back slides against the door as his tongue reaches inside her, mumbling curses in Low Drow.

When was the last time he tasted something so sweet?

His cock strains against his trousers as Aeva’s hand seeks purchase anywhere it can find it, but nowhere seems to satisfy. Halsin’s mouth never leaves her, but he peers up at Aeva as one of his hands finds the crook of her knee. “Yes,” she says, breathless, and Halsin lifts one of her legs up onto his shoulder and then the other. Aeva wavers, adjusting to the weightlessness, but she’s quick to find her balance. Her thighs press against his ears, warm against his face as her cunt is in his mouth, wet and dripping. Arousal drips down his chin, her slick mixed with his saliva, and when he pulls his mouth away, Aeva whines.

Halsin’s never seen her beg for anything.

“Don’t stop,” she pleads.

Her hair’s askew and her face and chest are both dark with rushes of blood. Halsin leans her into the door, a hand on her ass and the other brushing against her clit. “Will you come for me, little fox?”

“A thousand times, Halsin,” she says breathlessly, though she seems to be trying valiantly not to fall entirely apart. The circles he rubs into her clit are slow and deliberate. “I’ll come for you a thousand times.”

The mess he’s made of her cunt makes two fingers possible, if a tight fit. It takes a moment to find the spot he’s looking for, but there’s no doubt that he does. Aeva’s back arches, head tilting into the door even before his mouth finds her clit once more. “More,” she says, fighting to stay her measured self even as she whimpers, close to release.

Halsin’s mouth slides from her clit with a popping sound. “Two seems to be plenty,” he says, not unkindly, but Aeva stares down at him.

“Your cock is going to be bigger than two of your fingers,” she says. “And I plan to take that, too.”

The bear roars, and Halsin feels a little more than unmade at the thought himself. A third finger joins the first two and her walls stretch to accommodate, tight and warm. He seeks the same spot again, and when he finds it, Halsin’s fingers curl in time with his lips sealing tight around her clit. More vulgarity spills from Aeva’s lips, in Common, Low Drow, and Undercommon, too. Her hands are at Halsin’s ears, holding his face close even as her thighs do the same.

When Aeva comes, she shatters. It’s the loudest that Halsin’s ever heard her be. Her body convulses and she pulls at his hair without mercy; his cock throbs at the sensation. The position isn’t one that makes it easy for her to move, but she tries to fuck herself against his hand as best she can anyway, and when at last she comes down and pushes his face away, she slides off his shoulders and into his arms. He doesn’t let her feet touch the ground, wrapping her legs around his waist instead. Aeva stares at him but complies, back to her hard-to-read self even in these moments immediately after bliss.

“Good?” he asks, standing and walking toward the bed.

Aeva nods, licking her lips. “Yes. I—” She stops, sucking in the insides of her cheeks.

“What?”

“I knew it could be good, but I didn’t understand.”

He’d thought as much.

Halsin lays her on the bed, flat on her back, and undresses. She watches and says nothing, but his mind races with what she said before.

“Your cock is going to be bigger than two of your fingers.”

All too true. Drow are small. Aeva’s only half-drow, but it’s no less a fact. She’s small. And Halsin is… not.

“I’ll be gentle,” he says.

Aeva smiles. It’s barely there, a ghost of a thing, but she smiles.

And when his cock springs free, her eyes widen. It’s only for a moment, but Halsin notices, and he says, “We don’t have to.”

Aeva nods. “I want to.”

“If—”

“I was right, though,” she muses. “About the two fingers.”

Halsin blinks.

“Was that a joke?” he asks.

Aeva blinks back.

“I apologize. Was it in poor taste? I’m not—”

When Halsin rests atop her, elbow propping him up on the bed, he interrupts her with a kiss. His tongue drags across her lips, and she makes a needy sound, hips bucking up, seeking his. When Halsin lowers himself, his cock between her thighs, he pulls away from the kiss. “I don’t know that I’ve heard you make a joke before.”

The length of him brushes against her clit, and she shivers. “Levity doesn’t come easily to me,” she says. “The chances I had for it were few.”

It’s wet between her legs. The self-restraint it takes not to lose himself is immense, and he must wear it on his face. “Nothing you do to me could be worse than what’s been done before,” Aeva says. Her words assuage neither beast nor man. Halsin’s arms quiver and the bear rages.

And he’s weak. He’s always been weak, borne on the currents of the world around him, never able to affect change in any way that matters.

“Care, little fox…” he manages, but Aeva only blinks back, face as unreadable as ever.

“You wanted me to have a soft touch, and you gave it. If the bear seeks release and it’s only on my account you hold out, then let it free.”

He didn’t name the bear. Aeva came to the conclusion herself, and he isn’t sure how. Aeva’s fingers tease the hair on his stomach. Halsin isn’t even sure she can take him. A few inches, yes, perhaps two-thirds of his cock, but the whole thing?

She’s so small.

“The bear wants to…” Halsin grits his teeth, cock sliding between slick folds. His hips move of their own accord Aeva exhales in bliss and desire; he shouldn’t be entertaining the idea at all. “The bear wants to fill you until your stomach is swollen with a litter of cubs. “

Aeva doesn’t flinch at his admission. The head of him brushes against her entrance. His nails are all but claws in the mattress.

“The bear can try.”

Halsin wants to ask what she means.

The bear has other ideas.

“I won’t break,” Aeva says. She doesn’t understand— “I trusted you,” she says. “I’m trusting you. That doesn’t come easily to me. Trust me back.”

“You don’t know what you’re agreeing to,” he says, but the bear’s already won. He’s only delaying the inevitable.

“I’ve had few choices in my life. I make this one willingly,” Aeva says, her voice barely a whisper. She pulls his head low until their lips are almost touching, her hands in his hair. “Breed me, Archdruid. Make me fat with child.”

Aeva pulls the magic from him with her words. It doesn’t pulse; it pours. He’ll stay an elf in form (mostly), but the energy is a primal thing. What she said before (“The bear can try”) is irrelevant. There’s a pliant, willing, beautiful woman underneath him, and there’s no doubt in Halsin’s mind that he could break her if he tried, but neither he nor the bear wants that.

This time when Halsin kisses her, their teeth clatter together with the force of it. When he pulls away, he flips her with ease, and Aeva settles onto her hands and knees instinctively. Her slit drips before him, and Halsin’s muscles ripple and his cock swells as it presses against her entrance.

Halsin’s chest heaves. Aeva moves her knees, adjusting, and when she does, her ass rocks side to side. His mouth goes dry. “I will… try to be gentle,” he manages.

Aeva looks back at him over her shoulder. “It would be nice at the start, if possible. Once I manage to take it, do what you like.”

He guides his cock to her cunt and pauses, inhaling deeply, fighting the urge to see just how much she can take in just one stroke. It’s Aeva who pushes back onto him, cunt spreading to take him. She stretches around his cock with her hand between her legs, an obscene sight, folds splitting as she sinks back. Aeva pants. Halsin says, “You are dangerous.”

Aeva doesn’t answer. She only moves forward and back again as Halsin watches, his cock sliding a fraction of an inch deeper inside her each time. He’s managed to hold himself in check, but Aeva doesn’t flinch as his hand ghosts along the roundest part of her ass. Her arousal glistens along him, and the deliberate way she rocks back and forth is maddening, but after what feels like an eternity—

Her ass meets his hips, his cock fully nestled inside her. Aeva’s breath comes in ragged gulps. “Fuck.”

Neither of them move for a moment. If Halsin so much as twitches, he might lose control. And Aeva asks, “Has the bear lost his nerve? I would think that’s exactly where he’d like to be, if breeding me is his aim.”

Aeva leans forward a final time and snaps her hips backward.

He doesn’t understand her.

He doesn’t need to.

It’s out of his hands.

Halsin doesn’t know if the roar he lets loose is metaphorical or real. His claws dig into her waist and her hip, and the cry Aeva lets out is borne of lust, not fear. Halsin can’t see as much of her as he’d like in this position, but it has its perks. Her ass bounces against him, tight and slim like the rest of her, and the thought of it being his spend that changes her has his grip tightening. Her pert chest and her flat stomach will both swell and the children she bears will be his. His claws leave red marks everywhere he touches, graceless, but Aeva only moans, slick with sweat and cum and pleasure as he thrusts into her time and time again.

It’s not deep enough. It will never be deep enough. When he presses himself against her back and pushes as far as her body will take him, Aeva falls face-first into the mattress. Halsin buries his face in her neck, rutting into her like the animal that she’s dragged out of him. The scent of her is overwhelming, and Halsin thinks he could stay here forever, but—

It’s been centuries since Halsin’s indulged the bear (or himself) this way. He was never going to last, but he doesn’t have to. Aeva’s just as pent up as he is even after her earlier orgasm. Her hand’s been working as frantically at her clit as his hips have been at her cunt. Her cervix is there — he pounds against it — but she takes each thrust without complaint. She’d meant what she said about letting the bear breed her, and when Aeva’s knees go weak and her walls squeeze around him, intent on drawing out every drop of cum from him they can. Aeva cries out into the mattress as she climaxes, and when she falls apart on his cock, he plunges into her once more, twice more, a third time.

Halsin spills himself into her with a grunt more beast than man. He fucks her as full as he can manage, but it’s too much and Aeva’s too small. Even before he leaves her cunt, his spend leaks from her. Aeva tilts her hips upward as much as she can manage in this position, and he groans into her neck at the movement.

The bear wants to keep her. Whoever and whatever else she has is her business. But again, the bear and Halsin are in agreement. His heart doesn’t stir lightly, but it does stir now.

His hands trail down along her sides as Halsin sits back on his heels, finally pulling his still-leaking cock from her. Cum drips down her thighs and a sheen of sweat covers her, and Aeva makes no move to get into a more comfortable position. She’s still until Halsin grabs her around the waist and pulls her down onto the bed next to him so they face one another. When he moves to pull her tight against his chest, she shrinks away.

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t—” Aeva swallows hard.

“No explanation necessary,” he says, despite the hundred questions rattling in his chest. “I’m here if you change your mind.”

He expects her to roll over and go to sleep. Instead, she blinks at him. “You’re strange.”

He laughs. “Am I?”

Aeva nods. “I’m strange, too. I’m glad that I met you.”

She shuffles closer and presses another kiss to his lips, brief, chaste, soft before pulling away and falling asleep. He thinks she does, anyway, but without opening her eyes, she says, “I’ll be on top next time.”

When her chest rises and falls steadily, Halsin exhales another laugh. They have much to talk about, but yes. Strange. They both are.

[novlr]

how to write a character dealing with addiction (like drugs, cigarettes etc..)

Writing a character with an addiction is to write about someone who is controlled by that substance. They are chasing that first experience of euphoria, pain relief, excess energy, or relaxation. They are avoiding the emotional and physical crashes of withdrawal. Their behavior to outsiders often appears erratic and illogical. It is a powerful motivator for a character and can drive a plot, be an obstacle, and/or an antagonist. 

How does addiction work?

Addictive substances typically mimic naturally occurring chemicals in the body. They amplify the effects of these chemicals and flood the body. Stimulants will give a person extra, even excessive, amounts of energy, relaxants will relieve tension, and pain relievers will bring about euphoria. Whatever the substance of choice, it counters stress in some form. 

Many people self-medicate for underlying physical or mental conditions. Others take them to fit in with a social group. As a writer, you need to ask yourself a very important question: Why did your character first start taking this substance? That will inform you about why they continue. Are they escaping pain? Quieting anxiety or racing thoughts? Do they need to take it to fit into their social group? What happens when they stop taking it?  

Addiction is an illness. It is a medical condition. Treating it as a matter of willpower is to doom a person to suffer. There are effective medical and psychological therapies that, especially when combined, can provide a way back to health, sobriety, and thriving.

Cravings

The important thing to understand about these substances is that the high always goes away. The emotional payoff of that first use is never achieved again. Each subsequent use has diminished payoffs and the after-effects are worsened. This is because the body is a fantastic accountant and will produce less of the mimicked substance because, hey, there’s an excess here. So your character will crave the substance in order to just feel baseline normal. 

Withdrawal

Don’t underestimate the fear of withdrawal. It is an uncomfortable and sometimes life-threatening set of physical symptoms. 

The degree and nature of the symptoms will vary depending on the substance, the amount usually consumed, and the length of time it’s been used. Caffeine, for example, will trigger headaches. Alcohol withdrawal can include shakes, nausea, seizures, and damage to the brain’s memory and balance systems. Opiate withdrawal can cause anxiety, nausea, muscle aches, and insomnia. Read up on the specifics of the substance your character is using. Be sure to use reputable medical websites. I’ve listed a couple in the resources section. 

People want to avoid withdrawal and will use substances to ease those symptoms, thus feeding the addiction. Again, there are medical interventions that can soften the withdrawal and support the patient through this medical crisis. 

Recovery

People with addictions can sometimes respond well to treatment and have a low risk of relapse. Others are not so fortunate and will bounce in and out of recovery. 

Fear of withdrawal is one reason. Another factor is developmental. The younger a person is when they start taking a substance, the harder it is to stop. This may be due to learned coping mechanisms, changes to the developing brain and body, or a combination of the two. 

How old was your character when they started taking the substance? Who introduced them to it? Was it a parent handing them a beer at age five or a pain pill at age twelve? Was it friends at a high school party? Or did they start in adulthood? This will inform their likelihood of recovery and how hard that path will be for them. 

Struggles to quit, or why does this person keep relapsing?

Withdrawal and cravings are part of the reason it is so hard to stop an addiction. There are medical and psychological therapies that can help. Rehab is a major industry in many countries. There are also several obstacles to overcome. Cost is a factor in places without universal healthcare. Then there is denial. Many people with addictions don’t believe they have a problem. And when they do, they may feel shame if they live in a culture where addiction is seen as a matter of willpower rather than a medical condition. 

How do friends and family, employers, and others in the community treat your character? Does admitting to addiction mean they are admitting to weakness?

Another social factor is that it is hard to stop an addiction if the person doesn’t change their environment. Friends that also use that substance will enable and even encourage them to start using again. Places can be strong behavioral cues. Can an alcoholic walk into a familiar bar and resist ordering a drink? 

It’s also important to remember that substance use is often a coping mechanism for stress. What happens the next time your character encounters a stressful situation? How do they resist reaching for their addictive substance if they haven’t learned other ways of coping? Do they trust or remember in the heat of the moment that they have other options? 

Do your research

Here are a couple of my go-to sites for reading up on addictions and treatments. 

Spirit Lake Wellness is a non-profit dedicated to educating the general public about health and wellness. They have a podcast, booklets, and a YouTube channel that covers a range of topics, including addiction. All information is available for free. I am fortunate to be on their board of directors and reached out to one of the doctors we work with for this article. 

The American Society of Addiction Medicine is another excellent resource for learning more about addiction and treatment. 

written by Kimberley Long-Ewing

[manicpixieyandere]

The Genius Of Not Labeling Jinx

The Messiness Of Labels

Jinx from Arcane is known as the poster girl for borderline personality disorder, but today we wanted to talk about some of the other conditions she has symptoms of (but doesn't necessarily qualify for) and why it was smart to not label her.

Let's go over the different conditions Jinx could have:

Of course first we have BPD. Not gonna spend too much time on this one but she hits all nine of the diagnostic criteria!

Schizophrenia:

Jinx is seen to hallucinate many times in the show. She gets visual hallucinations of her family she has guilt over killing. She experiences overlays of child like drawings. She has auditory hallucinations and delusions as well.

BPD can come with hallucinations and delusions but it tends to more often be auditory hallucinations and delusions of grandeur than anything else. Schizophrenia and bipolar are the conditions more likely to cause the type of psychosis Jinx experiences.

DID/OSDD:

An argument could also be made for Jinx nearing a dissociative disorder. We haven't seen much of the show from the season two trailers, but they do seem to be hinting at Jinx embracing Powder a bit more.

It is common in BPD for the person to believe they are a completely different person than their past self. We think this is well represented in characters like Spinel from Steven Universe or Ashley Graves (Leyley) from The Coffin of Andy and Leyley. This is of course also shown in Jinx with Powder.

But Jinx and Powder's differences go a bit beyond the typical BPD self image issues. Their personalities while similar, are quite different. And instead of Powder staying purely in the past, Jinx switches between the two personalities. You can see her face change to be more soft like Powder in certain scenes. (They quite literally transform her face).

Some other differences are; Jinx is represented by pink, while Powder tends to be blue. Jinx is left handed while Powder is right handed (she uses her left to shoot, right for other stuff). Jinx is the daughter of Silco, Powder is the daughter of Vander. Both are the child of Zaun.

Jinx is of course also known to dissociate in many scenes. (As a side detail we just love how well animated the face acting is).

While Jinx fits BPD best it is also important to note that comorbidity is a real thing. While rare, all three of these conditions can be had at the same time. Personality disorders and dissociative disorders especially tend to be comorbid.

The most likely reason Jinx isn't diagnosed with anything is stigma. Giving a terrorist a mental illness may come off a demonizing. But Jinx is still loved by the neurodivergent community because her symptoms and trauma are treated with care. She's a fun relatable character. But we think another genius reason is because she's all encompassing. Saying she has BPD may make anyone who doesn't have BPD immediately think "oh, well then I won't find her relatable". But in an age where fandom likes relatability and kins the most, you cannot afford that. Instead really any neurodivergent can see themselves in her.

This is both a smart strategy but also just an accurate portrayal of how real life ends up looking. Medical conditions are technically social constructs. That's not to say they aren't real, but that they are labeled by humans. It's a list of behaviors the body or brain executes. But humans are messy! Who's to say one person is gonna nearly fit into that BPD box? Eventually you get to a point where you have someone diagnosed with 10 or so mental conditions! (Hi yes it's us, we have been diagnosed with 10). Humans were not made to fit into boxes. You see this pattern with queer identities all the time as well. The creation of microlabels has greatly helped people categorize and understand themselves, but at the end of the day the most accurate label is: you. You are you. Insert name here is Insert name here.

Thanks for listening to the ramblings of a mad Jinx kinnie. Here's to hoping season two is just as good as the first one! Still absolutely loving Jinx's new look!

[rippersz]

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒕

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A Larissa Weems x F!Reader oneshot (for now) - Normie Reader experiences a very sudden heat for whatever reason and oh good lord Larissa is just so hot how can anyone expect you to work under these conditions… (NSFW: Vulgar, Breeding Kink, Shapeshifting Advantages, All that Jazz) (Larissa is just mentioned/imagined in this.) Am I sorry? Meh.

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There was just something in her that lit something in you.

A fire the likes of which you’d never encountered before. As though a flame was constantly flicked on beneath your heart, causing it to race, causing it to pound, causing it to bring the blood from your limbs up to your cheeks; painting you in a deep blush. Making you dizzy. Making you ache. Making you feel a type of delicious never-ending burn that seemed to spark the very moment you saw her.

Her.

Oh, her.

The same woman that made you realize that you wanted to become heavily acquainted with Lust and all of the friendly benefits it could offer. The very catalyst to your panic and your flush and the shake in your hands as you pressed yourself up against the wall of your shower and imagined it was her doing it instead. Oh how her hands would feel… how her touch would mold… how her teeth would graze and nibble and bite and gnash in ways that sent you spiraling. The muscles in her biceps flexing as she interlocked your hands and forced your arms up over your head, holding you to the chilled tile, making you shiver even if the water was hot.

It felt like the word ‘Please’ was on the very tip of your tongue whenever you passed her in the hall. ‘Please,’ you wanted to murmur to her one day, ‘Please, put me out of my misery and ruin me before I explode.’ Because that’s what it felt like, didn’t it? The strange pull in your bones, crawling up through your veins, invading your mind, it felt like you were being stretched taut and that no amount of self-assured pleasure could help release your tormented body. Explosion, at that point then, was imminent. And dangerous. You could barely concentrate on classes; you could barely pay attention to another person; you could barely think about anything other than her fingers… and her tongue… and those deep bottomless sapphire eyes - staring straight into your soul as you fell apart beneath her.

Some part of you told you that you were going through heat. That the very desperate natural human basic need for pleasure was just that - something a person experienced from time to time. Something that werewolves and cats and animals felt whenever that season came around. But you were a ‘normie’. You’d never felt that before… until Larissa Weems, of course. Until you sat down in a staff meeting one day and peered down at her painted nails and long tapered fingers and delicate hands, woven with blue veins and a wicked strength you’d never seen, and wondered what her index and middle finger would taste like when resting on your tongue. The thought still brought redness to your cheeks and drool to the inside of your mouth. It was just so terribly depraved. So desperate. So needy in a way that you wanted her to say- to tell you- to whisper in your ear while you whimpered into the warm skin of her shoulder.

‘Look at you… such a silly little thing… trembling all for me…’

All for you. All for her. All for Larissa, at all times, no matter what.

You knew that people were starting to worry about you and your actions - especially Larissa herself. She was your boss after all, she was supposed to pick up on any behavioral changes, and you had definitely changed. Without even knowing, you became far more introverted and spent more time alone than you ever had before. Though then again, most of that time was dedicated to taking care of the relentless throb between your thighs. Honestly, sometimes it got so strong that it interrupted your entire day and you had to find some way to ease the strange pangs before they got out of hand.

And you’d been doing a good job. Really, you had. You’d been taking the necessary moments to rid yourself of the feeling for at least a few hours before it came back - and that was enough. It was enough.

Until it wasn’t.

Until it began to hurt.

Until you realized that yes, indeed, you were somehow going through heat - and there was no one there to help you with it.

–

‘Good morning Larissa,

I just wanted to email you with a quick update and say that I, unfortunately, have fallen quite ill. I don’t think I’m equipped enough to handle my classes, and I’m very sorry for the inconvenience. Knowing this would get worse, I already printed out lesson plans and activities for my students. They’re all on my desk in my classroom.

Thank you - hopefully I get over this soon.

Y/N’

A quick email. That was good. You didn’t specify timing but that was fine. Your ‘heat’, for lack of a better word, had already been happening for about three weeks. If you were correct in your research, it wouldn’t be too much longer - perhaps a week or so more. Though in the long run, it would be a bigger pain in the ass than you expected. Already, your room smelled of sex and was so stuffy that you had to keep a window open constantly. And to get rid of the scent, you resorted to wall plug-ins and incense; they were the best you could think of on the fly. The rest of the issue - such as the air being far too hot - could only be remedied with a lack of clothing and many cold showers.

You supposed that was the best blessing during your time of strife- having an ensuite all to yourself. Staff were given the option to live on campus or live near Jericho, but you decided that ease of access was more important than living utterly alone. And, another plus that allowed you to let out a sigh of relief from time to time, was the fact that the teacher’s wing was very far from the students’. So any of the werewolves that wandered the halls wouldn’t smell you - as long as you stayed in your room. Thus, the email. And the isolation. And the constant worry that often came as an after-thought during your moments of… reprieve.

Even then, you truly felt you were going mad.

Tears often leaked from the corners of your eyes at night when you twisted around in bed, trying (and failing) to keep your hands from wandering about your body. You’d never experienced the phrase ‘instinctive’ to such an extent until that span of time where your searching fingers tip-tapped their way down the soft skin of your rounded tummy and found themselves drawing circles around your clit without thinking. Because it was all done without thinking. Even thinking was done without thinking.

Most of the time, your head was filled with thoughts of your boss. It was always Larissa. It was always Larissa and it was always her tall figure dwarfing your own, pushing you into a state of submission that you wanted to fall into anyway. She wouldn’t even have to try very hard - she wouldn’t even have to bend you over her lap and spank you red unless you came without her permission and she wouldn’t even- she-

‘Y/N,

I’m very sorry to hear you’ve fallen ill; please don’t worry about your classes as I can provide a substitute immediately. That being said, take as much time as you need to recover. I’ll stop by later today to chat briefly about the form you can fill out for an extended absence. Thank you for letting me know and I sincerely hope you feel better soon.

Larissa W.’

The ping of the email distracted you for a moment.

Good- that was good- your classes would be covered and you were ‘off the hook’. Great. Take as much time as you need mhm mhm… blah blah blah… stop by later today… mh-

Wait.

Wait, what?

You blinked, stared down at the lit up screen of your phone, and then blinked again.

She was… stopping… by? Later? On that day? When the clench in your abdomen was so strong that you were descending into sniffling sobs every two seconds? On that day, when you had just reached the point in which your fingers- the four you managed to fit and utilize- no longer got rid of the ache? On that day, when you were cursing yourself for never buying a fucking sex toy just for the Hell of it?

In your defense, you didn’t think you were ever going to descend into a spontaneous excruciating heat at any point in your life- but it didn’t really matter anyway.

Because whether you liked it or not, Larissa Weems, your boss, the headmistress of the Nevermore Academy for Outcasts, the main event of your wet dreams and sexual fantasies was going to stop by your room for a ‘brief chat’... and you hadn’t been clothed for three days. And your legs were trembling all the time. And the insides of your soft thighs were coated in slick constantly. And your skin was always overheated and sensitive and your voice was hoarse due to the amount of muffled screaming you pressed into the fabric of your pillow and your bed was very much unmade and your room smelled like a 24 hour sex dungeon and the blush on your cheeks had only increased tenfold by the time you sat up in your unmade bed, winced, and let out a whine.

Oh why had the Gods cursed you so?

Why had they placed a hex on your little human body and filled it with a libido that could only match the ferocity of dragons? Why did they force a potion of lust down your throat and place you in front of Larissa Weems and make you look at her with eyes of dark desire? Why did they place the image of her sloping hips and long legs and thick thighs in your mind and poison you with dreams that followed you into the waking world?

Why did you want her so badly?

Why did you yearn for her touch and why did you want her smell enveloping your body and why- oh god why- did you want to kiss her so often? Why did you want her to take care of you? Why did you want her of all people! to take you to bed and make you see stars? Why did you want red lipstick covering your skin and why did you want your face between her thighs and why did you want to feel her come apart beneath you? Why did she drive you wild? Why did she force you into a state of fluster that you could only pull yourself out of when you were alone?

Why did she plague you?

“I can’t do this…,” you suddenly confessed to no one in particular as you let out a sigh.

The fire had dulled to a simmer long enough for you to stand and slowly make your way to the bathroom.

Pain experienced during heat, you came to find, was far different than any other pain. It was like you felt empty - utterly disgustingly empty - and your body hated that. It rebelled. It made your abdomen, your fucking womb, feel hot. And after the heat, it began to ache. Like you were sitting on the edge of an orgasm and you needed that extra push- that extra kiss- that extra lick of praise- to send you tipping off the edge into an ocean of bliss…. But you couldn’t have it. The push, the kiss, the praise wasn’t there. Nor was the thrust of strong hips, or the scratch of fingernails, or the hissed growl of dominance in your ear. None of it. And your body knew that, so it made you clench and unclench constantly; and it punished you for your negligence and made your clit extra sensitive and your nipples hard and eager to be teased and your skin- oh your poor skin- was practically begging for someone to touch it. To mark it. To hold it and squeeze it and bite it and make it theirs.

Make it hers.

Goodness, you were pathetic. The fog that fell over your mind whenever you thought of Larissa was so hypnotizing that once your thoughts got going, they couldn’t stop.

‘Think of her,’ the strange lustful monster within you hissed, ‘Think of her and all of the sinful things she could do to you. Think of her hands pulling your hair, think of her warm thighs straddling your waist, think of her tongue running itself along your neck… and down your chest… and lower and lower… lower… pooling with drool and letting it drip-drop onto your cunt… licking at your clit…’

A whimper slipped past your lips as soon as you stepped into the water of your shower.

The heat was both soothing and torturous, doing you no favors as it instantly glazed the top of your mind; normally you’d prefer to make it cold to put a damper on your libido, but the need to get off yet again overpowered any lingerings of common sense.

But really, if you were being honest with yourself, there was no common sense during ‘heat’. At all. You figured that out rather quickly when, on the fourth day of wanting to be fucked mercilessly, you began entertaining thoughts of breeding. Of course you didn’t want a child. But the thought… the thought… of such warmth in you… filling what was always so painfully empty… of someone- of her- holding you down and breeding you full, growling that you were to be hers forever, was something that had you cumming in under five minutes. You simply couldn’t help it. And ever since that thought, it was as though you crossed into the dark side. All kinds of kinks and experiments filtered into your horny little brain, and all you could do to keep yourself from going crazy was to keep orgasming until your fingers could barely move.

It was the worst experience of your life…

…when you weren’t sitting on the built-in shower stool and thrusting three fingers into yourself, imagining Larissa watching you from beyond the glass. It was terrible except for when you pictured her telling you to go faster, to slow down, to take your fingers out completely and spread your folds wide so she could coo over how cute you looked when your cunt ached for her touch. It was maddening while you weren’t fantasizing about her stepping into the shower with you- all 6 feet, 3 inches of her- and threading her perfect hand in your hair and pressing you to her venus mound and making you kiss it until you came around your own fingers. Then making you stick your tongue out and look up at her as she slowly rolled her hips, coating you in a taste you knew you’d never ever get tired of.

Maybe even… oh god… maybe even shifting that part of herself and surprising you by sliding the head of her cock into your mouth and making you worship her until you forgot your own name. Running your eager tongue along the hot veins… peering up through your eyelashes as she slowly- slowly- craned her head back and let out a deep bone-shaking groan… Unable to help herself as she pushed you down just a bit more, slowly making that ‘pretty mouth of yours’ (as she called it) take as much of her as it could.

“There… yes, right there darling…” You could practically hear her words, as if she were with you, while your eyes rolled back and your other hand came up to rub furiously as your clit.

Unfortunately, even as you sat there and felt the prickling wave of heat wash over your body, clenching tightly around your own fingers while you orgasmed, you knew that it wouldn’t be enough. You knew that the water running down your face was mixed with frustrated tears. You knew that no climax you reached all by yourself would ever be able to properly satiate your body and every thing it was feeling. After all, a ‘normie’ was not supposed to experience ‘heat’ - and your mind was already so close to breaking all by itself.

It was just a shame that Larissa wasn’t there to snap it in half for you.

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This was just a quick exercise - I want to better my smut writing abilities. New updates soon and all that. Any thoughts on a Part 2? - Ripley x

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[soft-persephone]

A Fresh Start 1

Mother’s Milk x Fem!Reader

M // WC: 1.3k // warnings: eventual smut, potential descriptions of mild violence, but mostly fluff, mostly sweet, typical romcom shenanigans // masterlist

“I don’t wanna go to the party.”

You sucked in a breath, holding back a sigh of frustration.

“TT, you need to make friends.”

Life was not what it should be, especially when 8 year olds are worried about your social life and general well being.

“Momo, I’m an adult,” you started softly, mustering all the cool calm collected and comforting and safe space energy you could, “and I take care of you. Not the other way around.” You put a hand on her shoulder, sliding it up and down her back.

“Thank you for thinking about me and caring about me. I love you just as much.” You studied her, hoping you weren’t making anything worse, “but you don’t need to worry about me. There’s nothing to worry about. Go have fun with your friends and I’ll be here when you’re ready to go or the party ends. Deal?”

“Will you at least be on your best behavior?”

You sighed.

“Go play with your friends.”

“But I just—“

“Now, Mo.”

Kids. You shook your head and grabbed the tray of food you made per the list that was sent out.

“You made it!” One of the mom’s wrapped her arms around you. You did your best not to look as uncomfortable as you felt.

“Thank you for having me.” You smiled and gave her the tray.

“Uhm, Sweetie. . . What are these?”

“Pigs in a blanket. Slightly charred A grade beef sausages, the mini ones of course, wrapped in a croissant dough, dusted with a caramel Dijon mustard and pepper sauce.”

“They’re third graders.” Sheila blinked at you.

You pouted with a huff.

“They’re just pigs in a blanket!”

“Sheila stop giving her a hard time.”

“Hi, I’m Tracey.” She looked back to you with a smile.

You introduced yourself slowly to all the other parents.

“So you’re Monice’s mother?”

You squeezed your hand.

Of course they all knew. At this point who didn’t.

“Uhm,” you took a breath for courage, “I’m actually her Aunt. Her mother didn’t make it through the accident.”

That’s what you had to call it, but it was far from an accident. Your dead sister in law and your brother in critical condition in a comma is not what you call an accident. Especially, when the forces that caused it had enough power in the world to prevent it if they weren’t such careless fucks.

But you couldn't say that part out loud or you’d get sued.

Some people gasped and you wanted to shrivel up and disappear. You wanted everyone to stop looking at you like you were about to break because you were, but it’s hard to keep it all together or at least just look like it with so many eyes on you.

“How are you holding up through all this?”

“We’re uh, we’re good. Monice obviously needed some therapy after what happened, and she wouldn’t do it unless I did it with her, but I honestly needed it too.”

Someone had made you a plate.

The pasta salad was amazing and the ribs spectacular. It was good to be around your people. You ignored the growing ache of your family. You all had been in shambles since the accident. Your mother barely talked to anyone. Your father was angry, but somehow rather a calm in the eye of a storm. He was holding it together for everyone, but at his age, he did not need to be doing anything like that, and nothing you said calmed either of them down.

“And you’re doing this alone?” Someone chimed in with a hand over their heart.

“Well, I had a boyfriend, but I guess he,uh wasn’t ready. He basically said he couldn’t be there for me.” You realized that might sound harsh, so you continued in an effort to diffuse the reality of your words, “he took me on a date to this beautiful restaurant we loved.”

You smiled at the thought, fighting tears.

“It was all so nice. . . And then he just started talking about how emotionally draining being with me was. How he didn’t want to start living with a kid and change his whole life around. That he still wanted more time and that it was just too much for him.” You picked at the roll on your plate.

“I always thought I had more time too, but none of that matters. Momo’s entire life has been turned upside down and she doesn’t know if her father will ever come back into her life or not. She’s scared all the time.” Your voice cracked.

“And this past Monday I was on the phone with my therapist just opening up trying, just trying, to get to a good place so I can be there for Mo, but she overheard me say I Feel like I’m alone and drowning with everything and that I just want my big brother back and now she’s so worried about me being alone and always asking me about my friends not being there for me like they were before and I just—“

Fuck you didn’t mean to say all that. You don’t mean to cry.

“Should we?” Sheila looked at Tracey who only shook her head.

“Maybe you should talk to Marvin?”

That’s all everyone in this community says.

“I heard Monice used to go to a different school?”

You but your lip. Unsure what to say.

“She was suspended.” You said matter of factly.

“After everything she’s been through?” Tracey asked.

“Everyone experiences trauma different. I want to curl into a ball, stay in my bed, and cry all day.” You sighed at nothing in particular, “Momo gets angry. Other kids still love superheroes and she lives in a world where superheroes took her family away. Long story short I’m in an office and they're telling me she’s a bully and has to go because her behavior is unacceptable.”

“That can’t be right.”Sheila said, aghast. “She’s a little black girl. It must be some sort of a mistake. You know how they are when we aren’t perfect all the time and I heard it was a pretty prestigious school.”

“I’d love to believe that was the case, but it’s not. She owned up to it. Told me everything and now we have to face the consequences of our actions, so bye bye old school, old friends, and all the other stuff.”

Everyone kind of stared at you.

Fuck.

You said something wrong. Or you don’t look so heartbroken and beaten down and broken enough, Or was it your parenting?

It was probably all of it.

You got overwhelmed, you wanted to chill out, you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, but you got through it.

You looked out at the kids running around with large bubble wands and toys galore.

Momo seems to be having the grandest time with another little black girl. They chased each other with large bubbles, attempting to pop them on each other’s head.

She made a friend.

All of a sudden your shoulders were falling back and down into something relaxed. You were exhaling a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Were you that tense the whole time?

You shook your head and made your way to the desert table once more.

There were these croissant donut things or some type of pastry. It looked so good, but you couldn't tell which one you wanted most. Between the decadent looking chocolate and the mouthwatering matcha strawberry. You couldn’t tell which one might taste better.

You only wanted one.

“You must be related to Monice?” A rich deep voice interrupted you.

You slightly turn around to meet warm brown eyes and equally comforting dark skin.

Butterflies filled your stomach. You chased the feeling down by fiddling with your fingers, still looking at him so it doesn’t come off as awkward as you felt.

“What gave it away?”

“You both stick your tongue in your cheek and pout when you can’t decide between more than one thing.”

You huffed a laugh through your nose. Your eyes rolling dramatically around not sure what to look at.

“I do not pout.” You crossed your arms. “I’m not a child.

“Well you're acting like one.” He picked up both croissants with a napkin and placed them on two plates. He gingerly cut both in half with a knife and swapped one of the halves. “Here, now you can have both.”

You held out both your hands. Looking at the plate and back up to him.

“How-how?”

“What do we say?” He ignored you. Taking a step into your space, leaning down so his face was in yours and staring.

“Stop.” You laughed but he didn’t move.

“Ugh, fine.” You smacked your teeth. “Thank you.”

“I’ll take it, but you could sound more grateful.”

“Mm.” You grunted at him and took a bite of the matcha one first.

He followed as you sat on the edge of the patio to continue to watch the kids play outside.

“Why don’t you come back in with the rest of them?”

“You mean inside with the women?”

He gave you an unamused look.

“You know what I meant.”

“Well, they started playing fuck marry kill for the Vaught dummies.” You picked at the corner of your paper plate, “and I excitedly yelled kill Homelander before anyone could say anything.”

You expected him to empathize. Maybe even give you a: damn, that’s tough. In the way some black men talk when they can’t express emotions, but what you don’t expect him to do was laugh.

“It’s not funny.” You muttered into your chocolate pastry as you took a bite.

“What did they say?” He bellowed and put his hand on his stomach.

“Nothing!” You laughed as he wiped a tear. “And that’s what makes it worse. I sorta lied and said I had to go to the bathroom and I’ve been out here ever since.”

“Well it’s nice to not be the only one around here.”

“The only one around here what?”

He looked at you. Really, looked at you.

“Who hates Supes.” He said lowly, leaning in so no one walking by could hear you.

You didn’t say anything and took another bite of the matcha one. You winced and he sort of turned to you, extending a hand as if he was going to hurily fix whatever was wrong.

“It’s fine,” you explained with a lick of your lips, “the matcha one doesn’t taste as good when you take a bite of the chocolate one before it, “it took me by surprise.”

“Oh.. right.” He put his free hand back on his plate, taking the piece of matcha pastry and stuffing the whole thing in his mouth, making him look 30 years younger.

A really really big kid.

You wanted to tease him for it.

But instead you handed him a napkin.

He silently took it before popping his thumb in his mouth and placing it on your cheek. You held in a breath as he wiped it across the corner of your mouth.

“I—“ you started.

“bad habit. I have a—

“DADDY!!”

A little girl squealed and ran up to you both.

You held a hand over your eyes to block the setting sun.

The man you wished you had asked a name of did his best to discretely lean away from you without his daughter noticing how close you were.

His daughter didn’t notice, but Momo was studying his every move.

Fuck, how were you about to explain this? Or rather, what is it that she thinks she saw and were you about to have a conversation you did not want to have. . . How much did she see?

“This is my new friend Monice! She goes by Momo or Mo!” His daughter went on and on to her father about every little fact about Mo, filling you with absolute glee.

Kids had that effect on you.

Whatever they were feeling just filled you up to the tips of your toes on steroids. Whatever she was about to ask him for you hoped he said yes. Who could say no to her? Certainly not you, but other adults seemed immune by this supernatural power obtained by every child. How? You’d never know.

It was your kryptonite.

“Can she spend the night?”

“Or can she spend the night at my house TT?” Momo excitedly interjected.

You looked up at, Daddy from where you were sitting on the patio. He had his arms crossed in thought but as he looked down, you could feel him telling you to pull yourself together.

You bit the inside of your cheek whenever you were deciding how to parent.

“Maybe some other time when me and Mr. . .”

“Milk” He filled in for you.

“Can talk about it? Okay?”

“What she said Janine.” Was all Mr. M said.

Janine was about to open her mouth to say more, but Momo knew better and pulled her away with a sigh.

“I can never have anything!” She frantically exclaimed as she dragged her friend away.

“But we —“

“No. We can’t!” Momo yelled back just to make sure you heard her.

Kids.

“You let her act like that?”

You narrowed your eyes and bit back a smile.

“Like what?”

“Oh, you know what I’m talking about.” He stuffed the other pastry in his mouth and brushed his hands together to get rid of the excess crumbs, making sure they didn't hit his clothes, “you’re spoiled too.”

“What makes you say that.”

“Spoiled children raise spoiled children.” He said it matter of factly, like it was wise somehow, and pulled a wet wipe out of his pocket. He handed you one as well before neatly putting the packet back in his jacket pocket.

“Sounds really funny coming from you.” Was all you said in the same casual tone he used before, taking the wipe and cleaning the excess sugar and sticky residue from your hands.

“Oh yeah.” He challenged, crossing his arms.

A cheeky grin slowly formed on your face. .

“Not when your daughter is clearly a Daddy’s girl.”

“Let me stop you right there—“

“—Who clearly gets everything she wants and more from you.” You raised a finger to his chest and he leaned in letting it touch him.

You don’t realize how excited you had got. Your cheeks were puffy with tears from laughing and your chest heaving from raising your voice for so long.

“And you love it.” You added with a huff and parted lips.”

“Takes one to know one.” He huffed. Perfectly still and unaffected, a wall of calm, but you saw the twitch of his lip.

“Look who’s pouting now.” You smirked.

He pulled away from you with a smack of his teeth and a groan.

“You got lucky.”

You curled your feet in the grass before you. Taking in the sounds and sights around for the first time, letting them wash over you, truly enjoying them since the first turn you arrived.

You were lucky.

.

.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in next chapter:

@megamindsecretlair @nerdieforpedro @planetblaque @chaithetics @notapradagurl7

[scoutswritingcorner]

Heaven Says You Are In Danger

Lucifer Morningstar x GN!Reader

TW:HORROR AND DARK THEMES. Lucifer is not nice. He is mean and scary in this. You have been warned. Possessive behavior, talks about religion, choking, breaking bones. 

A/N: I WANT TO SAY I HAVE BEEN RESEARCHING ALL THIS CAUSE I  DONT KNOW SHIT. PLeASE BARE WITH ME. Once again a big thank you to my Lovely, @kurosstuff!!

You walked through the dark forest, flashlight in hand as you walked down the beaten path that mother nature was slowly reclaiming. The winds and rain started to pick up almost unnaturally which wasn’t your first concern. If you stayed out this much longer, your equipment was going to get soaked and there’s no use in having a backpack that was soaking wet weighing you down. You covered your eyes and looked around, allowing your flashlight to illuminate through the darkness easily. Your flashlight landed on an old broken statue of what looked like an angel, walking closer to it you noticed the lack of wings and how the statue almost seemed familiar but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Was that supposed to represent Archangel Michael?

You shook your head and followed the path behind the statue walking up to a door, you looked at it confused, your flashlight shining on the words, “Church of Saint Michael, guidance and Protection is around the corner.” You shook your head at the silly words but pushed open the heavy doors before making your way inside. You were being extra careful to close them behind you, so there were no chances of wolves or bears or whatever was in the woods could get you. You looked around the old church, expecting the roof to have holes and the place to be completely ransacked but everything to be seemingly in perfect condition. Well..everything except for the few pews that had been knocked down and a few sticks had made its way inside. You slowly walked around the place making sure there were no animals or surprises waiting for you before you even settled down for the night.

After making sure everything was cleared you put your bag down and go through it to find warmer clothes and your supplies to at least start a fire. There was nothing to be afraid about changing into different clothes in a church- especially an empty church at that but you hide behind a pillar just to calm your anxious mind, as you pulled your soaking wet shirt over your head that’s when you heard it, the smooth yet deep voice sent a thousand razor sharp pricks down your spine and caused you to freeze up. “Changing in the middle of Church?” It echoed around the church causing you to grab your flashlight and flash it around the empty room, one arm covering your chest as you tried to calm yourself but you didn’t see anyone else. You held the flashlight in your mouth as you put the new shirt on, it was your imagination right? You were anxious and it was your mind playing a trick on you.

You walked around once more and checked between every pew whilst collecting all of the random twigs and sticks you could, sitting down in front of your bag you started to collect the sticks in a small bundle before you, searching around for the firestarter and kindling, did you forget it in your car? The same car that was a two day hike from this location? You growled and grabbed your flashlight to look around thinking you had misplaced it but as you got up a soft thud hit the floor before the firestarter slid across the floor. You watched it and started to feel your hands tremble, your gaze snapped up to see a pair of eyes watching you as you slowly moved the flashlight on the walls but you couldn’t manage to fully shine the light on whatever that thing was, you were so fucking scared. 

“Go on Little Lamb..get warm for me. You wanted to seek salvation from the rain and you’ve found it..do not be afraid. I’m simply..watching.”  The voice called out, you couldn’t move towards the firestarter, why was it paralyzing you? “oh..my poor lamb frozen in fear..it’s okay, I don’t bite. Go on, take it. I found it just for you.” You swallowed down the fear and anxiety that was telling you to just run out of there. Slowly crouching down you reached over, grabbing the firestarter and quickly lighting the small campfire you made trying to ignore how the eyes watched you from the darkness. Come morning, you’d be out of here. Just focus on warming up. “Don’t ignore me, Little Lamb…come on can I not hear your voice?” You gulped and shook your head moving to lay your soaking wet clothes around the growing fire. “Such a shame..maybe I can figure it out in other ways.”  The voice cooed out before the eyes disappeared completely leaving you alone in the darkness.

You sit in silence for what felt like hours before you gulped down any fear, “Who are you? You can’t be Saint Michael..or God..” You called out into the darkness afraid of what would happen next. “Who am I?”  The voice called out as footsteps echoed around you before a singular apple rolled in front of you, “..Do you have any guesses?”  You stared at the apple for a moment racking your brain before it hit you, “Seems like you figured it out, Little Lamb. Say it. Say. My. Name.” The voice hissed out as your mouth went dry, your heart hitting your chest and with every breath you took it felt suffocating. “You’re…Lucifer.” You watched as the fire went out and clawed hands grabbed your throat pushing you down onto the ground. Flashlight flickering as a dark chuckle left his lips, sharp teeth on full display as you got a good look at his face.

The pale skin, the rosy red cheeks, the way his golden eyes glowed in the darkness. “Such a smart lamb you are. You’re cuter up close too..maybe I should drag you down into hell with me and make you all mine. My little human..my lamb.” He growled out his snake like tongue licking at the rows of fangs as he started to slowly squeeze your neck. You gasped and teared up, this is not how you wanted to die. “Oh no more tears, Lamb..you're safe here with me..God can’t save you now..he doesn’t care to listen.” You closed your eyes before the suffocating squeeze of his hands around your neck disappeared and he cradled your face, softly cooing at you. Like he wasn’t just choking you out five seconds ago, his face unnaturally close to yours. He smelled like a campfire and..apple cinnamon? Well apples were-..are his thing. 

“What do you want from me?” You sobbed out flinching from how close his sharp talon-like nails were close to your eyes. He clicked his tongue and held your head still in his iron-like grip, you couldn’t fight him off if you tried. “I think you already know what I want, Lamb..I want you to worship me like you worship God and I promise..not to lead you astray, my own little Bishop.” He cooed out his soft voice giving you a sense of comfort yet a part of you yelled to fight back, claw at his eyes and run out of the church. Those eyes couldn’t be trusted, not when they are looking past you..deep into your soul. You clenched your jaw, his thumbs soothingly rubbing at your jawline unconsciously making you slowly unclench your jaw, “All I need is an answer, Lamb and I’ll make your dreams come true..even the ones that you're pushing away from the forefront of your mind..” You felt your face heat up at that but let out a calming breath as you tried to ignore how his soft voice sent shivers down your spine as you opened your mouth watching his eyes light up in glee as you whispered out a soft, “..yes..” His red pupils dilated even more as he stared down at you, like he had just won one last prize.

“Good..Now there is one last thing for you to do for me, little lamb. You think you can handle that?” His thumbs moved down to force your lips into a smile as he chuckled as he looked down at you..was he undressing you with his eyes? The thought sparked something aflame deep inside of you as you watched as bright red horns protruded from his head. You blinked and tried to look away but found it harder than it seemed, your eyes kept drifting back to his. Allowing your eyes to finally get used to the darkness surrounding you both, as you got a good look at him your eyes widened in horror as your heart threatened to beat out of your chest. He was too perfect.

He was the first fallen angel, it was to be suspected. It was too much, you needed to run. Forget everything in this place and run, in a flash you had snagged the flashlight and smashed it across his head, easily backing up as you tried to escape. The flashlight immediately shattered as glowing golden blood dripped down onto the floor below, a loud shaking snarl echoed through the chamber. Scrambling to your feet you tried to beeline it for the doors but suddenly a fallen pew moved slamming into your legs and making you fall face first onto the stone floor. A sickening crack filled the air before your senses were filled with the familiar metallic taste of your own blood. 

You coughed and spit out the blood whimpering before you felt two clawed hands wrap around your ankles and pull you back closer to him. “Now now, Little Lamb. There is no reason to be attacking your God.” He snarled out easily snapping one of your ankles in half, his smile growing as he heard your sobs and screams. “You aren’t my god.” You replied between tears before his clawed hands wrapped around your neck squeezing easily cutting off your oxygen. “I am and you will obey me as such. He won’t listen to you. I will. Think about it, Lamb.” He let go of your neck allowing you to gasp and choke for air, sobbing out as you tried to claw away pathetically. 

“What is it that you want, Lamb? Do you not want to be my Bishop..do you not want to worship me?” He pulled you back towards him, “I want to go home- please..I just want to go home.” You laid your head on your arms, you could feel your own sanity slipping. The whispers in your head got louder, you could just let go..he’d take care of you right? He promised you. “But you are home, Lamb..” He purred out and easily pulled you to sit up onto his lap, “You are my Bishop..my sole worshiper and I take care of my people.” His lips brushed against your ear as one of his hands cupped your jaw, he could sense your doubt and he hated it. 

“Tell me…does your god listen to you when you call for him?” He asked, watching as you sobbed out shaking your head, making him click his tongue in thought, his eyes scanning your blood and tear stained face. “But I will..I’ll listen to your every whim and desire..to your plea for a better life. All you have to do for me, Lamb..is..submit. Tell me your mine, my favorite little Bishop.”  His hand tilted your face towards him, “I will never ignore you..never throw you to the side like that FALSE idol has, my sweet lamb.” You had stopped crying by now, hands shakily clinging to his arms, “Just..give in, Little Lamb.” His voice sent a shiver down your spine as you slowly nodded at his words, his thumb rubbing your bottom lip.

“Now..one last test for you, Lamb..are you ready?” He asked as you stared up into those golden eyes, those perfect golden eyes that felt like you were staring into hell itself. “Let me have one taste, Lamb..”  You looked at him confused, raising your head up towards him as his serpentine tongue licked at his teeth. Oh..Oh..that kind of tasting.

A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger. I might do a part two where it’s just smut but I wanted to make this part purely horror esque. Let me know if you guys want a part two.

[httpskuzuu]

Softer

hola :D fyodor is alive - fyodor esta vivo I was thinking about making a masterlist or something like that, I don't know if when I upload this I will have it published or how I will do it

anyway, I really liked this and enjoyed writing it, it's longer than I usually post but Idk, by the way, I hated translating this, it was a pain in the ass, but that's what I get for joining a mostly English community ññññññññññññ-- well, this is mostly inspired by Sinner by TheBloodySadist, you can find it in Ao3 if you want to read it, I had an obsession with it a few months xd

jaja this has gone on too long, well, adiós adiós :p

Yandere!Fyodor x Reader

English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakes

sumary: You tried to escape and now you have to take the consequences, but you make something change in Fyodor... (juju, mistery >:p) Pt.2

tw: yandere behavior, kidnapping, failed escape attempt, explicit punishment, explicit violence, blood, broken bones, humiliation¿, manipulation, brainwashing, stockholm syndrome, reader needs therapy, stabbing, nudity, sedative, Fyodor is a fucking tw

You tremble under the weight of the boot on your ribs, you swear that at some point you hear them cracking along with an agonizing pain throughout your body.

The pressure on your body makes it impossible for you to breathe properly, which is a serious problem considering you are hyperventilating. Every breath burns your exhausted lungs and aggravates the pain.

You'd ask Fyodor to kill you already if it weren't for the fact that your throat is in a terrible condition from so much screaming and pleading.

"Well, I see I can't trust you, can I?" Despite the situation, Fyodor's tone provokes you inner anger, sounding so sarcastic. Something deep inside you tells you it's not sarcasm, it's concern, but you can't believe it, especially not coming from Fyodor.

You imagine that, if you had the strength at this moment, you would kill him with your own hands. You know well you wouldn't be able to, but it's pleasant to think about it.

"I do everything for you, and still you try to escape." He puts more pressure against your ribs and you've never felt as much pain as you do now. "You spoiled brat." He growls and his Russian accent becomes much thicker.

He removes his foot from your body and you can breathe. Relief courses through your veins and, out of pure instinct, you thank him for that act of kindness. He could have stretched it out longer, put more pressure on you and broken your ribs more, but he was merciful and gave you a break…. A break, you know that your punishment is not yet over.

You don't know yourself and your thoughts. One thing you have to hand it to Fyodor is that his training is really effective, but you're tougher than that, or at least you like to think so. Realistically, right now, you just want to curl up against him.

A kick in the side snaps you out of your thoughts, you moan and cry from the pain, your throat burning with fire. You never want to utter a sound again in your life after this.

"Aw, you poor thing… Does it hurt? Now you know how I feel every time you leave me." He's lying, you know that, but that doesn't take away the guilt that settles in your head free-form.

You shouldn't have run away, Fyodor isn't even that bad if you behaved: no gratuitous physical harm and he takes better care of you than you could ask of a kidnapper. You were an idiot, you deserved all this for not appreciating your life with Fyodor properly. God… Why did you try to escape in the first place? The Russian would always would catch you, you were just causing trouble.

Ignoring your destroyed throat, you decide to speak. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I won't try to escape again. Please give me another chance, I'll be good…"

Fyodor kneels down next to your agonized body. He puts his hand against your tear-stained cheek, at first you flinch, thinking he was going to hurt you more, but then you lean almost automatically against his cold hand.

You cry harder as you feel Fyodor's gentle touch, you don't quite understand what's wrong with you, you just know that you want to melt against his hand. You close your eyes and tremble. You want a hug from him, you know you shouldn't want that, that it's disgusting, he kidnapped you and hurt you, but at a time like this, when you've been disobedient, he's still showing you affection….

"Shh, it's okay, милый." He catches the falling tears with his thumb. "I know you're sorry, but your punishment isn't over yet." You automatically tense up and slowly open your eyes to look at the man in front of you, there is a smirk of superiority painted on his face, observing your pathetic appearance.

You don't dare open your mouth to complain because deep down you know very well that you deserve it, you deserve the pain for being so bratty and causing inconvenience to Fyodor. You accept what lies ahead of you and let Fyodor pull his hand away from you.

With his grip firmly on your hip, he guides you to turn around. You keep the cheek that was previously receiving the loving touch against the ground a thousand times colder than Fyodor.

You concentrate exclusively on the Russian's hands, it's just an idiotic attempt to ignore the pain all over your body. He pulls up your shirt, leaving your back bare against the cold, why is everything so cold all of a sudden? Fyodor is too, in a way he brings you peace of mind, it's like he's everywhere, even in the air…. What the hell are you thinking? You firmly believe you're delusional at this point, these are not your real thoughts, it's clear to you, he put all these idiotic ideas in your head and now you can't get them out. It's agonizing in a certain way.

The only thing you hear is your irregular breathing, if it wasn't for Fyodor's hand clamped on your hip, you would think you were alone right now, and you don't know if you would like that more or less.

Something sharpening presses against your upper back. Everything breaks down in a moment as Fyodor makes a straight cut across your entire back. It hurts horrendously, especially as the blood starts to spurt out. You start to feel dizzy and for a few moments you convince yourself you're going to pass out, but no, your body is still holding on, focused solely on Fyodor's hand.

"Breathe, моя любовь. It's just a cut." You repeat Fyodor's last sentence in your head like a mantra: it's just a cut, it's just a cut. He could have done it much worse to you, you were fine, just a cut.

You take comfort in closing your eyes hard and imagining that you are once again a child at the doctor's office, that you are simply having blood drawn for a blood test because you have not been feeling very well lately. You make a fist with your hand and clench it, digging your fingernails deep into your palm, it's as if you are clutching the hand of one of your parents for comfort. There is no more pain, it's okay, it's all right-

Another cut, this time horizontal, creates a cross on your back. You don't care, you're at the hospital, and you're safe, nothing will happen to you. It's just a cut.

Fyodor stabs the weapon into your side. You open your eyes wide as a torn scream comes out of your mouth.

Fuck it all, do you really deserve this? Have you been so horrible? You assume that Fyodor simply hates you, that he wants to torture you.

Fyodor pulls the weapon out of your body, you look out of the corner of your eye and the wound doesn't seem to be that bad, you thought it was deeper because of the pain, but no, it was something apparently superficial. You didn't want to know how much it would hurt if he had really stabbed you deeper.

Fyodor's voice right next to your ear startles you. "Sorry, was that too much? Did I hurt my little one too much?" That mocking tone again, but you hear a hint of love and concern, or so you assume. No, it's impossible for Fyodor to hate you, if he hated you there wasn't that hint of love, was there? If he hated you, he wouldn't say to you like that: my little one, his little one.

"I can't take it anymore! Please, Fyodor!" He leaves a chaste kiss on the back of your neck, and you cry disconsolately, you don't know why, but you do know it's not because of the pain, the pain doesn't matter anymore.

"You can." Fyodor's voice is the ultimate authority right now, and if he says you can take it, it's because you can. "You don't want to disappoint me, do you?"

After those words you instantly panic, you desperately shake your head, of course you don't want to disappoint him! You have to accept your punishment, it was your fault in the first place.

"Brace yourself, dear." Fyodor leaves a trail of kisses from the nape of your neck all the way down your back, above the vertical cut. You assume he's filled his lips with blood and hate yourself at the thought of how attractive he'd look like that.

A new cut interrupts your hatred. You scream, but nothing more, you can take it, for Fyodor….

It's just one cut.

You don't know how many cuts there are next, you are not able to count them. You don't feel your throat anymore, but miraculously it still works, your screams are still coming out of it, you are relieved because you still want to keep your voice to talk to Fyodor, to ask him to hold you.

Fyodor removes your shirt completely and lays it aside on the floor. He holds you firmly and helps you sit up, any movement is hell for your ribs, but you endure it by concentrating on your kidnapper, on his loving but steadfast touch.

You look at him dizzy, teary-eyed and shattered. He is smiling, you have not disappointed him. Your head hurts as you cry disconsolately against his chest again.

"What's wrong? Why are you crying now? Your punishment is over, I won't hurt you anymore."

"You…" You're unable to speak, it's too much at once, the pain and your thoughts coming together in a ball of discomfort. You shake your head and hug him tightly.

"Are you afraid?" You weakly shake your head. It's true that Fyodor scares you, especially on these occasions when he punishes you, but you're not crying about it now.

Funny, you don't know why you're crying, but you do know what you're not crying about.

Fyodor is silent, thinking about why you're crying. "Is it about the pain?" You deny again.

Fyodor hums thoughtfully. "If you don't tell me what it is, I can't help you." You ponder on that: does he want to help you? Is he serious?

You make the feeble attempt to gather your thoughts and speak. "It's just- I don't know" Your voice comes out shakier than you wish it would. "When you touch me… It feels so good, I don't deserve it, I don't-"

"Oh, I see… Aren't you crying because of something bad? Is it because it feels good?" You nod quickly, yes, that's as close as you feel. You're happy when it touches you, when it's good to you. Were you crying out of happiness? Well, you guess so, although it feels more depressing.

"It's okay, relax." He leaves a kiss in front, and it breaks you inside. "You've taken the punishment very well, come on, you deserve to be taken care of."

The process of getting up from the floor is horrible, not only because of the pain all over your body and your numb legs, but because your mind doesn't stop spinning around Fyodor's last sentence. It feels horrible and so good at the same time that your mind is only around one specific person.

He helps you up and you let him lean your useless body against his. He guides you through the house, being patient with your slow pace. He's mostly silent, except when he tells you how well you're doing or that not long to go. Since when did Fyodor know how to talk so pleasantly?

You reach the bathroom, he sits you on the toilet and turns on the bathtub faucet. While it is filling, Fyodor takes some pills out of a drawer that you have always found locked. You don't know what the pills are or what they're for, but he hands you one and you take it without question.

You let your head fall against Fyodor's stomach, even though he is standing upright he doesn't move an inch and lets you be comfortable, he strokes your hair and you sigh lovingly. You don't deserve it, but you need more of this Fyodor, the soft Fyodor who takes care of you and makes you feel good, what did you have to do in the future to keep it in this shape? If you need to be damaged for that, well, you are willing to do it.

"The tub is full." He warns and moves a little away from you, causing you to raise your head. You miss a little that he's touching you, even though he's only been separated of you for three seconds. He holds you under your armpits and helps you up. "I need you to stand up on your own, can you, дорогой?"

You try not to focus so much on Fyodor asking you if you could do it instead of just sending you the order, and focus on standing on your own.

The Russian undresses you completely, his hands are soft, and you feel them all over your body. They are so cold, and you are so cold too now that you are naked. You are vulnerable, now more than ever, and Fyodor's fixed gaze on you disturbs you. You are simply an easy prey to hunt, his prey.

He doesn't look like a hunter now, as much as his gaze is like knives stabbing through every spot he focuses on, you think he's not doing it on purpose. Fyodor doesn't know how to be nice, he never has. He knows how to be neutral: he can keep you alive and give you necessities, but he can't kiss you and keep you warm.

But there's something wrong with all this, he's being warm because since when are his hands so soft against your battered body? You need him, you need him so much it hurts, is this his way of being nice? Okay, fine, you accept it without complaint.

When he puts you in the tub you want to die, the cuts on your back burn at the contact of the water. You don't dare say a word at that or ask Fyodor to pull you out, you're afraid you'll upset him, that he'll get tired of you being so weak and whiny and stop being gentle. Fyodor could have left you lying on the cold floor, bleeding, but he didn't. You can't be an unbearable child to him.

The Russian starts washing your body, putting special emphasis on your cuts and the wound on your side. You look at his serious face with need, why were you only now realizing how handsome he was? Mmmh, you must have been blind before. He notices obviously your shy look on his lips and he smiles, that smile indicating that he was superior to you and despite that, he was still keeping you alive and forgiving of everything you did.

He approaches you and gives you the only thing you needed to be satisfied for today: a kiss. It reminds you of all the good things, strangely enough in those memories Fyodor also appears and disturbs you minimally.

You question yourself that, maybe, Fyodor does know how to be gentle.

This is the proof you need to know that now this was a new version, right? He kissed you. You feel a warmth spreading throughout your body, now it is warm, and his hands are warm too. There is a big change in temperature and it feels like heaven.

After that, Fyodor continued to wash you with special care, ignoring how your face might explode from how red it was.

The only thing that could crush the heat was tiredness, you almost fell asleep a couple of times, but you didn't want to fall asleep because it would be like wasting time with this soft Fyodor, what if tomorrow he returned to his serious and impassive face? You can't waste this time or you would regret it.

"Go to sleep, take it easy. I'll take you to bed when I'm finished." You looked at him as the most merciful being in the world. He cared about you…

You hold back your sobs for these acts of kindness, you don't want to cry anymore, not only to avoid possible discomfort in Fyodor, but for yourself, the headache is unbearable.

You let yourself fall asleep, with your head supported on your knees and Fyodor's soothing touch.

You had a nightmare which you don't remember, or don't want to remember. You wake up with your body held in Fyodor's arms, warm and gentle.

Since when did everything become so homey? Homey? Would that be the right word? Describing any situation involving Fyodor with that word doesn't feel natural to you.

You find it hard to feel your body, and your thoughts don't flow as quickly and aggressively as they used to. It's like being enveloped in a cloud, full of comfort and calmness.

You just feel something on your side, at the site of the shallow stab wound. You think maybe it's some bandage, but your limbs are asleep and too comfortable against Fyodor to move them to check. Otherwise, you feel nothing, only someone else's hand on your lower belly, it's extremely intimate in your perspective.

You turn your sleepy head and glance sideways at Fyodor. He seems calm, looking at you, his face is emotionless again and it scares you. You come to convince yourself that he is still the soft Fyodor, if he wasn't his hand wouldn't be on you, he still hasn't changed, you repeat that to yourself until you believe it.

"… Fyodor, do you know what?" Your voice comes out weak and hoarse, you wonder how soon your throat will heal. You're thankful you can't feel it well, so there's no pain anymore.

"Mmmh?"

"I think I love you."

"Do you?" There is a change, minuscule, but a change.

You nod and look away from his face, you can't stand it, no. There has been a change, you don't know in what. There's been a change, a change! Is it good or bad? You want to think it's a nice thing.

"You're different."

"I am? In what way?"

"You're softer, something nice."

"You're drugged, you don't talk sense."

"But you're different! Seriously, you never take care of me."

Silence rules the room and it hurts. Why did you talk? What idiocy, it's your fault everything that happens now, all your fault.

"You cried with happiness when I helped you sit up." Your gaze returns to the other.

"I know, so what? You want me to cry again?" There are no bad intentions behind your comment, there really aren't. You feel your brain empty, and you can't quite interpret the situation, what is Fyodor trying to tell you? Is he angry? Is he going to punish you again? It's exhausting to use your brain in this state, so you just give up and go with the flow.

"No, I don't want that." The silence stretches a little longer and, for just a few seconds, Fyodor looks away. He looks away. "I just… I thought maybe you'd be happier if I treated you good."

"Ah…" He wanted you to be happy? Really?

"I know I hurt you, but you know I only do it when you deserve it, don't you?" You nod and the cuts on your back burn for a few seconds. "Good. I really want you to be happy, with me."

You feel like at any moment the old Fyodor will appear through the door and say something like it was all a test, and then punish you for failing it. It's a horrible feeling, but you come to believe that it will seriously pass.

"So… Are you still going to be soft?"

"Yes, only if you are obedient in return."

Yes, yes, yes. He's going to keep being gentle. For some reason your chest hurts, and you sob, Fyodor has a few drops of surprise in his expression. You hide from his gaze and just focus on the yes, it's like releasing a horrible burden out of your body. You weren't afraid he was lying, something told you he wasn't, his expression maybe, or his voice, or….

"Are you crying with happiness now too?"

"I like the soft Fyodor…"

"Mmmh, that's good, isn't it?" He pulls you a little closer to his face and leaves a soft kiss on your forehead. You'd like to kiss him in return, but you can't move. "I'll keep being soft then."

I swear all I could think about while writing this was to to send it all to hell and make these two fuck

maybe I will make a second part

[octopus-punching-union]

Subaru Kagami headcanons

(some spoilers for Hotarubi chapter)

kind of a foodie

Has never thought of himself like that and would deny it if you ever pointed it out

"But of course I spend hours thinking about what snacks and tea my friends would like. It's just part of being a gracious host"

He doesn't really cook, though. If he tried, he could follow a recipe competently, but he would never serve a guest anything less than perfect. And cooking just for himself is a lot of effort and he's not very good at doing nice things for himself. (He has just hot water for breakfast??! Not even tea or coffee??)

He remembers his friends' favorites and makes sure he always has something they like on hand

(don't think about him being alone after the Clash and trying to figure out what to do with his stash of Zenji's favorite things)

On a lighter note. He was checking out Sho's food truck the instant it appeared on campus — he totally went to the mystery diner exactly once when it first opened. Like, even before Ren got hired, when it was just the anomalies working there. It was extremely awkward (he had so many questions and the anomalies can't talk), but he was polite and has never gone back. He doesn't even like to walk past the diner anymore because he feels so awkward about it.

sensory issues

Since he picks up residual memories from just about everything he touches, Subaru is very intentional about everything he buys — especially clothes that are touching his skin all day

Given all the issues with working conditions in the production of clothing, he has a hard time buying clothes and needs to touch everything. There are probably a few students in Hotarubi who are really passionate about sewing, knitting, or other textile crafts, and he goes to them whenever possible.

He puts so much work into helping you pick out a yukata for the summer festivals. He's anxious about taking up too much of your time, so he'll go beforehand so that he can take his time touching everything. He wants it to be perfect and to suit you in every way.

childhood / "rebellion"

Gifted kid burnout x 1000. Subaru has been working since he was four years old and his family is a big deal — he's been in the public eye since he was very young and always had to be on his best behavior because someone was always watching. (No wonder he has anxiety...)

So like, a lot of people who had a strict upbringing kinda go off the rails as soon as they get a little bit of freedom. But to (formal, reserved, self-conscious) Subaru, "subversive" means things like: 1) being a normal student at a normal school (not actually normal at all), 2) lying about the true nature of his stigma so that he won't be ostracized by his peers, and 3) advocating, through the proper channels, for his werewolf bff to be released from prison.

He feels like he's in his rebellious phase right now though, and that's what matters. Plenty of ordinary things feel thrilling just because he was never allowed to do them. Just being around people his own age is exciting! He's never had friends before.

(Ever since he was little, school always took backseat to his kabuki career. Now he's at the top of his class! He's so good at rebelling, guys 🥲)

He is (very slowly) learning to relax and be less formal. Zenji's death really affected him, and he doesn't seem totally comfortable around Haku. I'm really hoping Sho will help him to feel more confident and free!Lyca will cause problems and help him loosen up a little.

I really want him to go on a motorcycle ride with Sho at some point. I ship it think it would be cute. He would over-apologize for being nervous and clingy and Sho wouldn't even clock it as a big deal.

as your boyfriend

No matter what you do, your relationship will be a really slow burn. He's hesitant, afraid of doing something wrong, and genuinely doesn't understand why you would want him. You'll have to be the one pursuing him. (But, if you're patient, your relationship completely changes as he becomes more comfortable and confident.)

He loathes his stigma. It means you'll never have privacy from him, and at first he thinks you haven't considered the extent of it. Of course you'll change your mind, he thinks, once you realize it's constant and unending. He thinks of his affection and desire as an imposition that you'll find offputting, at best.

(Besides, there are plenty of people who would be better suited to being your partner, he thinks. Haku is so relaxed and has no problem joking around with you. Zenji is passionate and unafraid to express his admiration for you. In comparison, Subaru feels quiet and awkward and unable to talk about how he truly feels.)

He can't control what he sees with his stigma. It's frequently innocuous, but when he sees something painful or heavy, he feels that he's betraying you. Because you didn't choose to entrust him with those memories.

So when he accidentally sees something heavier, he'll share one of his secrets in return. He wants you to feel safe being vulnerable with him in this way.

(but sometimes, when you're asleep next to him and he's feeling particularly anxious or insecure, he might touch you hoping to see any reassurance that you're happy with him. He trusts you, he really does, but what if he's not good enough? What if you're only pretending to be happy to spare his feelings? He always feels like shit afterwards.)

Because of all this, he's really uncomfortable with physical affection at first. He feels a lot of guilt for wanting to be closer and wanting to touch you, and he worries that you'll think he's creepy or trying to dig through your past. His affection is sporadic, as he spends a lot of time worrying and mentally preparing.

Also, like. He sends a two paragraph text message full of pre-emptive apologies just to ask you to get lunch. He's going to be that stressed about all of your firsts.

Before asking you to be intimate for the first time, he'll wait until he's so pent up that he can't stand it, then he'll feel really awkward about asking. Because what if you don't want him? What if he's pressuring you just by asking? It's ok if you don't want to, he assures you, and he's so relieved when you say yes.

Not at all a fan of PDA. He'll sit closer to you when you're hanging out with the other ghouls. He might hold your hand if he thinks no one's paying attention. I think he would be clingy when really drunk, but then upon sobering up would be so embarrassed if anyone else witnessed it. (Haku would like gently tease him about it and he would be dying inside.)

He expresses his affection more often with food and gifts — nothing extravagant, just little things to show that he's thinking of you. He wants to spend a lot of time with you, even if he seems distant. Some of his more formal mannerisms with always be there, not because he's uncomfortable or trying to distance himself, but as a way of showing how much he respects and cares for you.

Over time, you become someone he can relax with, someone he feels secure around. He'll always hesitate for a moment before touching you, giving you a chance to move away, but he doesn't feel the crushing guilt anymore.

(he still doesn't eat breakfast, but it's because he would rather stay in bed with you in the quiet of the early morning. It helps him calm and center himself before getting up for the day.)

He wants a peaceful life with you, unremarkable except for the love that you share.

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

Do you think Valentino from Hazbin is a sociopath?

I would like to preface all my posts on headcanons related to psychology and mental illness with a disclaimer: diagnosing mental conditions, especially personality disorders, can be extremely challenging. It's a complicated process that relies heavily on a psychologist's interpretation of facts, making it susceptible to biases. Personality disorders cannot be diagnosed based on surface-level observations and are not just labels that we can assign to people like in the case of MBTI. Additionally, I am not a clinician with any expertise in diagnosing people. Therefore, the following post should not be taken as a reliable professional opinion. It's simply my interpretation of the internal mechanisms that may be responsible for the behavior of certain characters in my fan fiction. Furthermore, I want to make it clear that I have no intention of stigmatizing people with personality disorders by associating them with villains. A personality disorder does not determine someone's character or make them a bad person. Some characters may be evil because of the choices they make, not as a result of their mental conditions.

I don't think he has an antisocial personality disorder. I can categorize him as a man with borderline personality disorder with antisocial tendencies (generally men with BPD are quite likely to exhibit APD traits).

Why do I interpret his behavior as BPD:

❤️ mood swings and incoherent personality. Like he's a completely different person with Vox and with Angel. Duh, even during his one scene with Vox his whole attitude did 180° in seconds.

❤️ hardcore abandonment issues. It makes him act out to get Vox's attention. And he hates Angel so much not because of pure sadism, but because he used to love him (well, at least he interpreted his feelings as love). As he became more and more toxic and after Angel finally tried to stand up for himself, Valentino felt so terribly rejected and betrayed that he immediately started hating him.

❤️ there's this thing called splitting and it means that people with BPD perceive others very binary, as either good or bad. There's nothing between love and hate and those emotions can change rapidly. So yeah imo he occasionally "loves" Angel and that's why he hasn't killed him yet but at the same time he proceeds to abuse him so terribly (I can't buy the "you make me money" excuse, no amount of money would matter if he really wanted to kill him. And I don't believe he keeps him alive just to torture him, Angel's behavior causes him too much stress. Like, he cares so much.).

❤️ Things common for men with BPD are substance abuse (overlord of drugs, duh), aggressive behaviors, and violent tendencies (I don't think I need to provide you with an example)

❤️ General high novelty seeking. It essentially means looking for stimuli to feel anything and just fill horrifying emotional emptiness (in the case of BPD; novelty-seeking is also a trait of perfectly healthy people that differs individually). I connect this novelty-seeking thing to him being an overlord of depravity, he loves perversion for the sake of perversion because everything extreme he does or witnesses makes him feel things again. And he bores very quickly so he has to constantly push boundaries further.

❤️ Autodestructive tendencies. We don't see them in the text, I just assume they are there. Again - drugs, unsafe sex, and (according to my headcanons) involvement in violent and irresponsible "BDSM" (I put it in a quotation because BDSM to be BDSM must be safe and based on informed consent, trust and good communication) which is essentially using Vox' sadism to inflict harm on himself. He rather do it using someone else's hands because he perceives this desire to self-harm as a weakness but at the same time, can't resist it.

Vox hc | Velvette hc | Vees + Angel hc

[zoeykallus]

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - Abandonment Issues

As requested by @golden-nyx-ghost I hope I'm not too far off the mark 😅

Warnings: Mentioned Anxiety/Implied Traumatic Experience/Hurt/Comfort/Also; Crosshair (I mean strong language)

_________

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

_________

I had to do a little research on that topic and thought I'd share what I found.

Abandonment issues is an informal term that describes a strong fear of losing loved ones or of them leaving a relationship. This fear can result from trauma, anxiety, and other mental health conditions.

Most common “symptoms”

worry that friends or partners will leave them

constantly look for signs that others do not really like them

need frequent reassurance that others love them

always try to please others, even at their own expense

give too much in relationships, or have a lack of boundaries

stay in unhealthy relationships due to a fear of being alone

What it can do to a person:

Have anxiety: Both children and adults with fear of abandonment may feel chronically anxious, especially if they feel a relationship is about to end.

Experience relationship challenges: Anxiety about abandonment can alter a person’s perceptions of their relationship, causing them to see problems where none exist. They may be sensitive to any sign of rejection, or find it difficult to trust that their partner will not leave. This can result in clingy behavior, which may impact the relationship.

Communicate poorly: People with abandonment issues may develop harmful communication techniques to ease their anxiety. For example, they may engage in attention-seeking behavior to get the love they feel they might lose.

Engage in harmful behavior: People with a fear of abandonment can sometimes try to prevent their partner from leaving them through manipulative or even abusive behavior. For example, a person may try to prevent someone from socializing with others. This is a form of coercive control.

Source

_____________

AC: Of course, there are different forms of this problem, and it doesn't have to go to the extreme right away. At this point, we assume that no chronic, negative (harmful) behaviors have manifested yet.

_____________

Hunter

He is often quiet, introverted, but unlike you might think, he listens very carefully, is alert, attentive. He does not miss when your mood changes, and you are suddenly unsettled. Hunter reads your body language, notices every little thing. But he doesn't want to barge in, so he first tries to find out what makes you tick, to learn something about your past.

Gradually, he realizes what's bothering you, why you're sometimes so tense and overprotective when you communicate with him, why you sometimes barely let him out of your sight.

"You're afraid," he says unexpectedly.

You look at him, startled; you weren't really aware of it yourself. But now that he brings it up, you feel it abundantly clear.

"You won't lose me, you won't lose any of us. You won't get rid of us that easily."

You blink and say softly, "I've heard that before."

Hunter sighs softly, but smiles at you.

"You will see and learn with time that your past can't determine your future, it can only if you let it. You can count on us"

He grabs your shoulder and looks deep into your eyes.

"Do you trust me?"

You can't help but nod, Hunter's eyes, his expression, you feel so close to him.

"Good, have a little patience, that feeling of security you crave, it will come with time".

Echo

With him, you can talk openly about everything, he is a good listener, and he will always try to find a solution to the problems discussed between you. Echo can well understand what this fear of being abandoned or losing people is and how it feels. As a soldier, one inevitably deals with it a lot. Echo lost a great many of his brothers, not only to war, but also to Order 66.

"Some things we can't hold on to, no matter how hard we cling to them. That's a realization that's hard, but it comes eventually. You have to come to terms with it, make friends with it."

You wrap your arms around your body as if you need to hold on to yourself.

Echo sits down next to you and continues, "None of us want to leave you, but sometimes that's not in our power to decide. Voluntarily, we will never turn our backs on you. But you have to come to terms in a healthy way with the fact that some things are beyond our control."

You sigh softly and say, "I know, I just care that you don't seek distance from me because of me."

Echo laughs softly and says, "You're not getting rid of us that easily."

Wrecker

This cheerful guy is also a good listener and a good distraction. Wrecker can always carry you away and get you out of your darkest worries and thoughts. But he can also listen to you seriously and calmly when you need it.

He is attentive and much more empathetic than some might think.

Wrecker listens and nods in understanding.

"I know it's not the same, but I also sometimes fear losing my brothers. Well, as a soldier, you just worry about the things that might happen in the field. But you can't let that make you crazy."

You smile wryly at him.

"We certainly won't let you down on purpose," Wrecker says with conviction.

"Are you sure?"

"You're not losing us, we're here for you, every one of us," he says with a smile, thrusting a box of Mantel-mix into your hand.

You look up at him and say, "I've thought that about other people too."

Wrecker says perkily, "But we're not other people, we're Clone Force 99, and we deliver what we promise."

Tech

"Change is a fundamental part of life. People come and go, sometimes even those who are particularly close to us. That is quite normal. To be afraid of it is pointless."

You frown and say critically, "Aren't you afraid of suddenly being alone at some point?"

Tech goes into himself for a moment, thinks, then answers, "Not really. It's relatively unlikely that I'll suddenly find myself all alone at some point."

"Couldn't that theoretically happen to anyone?" you ask.

He frowns and says, "Well, theoretically it can, but there's also a probability factor."

You raise your eyebrows.

"Are you trying to tell yourself that right now because you're actually afraid of it too?"

Tech looks at you indignantly.

"I'm not afraid. There's no reason to be, and there's no reason for you to be. Why would we abandon you?"

You shrug, scenarios coming to mind.

"It's enough when priorities change, meeting new people in someone's life, that's often enough to split groups," you say seriously.

Tech hesitates.

"Well… yes, that may be true…"

"But?"

He sighs and says, "If you let that anxiety consume you, you can't enjoy the time you have with the people around you at all. This constant anxious tension is unhealthy"

"That may be," you admit quietly.

Tech hands you back your holopad he fixed for you.

"Here. Good as new," he says with a small smile.

"Thanks Tech, and thanks for listening".

"Anytime."

Crosshair

He has already recognized your behavior and that you cling does not agree with him at all. He can't handle it very well. Crosshair at least tries, in his own way.

"What do you want me to say? People leave us sometimes, and sometimes they leave us behind".

He himself has already had this painful experience, and actually he knows exactly how it feels.

"Hurts like a bitch, but it will pass. You can't let that define your life"

"That's easy for you to say," you sigh, dropping into your bunk.

Crosshair sighs deeply before sitting down on the bunk across from yours that actually belongs to Hunter and looks at you.

"No, I'm not just saying that. I've been through this experience too, I know it sucks, and I know you can get through it if you don't let it consume you."

You sit up and look at him questioningly.

"And how did you do that? How did you deal with it?"

Crosshair sighs again, shakes his head, and says grumpily, "You might not want to take an example from that"

"Why not?"

"My approach was unhealthy, too," he says reluctantly.

As you look at him questioningly, he continues, "Echo would probably say I'm stubborn as shit, but that wasn't it, not quite."

"Then what was it?" you ask cautiously, sensing that you're on sensitive ground here.

Crosshair looks around as if to make sure the two of you are alone. Finally, he looks at you again.

"I didn't cling to other people, but to being a soldier, to my supposed duty. The reason why my brothers and I actually parted ways to begin with. I plunged deeper into it, so deep that soon I was no longer myself. The whole process was painful, for me and others, you should not take an example from that".

You don't say the question that is on the tip of your tongue, but he answers it anyway, as if he felt it.

"Enjoy what you have, hold on to the positive things, not the negative. Deal with it, but deal with it sensibly. You can't force anything, neither that people stay with you nor that old wounds heal. Everything needs time and some work. But you can be sure, we would never abandon you willingly, none of us".

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

@starwarsnerd111

[justshapesandshitposting]

New Tweaked Designs for the Bosses, as well as some up-to-date headcanons for them! it's a bit long so it's going to be under a readmore-

Fresh

His voice is actually high pitched (like the vocals in the actual song) he doesn’t see any issue with it, but if someone starts giving him shit about it he will get annoyed and start getting hostile

Borderline blind, has to actively focus in order to see things clearly, so he mostly relies on his energysense to get around for the most part. 

He actually likes kids, despite his grumpy demeanor, and he’s pretty good with them too, one of the best folks to leave your kids with if you don’t mind the trek to get to his den in the caves

Actually leans more on the feminine side for other centipede shapes, since he's larger than most (this tends to be a trend with arthropod shapes, larger individuals leaning more towards the female side of the shape gender spectrum) 

Semi-transparent midsection with less plating than normal for centipedes, allowing you to see some of his bones (you can’t see his spine, or any of his organs, since they’re deeper in, though sometimes if his stomach or crop is really full, or if there’s something glowing brightly enough in there you might be able to somewhat see it through his skin, it’s more reliably seen with his crop though-)

Territorial towards places and people that he likes, you can tell if he likes you even if he doesn't tell you since he'd start getting lowkey territorial in regards to you

as close to cold-blooded as a shape can get, but it's offset by his general chunkiness and the fact that he dresses warmly

Collar is a comfort item that he almost always wears (also the spikes on them are made with carved treeangle wood, normally they absorb the excess beat-energy he produces, the corruption however overwhelmed them)

if he gets too cold he can go into torpor, sometimes quite suddenly (longest time he's been in torpor has been a month)

has a instinctual behavior pattern of eating more and starting to bulk up during colder months/seasons, even if he doesn't go into torpor during the season. (sometimes he can get pretty mindless with it. Try to avoid being around him if you happen to be small and roughly food-shaped.)

Surprisingly soft, good to cuddle with (as long as you ignore the scattered small plates along his back) don’t expect him to start cuddling unless he likes you though, he’s more likely to straight up eat or maul you, especially if it’s sudden and you startle him.  

Likes to dig and burrow, if you can’t find him, just start looking for the big holes in the damp dirt.

He eats rocks and dirt sometimes, no real reason for it, he just wants to-

Rarely washes his clothes, washes his modified boots even less. 

He normally keeps his mandibles tucked into his mouth, but if he wants to paralyze someone with his venom or just eating they tend to pop out. (if you get on his nerves enough he can and will bite with intent to paralyze and leave you there) 

If he’s feeling strongly about something he starts growing spikes and more plates along his body. 

Those ‘spikes’ along his tail are actually tiny centipede legs, they don’t really get used except as a pouchlet or in his shape form, but they’re there.

He actually knows how to make clothes, kinda had to in order to modify his own to fit his needs better. (most of his clothes are made of denim to last longer)

Lycan

Thrives off of chaos and like the goose from untitled goose game, they will cause problems*… on purpose (*minor problems, more mischievous rather than actual problems)

Grows ‘petals’ (they feel closer to feathers) during spring and winter, after that they tend to shed, leaving them with only their short fur

They are a carrier of the shape version of the vitiligo gene, which while meaning that they aren’t actively vitiligo, if certain conditions are met, the gene can get triggered and cause their colors to start to change, a condition/coloration that’s often referred to as ‘False Vitiligo’ (true vitiligo turns the shape white, gray, or black) in their case, their corruption triggered the gene, and after getting purified their fur and petals gradually started turning magenta. 

They’re one of the few shapes that Bitis actually tolerates/likes, since they know when to shut up and calm down when needed. Plus they’re warm, and willing to act as a living heater for them.

Very loyal to their ‘pack’ which is mainly Fresh, Bitis and themself, though they have a few others that they consider as ‘pack’

Has a tendency of burying things, and also likes to dig, just to make holes

High energy, social, and a ball of furry chaos in general, prone to affectionate biting and scratching as well, not enough to break the skin, but still-

They do like being pet, and will invade people’s personal space, but tends to be leery and wary of people they don’t know petting them

Their sense of smell and hearing is really good, and can often be driven crazy by things like dog whistles and can hear and smell things that some others can’t

They can in fact howl, and sometimes they have the instinct to howl back when they hear it, it’s a impulse thing and they can resist it sometimes, but if they get caught off guard they will howl if they hear another howl

Will affectionately bully the folks that they like, but will cut it out if they upset them or if they’re not in the mood.

Bitis

Their corruption essentially swapped their purple/magenta colors when it came to their markings

An ‘ew people’ type of introvert who only tolerates a few shapes, everyone else can fuck off in their opinion

They’re a sea snake, so they do spend a good deal of time swimming and hunting fish to eat. 

VERY venomous, and fatally so if too much gets put in, which is why they tend to keep their mouth sealed unless they’re actively using it. 

Their venom is paralytic, and they mostly use it to hunt

However the instinct to bite something that startles them is still there, which tend to mean that if you startle them you are going to get headbutted, which is going to hurt both of you-

As close to cold-blooded as a shape can get, however, they can���t go into torpor to hibernate through the colder moths like fresh can, so they just stick to the volcano and bundle up in their ‘sweater’ for the most part. They don’t tend to leave the volcano at all during the colder months. 

Shorter lengthwise than most serpent/snake shapes, but they’re built more powerfully and thicker as a compromise. Makes them actually pretty fast in the water, if somewhat less agile and harder to fit into crevices. 

While it is possible to create a anti-venom for their venom, that involves having to interact with other shapes, and Bitis would rather not have to subject themself to being forced to interact with other shapes if they can avoid it. 

Scales are smooth, to the point that it’s hard to find where one ends and another begins. 

Keeps their hair braided, keeps it out of the way and in one place, since it constantly looks wet/greasy and is slightly heavier than the average. (the braid is what’s causing it to puff up into that hood shape around their head, nobody knows why and Bitis doesn’t care to figure it out) 

Aro/Ace and gets annoyed/disgusted if people start talking about things like relationships or sex in front of them. You will get forced out one way or another. 

Their serpent attacks are structures, and they do in fact have a few pet snakes as well, that are well taken care of. 

Prone to stress-shedding random scales, which can be good when pressed underwater by something dangerous, distract the thing with sudden swarm of shiny scales, but it leaves that area without scales until they shed. 

They can and WILL pop out their fangs and start threatening if someone starts getting on their nerves enough, and if they don‘t get the message they’ll do a ‘dry bite’ that normally gets other shapes to fuck off- 

There’s no proof but there was slight increase in drownings when they first arrived, though honestly, Bitis straight up told people that they’re venomous, that it’s paralytic and that they want to get left the fuck alone unless they like you when they first arrived, so if you go swimming/flee into the water after getting bitten by them it’s kinda on you? (def still manslaughter/shapeslaughter though)

Widow

Prefers to live off of the land in the caves, there’s plenty enough big bugs and other animals that they can feed off of, so she really only tends to go into town for supplies she can’t find or make in the wilderness

Makes her own silk cloth with her own thread/silk and makes clothing and other cloth things like bags. 

Gets along pretty well with Fresh, and will ask him to babysit occationally while she does something. 

Def a milf, and can be quite flirty, though understands if people are a bit anxious about her, it’s only natural. (Arthropod shapes do have a tendacy to have… slightly cannibalistic urges, especially ones that are female/more on the female side of the spectrum, and DEFINATELY while gravid, even if the eggs aren’t fertile/fertilized)

Pretty chill and laid back. she knows that she’s one of the largest shapes on paradise and that most things can’t threaten her, so she’s pretty laid back

Do NOT threaten her kids though, she can go from 0 to 100 on a pin drop if her kids are involved. 

Speaking of her kids, she has a decent amount of them, not a large amount (at least for arthropod shapes) but a decent amount, roughly around 8 of them currently, and a good few others which are fully grown now.

Currently single, and yeah she’s open, though generally isn’t fond of marriage, she’s not against the concept, but she likes having multiple partners that she can dote on

She’s very doting and affectionate with her partners and her kids, can and will pick people up and carry them around. 

Her voice is chirpy and relatively high pitched, and sounds like it belongs to something far smaller than her. 

Will affectionately nibble on folks that they like as long as they’re comfortable with it (no mandibles though since that’s where the venom’s kept)

Her venom is a flesh-melter (she does have anti-venom on her so if she accidentally envenoms someone it’s dealt with quickly) which helps her feed her kids (most pouchlets can only eat fluids or soft foods at first, and spider shapes can have some difficulties eating solid food sometimes)

Morbid

Yeah, they’re a bit bonkers because of their isolation in the tree/level void:™: and are desperate for company, food, and touch- (they need a good amount of therapy) 

However their unstable mental state and their starvation often results in… well… bad outcomes for most who come into contact with them in the level void- 

Fossilized is really the best way i can describe what’s happening to their beat-energy- since their beat-energy is still the same but it’s gradually getting well… replaced or petrified by the ambient energy of the tree void- 

if they were to die in the tree void:™: their energy would still stick around it would just… decay or regress into something that’s more similar to the levels (yes that’s my headcanon about the tutorial levels, the tree’s gotta eat too-) until eventually fading away into the background

However, since they’re a spirit and elemental hybrid, they can feed off of things that other shapes can’t, specifically since they’re a fire elemental, they can feed off of anything that’s flammable, things like clothes for example (which is why they don’t have any clothes) and spirit shapes can essentially parasitize off of other sources of energy, and in their case, they’re feeding off of the energy in the level void itself. It’s not the best, and they are still very much starving, but it’s enough to keep them alive. 

Due to their isolation and general insanity, they don’t really remember anything about themselves from before their entrapment there, they can only get glimpses or blurred sensations occasionally, though once they’re freed they do start to remember a bit more

Their mind is actively suppressing their memories to avoid trauma (they were very attached to the rest of their group, which well… aren’t alive anymore- save for antimony’s ‘familiar’ which is prolly the only thing keeping them sane… or as sane as they can be after their release, and tree help you if you are a threat to their only remaining link to their friends their companion)

Pyromaniac (they had this condition before, but being trapped there made it worse and caused them to start trying to set everything on fire just so there’s something else apart from the darkness there) it gets somewhat better after their release but they still have urges to set everything on fire- 

VERY touch starved, but wear something flame-resistant or fire-proof because they WILL become VERY hot temperature-wise VERY quickly

Oh yeah since they’re a fire elemental they can control their body temperature, but it normally runs hot enough to burn people without protection (at least internally) and it tends to be a bit wonky due to their mental state as well, sudden highs and lows along with their mood and current state of mind. If they focus they can control it somewhat, but they have to re-learn how to do it, since it’s so unpredictable now. 

They can phase through objects and walls since they’re a spirit hybrid, but anything that they have on them that isn’t made with their own beat-energy will get stuck on surfaces unless they actively surround it with their own energy and sorta ‘falsify’ it being part of them

This does mean that they can sometimes get stuck in walls after eating or drinking something. 

They are VERY clingy and a bit obsessive towards those who they enjoy the presence of-

[blank468]

Oh look another unhinged wonder boy Stan who thinks every scene with Bakugo and Deku has to deal with romance. Once again I’m not revealing who this person is to protect their identity but you’ll most likely find them on Twitter if you search hard enough. Three things in particular that proves that they don’t care about what’s happening in the story or if it even makes sense. The only thing that’s important to the eyes of these people is whether the Green Jesus and the Creator’s pet will bang or not.

I’m not sorry.

“Katsuki being overly protective in their relationship, he's always making sure to keep Izuku in line. In an actual relationship it's good to have a partner who is making sure you're not mistakingly saying anything private or personal.”

This person tries to claim that after their second fight, Bakugo was being over protective to Deku as in the way he acts and treats him moving forward is another sign of love. Yeah because him throwing his sharp head piece into Deku head causing him to bleed is a sign of protection and love. Deku in that scene wasn’t even talking about his improvements with Blackwhip out in the open, he said that all in his head. The only I can think of as to B***h boy doesn’t like to see Deku be happy about anything. How romantic.

There was also that one scene in the Endeavor Agency arc where Deku was explaining his quirk and how he wants to improve to Endeavor and Bakugo gets triggered. People like to make the argument that Deku was telling him way too much information about OFA, but does it really matter? Endeavor surprisingly understood what Deku meant and didn’t reveal anything that would get him caught.

I know that Deku almost revealed OFA out in the open(USJ Arc), but that clearly on accident and was in fear for All Might’s condition. And after that he clearly understood how important it was to keep the secret hidden, until the neighbor’s Pomeranian decided to step in and make things insufferable.

So basically Deku was actually being the smart one with these situations and Bakugo was just full of s**t.

“Being vulnerable in a relationship is also important because you feel safe and comfortable enough to show your true emotions around the other, which is Katsuki in this case.”

While being vulnerable is essential in a relationship, that does excuse your behavior and how you treat your partner especially if it’s extremely toxic and stressful. This series can go on all it wants on how Sweaty Pits here feel insecure and vulnerable when he doesn’t get what he wants, but none of that changes that fact that Bakugo had no right to defend himself or justify his shitty behavior when he knows what he’s done is wrong. And even after he EXPRESSES his emotions after losing in technicality to Deku in the battle trials and throwing a child like tantrum all because he wasn’t picked to be All Might’s successor, it doesn’t really matter cause the story finds a way to reward him and guilt trip Deku for no reason.

“Katsuki wants to spend the rest of their lives chasing each other. He wants a future with Izuku and he broke down in front of him cause he's scared they won't be able to.”

Yeah cause apparently there aren’t enough moments where D**k cheese here wins against Deku. All the physical and mental torment Deku had to go through has no meaningful conclusion and are now pointless because the story now decides it wants to support the worst kind of deviant behavior. We have to go through another damn fight/situation that goes through the same process.

1. Deku and My Sweaty Pits git in to a fight.

2. Deku despite being broken AF loses to Bakugo

3. More gloating

I just accepted that Horikoshi will never let his main character beat his most popular character ever in a fight. We’re just supposed to accept the idea that Bakugo is able to beat Deku despite the fact that his victim has several different quirks that could have killed him. I can only imagine if get another round with these two idiots, we all now who’s going to come out on top.

In conclusion, this person and the rest of these stans are delusional.

[jacevelaryonswife]

Golden and Silver, my new colors | part eight

In the following days a thick cloud hovered entirely over Aemond and you, unlike the old and strange tension between the two of you, this one was full of warmth and desire.

∴pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Wife!reader

∴warnings and a note: fluffy, comfort and smut. I will signal the moment where the NSFW part begins in the story with the use of a bold phrase, for those who do not like the content jumpes. English is not my first language. 3,7k of words

golden and silver masterlist

In the following days a thick cloud hovered entirely over Aemond and you, so visible and dense that it could be cut by a sword. Unlike the old and strange tension between the two of you, this one was full of heat, desire and a pleasant tingling that ran through your bodies from head to toe. All these factors originated from the day of the flight in Vhagar. All you could think of was the tenderness and affection of the kiss shared between you in that beautiful sunset, in all the things he said, in all the promises made, in all the exposed vulnerability. All you thought about was him and how your heart warmed when he woke up next to your every day; touch the soft silver threads and sink into the warmth of his body.

And such feelings weren’t strange or divergent from those that one-eyed prince felt. He needed to be by your side every day and hold you close, keep you close, smell you and the softness of your skin, listen to your sharp and soft words, smile at your clever and shrewd comments, or just remain silent enjoying each other’s company.

And also, he wanted you in a more lascivious way that burned his veins when he smelled your and thought about you, or every time your leg and ass bumped into his crotch on the bed and left him impossibly and indecently erect down there. It was true that marital intimacy was never peppered or exploited among you, in fact, the moment in bed was as uncomfortable and torturous as the lack of dialogue. It became bearable after some time, although still strange and nothing similar to what your friends or Aegon (in the case of your husband) reported about the euphoria of copulating.

Both didn’t have enough knowledge about the art of pleasure and weren’y the most apt to act naturally on the subject, but it didn’t mean that the thought about copulating didn’t surround your heads.

Unfortunately the tiredness caused by the pregnancy took the best of you, but the tingling in the center of the thighs didn’t stop when you lay next to him to sleep, or when he looked at you intensely, or when he touched any part of your body...

It seemed like an inappropriate behavior in your condition, especially when the nature of the sensation was as lascivious as the one you felt. The changes that your body suffered were also not encouraging to indulge in carnal pleasure, in your vision, feeling insecure about weight gain and marks that were not there before — at least your breasts were amazing. On the other hand, Aemond was very patient in waiting for your time, although he also nurtured the same hunger for intimacy as you, reaching the however, he didn’t know about your internal questions and for this (and to relieve the tension in his pants) he began to feed relaxed dialogues with you throughout the day, for example:

“I would like to ask something,” he began to capture your attention during breakfast, “what happened to the green dresses? I liked them.”

Oops.

“I gave them mostly, I never liked green actually,” you replied relaxed.

After a moment in silence Aemond just grumbled a quick “Hm”. “What about the black ones with blue details? They were beautiful...”

You knew it! It was obvious that he had been affected by seeing you using your colors and sapphires. It was a low blow. “I still have some,” your tone was falsely innocent, but your tongue decided to be sharper to follow: “maybe if you continue to be a good husband I can use it along with the sapphires,” you hit your eyelashes more slowly than usual.

Seven hells, he thought as his throat dried out.

Yes, you could wear some of them again even if you loved the luxury and glamour of your new dresses (especially the silver one with some shiny stones you wore at the time).

“I would like it very much,” was all he was able to answer.

Later that same day you surprised him again, unfortunately negatively.

“Well... I always wanted to meet Vhagar for what she means to you, a great achievement and pride, but I’ve never been very interested in dragons actually,” you confessed while eating some white grape berries, watching the disappointment on your husband’s face.

“... really?” He asked.

“Does that disappoint you?” You showed a small humorous smile.

“A little,” he replied uncertainly. That pierced his heart like a stab and it took a long time to pull himself together. “Considerably.”

“I imagined,” you went back to reading the book silently, counting on a not very discreet smile on your lips that got bigger every second. Something about his unhappy pout was quite funny and charming, but it made him understand differently than you thought.

“Were you lying?” He asked hopeful.

“No, I wasn’t, it’s just that you look visually adorable when you get frustrated,” your open smile slowed down to superficially kiss his lips.

Somehow his mouth became more swollen in a small frown as he wondered the reason for your rejection against dragons.

“I don’t reject them, I just don’t have the same enchantment for them,” you smiled.

“Hm. You seemed very enchanted by Vhagar.” He said grumpy.

And after a short clash on the subject, you ended the situation with another chaste kiss on your husband

Kisses became common among you at any time of the day, but especially at night when you were getting ready for bed, from the sweetest and kindest to the hottest, demanding, time-consuming and repetitive, accumulating excessive heat in both of you. After a few days the heat between your legs became too much to bear, but your self-esteem and morality were established as annoying obstacles on the... subject. Turning to your mother about such point was out of the question, so you thought immediately recommended your friends. Of course! Drusilla was once a mother and her reports about marital activity are more than spicy, there will be no better advice than hers!

But then the prince noticed beyond your stillness during dinner and decided to ask why. Yes, I’m fine, you answered without much detail initially, but your husband didn’t have a weak perception, no, quite the opposite, he knew that something was around your mind and just waited for you to tell him. It wasn’t an initial option to tell him what was going through your head, especially when your thoughts were so indecent, but look: he was to blame!

After all this started because of him, nothing fairer for him to solve such an implication, so at the end of dinner you decided to open the game: “I’ve been thinking about our conversation about intimacy these days. And I want, I want you, Aemond,” you said. “But I’m uncertain about the act. It seems wrong to do this when carrying a baby, and my body is not totally appropriate for it... I don’t feel so beautiful.”

Gods be good.

“My love...” escaped naturally, making your eyes widen and your mouth half-open. He... he called you love, his love, his love for the first time. Your breath was stuck for a few seconds before it was released heavily. He realized that. He realized what he had said. Did it mean that he loved you? “My love.” He repeated it as easily as before.

Did he love you? If not, what was that feeling that filled him when he held your hand? What was the fire in his heart when your lips caressed each other? When did your eyes meet? When did the sound of your voice involve you?

“You look more beautiful than before, much more than possible. There is nothing that could displease me about your appearance, you’re ethereal.”

The strong beats of your heart preceded the accumulation of tears in your eyes. No one had ever said such beautiful words about you before...

No one but your mother has ever called you my love. Was that what you were? His love?

“Aemond...” you whispered as his big hands wrapped around your face.

“Don’t cry. Everything what I said is true.” He comforted you calmly.

“Do you love me?” You asked.

“...I don’t know. A part of me thinks that developing love for someone requires more time and effort than I offered you. The other one, on the other hand, sees no problem in announcing you as my love, it seems right, too right.” And it warms my chest, he thought.

“I understand,” you said low, which confused the prince’s perception.

Were you disappointed? Or was it mortally understanding? Or was his understanding forged longer than he could have imagined?

“Does that displease you?” He asked, receiving a slightly confused and serious look — just like his.

“No, husband, I appreciate your sincerity,” you replied as you shook his hand over the table.

“That’s not what I asked.” He insisted.

No, that didn’t displease you. “For a long time I wished you to return my affections, I didn’t love you, but... I don’t know, the fact that we were married made me make an effort about us,” you began, “After this mutual time of initial steps in our relationship, I feel many things about you, I always felt them in fact, but now they are mostly positive. I like being with you, I really like it, it does me a lot of good, I don’t believe that we can develop love for each other.”

He always admired the way you couldn’t hide what was in your heart, it was one of the things he loved most about you. “I also believe in that,” he said, “I know it won’t take long for us to love each other,” because I’m already in love with you, “because I believe that the things I feel for you are strong enough for that. Everything about you... I feel stupid for not having seen this before, I saw you.” He kissed your hand before get up from the chair, standing in front of you with an intense look and stronger breathing. “Come with me.”

You accompanied him slowly to the bed, stopping nervously in front of him, feeling the sweet aroma of the wine from the proximity of your faces. He held both sides of your cheek and leaned over for a soft and chaste kiss, just the soft encounter of lips. Your hands went to the back of his neck, over his hair, holding it close as you learned to like it. He walked away long seconds later, gathering the courage to say the next words.

"I know that when we shared the bed before it wasn't profitable for you, but I intend to do things differently this time."

As a studied and competitive man, Aemond ventured one day through the library in the inadequate body anatomy session after hearing a provocation from Aegon about not being able to make his little wife cum. He became a real beast, how did that abused drunk dare to put his ability to the test?

Yes, it was not a lie, and yes, the one-eyed prince hated being underestimated — at that time you were in the third month of marriage and he wasn’t the shadow of the current man. Something about intimacy intimidated him, maybe the fact that the connection was too intimate, or his own annoyance when thinking about what you would think of the eye patch You had never mentioned that until the day of the conversation in Vhagar, although so subtly and superficial and although you were still afraid to fully show yourself to you, Aemond didn’t want to continue maintaining the previous posture.

"Make love to me, husband," you whispered slyly, almost purring, making you hold your back with mannered force.

“I will,” he said in a hoarse voice.

He held your jaw and leaned over for an intense kiss, full of moisture and movement. Even you wanted to get lost in his lips, a very conscious part of your mind exclaimed what was to come, and you asked (beg) the seven to be good. What an indecency.

Aemond traced the skin of your neck with his thumb before moving away from your sweet lips to kiss your neck firmly, making you close your eyes and sigh in his arms.

"Do you like that?" He asked close to his skin

“Yes,” you replied in an airy voice.

Hmm.

Although the reading wasn’t recent, the prince didn’t forget the parties responsible for stimulating the ladies during copulation, and he wanted to practice more than anything. "Good," he murmured, "I want to do this the right way," he said, looking intensely into his eyes now, touching his face on yours, "can I take off your dress?"

Gods be good.

You swallowed nervously with the idea of displaying your body to him, even with the kind words uttered earlier. Still, you gave in to the desire for bodily contact that had been chasing you for long days. “Yes.”

The initiative had come from him, but your husband's lack of dexterity made you help him remove the noble fabric to expose your naked body. Not wanting to give him enough time to look at yourself too much, you hurried to remove his leather tunic that hide his deliciously defined abdomen. Seven hells!

You touched each other almost at the same time, with your hands groping his chest while his groped and massaged your breasts gently, but with a certain pressure, causing chills in your body. He noticed that in addition to your round belly your breasts were fuller than before, which made him delight while massaging. Oh! How good it felt! How firm and soft he was under your fingers! Your urge to plant wet kisses on his chest was faster than your mental response and you loved every second.

Aemond squeezed your ass almost coarsely and made you sigh before walking away grudgingly to hastily remove the shoes and pants from his body, exposing his colossal deity in the form of a man. He was magnificent, perfect, ethereal... and all yours.

This time the kiss was demanding and steaming, full of tongue, touches and bodies touching each other. You held one side of his face and wrapped your arm around his neck, as he held the deep part of your back and your ass, massaging the prominent flesh as his member hardened against your belly, sending a feeling that began to moisten the center of your thighs. You didn't know if it was appropriate to look down, but you did it anyway, seeing the drains and silver hair accumulated in his groin, and you weren't just what you saw... or touched.

The one-eyed prince almost squealed when his cock was caressed with an open hand, closing the good eye automatically.

“Did you like it?"

“Yes,” he murmured hoarsely when you smoothed it again, holding your hand to wrap it properly and move it from base to tip. "Just like that..." your hand was much better than his at the moment of pleasure, and the low sound that Aemond released was more erotic than every time you fucked. "Lye in bed."

And you lay down, spreading your legs to him with your hands close to your breasts. Fucking beautiful. He rose above you like a damn heavenly predator, with his hair perfectly aligned behind his back and hands spreading his thighs more. For him, you've never been as tempting as there. He needed you.

He leaned over to kiss you again, full of tongue and malice, not content to stop only on your lips. Your jaw and neck were the next ones he attacked with wet and hungry kisses, making you melt pleasantly. And then, his lips focused on the halo of your left breast, causing a surprised and sharp moan of your. Seven hells! He sucked your breasts eagerly, leaving them hard and wet — the last consequence also served for your flower. And by the way, you almost squeaked when you felt fingers crawling in your center. He loved the reaction, and loved feeling that you were prepared. Aemond didn’t remember where exactly, but he knew that there was an external point in your feminility (he would never say the word cunt) that was pleasurable for you.

"Are yo-"

"Continue husband, don't stop." He kept smoothing your pussy in a sloppy way until you lost your patience and guided your hand to where you touched a few times in the dead of night. “Here,” and oh! His fingers were so much better than yours, warmer and bigger on your pearl, and mm, so good. And then, that pleasurable tingling was building and building himself and you happily delighted and instigated him to rub harder until your whole body relaxed deliciously. Fucking hell. Aemond was so mesmerized by the scene that he could only look between your face and pussy. But you weren't totally satisfied yet, neither was he.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Yes, you don't have to be worried."

Although he wanted to be totally pressed against your body, your husband didn’t want to exert weight against your belly, so he positioned himself straight on your open and raised legs. He was nervous and excited, but took a deep breath when he held his cock and lined up against your entrance, holding your calf to stand firm.

Your breath engaged and you moaned with the unparalleled feeling of being filled, aggressively holding the sheet at each stretch that Aemond penetrated until it was totally inside. It was as if the air had been stolen from both of you for a while, but he made an effort not to demonstrate vocally.

“May I-“

“Move,” you instructed him, watching him hold on to your knees before pulling a little and pushing with a soft roll of hips. “Oh!” Oh dear, you've never felt so good before. It was an indescribable and scorching pleasure that consumed you with every perforation of your husband's sword. “Aemond,” you moaned out of breath, holding him between your legs.

The prince moaned low and hoarse, increasing the speed of his hips and keeping them constant, squeezing the flesh of your thighs firmly. It wasn't too early for you to define that that was the best sex you had, the thought making you squeeze around him, which partially stole the air from his lungs and almost made him cum. Aemond lowered his head and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to recompose himself while not faltering in his impulses. He wanted to postpone as much as he could before filling you with his seed again — the last thought excited him too much.

Being deep inside you, he rubbed his pelvis against yours, putting pressure on your pear and brushing places you never imagined.

“Give me more, husband,” you couldn't keep eye contact for a long time, letting yourself burn next to him.

The concentration almost overshadowed the pride he felt when he saw your breathless and needy state. Aemond was not vocal at all, but the small noises and moans he let out were enough to make you even more heated. The truth was that none of you would last long if his movements continued deep and infernally fluid, or if he continued to alternate his gaze fixedly between your eyes and where your bodies connected.

Even your pregnancy was in a little over two months and your belly wasn’t big enough to generate discomfort, Aemond would not like you to make an effort, however, he would love for you to see you riding him. Realizing how your body reacted when he hit a different angle, Aemond repeated the action for a short time until you were moaning his name loudly and squeezed him with full force.

It was too much for him.

He came with a sensual and hoarse sound, louder than the previous moans.

A particular impulse reached a point that made you tremble from head to toe, squeezing even more against his cock.

“Seven hells,” he grunted.

In tour hot and white euphoria, you didn't notice him lying down totally panting and with a warm hand over your belly. It was much better than you could imagine.

"So this is the fire of dragon?" You asked playfully.

He chuckles. "I suppose so."

—————————————

This may be the penultimate or antepenultimate chapter, I don’t know yet :)

[beemovieerotica]

oh god ok I just caught up on this and WOW

so, thought #1: yeah these are awful lol

thought #2: I don't think AI is going to create a uniquely bad atmosphere for fraud in academic articles, because we've already established the incentives and conditions for fraud to be a substantial problem in the first place

most people heard about the foundational Alzheimer's research that was found to be fabricated, and that was probably the most high profile case in recent years

institutions basically lock PI's in an eternal grant-writing grind where they have to produce interesting, relevant, and novel research continually in order for them and everyone under them to keep their jobs. it de-incentivizes any type of research that seeks to verify or reproduce previous studies (journals generally won't publish this) and if you end up NOT finding something ground-breaking, then it's seen as a scientitic failure rather than a naturally possible outcome of investigating the world, in which things sometimes aren't interesting

this obviously lays incentives for fudging data in the whole field of science itself, but there's been high amount of fraud coming from institutions in china which is why I was disappointed but not especially surprised by this

I'm prefacing this by saying that scientists based in china have been asking for solutions to this and rightly pointing the blame to the uniquely weird government funding scheme as the cause. I'm not going to get too much into it, but there have been issues with fake paper mills for years, and "citation circles" (iirc you can get a cash kickback for how many times you're cited) of people agreeing to cite each other's irrelevant papers.

it's gotten to the point where, and this is really bad, PI's over here will ignore papers that come from china-based institutions under the presumption that the data is unreliable.

excerpt from the article:

For example, in 2017, Tumor Biology published by Springer retracted 107 papers, all of which are by Chinese authors, because authors provided made-up contact information of potential reviewers, and the review processes ended up being manipulated by third-party agencies that make profit from “faking” the review processes (Chen, 2017). Also, certain journals have in recent years witnessed a concentration of works by authors from China. We suspect that this is because of closely knit networks of editors, reviewers and authors, which results in superficial peer-review, easy acceptance, and deliberate self-citing from the same journals to boost impact factors (see Guglielmi, 2019 for similar patterns of behaviors occurring to Italian scientists).

re: the last sentence, it does happen to a lesser degree elsewhere, which is why this is a field-wide problem

the chinese government has I think in recent years realized that the way everything is structured is de-legitimizing their research, and there have been huge efforts to crack down on fraud and basically place sanctions on these scientists. but that's sort of just handling the symptoms and not the cause - I'm not sure how far along they are on rectifying the index by which they ascribe merit and funding potential to PI's (we do this in other ways too) but yeah, the whole system of academia itself has to change.