#I LOVE YOUR PRESENCE EGG NASTY

[gornackeaterofworlds]

GORNAAAACKKKKKK u were in my gratitude list today 👊👊👊🫶🫶🫶 ily and ur blog so much

WHAAAAAT

OH MY GOODNESS IM HONORED

I LOVE YOU AND YOUR BLOG WAAAA

[slightly-knot-insane]

The Bringer of Rain

Monstertober 2024 - day 2 [ Local folklore ] by @ozzgin

[ m!zmaj* x fem!reader ]

*The closest translation for 'zmaj' would be 'dragon', and they are generally similar in many ways. However, Slavic zmaj has no connections to fire or gold like Western ones. Zmaj is connected to storms and rain, and they are quite fond of people. More info about them after the story.

You've been with him for days. Or was it weeks? You aren't really sure anymore. Days have melted into short moments of sleep, drowsy periods of wakefulness, and intense hours of sex and orgasms.

You are tired. Your body aches for rest and relaxation, but you can't get enough of him. You expect him every moment to come to your room, sneaking in through windows, underneath door gaps, through cracks in walls. He always takes human shape, and appears in front of you naked and hard.

"I had to see you," he says this every time he lays his radiating eyes on you. His arms are already all over you. He seems so desperate, so parched, as if he hasn't seen your for months. "I must have you again."

And he does - oh-so-hard. His stamina is incredible. He can pound your every hole for hours, holding his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. He's not supposed to be spending this much time with you. He is supposed to gather clouds and bring fertalizing rain to the fields and farms. But all his been doing was fertilizing your eggs.

He lifts your leg on his shoulder and kisses your knee before starting to roll his hips. Zmaj's cock is large and thick, heavily ribbed. His breaths are shallow, even and collected, while you are panting, almost gasping for air, inches away from another climax.

"Shh, be quiet, my dove." His voice is calm, but there is a hint of panic.

Loud banging on the door interrupts you. "We know he's here, that zmaj-whore!" Your uncle's voice is on verge of screaming. "Untangle yourself from him so that we can talk some senses to him."

"Shit!" Zmaj grabs you and presses you against his chest, sheltering you from something. A strange feeling washes over you and you're plummeted into darkness.

When you open your eyes, you are outside, somewhere far away from your home, but you can't see a lot since it's dark and the sky is sprinkled with stars. And all around you lays a massive presence.

"My love," zmaj whispers, and embraces you with his claws. "I hope I didn't scare you."

"Not at all. I'm so happy to see your true form." An impressive adult zmaj is glowing with a dim silver light, encircling you like a tight ouroboros.

"It was the only way to escape a nasty fight. And I needed my wings."

You shake your head. "I know. You are magnificent."

He chuckles. "I'm happy you think so. But I should return you to—"

You abruptly stand up and hold his snout. "Return me? Before saying a proper goodbye? I could never forgive you."

Zmaj blinks in confusion. "Oh. I'm sorry. Of course I would never just—"

How is this magical creature so incredible, yet so dumb. "I want you to fuck me with a proper zmaj cock, you dumb-dumb."

"Oooooooh." His long exhale was like a warm breeze and your hair billows. With a wink of his snake-like eye, he rolls over on his side. A long and pulsating silver cock is already hard for you, too heavy to stand upwards. "Come here, my sweet sparrow."

Your zmaj boyfriend is more than patient. His cooing and kisses helped you relax, and his thick tongue stretched your pussy out, and kept you moist. His saliva was warm and slick. Slowly, easily, with your permission, he slides his dick in. It is so big that it immediately inflates your stomach, and a faint glow lights your skin. He puts his hand around your waist to support you, and he lets you take his length in your own pace. He only growls and praises your bravery for wanting to try out his true form.

All you can do is moan and pant, barely coherent, as his ribbed phallus rubs against your walls. Your cunt has never been this full and this moist. "Fuck... yes... please... more..."

"You like this? You like my true form?" He shifts behind you and there is a feral change in his voice. You just whine and confirm in some pathetic way, before he takes charge and pushes his cock as far as it can go and growls, no longer verbal.

The sensation of his monstrous cock thrusting in and out, his loud breathing and smell of his sweat drive you crazy. You orgasm several times and so intensely that you eventually lose awareness and simply drown in pleasure.

When you open your eyes next time, waking up from a refreshing dream, the sun is rising. You are on your home's roof. But it wasn't the pink sky or uncomfortable ground that woke you up, but heavy drops of rain. You smile and pat your stomach swollen and heavy from zmaj's seed.

Zmaj monsters could, of course, be male or female, and they enjoyed taking human lovers. Sometimes, they would have sex with a new lover so much and often they would forget to bring rain. The angry villagers, whose crops were dying from drought, would then look for a human that looked the most ill and thin (since that would indicate they were exhausted from so much good zmaj sex). Then, the villagers would bang with pots around the lover's house to scare the zmaj back to work. Unfortunately for the poor zmaj's lover, zmaj would leave and they would never find another partner as good as zmaj was. Sometimes zmaj monsters and people would have children and they were called zmajevit. They were super strong and considered heroes (from Serbian mythology).

[beansmack2021]

Have you thought about doing "relationship sceanarios" for the hazbin characters? I've seen boyfriend/girlfriend sceanarios for fandoms on wattpad and quotev before, but that could be something that'd give you lots of different things to write 🙃

Relationship Scenarios

Alastor:

ROMANTIC

• Very sweet

• Calls you names like dearest, beloved, darling, love

• Would kill for you (and has)

• If you're hurt, he immediately sweeps you away and takes care of you himself

• Gets even redder in the face (if that's possible) if Angel gets a little too comfortable with you

• "Shoo, bug, before I squash you."

• Has ripped off a demon's arm for trying to grab your wrist on the street

• Lays awake at night, just listening to you breathe

• Knows you're a weakness, and tries to deny his feelings at first so he won't be putting you at risk, but can't push them back for any longer

• Vows to protect you for the rest of his time in hell instead

PLATONIC

• If you're younger than him, he becomes sort of like a father figure to you

• Wouldn't like letting you leave the hotel by yourself

• Won't ... gently... remind Husk of his deal in your presence (He doesn't want to subject you to seeing that)

• Hears your quiet cries and sniffles when you have nightmares and immediately comes to your bedside to comfort you

• "It's okay, little one. I'm here. Nothing can hurt you while I'm around."

• Gets nasty with anyone who even hints at you being anything less than the most important person in hell (You're the most important to him, at least)

• When you're hurt, he goes into protective dad mode

• Loses his absolute mind when he sees you crumple

• Believes you're the only person truly worthy of redemption, but doesn't want you to leave him

Husk:

ROMANTIC

• Always has your favorite drink ready for when you come to visit him at the bar

• Purrs when you're around, gets embarrassed

• Wishes he'd never made his deal with Alastor, if only so the two of you could live your afterlives freely together

• Gets angry when Alastor pulls him away if the two of you were together

• Doesn't express his love very often (he's not big into PDA) but when does, he's very genuine and sweet

PLATONIC:

• Keeps an eye on how many drinks you have a night

• Reminds you time and time again not to make deals with the Radio Demon. No matter what he could do for you, your soul isn't worth it.

• Showed you a magic trick once when you were upset to try and cheer you up

• Acts like he doesn't care, but he's a big softy.

• Has snacks that the hotel doesn't usually offer under the bar because he knows they're your favorite

• Hums songs that you sing because he can't get them out of his head

• You two occasionally dry glasses together in silence, just because you enjoy each other's presence

Sir Pentious:

ROMANTIC

• Cried when you accepted his offer to court you

• Gets annoyed when his egg boys follow you around on dates

• Welds gifts for you

• Tries to cook for you. Fails

PLATONIC

• Sometimes, you have to help him pull off some of the scales that he sheds

• Gives you a pair of old goggles because he realized that you liked his

• Asks you to fly around in his ship, teaches you how to fly it

Vox:

ROMANTIC

• Adores you, doesn't care about showing everyone on the Voxnet

• Makes sure you carry some piece of technology with you when you leave home, just in case something happens. He can get to you a lot faster if he can jump through screens. At the very least, he'd at least know where you are

• Hates Alastor, but is more worried about him doing something to you than their rivalry

• Always lets you choose what you're watching together

• Gets pissed at Valentino if he tries to make moves on you

PLATONIC

• You bought him glass cleaner as a gag gift once, only to find out you'd accidentally bought his favorite product for him

• You try to find his power button when you're mad at him

• Posts silly pictures of you. Sometimes they're cute, other times, he wants to embarrass you

• If his volume is too high when he yells, he apologizes immediately. He saw the way you'd flinch and felt awful for being the reason you'd been so nervous

Adam:

ROMANTIC

• Likes to take you out to eat. You guys live in heaven, you've got the best food you can find all around

• As much as he jokes about being the "dickmaster", he's very respectful and refrains from making jokes like that to you

• Takes you flying sometimes

• Wouldn't let you follow him into hell for extermination (you didn't need to see that)

PLATONIC

• Likes to knock out a few plates of ribs

• Suggests you two forming a band loads of times

• He makes a lot of jokes, but if they make you upset, he'll actually apologize

Lucifer:

ROMANTIC

• Worships the ground you walk on

• Kisses your hands

• Makes you a rubber ducky whenever you seem down (you have too many)

• Tries to bring you to the hotel whenever he visits Charlie

PLATONIC

• Tries to braid your hair, fails

• Thinks of you like another child

• Loudly screams he loves you from across the room, people mistake you for his lover

Angel Dust:

ROMANTIC

• The sex jokes stop when he's with you. He doesn't really care about that stuff, he cares about making the most of your time together

• You patch him up after a few rough shifts with Valentino

• He tries to become sober, if not for the hotel, then for you

• Doesn't want you to worry about him, no matter how bad he gets

PLATONIC

• Enjoys just sitting on the couch when it's the two of you

• Jokes about drugs, but would probably be disappointed if he found out you used

• Offers to put stuff on higher shelves for you

• Watches sad movies with you and cries (claims he doesn't)

Charlie:

ROMANTIC

• Loves hugs

• Will drag you outside to see the stars

• Probably cries about how beautiful you are

• Makes cards for you for every holiday

• Doesn't even breathe if you fall asleep on her shoulder

PLATONIC

• Brings you soup if you're sick

• Tries to help you grow some flowers, fails

• Helps you with your hair

• Is very sisterly

• Notices immediately when you're not in the mood for her optimism. Tones it down like 40 percent

Vaggie:

ROMANTIC

• Tries to stab Alastor for you

• You're the only person she trusts to help her trim her hair

• Steals your shirts

• When her wings come back, she takes you flying

• Tries to teach you how to use her spear

PLATONIC

• Tries to teach you Spanish

• Bandages your wounds after the extermination

• Has punched you out of instinct

• Loosens up just a little bit with you

• Tries to let her feelings out more

Rosie:

ROMANTIC

• Gives you the best part of her food every time

• Hums little tunes to you

• Eats people who make you angry

• Takes you shopping

PLATONIC

• Goes on walks through Cannibaltown with you

• Tries to get you to cut your hair like hers

• Kisses your cheeks in greeting

[lucianhuntress]

Day 2. Gale Dekarios x Reader: 8. “Did I just see you smile?”

Campfire crackles and its flames dance, illuminating the dark night. Just a few hours back you and your companions stumbled into a cave full of spiders and other nasty beings. You and Astarion somehow got the worst of it when the two of you fell into a pit full of spider eggs. 

Needless to say, the atmosphere has fallen into a rather gloomy state in the camp after Astarion had his emotional meltdown. You two were after all covered in all sorts of spider intestines, juices and other nasty excretions you don’t even have a name for. 

Gale, who had been far more lucky back in the cave, clearly notices how the whole experience has left you speechless as you mostly stare into the fire as if it would burn the memories of hairy spider legs in your mouth.

Much to his disappointment he couldn't get everyone into a cheery mood with his divine cooking skills; he managed to whip up a dinner for the whole party with just a few bottles of alcohol, an apple, a dried sausage and some purple grapes. Honestly, if you ask him, he outdid himself big time.

Yet nobody seems to be elated at all!

Gale finds a spot next to you and sits down, wondering how he could at least cheer you up if no one else feels like it— you have become quite important to him anyway. You would always listen to him, eagerly learning things and, oh, he loves to explain pretty much anything. Your silent presence is what he is used to, but not when you are quivering as you stare into oblivion.

“How was the water?” He asks nonchalantly, observing you cautiously. 

You, and Astarion, had quite the scrubbing ritual as soon as you got to the camp; the two of you nearly ran into the small pond —only after Wyll had made sure the pond contained nothing larger than frogs swimming in it.

“I was thinking,” Gale started after he got no reply from you, “that maybe we should have a dance class tomorrow? You know— we take a day off and just dance like madmen.”

It is normal for Gale to have odd ideas, but this was… well this is definitely weird. So you manage to finally even give him an incredulous side eye.

“Yeah, I know, I know— we have these squiggly little things swimming in our brains, and we should really hurry to Baldur’s Gate, but hey at least we'll have fun before we turn.”

You scoff as you turn back to stare into the flames. It's like the fire has hypnotized you.

“Or, in my case, explode,” Gale adds with a dramatic sigh. You know he is joking, but something in his theatrical effort tugs your lips slightly upwards and he yelps, stumbling back slightly, “Did I just see a smile? And here I thought you had turned into a rock!” 

You gently nudge him with your elbow, your smile widening slightly. 

“Ow!” Gale whines, but you see him smiling as well, “glad to see you smiling though, I don't know what I would do with the rest of the group looking like a goblin had stolen their morning porridges.” He leans in closer and lowers his tone as he mumbles: “nasty goblins those are.”

Heat climbs up your cheeks, even though the fire has been making sure you aren't cold, and your eyes meet. 

“Thanks, Gale.” You whisper meekly as butterflies flutter in your chest. 

“You're welcome,” he purrs and backs away slowly, “my bedroll is also rather empty so you're welcome to—”

You nudge him slightly harder with your elbow once again, earning another “ow!” 

[joemama-2]

Always Forever

tags: angst, heartbreak, post riko death, getou spiraling and defecting

a/n: this came to me on a whim (like they all do) and i just had to write it down. first getou post woohoo!

———————————————————

have you ever loved someone so much that it physically pains you? that it weighs heavily on your mind day and night, for every fleeting second. you can do whatever you want, try however hard you think is necessary, but no matter what, they invade your mind like a nasty intruder. it's like you're bound and tied by the shackles of love herself, forbidding you from devoting yourself, your all, to anyone else. the shackles burn, sting, and pull at your skin so hard you cry and cry, just begging to be let go. but in a sense, the pain is good and overwhelming, so much so that...you start loving the pain too.

that's what getou suguru asks himself every morning.

he doesn't know where is started. you were just a simple kohai, one that didn't stand out to him. he treated you like any senpai would. he would always greet you in the halls, offer you advice and tips about techniques and fighting. were you friends? peers? schoolmates? who knows. maybe it happened when you asked the simple question on one random sunny day. you two were under a tree, eating lunch together (more like you just found him alone one time and sat next to him, to which he was too generous to tell you to move).

"how do curses taste?"

your voice is innocent, so is the question. he shouldn't have thought too much about it. you were just curious. but is it really so bad of him when his stomach flutters with an unknown feeling, eyes widening with a newfound sense of....what was it?

"i bet they're as gross as they look, huh?" you smile politely, fork that just jabbed at your egg roll next to your lips. lips that suddenly look too pink, too wet, and too soft.

he clears his throat. what are you thinking? "i wouldn't recommend it." he says in his usual smooth voice, the corner of his lip quirked upwards. "it's not very appealing to the human tastebuds."

with a hum, you respond. "so like, a dirty rag that was used to clean throw up?"

and once again, you surprise him. he softly chuckles, eyes crinkling. "that's exactly how they taste."

and so this became a routine of your guys'. having lunch under the same tree, sometimes switching or sharing lunches. it felt nice, domestic even. sure he had satoru and shoko, and sure they were his close friends too, but you felt different. you were different. it's why he hated leaving you. he enjoyed your presence and mundane questions, sought them out like they were his favorite things in the entire world. maybe they were.

it was like everything changed overnight. you saw him leave as getou suguru, and when he came back, he was somebody else. could you voice this to him? no, you couldn't. maybe you were just that cowardly. and sometimes you think back and wonder "what would've happened if you did say something?". would things have been different? changed? would you be happier? would you not have to wake up longing for someone who was gone?

you're not sure what's worse, mourning someone who died, or mourning someone who's alive, and just doesn't want to be found.

you ran, and ran, and ran once you heard news of what he did. the atrocities he committed. you curse yourself with tears stinging your eyes as they blur your vision. you should've done something. you saw how he was hurting when he came back, how he even lost weight, and you didn't do a single thing. hope was your friend, you hoped you could continue your routines together as if nothing happened, as if that would simply pull him out of this dark hole he found himself in.

you hate yourself. and never, will you be able to forgive yourself.

but, you could forgive him.

it's why you pushed everything aside, everyone aside to see him one more time. did you think you could maybe get him to come back? see that what he did was wrong? but what would've that helped? if he came back, he would be executed. it was a lose-lose situtation.

you stood before him, tears running down your face and panting.

"why?" is all you could muster out, fists clenching by your sides.

if he's bothered by the tears, he doesn't say anything or show it. he's cold, different. "i've chosen my own destiny, i hold no regrets for my actions."

your eyes are wide, feeling every single shard of glass his words send right into your heart and stomach. "h-how could you?"

he puts his hands in his pockets, concealing the amount of restraint it's taking to not hold you in his arms. "everything has a reason, my actions are justi--"

"you're a murderer." you hiccup out.

"i am."

"what about everyone else? satoru? me?" you add emphasis to the last part, hands shaking as you pull out one of his own, holding it like it's your lifeline. and maybe it was. because with one tentative, but gentle grip, he pulls your hand away.

that was the last time you ever touched him, that he touched you.

"i've though about it all, about you, and i still pushed forward. you want to know why? because no matter what, no matter how hard I tried, I could never be happy."

and those words, those five words, have forever changed you. you could never hear those words the same again after that. you hate those words.

"if you wish to kill me, you can." with that, he turns around and walks away. walks away from the jujutsu society, from his former life, from his friends, from you.

of course, he knows you couldn't kill him, even if you wanted to. but you didn't want to. because all you wanted was your getou back, but your getou wanted nothing to do with him.

so, for the question "have you ever loved someone so much it physically pains you?"

you can, getou concedes.

so much that you start hating everything about them.

which is why he had to leave you.

and even years later, you reside in his mind, taking up every crook and nanny. never will he be able to get rid of you.

for you, getou was your number one, with him, it was always forever.

you guess they're right...love is the most twisted curse of them all.

both of you had the displeasure of tasting it, and it was completely and utterly disgusting.

he hates you, but getou suguru hates loving you even more.

[imagine-this-doesnt-suck]

Dead Doves were Born to be Eaten

YellowJewl

Summary:

Here is chapter 2/2 of the continuation fic to Sleeping with Spiders, I hope you're happy you little nasties. We're back and gorier than ever It's fucked, real fucked. There is murder, smut, violence, if you are not comfortable with these themes, don't worry it's not going to hurt my feelings if you scroll on by, I'll still love you.

Chapter 2

Their ecological role is to be prey,” said some doctor during a nature documentary, you had only turned on for the background noise. “They are born to be eaten, and humans are just one of their predators. Hunting has not caused any decline in the various dove species.” Its true, the bird's populations remain resilient, mostly because of their prolific reproduction methods. They’re basically flying rabbits. Commonly, producing only a pair of eggs for each nest, a mating pair will produce up to five broods of young annually, nesting from March until November. Eggs take just 2 weeks of incubation to hatch.

So in short you don't feel as bad about hunting them as you once did. The guilt that once weighed down your shoulders like a ton of bricks every time you grabbed your rifle for a hunt, that made you suffer through countless, meatless dinner nights with only the vegetables you grew from your amateur garden and instant ramen you had picked up from your bimonthly trip to town, to fill your stomach, had all passed. You were able to rationalize it now. It was okay.

They were born to die and be eaten.

You inhale a breath of crisp air into your lungs, it smells overwhelmingly like the pine trees surrounding you in this moment. As you exhale you take the time to level your rifle and aim while you prepare to shoot.

Since moving up here, so much has changed in these past few months. A part of you was worried that the isolation would get to you, that years of living in the city in your comfy apartment, would have made you too soft for this life. But in truth you loved it. You found your cabin to be cozy and charming. The chirping of birds and the delicate rustle of the leaves caused by the mountain breeze turned out to be quite relaxing while you painted. As far as finding being lonesome went, well…

He did stop by quite often, so you wouldn't say that you were all alone.

You had met him some months ago, right before you had decided to move up here. Your first meeting was… unconventional to say the least. But he had expressed great interest in your artwork and you found his talents to be quite entertaining as well. You wouldn't call it love, in your opinion you were both just a little bit too twisted for such a sentiment, instead a mutual fascination was born the the night the two of you crossed paths. 

Still, who could say that it was merely fascination that led him to your cabin time and time again, only to end up buried between your thighs, bloodied knife in hand and a breathy moan that resembled your name rolling off his tongue. 

You were grateful for him. For he was the one who awakened the real you. There was an ugly truth within you that your parents had shamed into hiding. The part of you that had only ever been let out of her cage when you painted. The girl who loved gore and horror, the girl who created truly horrific and blood curdling pieces, the girl who's toes curled in ecstasy whenever he would plunge a kitchen knife into your abdomen and slowly cut off your air supply as he choked you with only one hand. 

Being with him was like living, breathing art. A verse by one of the greats,  Being touched by him felt like poetry;

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed

And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The man was an insatiable sadistic.

And you were a monster.

You entered the log cabin with ease as the door was left open by its former occupant. The strong scent of iron gave away the presence of blood within your home. 

 Without even giving him a glance you let out an amused laugh. "Bringing your work home with you?" You joked.

"Not my home. Your's ." He responds with a smile.

"Hitchhiker or hunter?" You ask, your voice calm and level. It was casual, the conversation had a certain ease to it, as if you were chatting about what you would cook for dinner as you unloaded the groceries. The thought was so sickeningly domestic. 

You dump the dead bird carcasses on your counter.

"Hitchhiker. Picked him up on way here."

He doesn't turn to look at you as he speaks. From the moment you met him, you found the man before you to be unequivocally beautiful. With his raven black hair that falls just above his shoulders in length and frames his pale face and short stature. He was probably just below five foot if you had to guess. But despite his stature he possessed an almost lethal aura about him and when his sharp grey eyes dart to meet yours, fear itself almost made you turn tail and run when you had first encountered him. Now, his back faces you as he hunches over the young man tied and gagged to one of your dining room chairs. 

You approach Feitan from behind, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling him affectionately, "that's hot." You tell him, feeling up his chest from over the long robes he's clothed in.

He grunts. "Mmm..." You continue to nuzzle him while you whisper sweet nothings in his ear. 

With razor sharp precision and speed, your lover plunges the knife into the man, you sigh dreamily. The victim screams out in pain, the stab wound wasn't enough to kill him, it was just deep enough to keep the game going.

In a second chair, you hear a whimper and turn to be greeted with the sight of a young woman, she looks thrown about and frightened. The victim's girlfriend you suspect, sobs as Feitan continues with his torture.

"Stop, please stop!" She begs, "I'll do anything. I'll... I'll give you anything you want." Tears stream down her beet red face, leaving stains of mascara running down her cheeks. A pitiful sight indeed but, one you know the man you are draped over would enjoy quite a bit.

 You turn and smile at her, "hush. He likes it when you scream, I don't recommend it unless you want it to be your turn sooner."

Her pupils dilate in terror as she goes silent, heeding your warning. Leaving the two of you continue to torment the now unconscious man, severing a finger every so often to awaken him from his slumber.

"Let me grab a drink. I'll be right back." You tell him too casually as if the two of you were simply sitting on the couch together watching a movie. You rush to the kitchen and reach into the cupboard to grab something you were saving for a while. Clear liquid sloshes around in the bottle as you giddily rush back to the atrocities in the living room.

You throw your head back as you take a swig of alcohol. It burns your throat on the way down, setting your insides on fire, adding to the heat and excitement you are already feeling.

"Do you enjoy it?"

The question catches you off guard but you quickly recover, "I enjoy every moment I spend with you." You say honestly. You assume he's asking about the work he's brought home and not the small bit of drinking you had indulged in. Though, honestly you do enjoy both. Drinking has become a bit more of a habit for you as you moved out here all alone. And more so since Feitan has so graciously included you in his passion projects. The booze just loosens you up is all, not that you have any inhibitions about your actions but, it does help quiet that still small voice inside that constantly reminds you that you are a monster. Not that you would tell any of this to Feitan.

Feitan looks down at you, surprise finds a home upon his brow. A pair of sharp grey eyes regard you for a moment with such intensity before coming to rest in an amused expression. "You enjoy every moment you spend with me?" He says, his voice showing curiosity, "Then why do you spend so little time with me?" He seems to be in a teasing mood today. A good thing for you.

 You swat his arm and laugh, "because you are always away with your little troupe, doin crime or whatever." You go to take another swig but take a second to drink the moment in instead, strands of raven black hair fall into his face as he leans towards you, smirk peeking out just above his bandana. As your laughter dies down, you feel the slight tinge of pink stain your cheeks.

He reaches his hand out and grabs yours, pulling you close, "I am always away with my little troupe, if I was not, we would see more of each other."

"What do you mean?" The pink in your cheeks fade into a bright cherry red. Something wells up inside you as you ask this question. It's excitement. It's knowing that the next words out of his mouth could mean everything. Could change everything. Up until this moment, you knew the deal, it was just sex accompanied by the mutual enjoyment of the slaughter and gore. You were never going to ask for more but now that the thought was placed in your head, you couldn't help but mull it over. Even you want to feel a connection.

He looks like he's about to reply to your inquiry and you impatiently await his words, when suddenly like nails on a chalkboard, the victim's girlfriend interrupts with her sobbing, "please! Please let us go!" It seems as if she couldn't hold her tongue any longer.

Feitan turns to look at her, a faint smirk on his face. He reaches his hand out and gently squeezes her cheeks as she sobs, forcibly making her purse her lips. "If that is what you want, girly." He says, venom dripping off his sweet words.

You glare at the two as the interaction plays out. Why couldn't the woman just keep quiet? Did she just have to be such an attention whore and ruin your moment? Whatever happened to women supporting women? Annoyed, you pick up a severed finger that the man had lost and walk over to the woman. you frustratedly push past Feitan and stuff the appendage in her mouth and sneer. "There that will shut you up" you say.

She begins to sob as Feitan releases her face, but before she can cough up the foreign object in her mouth, you clap your hand over her mouth and begin to squeeze.

 She begins to choke on the finger.

You let out a delighted chuckle as her eyes start to bulge from their sockets. You make a mental note to try to remember every detail of her now nearly blue face as you think about what a lovely portrait her tear stained visage would make.

Feitan draws you out of your concentration as he wraps his arms around you and begins to feel you up his hand dipping up under your shirt, "you are always so creative" he coos. You feel his other hand wandering down into your pants, but before you can react he begins to squeeze your breasts.

"Ah, you have such nice ones. Pretty little slut" He comments, as he pinches a nipple in between his fingers

 "Horny asshole." You spat before engulfing him in a kiss. The two of you collide in a passionate ferver as you continue to explore each other's bodies, until you have just about felt each other up everywhere.

You moan in ecstasy as you see him grab for his knife. You shiver in anticipation as you await for what you consider the best part of the night.

Your arms tighten around his neck as you move to straddle him. Bucking your hips, you begin to ride him back and forth, the both of you moaning as he tightens his grip on the blade in his hand.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his hair as you try to anchor yourself to reality. Panting, you breathe out, "what was that about wanting to be with me more often?"

"Don't remember…saying that." He grunts out as his fingers dig into your ass cheeks, helping you along as you ride him. He tightens his grip and you swear that he must've drawn blood.

You furrow your brows in frustration. And through the utter ecstasy of being impaled upon the man below you, you stutter out your response, "C-come on. Early- oh fuck yes! Ah! Earlier you at least pretended like you like me " you manage to whine out the words. You feel him stall for a moment. As if your words gave him a reason for pause but, the cold steel finds it's home dangerously close to your jugular.

"I like you... a lot." You are like a deer in the headlights as your eyes widen. You study his face, his demeanor, the tiny subtle movements of his blade, any sign that he was feeding you horse shit. But whether you simply cannot read the man or the woman alone, lost in the woods, wants so desperately to find a connection to anything that she manages to delude herself, you are unable to sniff out the lie

"I like the way you scream." as his knife trails across your jawline. He smirks as the knife flows down your curves line running water. You squeeze your eyes shut and grin wickedly as you fall victim to the extacy of the moment. You scream out as his knife plunges into your stomach. Your back arches as you scream, crying out in pain as your blood pours out of you.

You hear him chuckle. "I think you like the way i cut you up."

"Yes! Yes!" You moan.

He laughs as the blood coats you like a warm blanket.

Your vision begins to blur as you breathe out the forbidden words between you two and whisper, "I love you…"

 You when you finally do awake on your cabin's couch, your wounds are bandaged and the two victims are slumped over in a corner, presumably dead. Feitan meanwhile, is no where to be found.

He must have unsurprisingly ran off. Your fault really. You spooked him, like a deer fleeing from a warning shot. Should have known better than to get too close. Sometimes you just forget yourself though, you start to think of him as a mirror to yourself. Another monster thirsty for blood but seeking something more. But he isn't you. 

You roll off the couch as your stomach growls and you clutch your bandages as you stumble towards the kitchenette. The dove you had shot, waiting patiently for you to turn it into a meal. You recall one time when you had tried to cook dove for Feitan once before. He had just sneered at you, snapping "Don't you ever fucking eat normal food?"

You smile at the memory when you finally make your way to the kitchen table and sit down to eat. And proceed with the day like any other.

The world doesn't stop when Feitan leaves on his trips. You wake up, eat, shower, do your chores around the cabin and garden, hunt, check your traps, and find time to paint. 

Speaking of chores, after you dump your dirty dish into the sink, you set out on cleaning up the mess from the day before. As you leave the cabin you toss your gun sling over your back, figuring you might be able to shoot a few doves down in your downtime. Grabbing a wheelbarrow and shovel you push it towards your front door and begin to load up. You make a point to do these sort of chores in the morning, or else the smell starts to become too bad. 

You wheel your load past your garden and closer to the tree line. You grab your shovel and begin to dig. Birdsong serenades you as sweat beads on your forehead as you work. It has been unusually hot this time of year, normally summer would have already began to make way for autumn by this time past years. Which reminds you, you should probably try to down a few bucks before the end of the season this year. You don't want to be all out of food halfway through winter. Some deer could do you some good.

When you finally decide that the hole is deep enough, you drop your shovel and stretch. Cracking your back as you do so and letting out a yawn. After this you might just take a nap, you deserve it after all.

Turning back to the wheel barrow, you're finally ready. You loop your arms up under the corpse's armpits and pull him from the wheel barrow. He's a bit heavy and you nearly tip over as you drag him towards the hole. You curse yourself for letting him leave you with this part of the job time and time again. He's just like a little kid, refusing to put away his toys after playing. At the edge of the small pit you have the body off the edge and hear it drop to the bottom with a final thud.

You stare at the body in the hole. A bit disappointed, if you had to admit. The scene was just so un-picturesque. Of course, with you having to practically push after dragging, his nearly bloated corpse into the pit, didn't leave much room for the most graceful landing. His face is obscured by the soil that it's buried in, his hind quarters curled awkwardly towards the sky. More humiliating for the dead man than it is eye-catching to you. 

Oh well, time to dump the girlfriend in the pit.

Learning from your past mistakes, you grab the handles of the wheelbarrow in hopes that it would be easier to chuck the second body down the hole this way. After pushing it to the very edge of the pit, you are ready to lift the back end up, until you hear a quiet whimper break through the quiet sounds of nature surrounding you.

You stop cold in your tracks. 

She's still alive.

A strangled sob escapes her and your blood runs cold. This is a first. It's not like Feitan to leave any bodies breathing before leaving your cabin. " Help m-" she chokes on her words along with the blood she coughs up. What are you supposed to do? You're in broad daylight out in open, merely yards away from your cabin's garden. And you've never done this alone. She looks so much more frail with the sun reflecting on her pale sunken skin. When her clouded eyes meet yours, you all but keel over yourself. "You have to help me please."

Unable to break eye contact, you shake your head. "I can't." The woman looks almost ethereal, velvet red blood spilling over her violet bruised lips framed by skin so ghostly, it's practically translucent. As soon as you spoke, her brows knit themselves in distress. Her once comatose limbs rise out of the wheelbarrow like the undead breaking free from the earth. You stumble backwards, away from her as climbs out, you hastily grab your rifle from your back. "My boyfriend he-" on doe like legs she stumbles about looking around frantically until her eyes land on the pit. She drops to her knees. "No…"

You take a tentative step towards her, rifle still raised, as if she truly were a deer that you didn't want to scare off. She's crying, staring into the abyss of her late lover's grave. "What do I- he's gone. He's gone. What do I do?" She's in hysterics when she turns to you.

"Did you love him?" You don't know where the question comes from but it spills out of you none the less. You are met with a gaze you are unable to define. "I guess you could say, love someone too, " you tell her as you step closer to her. 

"Please, please help me." She begs once more. "If you- you say love someone so you- please I don't want to die." Weeping and barely comprehensible. You know what she's asking. She wants you to help her escape. She most likely believes that Feitan will return and make sure she shares her boyfriend's final resting place. And of course, she would need your help, there's no way she would be able to make it out of the forest herself, especially injured and lacking in supplies. 

Some might argue that it would be an act of mercy to allow death to take her instead, like a wounded deer needing to be put out of it's misery, instead of dropping her off at the nearest township.

You are also aware that if she were to ever make it out of these woods, the cabin would be compromised. Even if you were to swear, or scare, her to secrecy, there is no way she would not go seeking medical help, they would start asking questions. The most pressing being the whereabouts of her boyfriend. And that could lead to the authorities looking for Feitan. What if all of this lead to him not coming back to the cabin because he no longer saw it as safe anymore.

The barrel of the gun comes to rest in the middle of her forehead.

Realization hits her like a ton of bricks. Her blood and tear stained face contorts as she she shifts violently from the bargaining phase to anger. "No! You can't do this! You- you monster!"

A soft smile lands on your lips, "I know. But even monsters want to feel a connection." 

A blast rings through the forest. Birds flee from their trees and take to the sky. A corpse falls gracefully into its grave. And you are left with the image of the ethereal woman sprawled across their lover, the picture finally completed, made multitudes better as you stare down the hole at the ghastly image. It will make a lovely painting, you note to grab your sketchbook before night fall so you can capture the sight later.

For now, you take the handles of the wheelbarrow and turn it around, heading towards your cabin's modest garden. You can hear the mourning dove's song above you, as the birds have begun to return to the area after the gunshot rang out. 

The guilt that briefly weighed down your shoulders like a ton of bricks when you were first faced with killing the girl had passed now.You were able to rationalize it now. It was okay.

Sometimes, like doves, people were born to die.

[slocumjoe]

PLeaLSE gage headcanons LITERALLY ANYTHING fluffy I BEG

*cracks knuckles*

Separated into normal, shippy, and miserable. Everything nasty is below the big red banner.

Will whistle at songbirds when he sees them, if its safe to do so/won't attract anything. Knows a lot of different calls/songs. One of the few times a random person will see him genuinely smile, is when he gets a back-and-forth with the little things.

Have said before, but enjoys whittling. Crotchety asshole, but he did it to make toys for his younger siblings (of which he had a lot) and friends. If a kid wanders up while he's doing it, curious, will offer to teach them how and gives them whatever it becomes. He doesn't need it, it's just wood. But it seems a waste to just chuck all that work in a bush or whatever.

Knows how to be helpful in a kitchen/campfire/general cooking affairs. Also said this before, was a mama's boy, and always helped her around the house. Very good knifework. Has a habit of going 'behind' whenever he's...well, behind someone while cooking. Their kitchen was small and god forbid you bump into Ma and she spills something.

Knows a lot about creepy-crawlies. Dislikes your standard wasteland bugs, but spiders, bees, ants, stick bugs, etc, from the Old World? Like snakes, very into them. Would be the type to approach arachnaphobes with his hands closed, telling them to guess what he had. It would be nothing. But you wouldn't know that from his grin.

Related, good with animals. He was raised on a farm, after all. Likes most of them. Out of all of the other companions, Dogmeat is the one he likes the most.

Also have said before, but will keep an eye on a buddy/associate/whatever if they're drunk. Like, Gage won't let you walk off with a stranger while you're pissed. And he certainly won't let a stranger walk off with you, if you catch my drift. He hates alcohol and alcohol drinkers, but fuck, he doesn't want that kind of shit happening. It's a remenent of being the eldest child, gotta look out for everyone even if they're pissing you off.

shippy stuff

Extremely physical, but reserved. Won't initiate anything, not even to hold hands. Rarely acts like he needs/enjoys it. It takes time for Gage to be open like that, visibly affectionate. Once he is, though, clingy. Cuddle-every-night kind of guy, doesn't understand why you'd sleep in the same bed if not touching.

Cat-like. Will kinda...nuzzle, bump their foreheads together, lean his head on theirs, etc. If this is brought up he will stop doing it forever.

Will fall asleep if given a massage. Gage would let someone touch him like that only if he trusts them more than himself. Its not a much bigger leap for him to fall asleep with his back to them.

Preferred sleeping position is laying on his partner in some capacity, either on their shoulder, chest, stomach...again, cat-like. Not often he initiates affection, but once he does, personal space is a foreign concept.

Hug-from-behinder

All of these have something to do with sleeping, you might notice. Gage does not let people see him sleep, know where he does it. The ultimate sign of trust from Gage is being unconscious around them. And if he wakes up unharmed, unfucked with? It would take a fucking lot for that person to lose his loyalty and love. They're basically married now.

Seriously, Gage doesn't do 'downtime'. He can't relax like that. It's his partner's presence that helps him feel safe enough to rest for the sake of resting. Doing nothing is more meaningful to Gage than doing anything. Gage is always going, or planning his 'going'. Getting him to stop is a triumph.

Will share food with them. Have half of this fruit, eat the rest of this stew, finish these eggs for him. Won't even realize he's doing it. Gage is kind of a control freak, always wants to make sure everything is running well, taken care of.

His partner helping him shave his hair. Just consider that. Consider them with their hand on his jaw, tilting his head. His stubble scratches their fingers. Their hand is so close to his throat, they could feel his slow pulse with one little movement. In their other palm is a razor. They stand behind him, diligently scraping. His eye is closed, his own hands idle in his lap. Maybe someone talks, maybe they don't. The bathroom is small and the door is closed, and Porter Gage gives them sharp metal and bares his throat.

^ this is the lewdest, vilest, indecent, most embarrassing thing I've ever written, and I once wrote a fic where character A was described as using character B's prostate as a "character V deserves better" button.

❗trigger warnings start here❗

S/A victim and will not recognize, acknowledge, process, or accept it

Part of the thing with Conner...Gage says how Conner made him feel, how closely they worked together. Even if you get that story out of him, he's not going to mention just how close they would get.

Same thing happened with Colter. Gage always wants to be close to the boss, the guy making the choices. He thinks its of his own volition with Colter—but either way, Conner and Colter got theirs. Regardless how Gage felt about it.

Had something of a drinking problem when he was younger. Did it mostly to feel mature, adult. This stopped when he joined his second raider gang, after the Conner incident.

Every so often, has an episode of some kind. Angry, manic, depressed, paranoid—its very rare but Gage gets into these spells that last about a month. They usually involve him looking over his shoulder, so to speak, looking at the path he took to get where he is. Looking at the shadow he has and the demons in it. Thats largely why Gage is a workaholic, always going. If he stops, he might glance at all of the shit he's been through, and he loses his mind for a while. No one knows, it's wholly private. Gets through his day normally. Its all in his head, no external expression. Nothing in his face, his tone, movement, behavior...you couldn't never see it. You'd only know if he told you. God knows he wouldn't.

Another thing he won't acknowledge—misses his family. Absolute fucking liar, he was really close to them before bailing out of the blue one night. He didn't think about it until he almost died to Conner, and had that one moment where he seriously regretted leaving, and wanted to go home. He rarely ever thinks about his family, and even more rare does he recognize the empty hole in his chest as homesickness. When he does, has one of those episodes.

These episodes end with Gage hardening even further. He shaves off a little more of his humanity each time, whatever he considers a weakness. Its just like whittling.

His emotional walls are a two-way street—it keeps everyone else out to protect himself, but it also cages him. Build up enough walls, you have a labyrinth. You'll lose your way around eventually. If not found by a Sole, or anyone else who befriends and gets close to him, Gage would end in a bad fucking place. Whether dead or alive, he would barely be a person. Just a husk with no rhyme or reason to what it did, running purely on autopilot. He's a raider, so he raids things. No thought of survival or anything like that anymore. Mechanically going through each day until he eventually died. He's about 3/4s of the way through this internal withering at the time of the Nuka World DLC.

[m0ther-of-p3arl]

breathe be still

(robert aeor high au p8)

masterpost

part 8?!?!?! omg?!?!? ahhh sorry it's been awhile- i got stuck on part 9 and generally wait to post the next chapter until the one after it is done lmao- but uh yea enjoy!!! ALSO ALSO the return of jimmy pov >:D

“How is he kicking you out of the house and throwing a vase at your head- I’m sorry, how is that your fault? And I’m assuming you’re talking about your dad?” Jimmy’s appalled; what a horrific way to treat your child.

or, Scott's gone to Jimmy's and this is what happens next :0

TW: head injury, concussion, disowning, mentions of abuse and neglect, delirium, blood, etc.

(4906 words)

Jimmy has no idea what to do. He’s brought Scott upstairs to his bedroom and bundled him in blankets- he’s got a nasty cut on his face and he’s covered in ice for some reason, as well as a growing goose egg on his forehead. He’s calmed down a little bit since he came inside, just Jimmy’s presence seeming to ease him into himself a little. 

And now Jimmy’s downstairs with the kettle on to boil, frantically googling “what do you do when the boy you like comes to your house at 9:45 at night looking like he’s been beat up sobbing and covered in ice” and for some reason there are just no results, the internet failing him right when he needs it- hasn’t anyone else ever been in this situation before?

He supposes probably not, and all he can do right now is thank the gods or whatever’s up there that Beks’ parents aren’t home right now, and Bek herself can be persuaded to keep a secret. Jimmy leans against the countertop, picking at his feathers. What on earth is he supposed to do with this? Scott looks horrific, he has a terrible cut on his cheek and Jimmy tried to clean it up for him, but it’s almost like he’s delirious- he’s not making complete sense, his words quiet and childish, and Jimmy’s scared, scared for Scott and for whatever happened to him.

The steady whistle of the kettle crescendos to a keening scream, and he quickly lifts it off the burner, pouring the boiling water into two mugs. He plops in an orange spice tea bag for himself, and a mint one for Scott, because the gorgon loves everything mint-flavored, whether it’s synthetic or natural. Jimmy cracks open his freezer and puts two ice cubes into each cup, watching them slowly melt away into the water, the steam slowly decreasing until there’s none, just the cups of liquid sitting silently on the countertop.

Jimmy sighs and picks them up, ascending the stairs and haphazardly opening the door to his room, both cups clutched in one hand. Scott’s huddled on Jimmy’s bed, the comforter pulled around him like he’s a cat, his face the only part visible. His head pokes up when the door creaks open, fear creasing across his features, eyes wide and mouth half-open in an unspoken yell until he realizes it’s Jimmy.

“Oh, it’s just you.” Scott visibly relaxes, his snakes shaking the now-melted ice off themselves.

“Just me,” Jimmy agrees, walking forward to sit next to Scott on the bed. “I have tea for you, it’s mint.”

“Mint’s my favorite,” Scott mutters, reaching out for the teacup. Jimmy plops it into his hands, and Scott breathes in the smell for a couple of seconds, eyes closed, before taking in a  big drought, both hands still wrapped around the ceramic surface as he drinks.

“I know it is, that’s why I chose it,” Jimmy explains, taking a small sip himself. “So, uh…why are you here?���

Scott shivers. “I did a bad thing.”

“...What do you mean?” Jimmy asks, concern probably showing plainly on his face.

“I mean I yelled at him. And he said ‘no, you’re no son of mine,’ and then he threw a vase at me and said, ‘get out!’. So I got out. And this is the place I came to.” 

“How is he kicking you out of the house and throwing a vase at your head- I’m sorry, how is that your fault? And I’m assuming you’re talking about your dad?” Jimmy’s appalled; what a horrific way to treat your child. Sure, Patty would get mad sometimes, but she never was genuinely abusive- or he doesn’t think she was. Jimmy supposes he wouldn’t really know. But the gorgon’s voice is shaking, and Jimmy can tell he’s not entirely in his right mind; if he had to guess, he’d say that Scott probably has a decent-sized concussion.

“B-because I’m the one who made him angry,” Scott says, staring into his mug, covered in water. “He got mad that I had a phone and he got mad that I was talking to you because you wear dresses, and I said, ‘that’s what makes him comfortable, shouldn’t you wear what makes you comfortable?’ and Father said no, and he said you were gay and that was bad, but what he didn’t know is that I’m the one who’s gay and I told him I was and he- he said to get out. 

“So I got out but not fast enough and he threw a vase at my head, and now I’m a-alone, and I didn’t have anywhere else to go-” Scott’s shaking even harder now, his eyes clouding up with fear. Jimmy feels so bad for him, it must be terrible to be kicked out of your home by someone you’ve known your whole life- at least Jimmy had chosen to leave, at least he hadn’t been evicted. Also- he feels terrible for thinking about this in this moment, but Scott’s gay?! That’s a bit of a revalation- and one that works in Jimmy’s favor.

“Shh, hey, it’s okay, you’re safe now, I’m here,” he says, putting down his almost untouched cup of tea and scooching closer to Scott, wrapping his arm around the shivering mass of blankets. “It’s not your fault. I don’t think any of this is your fault- I think your dad is a bad person who feels bad about himself, so he takes it out on you and other people too. If you don’t mind me asking, why did you come to me, exactly? Doesn’t Owen live a lot closer, like on the same street kind of closer?”

“I don’t mind,” Scott breathes in, obviously trying to calm himself. “Owen has, like, fifteen sisters, and he is my best friend, but I just think I felt like it would be safer to go to you. I dunno. And I couldn’t go to Shelby’s because her house is too small, also it’s miles away, even further than yours. Plus it’s Gnome New Year and I don’t want to intrude on that, it’s like her favorite thing.”

“And Joel?” Jimmy prompts, trying to keep Scott talking so he can gauge the level of damage, particularly the cut on Scott’s cheek and the bruise that’s slowly spreading all over his forehead.

“Joel’s parents h-hate me. They always have, and her sister thinks I’m a terrible person. I don’t like her. She reminds me of Father.”

“Okay, I guess that makes sense.” Jimmy reaches a hand towards Scott’s head, and the gorgon scoots away. “Oh, sorry- I should’ve asked, do you mind if I take a look at your head? We might need to use an ice pack.”

Scott relaxes. “Sure, I can make one.”

“What do you mean, ‘make one’?” Now Jimmy’s confused, furrowing his brow in a way that apparently looks quite funny, because Scott laughs, the tiniest grin Jimmy’s ever seen ghosting across his face for a split second.

“I probably should’ve told you this sooner- can I have like a wet washcloth?”

“Sure,” Jimmy says, standing up and walking to the bathroom, grabbing the cloth from the hanger and running it momentarily through the water that seeps from the faucet before returning to Scott. 

“Thanks,” he mutters, grabbing the sopping cloth and lifting his shades.

Jimmy only has a moment to realize how gorgeous Scott is when you can see his whole face, how much his eyes shine in the dark room, the bright cyan almost glowing against his skin- his snake-like slit pupils that are for whatever reason just extremely attractive. And then something flashes within them and suddenly, the washcloth is frozen stiff, ice coating the wet fabric.

“What the-” Jimmy’s own, unspecial, eyes widen, because since when can Scott freeze things with his eyes? Since when is this a thing that someone who isn’t an ice celestial might possibly be able to do- and even they freeze things with their touch, not their vision, as Jimmy’s learnt from Aimee, another of Beks’ friends.

“That’s why I have to wear my shades even though I can’t petrify,” Scott explains, pushing them back up, over his eyes, and shoving the almost solid block of ice towards his head before Jimmy catches his hand, stopping Scott dead in his tracks.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he says, very aware of the fact that Scott’s staring at him with gorgeous eyes that drive a spike into his middle even through the glasses. “A giant block of ice isn’t gonna do anything. Can I?” Scott nods, looking away, and Jimmy takes the washcloth, holding it tightly in his hands for a few seconds until the ice begins to slightly melt.

“I might need to touch your snakes,” Jimmy warns Scott. “I’ll try my best not to, but it might happen and you gotta know that so it doesn’t come as a surprise.”

Scott nods, muttering something Jimmy can’t quite make out. “What did you say?” he asks, still pretty unsure of how to go about ice packing Scott’s head, his hands hovering awkwardly.

“I said, I don’t care if you accidentally touch my snakes; so long as it’s you, it doesn’t matter,” Scott says slightly louder, looking anywhere but Jimmy. And he isn’t sure, but he thinks there’s a slight redness spreading across Scott’s cheeks- and that just brings Jimmy back to this morning, when he’d walked down the stairs in his dress and Scott had been there, total jumpscare, with he same blush adorning his face.

He can’t help but remember how the gorgon had looked at him like there was no one else in the world, like tunnel vision- and if he’s completely honest, he hadn’t really needed a backrub at the movie theater; it would have calmed him down just as much to simply brush his hair, and he'd had a brush with him just for that very reason.

But Jimmy’s a selfish person and he wanted a backrub from his crush.

“Jimmy,” Scott says, bringing him out of his thoughts, “My head hurts.” Jimmy’s eyebrows crease, and he moves forward, finally bringing the cold washcloth to Scott’s forehead with one hand, looping the other around to the backside of his head to support.

“I know it hurts, I think you’ve got a concussion,” Jimmy says, shaking out his wings. “I should really get you to a doctor, huh.”

Scott shakes his head suddenly and violently, wincing at the motion. “No. I don’t want to see a doctor. I don’t like doctors, all they’ve ever done is try to fix me and I don’t want to be fixed.” There’s genuine fear in his face, the kind that only comes from experience.

“O-okay,” Jimmy agrees, slightly taken aback by the outburst. “That’s… fine, then, I guess. But you need to keep your head still or it’ll just make it worse.” Scott mutters consent, and Jimmy reassumes his position, pressing the frozen cloth against Scott’s temple. They sit like that for a while, Scott still huddled in his blankets, Jimmy crouching next to him, very aware of the way his thumb is resting on Scott’s cheek, the skin soft and cold. And then Scott’s eyes flick momentarily in his direction, and suddenly a rope is connecting his and Scott’s minds, glowing and strong and-

For a split second, Jimmy feels like he’s somewhere else, a place that feels at once familiar and completely wrong. He’s in a movie theater, just a little kid, walking by the side of a much taller man. He knows instinctively that the man is his father, a person he admires and hopes to be just like one day. They’re going to see a new thirty-minute movie, a weekly tradition that he loves because it’s one of the only times he’s allowed to be with Father. 

And then the vision is gone, leaving him shaken and confused- he’s not sure if Scott’s seen it too, if the shock on the gorgon’s face is just his own imagination playing tricks on him or if something really did just happen- and if so, how? Neither of them bring it up, though- because Jimmy absolutely doesn’t want Scott thinking he’s crazy. So he keeps his mouth shut and continues pressing the ice to Scott’s forehead.

“How old are you?” The gorgon breaks the silence with the strangest question imaginable; has Jimmy really never told him that?

“I thought you knew,” Jimmy says, momentarily lifting the washcloth from Scott’s head so he can see him better. “I’m sixteen, I turn seventeen this August.”

“You’re almost a year younger than me,” Scott notices, looking Jimmy in the eyes in such a way that makes the avian shiver slightly, because Scott is so good-looking, the cyan of his snakes and irises piercing and just very…

Well. Scott’s a lot. In a good way, but he’s just hard to look at sometimes because of the way Jimmy’s stomach turns. He’s had a crush on Scott almost since the day they met, it developed within a week and now he’s fallen hard, deeply infatuated with a boy who’ll never like him back. But god, he’s just so… 

When it comes to Scott, there are no words.

And the worst part is, Jimmy doesn’t think he knows how gorgeous he is, how much he flusters Jimmy whenever he even looks in his direction. It’s infuriating, the way that he’s 

“Sixteen?” Scott asks, shaking off the comforter a little bit, his clothes soaked through. “You look older. You’re very pretty for sixteen.” He looks away at the last words, blushing slightly. Jimmy’s definitely not imagining that this time- oh, god, Scott must be so delirious right now, probably doesn’t even know what he’s saying.

“Um… thank you,” Jimmy says, his own cheeks probably red-hot at this point as he fidgets with the hem of his nightgown nervously. “You’re really nice-looking too, actually.” Oh, god, what is he saying, he’s so hopeless-

Scott turns in his direction, cheeks still flushed but seemingly determined to keep this conversation from going awkward. “Do you have anything for me to wear? I’m cold, my clothes are all wet.”

“Um, I guess you can borrow some of my pajamas, the only things I have are nightgowns though.”

“That’s fine, I’ve always wanted to wear more dresses but Father wouldn’t let me,” Scott explains, making to stand up.

“Oh, no, mister, you are not going anywhere. I’ll show you the options and then leave so you can get changed, okay?” Jimmy admonishes, shaking his finger and standing up off the bed, pulling open the sliding bamboo door to his closet and leafing through his garments. He’s pretty certain that he and Scott are about the same size, the gorgon’s only a couple inches taller and they have about the same build: slim and short.

Jimmy pulls off three of his comfiest nightgowns, one a deep maroon red fabric, silky and not very warm, but very nice for summer nights; one is bright purple, very fluffy and warm; but the last is Jimmy’s favorite of all, a light blue nightgown made of a soft cottony fabric, not too smothering but not too cold. And just as anticipated, when he shows them to Scott, the gorgon immediately points to the blue.

“Can I wear that one?” he asks, running his fingers along the fabric, seemingly infatuated with the texture of the soft fabric.

“Yeah, course,” Jimmy agrees, hanging up the other two back in his closet. “I’m gonna go get some food while you get changed, you can also take a quick shower if you need.”

“You don’t have scale grease though,” Scott points out, “So I wouldn’t be able to wash off my snakes.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Jimmy concedes, plopping back down on the bed momentarily, leaning up against Scott. “But it might be nice to just get warm again, right? You felt ice cold.”

Scott laughs silently. “I’m always ice cold. It’s part of the whole thing.”

“Sure. But still.” Jimmy doesn’t press it, but he makes certain that Scott knows if he wants to warm up, he has the option to. Then he makes his way downstairs, giving the gorgon a quick, supportive hug- because let’s be honest, Scott’s probably just had the worst day of his life, and he needs it.

But oh god this situation is so- Jimmy squeaks a tiny scream under his breath because ARGH.

As soon as he gets downstairs, he lets out an almighty groan and falls down onto the couch, limbs splayed every which way. What on earth is he doing? Scott can’t stay here, Laura and John would never allow it, they were even a little on the fence about taking Jimmy in. 

But where else does Scott go? Jimmy can’t stand to see him so hurt, physically and mentally. He’s certain the gorgon’s delirious, at least to some capacity, and he doesn’t know what to do, because Scott doesn’t want to go to a hospital and Jimmy can’t drive anyway, also his phone’s out of battery and they don’t have a landline, so there’s none of that.

Plus, if he’s honest, he’s genuinely kind of flattered that Scott came to him over any of his other friends. He hadn’t thought they were that close, but apparently, Scott genuinely trusts him, and that makes Jimmy happy- not Scott’s situation, that part’s horrific, but he’s glad that what he said the first day they met really sunk in.

There’s just… so much to digest. Scott’s gay. Scott’s gay so technically, Jimmy stands a chance, though he can’t see what someone like Scott could ever possibly see in him, just a short, awkward little avian who can’t do anything right- and of course there is the fact that Jimmy’s just a curious little bird.

And it’s back, Patty’s voice is back, ringing in his ears- god fucking damnit, he hasn’t heard it all day- a part of him, a small part, has hoped that maybe, just maybe, it’ll be gone for good. He knows it’s silly to ever imagine that he’ll be free, that there will be a day when he won’t have to hide from the ghosts of his past, but he can’t help but hope- because all Jimmy wants is to be a normal kid, all he wants is to be safe and to fit in and have friends.

And now he’s finally found people who care about him, people who can be bothered to actually spend time with him (with the exception of Owen), and he loves them all so much: The way Shelby’s so kind to everyone but Joel, the way Joel pretends to take offense at all the little things but loves all of them so much anyway, the way Scott sits quietly in the backseat of the van, only half-listening to the conversation, before chiming in spontaneously, saying something so funny and deadpan that the rest of them keel over laughing.

Scott is… Scott is the kind of person Jimmy’s needed to meet for a very long time. He can’t imagine his life without the gorgon anymore, without his dry smiles and calm disposition and the emotional underside that Jimmy knows broils underneath, sharp and cutting and wishing for something more.

The only time Jimmy’s ever felt this way about someone was when Patty took him out for the first time, to the zoo in his old town, and he’d kissed a boy by the lion exhibit. Blue eyes and with the same bearing Scott has, but with more youthful exuberance, more of a wild side.

Jimmy’s wondered about that boy for a long time, and he pops into his head again as he grabs a bag of leftover samosas from the fridge, ascending the stairs and knocking briskly on his bedroom door. “Scott? You good? I brought food, can I come in?”

“Yeah, I’m dressed- I also made your bed, by the way.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have done that.” Jimmy turns the doorknob, pushing open the entrance to his room. Sure enough, there’s Scott, tucked in on one side of Jimmy’s bed, all Jimmy’s blankets spread evenly atop of the gorgon.

“I wanted to be useful,” Scott mutters, Jimmy handing him a samosa as he tucks himself into bed as well. 

“You were useful, but you also have a beast of a concussion. Did you clean your cuts too?” Jimmy adds, lifting up a finger to trace along the previously dark red slash on Scott’s cheek, now just a lighter shade of his skin tone, a slight pink peeking out from the inside of the cut.

Scott nods, and doesn’t resist Jimmy’s touch, instead flopping down against the pillows propped up against the back of the bed, head turned towards Jimmy, curiosity written on his features. “What was it like when you were a little kid? Did you ever do anything fun?”

“Hardly,” Jimmy laughs darkly, memories of the same rooms and the same house and the same people flashing through his mind. “I mean, I suppose there was one time when I went to the zoo.”

“What happened?” Scott’s invested now, Jimmy can tell.

“Well, I was seven or eight, and Patty, my guardian, was taking me to the zoo for the first time. Of course, I was super excited; I wanted to make friends and look at giraffes and all that kind of stuff. So she drove me there, and while we were looking at the orangutans, this boy, maybe a little older than me, came over from where his school was on a field trip and just straight-up asked if I wanted to be friends.

“Obviously, I said yes. I was so excited- I was really little, remember, so my wings hadn’t even fully grown yet. I don’t think he was fully matured yet either, as I couldn’t see any distinguishing features on him- he was wearing a hat, though, so I guess that could’ve covered horns or snakes or something. But anyway, I kinda ditched Patty to walk around with this boy, and then when we were in front of the lion exhibit, I dunno, he was kinda like, ‘Do you wanna kiss?’

“And I said, ‘Sure, why not?’ Because we were little, and everyone kisses someone when they’re little, just to kinda see, you know, what’ll happen. And so, we kissed, right? And I really don’t remember it that much but after that, I got really spooked and ran away just kinda left the boy in the dust, I could hear him calling after me but I didn’t respond because I was scared that Patty would be mad with me for interacting to such an extent with another person. And that’s, um, that’s about it, really.” 

He’s expected to hear something more from Scott, so he’s slightly surprised when the gorgon doesn’t respond to his story at all. Jimmy turns in his direction and immediately recognizes the look on his face- an unbelieving stare full of questions that haven’t been answered.

“W-was the zoo in Laurentown?” Scott’s practically shaking, his eyes wide and confused.

“How did you know?” A suspicion is growing in Jimmy’s mind, but that’s not a possibility, there’s just no way- what are the chances, how would that even happen?

“I kissed a boy at the zoo in Laurentown when I was little.” Scott’s voice is hushed, trailing off as his eyes meet Jimmy’s. “I’ve w-wanted to find him ever since.”

Oh, god. There’s no way, this can’t be happening- but he’s leaning into the hope that maybe it is, maybe something’s brewing, maybe the truth was right under their noses the whole time.

“Me too,” Jimmy confesses, his heart beating out of control in his chest, the three feet separating him and Scott feeling like miles.

There’s really nothing to do except close the distance. Scott crawls across the bed towards Jimmy until their faces are close enough that the gorgon can reach out a hand to touch Jimmy’s face, cupping his cheek, cold and deep and real. Jimmy shivers, both from the touch and the frozen feel of Scott’s skin. 

“I’ve missed you.” Scott’s voice is quieter than Jimmy’s ever heard it, and he has to remind himself that this is not his fairytale moment, Scott has a serious concussion and probably isn’t in his right mind, he really shouldn’t be letting this happen, but he needs to see-

Scott leans forwards and kisses him, quick and soft and too sudden for Jimmy to register anything other than the coldness of Scott’s lips, the chill of his skin in general, a direct contrast to Jimmy’s warm temperature. It’s only a moment, only a split second, and then it’s over and Scott smiles quietly at him, his eyes bright and hopeful, crawling back to his side of the bed.

Within a minute, Scott’s fallen fast asleep, Jimmy still petrified still in the same spot he’s been, the imprint of Scott’s hand still cold on his cheek, too shocked to do anything more than sit for a couple minutes. Then he sighs, resigned and shaking and not even sure how he’s feeling right now, and flops down on the other side of his bed, pushing his hands into his face with his wings spread akimbo. 

This is not good. This is not good at all. 

I mean, obviously Jimmy’s ecstatic that the boy he likes kissed him: that part goes without saying. But Scott’s delirious, he’s not in his right mind, anything he says could be a false memory, or something he thinks is true but isn’t- Jimmy doesn’t even know if he’s telling the truth about the kissing a boy at the zoo thing. But if so… he won’t let himself hope.

Jimmy’s been wondering what it would be like if he met the boy again for a long, long time, and now it turns out that potentially, zoo boy and Scott are the same person? That’s crazy. No, that’s actually insane. He lies there in silence for a couple more minutes before realizing that he’s been so caught up in all this that he’s forgotten to turn off the lights; Jimmy hops out of his bed, his gaze resting briefly on the gorgon snoring peacefully beside him, and flicks his finger across the light switch, darkness washing over his room.

He stumbles back to his bed and tucks in, pulling the blankets up above his head, his back pressed up against Scott’s. They really shouldn’t be sharing; Jimmy only has a small double bed and there really isn’t enough room. Plus, you’d think that having another person under the blankets would make it warmer, but Scott’s absolutely freezing. He’s warming up, but slowly, and Jimmy shivers, the cold stealing warmth from his body.

But he can’t have Scott sleeping on the couch, the gorgon has what looks like a beastly concussion, and Jimmy sure as hell isn’t gonna be sleeping on another couch in his life. He’s had enough of that back when he lived with Patty.

A part of him wonders why she hasn’t tried to contact him, wonders if she ever really loved him. Then he laughs, a dry snort that brings him back to his senses. She never loved Jimmy. She was rude and neglectful and only nice to him when he obeyed her, when he did what she wanted.

At least she’d let him wear dresses, though, even if it was only at home. The few times they went out, Jimmy remembers how he had to wear a giant hoodie to hide his bird-like features so Patty could pass as his mom, even in the heat of summer. Jimmy knows she’s still out there somewhere, knows he’ll probably have to see her again someday, whether it be in court or because she’s found him again, but it’s just oh so much easier to pretend she doesn’t exist.

His arms are resting behind his head, his wings tucked in closer so as not to disturb Scott, sleeping soundly besides him. Jimmy turns his head, his eyes following the gorgon’s back as it goes up and down with every breath, rhythmic and calm. Even his snakes are still, emitting quiet hisses every now and then, but other than that, not a sound comes from Scott- the snoring from earlier gone as if it’s evaporated.

If he concentrates, he can still feel the cold of Scott’s lips on his own, still feel the imprint of the hand on his cheek.

Goodness gracious.

Jimmy supposes he should get to sleep- though it’s a Saturday today, so no school tomorrow, he’ll have a lot of explaining to do anyhow. John and Laura are not going to be pleased that he has a boy sleeping in his bed- but maybe if he explains well enough, they’ll see how bad Scott’s situation is and let him stay for a little while.

He sighs deeply, stretching out his wings. As he does so, Scott turns in his sleep and grabs Jimmy around the middle like a little rag doll. Jimmy stiffens, the touch flipping over and over in his stomach. Cautiously, he moves his hands atop of Scott’s, both pairs resting comfortably around his waist. He needs to sleep, but he’s never felt more alive than right now.

It’s going to be a long fucking night.

[lavendertownfreak]

Since this little guy lives in the cemetery and is basically in charge of maintaining the flowers in the garden around Mr. Fuji’s memorial (and some trainers ask what this guy is when they try to challenge the gym), I thought I’d introduce yall to one of my stranger buddies (though not as strange as Korbo).

This is Egg! Found him on a little expedition gym leader Blue payed Vi and I to join him on (the gym leaders we’re buddies with are weird) that went to document the presence of some thought to be extinct Pokemon that allegedly (and genuinely do) live in the area around the Sinnjoh Ruins. Met this little flower bomb pretty much immediately on arrival. Started following us around and then proceeded to effectively catch themself! Don’t know what compelled me to name them Egg… Unlike the other “extinct” mon I caught there, Blue let me take Egg back to Lavender Town. Now their job is to spread flowers around the garden, and we even sometimes have people request Egg plant flowers around the graves of their departed. He’s probably one of the most well loved by the community Pokemon that work in the graveyard (funny given the fact that Egg’s kin were considered pests in their day). IDK if Blue ever published our findings, since Unown are really fuckin common there and have this nasty habit of making space-time go all fucky (meaning the very limited populations we found could just as easily by Unown sourced anomalies as they could be living populations [not to mention the fact that most of our spotted species were one offs with the exception of Voltorb interestingly enough]). So yeah! If you see Egg rolling around the graveyard, say hi! They’re super friendly and social, and almost definitely won’t try and explode in your face! (Don’t plug the hole though, Egg will get stressed and explode on the spot if you do.) They’re really not much of a battler (though they do like watching gym battles given that they happen in the garden), but I’ll give their set below:

Nature: Jolly

Ability: Seed Sower

Moves: Stun Spore/Energy Ball/Charge Beam/Rain Dance

If any of you people are interested, I might just make a post about the Sinnjoh expedition. We found some weird shit.

[momwithdog]

11 Tried and Tested Remedies for Preventing Fleas in Dogs

If there is anything that pet owners dread and loathe in equal measure, it is fleas. These nasty insects thrive on the blood of mammals, and dogs who love frisking about and rolling in grass become susceptible hosts to these blood-sucking parasites. Once they find their way to your pet’s skin and into your home, getting rid of them can be an arduous task. That’s why you must teach yourself about preventing fleas in dogs.

The adage prevention is better than cure couldn’t ring truer than it does for keeping your pet flea-free. But how exactly do you do that? Here is a complete guide on flea control for dogs to help you get started.

How to Check Your Dog for Fleas

Even with the best flea control measures in place, you cannot rule out the possibility of these pesty little creatures finding their way to your dog’s skin and latching on. While one-odd flea on your dog’s skin isn’t typically a cause for concern, as long as you have effective preventive measures in place, it’s still important to keep an eye out for their presence.

So, along with trying to figure out “how to keep fleas off my dog”, you also need to ask, “How do I check my dog for fleas?” Here are a few ways:

Look for physical signs of flea bites: If your dog is scratching more than usual, has red, inflamed bumps on their skin, you notice bald patches in their fur, or pale gums (a sign of anemia), pay attention. These are all symptoms of flea infestation and warrant further investigation

Inspect your dog’s body and fur: A thorough inspection of your dog’s fur becomes imperative if you notice any of the above-mentioned symptoms. But even if you don’t, it’s advisable to examine your pet’s coat from time to time. To do so, run your fingers through your dog’s fur, moving against the grain of hair. Since fleas move fast, you may not be able to catch them if it’s only one-odd, but you may be able to feel bite marks or bumps on the skin. However, if it is an infestation, you may actually be able to feel the fleas in your dog’s coat with your hands

Use a flea comb: Whether you discover a few unusual marks on your dog’s body that warrant further investigation or uncover a nasty infestation, the next order of business is to get those blood-sucking parasites off your pet. Flea combs are your best ally in this quest. Manually searching for fleas can be tedious, time-consuming, and a little gross, but these fine-tooth combs make the job much easier. Just comb through diligently, covering every inch of your pet’s coat, and repeat for a few days to make sure you get them all

Look for tell-tale signs around the house: Flea dirt — tiny black specks that look a lot like ground black pepper — caught in your dog’s hair or falling off it, flea eggs — tiny white granules that look a lot like grains of rice — in places where your dog typically sits of sleeps are also tell-tale markers of an infestation. To confirm your suspicion, you can set a light trap at night — leaving a dish filled with soapy water near a night light. Once it gets dark, fleas will jump toward the light and fall into the water dish. The next morning, you will have conclusive proof of whether or not your dog has a flea problem

Tried and Tested Ways of Preventing Fleas in Dogs

Now that we’ve covered the importance of flea control for dogs and ways to ascertain whether you need to take steps in that direction, let’s talk about how to do it right. From natural flea control for dogs to accessories that repel these pesty insects and flea and tick medication, there are lots of different ways to protect your pet from this nuisance.  

How to prevent fleas on dogs naturally – Home remedies

If you’re looking for the best flea prevention approach, several home remedies can prove effective. Let’s take a look at how to prevent fleas on dogs naturally:

Note: Please consult your vet before using any of these home remedies for preventing fleas in dogs to make sure you don’t end up doing more harm than good.

1. Essential oils

Essential oils of eucalyptus, tea tree, rosemary, citronella, and peppermint are excellent for natural flea control for dogs. However, since these oils are highly concentrated, you must dilute them appropriately. This is particularly crucial when using essential oils like tea tree, which in its original form can be immensely toxic to dogs. The right way to use essential oils is to add a few drops to about 400 ml of water. If your dog is comfortable with it, you can use a spray bottle to drizzle this solution all over your pet’s coat and let it dry. It’s advisable to check with your vet before using this solution if the problem is already aggravated and your pet is suffering from flea allergy dermatitis.

2. Apple cider vinegar and sea salt spray

How to keep fleas off my dog for good, you ask? Here is an effective remedy you can try: apple cider vinegar and sea salt spray. Apple cider vinegar is effective in balancing the pH levels of your dog’s skin, thus making it an unsustainable host for fleas. To make this spray, add four cups of water in six cups of apple cider vinegar, and top it up with a dash of sea salt. Use a spray bottle to get it all over your dog’s coat, moving against the grain of hair to get to the skin. Avoid contact with eyes and ears. 

3. Lemon bath

Lemon bath is a front-runner for natural flea control for dogs. To make a lemon bath, squeeze half a cup of freshly squeezed lemon juice and dilute it with two cups of water. Then, mix it with your dog’s shampoo and apply it. Who knew a readily available kitchen ingredient could be the key to keeping your dog flea-free?

4. Rosemary flea dip

Another simple answer to how to prevent fleas on dogs naturally is a Rosemary flea dip. Steep fresh rosemary leaves in a pot of boiling water, strain the mixture, and then either allow it to cool or add some water to it to bring down the temperature. Then pour the solution over your down and let it dry.

5. Neem oil

Neem oil, which acts as a natural insect repellent, is a great choice for topical flea prevention that few pet parents know about. Although it is native to sub-tropical regions like India and Sri Lanka, it’s not hard to find packaged multi-purpose neem oil online or in large department stores anywhere in the world. You can apply this oil directly to your pet’s coat, make a spray out of it by diluting it with water, or mix it in your dog’s shampoo, et voila! There couldn’t be a more effective natural flea control for dogs.

6. Coconut oil

Among the natural ways of preventing fleas in dogs is the elixir of oils — coconut oil. Rub it directly on your dog’s coat, making sure it seeps down to the skin, to repel fleas and their pestier cousins, ticks. You can even add a teaspoon of virgin coconut oil to your dog’s food to not just prevent fleas but also internal parasites. Given its antifungal, antiviral, and antibacterial properties, coconut oil can contribute immensely to promoting good health.

7. Brewer’s yeast

Accessories for tick and flea prevention

While natural remedies for flea prevention are effective, they may not be everyone’s cup of tea. If you’re wondering, “How to keep fleas off my dog without homemade flea dips, sprays, and solutions?”, there is a wide variety of packaged products you can choose from. Let’s take a look at some of the most effective ones, so you don’t spend hours staring at an endless array of products, wondering how to choose the right flea-prevention product for your dog:

8. Flea collar

Flea collars are one of the most effective and popular choices for preventing fleas in dogs. These are made of polymer matrix and infused with active ingredients — imidacloprid for fleas and flumethrin for ticks — which are consistently released to disorient insects and make them stop feeding on your pet’s blood. If you’re looking for a single solution for flea and tick prevention, a collar can be a great choice. These are known to reduce flea count by up to 95%.

9. Flea comb

If despite all preventive measures, your pet does come down with a flea problem, a flea-comb is the most recommended method of dealing with it. This fine-tooth comb effectively removes fleas and their eggs from dogs’ coats.

10. Flea shampoo

A flea shampoo is also a popular way of preventing fleas in dogs. These shampoos contain active ingredients that form a layer form a protective layer on your dog’s skin, killing fleas on contact.

11. Flea prevention medication

Sometimes, despite the best flea prevention measures, you may find that your pet’s coat has been infested. If this leads to health complications such as an allergic reaction, a rash, dermatitis, or in extreme cases, anemia or tapeworm infection, topical flea prevention methods may no longer prove effective. In that case, you need to consult a vet and seek oral flea medication, along with any other treatments the doctor may prescribe, and follow through on it.

How to Prevent Fleas in the House

Along with keeping your dog flea-free, it becomes equally important to ensure that these insects don’t find a breeding ground in your home. Once they start nesting in the furnishings around the house — sofas, beds, curtains, bed linen, carpets, and so on — it can be hard to prevent them from making their way to your pet’s body. Besides, flea bites can be harmful to humans as well. So, while treating your dog for fleas, you must also take measures to rid your home of them. Here is how to prevent fleas in the house:

Machine wash and tumble dry the furnishings: Wash all the furnishings your dog comes in contact with and then tumble dry them thoroughly. While labor-intensive, this is an effective answer to how to prevent fleas in the house

Steam clean what you can’t wash: Carpets, sofa upholstery, etc can be hard to wash or the material they are made of may not be fit for washing at all. In such cases, steam cleaning can help in flea removal from the house

Thorough vacuuming: Follow this up with thorough vacuuming. However, fleas can escape and find their way back into their hiding spots around the house as soon as the cleaning bag of the vacuum cleaner is opened. It’s best to either empty these bags outside or dip them in water so that any fleas trapped inside are killed instantly.  

Try DIY solutions:  DIY solutions such as sprinkling baking soda or salt in the areas where fleas are likely to nest can also be the answer to how to prevent fleas in the house. You can also use a lemon spray — prepared the same way as you would use it on your dog’s fur — around the house to kill and repel fleas 

Set up a flea trap: Another way of ridding your home of fleas is to set a flea trap by leaving a dish filled with soapy water near a night light. Once it gets dark, fleas will jump toward the light and fall into the water dish

Preventing fleas in dogs is always a smarter choice than struggling with the consequences of an infestation. From checking your pet for fleas regularly to adopting preventive measures at the first hint of the presence of these insects, and getting them the right medical attention at the right time in case an infestation takes hold, I’ve laid it all down for you. Follow through, and you and your pet will be happier for it.

Ref:- https://momwithdog.com/preventing-fleas-in-dogs/

[sugawarassoulmate]

osamu x bad boy 🍑?

The way im obsessed with this man actually,,

Congratulations for 3k!!!! 🎉👏

sorry for the wait 🥺 kinda based it off this ask i did a bit ago!

words: 993

cw: fem!reader, fingering, dubcon, bully!osamu, name-calling, minors dni

for as long as you could remember, atsumu warned you to steer clear of his brother. osamu, he was as nasty as they come and nobody knew that better than you. how could you forget all the hair pulling or bruises from getting shoved off of bikes and scooters? as much as you tried to stay away from him, osamu always seemed to find you.

that’s probably how you ended up in this situation.

osamu had interrupted the movie night you and atsumu had planned for days—he plopped himself on the couch, knee brushing against yours, completely taking up the rest of the space. atsumu rolled his eyes, muttering in your ear to “ignore him” while the movie kept playing.

usually that was easier said than done, osamu loves to make his presence known. but today he seemed to be on his best behavior. he wasn’t shifting around in his seat every five minutes or bickering with his brother over his stupid comments about the movie. he sat perfectly still, keeping his hands mostly to himself.

except for the hand gripping your thigh.

atsumu was too busy babbling about how iron man was obviously better than captain america to take notice of what his brother was doing underneath the blanket. you tried to remember his words “ignore him” but that only seemed to egg osamu on further.

you can feel his fingers traveling up your inner thigh, lightly scratching at the sensitive skin. instinctively, your legs tense up and clamp around his rough hand. pushing him away won’t do much, so you let him play with you a bit and hope that he’ll get bored and go upstairs.

but it’s never that easy with him and osamu’s hand easily finds itself slipped underneath the waistband of your shorts. your head shoots up, turning in osamu’s direction but he pays you no mind. his hand cups your pussy like it’s normal thing for him to do. you can feel your face heating up, squirming between the two boys.

“ya good, y/n? we can watch somethin’ else,” atsumu said, noticing how quiet you had become. you hands immediately go in your lap, hoping that he won’t catch what his brother is doing. but damn them and their weird twin telepathy, he definitely senses something is off. “is he botherin’ you again?”

“no one’s botherin’ anyone, worry about yerself, dumbass.” osamu snaps back, eyes still on the screen.

you could tell atsumu was ready to argue back but you gave him a small smile to quell his anger. “i’m fine, let’s keep watching,” atsumu’s mood doesn’t falter but your words seem to do enough to settle him back into his seat. his phone starts buzzing and he groans after seeing the words on the screen.

“ah shit, kita-san’s callin’, i’ll be right back,” he grumbles, brown eyes flicking at his brother. “tell me if he starts some shit.” atsumu warns before stepping out of the room. it only takes osamu, impatient as ever, a few moments alone with you before he has you pinned to the couch, calloused fingers bullying their way into your cunt.

“yer not as tight as before,” he says, tugging down your shorts and leaving your entire bottom half bare for him. “ya gettin’ used to me touchin’ ya like this? such a dirty fuckin’ girl, what would my brother say, huh?”

atsumu was the last person on your mind, his warnings to “stay away” from his brother meant nothing when osamu’s hands were on you. “samu, he could come back any second…” but you’re making no effort to stop him, grinding against osamu’s hand and gasping into the couch cushion.

“let me worry about that, idiot. just focus on gettin’ off without makin’ too much noise,” he grunts against your ear, palm teasing your clit as he hovers on top of you. you’re not sure what’s more embarrassing, the sound your cunt makes as your walls constrict around osamu’s fingers or the way his eyes never leave your body, taking note of all your small movements.

“didn’t even try to stop me and now yer humpin’ my hand like a bitch in heat,” osamu plants a messy kiss on your lips, a string of spit connecting the two of you when he pulls away. “gonna cum around my hand when ya know ya shouldn’t even be talkin’ to me. what a bad girl.”

he’s got three fingers rearranging your insides how, with no care to be gentle but your cunt welcomes them so hungrily. osamu’s right, it’s so bad, you should’ve tried harder to stop him but instead you wanted him to touch you more. how would his lips feel on your neck, your chest? how would his cock feel stretching you out for the first time?

“sa–samu…” your thighs start twitching and your mouth feels like cotton. you don’t want to get too loud, unsure of where atsumu went off to take his phone call. your cries get buried by your hands, cumming around osamu’s fingers like the shameful whore he says you are.

for the first time, osamu smiles at you, kissing you once again before pulling your bottoms back up. “came so much fer me, dummy, did it feel good?” when you nod, osamu’s eyes darken. “course it did, stupid. i’ll do it again later, yeah? now watch the rest of yer shitty movie and don’t tell him a fucking word.”

osamu gets up from the couch, openly licking his fingers as he walks past atsumu who just finished his call. the older boy takes one look at your flushed face and is quick to ask what his brother said to you. “nothing happened, we were just talking about class,” you lied and your best friend looks unconvinced.

“ya don’t have to keep defendin’ him, y/n. he gets a kick out of teasin’ ya, just stay away.”

but you weren’t so sure that you wanted to.

©sugawarassoulmate 2022 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

[scarofthewind]

Slashers x Reader || Couch

Prompt: The slashers reaction to their s/o sleeping on the couch after a fight

A/N: hehehehe, this is sort of angsty and I hope you enjoy this hurt comfort garbage fire I have created.

Warnings: Angst, fluff

word count: 1.5k Tip Jar (every bit helps!)

Who squeezes themselves onto the couch with you:

Bubba Sawyer: You stare at his back as he storm’s off, tears filling your eyes as a sob leaves your lips. You’d never fought with Bubba and you know that you’ll get over it but right now you both needed space. With the sun set and the moon in the sky, you made your bed on the couch, trying to make the cushions comfortable but you knew your back would ache in the morning as sleep overtook you. Bubba paced the bedroom, waiting for you to come in and go to bed; when you didn’t, he went looking for you, his heart aching at the sight of you bundled up on the couch. “Bubba?” You ask tiredly as you awake to find him scooching around the couch to lay with you. You hear him mumble an ‘I’m sorry’, before you hum one back, nestling into his chest and finding a much better sleep. 

Norman Bates: The door that slammed shut in your face was loud and it made you wonder if this relationship was worth it. With tears strolling down your face, you walk to the living room with a heavy heart and lay down, trying to keep your sobs quiet. Norman had never yelled like that and you would be lying if you said it didn’t scare you a bit; you knew it would only be a matter of time before he apologized though, and you eventually drifted off to sleep on the scratchy couch. Norman couldn’t sleep until he knew you were okay so he made his way to check on you a few hours later only to see you curled up on the couch. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered to your sleeping form. With gentle hands, he grabbed a blanket and slid behind you, draping the object over you and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Vincent Sinclair: You stared at the mess Vincent had created by angrily knocking over a few of his wax figures after a nasty fight you two had. With watery eyes, you cleaned up the broken people the best you could, all while telling yourself that everything was going to be okay. When Vincent came down from the bedroom to look for you once the sun went down, he spotted you on the couch and immediatley felt his heart sink. “You didn’t have to clean up my mess,” he told you softly after you woke up to him squeezing next to you on the couch. “I’m very sorry I yelled at you. I swear I won’t do that again,” he continued, cupping your tear stained face gently in his hands before placing a kiss to your lips and letting you fall asleep in the comfort of his arms.  

Who takes you back to the bedroom:

Thomas Hewitt: The screen door bounced back with how hard Thomas slammed it as he bounded off the porch, leaving you with tears running down your face and your heart aching at his words. You decided that removing yourself from his presence would be better than confronting him about the fight so you made a home on the couch, finding that sleep was the most comfort you’d felt all day. When Thomas came back inside, he didn’t even see you on the couch as he walked upstairs, ready to apologize and tell you a million times that he loved you. However, when he didn’t see you in the bed, he panicked, beginning to search for you before catching your sleeping figure from the corner of his eye. You only woke up when he was setting you down on the bed, pulling the covers up your body and placing a kiss to your head, “We’ll talk in the morning alright? Just get some sleep and know that I love you more than anything,” he said in a hushed whisper, watching you nod a bit before letting sleep take over once more. 

Bo Sinclair: All you could see was the image of him yelling in your face, every time you closed your eyes. Your head thumped with a migraine and you felt like you couldn’t produce any more tears for a lifetime with how hard you cried. Fights with Bo weren’t uncommon, but they were never this bad. All you could do was hope that he didn’t mean what he said and find some peace in the sleep that enveloped you. A few hours later, Bo sat up in bed, panicking at the feeling of you not there and practically running through the house to find you curled up on the couch. “I’m sorry I said all those things, you know I didn’t mean any of it. Please come to bed, I can’t sleep without you,” he mumbled to you after he shook you awake. With a small nod, you let him pick you up and carry you back to the bedroom.

Jason Voorhees: You were sure you’d never cried that hard in your life. Jason was unable to say things but you knew him like the back of your hand and gestures and looks were enough to have one of the biggest fights you two ever had. After he stormed out of the cabin, you let yourself fall on the couch, crying so hard it eventually put you to sleep. When Jason finally returns to the cabin, he is quiet, knowing that you’re probably asleep; he tells himself that he’ll just sleep on the couch to avoid confrontation until the morning but when he sees you sleeping there with swollen eyes and a runny nose, he feels his stomach drop. Carefully, he picks you up and takes you to the bedroom, getting you settled in the bed before trying to leave, only stopping when he realizes your holding onto his jacket. “Please stay, I need you here with me right now,” you sniffle and he makes a high pitched whimpering noise before kicking his shoes off and moving next to you in the bed, pressing soft kisses to your face and pulling you close. 

Who leaves you there but apologizes in the morning:

Brahms Heelshire: When he first wakes up, Brahms doesn’t remember what happened at all and only comprehends that you’re not laying next to him like you usually are. With haste, he makes his way downstairs, stopping halfway on the last step as all of what happened last night comes to him. All the memories of him yelling at you and you crying while he stormed off made him panic even more, the thought of you leaving him only sending him into a frenzy. He almost takes out a fake plant in the living room as he halts in his search, spotting you curled up on the couch with a blanket and a tissue box. “I’m so sorry, my love,” he tells you when you wake up to him pulling you close and running his fingers through your hair. “I didn’t mean any of it, I promise you,” Brahms continues, feeling your hands clench the back of his cardigan as he holds you against him. 

Michael Myers: With how many times he’s been forced to sleep on the couch, he knows it’s uncomfortable. Michael thinks you’re being stubborn with not coming to bed after another fight you two have but when he wakes up the next morning, he realizes all the things he said and doesn’t blame you for avoiding him. With heavy feet, he drags himself down the stairs to the couch where you were curled up on; balled up tissues on the floor around you and the blanket halfway on the ground. With a deep breath he gently shakes you away, watching your eyes flutter open before you move to sit up, “I’m sorry about what I said.” Michael apologized and you nodded, knowing that’s all you were going to get out of him. “If you’re sore I can rub your back,” he adds, grimacing in remembrance of how a night on the couch felt to his muscles. When you oblige to his offer, he moves you around, letting his back be pressed into the cushions while you lay atop him, his hands kneading into the skin of your back lovingly. 

Charles Lee Ray: His head hurts when he wakes up, remnants of the fight you two had, still playing in his head like a record. Charles barely got any sleep without you next to him, but he was too prideful to stop you from sleeping on the couch. Quietly, he got up and went to the living room, looking over to the couch to your sleeping form before grabbing his keys and heading out the door. When you wake up to the front door being opened, you sit up and watch your lover bring in donuts and coffee as a peace offering. “You know I didn’t mean any of the things I said, right?” He asks, watching you nod slowly before pressing a kiss to your lips. “Good, ‘cause I love you and I’m sorry for yelling at you like that. Now, do you want your eggs scrambled or sunny side up?” You rub your eyes at the sight of him getting the eggs from the refrigerator, making sure you weren’t still dreaming before you give him your answer. 

[kirisaki-daichi-scenarios]

Not sure if this has been asked before but, do you think any of the KiriDai or Imayoshi would fall for someone who's got a shitty personality as them (the KiriDai at least)? Not like hurting a person physically but very spiteful and antisocial kind of girl? Why or why not?

i don’t think of being antisocial as having a shitty personality; spitefulness can be, but it varies a lot person to person. anyway, so i’ve gone for would they like those specific traits in a s/o instead.

Imayoshi Shouichi - Would he like you, maybe date you? Yes. Would he truly fall for you? It’s 50/50. The thing is, he'd enjoy approaching you when it’s clear you don’t want to talk to anyone, and he’d find your spiteful nature entertaining (especially cause he can guess perfectly just how much you hate others and his presence. And he’s also very good at making mean comments!), but up to a point. Those traits make him interested in you, yet Imayoshi’s got his head screwed on his shoulders. He knows he sucks, but he knows also how to succeed in this world. He may not be willing to consider a long term relationship with someone who’s not going to make an effort to hide personality trait when necessary, and keep up false pretences.

Hara Kazuya - Depends. For the spitefulness, he’s fine with someone who makes bitter/catty comments (he’ll probably find them funny) but he needs a light-hearted laugh sometimes too - so spitefulness to an extent, but not someone 100% like that. He’d enjoy annoying someone antisocial with his presence, so he might end up falling for them. But the relationship would only work if they didn’t mind him dragging them around with him sometimes, and putting up with him wanting to go do stuff with them.

Hanamiya Makoto - Bro he’s got so much bitterness and cynicism in him, he’d love being with someone who feels the same way about everyone and everything. Your being antisocial wouldn’t be too much of a problem. Would he occasionally put you in situations where you were forced to socialise, just so he could enjoy how irritated you got? Yes. (That said, tbh, I feel like a relationship between the two of you has a high likelihood of being seriously flawed. The two of you would egg each other on, getting increasingly nasty and spiteful until it starts getting taken out on each other.)

Seto Kentaro - Absolutely no problems with you being spiteful towards other people; he’s never bothered to be like that but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think it sometimes. Also not keen on socialising too much, or going on tons of dates, so the antisocial thing works for him (as long as you’re willing to socialise once or twice a year and be his date to a family event - it’s important for appearances.)

Yamazaki Hiroshi - Definitely not. a) I don’t agree with kurofes on much, but I do agree with it that Zaki would mostly fall for cheerful types. b) I don’t think it’d be good for him to have a spiteful s/o; he’d internalise their criticisms of other people. c) He’s not going to force someone anti-social to spend time with him, but he’s pretty social, so he’d end up feeling miserable. So I doubt he’d fall for someone like this, and, if he somehow did, the relationship would make him fall out of love very quickly.

Furuhashi Kojiro - Probably. He’d be able to handle that kind of personality very well - he's known that feeling of spitefulness many a time (though, for him, it rarely comes out in words, more just glares and, rarely, violence), and he likes his own space too. Aka he doesn’t consider either of those traits as bad. He’d enjoy spending time with this kind of person (provided they don’t start insulting things he likes), so falling for them isn't unlikely.

[keijislove]

Surprise: Harry Potter x Wife!Reader

A/N: warning, i guess there is a slight mention of NSFW (i do not write smut btw) and vomiting, sickness, etc.

Your eyes fluttered open as you were snatched out of your sweet dreams.

You looked to your left, where your husband was still sleeping.

Giggling, you got up and dressed for work.

‘Wake up, sleepyhead.’ You spoke. ‘You’re going to be late for work.’

Harry let out a small groan, sitting up in bed.

‘Morning love.’ He said through a yawn.

‘Morning, dork.’

---------

‘Mrs Potter, good morning!’

‘Hello Mrs Potter!’

‘Hi Y/N, alright?’

‘Good day Mrs Potter!’

‘Hello, hello.’ You briskly said, rushing through the stampede of Ministry wizards, making your way to your office.

‘Y/N, thank goodness you’re here!’ Hermione spoke. ‘Samuel Goodman’s having trouble with that spitting guitar again.’

‘Really? Again?’ you whined. ‘I didn’t think to bring lunch! That man’s job is going to take hours.’

‘I’ll tell Ron to get you something.’ Hermione giggled.

You fake gasped. ‘Minister, are you helping an employee?’

Hermione snorted. ‘Very funny, get going, he’s already knee-deep.’

You raised your hands in surrender, running off.

---------

‘Now, Mr Goodman.’ You seriously stated. ‘I do believe I told you to leave this instrument alone?’

The man blushed scarlet, muttering something that sounded like an apology.

You sighed. ‘Well, it’s done. It won’t spit at you anymore. Good day.’

You lead him out of your office.

Minutes later, there was a knock on your door.

‘Come in.’

‘Hey, Y/N.’ Ronald Weasley popped his head in. ‘Mione told me to bring you lunch, here you go. George has fixed this up for you.’

‘Ah, thanks Ron.’ You yawned. ‘Tell him thanks, that looks great.’

After eating your delicious egg-sandwich, you headed to your husband’s office.

‘Hi Y/N.’ Harry smiled as you entered. ‘Long day?’

‘The spitting guitar again.’ You answered.

‘Again? I feel sorry for you now.’

‘Oh, shut up.’ You laughed. ‘I expect-’

But at that moment, a wave of nausea overcame you, so powerful that you doubled over.

‘Love?’ Harry worriedly asked. ‘Y/N?’

Not speaking, afraid you would throw up, you ran into his bathroom and retched into the toilet.

After panting and cleaning yourself up, you went back out.

‘Love, a-are you alright?’ Harry asked.

‘I’m fine...’ you answered. ‘Maybe George cooked a bad egg or something in his sandwich...’

Harry nodded, unconvinced.

--------

The bell on the door of the shop rang as you entered.

The red-haired man at the counter didn’t look up. ‘Hello, welcome to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, best joke shop in Diagon Alley, I’m George Weasley and you may look around and ask me if you need anything.’

You politely waited for him to finish his monologue before you spoke.

‘Hem hem.’ You said, fighting your giggles as George’s head snapped up in horror.

‘Oh, it’s just you.’ He spoke. ‘I thought it was old toad-face who came to shut down my shop.’

‘Just me?’ you asked. ‘I’m offended.’

‘Yeah, yeah, hello Y/N.’ George snickered. ‘May I help you?’

‘Well, thanks for the sandwich.’ You began. ‘But did you-’

Before you could say put a bad egg in it, another wave of nausea washed over you.

‘Bathroom?!’ you choked out.

‘Y/N, what-’ George began. ‘Uh, yeah, just there.’

He pointed to the door.

You ran in and retched again.

‘Are you alright?’ George asked.

‘Well, I was going to ask you if you put a rotten egg in the sandwich, but now I’m wondering if you put a Puking Pastille in it...’

‘Puking Pastille?’ George repeated. ‘Why would I put that in your food? And we aren’t even making those anymore, it’s limited to Fever Fudge and Fainting Fancies.’

‘Am I sick?’ you wondered aloud.

‘By the looks of it, yeah.’ George spoke. ‘Maybe go home and rest?’

‘Yeah, maybe drop by at St. Mungo’s....’ you muttered, leaving.

----------

‘Hello, you’re at St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, if you want to get treated, use that elevator, if you’re meeting someone, you have to wait, if you’re wasting my time, then please leave and- OH MERLIN!’ the woman gasped. ‘Y-you’re Y/N Potter...’

‘Uhm, I do believe I am.’ You said uncertainly.

‘Oh, well, oh, Mrs Potter, uh, big fan.’ She stuttered. ‘How may I assist you?’

‘Well, you see, I’ve been vomiting since this afternoon, it’s happened thrice already and I don’t recall eating anything off or drinking something old... overall, I need help.’

‘Well, of course you do!’ she breathed. ‘We will call our best healer for you, Mrs Potter, given how much you do for this nation!’

You fought the urge to giggle. ‘Er, thanks. I hope this best healer of yours can cure me.’

‘Certainly dear! He is one of the most skilled.’

The woman grabbed a microphone of sorts and bellowed. ‘HEALER MALFOY, I DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE ASSISTING A DYING PATIENT OR WHATEVER IT IS THAT YOU’RE DOING, GET. HERE. NOW!’

You gasped. ‘Did you say... Healer Malfoy? As in Draco Malfoy?’

‘Yes, dear, quite right.’ She distractedly said.

‘What do you want, you horrible old woman?’ a voice asked behind you.

You didn’t dare turn.

‘Malfoy, kindly assist this lovely lady here.’

‘Alright, hello, how may I help?’ asked Draco.

Cursing internally, you turned around. ‘Hi...’

‘Y/N?’ he asked.

‘Draco.’ You spoke.

‘Ah... um come on, then.’ He awkwardly led you to his office.

‘We haven’t seen each other in quite some time, have we?’ he asked once you entered.

‘Yeah, the last time we met was when we both thought Harry was dead.’ You spoke sarcastically.

Draco smirked. ‘So, what’s with you and Potter, L/N?’

‘That’s Y/N Potter to you.’ You corrected.

Draco’s eyes grew wide. ‘Y/N Potter? You’re serious? That’s you? I thought it was some other Y/N or something...’

‘Honestly Malfoy, how many Y/N’s would marry Harry Potter?’ you asked.

‘I expect you have a point. Alright, Mrs Potter, what ails you?’ he asked.

‘Dunno.’ You simply answered. ‘Been retching all afternoon.’

‘What?’

‘Wait...’ something wasn’t right.

Oh no.

You ran into his bathroom and doubled over inside the toilet and let out your stomach’s contents yet again.

‘Blimey, you alright?’ asked Draco. ‘When did this start?’

‘This afternoon!’ you panted. ‘I thought George put a Puking Pastille in my sandwich, but then it didn’t stop. What’s wrong with me?’

‘I have a very good idea of what might be wrong with you.’ He began, making a disgusted face but you couldn’t place why. ‘But if it’s not true, I don’t want to worry you uselessly. Here, take these pills and if they don’t work, come to me right away. It will take two or three hours to have an effect, so tomorrow should be fine if you’re still... a human hosepipe.’

You snorted. ‘Yeah, alright. Thanks Healer Malfoy.’

‘My pleasure, Y/N Potter.’

---------

‘Hey love, how are you feeling?’ Harry asked as you entered your house.

‘Bit better, I went to St Mungo’s and apparently the best healer they have is Healer Malfoy.’ You spoke.

Harry laughed. ‘And what did Healer Malfoy tell you?’

‘He didn’t. He said he knew what might be wrong with me, but he didn’t want to uselessly worry me in case this is just a nasty stomach bug. So, I’ve got these pills for now.’ You explained.

‘Well, that’s nice.’ You husband said in amusement. ‘For once, you and Malfoy had a conversation where the both of you weren’t constantly threatening to break each other’s face.’

‘I was in for a surprise myself.’ You sarcastically said. ‘I’m going to bed... it’s been a long day, y’know?’

‘Yeah, I understand.’ Harry soothed. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

And yet after eating the pills, you puked almost four times that night.

-----------

‘MALFOY!’ you bellowed. ‘OPEN THE DOOR!’

The door swung open.

‘Pills not working?’ Draco asked before you could open your mouth.

You aggressively nodded.

‘Ugh.’ He spoke. ‘We’re going there, aren’t we? Oh well. Come in.’

He shut the door and crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Er, Y/N, I have a question that is necessary for finding out what’s wrong with you... uhm, you’re married and all right? So, um... did you and Potter have your... em, fun night yet?’

Your cheeks blushed a heavy scarlet as you choked on your own spit. ‘Fun *cough* night?’

Draco looked fairly embarrassed as well. ‘Sorry, er, let me rephrase, when did you have your last menstrual cycle?’

‘About...’ you suddenly gasped. ‘It’s ten days late!’

‘Mhmm.’ Draco wore the same disgusted expression as before.

‘What?’

‘Sorry, it’s just really hard to imagine Potter wanking himself in your presence...’

You slapped the back of his head.

‘Sorry, sorry.’ He said again. ‘Alright, um, take this.’

He handed you a small tube of sorts.

You raised a brow. ‘The Draco Malfoy, offering me a muggle instrument? What day is it today?’

‘They’re surprisingly reliable.’ He said delicately. ‘And it’s Wednesday, by the way.’

You giggled.

Minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom.

‘So what does two lines mean?’

‘That there’s one baby Potter in there.’

----------

The next morning, you set out for your friends’ house.

You knocked on the door.

Several minutes later, a shabby-ooking Ron came out. ‘Whozzerre?’

‘Y/N.’ you answered.

‘The bloody hell are you doing here seven in the morning?’ he asked, nettled.

‘I need to see your wife, Ronald.’ You responded with equal mock-anger.

‘Oh, for Merlin’s sake Ron!’ said a voice as a fully dressed Hermione appeared at the door. ‘Y/N! Hi!’

‘Hey Mione, can I speak to you?’

‘Of course.’

‘Er, privately?’

‘Oh don’t mind me. I’m going to bed.’ Ron yawned.

‘Charming, Ronald.’ Hermione snapped as Ron trudged back. ‘Yes?’

‘Mione... I’m pregnant.’

‘What? I’m sorry, I must’ve misheard you, could you say that again?’

‘I’m serious Mione. I’m pregnant.’

‘WHAT?’ Hermione squealed. ‘Y/N, but that’s... amazing!’

‘I know!’ you squealed.

‘Does Harry know?’

You looked away.

‘You didn’t tell him, did you?’ Hermione accusingly said.

‘I’m not sure how he’s going to react.’ You muttered.

‘Well... maybe tell him by the end of this week... the Auror requirements are crazy at the moment. Maybe you ought to wait till he’s relaxed?’ she suggested.

‘Yeah, I’ll do that. And Mione, could you please cover for me just this once? I’ll work overtime maybe when you know, the baby’s born? It’s just... I’m quite tired at the moment.’ You pleaded.

‘You will not work overtime after your baby is born.’ Hermione sternly instructed. ‘I will cover for you all the same. Take care, Y/N.’

-----------

‘Love, is something the matter?’ Harry concernedly asked. ‘You’re... distant.’

‘I’m working long hours, Harry.’ You responded.

Harry arched a brow. ‘I don’t recall ever seeing you at the office in the last two days. Where do you disappear to in the day time?’

‘I have other work to do besides stay at the Ministry, Harry.’ You snapped in irritation.

Pregnancy was giving you mood swings.

‘See, this is the problem.’ Harry said. ‘You’re not telling me something. When was the last time you called me Harry in that tone?’

‘I dunno, but I’ll use it more often if you act like this.’

‘You know what, that’s it.’ He slammed his fork on the table. ‘I can’t take this anymore. Do what you like.’

He stomped up.

Yup, you blew it.

Sighing and rubbing your temples, you followed.

‘I’m not sure you’d be happy if I told you why.’ You muttered when you got there.

‘Happy?’ asked Harry. ‘Why would I be happy with something that is the cause of my wife ignoring me? I’d personally hate it.’

Tears brimmed in your eyes.

‘Oh yeah?’ you asked in a shaky voice. ‘Well good job, because I’m bloody pregnant with your bloody baby. And you hate it, don’t you?’

Harry was dumbstruck.

He opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish.

‘Y/N...’ he choked out. ‘I didn’t mean...’

‘Save it.’ You said, running downstairs.

Harry messed up his hair.

‘I’m gonna be a dad?’ he whispered to no one.

A crash from the dining room followed by a whimper of pain snapped him out of his thoughts.

‘Love?’ he called.

No answer.

‘Y/N!’ he ran down.

‘I’m... nothing, I thought it was going to... come.’ You panted. ‘Babies don’t come that fast, do they?’

‘I... don’t know. Love, I’m so sorry.’

Harry gently picked you up and carried you to your bedroom.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek. ‘Rest, darling. Don’t exhaust our little child here.’

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

‘It’s a boy!’

You let out a choked sob, reaching out as the doctor placed your creation in your hands.

Everybody, Harry, Ron, Hermione, George, Ginny, Bill, Fleur, Percy, Mr and Mrs Weasley had come to see you.

‘It’s so cute!’ Ginny whispered.

‘He’s beautiful.’ You spoke.

Your husband approached you.

‘C-can I?’ he asked.

You smiled and shifted over as Harry sat down, cradling the baby boy in his arms.

A tear escaped his eye.

‘James.’ You cooed.

‘James Sirius Potter.’ Harry declared, pressing a kiss to your temple.

After you had gone home, Harry had taken you to the nursery he designed for the baby weeks ago.

‘I love you so much.’ He muttered.

‘I love you too, idiot.’ You laughed. ‘And I love this baby.’

‘Hmm. Let’s make another one.’

[drwcn]

《the red regent 》 - part 10, evil!wen qing au ↦ [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9.1 + 9.2]

---

Wei Wuxian let out a sigh and tucked the blanket higher on Lan Wangji's chest. He had bathed the other man in medicinal potions, cleaned the nasty wound inside his mouth and applied herbal ointments onto the bandage that shielded his missing eyes. Lan Wangji remained unconscious the entire time, sedated by Wei Wuxian's immense spiritual power, and now he laid resting in a deep, dreamless slumber, appearing much more human in the clean grey robes than he did at Dafan Mountain.

Lan Zhan...

A knock came at the door. Wei Wuxian's guard was immediately up. He had told the owner of the inn he was not to be disturbed, but the presence he felt on the other side did not belong to a mere mortal.

His brother had found him.

"Since you're here, come in."

The door creaked open, and a cautious Jiang Cheng stepped through. He had aged, noticed Wei Wuxian, not in a way that took away his youthful handsomeness, but the boy inside him was gone. He imagined that when his shidi looked at him, he too appeared much changed as well.

Sixteen years... it took him sixteen to find his way home.

Jiang Cheng came to a standstill beside Lan Wangji's bedside, stricken. "You were right."

You should've believed me, Wei Wuxian wanted to say, but that was neither here nor there. What mattered now was how to proceed, and if they sought justice... inevitably Jiang Cheng's heart would be caught in the crossfire.

"What does Your Excellency plan to do?" He asked instead.

Jiang Cheng scowled.

"Being xiandu suits you," smiled Wei Wuxian, sincere and bittersweet. "With your temper, I never would've thought, but Jiang-shushu would've been proud."

"Process of elimination," shrugged Jiang Cheng, as if it was all so inconsequential. "After what happened, in his grief, Lan Xichen locked himself and the rest of Gusu Lan away. The Lan disciples you saw at Dafan - they'd only just begun re-emerging from Mt. Gusu. Nie Huaisang was in no position to lead, particularly not when the world assumed the worst of his brother. Jin Zixuan was considered, for a short while, but being Jin Guangshan's heir had tainted him too. Qishan Wen had no candidate to submit; Wen Yuan was but four."

"There was Wen Qing, surely she would have fit the bill." Wei Wuxian could not keep the bite out of his words. "Everyone thought her a saint."

"Qing'er - Wen Qing is regent. She could not be Chief Cultivator without subverting Wen Yuan's power."

Jiang Cheng lowered his eyes. "She said it should be me."

Wei Wuxian scoffed, closing his eyes. "Qing-jie was always a kingmaker."

They fell into a heavy silence after that. The only sound was Lan Wangji's soft even breaths in time with the slow rise and fall of his chest.

"What happened to him?"

"Someone made him into a living puppet, using the last remaining piece of the Yin Iron I imagine. Kept him under control with these," He opened his fist to show the three 3' inch nails still coated in dried blood.

"And his eyes?"

"That I don't know."

"Have you informed the Gusu Lans?"

"No. When he wakes up, I'll talk with him, and then we'll see. She won't get away with this - "

"Wei Wuxian -" Jiang Cheng lurched half a step forward, fists clenching.

"You can't stop me, A-Cheng. You couldn't stop me sixteen years ago, you can't stop me now."

"You -" Jiang Cheng gnarled. "覆巢之下无完卵 - beneath a fallen nest there are no eggs unharmed! It's not just about her!"

"I won't persecute Wen Yuan if that's your worry. This has nothing to do with him, and so as long as he follows the righteous path, he has nothing to worry about."

To that, Jiang Cheng only glared, eyes tight with desperation and anger.

Wei Wuxian held his gaze unwaveringly, knowing full well what his brother's real concern was.

"Shuotian is my son," confessed Jiang Cheng at last, shoulders drooping in defeat. "Mine and hers. I was young and foolish and... Wen Qing never admitted to anything but - we...we don't talk about it. For his sake, I have never acknowledged him. Zhao Zhuliu has been dead for years; all he has is his mother. If she falls, then - "

"A-Cheng," Wei Wuxian grasped his brother by the shoulders. "I'm sorry that you love her. But you as xiandu have a responsibility to the realm, to protect mortals and cultivators alike. You know this. I know you do."

Jiang Cheng squeezed his eyes shut, seemingly fighting back an intense pain he can't bare. "If it's her, if she truly is as you say, will you let me carry out the sentence?"

Wei Wuxian did not blink. "They will want her dead. The Lans, the Nies. Everyone."

"I know." Jiang Cheng let out a sharp gasping breath. "Still. Please."

[prof-peach]

Out of all of the pokemon you have taken care of, which one do you think it was the hardest to deal with? Be cuz they were in a pretty bad shape, or just personality wise?

We get rumbunctious and rowdy Pokemon all the time, our works nature brings them to us probably more than any other issue, outside of grass Pokemon care and management. Anger and nervousness is something we have a good hold of here, and try to help iron out of various species. I do a lot of that work, and on occasion, Grey will do the odd water type with these problems, as I tend to shy away from those. For the most part, they are short stint stays, a couple months, to a couple years helping them to rewire their anger into a more productive feeling or energy. That being said, there’s alwasy the odd Pokemon who comes our way who’s just a step above the rest. So here’s some stories of the ones who have had to stay with us, for their temperament and behaviour.

On the north side of the island, we house the biggest, meanest Pokemon, and the individuals who are very timid and nervous around people. We do this to ensure they have space to live undisturbed in peace, but also to protect guests and visitors from being eaten, crushed, blasted, or otherwise harmed. Some of the northern residents are difficult yes, but most are just stroppy or uncomfortable with the majority of humans, but there are a handful that are actively engaged in harming or hunting people.

One such Pokemon is a rather nasty tempered Drampa, he came to us about five or so years ago now, kindly donated by being abandoned on our shores, it’s original trainer leaving the ball and hopping on a boat without alerting us, or letting the individual know. We figured it would be possible to rehome it, they’re usually a rather reasonable Pokemon to handle, considering their typing. We were wrong. This Pokemon when let out of the ball, went on a monsterous rampage for four days, destroying forests, toppling buildings, blasting holes in the mountain to try to burrow away, and picking fights with anything it’s size or bigger, often causing great harm to others. The island didn’t rest for that entire time, most Pokemon cowering from it, bigger species trying to halt them, all in vain. It took an entire troop of grass Pokemon using sleep powder to knock it out, the Drampa moved about so fast, one single grass type didn’t stand a chance to produce enough spores in time. It took a lot of work but we knocked the old boy out, and got a good look at him. His body was riddled with arthritis, not medicated, he would thrash about and cause himself so much pain and discomfort. He had overgrown nails, the feet hidden in the fur they have around their torso, often overlooked, and it’s ability to fly was limited because of its general condition and state. We began helping it, medicating it’s aislments, aiding it’s inflamed joints, but it never really calmed down, so now it chills out alone on the coast of the north side, left well alone, it doesn’t even like the company of other Pokemon.

We’ve done our best to interact with it, to socialise it, to generally get it use to people enough to do medical checks, but it’s still very resistant. We have decided that after two years of hard work, and it being tolerant to me, at least to check it’s health and wellbeing, that it’s best to let it live it’s life unbothered. Many would push a Pokemon to be a perfect social being, but we don’t believe it’s necessary for happiness. Some species are happy to be away from others, I wouldn’t push a human to be social, I know how awful that can be, so we didn’t force the individual to be around others either. It’s not that it’s unhappy, we spot it from time to time sitting on the rocks by the ocean, humming to itself, and the small pidgey and tailow that come by don’t bother it, and even give mild brief conversation. He seems ok, the medicine given means he’s in less pain, despite still having stiffness, and in the winter we’ve built him a unique space, rocky cover much like a cave, just above a Macargo hide where they lay eggs. The heat from those Pokemon keep its cave very hot, and help in the cold to ease the joint aches. The two species have different entrances, making sure they never meet within the hide at any point. There’s a good slab of rock dividing them, so it’s not an issue, and saves us having to pipe hot water over that far for him. He eats well, has a few items he’s kept from the labs, a toy sentret, and a large red ball, and generally is in a good place to live out his life in peace now.

Another difficult member would be a particularly timid Slazzle, gifted to us by a police member who had confiscated it from a rather mean individual close to her home town, they had been hurting the poor Pokemon, forcing it to produce an insane amount of poison liquid, throwing water on the poor thing every time it tried to ignite to retaliate, generally abusing the poor thing for its life, apparently it had been locked away since it was a young unevolved Pokemon. They’d been harvesting the poisons from the Slazzle and dropping it into various water sources to try to control the local Pokemon population, as they blamed the wild ones for the state of their land, and diminished crops yield from their allotment. Jokes on them, that water poisoning affected them too, and their garden died very quickly, and made the man quite sick through consumption of the crops he grew there. The slazzle is still very skittish, will hide at any given moment, we’ve seen her ignite an entire building in one move, and then bolt away through the flames to lose our line of sight. She managed to stay hidden for two weeks on the island, before we caught sight of her again. Generally she’s just a case fo neglect but we have been working with her now for a long while, 3 ish years, and her temperament is at least manageable amongst our staff. We have found her others of her kind to help her settle, and she’s become good friends with a Wartortle who came from the same area, they bond over memories of the place, and seem very happy in each others company.

We’ve found ways to keep her grounded, but she never goes near people when we have open days, slinks off through the big fence to the north side, and waits out the visiting hours until night. They’re not usually nocturnal but she likes the night, and spends her time looking about, foraging and feeding in the later hours. If you’re quiet you can catch her moving around the forests and the base of the mountains here, talking with the occasional individual, she seems to enjoy Murkrow too, their company seems to keep her quite social, as they usually move in large flocks here. She may never be rehomed, but for now we try to socialise her, we don’t battle her, and she has a very calm and peaceful nook to go to when she’s having a rough time. We make sure to provide support where possible, and though she’s a little skittish she’s somewhat happy to have myself and Grey, even Pari take a look at any wounds or scrapes she may gain while living here. She’s become trusting enough to come to us if we call, and who knows, maybe someone will come our way who she takes an interest in. There’s hope for her yet, we have however become quite fond of her, and she’s part of the furniture now. It may end up that she never leaves, and lives her life in peace here, surrounded by people and Pokemon who love her. Her panic makes her very difficult to pass to another trainer, and she’s prone to spitting up huge quantities of toxic liquid when spooked, and bolts at a slight bang or rumble.

One I have kept back for a number of reasons, is a rather mean tempered Aerodactyl. Normally we get Pokemon sent to us, but this one I ended up finding myself, some circus had her chained up in a box hardly big enough to turn around in, an attraction to the masses as they travelled through the area. The leader of that troop was particularly awful, treating Pokemon as commodities, items to be bought and sold, used as toys in his big performances. Boiled my blood. We called her Zeplin, and after 12 years she has still got a nasty temper on her, when not focused on a task. Her condition when we first found her was quite something, tattered wings, unable to fly straight at all, and she was littered with cuts and bruises, not in good health. Val has melted the chains that bound her, and the lock in her cage, and she just went, like a bat out of hell, flew off, blasting the tent that hid her quarters, burning a lot of the circus as she went. Little did I know, my foot was in one of the chain links, and I got dragged off with her, the ground, Val, all my other team mates, falling from my pocket, or being left on the floor where we had once been standing. She flew, and kept going, not aware I was still attached, you could see her wings were having a hard time catching the breeze, littered with holes and tears, she went for about two hours, I nearly froze that high up, trying to get a good grip on what chain was left so I didn’t come falling from that height. We came to a very sudden crash landing, she hadn’t had much chance to practice the whole take off - land thing from the feel of it, we both ate dirt, and she became very aware that I was there all of a sudden.

I had about three seconds while she assessed my presence, to get out of the chain, and dive behind a rock that gave me cover from an almighty blast of energy, chipping away bits, catching my arm a little. Trust me when I say, it’s terrifying coming face to face with something that stands a fair few meters taller than you, with more teeth and claws than you’re comfortable with dealing with, with none of your Pokemon, no weaponry, no real plan or cover other than a rock. How she didn’t eat me, I don’t know. Perhaps she knew it was me that let her go, maybe she just ran out of energy, but for whatever reason, she made a few bits and tail lashes at me, missed the lot, and gave up, turning to stomp off into the forests around us. She was still shackled with heavy irons, one on the neck, two on the legs, and was in serious condition, so I did the stupid thing and followed her, tried to sneak my way behind, though every now and then she would look towards me, and try to focus on my form in the dark of night now. It was a few days, she had stalked some prey, fed, and was starting to ooze from some wounds. Though the circus was unkind, they were providing her with medication that stopped further infections occurring, perhaps a scarred beast of great size drew more punters, maybe they were just making sure she survived to make them money, I still don’t know.

I hunted herbs, dug out roots with rocks, used river water, and common berries and managed to fashion some kind of salve, nothing amazing, especially back at that age, but it would work, I knew it would because I used it on my own wounds first. Just had to convince her it was a good thing to let me get close. Not an easy task. We physically brawled, she was clearly spent, not able to use any attacks, just thrashing about, I managed to trip her with the chains still attached to her legs, and once downed, you can jump on the head of these Pokemon to keep the jaws shut, just long enough to lather the wounds you can reach, then bolt fast. It was a small act, but she took off running again. With some wounds sort of cared for, I followed again, fishing for dinner, forraging roots to chew on. It wasn’t much but it kept me going, then one night, where I had climbed to a crook of a large tree, using my jacket to tie myself in for a nights sleep, I was awoken by loud rustling, thudding of feet, and a mighty huff.

Below where I sat, the Pokemon had returned, being no doubt well aware of my presence, following the smell of human, she had noticed the salve do a good job on the wounds I managed to reach, but the ones I couldn’t get near had become far worse, red, inflamed and weeping terribly, no doubt hurting and itching. I’d seen her rubbing her sides in the day, itching gasinst rocks and trees, smearing blood and ooze along her path as she trudged. So here we were, alone in the woods, I veeeeery carefully climbed down, staying in cover as much as possible, and over the space of an hour or two, she let me come out into the open, teeth bared yeah, but she hadn’t attacked, and other than a very uncomfortable, low growl, she allowed me to creep closer, some more of that salve made more for my own wounds than hers, being sniffed at, she licked it too, but wasn’t happy with the taste, very bitter, and I was cautiously optimistic, allowed to help her heal the rest of the cuts she had acquired from her old home. So we began our....I want to say friendship but that wasn’t it, it was a collaboration to survive.

We had landed somewhere far from others, I missed my team, and she had never experienced anything outside of the cage, and so we banded together, tentatively. We caught dinner as a team, and climbed for fruits, foraged for berries, reapplying what loose form of medicine I managed to make, before coming to some kind of comfortable companionship together. A week passed, wandering without a clue where we were, before a path was found, she seemed to want to avoid it, and while I wasn’t keen on people much either, it was impossible not to want to find my team again. They needed me, and I needed them. If they had been found, a police officer or the likes may have sent them to my original professor, waiting to be called from the PC system again, but knowing Val, she had grabbed the balls, my things, and bolted to hide, waiting for my return. In desperation I tried to explain this to the Aerodactyl, who had not experienced a trainers care before, and seemed reluctant to return.

It was only upon mentioning revenge, to burn the circus to the ground, that I regained her attention, and we came to a slow agreement to get aid, gather items, and return to where she had been released from. She waited in the forest while I went to town, checking my PC space to see if my team had been handed in, which they had! It was lucky, I was reunited with Val (vulpix), Booker (teddiursa), and Potato (bulbasaur) who I took back, and returned to the woods with.

We had to get some revenge, and in turn we devised a plan to free the Pokemon first, sneak in and pick the locks, melt the chains and gates, and then finally, let the aerodactyl do her thing once the vulnerable individuals were loose. I did my best to hold back my own personal rage, and simply aid the demise of a group who were awful towards Pokemon through this one big flying type. I wint go into details but no one perished in the fire, they were arrested and charged for unsafe work conditions, and abuse towards Pokemon, not to mention false advertising, having no worker’s Compensation in pace for injury, which many staff complained of, and several incidents of sexual harassment in the work place that were brought to light.

Once one started to talk, the others all joined in, and the fire was put down to unsafe working conditions and a lack of health and safety. From what I heard, the whole circus worth of Pokemon were rehomed, helped and generally lived much better lives after that. However now we had one very mistrusting angry Aerodactyl on our hands, a Pokemon I had not worked with before, who had seemingly become quite tolerant of me, but would snap at just about anyone who clocked eyes with her. So I kind of just kept her, no ball, not for a fair few years, we both didn’t think it was important. She was nursed back to health, and we had to go through a lot of training together, she bit booker once quite badly, but we’ve all put that in the past, and have worked on it together.

She is still testing, she won’t be ridden by anyone else, she doesn’t care for other Pokemon much, crowds will spook her, she doesn’t like when people talk with raised voices or hostile tones, and gets real irritable if you come at her in any kind of way that isn’t open handed, calm and slowly. She’s now a very capable flier, wings healed up, spending her first half of life locked up made her long for the open sky, so now we take time together to go off and ride winds when work is slow, and she’s helped in many ways to make the island functional, by moving logs, clearing paths, helping lift building materials around, and generally being there for me when I’m full of rage, which is actually annoyingly often. We’re anger buddies hah, kind of get on the same level with it. She’s become so much part of my family, and I feel like i’m part of hers now too, so I doubt she’d be rehomed, but should she find somewhere she would rather be, we wouldn’t stop her going. She is difficult, angry, snappy, tempermental, difficult, won’t be touched by strangers, likes to fight, but I’d not change her, she’s our testing monster, who we love and adore.

Went off a bit, but I figured why not, I know her, and can write more about her life and story than the others.