#breed-specific exercise
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gettingadooog · 11 months ago
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Unique Exercise Needs of Different Dog Breeds
Is your dog getting the right exercise? 🐾 Discover how different breeds need different workouts for their best health! #BreedFitness #DogExercise #CanineWellness
Exercise is as vital to our canine companions as it is to us, humans. However, not all dogs are created equal when it comes to their exercise needs. In this comprehensive guide, we will delve into the unique exercise requirements of various dog breeds, ensuring you provide the best care for your furry friend. The Importance of Tailored Exercise Just like humans, dogs come in all shapes and…
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cutepupsupplies · 1 year ago
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How Often Should You Walk Your Dog?
How Often Should You Walk Your Dog? on Cute Pup Supplies - https://www.cutepupsupplies.shop/how-often-should-you-walk-your-dog/
How Often Should You Walk Your Dog?
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Discover the key to a happy, healthy pup with our guide on how often you should walk your dog. Uncover expert insights into tailoring the perfect routine for your furry friend’s breed, age, and unique needs. Elevate your dog’s well-being and strengthen your bond through the power of daily walks.
https://www.cutepupsupplies.shop/how-often-should-you-walk-your-dog/
breed-specific exercise, canine exercise, dog behavior, dog health, dog walking, happy dog, mental stimulation, pet care, pet fitness, Pet Well-being, physical activity, puppy walks, senior dog exercise, walking routine #BreedSpecificExercise, #CanineExercise, #DogBehavior, #DogHealth, #DogWalking, #HappyDog, #MentalStimulation, #PetCare, #PetFitness, #PetWellBeing, #PhysicalActivity, #PuppyWalks, #SeniorDogExercise, #WalkingRoutine
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veganagenda · 11 months ago
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fascinating new argument has entered the animal rights field: "it's okay to breed animals for a specific human-related purpose over a long period of time and then continue exploit their bodies for that purpose even when they are no longer obligated to because they enjoy fulfilling that purpose. because we bred them to enjoy it"
Not to sound like I was raised by protestants, but I think those kids who argue that it's animal abuse to put working dog breeds to work doing the tasks they were bred and born for have simply genuinely never encountered the concept that they, too, could be genuinely happier if they could do work they found wortwhile and enjoyable. Like engaging in useful and constructive activities might genuinely make life better than a life of doing absolutely nothing because nobody's making you do anything.
#“genetic memory” oh you mean the genes? that we bred into them? *for the purpose of exploiting them?*#yes I'm sure that must feel like a PROFOUND moment of spiritual awakening and cosmic joy for them#like they're finally truly connecting to the authentic nature of their souls. and. certainly Not the result of Literal Genetic Conditioning#this is 'but horses need exercise 🥺' and 'but sheep need to be sheared 🥺' all over again Good Lord#isn't it just So convenient that the ones who still ultimately benefit/profit from this dynamic/narrative are the Exploiters?#'no no it's okay to exploit them because we made it so they cannot function or be happy if we don't. see? it all works out fine 😊❤'#I wonder if dogs 'genetically remember' a long history of being abused by their owners for failing to perform their tasks too 🤔🤔🤔#you know. because it's just so *incredibly* easy to treat an animal ethically when you literally Create them with the intention of#a) being your property and b) performing labour for your benefit#and I'm sure destigmatizing the concept of 'putting these dogs to work' certainly isn't a narrative that will ultimately benefit#those people who Do still actively exploit and abuse these animals for labour and want the legal right to do so 🤔🤔🤔 surely not.#'herders will herd because herders must herd' yes exactly. herders will heard because they'll get disciplined if they don't#where do you think the concept of being 'well trained' comes from?????#“nobody's making you do anything” I think breeding an animal for a specific purpose certainly counts as Making Them Do That Thing#is OP seriously comparing like. human beings Enjoying Doing Meaningful Work to animals that had their Genetic Coding Physically Altered????#BY HUMANS??????????? SO WE COULD EXPLOIT THEM FOR IT???????????????#IN WHAT WORLD ARE THOSE COMPARABLE SITUATIONS.#'Ah I love being an artist and performing massive amounts of voluntary labour for something I'm passionate about'#'truly feels like I've found my life's purpose!!! my true calling!!!'#'I'm so glad that race of benevolent aliens coded my love of art into my DNA strands 😊💞💞💞'#'boy they sure do seem excited to sell all my paintings though!!! wonder what that's all about'#and don't even get me STARTED on 'everyone deserves to experience that at some point in their life'#the level of romanticization and anthropomorphization here makes me wanna' Barf#do you seriously think animals are Incapable of feeling any kind of emotional or physical fulfillment without being BRED into it????#do you think this was like??? a nice GIFT we gave them???? out of our sheer benevolence and desire for their happiness????????#let's not even BEGIN to unpack the harrowing implications of genes fundamentally dictating a living being's ''purpose'' in life#because WHEW BOY. that line of thinking veers DANGEROUSLY close to a certain political ideology.#and let me be clear I'm not talking about like giving a dog a similar form of activity to its ''purpose'' as enrichment that's Fine#but OP specifically says 'putting working dog breeds To Work doing the tasks they were bred and born for.' aka. continuing to exploit them#why do you think they were bred and born for it? huh? for THEIR benefit? for THEIR enjoyment?
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auspicioustidings · 4 months ago
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I would love an omegaverse take wherein the omega is sort of like a honey trap deal. They're trained by some secretive branch of the SAS specifically to fuck with alphas because in a war zone an omega showing up and whining will send them all into a rut and they're actually easier to deal with then because they become so incredibly stupid. Like they will go headfirst into obvious traps to get to this omega.
Mostly because I can see alpha team 141 being totally humbled during training when they bring the omega in and it goes exactly how the higher ups said it would. They completely fuck the training exercise, lose their heads and get entirely outdone by one omega who is using their designations against them. And oh boy they are furious over it. They're traditional alphas, very much of the opinion that omegas are good for breeding and looking after kids but otherwise should just be put in a fluffy nest and left to look pretty. An omega being a trained soldier? Being one that's got the best of them? Totally unacceptable. They want to use their designations against them? Well let's see how they like it the other way around :)
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the-californicationist · 9 months ago
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The Window (Ch. 03)
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Ch. 01 // Ch. 02 // Ch. 03 --- AO3
TW: breeding kink, reverse harem
You were sweating buckets in this brush cover, waiting for the enemy to pop their head over the fence. Beads of salty perspiration ran down your face in thin rivulets, threatening your eyes and soaking into your keffiyeh. 
“You alright, little bird?” Price whispered down to you breathlessly, passing you his canteen. 
You nodded, drinking from the plastic container, slaking your thirst. You shouldn’t have been having such a hard time with the Urzikstani heat, but you were. It didn’t help that you’d gotten sick yesterday off of a bad MRE. You were just ready for this mission to be over with. 
“I didn’t hurt you last night, did I, Spar?” Ghost asked, checking his sights again, not taking his eyes off of the target. 
“No,” you shook your head, “I’m alright.”
Ghost’s comment made your memory of your night together rush back, bombarding you with ghosts of your mens’ tantric sensations all over again. 
Price had read another book about fertility, some ancient text from a few centuries ago, translated into English. And he’d been convinced that tantra was the way to go. 
“Slow down, Simon. Keep your breathing up, yeah just like that. From your belly. Tha’s a good lad,” the captain coached. 
John’s setup was very specific. All of their bodies were sandwiched around you as you lay with your back on Price’s chest, propped up into a lounging position, and Soap and Gaz were glued to your sides, each worshiping a breast at their commander’s instruction. 
Soap’s hand was glued to your belly, just above your mons, pressing down gently, squeezing you. Gaz’s hand was on your midsection, hopefully covering the right chakra, and Price’s hands were on your chest and forehead, holding your eyes up, staring into Simon’s struggling face. Meanwhile, Ghost was sheathed deep inside of you, rotating his hips without fully removing his cock, churning himself inside of you like a big, burly engine, breathing like he was running a marathon. 
You, too, were breathing. In when he breathed in, out when he breathed out. All of you were rubbing and massaging and inhaling and exhaling. It was overwhelming. You’d never been so wet in your life. You were so soft and pliant inside of your core that you could feel every micro movement that Simon performed. If he had actually been pounding into you like he normally did, you would have been a screaming, crying mess. 
“Alright, little bird. Don’t forget your exercises,” Price reminded you, kissing your neck. You could feel John’s drooling cock as it lolled against your lower back, twitching as he watched his lieutenant work you into a froth. 
You did as you were told, completing the ritual by squeezing your smooth, internal muscles around Ghost’s impossibly fat dick on every down breath. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Ghost grunted through his teeth, baring them like a wounded wolf, “I can’t…”
You raised your hands to cup his cheeks, feeling the jagged scar that cut across his mouth, and you guided his lips to yours, kissing him as gently as you could, barely letting your tongue dart out to taste him. 
Between your throbbing pussy and his soft kisses, that was all it took to push you both over the edge. He came in hot, thick bursts, more than you’d ever felt from him, and he ground his hips into yours almost menacingly. 
“Alright,” Price kissed your cheek, his face so close to Simon’s it made your head spin, “You ready?”
You didn’t respond. You just felt your legs being spread apart by six strong hands. Then, each of Price’s men began to finger you, slowly pressing their longest digits into your come-filled hole. They began to gently — ever so gently — rub Ghost’s thick cream into you, as deep as it would go, stretching you and playing in you in a life-altering way, bringing you beyond the point of orgasm and into some sort of other-worldly bliss. 
For the cherry on top, your captain began to swipe long, wet circles over your clit. You were screaming so loudly that he had to use his other hand to cover your mouth, shushing you but not stopping his ministrations.  
“Tha’s a good girl. Let it out, little bird.”
You passed out from the overstimulation before you could witness Price’s orchestrated tantra come to a close, and you wondered if you would survive round two. 
Now, as you crouched behind these scratchy bushes, you weren’t sure how much more effective tantric sex would be at getting you pregnant, but it didn’t matter. 
You already were. 
You hadn’t told them yet. From everything you’d read, these first few weeks were a toss-up. Anything could happen, and the last thing you needed was to get everyone’s hopes up. You were also being deeply selfish. What would your relationship be like when you finally found out who the father was? You didn’t want to lose out on the incredible bond you’d built with them over these last three months. 
Your eyes saw movement. Then, you heard the cracking and popping sound of bullets striking the side of the building you were huddled against. Suddenly, a loud bang rang out overhead and all was silent once more. Soap came on the radio and said, 
“Target down.” 
“I’m hit,” you whispered, staring down at your leg with disbelief. A bullet must have ricocheted and struck you in the calf. In and out. A clean wound. 
“What?” Price said breathlessly, staring down at you as the blood began to stain your pants. 
“Oh, fuck!” Gaz scrambled over to you and scooped you up, rushing you back inside. He put pressure on the wound and wrapped it up tight, opening up his comms, “Hey! We need med-evac right fucking now!”
Johnny came down from his crow’s nest and knelt in front of you, holding your hand, 
“Those fuckin’ bastards,” he looked furious, “I wasnae fast enough.”
“It’s not your fault,” you shook your head, feeling your blood pressure rise, “I think it was a stray shot.”
You heard Price’s low growl as he came over the radio, screaming at Laswell’s extraction team, 
“Where’s my fuckin’ helo?”
You watched as Price and Ghost stripped the makeshift base back to its bones, stuffing all of your gear into the bags. Gaz and Soap were on you like glue, forcing you to elevate your leg and to drink water. Rubbing your forehead, trying to relieve the pain. 
It was a long thirty minutes back to the base. Price held you in his arms all the way through the building, pushing everyone out of the way. You were flanked by the others, like one big, sweaty bodyguard squad, just for you. 
The medics took you from Price, ushering your team out of the infirmary, fighting their protests to stay with you.
“It’s a GSW to the leg, captain. I think she’ll live,” the doctor rolled his eyes and shut the door. 
After that, the only thing you could remember was coming around, still groggy from the anesthetic, listening to the doctor’s voice just outside the room, muffled and murky,
“...no complications. Should heal up in a few weeks. The baby’s lifesigns are all norm—”
“Baby?!” 
The door to the infirmary shuddered like a bomb went off, and all four men poured into the room, still dressed in their gear from your mission. They hadn’t even gone back to their quarters, worried sick, pacing the hallway. Now, here they were, wide-eyed and staring at you for some explanation. 
There was a long pause as you tried to figure out what to say. But then, Soap said it for you, a hint of hurt in his voice,
“You knew.”
It wasn’t a question, so you didn’t answer him. You simply put your hands over your belly, protectively, stammering an excuse,
“I didn’t — You shouldn’t get your hopes up. It’s too soon.”
They all spoke at once, an eruption of emotion in the tiny room, 
“...should’ve told us at once! We…”
“...you felt you had to hide it…”
“...could’ve been killed on this mission! How could…”
The doctor came back inside, huffing at the scene,
“What the fuck is this? Mamma Mia? Get the hell out! She needs rest. Get! That’s an order, Captain.”
Price and his men were silent, sorely cowed by the doctor’s orders. Soap came to your side, kissing your forehead,
“See you soon, bonnie.”
Ghost gave you a soft smile and followed him out. Gaz brushed the hair out of your face and put his hand over yours as they lay across your belly, waiting for flutters and kicks that weren’t there. His full lips found yours and he left you wordlessly.
John was the last to leave. He looked like he was at war with himself, fighting over what to say and how to say it. His boonie hat was twisted in his hands, rolled in his palms, crushed by his immense strength. He didn’t kiss you. He didn’t even say goodbye. But, those bright blue eyes bored into yours, telling you everything you needed to know. 
You were released with a pair of crutches the following morning, and while you didn’t need them there, none of the boys showed up to help you like you thought they would. You made it all the way back to your quarters before you ran into Laswell. 
“Hey, Sparrow. How are you feeling?”
“I’ll live. Where is the 141? Is there a training or something?”
“No,” Laswell knitted her brow, not wanting to share her news, “You’ve been… temporarily reassigned. They have redeployed on another mission. Three days in Aqtabi. I’m sure they’ll touch base when they get back.”
“Reassigned?” You couldn’t believe it. You knew Price was protective, but this was going too far, “I’m… He took me off the team?”
“It’s temporary. Just until…” You watched in disbelief as her eyes trailed down not to your wound but to your belly, “Well, anyway, congratulations, soldier.”
She gave you a soft smile and left you standing in the hallway, experiencing every emotion at once, and landing on anger. No, not anger. White-hot rage.
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fatkish · 10 months ago
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Aizawa x Autistic cat-quirk Reader 3/3 NSFW
Part 2:
Part 1:
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(Art not mine again, I found it on Pinterest)
As you and Aizawa got further into your relationship eventually you moved into his apartment. Aizawa was more than happy to be able to come home to you and be able to spend his time with you without having to worry about meeting up or making time to go anywhere. Since you moved in with Aizawa there are things you did specifically to help accommodate your needs. Aizawa gave you full support and permission to do whatever you needed to make his home yours as well.
A few of the changes you made were installing various hide boxes that you placed around your’s and Shouta’s house/apartment, they have little cat beds inside and a curtain covering the entrance to them.
The boxes are actually color coded based on how you’re feeling and how one should interact with you.
Green means you’re feeling good and are happy to interact, yellow means you’re a little anxious but are up for snuggles, red means you’re overwhelmed and leave you alone.
Aizawa’s other cats liked the hide boxes so you made bigger ones and helped him create an exercise course for his cats to use that runs along the walls
There is also a small water fountain that you placed in Aizawa’s apartment for his cats to drink from, you replace the water every day and wipes it down to clean it
You’ve also put brushes on the sides of certain furniture, walls, and on the cat’s towers. These brushes help you as well as Aizawa’s cats with grooming and helps reduce the amount of hair on everything and the amount of hairballs. The brushes are easy to clean and remove hair from. The cats just have to rub themselves against it and it brushes their fur collecting any loose hair.
As you both began sleeping in the same house/apartment Aizawa has gotten to see a lot more of your unfiltered self.
Sometimes when you’re completely in the Autistic zone you’ll just lay on his chest and lick Aizawa’s stubble whenever he’s laying down. You’ve explained to him that sometimes you just have an unstoppable urge to lick him and that you enjoy the feeling of his stubble. You apologized for it but he doesn’t mind it and lets you just follow your instincts.
While he was asleep you had played with his scarf and got tangled in it only for him to wake up to you yowling and angry, he laughed as he untangled you
Sometimes you’ll use cat behaviors to express yourself without words. One of the ways is when you make biscuits: you’ll do this whenever you’re happy in both cat and human form. Sometimes you don’t even realize you’re doing it.
another thing is Bunting: (y/n)’ll rub on Aizawa and leaves their scent on him every time he leaves the house (hound dog thought an intruder got inside UA and tracked the scent only to find Aizawa. He explained that a cat quirked friend rubbed their scent on him and that’s what inui is smelling)
Eventually Aizawa had to introduce you to his friends. At first when you met Hizashi you were spooked by his loud voice and even puffed up your fur with your back arched hissing at him.
After a bit you got used to his presence and carefully approached him. The moment he started scratching your head and giving you pets you folded and that’s when you both became friends.
After having known him for awhile you and Hizashi worked together to create a cat music playlist for his radio station. They created “cat radio: the 9 to 5 station for your feline friend” the station plays music for cats created by various artists and plays Monday to Saturday from 9:00 am to 5:00 pm.
You gave him a list of sounds that cats enjoy and he mixed them together and created a rhythm that sounded almost like human music.
Whenever they hang out he plays his newest pieces for them and they tell him what they think and if it could be improved.
Sometimes on Sundays, Hizashi and reader will accept calls to the studio or will open emails/letters from the listeners of the cat radio channel and reader will answer the listener’s questions about their cats and give advice as well as help the listeners understand their cats and somewhat translate for the cat(s) using their quirk’s ability to communicate with cats. Sometimes they have special guests such as veterinarians to answer questions and discuss cat things.
After some time (y/n) eventually met Nemuri as well. Nemuri immediately fell in love with (y/n) and quickly became their relationship coach. Whenever you’re having issues or need help with anything you call Nemuri for advice. She’s the one who helped Aizawa with the more intimate aspects of your relationship.
One time as a joke, Hizashi gave (y/n) catnip just to see what they’d do, only for them to get really horny and tackle Aizawa when he got home.
They kept biting him and eventually he had to lock them in a room to relieve their urges with the help of some ‘toys’ and needless to say, Aizawa was extremely exhausted afterwards but enjoyed tying his little kitten up.
However after that he never allowed catnip near them again unless (y/n) agreed beforehand due to how it makes them feel
When they get frisky in bed Aizawa will often bite the back of their neck where they have a human scruff, the skin there is just more loose and stretchy.
He will also make sounds like a seductive growl or rumbling when he bites it. This causes reader to become completely relaxed and intensifies their physical sensitivities as well as their 5 senses when they’re having sex.
You also experiences heats instead of periods(for you girls). (Boys experience heats too)
During this time you become especially sensitive and horny. Aizawa will mark and track the days leading to your heat so he can prepare for it.
He has bought various toys that he can control from his phone as well as a teddy bear that he recorded messages on for you to listen to his voice when he isn’t home and you need to relieve yourself
A lot of the messages are dirty talking telling you what he’s going to do to you when he gets home, praises and compliments or just him telling you how much he loves you
“Who’s my pretty little kitty? That feel good? I can’t wait to get home, you’d better prep yourself, because I’m not going give you any time to prepare.”
“Look at you, you’re so wet, such a naughty little kitten, making a mess.”
“You’re such a pretty little kitty, making such cute little noises, I just can’t wait to get home and sink my teeth into you and fuck you all night”
“Face down, ass in the air kitten, you know how I like it”
“Look at this cute little ass, maybe I should tie you up, make you beg for me as I spank you”
“I’m going to make you scream so loud you’re gonna give Hizashi a run for his money.”
“That’s it, good (girl, boy, kitty) go on and purr for me baby let me know how good I’m making you feel.”
“You’re so tight, I love you so much.”
When he does get home during their heats, he’s always happy to help them.
During your heats he’ll give you catnip on occasion as an aphrodisiac to help you when he’s especially tired since it makes you even more sensitive.
After your heats Aizawa will happily snuggle you and help you get around since you’re sore afterwards more often than not.
All in all, your relationship with Aizawa is purrfect, and he couldn’t ask for anything more.
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allthecanadianpolitics · 4 months ago
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A recently released international report says Canada’s temporary foreign worker program is a “breeding ground” for contemporary slavery. The final report by a United Nations special rapporteur who visited Canada last year says a power imbalance prevents workers from exercising their rights. A worker’s status is dependent on a closed work permit that is specific to their employer. If an individual is fired, they may be deported from Canada. Workers are subject to a wide range of abuses and aren’t always aware of their rights, the report says. [...]
Continue Reading.
Tagging: @newsfromstolenland, @vague-humanoid
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abbysbasement · 2 years ago
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ABBY ANDERSON NSFW ALPHABET
AN: I’m tiki!! this is the first fic I’ve posted to tumblr :D super self-indulgent, a bunch of different kinks. started writing this on my birthday and it beat my ass for 3 weeks. I hope you all like it!!! this was supposed to be strictly nsfw but then somehow it became fluff midway because she deserves it ;-; crazy how much love i have for the pretty girl who lives in my playstation 5
content tags (many of these are just ments or glossed over):
reader insert fic, discusses an established relationship between Abby and r | fingering (r! receiving) | cunnilingus (r! receiving) | strap-on sex (r!receiving) | strap-on blowjob, packing (all in ‘Toys’) | cum eating and swapping mentioned briefly | degradation and rough sex in ‘Risk’ and ‘Volume’ | mentions of mindbreak and dollification in ‘Dirty Secret’ | strength/helplessness kink | exercise kink/play(????) in ‘Stamina’ | praise, breeding, and primal sex kink | erotic asphyxiation (specifically headlocking) in ‘Quickie’ | public masturbation in ‘Jack Off’ | objectification (played with, in ‘Stamina’ | spit drinking, spitting and other bodily fluids in ‘Risk’ and ‘Toys’ | overstimulation in ‘Unfair’ | inner monologue alludes to fisting but it doesn’t actually happen ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ in ‘Quickie’ | assplay, anal stimulation if you blink in ‘Wild Card’ | mommy kink in ‘Volume,’ similar verbiage, different context in ‘Kink’
MEN AND MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY
word count: 5.4k (oof.)
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
abby’s aftercare is the stuff of dreams. you’ll be laying on the bed, still restless and trembling from whatever scene was prior, feeling the dent in the bed smooth out as abby tugs on her boxers and stumbles topless, hair messy, and strap probably still wet (;-;) into the bathroom. you would hear the metal of the harness clatter down to the tile floor before she brings back a couple of damp, warm towels to wipe you down with. she’d massage your back and thighs and ass, making sure to work out all of the tension and soothe any aches, occasionally rubbing lotion on your skin and healing cream over any scratch marks she left behind, soothing any bruises she left behind by rubbing gentle circles over them with her knuckles and icing them if need be. kissing and sucking on any exposed skin she can get to, smoothing down your hair, and cleaning out your tears with a cloth. if it was any more intense play like degradation or humiliation, she would reassure you, looking you into your eyes, kissing you, and rubbing little lines into your cheek with the pads of her thick thumbs, telling you that no matter what, you’re her forever choice, that she loves you more than anything on this earth.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
abby spends a lot of time in the gym sculpting her perfect body, so naturally, her favourite body parts are her thighs and biceps. she’s extremely cocky about her physique, how it draws stares, elicits whispers, and wets panties. lords it over her partner and has a major strength/helplessness kink, pinning you down and watching how the muscles in your arms pulsate and flex but barely make a move. It’s mind-blowing how she can flip you over, legs in the air, back resting over one shoulder with a heavy palm over your tummy, and hammer into you with two thick, calloused fingers until your release is weeping down her wrists and forming a steady drip onto her chest. revels in how your might is only a fraction of hers. adores body worship, giving and receiving; the sensation of her partner running their tongue over the veins and scars on her body is enough to drive her insane with lust. abby is obsessed with her lover’s body, and if you have any insecurities, they’ll be constantly met with kisses, rubs, hickies, and bite marks. her favourite part of your body is your stomach; rubbing it when you're sick, using it as a pillow when you’re cuddling on the bed and watching an old movie, or using it for grip when she’s hitting it from the b-
nonsexually, she thinks that her nose is the best feature on her face, the easiest way to steal a rare giggle or smile from her is to give it a kiss, and she always rubs it against yours before you both fall asleep at night.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Abby doesn’t orgasm particularly fast; she needs a lot more love and attention to cum well and cum hard, so you have to take your time with her; gets really soft and emotional with how patient and gentle you are with her body. gets primarily visual arousal, and when she gets riled up, it's like a water fountain, with super wet stained panties, her lips all pretty and glistening, literally talking to you with squelches and squishy smacking noises ringing out of her juicy cunny. naturally, she gets super shy and red-faced about this. squirt drinker with no regrets, really into the idea of cum swapping, taking it upon herself to make out with you after eating your pussy.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
abby’s dirty secret is that she has a huge dependence kink. she fantasizes about you to being happily stupid, mindbroken, eating out of her palm as she pampers you, creating her own personal plaything and dolly. being able to take what she wants when she wants it, or dressing you up how she wants to see you and having you wear it out, no matter how revealing or embarrassing the outfit is. wants you to see her as your saviour, taking her fingers, or her tongue, or her cock easily, never thinking big girl thoughts, never thinking period because it makes your head hurt, and when your head hurts, you get sad :(( feeding you, clothing you, bathing you, keeping you sheltered and happy with your simple needs in your simple, silly little head. abby is a natural protector and provider, so she does all of these things automatically anyways, but the added arousal of you needing her, of allowing her to own you in every way, being worshipped by you, and being your only safe space adds a level of eroticism that she’s shy to admit.
of course, you would always be content, always joyful to make your owner smile and feel good! happily offering up your holes or going in between her thighs like a good dolly should, because you’re grateful to her. she provides everything else, so why not?
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
abby is not thoroughly experienced with long-term dynamics, she’s had a decent amount of casual sex, but this is a rare foray into actual *romance.* she’s ambitious and has tried different things, but she needs a push sometimes to be more vocal with communicating her sexual needs or telling you what she wants to be done to her in the bedroom. over time and with comfort and trust, she'll become more comfortable with setting boundaries, introducing kinks and other types of play, but she starts shy and closed off. on a purely physical side, became very attentive and skilled over a short amount of time, and is willing to try pretty much anything that isn’t a hard limit.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
abby is obsessed with any position she can show off her physical capabilities in while she’s fucking you. hoisting your legs over your head and pinning them to the bed in mating press while she slams to the hilt like a restless madwoman, each thrust grinding into that rough, almond-shaped sore deep in your wetness that sends shutdown instructions to your brain? check. across a desk, table, countertop, whatever, holding you in a mock-wheelbarrow position, one leg crooked through her arm while the other struggles for balance against your weight and the pattered bump of her fucking in and out of you as your hands scramble the table, fighting for a grip? check. using her superior planking skills to bear all of her weight onto you while she sloughs her cock in and out of you while you lay on your stomach, helpless but to take it, strong arms wrapped around your head as a hand plays in the hair at the crown of your skull? check.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
tries to portray a serious stoic dom during scenes, but sometimes she’ll fuck up a sexy line she’s been brainstorming and you’ll hear her try, (and fail) to stifle a snort and giggle. fights herself not to crack jokes at some of the silly shit the two of you say when you’re peaking, or your varying o-faces. during vanilla sex and when she’s not trying to put on a persona, abby can be very goofy in the bedroom.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
expect tufts of shiny, curly dirty blonde hair around the perimeter of her pussy. it might trail down her thighs, depending on how grown it is, and blends into a soft happy trail going up her stomach to her belly button. if it gets too tangly or hot outside, she might trim it a bit with scissors, but other than that, abby doesn’t really care or think about ‘keeping up’ with her pubic hair. word flies through the stadium that hairy pussy is her weakness, so if you keep yours bushier, don’t be surprised if abby has to compose herself before she digs in.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
emotional intimacy is crucial to her, and constantly being in a space where just for survival she has to compartmentalise her humanity wears down on her mentally. she’s confused when she wakes up in the morning after your first time together, and you’re cuddled into the space between her shoulder and her underarm; sunlight dappling your face as it leaks in through the holes in the privacy shield against the window. after you promised one another that there would be no feelings, no strings attached, just the two of you passing the time and having fun, she doesn’t wake up alone.
sometimes, you’re so sweet to her that she has to fight back tears, which she promptly plays off. you run the edge of your nails up and down her scalp while she’s still bathing in the afterglow of an orgasm, and she feels free. abby loves when you give her pet names, big girl, baby, goldie, prince charming, but when she slides her flat palms under your shirt, rubbing up and down your torso, and you breathe out just ‘abs,’ that's when she knows she’s found her way home.
in her eyes, there is no god, but she understands worship when she fucks into you slowly, gently, opening you up bit by bit, her whispers almost inaudible in the crook of your neck as she cradles you in her hands like she’s trying to capture a moment in time; she understood what it meant to be sanctified when you kiss for a long time, hands exploring one another, all of her hard on all of your soft, and don’t end up fucking. for years she’s felt like a tool for other people to use, so it’s hard for her to verbalise her needs in fear of being shut down, but somehow, you just… know. she lets her guard down for you, gets too pliant and lazy and comfortable in a way that she’s still learning to be okay with. she’s still working on emotional availability and being open with herself and others, but you remind her that she exists, and abby is forever grateful for that.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
abby isn’t super chronically horny, but will definitely turn to her hand if it’s been an extended patrol run where she has to be away from you for multiple nights at a time. she thanks her lucky stars the first time she opens her pack while camping out with her team at Eight and finds naughty polaroids you snuck in her bag. she finds it easy to treat her insomnia on those nights by shoving her fingers deep into her pussy and curling against her swollen g-spot, while her thumb flicks against the mass of her clit, sending shockwaves that spasm her toes and travel up her spine to the top of her head.
she has to use the flat of her palm against her mouth to stifle adorable, high pitched moans as her hips snap wildly, chasing an orgasm that rips through her body, leaving her panting heavily and leaking the contents of her fucked-out hole down her ass. she’s woken you up before with how loud and intense her sounds can be, so she hopes she can keep quiet well enough to not wake her squadmates stirring in their sleep.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
abby is heavily turned on by praise; tell her that she’s fucking you so good, that she’s hitting that spot just right, that she’s so pretty and strong and takes care of you just how you need it, and you’ll drive her crazy with love and lust. despite the fact that she reasonably can’t, abby always gets a kick out of you begging her to cum inside of you, to give you a baby, which she happily obliges, pressing deep into you with your feet to your ears, taking advantage of how much bigger and stronger she is, how tiny and pathetic and weak you are when you struggle, licking tears of ecstasy from your eyes and growling, “you want me to make you into a mommy, huh? –to blow my fuckin’ load deep in you?”
loves primal sex, fucking you on your tummy, against your bedroom door, in a headlock, over the table… enough said, just hunting you like prey and using all of her physical dominance to control your body like an animal, wrenching orgasm after orgasm out of your body even when you’re begging and pleading that it’s too much. she wants to dumb you out, ruin your mind and make you think only of her, living, breathing, existing only off of how good she makes you feel.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
abby is on whatever you’re on, honestly. she’s more careful at the stadium or the FOB, not wanting to do anything that jeopardises your reputations or her cushy position at isaac’s right hand. okay with weighing risks at home base, but she’s too paranoid and focused on keeping you safe in a dangerous world to do anything when the two of you are outside the fence. her baby isn’t a soldier, so you might be more idealistic and naive about what lies outside of the walls. it’s hard for her to let her guard down when you’re too sweet, too optimistic, too soft, and there are a million terrible, horrible ways she could lose you lurking around every corner. the most you’ll get while on patrol is a quick make-out session, a couple of playful slaps to your ass or a hand on your waist pulling you from here to there, and at *most* a little bit of bump and grind in a deadbolted room. if she can guarantee your safety and comfort, she’ll oblige. but she’s not hard to convince, and she can’t deny your puppy eyes when you ask for a late-night quickie in the community showers. but all in all, she prefers her bedroom, where the two of you can be as loud as you want, where she can make the bed shake and rattle and hear you whine and moan and cry as much as she wants.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
loses her mind over tension. sexual tension, romantic tension, when you two are so pissed at each other that you could tear the other apart with bare hands. firm believer that the make-up sex is the best part of a fight. heated arguments turn into rough, primal fucking to fix both of your attitudes. the two of you stealing heated glances across the cafeteria while you work the consignment desk turns into the two of you huddled in a utility closet, abby’s cheeks warming the space between your breasts, raking a finger through your folds painfully slow. when you see her after a long rotation in her militia gear, bloody, covered in dirt and whatever else but still whole and still yours, your soldier, your protector– it’s like the two of you go into fucking heat, romping like bunnies for hours while you reward her for a job well done, letting her burn off all of that pent up adrenaline and jumpiness from the day.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
she’s really anxious about hard impact. she’s painfully aware of how much stronger she is than the average woman, and she’ll never get anywhere more physical than a firm slap on your ass or pussy, or little slaps to your cheek to redirect you during play. she’s terrified of hurting you, and she’ll never go farther than that, even if you really want her to.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
abby’s a head monster. can eat you out for HOURS to the point of overstimulation. gripping and slapping your ass, squishing your pussylips between two fingers, relishing in the way that your gush leaks from the seams, wrenching your thighs apart so she can have easy access to fuck you out with her tongue. she’s a bit impartial to receiving when you first get together. she considers herself a service top; she gets off watching you get off, and great head is infrequent at the stadium. that all changed the first time you offered, tongue plying down into her musky heat, savouring the salty-sweetness of her warmth. from there, she was lost, fucking your mouth and chasing her own pleasure. the only thing breaking her out of her haze was the feeling of you lightly slapping her inner thigh, running out of breath from the heavy palm tangled in your hair holding you tight to her cunt. she apologised profusely afterward that she was too blissed out, that she’ll be more mindful next time. you two still laugh about how the head was so good she tried to kill you; poor baby doesn’t know her own strength :(
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Most times, if she's lethargic and sleepy from a long shift she’ll let you take complete control, riding her until your orgasm and then falling asleep on her tummy. Other times, like days off, she's in full control; fucking you like she hates you in the prone position as she pushes you down with her weight, or laying in bed and holding your leg up in the air effortlessly as she fucks you slow and romantic from the side.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
abby desires you in every way. it doesn’t really matter to her, as long as she can get her hands on you. she loves quickies for their tense, ’try not to get caught’ vibe and the challenge of seeing how fast she can ruin you with just her fingers and tongue, but in reality, she’s not very good at them. she’s fucked you ten minutes before she had to roll out for patrol, just because she was pent up from last night and you looked soo fucking irresistible. fucking you fast and rough with her arm around your throat, doling out breath as she saw fit, your eyes rolling back as you got brought to orgasm and then taken back to the starting line over and over. it carried over so late that they had a rookie come to her door and knock looking for her. needless to say, that rookie got chewed out and taken off her next patrol for insubordination.
but I think she relishes getting to be slow with you. everything in her life is so fast, so twitchy, always on edge, so she really values getting to lay down in bed with you and take you down piece by piece. spreading open your lips and working you open finger by finger until you’re all swollen down there and leaking over her palm, pussy so cute and red and puffy and just *begging* for her thumb to slide in too. introducing the strap to your well-used, well-warmed-up cunt, and analysing every muscle in your face as you keen at the insertion. she’ll rub your clit achingly slow, listening as you babble for more, to stop teasing, to fuck you the way that only she knows, and marvels at how your hard clit stands at attention and bounces around her fingertips. when she’s done, abby wants it to be hours after, your moans still stuck to the ceiling, pussy clenching and unclenching, wetting the sheets as you’re left a defiled slut, but most importantly, hers and hers only.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
abby anderson is good for being adventurous in bed, but she’s only really comfortable with simple risks; erotic asphyxiation, rope bondage, spanking. one night, you asked her if she could bring her service pistol into the bedroom –unloaded, disassembled and reassembled, of course– and it was a firm ‘no.’ but she still thinks about it sometimes, not gonna lie. she never wants to put you in a place where recklessness can get one, or both of you seriously injured or worse.
but what she didn’t know, however, was that she was getting into a relationship with a crazy fucking daredevil. you’re practically owned by trying to convince her to fuck in risky, dangerous places.
"babe, why don’t i give you some head? you cleared out this scar camp sooo good–!" "no."
":(( let's scissor in this abandoned tunnel, then!" "stop. we gotta sweep the area for infected."
"are you sure you don’t want some pussy off the side of this ferris wh–" "what the fuck did i say?"
under normal circumstances, abby wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to punish you for being bratty, but right now she’s trying to keep her lunch inside, thankyouverymuch!
sidebar but sometimes she’ll just snap after all of your failed attempts at seducing her, pushing you into the dirt wherever you are, and just… starts savagely hard domming you, sheathing her strap into your cunt with her hand over your mouth and the other fisted in your hair, pulling by the roots, wedging your mouth open and making you swallow thick gobs of her spit.
“this what you wanted, right?” yanking your head up to meet her face, eyes burning with rage. “and you better be fuckin’ quiet. goddamn liability.” she sneers into your ear, bottoming out into you over and over again and battering your cervix and tender inner walls, the pleasure and degradation making fat tears run down your cheeks. fortunately (for her, at least,) she doesn’t have any more problems with disobedience for the rest of the journey back to the FOB.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
dating a gym rat wasn’t your most well-thought-out idea, as she has so much more stamina than you know what to do with. content with fucking you until her muscles burn and you’re begging her that it’s too much, abby treats you like human exercise equipment. when she really needs long-term stress relief, she whispers in your ear, “lay down baby, you’re gonna be my workout buddy, yeah? g’na be my good girl and help me get bigger and stronger?”
she makes you count out how many strokes she gives you, holding you up and bouncing you on her fat dick with nothing else but the strength of her bulging, hard-working muscles supporting every pound of your weight, muttering something to herself about how this is better than getting on the bench, anyways. you’re surprised when you see her looking over her naked form in the mirror after a long “personal training” session, and she has an actual muscle pump.
after what feels like hours, you’re trying to catch your breath, looking and feeling a fucked out mess, when abby runs her hands back over your ass, kneading and gently ghosting over your ruined pussy with a finger. “got another set in you, i know you do.” and you barely have enough time to get back into position before your eyes are rolling back and she’s ripping a moan out of you, in plank position with her hands on either side of your head as she slides her cock head into your messy, torn-up twat.
...it’s going to be a long session.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
abby’s prized possession is a glittery blue strap-on, eight-and-a-half inches of pure problem, sourced from the ruins of a dilapidated strip mall the two of you stumbled across on patrol. she was a bit impartial to the idea, but figured that it would ease some of the stress off her achy wrists. quickly became hooked, wanting to use it every time you two fucked, and any chance she could crop up, nestling into you while you stood at the sink, hands in the dishes, her fingers getting lost under your bra, squishing a nipple as she sunk deeper inside. she loved how she could see you get more and more fucked out than you ever had off just her tongue alone, could grit her teeth as leather and rough fabric bit into her clit, could marvel in the mirror at the bulge it left when she stuffed it into her briefs before heading out for the day, straining against the grey cotton, altering the tempo of her walk, forcing her natural manspread just a little bit wider. could get a *great* core workout from pounding into your abused holes for hours.
abby is obsessed with strap sucking as foreplay, especially if you fix up those pretty, puffed-up lips with gloss or lipstick so that she can watch as sloppy rings form around the silicone. loves watching you make yourself messy with spit running down your chin as you mouth her strap through her cotton boxers. (loves SLOPPY top, like really throat it, gag, hit the back of your throat choking it down, slobber coating your fingers in messy globs. wants to see tears and snot and spit dribbling out of you from loving her cock the way only you know how.)
one night, you finally give her the green light to act out one of her biggest fantasies, letting her fuck your throat nice and deep, making you gag and drool every time she bottoms out, your domineering girlfriend reaching a hand to rub your clenching throat, whispering a mixture of sweet nothings and abject depravity that sends shockwaves to your clit and makes you ruin your panties.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
abby doesn’t consider herself a sadist but lets it be known that there’s no such thing as a free lunch. knows just when to switch off her puppy-dog girlfriend mode that just wants to make you feel good and turn on her wolf callousness, the cruelty that relishes torturing you. will let you be a brat and then edge you for days as punishment, watching you cry as her finger brushes over your exploited clitty, helpless but to let her go knuckle deep in your little hole and thrashing as she fucks you ever so slowly, savouring your pleas to have mercy. not super into the public sex thing, but will have you sit on her lap or her thigh in the cafeteria or in the common area at the stadium, grinding into your pussy and pretending like nothing is happening while you stifle your moans and your mind goes blank.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Abby is possessive DOWN and, therefore, loud as fuck when you two are at each other. tried to hold back her moans when y’all had first got together, now she’s an animal in the bedroom, groaning and panting in your ear turning into growls and near-inhuman whines and moans. a sucker for call-and-response, and will tease you over and over again until you say, ‘it’s your pussy, this is your pussy,’ in the way she likes it. wants people to walk past her room and know what’s going on, wants to claim you even when you’re not together, wants to make it known that you’re strictly off limits. her mouth gets filthier and more degrading when she’s far gone, and it’s not unlikely for her to growl out that you’re a bitch or a whore, and make you repeat it at the top of your lungs.
when she’s bottoming, it’s a whole different story, keening and moaning into your touch, stifling her whines by biting her lip, a habit that you hate. has pretty, subby moans that only get louder the closer she gets to orgasm. It's enough to ring in your ears and shake the wall; the sounds of her begging and crying can definitely be heard in the hallways and outside on the green, but when she’s close, chasing her peak and pleading to be let go, she doesn’t give a fuck. It’s obvious what it is, what’s going on, that it’s abby begging, “mommy– fuck, please let me get off please lemme fuckin’ cum, ineeditineeditireallyneedit.” it’s the sound that can be heard around the world, but she’s never been approached about it, and at this point she really dares someone to try.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
has a habit of slamming the headboard with her palm when she’s filling you rough and deep with her strap. she’d never turn her pent-up aggression on you, but it fires you up knowing that she’s on the verge of losing it. it makes you crazy, seeing her in her most primal form, bottled-up stress and anger spilling out of her, using your pussy the way she wants, how she thinks you deserve it. also a firm believer in sticking her thumb in your asshole while fucking you from behind.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
five feet and eleven inches of absolutely sculpted muscle. every single part of her looks custom made, every freckle painted on by hand, each scar webbing her skin a reminder of every time she made it back home. unshaven everywhere, her tummy and her legs and her underarms covered in dense, velvety swaths of hair, making her cuddly and soft like a pillow. the doughy fat of her small breasts pokes out over her impressive pectorals; the divot of her chest is covered in a heavy swath of freckles. deep pink, medium-sized nipples, slightly puffy and heavily sensitive. enjoys nipple play and breast stimulation as foreplay; likes having her breasts sucked on during sex. straight hips and thick thighs, deep scar on her left thigh from a raider ambush. has an outie pussy with fat outer lips, inner labia is dark pink and protrudes; the first thing to engorge when aroused. larger than average clit with high sensitivity. less sensitive to penetration, so she usually needs a lot of foreplay or dual stimulation to have a penetrative orgasm. curly blonde pubic hair around the perimeter of her vagina. firm ass, all muscle. brown splotch birthmark on her left asscheek. has an asshole, you know.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
abby prides herself on willpower and self-control, but when it comes to you, she burns hot. she wants her hands, tongue, fingers, everything on you or in you or grabbing anything she can touch. she had secret trysts, an assortment of sneaky links and fuckbuddies to scratch that itch deep inside, but she was c o n t r o l l e d by how much she desired you, how she fucks you like she needs you or else she’ll fucking die.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
such a cuddlebug. after it’s all said and done, expect abby to use the superior force of her body to roll you on top of her, lips full of praise and sweet kisses, and run hands through your hair and down your back until you fall asleep. watches you for a little while, taking in every peaceful, sweet feature on your face until that familiar warm pressure coats her skull and the pull of gravity plays against her eyes. she always goes to bed last, dutiful in making sure you're content, sated and happy, but on days where she doesn’t have to work she’s the last to wake up, a lump forming in her throat when you greet her with breakfast and coffee from the cafeteria, she laughs it off as soreness from sleeping under an open window.
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dragons-and-art · 5 months ago
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Do you like the color of bird?
As an experiment i decided to do a specie swap with the dragon bunch, as a design exercise to see what defines each of my goobers. I started by turning them all into draygon birds, somehow ending with several more species of fluffy cloud friends.
Honestly it is perfect, since i already had the idea of having my cloud draygons come in different colors, each fitting a shade of the sky. I ended with four subspecies, called Midnight Grey, Rose Morning, Midday Blue, and Golden Sunset.
Vinny and Vex get to be Midnight Greys, fitting to their dominant and sometimes misjudged personas. These draygons are known as the strongest yet most elegant of the four subspecies, with more tidy feathers that allow them to fly quietly through the night. These two specifically come in slightly different shades due to their parents being of different species, with Vex getting a redder hue and the usual bulky build of the breed, while Vinny retains the proper blueish shade but with an odd thinner frame.
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Nala gets to be the cutest thing alive by being a Rose Morning bird lass. Very active draygons, specifically in the morning. They are the smallest of the four, with short wings and stubbier bodies, but with the best control over their air magic, which allows them to lift off quickly and fly with surprising speed in short bursts.
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Drixie would be a MIdday Blue gal, the sea bird of the four breeds, with wings best designed to cut through the air and soar with little assistance of their air powers, making them extremely good at long flights, sometimes having enough endurance to fly across continents. Also to note, this breed is usually very tall and sharp, the second tallest in fact, but Drixie's short and round genes are strong lol
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And last but not least, Summer! Of course he gets some text <3
As a natural Golden Sunset cloud draygon, he's is one of tallest subspecies with his own height at 8'9", with strong wings to fly through the intense late afternoon winds, or sit still in the sky almost like a fluffy kite with the help of their elemental magic. Like their gray cousins, they were considered rare sights, as they used to keep themselves at a distance from the ground, some still preferring to live and roost in mountain peaks and far away islands. But in modern times you have odd ducklings like Summer who enjoy a life near the ground.
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licensed2faint · 2 months ago
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I said like forever ago that I would make tier list for dragon types, and I've finally gone and done it. Big thanks to @veterantrainerray for suggesting I do this like a month ago.
These lists are directed at newbie trainers, specifically younger trainers. If you're thirty-two and have a twenty acre property and all the time in the world to read up on the care and training of a Salamence, go for it. I'm not your dad.
I've ONLY added Pokemon I have personally trained, so I can try to explain each list. I made two lists, one for captive-bred 'mon and one for wild-caught. Captive-bred pokemon tend to be hardier and less temperamental, so the list is a bit different. ALSO, while I used the final forms, this list is assuming you got them in their first form. I do not recommend trying to train a fully-grown wild Salamence. For any reason. That's a catch-and-release beastie.
honourable mention: Gyarados. Not a dragon-type, but temperamental as one. My recommendation is that this is a very strong guy who (probably) loves you very much for taking care of him when he was weak, and also he hates everyone else. Train him to wait for your command, and also socialize him while he's still a Magikarp to avoid the 'us vs. them' mindset as much as you can.
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First up, the 'domestic-bred dragon list!'
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Explanation:
Acceptable Starter: Swablu and Dratini are not very aggressive pokemon, and domestic-bred ones are usually much hardier than their wild counterparts. Dratini are a little more intelligent, and thus easier to train, but a domestic Swablu is pretty intelligent itself. Neither of them evolves into a pokemon known for aggression, so I think overall they're pretty well-suited travelling companions.
Fine with experience: Horsea is Horsea. You know him, you love him. Domestic ones, are, again, hardier than than their wild counterparts.. Honestly, the reason I have them here rather than 'acceptable starter' is because of Seadra. All the good breeding in the world can't guarantee a calm Seadra. You have to make sure your Horsea is well-trained BEFORE it evolves. But if it is? Your Kingdra is gonna be a breeze. Way more chill than Seadra, if not a bit snooty.
Druddigon get a bad rap, which is unfortunate. I love them. Might be my favourite dragon type. Domestic breeds are hard to come by, since they're not very popular, but the ones I've met are wonderful. They enjoy sunbathing a lot. The reason I put them here is actually because they tend to be stubborn. And while it takes a lot (compared to other dragon types, NOT most pokemon) to get them irritated, they CAN AND WILL use their strength to solve a problem. So the difficulty lies in getting them motivated enough to train them well. But if you're just looking for a guy who sits out in your yard sunbathing and looking scary, maybe give a breeder a call...? (you should still train them not to attack without a command, though!)
Flygon is actually usually really sweet-tempered. The reason he's so low is actually because of Trapinch and Vibrava! Trapinch, even domestically bred ones, are not all that intelligent, and thus hard to train for people who don't know what they're doing. The digging instinct can be very, very difficult to train out. They're hard-wired for it, it's how they survive in the wild! Vibrava are much more intelligent, but when they first evolve, there WILL be accidents with the wings. They're still figuring things out. Give 'em time, teach them to only do that stuff outdoors, etc etc. But if you can get through that, Flygon are wonderful companions! Every now and again in Hoenn you'd find a family with a pet Flygon instead of the typical Skitty or Poochyena. Love em.
Might need outside help: Domestic Gibble tend to be much less wantonly destructive than wild-caught, since having that bred out of them was a big goal of the original breeding programs in the first place. That said, instinct is instinct. If you aren't giving them their proper exercise every day and making sure to train them, they are going to wreak havoc. You need to be paying attention to it at all times. They're also pretty curious lil' guys! This means they will see something neat, like a fire hydrant, go 'hey, what's that?' and then answer that question by destroying it. They tend to get labeled 'aggressive' which is. Well it's not really true, but the difference between 'playtime' and 'this little guy hates you' doesn't matter so much when you're human and a Gibble is chasing you, open-mouthed. Domestic Gabite are much more calm on that front, and fully-trained, domestic Garchomp tend to be remarkable bastions of self-control. Again, it's all about surviving and training that first stage.
Pros Only: Both of these guys are here for similar reasons: Their instinct in their final evolutions has a tendency to override their training, so you're gonna have to not only have a firmer hand then a lot of trainers are comfortable with, but train them pretty continuously throughout their lives. They're fiercely independent, so forming a bond based on respect very early on in their lives is direly important. Otherwise you ain't getting them to do anything for you. Thankfully, at the very least the domestic breeds tend to not be too violent/destructive.
Salamence has an added difficulty: most people don't train their Bagon or Shelgon correctly. Bagon is one of the most easygoing dragon types out there, and Shelgon have a tendency to be pretty placid. This leads to trainers not taking their training too seriously early on, which leads to disastrous consequences once they're fully evolved. Just because your Bagon listens to you doesn't mean your Salamence will. Practice your recall training. Or Else.
You put that thing back where it came from or so help me: Hydregion is smarter than you. You may be able to train a Deino. I don't know you. They're bitey, but not the worst out there. But you do NOT have the resources or the know-how to handle a Zweilous. Straight-up. They have high energy levels, need a LOT of food, and can and WILL injure themselves via infighting. There's a reason Hydregion is rare as hell, and it's because a lot of them don't make it to adulthood due to injuries. It's a survival of the fittest tactic. I love Hydregion. I have one. If you don't have a damn mountain range in your backyard, don't get one. They NEED a place to go off and be destructive, and they're territorial as all hell. Just don't. Please.
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Next up, the Wild-Caught List!
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As you can see, there's nothing on the acceptable starter list. I'll get into why in the next categories.
Fine with experience: You're looking at basically the same thing with the wild Kingdra line as you would be with a domestic breed, with one notable difference: Wild Horsea tend to be a lot less hardy and a lot more timid. It'll take it longer to start trusting you, but honestly just doing the upkeep to keep it happy and healthy should start winning it over. They're more intelligent than most people give 'em credit for. Your eventual Kingdra is probably also gonna be more headstrong, but honestly for some trainers, that's a good thing.
Dratini suffers from the same problem. They have pretty specific habitat needs- but if you're at the point in your journey where you get your hands on a wild Dratini, honestly I'd trust that you're able to provide what it needs. Bonus, though, is that while wild Dratini can be cautious, they're very curious, too! And if your vibes are good (lookin at you, Ray!) they're usually more than happy to come along with you. And as our dear friend Ray is learning, one that is eager to battle is a ready and willing student! There's a reason they have such a great reputation.
Might need outside help: Wild Druddigon tend to be pretty territorial, on top of all the stubbornness. They're usually also a bit more proactive in expressing the classic dragon type temperament. You're looking at more intensive training to get recalling down and increase their tolerance for being bothered. No shame in asking a dragon-type expert. That said, I still love these guys. If you can read their body language, you could probably get through a cave of them no problem.
Oh, Swablu. Swablu, what will we do with you? Wild Swablu are flighty little critters, and kind of frail, to boot. And wild Alteria are stubborn. They will not get dirty. They think they are better than you. This isn't to say they're awful! An Alteria is usually pretty affectionate with its trainer, wild or domestic. A properly-trained one isn't going to be raging any more than a Dragonite or a Kingdra. But trying to train a Swablu is harder than it seems, just because they're not great listeners. If You've got patience and a guide, you're fine, but really I'd suggest asking an expert.
I don't know how to say this without sounding mean. Please understand I've raised five Trapinch. They are. Difficult. and a little stupid. Wild ones especially don't really have any sort of grasp on the world of training. You are looking at one hell of an uphill battle. But they're kind of a rite of passage for Hoennian trainers, and if they can do it, you can too! Really, you're going to be doing most of the 'basic training' for these guys in the Vibrava stage. You should still be taking the time to get your Trapinch used to being balled and the sound of your voice, obviously, but the traditional way to train a Trapinch is to do double battles until it evolves. Then do a lot of the indoor-outdoor distinction, once it can understand what a building is. And if you can deal with a Trapinch, you can deal with a Flygon. They're pretty relaxed, especially for a dragon type.
Pros Only: You don't have the patience for a wild Gibble, and you almost certainly aren't capable of tying down The King of the Caves when he wants to rampage. That said, if you do manage to train one right, and you've got a firm hand an a certain kind of attitude, you've got a partner for life. A wild Garchomp's respect is a tough thing to earn, but it's worth it. I was debating putting him on the final tier, but honestly... if you're really, really dedicated it's certainly possible. But you NEED to get in contact with somebody who knows what they're doing. Trying to freehand training is going to get your arm torn off.
Honestly, with Salamence, you're looking at about the same issues as you would be with a domestic, with two exceptions: your Bagon's gonna be a bit more of a wild child (but still nothing crazy) and your Salamence is gonna be aggressive. No way around it. Keeping it trained is a full-time job. If you're not looking to make a trained team of six and would rather just focus on a few, then you might have the time to dedicate to making sure the training sticks. Otherwise, leave it.
You put that thing back where it came from or so help me: Look at me. Look at me. Do not go near a wild Hydregion. Do not attempt to steal a Hydregion's baby. You will die, and it will hurt the whole time you are dying. And then that beast is going to start rampaging, and if there's a human settlement on or even near its territory, they are going to pay the price for your stupidity. Then they'll call the rangers in, and IF they can subdue the Hydregion, they're not going to be able to release it, because Hydregion can always find their way back home. They'll have to put it down. Don't fucking do it.
You can probably keep and train a wild Axew. Just make sure it has an everstone, because you are in no way, shape, or form prepared for a wild Haxorous. See the above, minus the rampaging parts. They're usually content with just you and anybody in a direct line-of-sight. If you train it well, it'll probably just run off into the hills instead of attacking you, at least. They've got really powerful instincts, and need things most people can't provide. 'Oh but Laser, don't you have a wild-caught Haxorous?' I do and I also have an entire nature preserve, complete with mountain range. He loves me, in his own way. I know this because he is willing to wait for food and not attack everything in his territory. I can go into his territory without being instantly vaporized, and he's willing to come out of his territory and interact with me. This does not mean he is safe to be around. It only means that I have twenty years of experience. If you want one, get a domestic breed. There's plenty of Axew breeders all over Unova.
~~~
I hope this was informative! Please remember that pokemon are individuals, and not all of them will conform to what I've laid out here. Please also remember that your life is not worth the possibility that you could get that one in a billion, super nice Hydregion. Dragon types have their reputation for good reason, and I simply can't stress enough that you need to do a lot of research before owning any of them.
Good luck!
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zooophagous · 26 days ago
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had a super similar issue with some ex roommates and their intact male dog. I kept telling them to get him fixed because everytime i would go downstairs the whole place reeked of piss because he would make everything, they literally had to throw uot a couch because it was so horrifically smelly from him pissing on it.
they would cry about how "oh but i dont want him to get fat cause hes fixed!" like bitch maybe if you exercised him that wouldn't be an issue.
owners of intact male animals in general are the worst
The worst part about that is that you can generally curtail an intact dogs marking with either training or tools (like belly bands for when the dog is inside) so your crap roommate just wasn't willing to do anything at all to mitigate, eugh.
I will say though, of my two dogs the neutered one actually has worse bathroom habits than the intact one, but that may be a breed specific trait. The intact one comes from a breed that's known to be very clean and easy to housebreak.
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sagistrology · 2 months ago
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id love to see your interpretation on pluto conjunct ascendant, or virgo venus! i find these placements fascinating.
pluto conjunct ascendant 
♇ a conjunction implies a tight orb (8° or less), creating a direct impact on the ascendant while furthering the qualities of the respective sign. here, it affects one's identity, how one responds to their environment, the 'self', and their physical appearance - in connection to pluto.
♇ this aspect is incisive, intense, and amplifies whichever sign pluto's in - sometimes leading to an obsession with what they identify with, as well as providing a breeding ground for 'negative' traits if not handled carefully.
♇ for a lack of better word, these 'shadow' / unhealed aspects may include repressed trauma, destructive tendencies, secretiveness, the desire to dominate, control, manipulate etc. (doesn't exclude these same tactics being used or inflicted on them).
♇ there's a need to learn how to alchemize their pain in order to allow transformation to be beneficial rather than destructive. this aspect tends to dominate the majority of other placements, esp. since the ascendant is what we relate to, and portray. intense and challenging, yet highly rewarding.
♇ strong sense of purpose – craving to be consumed by meaning. ambitious, meticulous in their approaches, deeply analytical, seeing through other’s behaviours. (benefit from exercising).
♇ fully immersed or disinterested. this applies to humans, causes, ambitions, you name it. once committed to either, they become enduring and sacrificial. being driven by something that gets them involved mentally and emotionally is essential.
♇ knowing how to cater to people’s egos because they had to read their desires in order to be tolerated at some point lol, think of the seven deadly sins; greed, wrath, sloth, envy, lust, gluttony, and pride. seeing behind these facades - and those aspects in themselves, has them in tune with human desires and the most vile manifestations of it.
♇ depending on how pluto’s aspected there’s even more nuance to it, which can’t be generalised. (e.g. pluto in 12h conjunct ascendant)
♇ ‘darkened’ appearance, more so in their essence rather than features alone, naturally demanding attention upon entering a space, observant, psychologically-inclined, often drawn to heavier subjects and taboo conversations.
♇ deeply connected to the cyclical nature of death and rebirth – knowing how to ‘play’ a character, as well as being aware of its impact. tend to go through changes in their appearance, often rapidly (mesmerizing eyes).
♇ magnetic but intimidating to most, attracting jealousy that’s often hidden because few dare to confront them (eyes are on them - even in times of isolation).
♇ secret admiration, being studied carefully, sometimes obsessively - desired by many and known by few.
♇ immensely projected upon, tending to attract people that want to benefit off their innate influence, the energy of relevancy and ‘power’ – also, being assigned a higher tolerance for pain and harshness, however, almost demonized once defending themselves.
♇ if you want to buy them something get it engraved with a personal message or specific reference, i'm thinking lighters, rings, knives, lockets etc. (sth. resilient they will treasure).
*these observations are general and don't cover all aspects. let me know if you have specific questions.
virgo venus
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♍︎ by being opposite of pisces (where venus is exalted), venus in virgo is considered in its fall, which can present as less rewarding or harmonious. it becomes a beautiful placement once understood.
♍︎ venus (also) deals with money and its accumulation. in virgo, wealth is accumulated through consistency and endurance - mostly benefiting from savings and investments. however, there's a tendency for their efforts to go uncompensated. verbal praise and validation ≠ financial compensation.
♍︎ very modest in their expectations and often too shy to ask for a raise = ending up receiving less than adequate compensation for their efforts and expertise, which often exceed the requirements but become the norm. (you don’t owe a company free labour)
♍︎ sometimes, it can be hard for them to distinguish between 'helping' and overextending themselves beyond their emotional, physical, and mental capacities - with venus, this can be emphasized as one partner (virgo) being on the 'giving', and their partner on the 'receiving' end.
♍︎ they may develop an expectation of having to earn compassion and attention (conditional love). 'overcoming' the fixation on providing and learning to receive can be very healing.
♍︎ experimental yet sophisticated (also with clothing), detail-oriented. extremely critical, scrutinizing their discipline and behaviour. value high quality products.
♍︎ appear effortlessly beautiful, which isn't to devalue this aspect, but rather emphasize the time, effort, and dedication that goes into maintaining a certain appearance and health. e.g. through exercise, meditation, nutrition, supplements, consumption habits etc. no detail is 'coincidental', even if it looks like it, it was most likely calculated.
♍︎ crave mental and physical stimulation in romantic relationships, sensual (earth) and analytical (mercury); love to please and see the effects of having 'done well'. write beautiful letters.
♍︎ obsessed with cleanliness. tend to serve when committed, often aren't used to being considered. seeking stability and healthy / productive routines.
♍︎ would probably cry if they received a thoughtful gift that shows you've taken the time to analyse and do something for them unprovoked. truly one of the sweetest things you can do. they tend to be strict on themselves, try to show them they are more than deserving of your love.
*these observations are general and do not cover all details or aspects venus is associated with. for more precise interpretations consider your personal placements.
thank you for your request!
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desultory-novice · 10 months ago
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White-Haired Noir (Older)
I wasn't kidding when I said Noir has become more of "my OC" than before. Anyway, they tell me cringe is dead, so let's get on with it!
BE HAPPY TEENAGE BOY ...Uh... ADULT MALE??!
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(Pictured: Would you believe this guy was once my Dark Matter Swordsman???)
No longer a teary-eyed apprentice, White-Haired Noir in ~the future~ (circa Star Allies??) has become a knight in his own right, swearing his service to Dedede as thanks for helping house the bruised, battered, emotionally unstable teen boy so many years ago.
Dedede Stop Adopting People Challenge (impossible)
Over the years (and with plenty of hard hitting, gloves-off training from Meta Knight) Noir has both grown up and grown accustomed to life on Popstar. He's regained some semblance of a life (gasp!) and inner peace. (...When Popstar's not being invaded, that is.)
He has friends (and rivals), is able to stomach food and drink a bit better, and has accepted Gooey, finally. He can even speak positively of his lost childhood with his little sister, on occasion.
Despite Popstar's generally warm weather, the Shiver Star native continues to dress in highly concealing fashion, as his upper body still bears the scars of his interrupted Dark Matter transformation; one reason he grew his hair out long was to help conceal the ones on his neck better, so as not to frighten the younger Waddle Dees.
[Assorted Text Wall Below]
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Age Range: Mid 20s and up (Tbh, his specific age'll probably fluctuate depending upon the kind of story I want to tell. This is, quite simply, an adult Noir who's got his life more together.)
Abilities: Mild regenerative abilities, magic reflection, healing/purification, light projection [Rainbow Sword] 
Protective magic and various physical ability-boosting magic [These come courtesy of the crystals adorning his jacket, a gift from the Queen of the Fairies. Noir is still a squishy human, after all. His fine swordplay aside, he needs magical enhancements to not get accidentally steamrolled by Kirby's other friends.]
Hobbies: swordplay, stargazing, crochet (Taranza taught him the last one, both as a mental grounding exercise and to help rehabilitate Noir's Dark Matter corrupted hands for performing delicate tasks. Half of Dream Land has one of Noir's early crochet octopi sitting in their storage. Nowadays, he makes toys for the younger Dees.)
Etc: Because of his closeness with King Dedede (and in large part due to their matching scarves/sashes), his general protectiveness of the Waddle Dees, as well as his fairy-tale outfit (which Ribbon helped with) Noir has picked up nickname of the "Prince of Dream Land"
A highly unfitting one, Noir has been heard to privately complain. In what world could an unwashed, damaged, sharp-tongued orphan with hands near-literally dyed in blood become a prince...?
Height-wise, if we consider King Dedede to be one of a breed of extinct "mega penguins" then Noir, fully grown, is of comparable height. (Dedede insists he's taller because of this crown puff. Huzzah! His title as king is safe!) In human terms, this does make Noir a short king :cough: prince, which in his case is due to malnourishment, physical abuse during puberty, and just plain genetics. ^^;
Anyway, despite how shockingly decent he looks cleaned up, Noir is still a feral cat at heart, and he hasn't lost his sass either, even if the edges have been somewhat filed off with time.
(Even the most angsty and tragic of emo boys can only go so many years with sparkly, shimmering, pastel rainbow hair (1) before they give up the act and start smiling ju~st a little more! ^_-)
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(1) It is completely impossible for Noir to return his hair to its original dark maroon/black, btw. Even the strongest dye refuses to stick.
...And yes, he has attempted.
--
(Q: When is this...? Cause he still looked 16 in that FL comic you did.) (A: That's because I hadn't thought ahead when I wrote it! This form is basically meant as something to pull out for the later games with some extra padding for any future games/events. >w< )
(Q: So... is that FL comic still Apologies canon?) (A: ~ish! He would definitely be his older self now. That said, this Noir did still encounter Elfilin by chance, immediately recognized him as ID-F86, and had a PTSD episode over it, dredging up old memories he'd believed he had come to peace with. It was the closest the Dark Matter in Noir had come to re-awakening in years. Elfilin's sincere apology to the innocent victims of Forgo's rage helped Noir keep from losing himself completely and he was able to recover.
Also, following Crystal Shards, Noir DID resume having daily nightmares about Adeleine and her fate. That was why MK encouraged him to stay with the fairies of Ripple Star for a time and recuperate; that Noir could resume his training with Meta Knight later on. The grateful fairies all turned out to completely ADORE him - particularly, his shining rainbow hair. This period away from Popstar meant that he totally missed out on Amazing Mirror though.)
(Q: If he missed Amazing Mirror, what games DIDN'T he miss?) (A: He was actually there for a somewhat altered version of Meta Knightmare Ultra in Planet Robobot! It was his first "mission" with his teacher. (And I have a fanfic brewing about that, thanks to the anon who asked what if Noir got within wishing distance of Star Dream...)
Unlike Meta's relationship with Kirby, where Meta trusts Kirby to bounce back from everything and is excited :wipes drool off face: to see how much Kirby will grow, Meta Knight tries (somewhat) to keep his very human disciple out of danger, if he can. He's not soft on him by any means, with hard blows and even harder life lessons, but he knows that Noir came to them hanging onto life by a very frayed thread and he only pushes as far as he believes Noir can take.
Nowadays, he's much more trusting of him to handle himself.
(Q: Assuming he was in SA, where was he during TDX, RtDL, and FL? (A: In both Triple Deluxe and Forgotten Land, he was away from Popstar. Record of Stopping Dedede Abductions: 0/2. He rolled his eyes at a giant beanstalk erupting from Dream Land leading to a kingdom in the clouds "...You're kidding?" and Dedede was stomping mad when Noir laughed outloud about the story of the abduction - which concealed the fact that Meta Knight WAS LAUGHING TOO.
In Return to Dream Land, Noir was still on Popstar but didn't participate in the adventure in any capacity. When everyone returned and told the tale of Magolor's betrayal, his response was a deadpan, "Okay but you all saw that coming a mile away though, right? .........Tell me you saw that coming." He was a little less sassy when he heard Magolor's downfall came at the hands of a corrupting artifact.)
(Q: Wasn't Noir taller than Dedede in that one random sketch?) (A: As an Earth human. Noir eventually became Popstarian size.)
(Q: It's nice that he's okay but... but Adeleine... ; _ ; ) (A: Yeah... However, similar to Blade and Gooey in the main verse, in the AU AU, it was Painter who took care of and sheltered the Dark Matter outcast. Noir initially hated Gooey, because he despised Dark Matter for destroying his family and he hated it every time Gooey tried to approach him - like a sign that he would never escape his mistakes. Only later was he forced to confront Gooey and realize that Gooey was always seeking Noir out because of Adeleine's memories Gooey had taken in. They eventually had a painful heart to heart, where Noir was able to experience his sister's last memories through Gooey. Noir now lets him wear Painter's beret in memory of her.)
--
Anyway, that's now two (and a half (?) if you count "Snowflakes") Noirs who have escaped the cycle of misery! Hooray!
Don't worry, Main Timeline Noir, your salvation comes next............Probably???? >w<
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carnivorousyandeere · 1 year ago
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Alright more thoughts— specifically about Marcus with afab Darling and kegel balls. Please heed the warnings, this one’s fucked up
More Unethical Pelvic Floor Therapy with Marcus
( MDNI, No Age in Bio DNI )
CW: abuse of power, gaslighting, unethical medicine, intentional bad medical advice (leaving kegel balls in for extended periods can actually fatigue your muscles and damage them; any company suggesting you do this instead of actual exercises is working from pseudoscience. If it’s your kink to leave ‘em in a long time go ham or whatever… just know the risks), smut, dubcon, overstimulation, painful fingering, painful sex, mating press but no talk of actual breeding
Info: gn afab reader
Your physical therapists had recommended you start using kegel balls— “it’ll help with your mood and disgestion!” Said one. “It’s a great workout, helps keep you healthy,” nodded the second. The last insinuated it would improve your sex life— as if you’d had sex with anyone but the three of them since you started visiting their office.
None of them had really explained how you were supposed to use them, so you figured your best bet would be to ask Marcus. The other two would insist on “showing you how to use them,” and you’d just end up fucked out in one of their offices again. When you asked, he just laughed a little and pushed up his glasses, typing away at his computer and not sparing a glance, as if you should already know the answer.
“You lube it up, with as little lube as possible, and slide it into the vaginal canal. Then, it should rest rather comfortably near your cervix, much as a tampon might. After that, you just let it stay there for a few hours while you go about your day. Your pelvic floor muscles will contract as you go about your day.”
“Oh…” you feel your face burning. “Is that… it, then?”
“Mm?” Marcus finally glances up at you. “Yeah? You shouldn’t keep them in for longer than eight hours at a time. And if you think the ones we’ll be sending you home with are too big, or you experience any pain or unusual discharge, come back in right away.”
~~~
You made it a few days. The feeling was strange, though not unpleasant— at first. You could feel it inside you as you walked around, though if you ignored it the feeling began to fade. You did notice yourself squirming a bit more, finding it harder to get comfortable. You felt… full in a way you hadn’t before. Eating and drinking made the pressure in your gut all the more noticeable. You tried not to think about it too much, and took it out at the end of your day as instructed, even though the lack of a string to pull it by was a little difficult.
The second day, you had a little trouble inserting the ball, though not too much. You did notice a small ache as the day wore on, and that your underwear felt a little more… wet than usual. At the end of the day, though, you were able to take the ball out and relax.
You woke up hot and wet the third day. You felt a little tight, but the ball slipped in without much trouble. You couldn’t focus on anything, though. Your abdomen felt so tight and hot. You feared you might leak through your underwear, and had to come home early to try and compose yourself. But try as you might when you got home, you couldn’t get the kegel ball out. You’d gotten too tight, painfully so. Embarrassed and needier than you could remember being in a long while, you pulled your clothes back up and make your way to the clinic for Marcus’ help.
~~~
It doesn’t take him long to figure out what’s going on between your panicked expression and the sweat beading at your temples, even as you struggle to tell him what’s wrong. Marcus coaxes you to undress. You lay back on an exam table, and Marcus quickly dawns a sterile mask and a pair of gloves, spreading lube over his gloved fingers. You hiss and flinch away when his fingers ghost over your clit. You see Marcus’ glimmering eyes narrow over his mask.
“You kept that damn thing in for hours a day, didn’t you?”
“Y-yes, you… told me to…”
Marcus’ eyebrows shoot up. “There’s no way… that’s far too long… your poor muscles must be so fatigued.”
He slides a finger inside you, eyebrows raising even a bit further when the tip of his finger meets the kegel ball still lodged inside you. “You couldn’t even get it out again… poor baby.”
He ignores your pained whines as he slides his finger in and out, adding a bit more lube to ease you. He doesn’t want to permanently injure you, after all… You tense and tear up as a second finger begins to slide in. Marcus shushes you, holding your hip with his other hand and brushing his thumb over the skin.
“You’ll be alright, we’ve just gotta open you up enough to pull it out.” He scissors his fingers gently, working you open. His eyes rove hungrily over your form, following the tears that drip from your eyes and devouring your pained expression like it’s a fine dessert. His pants feel much too tight.
Eventually, Marcus is able to grab the small ball and gently wiggle it free. You let out a sigh of relief and slump against the table when his hands leave you, and the ball thumps onto the table then clatters away onto the floor, forgotten as Marcus’ hands come back to spread you open to get a good look. Your folds are wet and puffy, much more than from the lube. Marcus twitches in his pants, fighting back a groan.
You tense again, wet eyes darting to him in surprise when you feel his finger testing your entrance again. “M-Marcus, please, it’s too—“
“Sore?” He interrupts. “Yeah, that’s what happens when you don’t listen to me. And if I don’t massage out these muscles now, it’s only gonna feel worse on down the line.”
You whine, turning your face to the side as Marcus slides that finger deeper inside and slides his mask down with his other hand. He kisses your cheek, tasting the tear tracks there. You shut your eyes and nod. It’s all you can do.
Your muscles are just too tight, clenching painfully around around his thick fingers as he works them inside. He spreads you apart a little bit more, keeping up the pretense of helping to relieve the ache in your core, before his fingers find that sensitive spot inside you. You jolt at the feeling, a lightning bolt of strained pleasure that has you gritting your teeth through the stars in your vision.
Marcus shushes you as you pant and groan at the strange feeling building in your gut, his fingers working that spot ever more harshly. He reassures you that everything’s going to be okay. He kisses your cheek, your forehead, strokes your hip with his free hand. It’s the most painful orgasm you’ve ever felt, but the relief that follows as you gush around his fingers is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. You go boneless against the exam table, covering your face and willing your heart to calm down.
Marcus’ fingers still, but only for a moment. He curls them again right before you can catch your breath.
“M-Marcus, no, it hurts, I can’t-”
He curls his fingers harder, breathing in your pained whine as his lips ghost over yours.
“I’ll help you feel better, but you need to relax.”
“I can’t,” you sob.
“You can,” he insists. “Be good and let me help you.”
You sob harder, finding yourself nodding again, relinquishing control over yourself as you let him work you over on his fingers again and again. You feel so tired, so achy, the burning pleasure rubbing your nerves raw like sandpaper.
Marcus relishes in your cries, making you cum twice, then thrice, before losing patience and slipping his scrubs down to rub his cock against you. You jolt and cry out even louder as his tip brushes over your clit. Marcus bites his lip, fighting back a groan at the sight. You look so pretty, tear-stained and incoherent.
He can’t help running his hands up the backs of your thighs, slick with sweat, and pressing them firmly against your chest as he slides in. Marcus stays still for a moment, savoring how hot and wet you are. You’re so tight that every twitch of him inside you makes you gasp with the discomfort. He knows you’re only going to be more sore in the morning. The thought of taking care of you, so weak and helpless, only makes him twitch even harder, moaning against the shell of your ear.
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schafpudel · 2 years ago
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What Kind of Duck, is Duck?
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OK. So first, let's get this out of the way:
Duck is not real. Duck is, first and foremost, the vague idea of a duck. Duck... is not strongly based on the reality of ducks as an animal.
She is extremely stylized, a blobby little chibi-mascot in a world of anime humans and realistically rendered animals and animal-people. She has contradictory traits - the yellow coloration of a duckling, on the functional flight feathers of a bird that's entered its adult plumage. Her thoughts and actions are noticeably less bestial than those of Mr. Cat or any of the talking-animal students, not beholden to instincts.
When asking what kind of duck our friend Duck is, we must first admit to ourselves that this is a silly question. Ducks like Duck do not exist. She has little candy-cane legs, for god's sake. God bless her.
(If we want to get real meta, perhaps we could speculate that she isn't a real duck because she is a story-duck: escaped from her narrative like the prince and the raven, and the wilis maiden, and the ghost knight, oblivious to her origins. It would, if nothing else, provide a fun watsonian explanation for some of her oddities.)
But fandom is all about getting fucking silly with it, and building elaborate though exercises about shit the creators didn't think about. And I'm an animal nerd. So this is how I choose to have fun. Let's go.
Analysis of the Birb
Duck can be safely assumed to be a Anas platyrhynchos domesticus, or domestic mallard, as this is the typical barnyard duck throughout Asia, Europe, and... really almost the entire world. I say she must be a domestic mallard, and not wild, for one simple reason:
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On the left is the typical appearance wild mallard duckling. On the right are various domesticated ducklings. That's right; the solid yellow color we associate with baby ducks? Specific to domesticated ones! Solid yellow is a sign a duckling will grow up to be a white duck; ducklings that grow up to be other colors have darker fluff mixed in.
(That's right. She'll have white plumage like a swan...)
Many white ducks have orange bills, legs, and feet; other white ducks, especially as ducklings, have orange legs and pink bills. Duck's bill is far more pinkish than her feet, but it's still noticeably orange-y, putting her in sort of a middle area. (By the way, have you ever noticed that Duck's hair color as a girl is the same as her bill color as a duck?)
If she's intended to be anything in particular (which I doubt she is), it might be the German Peking - native to the area, and the creamy-yellow tinged adult plumage of the German Peking compared to other white ducks seems to be reflected by the tint of the duck-feather quill Autor provides as a substitute for Drosselmeyer's swan-feather quill.
However, let me provide my personal baseless headcanon.
Come and see the humble Call Duck
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The Call Duck is a Dutch breed, speculated to be descended from a variety of duck imported to the Netherlands from Japan. Call ducks are a smaller-than-average breed, with a note-worthily "cute" appearance compared to other ducks, even as adults: large forehead, round cheeks, short bill. They're also noteworthy for being sociable and friendly with their human keepers, making them great pets compared to other ducks... as well as very, very noisy and talkative.
(Nobody's perfect.)
There's also a certain... symbolism, I think, to the Call as a breed.
Call ducks are friendly and talkative because they were bred not for eggs, or for meat, but for hunting. Not that they themselves hunted! But their innocent, friendly talkativeness, their cheerful noisy voices, were shaped as a siren song to lure wild ducks into funnel traps. Unwittingly bringing the demise of its own kind, the Call duck's sweetness is exploited by hunters to draws other ducks to their doom.
Duck is kind, and sweet, and wants to be friends with people, and wants to help them. She saw the Prince on the lake, like a wild swan, and wanted to help him in any way she could.
In Drosselmeyer's eyes, this made her the perfect person to become Princess Tutu, to set the story back in motion... and through that friendly kindness, send every "character "in the Story to their doom.
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imtrashraccoon · 8 months ago
Note
here’s a drabble idea!
Nightmare sans x dog monster! reader
so the premise is that the dear reader is a dog like doggo, greater dog, lesser dog, etc
and if we want to get REAL specific the dog breed reader is a konoki dog!
Hi! Thank you for submitting this idea!
I was shocked how quickly I managed to think of something for this prompt. I hope you don't mind that I made it a fantasy and soulmate au. I actually haven't written this sort of thing before and I am still buzzing with ideas.
I never heard of a Konoki dog before this and they look super cute! I haven't written this type of character before so I hope you like them. I certainly have fallen in love with them! (I affectionately call them Koko in my notes!)
By the way, I renamed Nightmare (and a few others!) for this to make him a more unique character. There's a note at the bottom for the meanings of their names too.
The Dark Fortress
Nightmare x Kokoni!Dog Monster Reader
Fantasy & Soulmate AU
Word Count: 6, 219
You woke up to the sound of rain softly pattering on your tent. The light was rather dim so you estimated the sun wasn't up just yet. Still, it couldn't hurt to get up and do some quick exercises before your day properly started.
The rain made the air smell good - slightly earthy with a hint of the harsher scent of ozone. The only bad thing was that you didn't like having wet fur, especially when on a mission, since it stuck to your armour and meant your weapon was harder to hang onto.
The scent in the air reminded you of a reoccurring dream that you'd been having your whole life. While the circumstances were different each time, there was always a distinctive smell present. It was earthy and sweet with aromatic undertones similar to liquorice or fennel. It was also slightly spicy or maybe salty was a better description? This smell seemed to belong to someone but you'd never been able to see what they looked like.
Not everyone believed in the concept of soulmates but you couldn't find any other explanation for why you kept dreaming about this one smell. There were instances where a few dogs had been plagued by a particular smell and then ended up finding their soulmate, but this was always in real life and never only in a dream.
With a sigh, you meticulously fastened the straps and buckles that held your armour together. While many of your fellow soldiers preferred full plate, you liked the mobility that light armour provided. This combined with your smaller size and slight frame made you the perfect scout or assassin for the Royal Guard.
You didn't have time this morning to contemplate the possibility of meeting your soulmate. You had a duty to perform and any distractions could put the lives of both you and your comrades in danger.
Your mission was to investigate the dark fortress that had appeared overnight a few months ago in the neighboring Kingdom of Shiftingtails. The kingdom's forces had apparently been completely overrun and destroyed in a matter of days. Word on the conditions inside the country had been scarce but the handful of refugees that had made it out all told harrowing tales of their escape.
Whatever magic that had created the fortress was dangerous. It corrupted the land, killing both plants and animals alike, so that nothing could survive. It was said that it could kill people as well but no one knew exactly how. There were also accounts of the dark horde and their master but no one could decide on what they looked like.
Some claimed that an army of the dead suddenly came to life and raided their homes. Others claimed there were only three skeletons responsible for the destruction. Yet there were other accounts of a single skeleton covered in the dark fortress' corruption with black tendrils. No one wanted to talk about this one any more than they had to though.
You hadn't known what to make of the accounts at first, but the deeper you and your comrades pressed into enemy territory, the more truth they seemed to hold. Thankfully, the Royal Scientist had found a way to counteract the majority of the corruption's effects, so as long as the protective coating on your armour remained intact, you would be safe.
It didn't ease your anxiety though and you knew that your comrades were also suffering from restlessness. It had been days since you had even been in combat, even longer since killing anything, and you just wanted to get this over with.
You weren't particularly bloodthirsty but even you had to admit that you secretly enjoyed the rush that came whenever a person died by your hand. It wasn't something that you went out of your way to do, even though being a soldier often put you in those situations. Everyone knew that while sometimes unavoidable, gaining EXP and especially LV, was a slippery slope to insanity. And so during basic training, it was stressed that it was preferable to incapacitate your foes and only kill as a last resort.
You emerged from your tent and stretched your limbs. It seemed like a few of your fellow soldiers were already up and about, which meant another day of marching was upon you. At least you were within sight of the dark fortress now. It wouldn't be long before you would be able to hear the satisfying sound of your meteor hammer crushing bones and inhale the scent of fresh blood again.
~ ~ /⁠ᐠ⁠。⁠ꞈ⁠。⁠ᐟ⁠\ ~ ~
Breaching the gate had been difficult but not impossible.
There had been a small horde of tall black skeletons but against the heavily armoured likes of your fellow guardsmen, they were soon cut down. While the skeletons had also been heavily armoured and wielded greataxes, a well placed blow was pretty much all it took to fell them. Even you managed to take one down, although its body didn't turn to dust and simply faded away, and you didn't even get any EXP from it.
That was strange but not unusual if they were merely summons and not actual monsters. Still, whoever summoned them must have an immense mana pool, especially if they were also the one who'd created the dark fortress in the first place.
The moment you and your fellow soldiers entered the courtyard, you were suddenly set upon by three assailants. They were fast, and with how easily they could dodge attacks or appear behind you, must have some form of instant teleportation ability.
You were forced to fight back to back with Sir Draco, which meant your ranged attacks were less effective since you had to be mindful of your meteor hammer's arc. Your own mana was limited so you were forced to fend off blows with your trusty dagger, which you normally only used for finishing off your enemies.
The three skeletons looked similar, like they could be cousins, but at the same time they were quite different from each other. They were on a whole other level from the dark hordes earlier and you were starting to worry that this could soon turn hairy.
Greater and Lesser Dog were currently taking on a giant of skeleton who had half his skull caved in, a blood red eyelight in his left socket, and wielded a massive, wicked-looking greataxe. He wore a suit of mismatched armour of various materials and styles that had been pieced together seemingly at random. It looked to be mostly plate and hide armour though.
Captain Undyne and Sir Bunbun were holding off a wiry skeleton, who had what looked like corruption pouring out of his eye sockets, a crimson glowing target floating above his chest, and wielded nothing but a cruel dagger as well as his own magic against them. He wore a form-fitting suit of black leather armour that was reminiscent of what the former Shiftingtails Kingdom's scouts used to wear.
You and Sir Draco were focusing on a shorter skeleton who was constantly switching between bone attacks and trying to stab both of you with a well-polished shortsword. He had red eyelights but the left one also had a ring of blue and he wore a red cuirass with a hood and dusty chainmail over top.
"Fall back!" You heard Captain Undyne shout. "We can't let them separate us!"
You and your comrades began shifting towards the gate in an attempt to keep them from attacking your flanks. Although, you'd only taken a few steps when your nose caught a particularly familiar scent. It was sharp, earthy and yet sweet at the same time - the exact scent from your dreams. But where was it coming from?
You noticed a flicker of red out of the corner of your eye and just managed to dodge yet another strike from the hooded skeleton. He scowled and you bared your teeth in response before he darted out of your reach again. He smelled like smoke and death so it certainly wasn't him.
"Come on, pup. If we don't move now, they'll cut us off from the others," Sir Draco rumbled as he blocked another volley of bone bullets with his shield.
You sniffed the air intently, barely hearing what he'd said. That scent...they were here somewhere... Your soulmate was here!
Without really thinking, you darted off in the direction that you were certain the scent was coming from, disregarding the fact that you were also running away from your comrades. You just managed to dodge a bone bullet the hooded skeleton summoned, although it did graze your side. You could hear Undyne shouting at you to return but you didn't listen and kept running. It seemed like no one was actually chasing after you but you could still hear the clash of weapons at the gate, so maybe your comrades had kept them occupied?
The scent was coming from further inside the fortress and only grew stronger the further you ventured, until you managed to slip into a dark building and close the door behind you.
Your paws were great at muffling your footsteps and thanks to your nose, you knew that you were close to the source of the scent. You stepped cautiously around furniture and through passageways until you entered the largest library you'd ever seen.
There was light here, from various lanterns and candles peppered throughout the room, which you were grateful for since you couldn't really see in the dark, although you couldn't help but feel uneasy. You slipped between bookshelves and your ears twitched as you strained to hear the slightest sound. Other than the clinking of the length of chain in your paws and that of your own armour, everything seemed quiet.
Too quiet.
The scent was everywhere and you were starting to have a hard time pinpointing which direction to keep moving in. The fur on the back of your neck suddenly stood on end and you quickly turned, only to come face to face with another skeleton.
He was covered in corruption and four tendrils undulated restlessly behind his back. He wore no armour but underneath the black ooze he seemed to be wearing fancy clothing. He had a gold circlet on his skull and a single cyan eyelight in his left eye socket, as his right was covered by the ooze.
You had barely registered his appearance when he lashed out with his tentacles, slamming you against a nearby bookshelf. You let out a yelp from the impact and heard your meteor hammer clatter to the ground as you lost your grip on the chain.
"Who let a mutt into my home?" the skeleton hissed.
You squirmed but your attempts to escape only caused his tendrils to coil tighter around your body, until it was difficult to breathe.
He drew closer until you were only a few inches apart and narrowed his good eye socket at you. "Are you even a soldier?"
Your eyes widened as it occurred to you that the smell that had haunted you for years was from him. He was your soulmate. Him...the one who'd overthrown an entire country singlehandedly was your one and only.
You pawed at the tendrils around your body. "You're... You're the one..." you managed to gasp.
His smile widened and he let out an amused chuckle. "I'm what? I assure you that whatever you're about to say, I've heard it all before." He let out a sigh and loosened the grasp his tentacles had on you ever so slightly. "But I suppose I can humour you a little bit..."
You couldn't help but cough the moment you could breath properly again. After taking in several lungfuls of air, you looked up at him before trying to explain.
"You're the one I've been dreaming about all my life. My soulmate..."
He stared at you for what felt like an eternity but in reality was probably only a minute. He raised his bonebrows slightly but otherwise showed no further reaction to this revelation.
"Well... That's actually a new one." He chuckled and stepped back a bit but noticeably didn't let go of you. "My apologies, it seems I underestimated you slightly. You're amusing at the very least..."
You huffed and crossed your arms. "I'm serious! I've been looking for so long and now I've actually found you."
He rolled his eyelight before giving you an odd look. "I don't believe you. I don't have a soulmate," he muttered.
"Of course you do! I wouldn't have sought you out if we weren't meant to be together!"
"It's not possible, alright?"
"But-"
His tendrils suddenly constricted once more, although your ability to breath wasn't as impeded this time. You couldn't possibly break out of his hold now and you were all but forced to stay still.
"I mean it," he growled. "Now, I'm going to ask you some questions and you're going to tell me the truth, understand?"
"Yeah, okay. Just, not so tight please?"
He pointedly ignored your request as if you hadn't said anything at all. "Why are you actually here?"
"My comrades and I were ordered to investigate this place and if possible, take down the source of the corruption. Although, it seems that's you, isn't it?"
"Yes, I am. My name is Lord Donovan, the new ruler of this land." There was a twinge of pride in his voice and he puffed out his ribcage slightly. "Where are your comrades?"
You didn't like how ominous his tone sounded but there was no reason to lie to him. "They're probably still fighting your men at the gate, at least they were before I caught your scent and sought you out."
He gave you an incredulous look. "You broke rank on the off chance that I was your so called soulmate? What a foolish thing to do, almost as foolish as coming here in the first place."
You wrinkled your nose and let out a frustrated huff. "You are my soulmate!" you growled. "How many times do I have to tell you that before it gets through your thick skull?!"
He abruptly yanked you closer until your foreheads were nearly touching, but so that he was leering down at you. "Listen well, mutt. I am not your soulmate. I am an entity of pure hatred and spite. I am incapable of love or any remotely positive feeling for that matter."
"S-surely there's a way to find out?" you whimpered.
He sighed and ran his hand over his face. "Yes, there is a divination ritual that can be performed, but such a thing takes time, something you don't have right now."
You squirmed in his grip. "I don't need some fancy ritual to prove that you're wrong. If you just, let me go for a moment, I'll show you."
He eyed you warily before taking a glance around the library. "Fine, but don't try anything. I would prefer if you didn't ruin any of these tomes with your useless dust."
You gave him a curt nod, although the casual threat wasn't lost on you. "Same goes for you."
He released his tendrils, dropping you unceremoniously to the ground but you managed to land your feet. After straightening your armour and retrieving the weapon you'd dropped earlier, you turned back to him again.
Lord Donovan stood with arms crossed and a critical expression on his face. "I'm surprised that you would risk turning your back on an enemy," he commented.
You chuckled, "Well, you just said that you didn't want to ruin these books."
He narrowed his eye socket. "I could've lied..."
You snorted but chose not to needle him further. Instead, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes before pressing a paw against your chestplate.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm baring my soul to you. What does it look like?" you retorted.
You could feel him judging you but he made no move to interrupt. "You're a fool," he finally stated.
You ignored him and drew your soul out, letting the upside down white heart float lazily in your palm. It wasn't perfect like it had once been but the faint cracks spoke of the many battles you'd survived to get to this point. You could even see your stats, which was only further proof of your strength and the deeds you'd committed for it.
When you met his gaze again, you noticed that he looked a bit uncomfortable. His permanent grin had fallen and he was doing his best not to look at your soul directly. He actually reminded you a little of a bashful child at the moment.
"How does this," he vaguely gestured at you, "actually prove anything?"
You had to grit your teeth to keep from laughing at him. Had he never been taught how these things worked? Even an eight year old could understand the significance of baring your soul to your fated.
"The frequency of our souls are the same and that means we are soulmates," you responded.
He scoffed at that. "I'm not showing you my soul."
"Come on... If you'll just do this one thing, you'll know that I'm right!"
He frowned and shook his skull.
"Please, I'm not trying to trick you..." When he made no move to respond, you sighed and held out your paws. "I understand that you don't trust me; I probably wouldn't either if I was in your position. You can hold my hands if you want, I promise I won't hurt you."
He eyed them for a moment. "Fine...but on one condition..."
You nodded vigorously, "Of course!"
"If you really want to see my soul, then I can't have you leave, at least not alive... Are you actually willing to give up everything, including your friends and family, on something as improbable as being soulmates?"
"With all due respect, I am a soldier. I live each day as if it were my last, as does my family. When I was ordered to come here, I did so knowing that I likely wouldn't return and if this is the price I must pay to find my soulmate, then I am willing."
He seemed to consider your words for a moment before meeting your eyes again. His cyan eyelight flickered for a moment before a new look crossed his face. It almost seemed like one of respect but you couldn't entirely be sure.
"Very well then, if you're certain you won't live to regret it."
He hesitated for a moment but when you didn't pull away, he stepped closer and coiled two of his tendrils around your wrists. His grip was firm but surprisingly gentle and he lifted your paws over your head, so there was no way for you to attack him. In this position, your height discrepancy was much more obvious and you felt rather small next to him.
You felt completely exposed like this, even though you were still wearing your armour. Having your soul floating freely with no way to shield it from anyone else's eyes was honestly a little terrifying. He could strike you down in an instant and there wouldn't be anything you could do about it.
Lord Donovan brought his hand to his ribcage, mimicking the gesture you had made earlier. He focused for a second before pulling his own soul from his body. It wasn't shaped anything like you'd expected, instead it was more oblong than heart-shaped, much like the cross section of an apple. It was jet black with a cyan flare around the edges and seemed like it too was coated in corruption like the rest of his body.
You couldn't help but find his soul oddly beautiful but you kept your comments to yourself for a moment. Instead, you watched him calmly for what he'd do next.
He seemed to be contemplating something before gingerly bringing his soul closer to your own. You were thankful that he didn't let them touch, instead holding it a few inches away.
You waited with baited breath.
At first, your souls simply floated there, slowly thrumming with latent mana.
Suddenly you felt an intense pulse pass through your soul.
It was unlike anything you'd ever felt before, although slightly similar to the high that you'd experienced a few times when your LV increased, except way better. There was a rush of power but also a strong euphoric feeling that made all your uneasiness ebb away.
Donovan seemed utterly stunned. His cyan eyelight had shrunk down at least two sizes and he stood stock still like a statue.
"You felt that?" you whispered, although you couldn't keep yourself from grinning like a maniac.
He seemed completely at a loss for words and it took him a moment to even register that you'd asked a question at all. "I... Yes...I felt that..."
"Do you believe me now?"
"You were right about the frequency being the same..." He finally tore his gaze away from your souls and gave you an intense look. "You can't leave me."
You chuckled and tried to move your arms, only to remember that he still had you restrained. "A deal's a deal. I saw your soul and we're soulmates now; seems fair to me."
"Indeed..." he murmured, before guiding his soul back into his ribcage. You noticed that he hesitated to do the same for you.
You chuckled softly at his apparent awkwardness. "I can do it myself if you'd rather not, you'll just have to let me go first."
"No, it's fine..." He took great care not to graze your soul with his claws as he returned it to it's proper place in your chest. His movements were rather stiff though, almost like he was handling fine china and was afraid of smashing it.
His hand lingered for a moment, as if he was debating if he should actually touch you or not, before pulling away. "Forgive me...but this is a lot to take in at the moment. I never thought-" He cut himself off and changed the subject. "I never even asked for your name..."
You smiled and told him your name as his tendrils around your arms loosened, allowing you to lower them back to your sides, but not actually letting go just yet. The tips wound softly through your fingers like they were curious or maybe they just wanted to hold you like a lover might.
"I suppose there is still the matter of your former comrades." He looked off in the direction you thought the gate was in before asking a question. "How would you prefer I deal with them?"
You felt your heartbeat quicken. "I'd prefer they leave with their lives, but knowing Captain Undyne, she wouldn't give up until every one of her men got out safely."
"That poses a problem," he hummed and tapped his mandible thoughtfully. "As my own won't quit until they eliminate all resistance."
Your eyes widened in surprise. "Maybe I could talk to my comrades and convince them to leave?"
"No." His expression darkened and he turned back to you. "They won't leave if they see that you're alive."
"So what do we do?"
He thought for a moment before turning to leave the library, tugging you along with his tentacles. "I have an idea, come with me."
You let out a small yip as you nearly stumbled over your own hind feet while trying to follow him. He spared you a glance over his shoulder but kept quickly moving through the dark passageways. He did mercifully let go of one of your arms so you would have a bit more balance though.
He led you into a room that, from the shelves of tonics and the racks of drying herbs, reminded you of an apothecary. The various herbs and ingredients all melded together into a slightly musty smell that you weren't fond of.
Donovan pulled a specific vial down from the shelf and brought it over to the work bench. You walked over and leaned against it to see what he was doing. After adding a few ingredients and swirling it together, he turned back to you.
"I need you to trust me..." He trailed off and glanced away before muttering, "Not that I've done anything to deserve your trust so far..."
You gave him a gentle smile and stepped closer to put your paw on his arm. He inadvertently jumped at the contact but didn't pull away.
"Of course I trust you. Whatever your plan is, I'll go along with it."
His bonebrows furrowed and he lightly stroked the fur on the side of your face with his claws. "Can I have your dagger?"
"I'm surprised you even noticed I had one," you chuckled as you drew the blade from its sheath and held it out to him.
He hummed and took it from your grasp. "I think you'll find that there isn't much that escapes my attention." He eyed the sharp edge for a moment before glancing back at you. "How attached are you to this?"
You frowned slightly. Your dagger wasn't too special to the naked eye but it had served you well ever since you'd been gifted it after your first successful mission. Even though it wasn't your primary weapon, any of your comrades would recognize it as yours if they saw it.
"It's just a dagger," you answered. "It's a small sacrifice to be with you forever."
He watched you for a moment before nodding. "Very well. This will hurt, but I'm only going to do what's necessary for you to be free of them."
You felt his tendrils coil around your body, cradling and holding you in place. He caressed your face and seemed to study your eyes for a second longer. You took a steadying breath and nodded.
And then he ran you through with the dagger.
You should've found something to bite down on before agreeing to this but your scream of pain was cut off when he abruptly yanked you into a kiss. It was a rough kiss and, if he wasn't holding you in place, you might've fallen over from the forcefulness.
He pulled away quickly and pressed the vial to your lips. It had a harsh taste but you managed to get it down without choking. Almost immediately, you felt an odd warmth flood your body and your eyelids began to grow heavy.
Lord Donovan laid you down on a bed that hadn't been in the room and you wondered if he'd brought you somewhere else. You knew he'd just inflicted what would normally be a mortal wound but somehow your body wasn't falling to pieces. If it weren't for the pain and sudden exhaustion, you probably could've run a mile. Whatever was in that tonic was obviously far stronger than any healing potion you'd ever been able to afford.
Your gaze met his own and when you held eye contact, he seemed relieved. He still held your dagger but it was thoroughly coated in what you instinctively knew was your own dust so that not even the handle was spared. He then took it in two of his tendrils and snapped the blade in half, as if it were nothing but a twig and not hardened steel.
Your shocked expression must've been concerning as he frowned and moved closer to you again. He combed his claws through the fur between your ears in a comforting manner.
"I'm sorry, but this needs to be as convincing as possible if they are to leave and not return in some foolhardy attempt to rescue you."
You swallowed thickly and managed to nod.
"Rest now, I will deal with them myself. You have my word that they won't be unnecessarily harmed."
You were out before he even left the room.
~ ~ /⁠ᐠ⁠。⁠ꞈ⁠。⁠ᐟ⁠\ ~ ~
You awoke to the sound of several unknown voices. There was a loud voice that spoke the most and the fastest, a softer and more raspy voice that occasionally answered the first's questions, and then there was a third much deeper voice who only spoke in clipped one word answers. They immediately fell quiet as soon as they realized that you were awake.
When you risked cracking open your eyes, you came face to face with one of the skeletons from earlier, specifically the one that had corruption leaking from his eye sockets. His skull took up most of your field of view but you could just barely make out the other two skeletons near the doorway.
"well well, look who's finally awake~" he teased.
You narrowed your eyes at him. "I suppose so. Now can you back up a bit?"
He smirked but mercifully stepped away from the bed so you could sit up. Your armour had been removed at some point although you were still wearing your tunic. You would likely need new gear after Donovan stabbed you anyways, but you didn't like being in the same room as three very dangerous people while unprotected.
There was still some pain but you seemed perfectly fine otherwise. Maybe later you'd have to check where the wound had been to see how it had healed. You could feel that a bandage had been wrapped around your abdomen but that was all that seemed to have happened.
"so, word is you and the boss are thick as thieves all of the sudden..."
You glanced up at him sharply. There was no point in denying it but should you really tell them why he'd spared your life?
He chuckled and glanced over at the other two, who seemed like they could care less. "we've just been dying to meet you, haven't we?"
The large skeleton huffed and the hooded one merely rolled his eyelights.
He didn't seem phased by their lackluster enthusiasm and soon turned back to you again. "you got a name then, cutie?" he asked way too sweetly.
You raised your head and squared your shoulders before introducing yourself.
"aw, it suits you!" He grinned, although it was a tad too wide. "i suppose introductions are in order then..."
"the big guy goes by maul," he said and pointed him out to you. He bent down to whisper in your ear, "he doesn't talk much, but between you and me, it's rumoured that he used to be the headsman during the coup in the horrur kingdom."
You believed it. The way you'd seen him swing that greataxe was proof enough of his strength. You were curious how he got the head wound if he was just the executor, but you weren't about to ask.
Maul's single red eyelight observed you coolly before he nodded slightly. At least he didn't seem like he wanted to tear you apart right away.
"mr. broody goes by reven." He directed your attention to the skeleton in question before repeating what he'd done earlier. "pretty sure he still wears his old paladin armour, despite breaking his oath after his brother got dusted. he's the one responsible for the crimson stabbings, didn't you know?"
You pulled the sheets slightly closer and swallowed nervously. You remembered how afraid everyone had been during that time and how at a loss your superiors had been. The murders had gone on for years before just stopping without any conclusion being reached.
Reven narrowed his eye sockets suspiciously but he seemed to like the effect that his supposed reputation had on you.
"it's actually kinda impressive you held him off for as long as you did back there~"
Reven scowled at his loud mouthed compatriot's words and crossed his arms. You certainly didn't feel proud of yourself and if it wasn't for Sir Draco, you knew he would've overwhelmed you quickly.
Trying to distract yourself, you turned to the last unnamed skeleton in the room, who was still a bit to close for your comfort. "And who are you?" you asked.
"You can call me Dirk, or anything else you feel partial to~" He practically beamed at the revelation that you were even remotely interested in his backstory. "I used to run with some brigands and we made a decent killing for a while. Although, I was always meant for something more than that boring life so I killed them instead."
You didn't know what you had been expecting but how flippant he was about committing murder was more than a little unsettling. You really shouldn't have been so surprised though.
"Your armour doesn't belong to you, does it?" you asked carefully.
"oh yeah." He grinned before adding, "i stabbed a guy for it!"
You ran a hand down your face and sighed. "Of course, why did I think you would've done anything otherwise?"
In an effort to change the subject, you glanced at the others and asked a different question. "What happened to...my companions?"
Neither Maul nor Reven seemed interested in answering although the latter suppressed a small chuckle.
Dirk pulled a face and shook his skull. "they ran like cowards," he muttered.
You frowned. "That doesn't sound quite right. Are you sure?"
"well... the fish lady got pretty mad when the boss revealed that you were 'dead'..." He made finger quotes and chuckled. "she actually tried to fight him but he taught her a lesson real quick."
Reven chuckled as well. "she had to be hauled away by the rest of them..." he muttered under his breath.
You felt your heart drop. Donovan had promised that he wouldn't kill them, but you still couldn't help feeling concerned. What if she succumbed to her injuries before getting to safety?
"hey."
You glanced over at Dirk and immediately noticed that his permanent grin had fallen slightly.
"how do we know that you didn't just trick the boss into thinking you two are... what's it called?" he paused for emphasis before continuing, "soulmates, or some other dumb crap?"
He took a step closer to the bed and you inadvertently tried to back away from him. Seeing movement out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that the other two had seemed to take interest as well. Maul stayed by the door, although his grin widened in an unsettling way and he crossed his arms. Reven narrowed his eye sockets and took a few steps closer.
"Of course not! I wouldn't-"
Your protest was cut off when Donovan suddenly materialized on your other side. The boys paused and turned to look at him, although at first he said nothing and shot each of them a look of displeasure. Without saying a word, he wrapped your body up in a few of his tendrils and pulled you closer to him.
"If any of you so much as look at my soulmate wrong, I will not hesitate to strip your souls from your miserable bodies and torment you for eternity," he growled quietly.
You felt a shiver run down your spine but his threat seemed to have an effect on the boys. Maul glanced away and Reven seemed to visibly deflate. Dirk seemed to grow uncomfortable but outwardly didn't appear intimidated.
Donovan eyed each of them for several long seconds before he turned to you and seemed to visibly relax. He gave you what was supposed to be a comforting smile but it still looked a little scary on him.
"I didn't go for a killing blow but holding back is a little difficult for me. She'll probably just lose an eye if treated properly," he stated. His tone came across as pretty ominous but you did feel some relief that he'd at least attempted to keep his word.
"Thank you, I appreciate that you still tried."
~ ~ /⁠ᐠ⁠。⁠ꞈ⁠。⁠ᐟ⁠\ ~ ~
Later, once you were properly healed, Dirk approached you in the common area while you were attempting to salvage what you could from your old armour. You inadvertently tensed up but he flashed you a smile that was probably supposed to look friendly.
"so, i've been thinking," he started to say.
You raised an eyebrow. "That's worrying," you responded with an awkward laugh.
Across the room, you heard Reven snicker but he didn't bother trying to join in.
Dirk's smile grew wider. "heh... anyways, each of us has a place on the team. maul is the muscle, reven is good with both melee and ranged fighting, and i'm the assassin but i dabble in ranged attacks too. so, what do you do?"
You took a moment to think it over. You wanted to get along with them and if proving yourself a competent teammate would help, you were determined to do your best.
"Well, I'm generally a forward scout but I'm more than capable of holding my own in melee combat."
Dirk nodded, "fun! i guess we'll have to eventually come up with a nickname for you." He held out his hand and tilted his skull all the while smirking at you. "welcome to the dark fortress."
You grasped his hand and smiled. Maybe you'd like being here a lot more than you originally thought.
Notes:
A meteor hammer is kind of like a flail. It is a weapon with one or two weights attached to a length of chain. It may be impractical, but I had a distinct mental picture of MC swinging it around that I loved.
Donovan is an Irish name and means dark warrior.
Maul is actually named after the weapon of the same name (although the verb is kinda fitting too!).
Reven is short for revenant and a nod to one of the coolest characters in Star Wars (Darth Revan).
Dirk is named for a type of dagger.
Did you catch what kingdom was taken over by Donovan and his gang? I had a hard time coming up with one that made sense so Storyshift it was. In this world, each AU is its own kingdom, meaning pretty much every major AU can and probably does exist somewhere or somehow.
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