#a child raised on poison etc etc etc

[thatssroughbuddy]

How about Zuko and #3 for the character ask game?

Hi Anon!!!!

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

Omg he’s such a brat!! Especially in the first 2 seasons he can be sooo snotty and shoots insults at people that are definitely meant to cut deep.

I could sit here and talk about how hurt people hurt people and how he’s just a teenager (true) but like. He is mean! He says mean things sometimes and that’s canon!

Thank u for the ask! Send me some numbers and a character for this character ask game :)

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tormented Spirit | 15

Part 1 [...] 14 15 16

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 4k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, smut (piv, fingering, double penetration, cock warming) violence, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: guys i think hes trying. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

You don't know how many times you and Daemon walked around the fountain. Truth be told, as the seconds bled into minutes, you began to fear he would get impatient with you and ask you to stop your walk before you were ready to. It didn't help that every time you looked to examine his demeanor, he was already looking at you. His gaze was scalding. You could not keep it for more than a second.

You could not help but pick at the flower in your hand until all its petals were scattered on the floor. You felt uneasy around him.

At some point, you became too restless walking around with him that you opted to sit down and be done with it. "Very well," you mutter, sitting on the wide ledge of the stone fountain, "I shall tell you."

Daemon sits next to you, brows furrowing at the way your breath hitches.

You suck in a deep breath, "our children are-"

"You need not speak of them this instant," he takes your hand, squeezing it, "not if it is unbearable."

You look at his hand. You look at him. You see the softness of his gaze. You feel nothing. You mutter his name.

He mutters your back in response, reaching for your cheek.

You pull away, both your head and your hand.

He gulps, watching you scoot back. He retreats and digs his nails into his lap.

"If I do not tell you now," you shake your head, looking over your shoulder, "I do not know when next I will be willing."

Daemon watches you watch the water trickle. He shifts, "I do not mind."

"I do," you whip your head back, "I do not want to keep you waiting."

He watches your dark hair flow with the wind. He so badly wants to brush it out of your face. He shakes his head, "you have waited enough for me."

You chuckle dryly, "you misunderstand," you look away and reach for the flower drifting over. You grunt as you stretch your arm out, "you make me uneasy."

Daemon's face twitches. Poison spreads through his thorax and an invisible noose tightens around his neck. He opens his mouth, but only a shudder leaves him. You say this so casually too... what horror.

You manage to reach the flower and relax back in your spot after grabbing it. You stare at the rose before turning to your husband. He looked so unlike what he did the day he left you. His hair, which was once nearly the length of yours, now couldn't cover his ears. And his eyes... they were uncharacteristically soft. You lower your gaze, "there was once a time I put a flower in your hair... do you recall it?"

He knits his brows.

You brush your rose petals.

He does not recall. "I recall the day you littered your brother and your ward with blossoms you picked from the field."

You chuckle as you fidget with your rose, "pity."

Daemon swallows a thick lump in his throat, "would you help me recall it?"

"Twas the same day," you smile, looking up at him.

He is winded, "I-"

"I pity you, I really do."

Deep lines form on his face. He shakes his head as his voice breaks, "I... do not mean to forget."

You chuckle again, though there was no trace of amusement in your chest, only tightness, "I know you don't," you tentatively raise the flower and take a deep breath. It takes a few moments for you to gather the nerve to secure the rose by his ear.

Daemon stills as you do so, then helps you put the flower in place.

You pull away, looking at him and his rose. You noticed the way his breathing grew heavy, how his eyes glistened with tears that threatened to fall. You sigh and shrug, "I remember placing a bud in your hair and thinking you-" you stop to chuckle. Youu shrug and shake your head, "-were devastatingly handsome I could not help but stare."

His lips part and his nostrils twitch.

You wait for him to react.

He does not.

"Do you not recall this either?" you raise your brows, "those were your own words."

He knits his brows, sheepish over how you were seemingly teasing him so suddenly for his vanity.

"You came from the City Watch," you clarified, "I did not know it yet, but you had razed King's Landing and executed criminals in the streets—"

His jaw slacks, "ah."

"—you were covered in blood. I stared because I was concerned and that," you point to nowhere, "was what you told me."

He shakes his head, "a poor jest of a man who thinks himself funny," he turns to the bushes, "forget the memory."

You knit your brows, "I do not want to forget."

He looks back at you.

"I did agree," you mutter, "though instead of devastatingly handsome, I would have called you beautiful."

Daemon wanted to speak, but then the flower in his hair was being blown off by the wind. He keeps it in its place, forfeiting the moment to respond.

"It must be terrible to have only the capacity to recall things that cause you rage or suffering."

A wind blows between you and the air in his lung is pulled along with it. Daemon shivers when you reach a hand out to him. He looks at your outstretched palm before taking it in both of his. His heat causes your skin to prick with goosebumps. His hand felt as hot as dragon fire.

"I recall your scent and the feel of your skin," Daemon scoots forward, "I recall your tenderness and your fire. I-"

"You must understand," you cut him off, placing your other hand atop his, "I do not ask you to recall merely to reminisce," you take a few deep breaths, "I do this to explain I no longer feel that way."

His stomach drops. He realizes then this stoic countenance you held was not that but indifference to him. He whimpers and lowers his head, "no, please-"

"I feel nothing for your sadness," you mutter, "I cannot lend you any more of my pity, for where I once saw beauty, I now see only grief..."

Tears stain his cheeks.

"And loss," you pull away to wipe his face, "my babes looked so much like you."

He presses his hands atop yours and pushes them into his cheeks so that you would not let him go.

"Our babes," you correct yourself.

He whimpers. He screws his eyes shut, trying to recall their names. He cannot.

"I did not write about them for I knew you took many lengths to avoid having children with me."

His eyes are suddenly wide open. He is blindsided.

"I, myself, could not believe it when the maester told me I was with child. He explained to me that it is possible to conceive with premature ejaculation."

Daemon's hold on your hands loosen. You knew what he was doing all alone? You pull away.

"I was deeply afraid you would doubt me, doubt their parentage because you never spilled inside of me, but... you should know that my tw— our twins both had silver hair," you sniffle, "and violet eyes."

You begin to weep as the punishing memory plays in your head. He feels helpless to see you this like this, twice over because he knows if he touches you, you will retreat.

You whimper and shake your head, "many bore witness to my... miscarriage."

The thought horrifies him.

"Your brother being one."

Daemon's face is aghast.

"You can go to him if you ever wish to accuse me of infidelity."

"You think the worst of me," he groans.

You stare at him for a moment then burst into dry laughter, "I do not. You attacked my guards for something you misheard me mutter in my sleep— I think exactly what I know of you."

He makes a sound, "but I-"

You wait for him to continue.

There is nothing left for him to say.

"You must," you sigh, "understand... I am only trying to make you understand. Where you yearn presently I yearned for three years."

"But I don't understand," he shakes his head, "had I not returned today, would you have still written to me?"

You inhale deeply, "I would."

"Then why don't you want me?"

"Because, Daemon!" you come to a stand, "had you not returned today, you still would have ignored me!"

He looks up at you.

"And my children would remain unburied!"

His jaw drops, "w-what?"

"I did not have them buried!" you point to the side, "I had them kept rotting in a box so that they would be acknowledged once by their father and be sent off in the traditions of their house."

Daemon slowly rises to his feet. He gulps, raising a hand.

You step back, "do you understand?"

He clenches his fists, then relaxes. He nods, "what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to prepare the funeral rites for my children and I want their bodies honored tomorrow."

He stares at you for a moment before nodding again. He mutters under his breath, "eminna ziry gaomagon, ñuha jorrāelagon." I will have it done, my love.

"Ȳdra daor yne brōzā bona." Don't call me that.

He is taken off-guard, forgetting that you now speak his mother tongue.

You wipe your face and smoothen out your robe, "I nightly have supper with my sister and nephew."

He watches you shake your head. Something happens to his heart as he imagines how you've lived without him.

"You are more than welcome to join us, so long as you promise to keep your manners."

He perks.

"But you ought to know I normally invite whichever ward is keeping me guard to dine with us."

His eye twitches. He aimlessly examines the sky, "I..."

You watch his expression closely.

"I do not think I can stomach being around your wards, let alone dine with one."

"But I've explained that-"

He raises a hand. You clench your teeth, watching him shake his head. He releases a deep breath, "it is not my desire that you resent me more than you already do."

You watch him reach a hand out to you.

"Let me walk you at least?"

You stare at his hand for a moment. When you take it, you feel your stomach drop and Daemon feels his spirit lifted.

The walk you take is silent. When you arrive to the solar you dined at, Daemon rubs your hand before pulling away. You watch him fade down the hall and you feel conflicted to see him go.

He walks off to gods know where and aimlessly continues to do so until he hears someone call his name. When he turns, he sees his brother's face.

Viserys had been smiling, up until he got close enough to see Daemon's face. The king's brows furrow. He places a hand on his brother's arm, watching tears stream from his face, "skoros iksis pirta?" What is wrong?"

"I could not ask her... but she said you saw them," he mutters, gripping Viserys by the arms. His lips wobble and his brows tighten, "vestas ao ūndan ñuha riñar." She said you saw my children.

Viserys tenses when Daemon's grip tightens, out of aggression or desperation, he was not sure. To his brother, sometimes the two were one in the same. He places his hands on Daemon's shoulders and tries to calm him down.

Daemon shudders, "what did they look like?"

It hits him. He thinks of the moon you left for Oldtown after Daemon left for the Stepstones and how Alicent worried that it would cause conflict between in your marriage. A sourness spreads in the king's mouth as he recalls Alicent worriedly relaying her sister's worries to him— that Daemon would accuse her of fleeing to Oldtown because she had strayed. Viserys clenches his jaw, "they're your children, brother."

Daemon's brows furrow, "w-what?"

"They're Valyrian— silver hair, violet eyes-"

The prince shakes him, "you misunderstand me." He shakes his head, a whimper leaving his lips, "what did they look like?"

Viserys watches Daemon's eyes water all over again.

"Did they look like me? Did they look like her? Did they have her nose? Her lips? Her brows? Or mine?" He shudders, "were they beautiful?"

Viserys feels his lungs tighten when his brother sobs into his chest. His own eyes water and he throws his arms around Daemon. He leans into him as his brother's arms tighten around him. Viserys does not recall the last time Daemon's wept in his arms.

"Shijetra nyke. Nyke shifang aōha ōdres sir," Daemon says through tears. It forces tears to fall from Viserys's eyes. Forgive me. I understand your pain now.

Viserys holds him a little tighter, "ñuha valonqar." My (younger) brother.

The two remain this way until Daemon was calm enough to part from the embrace.

After supper, you make your way back to your chambers, frowning to see it empty. You take a candle and light it, heading out of your room to look for your husband. In truth, you did not know why you were doing so, for all you knew, he was out in Fleabottom, reliving the early days of your marriage. Still... here you were.

You pad quietly down the halls and ask the occasional servant you pass if they had seen Daemon. The response was the same between them all: no, princess. You nod and bid them good night each time before walking off.

You realize soon your feet were silently leading you somewhere, which is why you stop when you reach the hall to the Kingsguards' quarters. You find your eyes falling to the door that lead to the shared room of the Cargyll brothers. You momentarily recall the rather cold dismissal you gave them, which was so unlike you. Your heart calls for you to check on them. The next thing you know, you're knocking on their door.

You watch the light on your candle flicker as you wait for an answer. You watch it go off when the door opens with a, "princess."

You look up, finding Arryk's worried face, and soon, Erryk behind him.

"Has something happened?" Erryk asks hurriedly.

You shake your head, "no... I," you look at the smoke wafting from your candle, "I just wanted to see if you were alright."

Arryk, even through the darkness, could see your bare décolletage. His eye lingers before he shakes his head, "you needn't worry about us. My brother and I are well."

"It was your husband that ended up badly injured," Erryk quips.

Arryk looks over to his brother. Erryk has his eyes on you, or rather, your candle. He reaches out, "allow me to relight it, my princess."

You watch him take your candle and a shiver runs down your spine as the wind blows down the quiet hall.

Arryk notices and steps aside, "it will not take long, but please, take a seat."

You walk into their room and Arryk motions to one of the beds. You take a seat and watch Erryk look through his drawers, grumbling, "where the bloody hells did I put that damn flint?"

Arryk drapes a blanket on your shoulders, rolling his eyes at his brother, "hang on."

You tighten the blanket around you, immediately feeling warm, not only because of the added layer, but because it smelled like your ward. You watch Arryk dig through his own drawers and the moment he grumbles like his twin, you realize you it was going to take long. You didn't mind at all though.

You decide to lie down and make yourself comfortable. You yawn, knowing then you were, in fact, exhausted.

Erryk decides his flint is lost and snaps at his brother, "where's your fucking flint?"

Arryk glares at back at him, "mind your manners, worm."

Erryk immediately tenses, remembering why he was looking for flint in the first place. His eyes turn to you, throat tightening to see you lying down. He steps forward, calling out your name.

Your heavy eyes open wide, only to fall again at the sight of Erryk, "hmm?"

Erryk kneels beside you, "you cannot sleep here." His hand twitches, dying to touch you.

Hearing his twin's words, Arryk turns. He rubs his chest and curses under his breath.

You merely hum again, snuggling deeper into your blankets.

Erryk speaks your name once more.

You sigh, "yes?"

"Princess," Arryk says, clenching his fists in an attempt to steel himself away, "I do not think we will find flint to light your candle."

Erryk ignores reason and listens to desire; he places a hand on your cheek, belly burning when you lean into his touch.

Arryk gulps at the sight of it. His voice is soft and shaky, "y-you cannot sleep here."

You sigh once more, finally pushing yourself up from the bed. You tighten the blanket around you with a groan. Your heavy eyes look upon Erryk, knelt on the floor, his own eyes were blown, wholly opposite to yours. You then turn to Arryk, stood rigid by his drawers. You notice the way his fingers twitch.

You place your hand on Erryk's shoulders, intending push yourself up on him, that is, until you feel the heat of him; he is impossibly hot. You examine his face, lips parting at the sight of his furrowed brows. Erryk whimpers when your colder hands come to his cheeks. He wants for nothing else than to warm you.

"Do you want me to leave?" you mutter.

Erryk immediately shakes his head. Arryk immediately calls out your name.

Erryk ignores him, eyes lowering to your neck, or what was left uncovered by your blanket.

You turn to Arryk, licking your lips before asking slowly, "do you want me to leave?"

Arryk gulps, lowering his head.

"You're welcome to leave, brother," Erryk mutters, hands coming atop yours. He hisses at the coolness of your skin and mutters rather pathetically, "please."

You ignore Erryk, eyes on his twin, "Arryk?"

Arryk scoffs, lifting his countenance. He does not say a word. He merely walks to the door and locks it before walking in front of you to kneel beside his brother.

Erryk whines when your hand leaves him. You shush him as you take Arryk's cheek, "the gods gave me two hands to hold you both at once."

Arryk leans into your touch, nearly choking on his spit at the smell of your fragrance on your wrist.

"Please," Erryk begs for the second time, "my skin grows hotter. I need to warm you."

You relish the feel of their cheeks a moment longer before pulling away completely. Their eyes watch you like a hawk and you bask in the attention before pushing the blanket off your shoulders. You sigh and nod, tilting your head back.

They are immediately upon you. Four hands roam you at once, two hot mouths on either side of your neck. They move in sync, never colliding with a hand that did not belong to them, their touches somehow contrasting yet complimenting all at once.

Arryk, ever the more level headed and patient, kisses against your throat slowly and gently. His hands work to undress you, to massage your breasts, to assure you of his devotion. Erryk, ever the more hungry and eager, licks and nips against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, though not in a manner that would ever be unpleasant. His hands work to pleasure you, to make you moan, to make known his yearning.

Like clockwork, each twin finds your most sensitive part, loath to part from your skin. Though one was as greedy as the other in their desire for you, your own desire came before theirs, and never has there been a moment where either of them kept you wanting.

You lean into Arryk, eyes screwing shut as you chase after his mouth. He does not make you wait; his hand comes to the back of your neck and the other moves to the opposite breast, pinching your nipple, knowing it will get you to moan. He immediately feasts on your moan, tongue dancing into your open mouth. His hand kneads your breast to warm it like he did the other.

Erryk, now that you were tilted to one side, takes this opportunity to part your thighs more by bringing your leg over his lap. He easily finds his way past your bloomers and rubs your clit, moaning at the feel of your building wetness.

The twins work in efficient tandem, and soon you're all three of you naked and hot. The bed for the guards are unlike your own; it was barely just enough for one, let alone three, and yet, you made it work; the desire to be close to each other made it work.

It was not enough to have Arryk pressed behind you and Erryk in front, you were desperate to have them inside, and you relayed just that by reaching for Arryk's cheeks and throwing a leg over Erryk's hips. Receptive as ever, Arryk kisses your hand and Erryk rubs your thigh.

"I need you both," you mutter.

"You have us," Arryk assures, rubbing your belly.

Erryk manages a kiss on your jaw, "who do you want first, my princess?"

"Both."

"Fuck," Erryk tightens his hold on your thigh.

Arryk's brow furrow, "are you certain?"

You whimper at the feel of fingers brushing between your legs. You mewl as someone pumps in and out you. You arch your back and ride out the sensations, "please."

"She's more than ready, brother."

"We should make her peak first."

"No," you whine, eyes opening to look at them both, "I can take it."

They are about to protest, but their words are smothered by how you grind back into Arryk and grab Erryk's cock, each as hard as the other. You pant, "we've done it before."

Arryk squeezes your hip. His voice is heavy, "a-are you certain?"

"We do not want to hurt you," Erryk softly offers.

You nod and turn to Arryk, kissing him reassuringly. You then turn to Erryk doing the same as you stroke him a few times before guiding him into you. His reaction is instant, he moans when his tip feels your wetness, and the only reason he does not plunge into you is because he holds your comfort higher than his own need.

Arryk kisses your shoulder as he leans into you. The first stretch is the one met with most resistance and he, along with his brother, always ensure you have ample time to adjust to them before even thinking of their own comfort. It's all worth it in the end, because, gods, when they're both sunked in, the feel is maddening.

The sounds that you emit when they begin to move starts soft, but both of them know better than to think it would remain. As soon as they begin to pick up the pace, they muffle your mouth with their own, assuring you have enough room to breathe though your sounds are garbled.

In truth, they could only dampen the noise so much, as there was the sinful sound of wet skin slapping to account for. Soon, the thrusting and squelching became unmistakably lewd. Soon, dampening the uncontrollable sounds scratching up your throat became near impossible.

Faster and faster and deeper and deeper and hotter and hotter and wetter and wetter— then snap.

It was good that Arryk knew your body so well that he clamped his hand over your mouth just before you clenched around their cocks. The sound that left you was loud, loud and to the bone obscene. You make another sound at the feel of them pulsing and twitching inside of you; the twins single-mindedly ride out the pleasure raging across you all with increasingly sloppier thrusts.

Arryk eventually pulls his hand off your mouth, only to replace it with his mouth, and Erryk kisses you soon after. You three remain entangled like this, hot and satisfied. You want nothing more than to sleep in their arms.

An instant stream of hot seed spills down your thighs when they pull out. You whimper in protest, never liking it when they leave you before you are ready. You're rarely ready.

They tell you what they always do, they'd never leave if they hadn't just done so, and they ought to clean you up.

And they do; they clean you up and you whimper some more, this time to complain about the cold. So there, in that tiny bed, all three of you slept, keeping each other warm.

That's when Daemon starts from his own bed, heart racing, body sweating. He is severely disoriented as he turns to the window, blinded by the morning sun, then to space on the bed beside him. He heaves as he scans the emptiness, mind racing with the terrible nightmare he had woken up from.

He scratches his eyes as tears begin to prick in its corners. He jumps, throwing the blanket aside and forfeiting slippers as he marches off. He reaches the door, but then he starts when he hears a squeal.

You gasp, one hand on your chest, another on the door sill for balance. You had just emerged from the bath, startled to see him sprinting off.

Daemon immediately comes to your side, gripping your arm. He notices the smell of your soap first, then the presence of your servants behind you second. He gives them a look and leads you off, silently dismissing them.

Your servants scurry off as Daemon leads you to your vanity.

You look at him, noticing the manic expression on his face, "is everything alright?"

He does not turn to you as he sits you down.

"Is there somewhere you need to be?"

"You," he blurts and shakes his head rapidly, "I was looking for you."

You watch him scratch his eyes. He takes the comb on your vanity and only once he's untangling your hair do you see from his reflection that he looked distraught and teary. You mutter, "Daemon-"

"When did you come bed?"

Your brows quirk and you're about to respond, until he yanks through a tangle, causing you to wince.

Daemon stops and immediately shakes his head as he looks at your reflection, "I did not mean to."

You frown, slowly enunciating, "Dae-"

"Do not answer," he clenches your comb in his hand.

He looks erratic. Your heart rate picks up, "what?"

"I change my mind. I do not want to know when you came to bed," he shakes his head, combing through your hair again. You swear you see his hands shake as he does. He whispers to himself, "or if you came back at all."

You do not catch it, but you do catch his hand, forcing him to stop combing.

Daemon shivers as you come to a stand. You look at him, face falling at the tears so suddenly streaming down his face. You furrow your brows and reach for his cheek. You are taken aback when he pulls away.

You gulp, unsure if you should step forward or back. You decide to stay put and slowly call out to him.

Daemon wipes his face, "I-"

"Is it the wake?"

"..."

Your own eyes begin to water, "... did you, perhaps, have a nightmare?"

He is at a loss for words. He flinches when you take a step forward.

You watch him closely as you raise your hand. He does not move away up until you touch his arm. You must admit, the way in which he shrugs you off stings. Still, you compose yourself with a sigh and nod. "Very well," you step back.

His hand raises, "wait."

You are rendered frozen when he grabs your arm. Your chest begins to tighten and your eyes begin to water against yourself. You shrug and chuckle dryly, "I do not understand."

Daemon's face is pained as he releases you. He lowers his head and steps back, "neither do I."

You both stand there for a moment. You wait for him to say something but he never does. In truth, Daemon was waiting for you to do the same.

He was rather disappointed to hear you say, "perhaps you should take a bath."

He watches you wipe the tears off your cheek and wonders why it was tears found you so easily. Was it your affliction? Or just him? He nods, "very well."

Your gaze is fixed upon him as he heads to the bathroom. You sigh deeply, sitting back in your vanity chair to gather yourself.

[darkbluekies]

God i want a dark!dr.kry fic soo bad. I read your most recent silas fic and I thought it was so good i ATE IT UP

Things you shouldn't see

Doctor!yandere x reader Summary: you've finally realized what type of man Dr Kry is, and what he is capable of doing. Warnings: murder, bruises, yandere, poison etc. Word count: 2.3k

Your crying hurts him, it really does, but he can’t be soft. Not now. You had tried to escape again. If he hadn’t come back in time to catch you in the door, God knows what could have happened to you. 

“Please, please don’t”, you sob as he cuffs your wrists to the bed’s railing with belt-looking leather. “Please, I’m sorry.”

“Spare your voice, Y/N”, he tells you sharply. “Begging and pleading won’t work — you're not a child. You put yourself in this situation, didn’t you? How about we take some adult consequences?” He fixes the last buckle. “Too tight?”

You don't answer, you only cry. Dr Kry grabs your chin softly to direct your attention back to him. 

“Y/N, listen to me”, he says sternly. “Are the restraints too tight? Yes or no? Don’t lie.”

“No”, you sob. 

“Good. You know why I’m doing this, right? I don’t think it’s funny.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Stop with the bullshit, Y/N. I caught you in the damn door, Y/N.” He sighs frustratedly and runs a hand through his blonde hair. “I can’t let this slip. You almost escaped from me once, remember? I’m not letting that happen again. I’m going to go get you dinner and you are going to get yourself together until I’m back, okay?”

You nod slightly. When he's exited the room, you break out into sobs again. Have to get them out of your system before he returns. You hate him. Hate him so much.

He's back ten minutes later with two cardboard boxes filled with food. He looks somewhat pleased that you're not crying anymore. He stands by his desk.

“You don't understand that I want what's best for you”, Dr Kry says while opening the plastic lids. “If you did, you wouldn't try to do stupid stuff like this.”

“Turn it off”, you say through gritted teeth.

He glances at the air purifier, already knowing what you’re talking about.

“No, I will not”, he says simply. 

“You're killing me!”

Dr Kry scoffs and dumps your foodbox on your legs.

“If I wanted you dead, Y/N, you'd already be in the mortuary”, he says and rolls over to you on his stool. “But as you can tell by your current status in your room, I don't.”

He picks up the fork and holds a bite of potato to your lips. You refuse to open your mouth. 

“Are we doing this?” he asks with raised eyebrows. “Do I need to be mean?”

“Please don’t”, you whisper, scared. 

“You don’t want me to be mean?”

You shake your head quickly. 

“Good, me neither”, Dr Kry says. “Glad that we can agree on something. Open your mouth now.”

You open your mouth enough for him to put in the fork in your mouth. Dr Kry notices how you fight back the tears and sighs in defeat. 

“If you really want to cry, then do it”, he says quietly. 

It’s a trick. He actually doesn’t want you to cry, and you know that. But the tear that runs down your cheek can’t be brought back. You flinch when his hand brushes against your cheek to wipe it softly. He holds another fork of potato and meat to your mouth. You grimace slightly. 

“Just eat and you’ll get to sleep”, Dr Kry promises you.

“Turn it off”, you whisper. “Please.”

Dr Kry sighs and walks over to the air purifier, turning it off. The soft buzzing finally, finally stopped. Dr Kry can tell that you relax in your restraints. 

“Thank you”, you whisper without looking at him. 

“I’ll have to turn it on again”, he says. 

“Why?” 

“Because it keeps you where I want you. It’s much easier than keeping you cuffed to the bed like this.”

You tug at the restraints, as if you suddenly remember that you’re wearing them. Dr Kry’s hand shoots out over your right wrist. 

“Stop”, he says. “Don’t do that. I don’t like to see bruises on you. Just let it be. Give in, alright?”

You glance down at his large hand and grow cold. Could he break your wrist? Could he actually hurt you if he really wanted to? Without tools, without medicine and drugs?

“Open your mouth”, Dr Kry and removes his hand to give you the fork full of food. 

This time, you open your mouth without fuss. He smiles, pleased.

“Have I fucked up for myself now?” you mumble without looking at him.

“Just a tad bit”, Dr Kry smiles and wipes some sauce of your lips with his thumb. “But it's nothing that we can't restore.”

She had seen it, and although she tried to convince herself that she was overthinking, she couldn't bring herself to admit that everything was okay with Dr Kry’s patient — or Dr Kry for that matter. There has always been something with him that has rubbed her the wrong way. He's always been polite and helpful, but she thinks that it's a facade. There is something he's hiding, she can tell that there's a certain darkness in his eyes. And the fact that they never see, hear or get any reports about his patient — despite being here for so long — worries her.

One day, she decides to sneak inside. You’re lying in the hospital bed, sleeping soundly. But other than that, the room is empty. The woman notices how your wrists are … cuffed to the side of the bed. She sneaks over to you and carefully shakes your shoulder. You open your eyes slowly, and then dart them open. In pure fear, you start to tug at the restraints. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” the woman shrieks. “I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“Who are you?!” you gasp. “Where’s Dr Kry?!”

“I don’t know, please be quiet, I’m not going to hurt you.”

You eventually start to calm down. 

“Why are you cuffed to the bed?” the woman asks carefully, feeling a shiver run down her spine. “What has he done to you?”

“Please help me”, you beg. 

“I saw that you tried to leave the room before … and that he snatched you back.”

“I-I will.”

“Please help me, I’m begging you, he’s killing me!” you nod at the air purifier. “He’s poisoned it! You have to help me!”

She is just about to unbuckle the leather strands keeping you to the bed when the door opens. You meet eyes with Dr Kry and feel how your entire body goes numb. 

Shit.

His eyes glare at the woman as he slowly closes the door behind him, locking it shut. 

“Can I help you?” he asks coldly. “What are you doing with my patient?”

The woman spins around and stutters in fear. 

“Who allowed you to come in here?” Dr Kry asks, sounding suspicious — and extremely angry, although he tries to hide it. “Speak up!”

“I-I …”, the woman stutters. 

Dr Kry walks closer. You’ve never seen his body language this … territorial before. It’s almost animalistic. 

“What have they told you?” he asks the woman. 

“Nothing!” the woman shrieks. 

With one quick glance at you, he scoffs with a small, cold smile on his face. 

“I wouldn’t believe anything they say, ma’am”, he says amusedly, although you’re sure that he’s angry like a bee. “They’re sick, they’re not thinking clearly. Seems like we have to talk after this.”

“Don’t be angry at them”, the woman says, finally collecting herself. “You are the one abusing your position. You should be the one who’s getting yelled at!”

“Oh, I’m not mad at my patient. How could I? If they don’t know what’s good for themselves, how could I ever expect them to know when to speak …” He gave you a warning look, “... and when to shut up?” He looked back at the woman. “They’re sick, after all.”

“Why are you keeping them prisoner?”

Dr Kry puts his hands into his pockets, shrugging. “I’m not keeping anyone prisoner. Did they tell you that?”

“You’ve poisoned the air purifier.”

“Why would I ever do that?” he laughs. “That’s absurd! You don’t think I have other things to do? A real job?” He takes a step closer. He’s almost reaching her by now. “Listen, my patient has been reading a lot of fantasy stories while being emitted here, and they must have spun their head out of control. Being in a hospital for as long as they have, all alone, must mess with ones head a bit. Don’t worry about it.”

He has slammed it over the nurse’s head, striking her to the floor. You fight against the restraints, but they’re as stuck as stone. Dr Kry continues to hit the poor nurse with the metal pipe, causing blood to splatter over the walls — and you. You can’t breathe when the red liquid lands on your face, too horrified to even move. The screams from the woman turns into moans of pain, then sobs, then silence. Dr Kry huffs and gets up from the ground, letting go of the metal pipe that clinks against the floor. His white coat and blue overalls are drenched in blood, and his face is covered in red. You’re shivering in your bed and meet his eyes with wide open eyes. 

Dr Kry walks over to his desk. You can tell how he picks up a metal pipe used for the IV-stand you use every now and then.

“No!” you scream, but it’s too late. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t want you to see that”, he pants lowly. 

Sobs start to exit your body. Dr Kry hurries over to you, sinking down on his knees by the bed, almost lying his upper body into yours. 

“I’m sorry, little one”, he whispers and cups your cheeks. 

“Don’t touch me!” you try to scream while doing your best to turn your head away, but his strong grip is forcing you to stay still, forces you to look at him. 

“I didn’t want you to see that”, he repeats. “Why did she have to come and but into our business, hm? Oh, please don’t blame yourself for her death. It’s not your fault.”

He notices how you’re trying to rip your head away from him. 

“I know that you’re afraid”, he says. “It was not your fault, okay? I don’t blame you, I could never blame you, you know that.” He wipes your tears. “Please, don’t cry. I’m not going to do it again.”

You’re unsure if you’ve ever sobbed this harshly before in your life. The cries ripple through your body, forcing your chest to lift with every sob. It hurts, like an unwelcomed workout. Dr Kry holds your face against his chest, hushing as he hugs your head close to him. You can feel how fast his heart is beating, and it makes you nauseous. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up”, Dr Kry says and unbuckles you. 

You hesitate getting out of bed, glancing careful down at the dead body bleeding out on the floor. Dr Kry hurries to pick you up in his arms and walk into the bathroom. He closes the door behind him and places you down in the tub. Carefully, he removes your hospital gown and turns on the shower. You refuse to look his way. 

“Listen, Y/N”, he says and sinks down outside the tub. “There are things you shouldn’t see … and this was one of them. I don’t want you to think of me as a monster. I’m a realist, okay?”

“Is that what you’re going to do to me if I try to leave again?” you cry. 

“No! Don’t even say such nonsense. That’s absurd. How could you ever think that?”

You find it ironic that he grows offended. He starts to wash off the blood from your face with the gentle stream of the shower. 

He takes one of your wrists in hand and lets his thumb run over the deep mark from the leather. 

“I told you not to fight against it”, he whispers with a sigh. “We’ll have to put bandage on that.”

Dr Kry continues to wash the blood off of you and his own hands. You follow the red water down the drain. 

He puts the shower head back on the hanger and tells you to wait there until he comes back. You hug your knees close to your chest and watch how he disappears out of the bathroom. You can hear how he starts to clean up the body outside the closed door. This is what happens to the people who believe you. Those that trust Dr Kry’s words about you being too sick to function, and start to hallucinate, are no help … but those that are never get far enough. 

You shiver from cold air hitting your wet, naked body and bring your knees even closer to you. There’s a new form of silence in the room, a silence that eats you up from the inside … and yet, silence had never been this loud before. You would be able to hear a needle drop to the floor on the other side of the hospital.

It had taken wells to gather the courage to try to run away again, and it had been shattered in the moment of two seconds. Your hope had been sparked again when you saw the nurse, and knew that she was one of the few that actually believed you. 

You turn your face down into your knees and cry in realization that you’ll never get to leave the hospital as long as Dr Kry is around. In time, the poisoned air purifier will have killed you … but you’re unsure that you’ll get to leave the hospital even then.

I’m going to die.

[tritoch]

one thing I find neat about Emet-Selch is that his chauvinism is so intense that it actually prevents him from making the strongest possible case for the unique moral goodness of the ancients, and that this same mental distortion ties into his classic final fantasy need to turn into a Horrible Final Form Monstrosity for your final fight

(for my part I think any minor unique moral goodness the ancients possess they have due to their status as demigods living in eden before the fall. even if they really are morally/intellectually/spiritually/magically/etc. superior to every modern eorzean on a 1:1 level it still doesn't change anything because 1) they are mythical and impossible, that's the whole point and 2) even if they weren't, they still have no particular claim to existence that is superior to anyone else's, no matter how good they are. but the point here is the case Emet-Selch is trying to make, which is that they are more "worthy" of life.)

when he's setting you up for the final amaurot sequence, Emet-Selch hits you with this one:

it's a solid line! stops the party cold for a second.

it's also...not that impressive. do I think if we called a big world meeting that half of everyone would just jump up to be chosen? maybe, maybe not. but, sorry: we're having a big world meeting? are we also demigods with their every material need fulfilled in this version? do we have a one world government that almost everyone seems to fully trust telling us that it knows for real a way to stop the meteor heading towards earth? because honestly i think as soon as we start creating structural similarities like that, it becomes a lot more likely. and every step you take towards making the comparison happen on level ground makes the idea that the ancients were possessed of some unique moral fiber that made them capable of this sacrifice (as opposed to the undeniable abilities in magic and global governance that actually enabled it) seem less and less likely.

and especially if you consider it in the context of what actual people are like. human (and presumably eorzean) history is replete with examples of people sacrificing themselves to save others, even though none of us are immortal wizard philosophers. i don't know how the white-room thought-experiment "will half of you die to save the others???" turns out. but do i think, across a grand rolling catastrophe, that half our population would sacrifice itself to save the other half in a million individual acts of sacrifice to save a parent, a child, a lover, a friend, a stranger? that seems significantly more plausible. altruism and sacrifice for others is even pretty frequent in animals! it's not a very unique moral behavior!

(stanford encyclopedia of philosophy on biological altruism)

but that's not the only sacrifice the ancients made. roll the tape, hythlodaeus!

...Yet oh how the star had suffered. So many species lost. The land was blighted, the waters poisoned, and even the wind had ceased to blow. Once more did our people give of themselves to Zodiark. Another half of our race sacrificed to cleanse the world; to ensure that trees and grasses and myriad tiny lives would sprout and grow and flourish.

(every time I read this speech and hit the ff1/3/5 ref about the land and waters and wind i become mylongestyeahboyever.avi)

this is the step beyond, and it's what separates the ancients from modern humans. they viewed themselves as stewards of the star and really meant it; whatever other criticisms you might level, you can't doubt the depths of their commitment. and this i think really does make them morally distinct from modern people, or at least raises that possibility in a much more compelling way than the first sacrifice. half of the living population sacrificing itself not in a moment of duress and apocalypse but in a moment of calm? when the sacrifice isn't for anything but plants and animals and some tiny proto-eorzeans? that kind of cold, calculated, long-term altruism, aimed at people and living beings that are nothing like you...that does feel like something a little more unique, more worth preserving. even in just the text of the game, we can say with real certainty that the ancients were at least more capable of facing their problems and had greater moral integrity and care for the world than, say, the people who made ra-la.

but emet-selch can't ever say that because rejecting and dishonoring the decision the ancients made as stewards of the star is his primary goal.

like, "my people were uniquely morally good. half the living population sacrificed themselves not for their loved ones or for the survival of their people but simply for the world. for the trees and grasses and the wind and the water. for the humblest insects and for the summer breeze and the tides." that fucks! damn, you got me there! i watch enough people throw aluminum cans in the trash on a weekly basis that i find this sincerely moving and beyond the seeming abilities of my own brethren! oh no, i'm being persuaded by the fascist immortal space wizard!

"and therefore, because they are uniquely morally good, we are going to sacrifice and kill the very things they gave their lives to save, so we can have them back :)" well, shit. i'm experiencing some dissonance here.

but you can't actually lie to yourself as long as emet-selch without distorting your understanding of the truth. you cannot choose to see the world falsely half the time and clearly the other half. in committing to self-deceit and willful ignorance regarding the value of the modern world, emet-selch blinds himself not just to the world as it is but to the ancients as they were. if he could describe accurately the ways in which the ancients were genuinely noble and benevolent, he would also have to able to see clearly how he has entirely deviated from that ideal. and he cannot do that and stay on the path he has chosen, so he simply chooses not to see things accurately.

i cannot help but link this blindness of his to his trial. here, at what seems to emet-selch to be the last stand of the ancients, he says to you "to be clear this fight IS a metaphor, and in that metaphor i stand in for the Entire Unsundered World."

and yet, in standing against you, he betrays both the customs of the ancients and his very title, itself a direct signifier of the mission he was charged with as one of the convocation of fourteen: "to ensure that all is right in creation, that our star may know a brighter future." contra elidibus, for whom remembering his duty to the ancients is one and the same act as remembering his name, emet-selch declares his own to be mere pretense. and that's before we even reach the matter of his transformation.

emet-selch believes the only way he can save the ancients is to betray their principles, forget their greatest triumphs, and abandon their trappings. he renounces almost everything of the ancients, save for his pale and sad and faceless amaurot, in the hopes of bringing them back.

i am reminded a little of borges's three versions of judas, a short story which uses the lens of fictional literary criticism (appropriate for a story as interested in competing narrative interpretations as shadowbringers is) to recast the betrayal of christ by judas not as the greatest of sins but as the greatest of sacrifices.

The ascetic, for the greater glory of God, vilifies and mortifies his flesh; Judas did the same with his spirit. He renounced honor, morality, peace and the kingdom of heaven, just as others, less heroically, renounce pleasure. With terrible lucidity he premeditated his sins.

and, in turn, the sardonic footnote to that very same line, which unsettles that sentiment as soon as it has been presented:

Borelius inquires mockingly: “Why didn’t he renounce his renunciation? Or renounce the idea of renouncing his renunciation?”

[ripplestitchskein]

I find the general idea of Stolitz being “toxic” to be fucking hilarious. It’s thrown around so easily like it should be accepted that they fit this definition and….they really, really don’t lol. Like they have a pretty chill and common miscommunication and personal issues interfering with wants and desires conflict. Like I cannot stress how fucking chill it is. They don’t actively hurt one another intentionally, neither are trying to murder the other directly or indirectly, they are not on opposing sides of a larger external conflict save for inherent world class dynamics, they don’t manipulate each other or work against each other, etc. They say hurtful things and argue and are oblivious to the other’s issues but like, in a fairly normal neurodivergence and historical trauma driven way.

They do begin with a mutually agreed upon transactional sexual dynamic, which is often the crux of these “Stolitz is soooo toxic” arguments to the point the really intense anti’s cry SA. A transactional sexual dynamic Blitz was so okay with when it is no longer agreeable to the other party, and they communicate that and change the parameters in a way that gives him full autonomy, he spends half an episode trying to return to that dynamic. Much trauma. Very coerced. ����

There is a power imbalance but it only exists in the sense that one person is societally more powerful by nature of his birth and ignorant to it by nature of his upbringing. Stolas does not force Blitz into said transactional sex dynamic by exerting his power or influence so it’s largely irrelevant save for how it impacts Blitz’s personal self worth issues and it is never from a place of malicious intent. Which is what matters in media? Character intent and decisions are literally the crux of the narrative?? Stolas figures out it’s a problem for the type of relationship he really wants to have and corrects it and even goes above and beyond to ensure that Blitz will suffer no fall out from his choice if he decides to not pursue their romantic relationship further. Like, toxic WHOMST? Just, don’t talk to me about toxic until they get hot and bothered about how well the other tried to actively murder them. We have had zero poisonings or major betrayals in this ship and ya’ll throwing around toxic like words have no meaning.

“But he called Blitz his impish little plaything! He thinks of Blitz as a toy! As a sub-species!” Or maybe, just maaaaybe the sexually inexperienced character who is making shit up as he goes along based on his canonically identified incorrect perceptions of what the other wants/likes as well as ignorance of his own power and position thought he was just being sexy and cute? Just maybe? Like can we apply a smidgeon of deductive reasoning based on the sum rather than the parts? As a treat.

It just speaks to what I have observed as probable immaturity/lack of life experience driving a lot of the criticism or straight up vitriol regarding the show’s major conflicts. A very black and white application of moral purity that deems anything not rainbows and sunshine as toxic and where the ultimate goal is some nebulous and frankly hella ableist concept of “healthy”.

A similar thing plays out with regards to Octavia and the classification of Stolas as a “bad parent” because he is pursuing a relationship and has issues of his own to deal with on top of parenting. Heaven forbid a closeted gay man raised in isolation going through some late in life awakenings is not perfectly navigating an ill defined relationship and a divorce and raising a child on top of his myriad of mental health issues. What gets me the most is she’s not even a young child, she’s 17 possibly even 18 at this point in the timeline but the way people act he abandoned an infant at a flophouse to get his rocks off with someone who fears he will smite them down with his incredible Goetian might and if they refuse they’ll be living out of a gutter eating dirt because they wouldn’t perform sexually for him. Instead of the in-universe reality where the most egregious thing Stolas has done is fail to consider his daughters perspective and how this impacts her, made some inappropriate sexual comments really early on in front of her when he was still excited, and forgot, during a major life upheaval, a promise to watch a meteor shower he made to her like a decade ago. He didn’t even forget the promise itself, he just forgot what day it was. Like I forget shit I promised my kids last week much less when they were like 5.

Like there is such a huge disconnect between actual toxic behavior portrayals in media with regards to relationships and parenting, or hell toxic relationships and parents in real life, and what is going on in Helluva Boss. This is ignoring the fact that the actual universe of the show, which is what should be the metric when examining character dynamics not reality, has established real toxicity in both relationships and behavior, and has shown us time and time again how that toxicity contrasts with our characters and their relationships, be it Stolitz or Fizzmodeous or Moxxie/Millie or the parenting dynamics of Blitz & Loona and Stolas & Octavia. We have examples of toxic relationships, and we have examples of toxic parents in this world and we’ve been shown that the relationships of the main characters is in opposition to them.

But even if you were to take the, imo incorrect, position of applying real world considerations to fictional worlds it still doesn’t track as toxic.

Do you realize how many sexual transactions and power imbalances occur in relationships everyday as just a matter of course?

Like “I’ll wear that outfit you like if you do this for me?” Normal, Transactional. Accepted straight couple in a sitcom premise. I would wager “I’ll preform this sex act if you do X” is said in one way or another without anyone batting an eye a hundred times a day. And that’s ignoring the implication that transactional sex is inherently problematic. It isn’t, it’s the coercive aspect that is an issue and even then we get real handwavey about it in reality when the situation isn’t explicitly coercive.

“I’m a police officer/government agent/politician/media influencer/sole household income earner that has the ability to fuck up your entire life/reputation/financial stability just by nature of my job and how well we are getting along” is perfectly fine and normal. No one would suggest that a police office or government agent can only be involved with someone of equal systemic or social power in reality. Do my partner and I have a toxic power imbalance because I am the sole working person in our household and they are a stay at home parent and I hold all the financial power? No, that’s fucking silly.

Not to be all “sweet summer children I grew up in the trenches of toxic” about it but it’s the most baffling part of this fandom that a pretty low key conflict and relationship dynamic, where neither party is actively trying to hurt the other and has approached the entire thing from a place of earnest confusion and ignorance and is working through it in a pretty normal way is classified as “toxic”. Get back to me when they are poisoning each other, have killed several of each other’s loved ones and there is necromancy involved.

[bioethicists]

beer killed my father . he had a disease which destroyed his body and strained his relationships with his wife, his friends, and his children. Alcohol destroys everything it touches, theres a reason you see so many liquor stores in poor neighborhoods. don’t be fucking obtuse. Prohibition obviously doesn’t work, but I wish alcohol was taxed higher. And i want the CEO of Heineken on the guillotine right after Jeff Bezos.

before anything, i want to let you know that i am incredibly sorry about your father. alcohol has decimated entire generations of my family, played a crucial role in the neglectful family structure i spent the first 19 years of my life suffering under, + played a minor but not insignificant role in my brother's death. i would never undermine or dismiss that in anyone.

i used to feel very similarly to you, in large part because my mother is a recovering alcoholic who raised me to believe that alcohol is a magic poison which turns people into monsters + i, being her child, probably inherited a disease which would also turn me into a monster if i chose to drink. it's a deeply painful + understandable response to the pain that alcohol can cause.

my first question is, does alcohol really "destroy everything it touches"? are there not millions of people who engage with alcohol, in varying degrees of recreational use, who experience minimal or no negative impacts? or do you believe that everyone who drinks alcohol in any capacity is experiencing severe destruction in their lives as a result? does the existence of people for whom alcohol enriches their lives (or is a neutral presence) at all invalidate your experience, or your father's?

my second question is, you've identified that there are 'so many liquor stores in poor neighborhoods' (i would add there is a lot of alcohol in rich neighborhoods, just distributed in less stigmatized ways, like boutique wineries + fancy bars), do you think that companies are strategically attempting to create alcohol dependencies among poor people, or do you think that poverty creates the pain, hopelessness, + desperation which can fuel an alcohol habit (which is then exacerbated by intergenerational trauma + community alcohol culture).

i feel no allegiance to liquor companies- they absolutely do make the bulk of their profits off of people who are drinking in a way that is destroying their lives (unsure if i trust the exact scope of the research in that link but i trust the gist). however, liquor companies love the disease model, because it exempts them from responsibility. if alcoholism is truly a genetic disease, then liquor companies, bars, package stores hold no fault in the development of destructive drinking habits + community norms (natasha Schüll discusses this in her book about gambling addiction)- the people were already sick + would be getting it somewhere else, anyway, right? but as you have correctly identified, liquor companies help create the structures which turn alcohol use into an accessible + normalized mode of self-destruction.

my third question is, will taxing liquor help the real problem? yes, it reduces alcohol consumption, but does it reduce addiction? or does it make cheapskates like me say "i'm not fucking paying for that" while individuals who consume alcohol compulsively either eat the cost or turn to more illicit ways of obtaining alcohol. or, rephrased, is the problem that alcohol is too accessible? is alcohol a magical poison which turns 'normal' people into 'alcoholics'? alternatively, is alcoholism a genetic condition, unrelated to any outside circumstances, which is triggered by drinking?

or: is alcoholism one of many ways in which people who are experiencing hopelessness, pain, grief, poverty, trauma, etc use to numb themselves, harm themselves, + make life feel more bearable? at this point, i do believe there is at least a temperament factor which makes people more likely to use substances over other forms of escape (hence why my brother used substances while i turned to anorexia + do not struggle with substance use). are we actually addressing the problem if we make it more expensive (thus, mind you, further impoverishing people with alcohol addictions!)? or are we shifting the pain these people are experiencing to either other avenues (opioids, other drugs, totally different ways of coping which are often just as destructive) or an unregulated, underground alcohol market.

the way you are viewing alcohol, alcohol is a unique substance which is manufacturing or feeding illness in people in order to make them behave in ways which destroy their lives + the lives of others. the way i am viewing it, alcohol is a presence which can fill a void that is being created in people's lives as a response to structural, communal, or social suffering. when alcohol is painted as the cause of this pain, we are able to look the other way from a which world is structured to cause an immense amount of people to suffer needlessly. at the same time, the common sense observation that many of us engage with alcohol in ways which do not destroy our lives, as well as the knowledge that prohibition does not work, prevents the erasure of alcohol from public or private life.

who benefits from the belief that alcohol is a uniquely corrupting substance? what lessons did we actually learn from prohibition- is trying to do it to a lesser degree (make alcohol less accessible) actually going to do anything? when the price of opioids went up due to dea crackdowns, did people stop buying opioids or did the market flood with cheap + deadly fentanyl? is the problem that people are drinking or that they are suffering?

[thethronezone]

Hello!

I enjoy your Primarchs and their children so much. However, an idea pops up and I wonder what do you think of them with pet? What kind of pet each will have and how they raise them?

Thanks!

Mortarion gets his kid a turtle. Quiet, relatively small, won't run away. They live long, which means Mortarion won't have to worry about his kid breaking out in tears because their pet died from old age any time this century. Actually does quite intensive research on different turtle species to make sure his kid gets a good pet. Gets them a tank for it and everything. (I don't know how but that turtle will somehow survive the Heresy).

Fulgrim spends a long time thinking about the perfect pet for his child before eventually he decides to settle for a classic; a cat. A very rare, ridiculously expensive breed. It's a good thing he gave it to his kid because had that cat belonged to Fulgrim then he would have treated it like an accessory, I'm sorry but that's the truth. His kid don't give a shit about what breed it is, they name is something silly like Stinkus ("Because they stinky!") and Fulgrim has to live with that.

Have you seen that artwork with gladiator Angron sitting next to a dog? Yeah, I love the idea that Angron likes dogs so, with that in mind, I think he would give his kid a dog. A wardog, of course, bred for combat. Still just a pup though. Practically shoves the puppy in the kid's arms. "This is your responsibility now". He acts like this is only a lesson on responsibility but he just wants his kid to be happy, ok? Has to look away whenever he sees his kid play with the dog because if he doesn't then everyone will see the soft expression on his face.

Magnus gifts his kid a Gyrinx, a cat-like xeno animal that forms strong bonds with their owner and enhances their psyker powers. Like this, the pet is not just a trusted companion but also helps them focus their growing psychic abilities. Does urge his child to be kind and gentle with the animal, they may not be sentient but they are still a living being with feelings. Also advices his kid to read up on Gyrinx and learn more about the species, so they can better take care of them.

If his kid is going to have a pet, then Perturabo demands it to be something useful. That's why he ends up giving his kid a falcon. Or, well, the 30k equivalent of a falcon. It's a bird of prey that they will train to hunt and fetch things. Perturabo honestly sees it less as a pet and more of a tool. Probably names the bird for them because he does not trust that they will chose a proper name. The bird is named Aegis or Talon or something basic like that.

After some careful thinking, Alpharius and Omegon gives their kid some kind of... chinchilla? Squirrel? It's a xeno animal, small enough that a child can hold in their hands, covered in fine fur and it has ridiculously big ears. It also has razor sharp teeth and its saliva is poisonous. Their kid is fine though, they have the antidote in case they get bit. See it as practice! Be nice and get the animal to like you and you have a cute pet! Be crueal and neglectful and you'll get mauled by small teeth. A very valuable lesson.

Lorgar gives his child a bird, something similar to a dove. Small, only the size of a baseline's palm, and with soft coos that sound like bells. He thinks it's a good pet that will teach them to be gentle and careful with those smaller than them. Then, as his child grow older and more responsible, he gifts them more birds until eventually, they have a whole flock. What? His kid deserves all the birds in the world.

Of course Horus gets his kid a dog. Then another one. And one more. His reasoning? What kid does not like dogs? Kid ends up with 5 dogs that follows them EVERYWHERE. They sleep in the kid's bed, follow them to their lessons, eat by the table etc.. They are truly inseparable and the kid honestly spends more time with their dogs than they do with people. Horus then has the gall to act surprised when his kid tells him they like dogs more than humans. Like, geez Horus, how do you think this happened?

At first, Konrad didn't even consider giving his kid a pet but then he heard them say they felt lonely (they don't have any friends) and so he decided to get them an animal. So he gives them a rat. Just a random rat he found. It's small and easy to replace if something happens to it. Didn't really expect his kid to grow so attached to it. It can do tricks now? It responds to the name 'Haunter'? What?

Contrary to what some of you might think, Sanguinius does NOT get his kid a bird. No, Sanguinius gets them a cat. A real fluffy one that needs to be brushed daily. Unlike Fulgrim, he does not really care about what breed it is, as long as it is healthy and will live a long life. Instills in his kid the importance of being gentle with animals (and people) and to treat them with respect. Is he teaching his kid empathy using a cat? Yes, yes he is.

Ok, so look, Corvus decision to get his kid a pet happens spontaneously. He's away somewhere (mission, meeting, whatever) when suddenly he finds this tiny, jet-black kitten. When he gets close, it hisses and bats its paws at him and he just KNOWNS that his kid will love this thing. Awkwardly gives it to them, telling them to take good care of it. Secretly checks up on the cat, just to make sure his kid is taking care of it. Sneaks it treats and pets it when no one it watching.

Ferrus gets his kid an aquarium full of fish. But like, really, really weird fish, adapted to the extreme circumstances of other planets. I'm talking fish that make deep sea marine life look like guppies in comparison. There's also a couple of crustaceans in there. Mostly sees this as a way to teach is child how living beings adapt to different hardships and get stronger because of them.

Rogal thought long and hard about this. At first he thought the perfect pet would be an ant colony but then one of his brothers said that was a stupid idea so he scratched that idea. So he ends up giving them a bear cub instead. What? It can be tamed. And look, his kid already likes it. Though he still thinks his initial idea with the ant colony was the superior one.

Vulkan choses a lizard native to Nocturne. A dog-sized, sturdy thing, long living and quite pretty, with obsidian scales speckled with the occasional red. A very popular pet for children on Nocturne and he had several himself when he was young. Probably caught it himself and brought it back for his kid on their birthday. Take good care of it, child, these things lives up to a hundred-and-fifty!

Listen, Lion does not want to get his kid an animal. The only animals he know are the beasts that he fought in the forests of Caliban so he does not exactly like animals overall. But if he has to? If he really, REALLY has to get his child a pet? A bunny. Small, quiet and when they grow tired of it, then they can just cook and eat it. Perfect. Gets confused when he mentions eating the rabbit to his kid and they burst out crying. Like, he didn't say it was going to happen NOW. Lion, buddy, they are five years old and you just told them you were planning on eating their adorable little buddy, what did you THINK would happen?

Come on. We all know what animal Leman gives to his kid as a pet. That's right, a fenrisian wolf, still just a pup. Chose this one pup because it reminded him of his kid and he thought they would be the perfect match. Pretty much gives his kid free reign on how they train and nurture the pup though he does urge them to make it clear that they are the leader or else that wolf is gonna walk all over them once it grows up.

Jaghatai is a horse-guy, of course he gives his kid a horse. A young colt that recently lost its mother and needs someone to care for it. Perfect for his kid! When it gets older, they can ride it, and when they grow too large, they can run beside it, just like Jaghatai did when he was their age. Expects them to take good care of the horse but otherwise leaves them to it.

Roboute of course goes with the obvious choice, a dog. On his kid's birthday he hands them a puppy and tells them that this is a big responsibility and that they need to take care of and train this animal with the same dedication that he looks after the Ultramarines. He was being a bit overdramatic but when he sees his kid command the puppy to show off a new trick it learned with the same tone as a general commanding troops, he can't help but feel like he did a great thing.

[orelicia]

Hiee!!:D

I just read your post about the characters' periods and I love it so much!! I've already shared to most of my friends!!! Please make more!!😭/nopressure

"You get periods?!" By MC <3 (pt. 2)

Xeijun's Letters: Thank you so much for the love on the first, This is second one with the younger brothers line..

Pt. 1 || Pt. 2 || Pt. 3 || Pt. 4

Warnings: cannibalism, eating raw meat, mentions of blood and vomiting, poisonous plants, flowers, etc. Almost fem! coded reader? Because I'm fem...so. A bit OCC due to hormonal imbalance in our bois. This is a continuation, a bit different than @/tsukii0002's posts. Go check them out, pls. They're so good! I couldn't add the dancing part though in Asmode's scenario, SORRY! T^T

Satan

Taking the step down from the shop's raised platform, you place the antiseptic cream in the polythene plastic bag, before handing it to Lucifer.

Lucifer was seriously considering his life-choices all the time during this time of the month when Satan's on his period...But he adores his brothers, so who's he to judge??

Okay, maybe a little bit of a judge, BUT COME ON! It's raw meat! With the blood and all...

He deserves to judge a little, but rather not face a smack from your end, so he kept quiet while you two walked home. Satan stayed home from RAD, the others had half days, only you and Lucifer had full..so sad.

"And how long does it last?" he asks, feeling a bit ashamed that he doesn't know it so well, but then again when does Satan ever allow him close enough? But you also seemingly don't know,

"Just comes and goes.."

You and Lucifer sighed in unison, but perked when you heard a scream rip through some road and cross-section alleyway with a familiar green glow..Making you both run, Lucifer ahead of you, as he turned the corner, slipping almost as Lucifer's leather shoes squeaked, before stopping to face..

Satan holding a guy by his throat, against the wall, his tail lashing out, barbed beyond belief, dusty and slightly messy feathers ruffling out from his neck, the scleras of his eyes gone inky black, his fangs baring against the guy with his claws ready to slash him, before Lucifer grabbed him and you used your pact

"Avatar of wrath, STAY!"

You loudly proclaimed, Satan kept thrashing in Lucifer's grip, before freezing in position, giving enough time for the guy to escape, muttering a quick "I owe you my life" before hurrying down the streets, running away.

Satan growled, his claws trying to remove the pact mark's affects to slash whoever was holding him back, as Lucifer held tightly, breathing heavily, "Shhh, Satan...! Stop it this instant" he hissed, his muscular gently holding Satan by his shoulders and Lucifer's one hand was on Satan's head.

Lucifer subconsciously rubbed his thumb across the spam of the area..

you wouldn't mention it before you died, but Satan seemingly melted a bit hearing Lucifer's voice, but you know Satan'd rather DIE than admit that.

You gently pushed back his hair, the pact mark on the right side of your abdomen, right under your arm glowing green gently, as he finally made eye contact with you and smiled brightly, like a child, but then he realized his "prey" got away, so now he just seemed sad and annoyed, while you made Lucifer let him go.

You pact mark stopped glowing, as the pact mark's affected subsided as Satan pushed Lucifer off and clung to you tightly, smiling contently as Lucifer rolled his eyes, ushering you two home. With Satan trying to attempting to cannibalize anyone in the way home, if not you and Lucifer stopped him each time.

By the time you got home, Lucifer had aged 70 years, it seemed, leaving to run back to his room, so you also ushered Satan to his room, promising you'd be there since he was growling at Lucifer, trying to hurt him for being too close to you, poor thing was angry for no reason due to his hormones.

But since Lucifer basically ran away like Levi during a social event, Satan gently kissed you and snuggled his head against you walking off his to room before you went to the kitchen to plate the raw meat and keep the antiseptic somewhere in your pocket as you changed and ushered back.

You walked back to Satan's room, you placed the plate somewhere, pressing your nose, as you saw him scratching his sheets away almost as he pouted.

You gently ruffled his hair, pulling off a feather or two from his back as he shuddered, annoyed at his "nest" which wasn't working, as you fixed it gently for him, piling things, so it's a little deeper. Satan seemed happy enough as he settled as you handed him the plate of the raw meat, giving him the assumption you "hunted" for him, and hopefully, it won't end up with him vomiting over you after over-eating raw meat again.

Satan just seemed happy, his teeth now almost an inch longer and making it harder to close his mouth if not for him chewing on his tail for a comfort like a baby sucks on it's thumb.

You sighed, letting him eat while you plucked off the feathers on his back and neck, or pulled them apart because they were stuck, while admiring Satan's horns, which had gotten an bioluminescent glow which was between sage and sea foam green, just adorable!

Every time you touched it, it glowed in the darkness since Satan refused to turn on the light. Having his eyes already hurt from light, his pupils were so round, almost covering the colour of his irises, he kept his room dark, refuse to let anyone come in, ESPECIALLY his brothers or others, or anyone other than you, basically.

He was of-course fidgety, refusing to actually let you touch him at times or get close, like right now every few minutes, he tensed up,

"I'm fine, 'Tan.." you whispered, hugging his back and kissing his cheek while he tensed, but wiping the blood off your lips, as to not gag at the smell, while he ate and sometimes offered you the raw meat, his tail still sharp and sometimes got irritated by the mattress stuck on it.

You took chance to remove the extra scales from it too, which was rather satisfying, you had to admit..

As he extended his hand with a piece of some part of whatever animal he was eating, "No, thanks, darling" you smiled, or so simply put it in your mouth without chewing or anything before removing it and placing it back to his plate when he wasn't looking, poor thing.

After eating and getting him forcefully cleaned up, yo gently let him lean against you, his body warm and almost borderline burning and feverish, until he finally got assured you're be careful and wouldn't be hurt, as he laid against and his body seemed to cool within seconds, like ice.

His tail tightened around your thigh, a bit scratchy and a cut or two, but you hid it, assuring him you were okay as he snuggled against you, purring loud like a motorboard,

As you felt him smuggle a little piece of raw meat against your mouth as you grumbled, "SATAN!" as he smiled, only kissing you.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus had his feet tapping on the floor, so long...his wings, neon fuschia now as he filed his nails, but somehow only making them sharper as he worriedly pacd the floor, hoping you were coming home.

Asmo was covered in a blanket and fever high due to his periods, so he was tired and even more panicked,

Were you late?! Were you hurt...DID YOU FIND SOMEONE ELSE PRETTIER THAN HIM?!

Nononono...He couldn't lose you, you were...everything.The best experience, the best warmth..the best love, he couldn't bear to think of you with anyone. NO. You were his and he was YOURS.

He'll make sure of it, he knew..As Asmo stood up, wearing a jacket on as he pulled open the door, just in time to see you, holding a large bag with masks, gloves and glasses, like you had gone mining as he felt himself melt,

"You're home!" Asmo said brightly, as you remove your mask and goggles and he immediately pulled you into a kiss, making you place the bag somewhere on the side.

As Asmo pulled away, removing his jacket, he snuggled his face against yours, not even wearing makeup today, so you knew he was over the moon or something to see you, seeing as he never did that.

In his demon, Asmo's wings fluttered gently, brushing against you as you both sat on the bed, while he polished his horns gently, his wings and hors covered in velvety coating and translucent, letting you barely see the clear-pinkish mechanisms of the beehive like structure of his horns or diamond shaped structure of his wings.

You helped him gently polish, though he was skittish, "Ah-No...Thank you" he whispered gently, a blush coating his cheeks a he bashfully let you do it, ever so often pulling away to snuggle deeper, until he was asking you do it constantly,

"Over there, yes-! Thank you"

Asmo smiled, his wings flapping in delight.

You pulled away, letting him relax as you ran to get the bag, and run back to him, kissing his cheek as you get into his nest, handing him the bg as you pulled your mask tighter and your goggles tight too, as he giggled,

"Oh?~ What's this?" he asked, smilin, "Open it!" you said excitedly, hoping he'd like it. Asmo gently tore it, using his finger nails, to find a himself a supply of poisonous plants, fruits, flowers, raw meat, bottles of bodily fluids like blood or some animals and even mushrooms that he liked.

It had nightshade roots, arsenic shrimp blood, sulphur mushrooms, Momonin flowers, Henbane, Foxglove stuff like that...As his smile widened after every item he found,

And god, he was falling more in love as he smiled brightly to you, "Oh my Diavolo...THANK YOU!" he smiled, hugging you tightly and kissing your masked cheeks as you smiled,

"it's nothing.", "it's everything!!" he said brightly.

You pulled the bag towards you, as he smiled and possibly chewed on a little nightshade root, enjoying himself. As oyu pulled a neon bright glowing flower, his room's light were dimmed, seeing as he also couldn't handle light in his eyes.

The flower glowed bright pink with red spots and orange strips, the air around it was softly bubbling and boiling, giving off the smell of burnt plastic mixed with blood and quite possibly like sulphur, god forbid how much you had to beg Barbatos to find you one of these for Asmo.

Asmo felt himself bright ten times more, his white scleras going black as he hugged you so tightly, you felt like you were gonna pop, seeing as he couldn't kiss you because of the things you were wearing, he squeezed you in a hug.

Otherwise you'd be ravaged right here and right now.

He held the flower close to him, as you gently pinned it behind his ear, Asmo was taking the chance to gossip with you, he got even cattier on his periods, it seemed, who knew it was possible?

As you and Asmo spoke, his hands were travelling everywhere as he gently pressed himself against you. Asmo's fingers running through his hair gently, as he snuggled.

Rubbing his inner wrists against your neck as Asmo cupped your face, placing a kiss or two on top of your head as he spoke, rubbing his cheek against yours otherwise.

Finishing his third nightshade root and second vial of blood, his manicured fingers gently stroked your hair, before trying to pull off your mask as you held his wrist,

"I-I wanna kiss you..though!" he said, pouting as you saw his black scleraed eyes glow and get glassy and watery, "My love, Asmo..you just had three nightshade roots.., ", "So?" he whispered, almost crying.

You sighed, holding him closer as you shook your head placing the flowers right behind you two in a vase, "I love you, but I'd also like to live as well" you said, reminding him that you were human as he paused,

"...Oh.."

As he scratched his face gently smiling sheepishly remembering you would die if not for the mask, the goggled and heavy earcovers too.

As he sniffed softly, his nose burning as he realized what was happening, "Oh god...they smell too harsh" he whispered, almost feeling bad that you worked hard and he couldn't keep flowers in his rooms..

You worked so hard to get these things and he couldn't keep them because his nose would burn and eventually bleed and he didn't even want that and you felt even more guilty for forgetting that details..

You gently reached towards the items, placing them back in the bag,

"Let me enchant them-", "No! It's fine..You did so much already, this is just my bad luck.." he huffed stopped you gently, as you shook your head, cupping his cheek and taking the flower,

"you want to keep these flowers and these things in your room, you get to keep them." you said smiling, cupping his cheek and rubbing your thumb across the spam of the area, "I don't care if I'm tired, you're my priority right now!" you said brightly

You gently held the flower behind his ear and gently worked to enchant it, though it was hard, "But-..." he paused, feeling his face warm, feverish as it always was during his period, he felt like crying,

"It'll be less trouble to just remove them.."

"but YOU want them HERE."

you said simply, enchanting it and putting it behind his ear, pinning it to his hair again as he smiled softly, while you continued to enchant every single item to have no smell..

He was glad somebody atleast loved him like this..What he wouldn't give to have it all to himself all the time?

Beelzebub

You huffed as you walked out of the house to the garden, to Beelzebub's nest. Beel's nest was dug out in the garden, underground LITERALLY.. At first his nests weren't in the house, in his and Belphie's room, but now it in his middle of his period, he shifted to gallery in garden.

You gently knocked on the little metal door, the brothers got installed for Beel, as asoft clicking chitter came out, as Beel pushed the panel, looking into your eyes and smiled, as you smiled back. His skin had gotten a bit transparent now, so sometimes you could see the bones and skeleton if light faced him directly, so he looked somehow hotter..

You gently crawled into the hole, and slid into it, landing on a little pillow as Beel stayed flying gently above the ground to help you settle as you smiled, showing him the bag of snacks you got specifically for him..

As he sat down beside you, crawling, his fly-esque wings fluttering to produce a softer, buzzing sound, not the annoying one, and it shined with coloured of orange-red and with extremely complex patterns..

His horns iridescent and glowing soft red every time peeks of light hit him, the gallery was built like a bunker, but light still came in from outside..

As you shifted, you felt a little lump under you, you shifted only to find-...Luke! You almost screamed if not for Beel shushing you, softly letting out clicking and buzzes as if to say don't wake up the boy! while you huffed, quickly handing a text to Lucifer as you made Beel wake Luke and put him outside.

Poor Luke was scrambling like a puppy, scared but you calmed and assured him he was fine, Beel did get reprimanded, but he ignored Lucifer like it didn not matter which shocked Lucifer as you apologized on Beel's behalf to Lucifer.

"Beel...You need to apologize" you said to him, giggling as he buzzed as if to No, I won't! as he looked away, huffing.

Beel continued to brush his wings gently with his large hands, so delicate and soft it was mesmerizing, but occasionally he got too rough on no occasion, so now you were adamant on watching over him and his grooming, even helping him out..

"Gentle..Your wings are super delicate at the side" you told, it was like Beel didn't know how his wings were at times.

You placed the large bag of snacks you got on the side, looks like the two month's worth of food he accumulated before his period was finished already, but THANK DIAVOLO his appetite decreased, did not mean he wasn't eating insane amounts...just less nowadays.

Beel softly buzzed, reading the packet of "grape chips" and opening it as you closed your nose, disgusted by the flavour choice.. as Beel extended them to you, feeding you, till you were almost bursting..That's just how it was to you, as you denied it weetly,

"they're for you, sugar" you said, smiling.

Beel let out a sad chitter and you knew you couldn't deny him, so you took a few in your hands and ate them..not too bad, just a weird taste, it was neutral, really.. as Beel happily clicked, watching you lovingly eat..it filled his hunger when he saw you eat, honestly.

After almost bursting open by food, Beel chose to sleep...first he wanted to sleep upside down with you, but after a little debating with the little critter, he finally agreed to sleep in the corner.

Beel's head on your collar bones near your throat, while you hummed to let out soft vibrations to comfort him while your fingers ran through his hair and his wings gently, while he softly let out clicks to tell you about his day as you hummed in acknowledgment.

As you kept humming your favourite song to comfort with the vibrations of your throat since he was leaning against your throat basically, as time passed in silence when Beel's chest filled with slight worry and sadness, wondering if his brothers and Luke were okay..

Did they need food? Did they eat? Did they do their homework? Was Lucifer okay? Was Mammon wasting money safely? Where Satan and Belphegor doing anarchy safely? Every question about his brothers...

As he let out soft worried humans nd chitters, was if debating between standing up and laying against you, so it was like heavy weight lifted off and on top of you every few seconds.

"Beel, sugar...Beel, baby! You okay?" you asked, snapping him out of it as he chittered panicked, as if he was late to some event or forget something important, but you knew him well enough by now, as you sighed, pulling him against you, though he resisted a bit, but laid against you,

"Beel...Your brothers and Luke are fine. Mammon is safely gambling, Belphie and Satan are also committing anarchy safely too!" you said quelling a few thoughts before he piped up, letting out a buzz, before you stopped him,

"Yes, they ate. I just had lunch with them before I came here. Don't worry... Lucifer is with them… and the others will take care of Lucifer for you..."

you smiled, stroking his cheek gently with your nails of your right hand which was hold his face and the pinky finger of you left hand strokes his nose-bridge to silence him,

"And...I'll care for you..." you asurred and smiled, hugging Beel close.

Belphegor

"FUCK!" You annoyed kicked a blanket, looking around to find your shirt to get to RAD this morning, only in your bottoms and pants, you stood there, searching for your teal shirt, grumbling..

You huffed, walking out, just topless, only to see Lucifer also there, searching for his jacket, before he made eye contact and covered his eyes, "Why are you shirtless? This is inappropriate, ou know?" he said, making you scoff

"As if I don't know that! I can't find it!", "I can't find my coat either" he said, grumbling as he continued to look around his room, while you huffed, running around to the brothers to see everyone had a shirt, jacket, blanket or plushie or something missing..

"Ay, hand my Ruri-chan blanket and plushies back, STUPID MAMMON!" Levi yelled, tackling a shirtless Mammon who punched back,

"I don' have it, ya stupi' Otaku!" Mammon yelled back, as you groaned, walking upstairs, to the the twin's room to see if Beel or Belphie had it. You found Beel, and lifted Belphie's blanket iple to nt find making Beel panic,

"BELPHIE!" he said panicked, as you assured him that Belphie's probably fine and let him go to go to the attic to find Belphie, hoping he'd know something about this.

You found Belphie, alright...In a blanket fort with 5 of Levi's ruri-chan blanket, one of Lucifer's custom silk and fur blanket, Asmo's expensive shirts, and everyone's RAD shirts and jackets..

As you grumbled, shaking Belphie, who was sleeping under a patch of sunlight since it was one of those days where sunlight came out, it was increased by Belphie using a spell, s he lazily laid there.

"Belphie, get up!" you grumbled, gently shaking him as he woke up, his shirt riding to show his chest with fluff on it, all spotted with dark blue and white like his hair, and his tail was also spotted now; dark blue and white as well.

Belphie grumbled as he woke up, but smiled, not caring how mad you looked, as he held your hand bringing it to his lips to kis your knuckles as you tried not to smile at this spoiled brat, as he laid it on his head while you scratched his head,

"You're using RAD shirts, you know? We have classes to attend, Belphie" you told him as he rolled his eyes,

"so what?"

he said, smirking...the audacity of this brat...

All while he showed his round eyes like a little calf, while you scoffed. He must've really wanted you to smack him, as he rubbed his neck and wrapped his arms your RAD shirt, which laid crumpled beside his bed..As he huffed,

"Come onn, pat my head and tummy, you're so warm" he huffed in a voice high-pitched than, spoiled brat, as you gently rubbed his tummy, as he smiled.

You felt better he wasn't annoyed at everything that moved now, like he was a few days ago, having no sleep meant Belphie was so irritated, he almost hit Beel too gently, but he stopped and apologized wholeheartedly to beel..Only beel, not even you.

Belphie gently yawned, and held your wrist, pulling you with barely any energy but so much strength, you almost swung over, as you laid on top of him, huffing..You were LATE TO RAD and this is what he wants to do?! And not only that, you were burning..god he ran too warm during his periods...

He gently kissed your cheek, trailing them down to your collar bones, gently licking and biting, but not anything sexual..just because, and you could smell a rather unique smell as you groaned, you knew the brother would bitch on end about Belphie's smell on you now.

"What? Don't like it?"

he asked, smiling and eyes bright as Belphie gently tapped in rhythm on the back of your thighs and continued to kiss your cheeks or nose and neck, it might have been his mating moment,

but you couldn't care less, not right now atleast..Lucifer was gonna bake you and feed you two to Beel if he learnt this is what you two were doing..

You gently got off of him, making him grumble, as you huffed, trying to search for you and the brother's shirts, promising him, he can take your spare ones. But you seemed to have offended him, as he simply turned over and rolled his eyes..

You grumbled under your breath, working around until you heard small sniffles and turned to him, glaring at you, but teary and crying into his pillows as you sighed.

You gently put your arms under his arms and gently pulled him up and into your arms,

"Now..Why are you crying?"

you asked softly, as Belphie hiccuped, which almost made you awe if not for his tears.

"Tell me honestly, do you even love me?!" he demanded, pouting, "Yes!" you sighed, "but you rejected me?!" he said, bewildered and upset as you sighed, gently kissing him as he hummed back,

"I'm sorry okay? I love you, but I'd rather not be today's dinner if Lucifer finds us doing this.."

you whispered as he came to realization and nodded, kissing you a few more times, rubbing himself on you for good measures, so his brother REALLY smell him on you.

© orelicia. I do not give permission to modify, translate, copy or repost ANY of my works. Reblogs are very much beloved!

[trans-axolotl]

Can I ask what things have helped you learn to live with psychosis?

Sure! It's definitely been a journey for me, so this is probably going to be a long post lol. I'm also going to add the disclaimer that this is about about me and what worked for me--I don't think this is going to be helpful for everyone and I don't think that everyone needs to think about their psychosis/altered states in the same way that I think about mine.

When I first starting experiencing it, psychosis was very disruptive and incredibly distressing to me. Now, at this point in my life, although my psychosis is often inconvenient or annoying, it generally is not distressing or majorly disrupting my life in the way it used to. a lot of credit for this is due to places like Project LETS, the Hearing Voices Network, etc, that let me see for the first time different ways of thinking about and coping with altered states. The medical model was more harmful than anything for me: it left me feeling like i had no agency over my own experiences, and that the only option the rest of my life would be to submit to varying degrees of surveillance and control with no hope of ever having moments of joy again.

For me, the first step for living with my psychosis was to approach my hallucinations/delusions with a lot of curiosity, and to build up my own picture of what my experience of psychosis was like. I started asking myself a lot of questions:

What do the hallucinations/delusions I experience look like? What do they feel like in my body? What emotions do they bring up for me? What's happening in my life when I'm having more frequent hallucinations/delusions? How do I feel when people challenge me on my hallucinations/delusions? Are there people/places/things that my hallucinations/delusions are happening more frequently around? What parts of my hallucinations/delusions bring me distress? Are there any parts of my hallucinations/delusions that I like? Are there things that help making dealing with hallucinations/delusions easier?

The way I wrote these questions out makes it sound like I had a lot of insight about the fact that I was hallucinating and delusion and makes it sound like I was really methodical about this, which is absolutely not the case. A lot of this was me just like, scribbling in journals and google docs about my theories about angels and my favorite angels and lists of poisons and on and on and on. A lot of the most helpful insights were random ones that I found when I was completely delusional, not in the periods when I had insight and was trying to map all this out.

But overall, what I was able to figure out was that in general, most of my psychosis was associated with one of two themes:

feeling unsafe and worried about dangerous threats

feeling controlled and unable to exercise my autonomy.

This made a lot of sense to me, given my own personal history with trauma and the traumatic things actively happening in my life at the time. When that clicked it felt like so much suddenly made sense, and I was able to get a lot more of an understanding of why certain things felt so distressing and urgent. Having a delusion that all my food is being poisoned creates a level of paranoia and stress that is pretty unreasonable and unhelpful as an adult who buys all their own food. Having that same level of paranoia and stress as a child who had to live in a dangerous situation without any control? A lot more helpful and reasonable for surviving. There were so many hallucinations/delusions (bugs/people in my walls/monsters and blood/etc) that I could clearly track all the ways that they did kind of function as a protective strategy for me in traumatic situations by raising my level of alarm and awareness, but now just caused me so much fucking stress.

At this point, it felt like I had a pretty okay grasp on some of the reasons I was experiencing psychosis, and then wanted to think about how I could actually then cope with it. First I identified all the things that weren't working and instead were just making me pissed off and making things worse.

Logical attempts to reality check me just made me feel more stressed, paranoid, and often made the hallucinations worse and the delusions bigger.

Before, this hadn't made any sense to me, but after identifying those underlying emotions around safety and autonomy it made so much fucking sense. People reality checking me, or even me trying to use logic against hallucinations with myself, didn't do anything to validate my emotions or meet that underlying need. Instead it just made me feel like I wasn't being listened to or believed, that I didn't have anyone I could trust, and that I had to be more on guard, which just perpetuated the whole cycle!

So for me, I realized that any coping skills would need to be centered around validating my emotions and meeting my underlying need for safety and/or autonomy. Practically, what this looked like for me was making a bunch of documents that are titled things like "Tips for if there's bugs inside of you" "Things you like to remember when you're talking to angels" etc etc etc. I think what really helped this work for me is that I didn't title them things like "how to cope with delusions about bugs" because I know that when I'm delusional, reading something like that is just going to piss me off and make me feel like I'm being called a liar. In those documents I write a lot of affirmations for my emotions and then write out a list of specific coping skills, organized from least chaotic/risky to most chaotic/risky. Nothing gets me more pissed off when I'm in a bad space then people trying to get me to use therapeutic coping skills when I don't want to, so I knew that I wanted to include a wide range of out-of-the-box coping skills. I'll share a few from my list of coping skills for increasing autonomy that I put in my "tips for if there's bugs inside of you document."

eat/shower/sleep/talk to someone in real life/pain meds

redecorate your room

shoplift

cut your hair

work on a project like embroidery or knitting or origami where you have to create something with your hands

choose a random place outside and go there

try some DBT/ACT/RODBT skills and see if they help you feel just 2% better, enough that you can do something else that you hate less like distractions.

distract (talk with friends, watch tv, read)

choose a random place outside and go there

make a lot of noise and kick things over in your room

break things

self harm (following my harm reduction plan)

drugs/alcohol

if i'm doing well enough, i try to first use coping skills that don't also have mental or physical risks for myself, but if i need to, I give myself permission to cope in whatever ways meet my needs in the moment and try to let go of some of the shame associated with riskier coping skills. I also have talked about psychosis openly with my trusted friends who know what kinds of support are helpful and what shit just makes me pissed off and frightened.

Overall, this has helped make psychosis a LOT less distressing for me, and over time also has made it happen slightly less. About half the time these days I have insight that what's happening are delusions or hallucinations which has helped make it easier to remember to cope. These days, psychosis mostly happens when my body is under a lot of stress (no sleep/seizure recovery/not eating/injured), and also sort of acts an alarm bell to me that somethings going on in my life that I might not have noticed, either in terms of my physical health or in terms of stressful situations or emotions that I'm not ready to think about or process.

That's one of the reasons that my psychosis is so meaningful to me, to be honest. I honestly feel really grateful that my psychosis gave me a way to externalize and experience my emotions before I was ready or able to experience them and feel them in my body. I think having hallucinations/delusions helped protect me at certain times in my life while still helping me acknowledge in a certain way that I was so fucking angry and grieving and hurt and in pain. I think that helped keep me alive long enough to get to a point where I could start to process and unpack trauma without it completely overwhelming me, or without convincing myself that I needed to be fine at any cost. And maybe it's strange to say I'm grateful for that, but I am.

so. that's most of what has worked for me. The way I wrote it out made it seem super simple and straightforward, but in reality it was absolutely nothing like that. It was years of a lot of chaos and feeling upset so much of the time and feeling absolutely clueless and my loved ones feeling concerned and writing things down and forgetting that I wrote things down and having the same problem over and over agai. just overall was so messy and not at all a linear process like I wrote about it here. I absolutely still have plenty of times where I just fuck off and forget I've ever thought about coping and just go around with hallucinations disrupting my entire day, and plenty of times it's still stressful.

And also again: this is about me and what's worked for me. My biggest advice for other people about coping with psychosis is a lot less about the specifics of a process or exactly what coping skills to use. Instead I think it's a lot more about approaching with curiosity first, just giving yourself the space to explore your psychosis on your own terms, to try things out, to build your own relationship with psychosis and how it fits into your life, and to affirm yourself as someone who does have agency about how you want to think, talk, feel, and cope with your own psychosis/altered states.

hope that was helpful and/or interesting anon, feel free to let me know if you have any other psychosis/altered states questions!

[creative-classpect]

Prince of Life

The Prince of Life One who destroys life and growth, often with life and growth itself. A plague.

“You are alone, child.There is only darkness for you, and only death for your people. These ancients are just the beginning. I will command a great and terrible army, and we will sail to a billion worlds. We will sail until every light has been extinguished. You are strong, child, but I am beyond strength. I am the end, and I have come for you, Finn.”

Prince- destroy their aspect and destroy with it. They are incredibly active and a bit unstable due to their destructive nature. 

Life- major themes of life force, opportunity, growth, and luxury. Minor themes of options and optimism.

Abilities

Finality

The Prince of Life destroys life. They are a force of rot and decay. The turning of the seasons, the guiding hand of entropy, the unshakeable fact that everything that lives must die. The

At lower levels of the game the Prince of Life is simply good at killing, using nothing short of fully lethal methods. This can be anywhere from maximum efficiency like John Wick to insane overkill like say, Lobo. However they chose to go about their work they are skilled at it. No matter the tool, no matter the time, no matter their stamina, they are always ready to kill. This may manifest as extreme paranoia or a severely edgy personality. 

As the Prince of Life develops their ability to kill has begun to blossom, extending well beyond the point of death and into the decay, the rot, the decomposition. The Prince of Life has tapped into a well of necrotic energy and all the things that come with it. They may begin to unleash necrosis with each strike of their weapon, blast deadly radiation across the battlefield, take control over decomposers like insects, and even decay inorganic material, causing metals and stone to wither and corrode away.

By medium levels the Prince is no longer wielding death, they have become it. The destructive output of the Prince would multiply, becoming increasingly deadly. The faintest touch would be enough to cause any object, living or dead, to rapidly begin to decay, age, wither, rot, and die. While this effect is potent with touch, it could be spread over a massive area, unleashing clouds of thick miasma to wear down the stamina and will to persist of all creatures within their range. When the Prince destroys something it is next to impossible to heal or recover, all remaining potential drained out of it entirely. The only chance is to prevent the inevitable before the Prince brought finality.

At higher levels the Prince of Life is more than a simple force of death and destruction, they are unto the grim reaper itself. While others may struggle tirelessly against the wheel of time, the Prince is assured, unstoppable. They are the end, plucking the death that lives within all things, and allowing it to bloom. There is no need for haste, no need for worry, when the Prince arrives it is simply the end before they even need to raise their weapon. Fate itself is exhausted and all potential realities and timelines begin to collapse on the certainty of their doom.

A fully realized Prince of Life may even be able to kill other godtiers, regardless of it is heroic or just.

Biophage

The Prince of Life is able to destroy with life, harnessing the infinite potential of nature in the same way one may view an armory. Biological warfare in the most literal sense, from the smallest spore to poison to giant briar patches to ensnare. Life needs life to live. Every predatory instinct, every biological advantage, every weapon and tool loving crafted by nature to kill and consume belongs to the Prince.

At lower levels this can manifest in any number of ways. The Prince may be skilled in cultivating various poisonous plants and mushrooms, carve weapons made from wood, harvest deadly bacteria, weapons and tools made from the bones of predators, etc. As life is endless, so are the Prince’s options, it really comes down to a matter of their personal interests and combat preferences.

As the Prince of Life begins to progress this would evolve, becoming spontaneous rather than a more long term, laborious effort. Their weapon of choice would become supercharged. Creating rapidly regenerating mushrooms to use as grenades, spontaneously generating thorny spears, granting themselves augmentations like Wolverine claws or sharp fangs, etc. The Prince of Life would also begin the process of becoming the peak of what is physically possible. While all Sburb players are expected to develop superhuman capabilities, the Prince of Life would rapidly develop and exceed expectations for physical abilities, such as strength, speed, and reflexes. Wuxia levels of physical prowess. Strong like Equius, fast like Dirk, tenacious like Kanaya, etc.

At medium levels the Prince of Life has evolved to not simply wield a weapon, but to become a weapon, hosting their internal armory within themselves rather than relying on external forces. They could become a host to a deadly parasite, reshape their bones to create razor sharp weapons, and unleash laten poison stored in auxiliary organs or lying within their blood. By this point the Prince of Life would be inhuman, taking on aggressive and violent biological traits that would separate themselves from other members of their species.

At higher levels the Prince of Life would sit atop the food chain, not only in their supremacy in killing everything below them, but in that they have begun to transform past a single entity. Whereas other players and game constructs may be fierce combatants, they are ultimately a single body. Life grows, it blooms, it multiplies. The Prince of Life is not restricted to being a single physical entity in the way others may be. The Prince has become a nearly unstoppable engine, able to heal and recover from any injury as they push forward. They can become a multiplicity, creating a vast mycelium network that interweaves through the session, a hivemind swarm of ravenous predators, or exist as a parasite entity so that in the event of their death they may simply kill and replace whoever they have infected. The Prince of Life lives at the expense of others. As long as there are things left to die, the Prince of Life will continue to live.

With a fully realized god tier, the Prince of Life may be something like Doomsday from DC comics, an unstoppable juggernaut that adapts and evolves to any danger in a single minded pursuit to destroy.

Skills

Adapt and overcome- When reduced to 0 hp, respawn within 24 hours. You have developed a minor mutation, granting resistance against what killed you last.

From the root- Whenever you destroy something, you can choose to go all the way, erasing any trace of its existence and snuffing out potential to propagate. Even ideas may die

- - -

This post was commissioned! If you want to commission me or support my content, you can find me @ https://ko-fi.com/kesscal !

[miachangedblogs]

TWST Become Human

Warning!!! This contains: Spoilers for Detroit Become Human + twisted wonderland. Later on would have NSFW, fem reader, noncon/dubcon etc!!

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts

Status: Human

As the only child of the two most astound doctors of Twisted Wonderland, it’s no wonder his parents are so protective over him. Raised to know more than five languages, always the top of his class and even managing to remember all 810 of the Queen of Hearts rule by the age of 10, he’s sure to to become something great. Imagine the surprise and horror of everyone when he got in an freak accident and was almost pronounced dead on the spot?? It’s a miracle he survived such a horrible fate. Ever since the incident, the Rosehearts family became very private, even more than before. They invested in multiple androids to guard Riddle as they made sure not even a scratch were to adorn his features. But.. it’s so strange…

But why can’t he remember what happened before the accident?

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Trey Clover

Status: Human

One of Riddle’s only friends in this world and the only friend his parents allow Riddle to have; The Clover family is known worldwide for their delectable pastries and equally sweet hospitality to anyone and anything, even androids. Everyone is welcome in the Clover bakery! Trey’s big brother like personality makes him so hard to hate! And so hard to notice his weirdly observant and weirdly… obsessive nature? There’s no way someone as humble and kind as him could be someone so malicious. But as the taste of poison is hidden by the sugary batter, his ‘flaws’ are quickly overlooked. If not, his unique magic can always help him out.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Cater Diamond

Status: Android

Bought as a playmate for Riddle, Cater immediately Fails as he’s deemed “obnoxious” and “rude” by Riddle. Trey seems to hold sympathy for him though, the two becoming quite close as a human and an android without emotions could get. Though, even as an android, Cater’s programming makes him seem so real. Perhaps the expressive and seemingly real emotions creeped Riddle off.

Some speculate he’s a deviant, but no need to worry! Cay-Kun is soooo harmless! Just ask his siste- wait what? Sisters? Since when did he have those?? You must be hearing things. Come on, hold still and give a big smile to the camera, yeah?

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ace Trappola

Status: Human

No one knows how or why Ace managed to snag a job at the Rosehearts estate. His rebellious nature and constant rule breaking always ends up with him collared by the Riddle, and yet he’s never fired. His favorite pastime by far would have to be screwing up Deuce’s work, sabotaging his coworkers hard work to put himself above him. Deuce is just too gullible, there’s no way people would actually choose him over the clear winner of the Ace Trappola! His eyes filled with clear distain and disgust whenever Cater calls the two “besties”, even making a nickname for the two, “adeuce”. Gross. Don’t fucking group him with that idiot. He’s clearly way better. Don’t you think?

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Deuce Spade

Status: Human

Wanting to be a police officer when he grows up, Deuce eagerly jumped at the opportunity to work within the walls of the Rosehearts Manor. After all, it would look great on his resume. He always seemed to have a clear distain for androids. Perhaps it’s his mind already conditioning him to be prepared to fight against deviants when he ultimately joins the forces. Even with this clear bias, he remains respectful towards any androids that reside amongst the manor. Although not the sharpest tool in the shed, he tries his very best!

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar

Status: Beastmen

Being the second born prince of the Afterglow Savannah, Leona was constantly watched by eyes from all around the world, yet never truly basking in the spotlight. Even within the shadows his every move was constantly criticized. He would be forgotten if not for the constant ‘tantrums’ he used to throw. Refusing to go to his lessons, family dinners, important meetings and so on. One day, it all stopped. No one knows how or why until Leona emerged after months with a scar adorning his left eye. Rather than sympathy, his people cheered at the seemingly calm Prince. How cruel. He should be feeling enraged, betrayed at his own people’s lack of empathy, but right now he’s just so tired. He doesn’t know why but he just doesn’t have the energy to feel anymore.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ruggie Bucchi

Status: Android

A lowly hyena android who’s desperation led to him snatching the scorned Prince’s wallet. Of course he was caught immediately, his fate to be destroyed publicly for his audacious actions. Leona however, had different plans for him. To put it simply, he was amused. Perhaps it was his audacity that let the Prince show mercy, or maybe it was the droplets of blue smudged all over Ruggie hands. Either way, Ruggie managed to secure the role as Leona’s informant amongst the villagers of the Afterglow Savannah as well as his personal servant. At least it pays well I suppose.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jack howl

Status: Beastmen

He cannot stand injustice towards anything, especially the ones androids face in the hands of humans. The deviants at first creeped him out but he learned to respect them to a degree. He wouldn’t necessarily go out of his way to help them escape to Canada, nor would he befriend them, after all they were deviants. Who knows if they’re the violent type? He will however protect them if he saw some kids throwing rocks at it or adults being unreasonably physical with them.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

Status: Human

The heir of his mother’s multi million restaurant business housing many android servers, Azul Ashengrotto isn’t a stranger nor is opposed to androids. His two “bodyguards” (and regrettably best friends) are androids after all. Besides, androids are very profitable! He also runs a benevolent business where he can grant any of your wildest dreams and wishes. Want to be thinner? Or perhaps after the heart of a young woman? Indeed he’ll be able to help! Just sign your name riighhhht here. Oh, and make sure you do abide by the contract. People who don’t have a tendency to… disappear. We certainly wouldn’t want that, would we?

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

The leech twins

Status: Android

After the grief of none of their eggs surviving, Mr. And Mrs. Leech desperately contacted every android company for a custom Androids that would resemble what would be their children. After years of prototypes and programming, one unnamed company managed to come up with two twins for the new parents.

Unfortunately, the robotic nature of their ‘children’ were not enough for the two, leading to some tweaking in their code.

The Leech family announced their twins as mermen to the public, hiding the true nature of their children. The only ones who know are the Ashengrotto family who swore to secrecy to keep their mouth shut about the whole situation. It is common knowledge in the sea that those who oppose the Leech family meet a gruesome fate. It’s not like they have a choice really.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Scarabia

Kalim Al-Asim

Status: Human

As the eldest son of the Asim family, the heir of all the wealth, Kalim has been spoiled rotten since birth. It’s no wonder his perception of money and people are distorted. The public views him as spoiled, entitled, overly bubbly and dumb. He may be naive, yes, but he’s not dumb.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jamil Viper

Status: Human

A servant of Kalim Al-Asim from birth to his destined death. Kalim’s “best friend”, “playmate”, “right hand man”, “advisor”. He’s heard it all. He could only grit his teeth and smile politely. As always, Jamil was tasked to taste test Kalim’s food, only to find himself at death door. He watched in anguish and rage at the amount of people swarming the young heir instead of him. The one about to die.

After the hospitalization, Jamil has become more quiet. More alert. At first his parents grew concerned, though Kalim’s father kept trying to reassure that nothings wrong. Overtime Jamil learned to put on a mask for his parents to ease their concern. It’s nothing new to him anyways.

Sometimes he wishes it was Kalim instead…

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Pomfiore

Rook Hunt

Status: Human

Rook Hunt is most popular for being Vil’s unofficial manager and best friend. One of the most loyal people in Vil’s life allowed Rook to be able to house every single secret of Vil. Paparazzi have tried numerous times to get him to fess up, even offering him millions. Rook would always just smile with his fox-like grin and brushed them off with a swift change of topic. It is also to be known that Rook is known to have a “morbid” curiosity regarding anything that isn’t human. His curiosity doesn’t have any bad intentions, no underlining malice whatsoever. He just sees beauty in everything. It’s more fascination than anything. This does cause him to come off as creepy and overly eccentric, his mere presence causing unease to those around him.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Epel felmier

Status: Human

A country boy who came to the big city for education but more so excitement. His small town, Harveston was known to be one of the only places that didn’t house androids. It wasn’t a matter of the people despising androids, Harveston was just a traditional town. A small town that barely even used modern day farming equipment. They simply just wanted to keep tradition. You could imagine his surprise when he saw just how realistic and smart androids were. He doesn’t have an opinion on them, not yet. All he cares about is working hard for the blast-cycle he’s so desperate to buy.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ignihyde

Idia shroud

Status: half human, half android: Cyborg

An unnamed incident had caused the death of Ortho Shroud and severe injuries to Idia Shroud. Idia’s parents could only save the eldest via trading off his damaged human parts with android scraps, successfully producing the first recorded cyborg Twisted Wonderland has ever known. He’s still human, just some of his limbs and bone structure being held up by metal. As soon as he recovered he began working day and night to make a replica of his deceased brother. His grief made him spiral into a deep denial as even though he was the one to build Ortho, he fully believed he was the same old Ortho from back then. He began insisting that everyone treat Ortho as human, snapping at anyone who dares to call his little brother an “android Assistant”. Can’t you all see he’s alive?? How audacious.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ortho Shroud

Status: Android

A bright young boy who cares deeply for his brother. Much is unknown.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Diasomnia

Lilia Vanrouge

Status: Fae

An Ex general and now the right hand man to the prince of Briar Valley, Malleus Draconia. Not much is known about this Fae, not much is known about anyone from Briar Valley in general. People do say he’s incredibly friendly, much more approachable than the Prince. Even with his bubbly exterior, people tend to be on edge in his presence. Perhaps it’s the sharp fangs, the hint of mischief in his eye, or maybe it’s the knowledge of his past as the most feared general. Nowadays multiple rumours circulate him such as him being a rockstar, a vampire, even an android. How amusing. Perhaps all are true, perhaps none. Who knows, really?

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Sebek Zigvolt

Status: Android

Loud and boisterous, an overly protective and aggressive android brought in by Lilia to be Malleus’s body guard. He has a clear disdain towards deviants and humans, constantly belittling both. I’m his mind, the hierarchy seems to be Fae first, then android, then everyone else. You can be sure that he will never become a deviant with his strict nature. Although Sebek does seem to be alarmed at the threat of becoming a deviant. He can’t help but feel scared… Scared? No, that’s not right. Androids can’t feel... Can they?

*. ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warning!!! This contains: perv Idia, noncon thoughts, masturbation, gross Idia, fem reader.

You just can’t believe your luck.

You’ve rubbed your eyes again to make sure it was functioning correctly, re reading the huge words “accepted” printed dark blue on the letter.

“Welcome to STYX mechanic number 0962! How’s your day been?” An android radiating with enthusiasm greeted you immediately, hovering towards you. A little peeved at your label you couldn’t help but frown just a bit. Behind him stood a tall, pale man; you could only assume it was Idia Shroud, the heir of STYX. You tried to push down your panic and unease, every ounce of confidence immediately evaporating. Ortho ushered you inside the huge building, talking endlessly about his brother, STYX, your role in STYX and just how happy he is to meet you.

Ortho is a clear deviant. That much is very clear when you first met him. Though nice and friendly, you ought to keep your guard up. You make a mental note; be cautious around Ortho.

“-re you listing Ms. 0962?” Ortho stops in his tracks as he tilts your head towards you.

“Hm? Oh yeah, sorry Ortho.” He giggled as he continued to hover around.

“You’re so silly Ms. 0962. I can see you and my brother becoming great friends!” You could only awkwardly smile and nod as you continued your walk with him, not noticing the constant glances from Idia directed right at you.

It’s been a month since your employment in STYX. You’ve tried making attempts to socialise with coworkers but they always give you such short answers, talking to you only when it’s absolutely necessary. It didn’t help that your boss was such a pain. Always giving you short responses, constantly glaring at you as if your very existence threatened him in some way. At least the pays good and your boss’s android assistant keeps you good company? You don’t even know anymore.

You were working on some papers when the door to your office opened.

It was your boss.

Mentally groaning, you got up to bow and gave him a nervous smile.

“Hello Mr. Shroud. What can I do for you?” Idia only glared at you as he swiftly turned around, beckoning you to follow him. Hastily you put down your belongings to catch up, jogging towards him.

“You’ll work on an ��important client”. Try not to mess up.” Your boss went on about what it is and what is expected but all you could focus on was the speck of blue staining his jaw. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your handkerchief with a smile.

“You got some thirium on you Mr. Shroud. Here, lemme wipe it o-” just as you were about to wipe it off with your handkerchief, Idia snatched the cloth out of your hand.

“I’ll do it myself later.” Sneering, he puts it in his back pocket and continues to walk you to your office. You shrink at the cold attitude, awkwardly playing with the hem of your shirt.

Idia suddenly stopped in his tracks as he got his key card out to open a room filled with thirium bags and thousands of tools you never even knew nor heard of before. Walking inside you notice a huge box of what you assume to be the container of the android. Your boss rudely shoves a crumpled paper in your hands.

“The code to the box.” He explains as he swiftly heads out of the room, not even sparing you a second glance.

“G-goodbye Mr. Shroud!” You bow one last time as the door closes in front of you without a response. Sighing at the lack of response, you stare at the crumpled up paper and back at the box containing your new project.

Idia panted heavily as his hands pumped his dick desperately, chasing after his release. The other hand pressed the handkerchief into his nose.

God you were cute.

To be completely honest, hiring you was an honest mistake, a product of his carelessness and lack of sleep finally catching up to him. Your resume wasn’t anything noteworthy, if anything, you were severely under qualified for this job. Alas idia was too tired to notice his mistake when he accidentally pressed hire on his computer. He wanted nothing more than to smash his keyboard just thinking about the scolding he’d get from his parents.

Truly a blessing in disguise.

With a shaky moan Idia came all over his desk, gasping for air as he stayed slumped on his seat. After a few minutes Idia sat upright, groaning as he shoved the handkerchief into his pocket for future use. Grabbing handfuls of tissue he lazily cleaned himself up, mind hazy still thinking of you.

He wonders if you’d like pomegranates.

*. ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

I love the idea of android twst and wanted to put my two cents on it! Shout out to the lovely @cvlutos for the amazing concept and fleshing out go check them out lovelies! Currently unfinished so sorry! To be honest I probably won’t make new parts for this but we’ll see. If you have any thoughts, requests or questions please send them my way!!

That’s all for today!! Tune in for more sweethearts!

Bitter dreams<33

[o0opumpkino0o]

Here’s a Demon twins AU that I will never write. I feel like the best crossover fics are written by people who enjoy and have a good grasp on the shows/comics/whatever they are combining and my DC knowledge is severely lacking. So this will mostly be focused on Danny. Feel free to take inspiration and make whatever changes you want, if you feel like taking a swing at it. Originally, this was supposed to be a comedic prompt that took advantage of Danny having ghost powers. But that quickly changed. 

-I’m not the biggest fan of Ghost King!Danny so I’m not writing this with that in mind but if you like it then feel free to add it in. 

-I feel like this AU would work better with Danny and Damian as rivals or having a love/hate relationship but you do whatever you like best.  

-In this AU they are not identical twins. 

-While on a mission, Danyal and Damian were separated at age 5. Damian stayed with the league while Danyal was found by the Fenton’s. 

-Danyal was seriously injured during the mission and the Fenton’s thought it would be irresponsible to leave him on his own after patching him up. And any parents that allowed their child to get so grievously injured obviously shouldn’t be incharge of raising a kid. So they decide to adopt him. 

-The league assumes that Danyal was killed on the mission. Even though a body was never found, there weren’t reports of a child matching Danyal’s description in the surrounding cities or even states and a five year old can only go so far on his own, even one with League training. 

-Did Danyal want to leave the league? Did he want to stay and protect Damian/prove himself worthy of the title or heir? You decide! Either way he ends up living with the Fenton’s, has his accident at 14, and the Danny Phantom series continues as normal.

-Over the years of living with the Fenton’s Danny starts to lose touch with his league training. Some of the knowledge sticks with him, like what specific poisons can do, etc. But most of the physical training fades away. He was five when he was taken from the League, by the time he became half-ghost, he’d spent most of his life out of it. 

-He also starts to feel invincible after avoiding the League’s radar for so long. As long as he doesn’t bring too much attention to himself, there’s no way they could find him. They probably think he’s dead anyway. And even if someone from the League showed up in Amity Park, for whatever reason, what are the chances they’d even recognize him?? As long as he lays relatively low his past will never catch up with him. 

-At age 10/12/whatever age Damian was sent to live with Bruce, the “scandal” was broadcasted across national television. While Danny knew he and Damian were the sons of the Bat, he had no idea who Batman was. It did not take long for Danny to put 2 and 2 together. 

-Unfortunately for Danny, the broadcast was airing while he was with Sam and Tucker. Any training he had to hide his emotions eroded in the 5 to 7 years he was living in Amity. His friends, understandably, wanted to know why he suddenly started freaking out and weren’t going to take nothing for an answer. 

-While he could have lied, he wanted to trust his friends and told them everything. For the most part. He did leave out what the cult of assassins he was born into was called along with most of the names of the people in the League. And the parts where he was responsible, whether directly or indirectly, for the deaths of dozens of people. But, pretty much anything else was told.  

-Miraculously, they believed him and still wanted to be friends. Danny was sure Sam would have had an issue with him being raised to kill people for the first few years of his life. But she actually thought it was pretty cool! Mostly because he didn’t actually kill anyone himself, as far as she knew. Was he responsible for slipping some poison into a target's drink? Yes, but that couldn’t be proven. Did he and his brother lower the guard of targets with their ‘lost-children-trying-to-find-their-mommy’ routine so that another member could come in for the kill? Also yes, but he wasn’t directly responsible so it didn’t count. 

-Yes, Danny did mention that his father was Batman and that the newest addition to Bruce Wayne’s family was his twin brother. So that does mean that Sam and Tucker also know the identities of a good portion of the Bat’s and Bird’s. But Danny was young at the time, thought nothing could hurt him, and didn’t quite understand the severity of having a secret identity. Once he had his accident and became personally aware of the risks and consequences of that, the trio had a meeting and got rid of anything that might have had that secret in it. Old diaries, computer journals, text messages. Everything was burned or wiped. They agreed they would never mention that secret directly, especially once Vlad entered the picture. 

-Everything was as good as it could be until about two years after the accident. Casper High won a competition for the Juniors to tour Wayne Enterprises. The Fenton’s refused to let Danny skip on the opportunity. When else would they get the chance to measure Gotham’s ambient ectoplasm or pitch their inventions to Bruce Wayne himself? Danny tried to explain that Bruce probably wouldn’t even be present for the tour and that the TSA would confiscate any Fenton Tech his parents would try to make him bring. But they didn’t listen. 

-As nervous as he was, Danny insisted that everything would be fine. Bruce/Batman was a busy man, he probably had a case he was working on that was way more important than some stupid tour. Tim was CEO and was too important to be a part of a tour. It wouldn't make sense for anyone else in the flock to be there. Gotham itself was so big that the likelihood of him running into anyone was slim and, even if he did, he and Damian weren’t identical twins, any resemblance could be passed off as coincidence. And if he noticed any stares or double takes, well, it wasn’t like it was hard for him to get lost in a crowd.  

-Sam and Tucker weren’t confident in his defense and made sure he had enough makeup on to subtly hide his face shape and any notable facial features at a glance. 

-Danny was right about the TSA forbidding most of the Fenton’s tech on the plane, the only things they allowed were the fenton phones, the emf reader to monitor Gotham’s ambient ectoplasm levels, and some gas masks his parents made in case their trip was interrupted by one of Batman's rogue. Danny was able to sneak some things on board by phasing them past TSA beforehand, but the only things the trio brought with them was the thermos and a few disguised blasters, just in case. 

-The trip actually went pretty well, the hotel wasn’t in the wealthy part of the city, nor was it in Crime Alley. It was in a safe enough area where the students probably wouldn’t be at risk of being shot if they were to wander off. But far enough away that the elites wouldn’t get annoyed at some midwest tourists. 

-Danny was also right about Bruce and the others being too busy to run into him. It turns out most of the bats probably weren’t even in Gotham. According to the guide, Mr. Wayne and co were on a “family vacation” and weren’t expected to be back for another week, days after the student’s would return to Amity. 

-Of course it would be after Danny lowered his guard that things took a turn for the worse. They were just about to board their flight back. Everyone was lined up to go! Only for the terminal to start filling with fear gas as Scarecrow and, if you were to ask Danny, an excessive amount of goons entered the building. Danny had an idea what the Bat’s were focused on during their “vacation”

-Thankfully, the trio was prepared. So, while their classmates were unfortunately swept up in the chaos; Danny, Sam and Tucker were able to slip on their gas masks and find a place to come up with a plan. Even though Danny didn’t need to breathe, even in his human form. He still slipped on his mask to keep up appearances.

-It didn’t take long for the Bats to show up. Specifically Batman, Robin and Nightwing. Batman went after Crane while Nightwing and Robin took care of the henchmen. 

-Batman seemed to be pretty evenly matched with Crane but the goons managed to separate Robin and Nightwing. Both were starting to get overwhelmed with the number of goons they were fighting. 

-Danny couldn't continue to sit back and do nothing. He was a hero, he could do something to even things out. 

-Sam tried to convince him to leave it alone, that there were other heroes who could help but she knew it was hopeless. Tucker put a hand on Danny’s shoulder and told him to be careful before the two went off to find a better place to hide. They made sure they kept their Fenton Phones on in case Danny needed their help. 

-Danny found a place to transform, went invisible, and joined the fight.

-Danny tried to stay in between Nightwing and Robin, picking off goons in their blind spots. If the other two noticed anything off with the number of goons decreasing faster than they were fighting, it didn't show in their body language.

-Just as Danny thought he would be able to get out of this fight undetected, one of the henchmen was able to rip off Damian's gasmask. Nightwing hadn't noticed yet, in the middle of his own huddle of goons. Batman was still focused on Crane. Danny was the only one who could help.

-Time slowed. It was subtle but he could see his brother's shoulders rise and fall as his breathing was starting to speed up. The fear toxin was setting in. Danny did not spend the first 5 years of his life training to protect Damian just to fail now. 

-In an instant, he flew over to his brother. Knocking out the goons surrounding him, Danny loses his touch on his invisibility as he slipped the gas mask on to Damian’s face. He mentally pleads to every Ancient he knows that his brother won't recognize him. 

-Danny realizes that the domino masks the Bats and Birds wear doesn't give away much emotion wise. But he doesn't think Damian's eyes widen or anything along those lines. Maybe one thing will go Danny's way. After all, he’s in ghost form right now. What are the odds, after all this time, his brother would recognize him?

-”Akhi?” It came out more like a breath than a whisper. If Danny’s hearing wasn't so sensitive he wouldn't have heard it. 

-Well, fuck. Maybe if he bails out now everyone will chalk it up to a fear toxin hallucination. 

-He allowed himself to fade from view but stayed close in case any goons tried to take advantage of his brother's disoriented state. 

-Nightwing was finally able to break out of the goon huddle and come to Robin’s defense just in time for Batman to take down Crane.

-Danny took that as his cue to leave and found Sam and Tucker before anything worse could happen. 

-Once they were able to regroup, Danny quickly filled them in on what happened before Mr. Lancer ushered them away to be checked over by some medics while their plane was rescheduled. 

-It isn't until the trio are back at the hotel that Danny realizes he left his gas mask with Damian. 

-Bad news, Danny’s ghost form was caught on the airport’s security cameras before Tucker had the chance to try and delete it. Good news, the cameras being out of date added with Phantom’s ectoplasm means that the footage was too distorted to make out any discernible features. Bad news, the students of Casper High know full well it was Phantom, the ghost boy. And have no problem saying it to every reporter who comes across them. Good news, most people dismiss the ghost explanation as nonsense and assume its a meta trying to encroach on Batman’s territory. 

-Casper High ends up needing to stay in Gotham for a week longer than intended. Bruce Wayne returns from his ‘vacation’ a few days after the attack and offers to pay for the extra nights and any medical bills that students might have gotten as a result of the attack. 

-During that week, Danny can’t bring himself to sleep. He keeps on expecting his brother or one of the others to burst through the hotel window and whisk him away to an interrogation. Thoughts he’s managed to keep pushed down for years are suddenly rising back to the surface. This whole time Danny assumed that, since Damian’s been living with Father for years, Damian was out of the League. Everyone knows about Batman’s no killing rule, there is no way that Batman would let Damian continue his training. But what if that was all a ruse? What if Batman was working for the League but wanted to keep his own hands clean? What if they were going to send Danny back? What if they thought Danny was a spy or wanted revenge? What if they find out he’s half ghost and believe his parents research that all ghosts are evil?

-Sam and Tucker try to calm him down. It was just his ghost form that Damian saw, whose first thought when seeing your brother’s ghost was to assume he’s still alive and living a double life? Plus, for all Danny knew, his brother could have been reacting to the fear toxin instead of Danny himself. Danny appreciated their efforts but he was still on edge. 

-Instead, nothing happens. He can’t find anyone or anything out of the ordinary during his invisible perimeter checks. There’s no attempt to communicate with him. According to Tucker, no one has tried to gain access to Casper High’s student files. Danny’s parents haven’t mentioned that Bruce Wayne has shown any interest in their inventions during any of their phone calls. Nothing.

-He doesn’t know if he should be relieved or disappointed. Batman was supposed to be the world's greatest detective. How could he not look into all of the loose ends Danny left behind, no matter how unintentional it was? Sure, most people brushed off the ghost thing. But an entire class, from the most haunted city in America, saying their hometown hero came in to save the day is something to look into. Even if it’s just to find proof to write them off. He left behind a Fenton branded gas mask for Ancients sake! A new thought started to crop up. What if they didn’t care? What if Damian already explained everything? Maybe the bats knew about Damian’s long lost/dead brother and thought his sudden reappearance, alive or dead, wasn’t worth looking into? What if they- what if Damian- wanted nothing to do with him? Can Danny even be upset? It‘s not like he ever tried to get in contact. Maybe Damian thinks Danny wants nothing to do with him. Does Danny want his brother back in his life? Every time he thought about it, it was either too good to be true or his fantasies ended with Damian stabbing him through the chest. 

-Either way, they were able to board the plane with no issue. The plane landed and his parents picked him up with nothing of interest happening. His parents dropped him off at the house, they wanted to do a quick patrol since the ghost attacks have been rising the last few weeks. There were no surprise attacks in the living room or the kitchen. No signs of anyone in the Lab. (Or any signs of a ghost getting caught while he was gone, that was a relief.) Jazz’s room looked like it did the day she left for college. The house was completely clean. 

-Now there are a few different ways I think this could go. One, Damian is waiting for Danny in his bedroom, sees Danny phase into the room and immediately has a sword to his throat. Maybe Damian was able to get away from the Manor without having to give away too much information and takes it upon himself to look into his brother’s reappearance. Maybe Damian was forced to tell his family about his late brother. Does Damian miss Danyal? Does he feel betrayed that Danyal left? Maybe Damian told his family once they earned his trust when he first moved into the manor? It’s hard to say how this goes from here or how the DC characters react since I don’t know enough about them but if you want to add on to this, please do!

[capitanoidyll]

Infinity

Yandere ! Gojo Satoru x Female ! Reader

Part 4 | my life

Warnings | death , gojo starts to get a bit delusional , yandere gojo , gojo being salty about y/n's new life , mentions of su!c!de by poison , murder , grammatical errors , etc.

Notes | this fic will be using she/her pronouns for y/n. Also this is a reincarnation fic, so Gojo's name will not be "Satoru" in this part. And please let me know if you want to be in a taglist for this series !! ^-^

Summary | And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.

Infinity Masterlist

year 1120 AD

GOJO SHIRO, at the somewhat middle age of 30, couldn't believe his eyes. His six eyes, dulled a bit due to age, seemed to ignite with a sort of happiness as he looked down at a newborn that his dear daughter wanted him to meet. (As he got older, he was practically forced to marry someone from the clan elders despite him being the lord of the land and head of the clan now. He honestly didn't want to as he saw it as him betraying y/n, but alas, life must go on for the Gojo clan.)

"Her name is Y/n Gojo, isn't she cute?"

Life sure was cruel. Here he was still not dead from his second life and here y/n was already in her third, her second reincarnation. A sort of dark pit settled within him. A seed of pure rage entangled him and took root.

"She is cute," he muttered, but she wasn't supposed to start her second life without me. And she's a Gojo no less, so even if I reincarnated we wouldn't be able to be married together, we would be related to each other for God's sake!

He had to right the wrong.

So, he made a quick decision. A just decision.

"However, she's been cursed."

His daughter paled, "w- what?! Cursed?! But father-"

He held up his hand as y/n laid gently in his arms, "you know the rules as much as I do. That husband must of done something to you during childbirth, or when she was being conceived. You know better than anyone else that the Gojo clan has enemies lurking in the shadows."

"Minako would never hurt her! He loves our little girl!"

"And how can you be sure? You nor anyone else has the six eyes, you nor anyone else can see what I see, and this child is cursed. She'll bring the Gojo clan to ruin if she exists a second longer."

"But father-"

"Enough! If you do not have the will to end this cursed child's life, then I will take it upon myself."

"You can't father! You can't! There must be another way! We can save her!"

His daughter was in hysterics. All she wanted was for her father to finally meet her baby little girl. If she knew this was going to happen, then she would of run away with y/n and Minako in tow.

Urumei was summoned a moment later and had grabbed a tight hold of Gojo's daughter.

"Take her outside while I handle this."

"Of course, my lord."

His daughter could only kick and scream in Urumei's grip. Her wails being heard outside the door and down the hall as Gojo was left with y/n. His six eyes now focused onto the small baby in his arms.

"You're quite cruel for doing this to me, but don't worry y/n, my precious little y/n. I know you didn't have control over where you were born and who you were born too. But you must understand .. if I die and am reincarnated and you're not there, then how will I live? You're my world. And I'm your moon. You said so yourself. We made a deal. Its only fair that we be reincarnated at the same time so that we're together."

He activated hollow purple. And, for a moment, he was glad that she was still asleep. He doesn't think he would be able to go through with it if she were awake, and just as he was about to go through with it. She had opened her eyes. They were a brilliant, bright (color) and his breath faltered. Looking up at him, she smiled and giggled and held out her chubby, small hands up to him. Her fingers making grabbing motions.

He deactivated hollow purple and decided to just come up with the excuse to raise her himself and to "make sure she wasn't cursed anymore and didn't hurt anyone within the clan."

His daughter, when she was brought back in, could only weep and smile at the good news, grateful to her father for not killing her baby. Granted, since y/n was still "cursed" as she and everyone else within the clan were told to believe, then it meant she wouldn't be able to take care of her daughter and instead her father would look after her instead. But she was still happy nonetheless.

And that was how life went for the next fourteen years.

"Father, father, father!"

Now at the age of 44, Shiro could be found carrying y/n around on his back as she would point at the different food stalls, wanting to try all the different kinds of sweets they had.

Now, Shiro was, in fact, her grandfather of course, but he decided to blur the lines a bit on that since he was still young and because his daughter and her husband had passed away tragically in a cursed spirit attack when y/n was only two years old. Many found it odd how he didn't seem phased over their deaths but reckoned that he just needed to focus on caring for his newly made daughter instead.

And y/n simply didn't need to know. Besides, as he said, he was still relatively young so what was the harm in posing as her father figure instead? (Not to mention that he erased anything and everything related to his previous daughter and wife. Hell, he couldn't even remember their names!)

"You want to try that next?"

"Yes, please!"

Much to Shiro's delight, despite living under his doting care she still turned out the same as in her first two lives. Cute, shy, and super adorable. However, she was a bit chubby but that was only because he absolutely refused to see her in a sickly state as she was seen previously in her other lives. And it was nice seeing her so happy. He doesn't remember ever being so happy before with her first two families. Granted, in her second life her mother there was nice but y/n didn't have a father and her mother was always working. Not to mention those bullies were- he seethed a little, that's right. To y/n, this was the only life she lived, but to Gojo he was still in the life where those damn brats killed her.

He tried to clear his mind and focus on y/n instead.

The day went on and soon night fell which meant their usual routine. Y/n would wash up and immediately get dressed in her night clothes and come into his room. He would already be in bed and would pat the spot next to him as she would happily clamber in next to him.

But just before she would fall asleep, he would tap her on the nose.

"Forgetting something?"

She giggled a little as she turned towards him and lifted her head forward. Her lips gently pressing against his cheek as she gave him a tiny goodnight kiss.

"Goodnight, father! I love you!"

He kissed her forehead in return, and hugged her close, "goodnight my sweet angel."

And as she would fall into a deep sleep, he would find himself in discomfort. This was not the life he wanted with her. Not at all.

So he would find himself reaching into the cupboard next to his nightstand. His eyes glinting into the dark when he would find a dark vile. In it was a heavy poison. He knew what he had to do.

Uncorking the lid, he parted y/n's lips and let the liquid slip down her throat.

Now, this wasn't a rash decision, he's actually been thinking of this for quite some time. He couldn't wait any longer to die and to get reincarnated with y/n. He didn't want to be her father figure or even a father to her. He wanted to be her husband. But life was cruel.

It wasn't fair.

not fair

not fair

not fair

not fair

Thats what he always told himself, and he finally went through with it, and making sure that her heart stopped and she was truly dead. He, too, took a swig from the bottle and then promptly tossed the vile out the open window for someone to find while on patrol.

It wasn't fair. He deserved to have y/n as a wife, not a daughter, or as a granddaughter. It only made sense to finally start anew. Besides, she lived a decent life. A decent childhood. He could have killed her as a baby. Oh, he really could have. But he didn't. He let her live.

So, by doing that, he deserves to take that life away too and start again.

He knew they would be reincarnated together this time. Because they didn't end up together. This wasn't their happy ending.

Infinity taglist | @whore-for-hawks @esthelily @huicitawrites @flaming-vulpix

[darkbluekies]

Family life with the yandere OC's

A/N: a few of you have asked about having kids with the yanderes or already having kids when meeting them etc, so I figured I'll give my view on how they'd handle a family with you :)

Warnings: drugging, neglect, isolation, guns, threatening of beating up fifth graders,

Silas:

Things will change once you have kids. Oh, they’ll really change. For the better? Of course not. He’ll grow even more protective and possessive over you and your children. I can see him with three daughters of different ages. He’ll move from his two story house to a bigger one out in the countryside so you and your child can grow up far away from the city’s polluting atmosphere. He wants to be able to ‘taint’ his children himself, no one else. After all … if your kids start to talk about your home life at school … maybe someone will try to take them and you away from him.

As a father, Silas will be the ultimate deal. He'll be loving, playful and protective. He will give your daughters whatever they desire. All he wants is to see them happy. They will go to school under fake names to make sure that none of his enemies can find them. You better get ready for hell if someone (even from school) dares to hurt your daughters because Silas will do everything in his power to get rid of the ones that have the nerve.

"Daddy's home! Hi, my beautiful girls, i've missed you so, so much! Have you been good girls while daddy's been gone? Wonderful. Where's Y/N? Upstairs? Thank you. I have to go hug them too."

Dr Kry:

Once you find out that you'll have twin girls, Dr Kry is quick to turn off the poisoned air purifier. He can't risk that anything happens to you or your kids. He'll move you from the hospital to his house in the woods. He wants his kids to grow up near nature, to care about the earth and its inhabitants. It's a perfect place too, there's no one around.

As a father, Dr Kry is strict and a bit harsh. He wants both his daughters to succeed and not be compared to one another. He will read for the family in front of your fireplace in the evenings and teach your kids things about the world. As much as he'd like to homeschool your twins, he can't do everything at the same time. He'll let them go to a private school that shares his beliefs and tutor them a bit on the side. He will support your kids in any way they need to affirm that they'll succeed in life.

He won't keep them sick, like he does with you … unless they figure out what he's done to you. He's done his best to indoctrinate your twins, but if his smart genes have passed on to them … then he'll have no other choice.

"Sweetpea, don't look at me like that. I have to do that! They know about what happened at the hospital. They know everything. They're smarter than I thought. Of course I love them! That's why I'm doing this! They're safe this way. If I can't create a world for them, then they'll have to stay home. They have each other, Y/N, they're okay. I will do anything to protect my family."

King Edmund:

He’ll be joyful. Maybe not too much about having a kid … but because that part is over now. He won’t have to worry about not getting an heir. The castle will get more guards now that there’s a baby coming. Every corner will be baby proofed and every staircase will be watched. Every window will be locked and every door blocked off. You’ll have maids surrounding you everytime Edmund’s not close. He won’t risk a. single. damn. thing.

As a father, Edmund’s absent and strict. He expects his son to be a worthy heir and continue his legacy. If he doesn't, he'll be more than disappointed. He'll watch you play with him from afar with a smile on his face. Deep inside he really loves the child, but there's so much more on his shoulders than just raising a kid. He has to teach him so, so much. He can't be a failure.

He'll teach his son to protect you when he's gone. And your son will do everything to impress his father. If you thought that Edmund was suffocating, you haven't seen his offspring.

"Why that look, my dear? Our son wasn't letting you leave the room? He threatened a guard? Oh my … sounds like it's my kid afterall. I'm proud of him. Now I know you'll be in good hands when I'm gone."

Jerry:

To be honest, Jerry doesn't want kids, but if she had one, it'd be a daughter. She knows she'll mess them up, she won't be a good mother. She's terrified of giving birth and hates toddlers. It'd be better if you already had a daughter / sister before Jerry laid her eyes on you. Wherever the child comes from, Jerry will take care of it her way. She'll teach her to protect herself and to fight. You'll notice that Jerry will be softer with her and do whatever the little girl wants. Bake a cake? Go shopping? Beat up some fifth graders? Jerry will bring her baseball bat.

Jerry will be more of a big sister / aunt, then a mother. She will move with you and the little girl to a new house to give all of you some more space. She will have her men watching the house at all times. You want to leave her, knowing that she's not good for the little girl, but the little girl seems so happy. She really thinks that Jerry is cool. Jerry will never let the two of you leave, she's never been this happy.

"Hi, baby boy/girl, how's it going? You're mad because you can't leave the house? Well, duh, it's for your safety. By the way, I brought our little girl to the shooting range. She needs to learn how to use a gun. What? No, I'm not making her into a mini-me! I'm creating a strong woman, like me. There's a difference. Now come over here with your cute, little body."

Hedwig:

Hedwig will live a traditional rich home life. Two kids, a boy and a girl, nannies, maids, chefs, everything. The four of you will have moved to another house that her family owns. The kids will go to expensive private schools and get taught by the best of the best. Hedwig will spoil them, just like she was. You'll not get to have a job and will stay home with Hedwig. She wants you to 'go full on out on your hobbies'. The only time you're allowed outside is when Hedwig’s with you. Never alone, especially never alone with the kids. You could run away with them.

As a mother, Hedwig will be present and understanding. She will stay home for the most time and will always be available. She has assistants for a reason. She'll listen to all of your kids' problems and stand up for them, even if they're at fault. Her kids can't do anything wrong. If they act spoiled and ungrateful, however … she will cut off all allowance until they understand how lucky they are. You'll do a lot of trips and go on a lot of vacations. Your kids will have a lot of freedom, but you will be wrapped around Hedwig’s expensive finger.

"Ah, they got in trouble in school again. I have to go get them. Some kid accused our son of throwing a ball in their face. I don't think our little boy could ever do that. No, sweetheart, please stay at home. I will take care of this. You shouldn't lift a finger. I love you, stay here. When i come home we can watch a movie, okay? Perfect!"

[anotheroceanid]

hi! okay this is insanely long but i had a lot of thoughts so bear with me pls.

i was scrolling through the jercy tag bc i'm starved and saw ur posts abt rhea/kronos & percy/jason and have to say i love them sm!! it's such an interesting concept and i've got a lot of cool thoughts abt them now thanks to you, buttt,, may i also offer metis/zeus & percy/jason parallels? it's a little stretch but hey idc it's fun

metis is the daughter of oceanus, percy is the son of poseidon (at both times, they're a child of the ruler of the seas) zeus is the son of kronos, jason is the son of zeus (at both times, they're a child of the ruler of the universe) metis & zeus met and fought a war to end kronos together...percy & jason unknowingly fought together during the titan war to end kronos and they do meet and work together during the giant war! and they make a great team, like in the twin giants fight

metis was a goddess of wisdom i'm pretty sure? and was zeus' advisor. i am a firm hater of the "percy is stupid" train because honestly it's percy who makes most of the battle strategies in pjo.

in fact here's some unwarranted examples: realizing what the lotus casino was, tricking crusty, figuring out the whole lightning thief debacle, giving clarisse the fleece, clearing chiron's name, figuring out he needs to take the sky, finding the nemean lion's weak spot, figuring out rachel is their guide for the labyrinth, all of his actions in the battle of manhattan tbh like he was crazy for doing all that at age 16!!, scaring chrysaor’s crew, making the combination of demigods to get nike, etc etc- i could go on and on!

so, i feel he can be related to metis in that he would be a pretty great advisor and obviously he'd be a fantastic leader. athena herself says the requests (read: demands) percy makes at the end of the second titan war are wise!

also think it could be interesting if poseidon delibrately chose to have percy look like metis. they'd probably look similar anyway but if poseidon wanted zeus to have some hesitation in killing percy, creating him to look like someone zeus greatly wronged in the style of kronos (aka eating someone) could do it?

anyway, moving onto jason! who, like zeus, is the youngest son and has a lunatic father that treats him like shit,, and at first zeus served kronos! just as jason did, but hey, if jason hadn't died when he did,, how long would he have continued to serve zeus?

rhea took zeus from kronos to be raised in crete by nymphs, like hera took jason from zeus to be raised in camp jupiter by wolves. and like rhea, hera is always on jason's side and honestly based on her toa reaction to his death, likely loved him like a son. and we know hera fucking hates zeus like rhea hated kronos.

jason is also strong as fuck, and ik rick knocked him out in every book because he didn't actually want his forced-percy-rival to actually showcase his powers but from what we know and seen he's like insane as well. PLUS he's been training since he was like 3 ik he's strong asf and zeus is sweating.

parallels😁!! uh let's hope jason doesn't eat percy though /j

i know zeus would've recognized these parallels and got insanely paranoid bc yk him. ik zeus was exhaling in relief when jason died, and there's a reason he was always trying to kill percy. he saw his sins in him! everytime he looks at percy he sees the woman he tricked and treated like shit and more-or-less killed. but he also knows metis was smart and very capable, n that's scary to him. everytime he looks at jason he sees his younger self, and that's a horrible thing to see if you're zeus lmao

of course jason is much better than zeus and percy is fairly different from metis, but it's the small parallels and zeus' paranoia that makes everything bigger.

the act we know metis most for is supplying the poison for kronos to regurgitate his kids,, and percy has a pretty close connection to poison now after his fight with akhlys :)

but yeah!! fun parallels :') sorry if this was a lot to read/hard to read

bonus: metis & zeus r cousins just like percy & jason /j

Now!!! Hear me out!!! I loooove the Metis X Percy parallels, I never talked about it here because some things I keep for the fics 🗣️🗣️🗣️ but I totally GET YOU!!!

The thing about Rhea is that they prob look a loooot alike, so people (mostly the big six and, maybe, Kronos) attribute her whole persona to Percy’s even tho many things make zero sense. Because they want him to impersonate their mother somehow to feel their void. Others might think of him more of a Perseis kinda of person, just for the destruction thing. But Metis? She was gone before most Olympians were alive, so it’s not like they have a truthful idea of what she was like, and those who remember might not have been as close to her as Zeus.

Metis was the Titaness of good counsel, planning, cunning and wisdom. Which makes us think that Athena would be a lot like her, but I personally think Athena is more a Zeus mini me. Metis being an ocean’s kid and a titaness made me believe she was a lot wilder and not exactly the usual embodiment of these concepts. Which would make her much more of a wild card, so Zeus got rid of her when the prophecy about their son showed up. So like, I can see Percy embodying Metis’ aspect of these domains (while Annabeth would be more Athena-like), and Zeus being like…

In terms of looks, she and Percy might’ve not looked the most similar, but hey, Metis would question Zeus’ authority in front of the whole council and would call out his shit whenever she felt like it.

Jason, however, is a much tamed version of his father. In a good sense. He’s not cruel, and when he’s forced to make a choice that he feels bad about it haunts him. He’s not overly confident and proud. Beyond all, he was taught loyalty to Rome and the gods from a young age, contrary to Zeus who was taught rebellion and how he was supposed to be this great saviour. For a while, this probably made Zeus more comfortable about him than he probably was about Thalia, for example, or even Percy.

But romans and Greeks learn about each other and now Jason and Percy meet and turns out Jason is SMITTEN with his cousin? Yeah, that’s a problem. Zeus would seethe, and Hera would be 100% smug about it.

Suddenly, there is something that Jason cares more than Rome or the gods. That is dangerous.

Also, something about Percy being somehow paralleled with TWO titan queens is just…

[melorambles]

i've been trying to figure out how to reconcile the antivan crow lore from origins with what we're seeing from veilguard and i think i've got some ideas:

the crows aren't a united organization with a training manual, there are base requirements and tests to pass, maybe a more universal initiation rite (probably getting put on the rack for torture resistance training like zevran talked about) in order to become a crow, but the specifics are decided by each house

and each talon is responsible for a handful of houses. maybe they've each got areas of control too, so they're getting into territory scuffles with each other, maybe stealing contracts and promising recruits from each other.

house arainai is under the sixth talon, and their methods are some sort of survival-of-the-fittest meets quantity-over-quality meets monkeys-with-typewriters. They don't care how many potential recruits they lose, because the ones who survive have the (grit? will to live? whatever it is people like that justify themselves with) and eventually something brilliant will happen. (and zevran happened.) They're more brutal, and much more prone to violent internal coups. Maybe they're also less discerning about what contracts they take and for whom. Everyone is functionally out for themselves, and take whatever contracts might give them an advantage over their competitors.

house dellamorte is obviously under the first talon, given the name we'll even go so far as to say house dellamorte is one of, if not the oldest, crow house. they've got a sort of elitism to them, maybe some snobbery. they're professionals, they have standards. They're not common cut-throats and bounty hunters. they have contract negotiators and they aren't getting out of bed for anything less than the annual income of a ferelden village.

house dellamorte are also much more discerning about recruits, but more careful and less wasteful in their training. If a recruit isn't going to make the cut, they always need more people to mix the poisons, make the weapons, repair the armor, spy for information, etc. This increases the loyalty to the house and lets them look down on 'more wasteful' houses. not that their methods are much better. all the crows are training and abusing child soldiers, its just that some are getting fed better than others and some are at more immediate risk of death all the time. but it gives members of the house more ego-based in-fighting, rather than survival based. they're not scrabbling for power to get to the top of the pile, they think they're the best already and why shouldn't the best be in charge. (just a generalizing of the different reasons for political infighting, individual characters would have individual reasons)

each house/talon-ship(? someone come up with a better word for that or its going to stick) polices it's own. its supremely embarrassing to have another house step in and clean up your mess. so, of course everybody is always looking for weaknesses in everybody else. houses and talon-ships may ally with each other, but the strength of those alliances varies. We're talking assassin politics here, make it complicated, bloody, and messy.

so in origins, we're learning about the crows through zevran, who came up from the bottom of one of the harshest houses. zevran was literally bought by the crows, tortured by them, feels no true loyalty to them, and was literally ready to escape via death. and in veilguard we're seeing the crows through lucanis, who is essentially the ivy league gentry. lucanis was raised in the family business, with the personal attention of the family matriach who had impossibly high expectations (and he could explain away her treatment of him with the death of their family and her wanting him to survive, which does not justify how he was treated) he was more worried about not living up to than anything else. If rook is played as a crow, they're coming from a house closely allied with house dellamorte, so they presumably have similar standards.