#constantly varied movement

[tovaicas]

anyways my friends activated my conlang brain and I've made smth insane as usual

red is influences, blue is Elezen-family languages, green is like a mix bc I see the Alliance cities as having a trade language (that critically is limited to them).

I see Duskwight as a separate language from Black Shroud Elezen (but sharing a lot - easy enough to learn for those speakers). Coerthan and all its derivatives are a whole different language under the Elezen umbrella and isn't mutually intelligible with BSE. Because they split so early, they probably don't share much more than root words and etymologies; within the same family so not difficult to learn for other speakers of Elezen languages, but very distinctly different.

(also I'm not listing them but the branches extend to include other diaspora Elezen languages)

[canichangemyblogname]

Wow… what an amazingly revolutionary ideology that is totally challenging and deconstructing the patriarchy (/sarcasm) by *checks notes* blaming victims of patriarchal violence…

I’m sure you have other totally normal, totally non-racist, totally non-homophobic things to—

Hmm. Wow. Yeah. Fascinating how “hate all men” leads people to specifically single out marginalized men and discourage people from forming class consciousness on issues of race and queerness. Would have never expected that (/sarcasm). I’m sure this is super duper helpful for combating white supremacy 👍

[trans-axolotl]

also in regards to that last article about varied ways of thinking about psychosis/altered states that don't just align with medical model or carceral psychiatry---I always love sharing about Bethel House and their practices of peer support for schizophrenia that are founded on something called tojisha kenkyu, but I don't see it mentioned as often as things like HVN and Soteria House.

ID: [A colorful digital drawing of a group of people having a meeting inside a house while it snows outside.]

"What really set the stage for tōjisha-kenkyū were two social movements started by those with disabilities. In the 1950s, a new disability movement was burgeoning in Japan, but it wasn’t until the 1970s that those with physical disabilities, such as cerebral palsy, began to advocate for themselves more actively as tōjisha. For those in this movement, their disability is visible. They know where their discomfort comes from, why they are discriminated against, and in what ways they need society to change. Their movement had a clear sense of purpose: make society accommodate the needs of people with disabilities. Around the same time, during the 1970s, a second movement was started by those with mental health issues, such as addiction (particularly alcohol misuse) and schizophrenia. Their disabilities are not always visible. People in this second movement may not have always known they had a disability and, even after they identify their problems, they may remain uncertain about the nature of their disability. Unlike those with physical and visible disabilities, this second group of tōjisha were not always sure how to advocate for themselves as members of society. They didn’t know what they wanted and needed from society. This knowing required new kinds of self-knowledge.

As the story goes, tōjisha-kenkyū emerged in the Japanese fishing town of Urakawa in southern Hokkaido in the early 2000s. It began in the 1980s when locals who had been diagnosed with psychiatric disorders created a peer-support group in a run-down church, which was renamed ‘Bethel House’. The establishment of Bethel House (or just Bethel) was also aided by the maverick psychiatrist Toshiaki Kawamura and an innovative social worker named Ikuyoshi Mukaiyachi. From the start, Bethel embodied the experimental spirit that followed the ‘antipsychiatry’ movement in Japan, which proposed ideas for how psychiatry might be done differently, without relying only on diagnostic manuals and experts. But finding new methods was incredibly difficult and, in the early days of Bethel, both staff and members often struggled with a recurring problem: how is it possible to get beyond traditional psychiatric treatments when someone is still being tormented by their disabling symptoms? Tōjisha-kenkyū was born directly out of a desperate search for answers.

In the early 2000s, one of Bethel’s members with schizophrenia was struggling to understand who he was and why he acted the way he did. This struggle had become urgent after he had set his own home on fire in a fit of anger. In the aftermath, he was overwhelmed and desperate. At his wits’ end about how to help, Mukaiyachi asked him if perhaps he wanted to kenkyū (to ‘study’ or ‘research’) himself so he could understand his problems and find a better way to cope with his illness. Apparently, the term ‘kenkyū’ had an immediate appeal, and others at Bethel began to adopt it, too – especially those with serious mental health problems who were constantly urged to think about (and apologise) for who they were and how they behaved. Instead of being passive ‘patients’ who felt they needed to keep their heads down and be ashamed for acting differently, they could now become active ‘researchers’ of their own ailments. Tōjisha-kenkyū allowed these people to deny labels such as ‘victim’, ‘patient’ or ‘minority’, and to reclaim their agency.

Tōjisha-kenkyū is based on a simple idea. Humans have long shared their troubles so that others can empathise and offer wisdom about how to solve problems. Yet the experience of mental illness is often accompanied by an absence of collective sharing and problem-solving. Mental health issues are treated like shameful secrets that must be hidden, remain unspoken, and dealt with in private. This creates confused and lonely people, who can only be ‘saved’ by the top-down knowledge of expert psychiatrists. Tōjisha-kenkyū simply encourages people to ‘study’ their own problems, and to investigate patterns and solutions in the writing and testimonies of fellow tōjisha.

Self-reflection is at the heart of this practice. Tōjisha-kenkyū incorporates various forms of reflection developed in clinical methods, such as social skills training and cognitive behavioural therapy, but the reflections of a tōjisha don’t begin and end at the individual. Instead, self-reflection is always shared, becoming a form of knowledge that can be communally reflected upon and improved. At Bethel House, members found it liberating that they could define themselves as ‘producers’ of a new form of knowledge, just like the doctors and scientists who diagnosed and studied them in hospital wards. The experiential knowledge of Bethel members now forms the basis of an open and shared public domain of collective knowledge about mental health, one distributed through books, newspaper articles, documentaries and social media.

Tōjisha-kenkyū quickly caught on, making Bethel House a site of pilgrimage for those seeking alternatives to traditional psychiatry. Eventually, a café was opened, public lectures and events were held, and even merchandise (including T-shirts depicting members’ hallucinations) was sold to help support the project. Bethel won further fame when their ‘Hallucination and Delusion Grand Prix’ was aired on national television in Japan. At these events, people in Urakawa are invited to listen and laugh alongside Bethel members who share stories of their hallucinations and delusions. Afterwards, the audience votes to decide who should win first prize for the most hilarious or moving account. One previous winner told a story about a failed journey into the mountains to ride a UFO and ‘save the world’ (it failed because other Bethel members convinced him he needed a licence to ride a UFO, which he didn’t have). Another winner told a story about living in a public restroom at a train station for four days to respect the orders of an auditory hallucination. Tōjisha-kenkyū received further interest, in and outside Japan, when the American anthropologist Karen Nakamura wrote A Disability of the Soul: An Ethnography of Schizophrenia and Mental Illness in Contemporary Japan (2013), a detailed and moving account of life at Bethel House. "

-Japan's Radical Alternative to Psychiatric Diagnosis by Satsuki Ayaya and Junko Kitanaka

[nyursi]

𝐂𝐀𝐓 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐑!ㅤpart two.

꒰ † ੭‎ㅤNSFW 18+ㅤ(MDNI)...  in a series of successful heists, the infamous cat burglar is finally caught and is left with the mercy of his victims to decide his fate.ㅤノㅤnot proofread.

ᡴꪫ‎ TODAY'S SPECIAL!ㅤdiluc, zhongli, heizou, (part one) alhaitham, dottore, and wriothesley (here, part two)!

WOULD YOU LIKE SPRINKLES? (っω=`)ㅤm!rdr, sensory deprivation, nipple play, sounding, multiple orgasms, cumming untouched, vibrators, office sex, power imbalance, size difference, degradation, and more.

                 ㅤ ⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝

THE VALUE OF PAPERWORK...

featuring sensory deprivation, cumming untouched, nipple play, and alhaitham.

your skin was flushed, red on every surface from head to toe. the tight binding around your limbs restricted and chased away any thoughts of trying to escape.

the normal response to this situation would be fear... but why do you feel a tingling sensation down your back?

hard nipples exposed to cold air; and thighs forced open wide for the akademiya's scribe to take in. "what a sight you make, thief."

indeed— in alhaithams eyes you looked quite the feast. the situation was in his hands too, having caught the famous cat burglar attempting to sneak in. luckily he apprehended you quick enough.

just... not in the way you expected.

sure, the usual tying up to prevent movement you saw ahead of you, but the lack of clothing? and the blindfold over your eyes? a shocked noise (alhaitham considered it a whimper) had filled the silence of the room once you felt his rugged palms fondling your exposed, plush thighs.

oddly enough, the sensation was nice. it was the first time you've ever been caressed in such a gentle way that it made you want to melt. (purr, the scribe hoped.)

"mngh..." you bit your lip to muffle any more embarassing sounds to leave your mouth, feeling your limp cock twitch with arousal. everything about you alhaitham found cute; cute ears that twitched at every noise, tail that swayed hypnotizingly, adorable eyes filled with mischief.

it was too bad you were a lowly thief.

if you were trying to steal from him some spare pieces of food, or even money, the scribe would have let you go. but his documents?

he would spare you no mercy.

and thus began the long hours of you being suspended in the air, constantly teased. touches varied from feather light to sudden roughness. but no matter what he did, it all stirred life to the needy pleads of your body.

"don't whine, i'm being nice to you." alhaitham said after a babble of begs reached his ears when yet another orgasm was taken away from you. he kissed your nipple, tenderly, then bit on it and tugged. wanting to hear another wanton moan. "ngh!~" your head threw itself back whilst your legs kicked (as much as they could against restriction.)

hips stuttering once alhaithams free hand ventured downwards close to your twitching hole, too close for your liking. he chuckled feeling the heat between your thighs, but continued past the desperate heat to fondle at your tiny balls.

pre begun to leak down your sensitive shaft, dripping and leaving a small pathetic puddle on the floor. and alhaitham decided to finish it then and there.

"gah!?-" a painful pleasure struck you when he pulled on your hardened nubs, leaving you drooling and squirming. your mind couldn't figure out if you were squirming away or towards the sensation. "nngh! hai- haitham!~"

hips stuttered with every tug on your chest, and alhaitham wished he could see your crossed eyes underneath the blindfold. but the scribe was curious, and wanted to see if you could cum faster.

he began to tug on your tail harshly, while still paying attention to your cute nipples. "nn.. nooo! 'm sensitive!" you wailed, unprepared for the rushing pleasure that travelled all the way down to your cock.

soon enough, the bead of pre on your tip became a string of white, coating both of your chests in a sticky mess.

you'll have to tell the fatui to remind you that alhaitham is very serious about his documents...

                 ㅤ ⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝

THE SCIENTIST'S NEW LAB RAT...

featuring vibrators, multiple orgasms, sounding, and dottore (not prime).

how many times already? you've lost count. and the loud buzzing didn't do any help to make you remember anyway.

your plan was simple; get to snezhnaya, sneak past the lowly guards, and somehow snag the doctor's latest creation— a faux gnosis. your client believed it to hold the same celestial power like a true one.

suspicion nagged at the back of your mind when you noticed the lax patrol around dottore's laboratory, and you should've known that he had some sort of contraption so insane that he didn't need any guards.

nonetheless, you shrugged such a situation off.

"a-ahnn!~ hah- wait, no! i can't-" a loud moan ripped from your throat, and a pathetic spurt of semen landed on the floor again.

your wrists and ankles hurt— being held by cold metal for hours wasn't all that pleasant.

a guttural chuckle echoed around the room, laughing at your state. "do you like it? i decided to modify my new security measures when i heard of a certain cat burglar and his plans to take away my precious gnosis." dottore finally entered your vision, circling you like a predator.

the scene of you being captured replayed constantly in his mind. it was too good!

as soon as your feet stepped through the metal door, they triggered a sensor that allowed two cuffs to come out of nowhere and secure your ankles. they were weighted— and the heaviness on your feet caused you to collapse. which allowed the handcuffs to attach itself on your wrists.

so now you were wriggling on the floor, being tortured and teased by various vibrating instruments. you had cum in your pants for the nth time by now, and the vibrators in your ass assaulted your sensitive prostate nonstop.

"can't- don't wanna cum anymooore!~" you whined, body twitching from the extreme pleasure that caused tears in your eyes. all the while dottore thought you could belong to an art exhibit!

footsteps approached. "well, if you say so." dottore had a mischevious grin, as he held out a long beaded rod for you to see. "ngh!?-" suddenly a cold sensation entered your urethra; succesfully blocking any future orgasms.

to make it worse, the doctor had turned all vibrators to max. he could only chuckle when all your sounds echoed off the walls. be it babbles, whines, or squeals, dottore took it all in. "aww," he pet your ears gently— contrast to the harsh movements within you.

in the same rhythm of his hand, dottore moved the sounding rod up and down, with every thrust downwards he pushed it in more, until the biggest bead nestled itself on your tip. and as soon as it did, your toes clenched.

fuck. it touched your prostate.

"gukh!~" your jaw went slack, and an extreme feeling rushed to your red, throbbing, cock.

he could only cackle when not an ounce of cum escaped, maniacal laughter fading when you passed out.

dottore has such exciting plans for his new pretty kitty!

                 ㅤ ⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝

METHODS OF DISCIPLINE...

featuring office sex, power imbalance, size difference, and wriothesley.

"i'm innocent! i swear!" you plead as wriothesley dragged you through the halls, the sight of never ending cells made you shiver.

the buff male didn't pay you any mind. continuing to tug at the long metal chain around your neck, leading you to what seems to be his office.

your were wide eyed and fearful, that much wriothesley could tell. hearing that cute little gulp behind him made his cock twitch.

he didn't expect such a famous burglar to be so... cute. everything about you seemed meek now that you were in chains. and the cold steel around your skin wasn't a bad look on you, either.

wriothesley chuckled to himself, shaking his head as you both approached his office. honestly? the sound of his deep laugh was quite nice, despite the initial fear rattling your bones.

"don't lie, boy. i know what you did." he huffed, throwing you onto his desk, and the loud slam of his door made you flinch. in an attempt to be free from future punishment, you scrambled to defend yourself.

"i'm not! i didn't do anythi-" you garbled when the taste of leather invaded your tongue, did he really just shove his fingers in your mouth!? wriothesley already predicted your next move and pinned both wrists above your head.

"ah-ah, lying will make this worse."

a diappointed tsk made you flinch, especially as you felt a pressure on your clothed bulge. you gave him a weak kick to his thigh— and wriothesley couldn't help his rising laughter.

"what's a kitty like you gonna do to me? don't you see how small you are?" with every word he said, wriothesley inched his face closer and closer to yours. until you felt his hot breath fanning your face.

just right when you were gonna talk back, he begun to rub his knee in circles, the feeling was so good that you threw your head back against the desk. "hng!~"

and wriothesley saw an opportunity.

in a quick movement, he leaned down and bit. not so hard to draw blood— but it'll definitely leave a mark. "huh?- wrio!~" your legs instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist, making him put down his knee and grind his hard on against your leaking sex.

bite! "who allowed you to call me that?" he bit just on your collarbone, quickening his thrusts. the slacks around him began to feel small with his growing size— and you just got wetter by the second.

you whined, back arching from the desk. "if you're gonna punish me, get in with it!" kicking your legs in frustration due to wriothesley's endless teasing.

"tsk, how demanding. as you wish." he wasted no time and literally tore your pants apart, ripping a hole that perfectly displayed your whole underside. a cute butt to match a cute dick.

a needy moan left your spit-ridden lips, begging for him to do something. anything.

but wriothesley had already decided your fate; a perfect punishment. denying any orgasm to ever escape you.

vanillaclaws 2024.ㅤdo not repost.

[libingan]

— how the TF141 eat PUSSY

JOHN PRICE

price starts by kissing and nibbling along your inner thighs, his breath hot and eager. he moves to your cunt with a determined tongue, savoring every inch of your pussy. his licks are slow, firm, and deliberate, ensuring he tastes every bit of your juices before concentrating on your clit.

he’s skilled and demanding, using intense, steady licks and forceful sucks on your clit, keeping you on the edge with a combination of persistent pressure and sudden bursts of intensity.

throughout, he lavishes you with praise, his voice rough with desire. “you’re so fucking delicious,” he growls. “I love the way you taste. I want to make you come all over my face.”

he doesn’t use toys, preferring to rely solely on his mouth and hands. his focus is entirely on your pleasure, making sure you’re completely satisfied with each lick and suck.

absolutely loves to edge you, bringing you to the brink of orgasm and then pulling back, making you beg for release. “not yet, love,” he’d murmur. “I want to hear you beg for it.”

sometimes he’ll restrain your hands above your head, keeping you from touching him or yourself, making sure you’re entirely at his mercy.

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

gaz takes a calculated and intense approach, starting with slow, deliberate licks around your cunt before shifting focus to your clit. his technique is precise, varying from gentle, teasing licks to rapid, urgent flicks.

neutral towards toys, sometimes using them but not relying on them. his fingers might play with your pussy while his mouth is on your clit, ensuring a thorough and varied stimulation.

gaz’s dirty talk is filled with praise, his voice smooth and encouraging. “you taste so fucking good,” he murmurs. “I love how you’re responding to my tongue. keep moaning for me, let me hear how much you enjoy this.”

he wants to make you feel adored and thoroughly pleasured, using his skillful technique to bring you to the brink of ecstasy with every touch and lick.

he loves to make eye contact while eating you out, watching your every reaction and getting off on the sight of you falling apart. “you look so beautiful like this,” he’d say, his voice husky.

gaz enjoys teasing you, brushing his tongue lightly over your clit and then pulling back, making you whine and beg for more. “tell me what you want, love,” he’d say with a smirk.

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

soap dives into eating your pussy with unrestrained enthusiasm, his scottish accent thick with desire. he starts with rough, eager licks, his tongue hungrily lapping up your juices. hes aggressive, his mouth constantly moving, focusing on your clit with hard, sucking attention.

he loooooves using toys, often incorporating a vibrator or dildo while his mouth is busy on your cunt. his fingers might stretch and tease you, adding extra stimulation to his relentless tongue.

his dirty talk is explicit and degrading, delivered with a thick Scottish accent. “ye’re so fuckin’ wet, lass,” he groans, his voice dripping with lust. “ye love this, don’t ye? ye’re such a dirty wee slut for my tongue.”

soap aims to push you to your limits, enjoying the way you squirm and beg. his relentless focus and use of toys are meant to leave you completely undone and craving more.

he’ll often slap your cunt lightly, adding a sting of pain to the pleasure, making you yelp and moan louder. “take it all, ye slut,” he’d growl.

soap loves to make you ride his face, grabbing your hips and grinding you down against his tongue, making sure you’re in control but completely at his mercy.

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

ghost's approach is intense and commanding. he dives into your cunt with a fierce, determined tongue, starting with broad, rough licks before focusing aggressively on your clit with hard sucks and teasing nibbles. his movements are precise and relentless, ensuring that every touch drives you wild.

he doesn’t use toys, preferring to rely solely on his mouth and fingers. his fingers may thrust into your pussy while his mouth focuses on your clit, creating a combination of sensations that leaves you breathless.

ghost’s dirty talk is harsh and degrading, adding an extra layer of intensity. “you’re such a filthy slut,” he growls against your cunt. “beg for it, you dirty whore. show me how much you want my tongue.”

he loves to hold your thighs apart with a firm grip, keeping you spread wide and completely exposed to his mouth. “you’re not going anywhere,” he murmurs, his eyes dark with desire.

ghost might spit on your clit, adding to the wetness and making his licks even more intense. “take it, you fucking whore,” he growls, his eyes locked on yours as he devours you.

he enjoys making you squirm and struggle, using his strength to keep you in place while he works your pussy with ruthless efficiency. his goal is to push you to your limits, making you come with an intensity that leaves you trembling and completely satisfied.

[moonphaseswrites]

I got an idea but not sure if you are comfortable to write or not.

Poly!NiktoKrueger x reader. I feel like these two are going to be so much fun, especially in bed.

i whole heartedly assumed that it was way too early for me to actually start getting requests! ive hardly had this account up for 24 hours! this excites me to know that ive peaked peoples interests!!

and of course, i havent thought too much of krueger as of late, so i may not portray him too well.

poly!niktokrueger x reader thoughts! both sfw and nsfw, dont worry

sfw

despite the two men being on active duty and neither seeming to be touchy or affectionate people, they happen to make great lovers. between niktos voices calming down with kruegers unneeded usage of german, usually so nikto can zone out, and just your calming aura calming his head down, its not as hectic as youd imagine.

of course, if you didnt know any german or russian going into this, oh boy will you know at least how to speak a bit of each within a few months.

krueger is the one out of the two thats constantly using petnames and sweet talk on the two of you. he adores giving you two gifts, usually something as simple as little notes that he hand wrote. these notes tend to have both an english and a german translation.

the names he calls the two of you vary, but usually stick to the same theme. he is big on the use of "mein". making it known constantly that youre both his, and that he wouldnt think of separating.

your nicknames from your austrian boyfriend are "schatz" and "maus". his name for nikto is "spatzi", although he interchangibly uses "liebe" and "liebling" on both of you.

your russian boyfriend on the other hand isnt a huge fan of nicknames or many loving gestures. he finds it very difficult to express himself, especially with constant arguing going on inside his head about how he should react.

that being said, hes more of the acts of service type of guy. he knows all too well that you can simply take care of yourself, but when hes home he has a knack for telling you to shut up as he quietly does mundane things. washing the dishes (yells and curses at you and krueger if you try helping), tying your shoelaces for you, and even bathing you. its his way of showing that he really does care, even if he doesnt or cant show it in any other way.

i feel like theyd both be a bit overprotective with each other, constantly deployed at around the same times, usually ending up grouped together when deployed at the same areas. meaning theyd also be a bit obsessive protective of you. youre theirs, body mind, and soul. all theirs.

nsfw

being protective, if anyone ever tried to chance the fact that you were theirs, theyd stick a bullet in the person. although, theyd probably joke about pinning and fucking you over the dead body... although youre hoping that its all just a joke.

as nice as it would be in bed, whenever the two of them get home from a long deployment, theyre all over you. nikto being a bit more touchy than usual, rubbing your shoulders and your back. while krueger on the other hand is acting like some needy mutt, almost sitting on his knees in front of you, trying to lean his cheek against your thigh, slowly tugging his face covering to offer up his mouth.

both men tend to be more dominant leading, going at it as more of a duo than anything. although, if there had to be one who was the ultimate dominant, it would be krueger. explaining to nikto just how to do things to make whatever it is feel great, either to whoever was within niktos grasp or even nikto himself.

some nights its you on your back, spread across the shared bed as nikto uses your throat to get off, being rougher than he intended to be as he lost himself. sometimes your hands are tied behind your back, and sometimes youre helping him with your hands as well. its during these times that krueger is pretty much a service top, giving you head while you choke and whine pathetically. any squirms or sudden movements gaining a gentle nip to where his mouth is, occasionally nipping your inner thighs instead.

if youre into biting or pain, theyd make sure to mark you up really good. bruises to mark their territory like some stray mutts, but making sure any bad or violent marks are treated properly with a nice clean.

because their is two of them in this relationship, each with their own needs, youre almost always left satisfied and laid down between the two.

nikto, usually over heated and overstimulated with everything after constant interactions, keeping a bit of a distance between you, but he stays faced towards you in order to witness your tired yet blissful expression. gazing and watching you for a while before you would fall asleep.

krueger curls up against you on the other side of the bed, muttering german compliments and praises into your ear. his hand affectionately caressing your side with a half assed hum, or gently kneading onto your hip and lower abdomen in silent apology for any rough touches.

[dark-konohagakure2]

Hi could you do a puppet gangbang with sasori please ?^_^

tw: dub/noncon, puppet-fucking, gangbang, size difference, master/slave, age difference, aphrodisiacs, voyeurism, double penetration, anal, overstimulation

All characters depicted are 18+

Sasori doesn't particularly like anything, but if he had to pick one thing he likes, and one thing he hates, he'd choose his puppets, and being kept waiting respectively. Sasori gets some degree of enjoyment out of crafting his latest macabre masterpiece, but he gets a feeling akin to annoyance when he has to wait for someone to test it on, but luckily for him, he's recently acquired a little guinea pig.

The puppeteer will get a lot out of his little whelp, a poor soul who is indebted to the Akatsuki, more specifically; to Sasori himself. Sasori will use him to test out his newest poisons and fearsome puppets, however he's not using her body to test out just his creation's combat abilities.

He'll force her to ensure his cruel 'tests' nearly everyday, injecting her with his potent aphrodisiacs to heighten her body's sensitivity and intensify it's responses before forcing one of his puppet's artificial cocks into her, the hole he chooses to use will vary depending on his mood, and his creation's cocks will also vary in size and texture, some being barbed while others will have knots near the base, regardless of which puppet he forces into which hole, she's going to be in a lot of discomfort to say the least.

He's a sadist at his core, so he won't stop at just one puppet, especially if she's done something to annoy him, and Sasori isn't a very difficult man to get on the nerves of, she could do something as innocuous as breathing too loudly or standing too close to him for his liking, and that will be enough for him to deem her deserving of an extra brutal puppet gangbang.

"Hey, idiot. What's all that squirming for? That's just the first puppet. So stop that girly whining and get ready for the second one..."

Outside of the drugs he constantly feeds her, usually without her knowledge, he doesn't bother to prepare her, not deeming her as deserving of it, so she'll have to endure the feeling of a thick wooden phallus stretching out her tight pussy with nothing but her body's natural lubricants to ease it into her. Sasori won't even bother to hide the fact that he's jerking his own cock to the sight of her tight little pussy being forced to stretch around the thick wood.

His go-to position for her to be forced into is one puppet in each hole, stuffing her full with his creations and not giving her enough leeway to escape or even move an inch away from the relentless assault on her holes and senses alike, and seeing both pleasure and pain written all over her face just makes the experience all the more stimulating for him.

Sasori will be watching the entire time, his eyes unnerving and unblinking as he watches with a detached air, using his hands to masterfully control his puppets, his movements indicative of his decades of experience with puppets. Despite his emotionless face, it's clear he's delighting in the lewd spectacle he has created.

Of course the barrage of aphrodisiacs and stimulation is too much for anyone to handle, especially someone as weak as her, so she'll end up cumming her brains out all over the puppets, dirtying Sasori's precious art pieces with her nasty girl cum, something that Sasori won't take very kindly to at all.

"Stop cumming so much, brat. You're not supposed to be enjoy this. Don't make me put you back in your cage like the horny mutt you're being, pervert."

These sessions will either last hours or mere minutes depending on his whims at the time, but Sasori almost never fucks her himself, she isn't worthy of feeling her master's body inside of her, especially when she can't even seem to handle his smallest puppets.

[robin-evry]

Hey, but can you do headcanons Yuu who is Tsuchigumo/Jorogomo? I can imagine students who is afraid of spiders staying away from them, honestly same because holy shit a giant spider (Especially Jamil who is finding a fifth corner to keep away from them)

Sure, ask and you receive. Tbh this sounds more like a Jorōgumo to me and sorry if it's not accurate. I also got inspiration from one of my favorite animes so what I'm a spider

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐎 🕷️🧶

Tsuchigumo (土蜘蛛, literally translated "dirt/earth spider") is a historical Japanese derogatory term for renegade local clans, and also the name for a race of spider-like yōkai in Japanese folklore. Tsuchigumo are also known for their ability to shape-shift. They can disguise themselves as humans to deceive people or lure them into their traps. This ability makes them particularly dangerous, as they can blend into human society until they reveal their true form.

( English is not my first language)

Day 6 : tsuchigumo!yuu

Tsuchigumo!yuu is pretty cunning and yet pretty reserved, they will interact or show more emotion for the people they are close with but unless it's someone they don't know. They will be quiet as well as blunt and straight forward towards the stranger, they will only show their laughter towards the people they knew or care about.

Tsuchigumo!yuu might have unusually nimble and graceful movements, hinting at their spider-like agility. Their stance and walk might exude an almost predatory elegance, as if they are constantly aware of their surroundings.

Tsuchigumo!You also have a photographic memory and a very clever mind similar towards kitsune!yuu, they can remember the scent of someone as well as every detail of the person, they can remember someone's personality to the bottom point as well their sense of smell can identify what type of species they are as long as they recognize it.

Much like a spider detects vibrations, tsucigumo!Yuu might have heightened senses. They can sense magic or emotions in their surroundings, similar to how spiders feel vibrations on their webs. This ability would make them highly perceptive, especially in detecting hidden dangers or unspoken intentions.

Tsuchigumo!yuu also possessed enhanced perception could also help them to foresee attacks in battle or detect invisible threats.

Extremely talented at the art of weaving, they are very talented at the art of weaving cloth, silk, threads as well creating their own clothing, garments and tapestries. They also modified the uniform to have some web designs around it. Plus this clothing might possess magical capabilities.

Beyond ordinary textiles, tsuchigumo!Yuu could weave enchanted fabrics. This could include blankets that induce calming dreams, ceremonial robes that protect against curses, or banners that bring luck or inspire courage when displayed.

Tsuchigumo!Yuu’s creations could have subtle magical properties. For instance, they could weave clothing that enhances specific abilities, such as a scarf that grants invisibility or a cloak that shields against certain types of magic, etc

They did some modification like adding webs on their own uniform as well adding unique patterns that are connected towards the other first years, and these modifications didn't go unnoticed, during the day vil visits them to ask if they can do some modification on his uniforms as well. I can also see them very fashionable.

Tsuchigumo!yuu has a different way of casting spells instead of using magic pens. Tsuchigumo!Yuu casts spells by making weaving motions with their hands, as though they are pulling invisible threads from the air. Each spell requires a specific series of intricate gestures, as if they are "sewing" the spell together. The threads they weave are often faintly glowing strands of magic, varying in color depending on the spell’s nature. More powerful spells might require more complex patterns, with Yuu’s hands moving rapidly to create elaborate webs of magical energy that hold the spell’s power.

If they had to perform a large spell in an area they have to perform a ritual by drawing weaving patterns or a complex web in the ground. By performing these rituals they are able to create a fog of illusion, protection barrier or as well to seal something.

They might retain a mostly human appearance but with subtle, eerie spider characteristics. Their skin could become slightly glossy, resembling the texture of a spider’s exoskeleton, and their limbs may become longer and more slender, giving them a graceful but unsettling look.

Tsuchigumo extra pairs of hands would be great at multi-tasking, they also have the ability of mini spiders allowing them to act as their eyes and ears in distant or inaccessible locations. The spiders could appear almost invisible or blend into their surroundings, making them difficult to detect unless someone has very keen senses or magical perception. These mini spiders also work as workers for them helping them with cleaning as well as helping them weave.

Tsuchigumo!yuu are described to have a beautiful form, they are also very preceptive to the point they immediately can see right through people's fake facade. They immediately realize that cater personality has been fake.

Tsuchigumo!yuu also have the ability to shift into animals as well the appearance to take on different human forms. This includes altering their age, gender, or even specific features to blend in with various social groups or environments.

In their true form, tsuchigumo Yuu would become a massive creature, towering over humans. Their spider body could have a leg span of around 10-15 meters (30-50 feet), making them an imposing figure capable of weaving large webs with ease. Despite their size, Tsuchigumo Yuu’s movements would be graceful and precise, reflecting their weaving talents.

They also have a hybrid form, the upper part of a human but the bottom part of a giant spider. But in their human form tsuchigumo!yuu possess enhanced speed, agility as well as strength. They can even be gymnastics if they want it

Tsuchigumo!yuu are from a clan of a lower ranking yōkai clan but their clan has been looked down upon by the yōkai world, because their clan was usually viewed to be outsiders. Their clan is known for their ability to create the finest clothing in the yōkai world. Their number one client is the prominent clan of Kitsune.

Many students literally fear them as well as Jamil, he refuses to be in the same room as them and when he sees their true form he screams and faints to shock. As payback Tsuchigumo!yuu would sneak into his room and when wakes up he sees them in their room and literally runs out of his. This will continue for one week until they are asked to stop.

Tsuchigumo!yuu started to create clothing and posting them on magic cam thanks to vil making them an account and it went viral due to how high quality they were and the magical properties they possessed. Their clothing is highly sold enough to make a living off their own. They do commissions for nobles and famous people. As a thank you to vil, they created an entire collection of beautiful queen inspired outfits that possessed magical properties.

[sitronsangbody]

But what about health?? Fine, let’s talk about The Health. Here’s everything I think some of you should know and keep in mind when it comes to health: SOME MYTHS AND MISCONCEPTIONS: - You can’t know someone’s health just by looking at them. You just can’t. And it’s probably not any of your business. - Size is not a reliable indicator of health. There is currently no evidence that being fat in and of itself is bad for you. - Health is not a moral category. - Your body doesn’t need to be The Fittest It Could Possibly Be. What matters is where you need it to get you in life, not some theoretical physical potential. SOME STUFF NOBODY SEEMS TO GRASP: - Health is SO individual. Bodies are complex and incredibly diverse. They come with all sorts of needs and limitations and these fluctuate depending on so many inside and outside factors. We do not all need the same number of calories, the same number of steps, the same amount of rest. And we’re not all supposed to look the same. - More stuff than you probably think is genetic. - Mental health is just as important as physical health, and the two very much impact each other. - Our health is impacted by an array of societal factors beyond our individual control. - Some people will never be healthy for whatever reason, and that doesn’t make them less valuable in any way. SOME STUFF THAT IS ABSOLUTELY NOT HEALTHY: - Hating yourself. Fat people are constantly encouraged to fight against our weight and size, and it’s statistically a losing battle. One that wreaks havoc on our mental health. - Starving yourself and shutting out your body’s hunger cues. - Minority stress. Discrimination, marginalization and exclusion is not good for you. It impacts you both physically and mentally. In other words: shaming someone does less than nothing for their health. If you’re shaming people because “you worry about their health”, you are actively causing the kind of damage you claim you want to prevent. - Seeing doctors that don’t know enough about the body you have and how symptoms manifest in it. A very real occurrence for many black people, trans people, fat people, disabled people - the list goes on. - Not having universal health insurance SOME THINGS THAT ARE INDEED HEALTHY: - Eating regularly. Eating a variety of foods and food groups. You should find and eat food you like if possible. - Some level of movement regularly. A lot of us already get it at work et cetera. You should move in a way that you enjoy, that does not cause pain. - Staying hydrated. - Getting enough sleep. The amount will vary from person to person. - Resting when you need it. - Brushing your teeth. Wearing sunscreen. - Not overdoing it with drugs and alcohol. - Fresh air. - Being - and feeling - safe. - Love and community. - Being kind to yourself. NOTE: not everyone has access to all of this. People are busy. People are poor. People are sick. People lack accommodations they need. People live in dangerous areas. People are abused and controlled. The world around us has a huge amount of power over our health.

[artemis32]

Subjugation II

Yandere Erasermic x reader

Well, here you go, part II as promised :))

I’m going to say this took so long because I’ve never written smut before (that’s true, but I also take months to get things done) but I’m so proud of the fact that I actually attempted to write a sex scene, yay me

Please read the trigger warnings below, they aren’t there for fun, and minors dni, go away

****

word count - 7.5k

tw: abuse (physical and emotional), isolation, hypothermia, noncon / dubcon, threesome, oral sex (both f and m receiving), blowjob, choking, biting, nipple play, creampie, cervix-fucking, threats and violence (against reader), power dynamics (reader is in her early twenties, Erasermic duo are in their mid to late thirties), age-gap relationship

****

Part I

bnha masterlist

****

****

Before your little “attempt at defiance”, you had watched the seasons change day by day through the windows scattered throughout the house. There were many, all of them large.

The two men you lived with weren’t exactly worried about you escaping, not when the three of you were the only hint of civilization for a few hundred kilometers. You could run, you could hide, but they were sure to find you before you managed to get very far.

And so, you found solace in watching as the months went by.

One thing you were grateful for, not that you’d ever admit it, is that the two men chose a gorgeous area for the isolated home. The lack of human interference meant that nature flourished all around you.

The thick canopy of trees that surrounded you often looked like something right out of a postcard.

During the warmer months, the thick expanse of trees and other plants cast a large shadow over the back garden. You spent many hours there, lazing about like a cat. It wasn’t as if there was much else to entertain you anyway. In autumn, many of the leaves fell and decorated the forest floor in varying shades of green and brown. It was beautiful.

And winter. Winter was the season you enjoyed the most.

Winter was when you were allowed to cuddle up under heaps of blankets before a crackling fireplace. Winter was when you constantly had a warm mug cradled in your hands.

You were allowed to keep to yourself - you could spend hours reading or napping, even watching television if it was dreary enough outside.

And your favourite part had to be the snow.

It piled up high most years, coming up past your knees, almost to your hips if you were lucky enough.

The cold air would prickle your lungs, making your skin tingle. But no matter how cold it was outside; you could always come back inside and warm up.

No matter what, you were allowed back into the relative warmth and safety the two men provided.

****

You were cold.

You’d lost the feeling in your hands and feet a while ago. Your face was numb too.

How long had it been? 

Hours? Days? Perhaps it had only been a few minutes.

You weren’t sure.

Time felt sluggish, like you were wading through honey. Even the movement surrounding you felt slow and dull. Each snowflake fell slowly, as if you were watching your surroundings change frame by frame.

You lay curled up in a tight ball, tucking your arms and legs into your belly in a futile attempt to preserve some semblance of warmth. 

The tree you were huddled up against was uncomfortable. Everything was uncomfortable. Bark cut into your back, and you were sure that if you were able to feel anything, you would feel the sting of dozens of splinters in your skin.

Even though a thick layer of snow coated the ground, you still felt the hard ground, covered with pebbles, digging into your butt. The snow beneath you had long since melted, drenching your clothing.

The once warm sweatpants and hoodie now clung to your skin. It made the cold worse, you were sure, but you couldn’t bring yourself to remove it. That would require movement, and the loss of what little warmth remained. It also likely meant that you’d lose whatever sense of pride you’d managed to cling to.

You’d stopped shivering a while ago. Now all you managed to focus on was staying awake. 

Falling asleep scared you. You worried you wouldn’t wake up if you did.

So, you sat there, curled up into yourself, scared and cold.

Waiting. For what, you weren’t sure.

****

When you’d first woken up after the two men had drugged your food, you were quiet, timid, trying your best to melt down into the bed beneath you. Stoking their anger would have made everything worse. 

That’s what you told yourself.

The anxiety made your head spin.

Shota was cruel - making you wait for them, wait for some sort of punishment without any indication of what would happen, he knew it made you sweat.

They’d scared you half to death when they realised you were awake, stripping you of your stolen sleep shorts and shirt.

You had thrashed and cried, almost resorting to begging them. Almost, but not quite.

Pride was a cruel thing.

Hizashi had been the one to quell your fears. He’d always had more empathy for you and your situation than Shota had.

“Calm down, we’re not going to touch you.”

You knew what he meant. You should have felt relieved, but terror had settled deep in your stomach like a boulder, especially with the unspoken words that buzzed between you.

We won’t touch you. Not yet.

You still felt sick.

They eventually managed to change you after a few minutes of quiet struggling on your part.

The sweatpants were grey and thick with a hoodie to match. It was comfortable, but the fact that they had seen you so exposed and vulnerable almost made tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. The embarrassment made your skin burn.

Hizashi had made you sit up, poking at your back harshly whenever you slouched. He spent nearly an hour patiently combing through your hair, gently massaging your scalp and shoulders.

It made you uncomfortable. It was far too intimate, too peaceful for you to relax.

Shota came in just as Hizashi finished with your hair, placing a loving peck on the crown of your head.

“Drink it.” A tall glass of what appeared to be water is shoved into your hands.

Your hesitance is clear on your face and Shota throws you a death glare.

“All of it.”

You give him a cautious glance, sniffing the contents of the glass before taking a small sip.

Just water.

Never mind the fact that it may have been drugged, just like the food you had so foolishly scarfed down. You didn’t care for the consequences, but more importantly, you didn’t want to anger the two men any more than you already had.

You drank it slowly, sipping in intervals, trying to buy yourself as much time as you could. The anticipation of waiting for the punishment you were certain you’d receive was agony. Honestly, making you wait so anxiously was probably part of your punishment.

It was so unfair.

What had you done to deserve this treatment?

You’d made your desire to leave abundantly clear, so it wasn’t as if your outburst was unexpected. In fact, you thought that they should be grateful you were behaving as well as you were. Of course, the occasional breakdown should be expected, they were insane if they thought otherwise - not that you’d ever tell them that.

Eventually, you couldn’t stall any further. Your glass was empty and there was nothing left to do but await their verdict. 

You felt like a common criminal, as if you committed some unspeakable crime.

Hizashi re-entered the room, making his way towards you. Each step felt like a weight dropped in your stomach, and his serious demeanour only added to your apprehension. Hizashi was hardly ever this serious.

“You done?” He asks, nodding towards the empty glass in your hands.

You nod silently, unable to speak.

“Okay, come on, up you get.”

He helps you off the bed before leading you towards the door, down the stairs, making a beeline straight for the back door.

The garden?

Confusion kicks in in that moment and you falter slightly.

“Hizashi? Where are we going?”

Your voice comes out softer than you’d like, almost cracking. You would berate yourself for sounding so scared, but your uncertainty throws you off.

He looks at you with a dull expression, almost no emotion in his gaze. He looks tired.

“You’ve brought this upon yourself, just remember that. We warned you.”

With that, he grips your forearm and yanks you outside.

It’s freezing. 

In that moment, as he pulls and shoves you towards the large cluster of trees that act as the perimeter of the property, all you can think is that the two men must be crazy.

Not crazy from anger or lack of awareness. 

Downright crazy.

They have to be. You’d freeze to death out here, especially with the clothing you had on – sweats weren’t exactly snow gear.

He didn’t seem to care, shoving you down before grabbing at a leather rope that you hadn’t seen before, buried beneath the snow. The realisation of what he’s about to do sets in slowly, and by the time you think to react, it’s too late.

The thick leather is smooth around your ankle, the metal links clinking loudly as Hizashi locks it in place. He stands and gives you one last glance, sighing heavily before turning and making his way back to the house.

He didn’t stop.

He didn’t look back.

You don’t call out to him. You only sit and stare at his retreating figure.

Even though the house was so far away, you were sure you heard the lock snap into place as Hizashi slammed the door.

****

Before you’d been taken in by the two men, you enjoyed your own company. Being comfortable alone was a skill you’d picked up pretty early on in life, and it had never been a problem.

That hadn’t changed when you started attending UA – making friends hadn’t been easy, and you hadn’t gone out of your way to try. You accepted that people weren’t drawn to you in the way that you may have hoped when you were younger.

It had grown easier over time, and consequently, you forgot how to cope when constantly surrounded by others. You didn’t even realise that it was a problem until you’d been forced to spend almost every moment of every day with the two men you grew to despise.

Your frustration and lack of patience for other people is probably what made their forced company feel ten times worse.

After months of what you deemed exposure therapy, you’d grown as used to their constant company as you could, although the ever-lingering sense of unease remained.

You thought things were going better – improving.

Evidently, you were wrong.

And you realise after being locked out for hours that you may have grown more dependent on the two men than you’d originally thought.

That realisation is worse than any other punishment either of them could ever try to inflict on you.

****

You had sat in the snow for a while, nearly forty minutes. All that time was spent wallowing in self-pity, misery settling over your mind like a blanket.

Most of that time had been spent in self-reflection.

Maybe I do deserve this. They wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t deserve it. Then again, they’re insane.

…

What have I done to deserve this? Lashed out? ‘Misbehaved’? Fuck, give me a break.

You dig you nails into your palms. Hard.

The pain of skin breaking is what draws you out of your thoughts. You feel disgusted with yourself – pathetic.

Blaming yourself for their decisions is something you actively tried to avoid. During all the time that you’d been with them, you had never, not once, blamed yourself for their words and actions.

The past few days must have affected you more than you’d realised.

In that moment, you felt trapped. You felt suffocated by Shota and Hizashi. Their words and actions, their ‘punishments’ and disgusting innuendos.

You felt panicked at the thought that you were losing pieces of yourself day by day – that one day, sooner rather than later, you’d break. That something inside of you would crack, something you wouldn’t be able to fix or come back from.

And so, you made a split-second decision – one you knew you would regret if you stopped to properly think it through.

It took roughly twenty minutes to loosen the leather leash around your ankle enough to rip it off. It hurt, bruising and cutting into the thin skin of your ankle. But it was off, and you were free to leave.

The moment the leash hit the ground, you were up and running. Running away from the house and into the dense forest behind you.

You didn’t stop to check if they’d noticed, or to cover up the tracks left in the snow. Your quirk would take care of that, thankfully – at least until you placed enough distance between yourself and your prison.

You didn’t look back – you just ran.

****

You had met Hizashi first.

He had been your homeroom teacher; someone meant to help and guide you through the years while you learnt what it meant to be a hero.

While you had been a somewhat withdrawn student, he seemed eager to get you out of your shell, encouraging you to participate in class and engage with your peers. When that ultimately failed, he took you under his wing.

You would often spend your lunch breaks in his classroom, listening to him ramble on in his usual overeager manner.

Being around him was easy – he filled the silence, talking on your behalf when you couldn’t muster the energy for a conversation. You also never seemed to tire in his presence as you did with so many other people, despite his extremely extraverted nature.

Halfway through your second year, you were introduced to Shota in passing.

You’d been in Hizashi’s classroom, keeping him company while he marked papers, as per his request.

He had been absentmindedly humming while you spoke about your plans for the weekend when Shota had walked in.

You had heard about the stealth hero Eraserhead many times, but you’d never had the opportunity to meet him in person before. He had looked tired, his hair hanging loose over his shoulders, posture slouched and slightly tense.

When he made eye contact with you, he seemed to look through you. His gaze had felt uncomfortable, as if he was dissecting you, picking you apart, peeling back layers to see what lay far beneath your skin.

The atmosphere in the room had changed then. While you weren’t aware of exactly why that was, you could sense that the two men seemed to know something you didn’t.

And so, you quietly introduced yourself before bidding both men a goodbye and leaving.

The time you spent with your homeroom teacher had dwindled down over the remaining year and a half of your studies. Though you’d never admit it, it was mainly because of how uncomfortable you’d felt that day.

Even after everything that had happened, after all those years, you still felt far more comfortable with Hizashi than with Shota. Something about him set your hair on end, made your nerves prickle with anxiety.

Perhaps you should have been equally scared of both them – after all, Hizashi was just as terrifying as Shota, sometimes more so.

But his familiarity often lulled you into a false sense of safety, his presence was so comforting, so amicable. That came with its own set of problems, it led to him being overly intrusive, and he became increasingly bold over the years, pushing the boundaries of what your relationship should have been.

Even after the two men had kidnapped you, Shota never held him back, never told him not to cross the line of becoming overly familiar with you.

You suppose it was Hizashi’s own good conscience that kept him from going too far.

That same conscience had been slipping, and you were fearful of the day that he decided he’d had enough of trying to keep you comfortable and at ease around them.

****

You’d long since lost sight of the house, now all that surrounded you was snow and trees. The forest around you was becoming increasingly dense as you ran.

By now, your clothing got snagged on a branch every few steps, and you constantly tripped over the thick tree roots pushing up the dirt beneath your feet. The sky had darkened significantly since you’d gotten away, and you realised you’d soon be stranded in the dark.

As much as that thought scared you, you refused to turn back. Whatever lay ahead was certainly better than what awaited you if you were to return now.

The snow had begun to pile up high, thickly cushioning the forest floor. It made walking more difficult, slowing you down.

But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

You were sure that they had noticed you were gone by now, so the best course of action would be to get as far away as you possibly could. Your quirk, while well suited for covering your tracks, would only last so long, and the further away you were, the less control you had over it.

Besides, you’d gotten a good head start, so at least you’d have time to try and hide if they caught up to you.

Your thoughts are optimistic, even as the cold seeps through your clothing, even as night rolls in.

Still, your optimism can only get you so far.

The terrain is unfamiliar and your pace too fast. One ill-placed root, one misstep, that’s all it takes.

One moment you’re jogging along at a swift pace, trying to move quickly while still retaining energy. The next you’re off balance, tumbling down, down, down.

You’re stopped by a tree, your back slamming painfully into the thick trunk.

The cold is mocking, you can actually see the breath that has been knocked out of you.

You lay there, confused and dizzy. You taste blood.

Eventually, minutes or hours later, you come to your senses enough to realise that you should move, but by now the cold has seeped into your very bones.

How long have I been laying here? I should probably get up now, they might catch up soon.

…I’ll get up now, just let me rest for a few more minutes.

…Just five more minutes...

Your head pounds to an awful rhythm and your vision fades in and out.

Shivers wrack your crumpled frame and your hands, stiff from the cold, fumble around as you grab onto the tree trunk to pull yourself up.

You don’t get very far, slumping against the tree once you’re sitting upright. Getting up exhausted you more than it should have, and you feel drowsy, as if you’d been awake for days.

After some time has passed – how much, you aren’t sure – you slouch back. Your clothes are soaked through now, the snow having melted around your body.

You’re sure that if it had been warmer, you could have gotten up and left, but the cold that surrounds you sinks into you, holding you down.

Briefly, you think about the fact that you might die.

It’s entirely possible that they won’t find you before the cold snuffs out your life. That would probably be for the best. Shivers still wrack your body as you lay curled up next to the tree.

You display all of the typical symptoms for hypothermia, you’re aware of that much, and you know that it won’t be much longer before you lose consciousness.

This isn’t such a bad way to die. It’s peaceful at least, quiet. It’s nice. 

Too bad I’m in too much pain to really enjoy it.

Your thoughts trail off as you fade in and out of consciousness.

****

“Shota, punishment aside, she’s going to freeze to death out there if we don’t go and find her. I agree she’s taken it too far this time, but we can discuss that later. Grumbling about her running away doesn’t mean much if she’s dead.”

Aizawa glares at the blond.

He’s right. He knows he’s right.

But the anger he feels makes him shake.

They were prepared to end your punishment early, to bring you inside and be lenient with you. Hell, Hizashi had made soup and drawn a bath for you. Only you decided that now was the time to run away like a child instead of taking the punishment you deserved like an adult.

Suffice to say, Aizawa was livid.

He left to bring you inside and instead finds an empty, abandoned leash. He couldn’t even follow after you immediately because you were smart enough to cover your tracks.

They had never bothered with quirk cancelling cuffs because Shota was always around. And even if he wasn’t, your quirk couldn’t do much damage to either of them, at least not physically.

“Fine, we’ll discuss it later. But don’t get cold feet when it comes time to punish her. None of this would have happen if we’d squashed out this defiant streak when it first popped up.”

Hizashi sighs heavily, closing his eyes for a moment as he seems to contemplate something.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right – our threats have been empty, and she seems to think we won’t make good on our word. I guess there’s no going around it, we’ll have to do this the hard way then.”

With the agreement that they’d be punishing you more harshly than they’d previously planned, the two men set out on their way, rushing to find you before you got too far.

****

Shota panics when he finds you.

The two pro-heroes had been searching for a few hours. Initially, they’d been hurried in their search, believing that you couldn’t have gotten very far. After all, the area was unfamiliar, and you must have been freezing.

But as more time passed, they began to worry. Night was quickly approaching, and they were no closer to finding you now than they were hours earlier.

Hizashi curses himself for dressing you in such light colours. He hadn’t thought that you would run off though, and the fact that your clothing blended in with the surrounding snow wasn’t helping in the slightest as the two men silently searched for you.

Travelling quickly while also remaining as quiet as they possibly could was an added pain. But it was necessary – they couldn’t have you running off or hiding because they’d been too loud and obvious in their approach.

Their concerns of you hearing their approach and running off proved to be unnecessary, as Shota found you ten minutes later, laying in a crumpled heap at the bottom of a hill.

Your breathing was shallow, barely appearing as small puffs in the cold air. If he couldn’t see your barely visible exhales, he might have thought you were dead.

Panic clenches at Shota’s throat as he rushes to your side, flipping you onto your back and placing his head on your chest, right above your heart. Your heartbeat, while faint, is still constant.

What worries him more than your weak heartbeat and unsteady breathing is the state of your body.

You’re covered in cuts and bruises, blood dotting at your ankle where the leash once sat. More concerning is your temperature – your lips and fingertips are blue, the blood has almost completely drained from your face, and you shiver slightly as he picks you up, cradling you in his arms.

“Zashi!”

He eventually finds his voice, calling the blond over.

When he appears, a noise of distress clogs up his throat.

“She has hypothermia, we have to get back to the house right now.”

And with that he stands with you in his arms and hurriedly begins making his way back to the house. He doesn’t bother looking back to make sure that Hizashi is following him.

Despite the fact that you’re unconscious and unable to hear him, and despite the panic and fear overwhelming his senses, Shota still reprimands you as he carries you back to the house, as if hoping the words get through to you even as you dream.

"It's high time we put you in your place. I've put it off for far too long and you seem to think I'm not serious about the threats and promises I’ve made. You're not getting away from this again. I could excuse you calling us names and fighting back, but putting yourself in danger so recklessly is something we have to punish properly. I’ll be the bad guy if that’s what it takes."

Perhaps he says it to calm himself, to convince himself that you’d be okay. The shake in his voice betrays him.

When they eventually reach the safety of the house, they make their way to the large bedroom, placing you gently onto the comfortable bed.

They say a prayer of thanks that you’re unconscious, it makes it easier to strip you of your drenched clothing and to slip your limp body beneath the linen covers.

Hizashi spends a long time caring for your injuries, softly running a warm, damp cloth over the nasty scratches and tears on your skin before applying ointment, gently massaging your ankle where the leather leash had cut into your skin. 

Your back is a nasty shade of blue, and even in unconsciousness, you flinch back as he brushes his fingers over the bruised skin.

Shota sits idly, leaving only to turn up the heating in the house, but beneath the surface and his cool façade, he feels impatience and worry boiling, rippling under his skin.

As eager as they were to properly teach you a lesson, finding you the way that they had had scared them both, more than they’d probably ever admit.

For now, they were content in taking care of you, the way that they always wanted to. Had you been conscious, you would hardly have recognised the two men, the care and love in their eyes and actions.

After they’ve cleaned you up, they strip and climb into the bed next to you, pressing themselves to you to try and warm you up, praying that you would be alright.

Hizashi cradles your hands in his own, running his calloused palms over your steadily warming fingers.

Slowly but surely, the two men manage to warm you up. Your breathing and heartrate return to normal and your face flushes with colour – you even start to sweat slightly from the sweltering heat trapped beneath the thick duvet. The relief makes both of them dizzy.

Shota and Hizashi wait patiently for you to wake up. They wait, watching the seconds turn to minutes, and the minutes turn to hours. They wait still cradling you between them, trying to maintain their angry façade from hours earlier.

****

You wake up sweating and stark naked.

The silence in the room is loud, so loud that it feels as if your ears are ringing. You feel confused, unable to remember what had happened or where you were. The overwhelming heat increases with each passing moment, and you’re sure you’ll pass out soon if you don’t cool down.

As if you’d projected your thoughts outward, the thick duvet you’re cocooned in is thrown off and your skin prickles from the sudden chill in the room, goosebumps rippling over your arms and legs.

It’s then that you notice the two men on either side of you.

Hizashi is behind you, his body curled against yours, arms wrapped tightly around your waist, face tucked into the crook of your neck.

Shota is in front of you and your face rests on his chest. His arms are folded behind his head, his posture relaxed.

Both men are awake.

And naked.

You try to sit up, but Hizashi holds you in place, restraining you.

Rather than trying to fight against him, you curl into yourself.

Evidently, they wouldn’t let you have even that small semblance of comfort.

Shota pulls you up towards him, making you crane your neck to face him as he grabs the back of your neck harshly. His eyes flash red for a moment, threatening you.

“You’re in so much trouble.”

That’s all the warning they give you before you’re yanked forward, your lips meeting Shota’s in a forceful kiss.

Maybe kiss is the wrong word. It’s bruising, all teeth and tongue. There’s nothing passionate or loving about it. His fingers splay around the base of your skull as you try to pull away.

You’re so distracted by Shota’s ministrations that you barely notice as Hizashi moves downwards, shifting so that he lays between your now open legs.

What you do notice is the first gentle lap of his tongue against your cunt.

You jerk away from both of them in shock, tears forming on your waterline.

Pride be damned, you were ready to beg them, to plead with them. Anything but that. Anything.

They don’t give you a chance to protest, manhandling you back to the position you’d been in moments before.

Shota slams his lips against yours, his movements assertive and swift. You push against his chest until he gives you some space, barely a few millimetres between the two of you. The second you open your mouth to say something, he surges forward and shoves his tongue past your lips, into your mouth, and down your throat, or as far as he can manage.

Between your legs, Hizashi seems to lose the hold he’d managed to keep on his self-restraint for months.

His tongue works diligently, flattening against your cunt, making long, slow swipes from your slit to your sensitive clit and back. Your thighs tighten around his head, trying to shove him away.

It’s too much, too soon. 

There are so many questions buzzing around your head. You’re still so out of sorts. Waking up so abruptly and being shoved into such a confusing situation with no warning sends you into a panic.

I don’t want this, you want to say.

You manage to slip your hands down and tangle your fingers through his soft blond locks, yanking his mouth away from you. You receive a swift stinging slap to the thigh and Shota grasps your wrists in a harsh grip.

The delicate bones in your wrists groan and you shift in discomfort.

Hizashi’s rough palms smooth themselves up and down the soft expanse of your thighs. His touch feels almost loving.

The picture-perfect moment is ruined as he grasps your inner thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to bruise.

A small whimper of pain slips out between your lips, swallowed up by Shota whose fingers move down your throat to fondle your breasts, tweaking and pulling at your sensitive nipples. 

It makes you uncomfortable - they’re too casual with their touches, their presence is suffocating.

Shota is cruel, nipping at your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, which he promptly licks up before moving his attention downwards, towards your neck.

Soft kisses turn into harsh suckling and painful bites.

You try not to think about the bruises you’ll be faced with the following day.

Hizashi eats you like a man starved, suffocating himself between your legs.

You’re drenched now, slick and spit dripping from your cunt as he sucks and slurps at your clit, slipping two fingers into your pussy.

The stretch is slightly uncomfortable, but Shota’s teeth grazing the juncture between your neck and shoulder distracts you. His teeth sink into the soft skin and a sharp pain radiates down your arm and up your neck.

He marked you – like an animal.

Pleasure blooms in your stomach, diverting your attention. As much as you try to hold it off, you feel the beginnings of an orgasm approaching.

Both men can sense it too, from your heavy breathing and muffled moans to the way your hips slightly grind against Hizashi’s face.

It builds up steadily and your body feels warm. You no longer try to cover up your satisfied moans, lifting your hips off of the bed as Hizashi adds a third finger.

You’re on the precipice, you’re so close.

And they stop.

Soft whimpers escape before you can stop them and you try to grind your hips against Hizashi’s fingers, but he pulls them out, leaving you feeling empty and frustrated.

Shota’s hand moves from under your breasts, sliding up your chest to rest on your throat. He looks deep into your eyes before tightening his grip until you can barely breathe.

Your hands shoot up to yank on his wrists, but his grip is steady, and you can do nothing more than rest your hands on his as he stares at you, through you.

His moves forward, until the two of you are nose to nose, sharing the same air.

“If you ever try to pull a stunt like that again, I’ll break both of your legs. We won’t have to worry about you getting away if you can’t walk. Do you understand me?”

His words bring tears to your eyes, which you try to hold back, blinking furiously. You remain silent, one last show of defiance.

It doesn’t mean anything; you know it won’t amount to anything. But you do it anyway, so that you can convince yourself that you at least tried to fight back in some small way.

Shota’s grip tightens, his fingers cutting off your oxygen, and you give up, frantically nodding, slapping at his hand in an attempt to wordlessly communicate.

He hums then, deep and contemplative, before letting go of your throat and kissing you once again, more deeply than before. His hand slides back down your chest, coming to rest in the valley between your breasts. It feels as though he’s pinning you down, though there’s no pressure behind his touch.

Hizashi mutters something under his breath before returning to work with gusto.

Within minutes, you’re nearing your peak once more.

You’ve given up on fighting them, but you don’t engage with them either.

They take what they want, and one harsh suckle on your clit and a well-timed prod with Hizashi’s fingers deep inside you have you slipping over the edge, body shaking as you let out unrestrained moans. Shota had pulled away the moment he realised you were about to cum, letting your moans echo throughout the room as Hizashi continued to help you ride out your orgasm.

Your breathing is heavy and uneven, and you stare up at the ceiling in shame.

These men were bad people. They’d done horrible things to you. They’d hurt you, physically and mentally. 

Why had you enjoyed that?

Shota stands and makes his way to the opposite end of the room. You don’t have a chance to see exactly what he’s doing because Hizashi sits up and shifts your body to the side, turning you until your head lays near the side of the bed.

He crawls up your body, coming to rest on his knees between your legs. His hands still softly massage your thighs, sliding up your hips and coming to rest on the curve of your waist.

You know what’s coming next.

As much as you’d like to deny it, believe otherwise, or fight back, you know what’s coming.

Hizashi pulls you towards him, slotting himself between your legs before lifting your thighs to rest them on his hips. His fingers stroke the skin of your waist, perhaps in what he believes to be a comforting motion. He must see the worry on your face.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, you’ll enjoy this.”

His hips glide forwards, his cock slipping between your folds and coating itself in a mixture of his spit and your slick. His cock head catches on your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

As he pushes the thick head of his cock to your entrance, Shota reappears, stopping next to your head.

You’re babbling out nonsense now. You think you might be begging them. You’re not sure.

His heavy cock slides into your pussy with an uncomfortable pop and you cry out. He doesn’t stop though, doesn’t wait for you to adjust. He pushes forward, his cock shoving through the tight rings of muscle.

Your cries and pleas are muffled when Shota taps the bulbous head of his dick on to your lips, a silent demand for you to open your mouth.

The protest lies on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t want to make the situation any worse than it already is.

Resigning yourself to your fate, you open your mouth and Shota surges forward, shoving his thick length down your throat. He isn’t as gentle as Hizashi.

Eventually, both men bottom out, and thankfully pause for a moment, letting you adjust. The tip of Hizashi’s cock lays snuggly against your cervix, kissing the entrance painfully.

Where Hizashi is slightly longer, Shota is thicker. His dick fills your mouth, your throat, and you struggle to breath. Your jaw aches from the stretch. Both men are uncomfortably large, both long and thick, and you can’t stop a few tears from escaping.

Hizashi rubs slow, gentle eight-figures into your clit, trying to get you to relax. Shota wipes away the few tears you managed to shed.

Their patience wanes and they move in sync, both men pulling back and snapping their hips forward sharply at the same time.

The movement knocks the air out of your lungs, and you’re almost certain that you feel them tearing you in half, touching in the middle of you. Hizashi pounds painfully against your cervix.

All self-restraint leaves the room as they feel you clench around them, and they set a harsh, bruising pace.

They continue on, oblivious to your discomfort.

The only sounds filling the room are their harsh pants, the slap of skin on skin, and the wet squelch of your pussy. Occasionally, the sound of you gagging echoes out as well, particularly when the head of Shota’s dick hits the back of your throat.

There’s a brief pause, one in which you hope that they’ve decided you’ve been punished enough. You’re not that lucky though, and they pull out only to flip you over and onto your stomach. Hizashi pulls your hips back and up, shoving his cock back into your dripping pussy and returning to his hammering pace almost immediately.

Shota is slower, threading his fingers through your hair, gathering it up into a makeshift ponytail before gently stroking your cheek, the look in his eyes almost loving. It leaves as quickly as it appeared, and he’s back to shoving his length down your throat, cock head tapping the back of your throat harshly, your nose touching his pelvic bone and the patch of dark hair around the base of his dick.

Hizashi’s grip on your waist is painful, fingers imprinting into the soft flesh despite how gentle he was earlier. Shota is the opposite, tenderly petting your hair, acting as if he wasn’t currently suffocating you, bruising your oesophagus.

You gag and try desperately to breathe through your nose, tears and spit covering your face. Your hands grip Shota's thighs, trying to steady yourself, nails digging into the firm muscles that lay beneath his skin.

Despite the uncomfortable position and the brutal pace the two men have taken up, you feel a second orgasm begin to stir deep in your lower belly. Hizashi seems to sense it too, leaning forward to lay his upper body over your own, one hand shifting to in between your legs to harshly rub at your clit, the other wrapping around your waist possessively.

Shota is the first to cum, his head tipped back as he lets out a deep groan, one that rumbles in his chest, his hips stuttering as cum floods to the back of your throat. You choke and splutter as he stills his hips, staying still as the last spurts of cum drain from his cock.

Hizashi’s breath is warm on your neck, tickling you as he lays soft, fleeting kisses on the back of your neck.

“Swallow it,” he whispers in your ear, gently nibbling at the shell of your ear.

When you don’t follow his order, he cruelly tweaks your clit, making you cry out with Shota’s cock still deep down your throat.

“I said, swallow it.”

You do.

It’s salty and thick, and you cough harshly as Shota slowly pulls out of your mouth, patting your head with a satisfied smile.

“Open, let’s see.”

Your mouth drops open, tongue lolling out as you stare up at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

Shota appreciates the sight, shoving his middle and ring fingers into your mouth, pushing down on your tongue. At the same moment, Hizashi hits a soft, spongy spot deep inside you and you moan out, eyes rolling back in your head.

Both men groan deeply, Hizashi letting out a low fuck under his breath.

He shifts his position, sitting upright and pulling you towards him, sitting you upright on his lap before slamming his hips up against your own, increasing the tight circles he rubs onto your oversensitive clit.

What sends you over the edge is Shota leaning forward and taking your breasts into his calloused hands, fingers swiping over your sensitive nipples, tweaking, and twisting them. He seems to contemplate something for a moment before sucking a nipple into his mouth, teeth gently nipping and rolling it around. The sting is soothed by his tongue as it flattens over the hardened bud, swiping in an upwards motion.

A well-timed thrust from Hizashi and a cruel tug at your clit sees you falling over the edge, crying out as you tangle your hands in Shota’s hair, holding him close to your chest and you grind down onto Hizashi’s hardened cock still pounding into you, prolonging your orgasm.

Hizashi follows soon after you do, your spasming walls milking every last drop of thick, creamy cum out of his twitching cock. He pulls out with a wet plop after a moment, breathing heavily onto the back of your neck, laying a sloppy, wet kiss there before releasing his bruising grip from your hips.

Shota moves away from your chest then too, with one last twist of an over-sensitive nipple.

Without the support of the two men keeping you upright, you flop forward as if your bones are made of jelly. Shota laughs lightly, hand still petting your hair. Hizashi stands and makes his way to the ensuite bathroom as Shota shifts you so that you’re laying comfortably with your head on a pillow.

Hizashi returns moments later holding a damp wash cloth, handing it to Shota before grabbing a few bottles of water from the minifridge near his side of the large bed.

Shota sits on the bed between your legs, opening them to gently wipe at your still sensitive cunt. Your legs twitch and shake despite how careful he is, and it makes the two men laugh. Hizashi props you up slightly, handing you an open bottle of water, encouraging you to drink.

The water is ice cold, and it feels as if it flows over your organs as you swallow. The vast difference in temperature calms your shaking hands.

When Shota finishes cleaning you and himself up, he joins you and Hizashi on the bed – Hizashi on your right, Shota on your left.

The two men cuddle you between them, and the silence that has settled over the room is crushing. You feel their stares boring into you.

You wonder how long they’ll make you wait until they speak up. They seem content for the moment, staring down at you, holding you close to them.

“You did well – you handled your punishment better than I thought you would have, I’m proud of you.”

Shota’s words bring you little comfort, especially with his grip tightening around your waist when he continues speaking.

“That being said, your punishment is far from over. It wouldn’t have gotten to this point if you had just accepted being locked outside for a few hours yesterday, but the fact that you decided to try to run away – in the middle of a punishment no less – that shows that you clearly don’t understand why you’re being punished in the first place.”

It’s silent for a moment, then he continues.

“The fact that you put yourself in danger like that is the biggest problem, and you will be disciplined for it once you recover.”

On your other side, Hizashi speaks up, sharing his thoughts as well, his hold on you tensing.

“Yeah, we’re plenty mad about that - running off in the snow like that was stupid. But even though you made your punishment worse yesterday, you did well today. Sho and I, we’re both so happy that you finally decided to accept us. It may not seem like it right now, but we’ve just made a lot of progress. Like Sho just said, we’re proud of you.”

He places a gentle, loving kiss on your lips.

You remain silent. Despite their words, you don’t feel content.

Deep down, you know that you’ve just given up a part of yourself, something that you will never be able to get back.

The love-filled kisses you receive from the two men shatter whatever hope you had left.

Something inside of you breaks, and it’s crushed to dust.

Because you know that they’re right.

And that hurts more than anything they could have done, any punishment they could have imposed upon you.

[inuhalfdemon]

No One Can Know... (13/?)

Word Count = 3,883 Words

Rating = Mature (Sexual Content/Humor)

Chapter 13

I know we said that sex isn't love

But it seems like enough for us

I know we said that we're having fun

But, I'm getting too numb to your touch

- BAD OMENS

Fanart posted in fic belongs to:

@honestlynotgonnalie (Tumblr)

@honestlygonalie (X/Twitter)

Please stop by and give the artist some love!!!

Alastor gave an exaggerated groan. “Ugh, this is most unpleasant.” He said, sinking himself further into the hot water and foaming bubbles; his arms draped limply over the sides of the extravagant clawfoot bathtub, his legs fully outstretched and submerged as he leant back languidly – completely relaxed.

“Funny, I was just thinking that you looked like you actually might be enjoying yourself.” Lucifer told him; he laid reclined against Alastor in the tub; his head resting on Alastor’s lower chest, looking up at him. “You’re certainly less skeptical now.”

“Well, when you asked me to ‘take a bubble bath’ with you; I assumed it was something sexual that you were wanting.” Alastor remarked.

“From ‘bubble bath’?”

“Luci…most everything you talk about is sexual. I really don’t think that I was very far off the mark when I took your offer with a fair bit of caution.”

“Hm, true.” Lucifer allowed. “And, I mean…we are both naked.”  He added suggestively.

“There is it is.”

Lucifer chuckled. “I’m surprised you humored me, actually.”

“I’m not opposed to trying new things, and all kidding aside, this is quite lovely; especially after the week we’ve had.”

It had been a week since the hotel had begun making its preparations in defending against Heaven’s planned attack. Three weeks until extermination. All residents had taken on extra duties and tasks in preparing Rosie’s cannibals for the onslaught, fortifying and re-fortifying defenses, assembling and distributing weapons and carefully evaluating their strategic plans when applied to a wide variety of possible in-battle scenarios.

“So, bubble baths are a new thing for you?” Lucifer asked, half-teasing.

“No, not really. But, having a bubble bath with the King of Hell…that’s something novel.”

Lucifer tilted his head; then, he shifted himself forward his back leaning away from Alastor now, absently swirling water and bubbles with one claw.

He was getting better at reading Alastor’s tastes in….intimacy. He knew Alastor was naturally independent, that he was often touch-averse and felt easily smothered if too much attention was directed toward him; physically and emotionally. However, his mood was a spectrum and it varied greatly; even from moment to moment, but he had subtle indicators that Lucifer was learning to pick up on that clued him in to what he might expect.

His ears seemed to be the best tell-tale. If Alastor was feeling especially touch-averse; his ears would stand up, perfectly straight – neither rotating, flicking, lifting or raising; never reacting to things said or things done around him. Lucifer suspected that Alastor – whether intentionally or unintentionally – refused to outwardly express himself in these moments. The fact that Alastor kept his tail constantly hidden – for the most part - made Lucifer believe that it was intentional, namely due to the fact that his tail was a dead give-away to his moods, it’s movements likely more involuntary in it’s signaling. If Alastor was feeling open to being touched; his ears were all over the place – constantly moving, tweaking or turning; openly and overtly expressing himself.    

The trouble with reading Alastor, though, was that he was rarely one way or the other. He often gave mixed signals; the expressions on his face – apart from the eternal smile – and the expressions of his ears regularly contradicted each other, and it was hard knowing which one was genuine. More often than not, it seemed that Alastor himself couldn’t tell what kind of a mood he might be in until they were already doing things. Alastor often tolerated some touch but rarely felt like being intimate. Lucifer, himself, craved touch and affection so they both were left with finding creative ways to meet each other’s needs partway. Alastor worried that this might prove frustrating to Lucifer, but so far, the angel seemed pleased to have a challenge to occupy his time and mind with. 

The bubble bath they currently were enjoying together was just one example of this. As intimate as it was: Lucifer’s only physical contact with Alastor was the touch they shared simply by being with each other; Lucifer sitting or lying against Alastor in the tub. Lucifer wasn’t being invasive to Alastor with the exploration of his hands; nor did Lucifer press him for anything like it. It was something that – for now – suited them both perfectly.

Alastor shifted behind him and Lucifer turned to look when a sizeable tentacle lifted itself; emerging and dripping wet form the water. It hovered for a moment before rising and sliding over the edge of the bathtub and slithered itself beside two rubber ducks Lucifer had sitting decoratively on a bathroom counter. The tentacle curled around the little ducks; picking them up and pulling them to Alastor.

“So what’s with these anyway?” He asked. “I’m very curious to know.”

Both ducks were made to have cutesy little bath caps on, different only in the colors of the caps. Alastor regarded both with sharp and interested eyes before the tentacle stretched and flicked; dropping both ducks into floating and bobbing in the water with them.

“Uh…nothing. They’re…well, it’s really just a stupid little hobby…you know.” Lucifer shrugged against Alastor; poorly feigning nonchalance.

“Mmmm…’stupid’ is not a word I would have thought to use.” Lucifer turned, looking back over his shoulder at Alastor.

“You’ve clearly spent a great deal of time and thought in making them – and there are many. They must be important to you, significant - in some way…” Alastor explained. His tentacle was slithering in and out of the water; playfully moving around the ducks like it was some sea monster of lore; threatening their little lives. “I would be more inclined to call it…endearing more than anything.”   

Even Alastor was able to admit to himself that Lucifer’s nonsensical, naïve and childish parts of his personality were starting to grow on him. But, much like Alastor…Lucifer had his own puzzles to be worked out; and Alastor had every intention of finding and completing each one.

Lucifer sighed; lifting one of the ducks into his hand – water trickling between his fingers as he held and tilted it.

“My original angelic form – my natural form – was something very similar to a duck. I lost it when I…when we fell from Heaven. I can’t even shapeshift myself into a regular duck. I started making them as a kind of a joke and fun little gifts for Charlie when she was smaller but then, I uh…I don’t know. I got good at making them and they made me feel like…like I was doing something; creating something for an intent that could never be misread as nefarious or result in any true form of failure if I made a mistake.”

Alastor listened; absorbing his words in silence.

“Heh, like I said…it’s stupid.” Lucifer slid his hand back into the water and the little duck bobbled over to its counterpart.

Alastor’s tentacle lifted itself from the water; touching Lucifer’s face and turning it so that he was looking directly into Alastor’s face.

“No. It’s remedial and it’s beautiful.” Alastor told him, softly. “Take pride, my King. There is strength in healing.”

Alastor’s tentacle released him and Lucifer looked back to the ducks; feeling the sting of tears - and a small smile on his face.

“Can I ask you a question now?” Lucifer poked at one of the ducks; sending it bobbing away from him.

“You may.” Alastor allowed; his smile genuine.

“What is it that you be gaining from your deal with Lilith? If not power…what exactly do you want when you are all done with this?” 

“She hasn’t told you?”

“No, she wouldn’t.” Lucifer shook his head. “She takes her deals in private and keeps them that way; even from me. I’m also not the sort of person that would ask her to tell me something like that.”

“Hm…well, please forgive me; but I’d rather keep that fresh little tidbit between Lilith and myself.” Alastor was playing with the ducks again; this time he was using his tentacle to swirl water into a miniature whirlpool; the ducks sliding in and spinning in a chaotic fashion.

“Somehow, I thought you would say that.” Lucifer turned, giving Alastor a narrowed and suspicious look.

Alastor laughed.

“You’re free to offer up any theories you may have; I’d quite like to know what you come up with. What I will tell you is: I doubt it’s nearly as nefarious as you might expect.” He paused. “Then again, that may be partially untrue. I could just be biased.”

“That makes…no sense.”

“Yes, well, I do love to be shrouded in mystery.” Alastor chuckled. “But, do get to know me better, Luci, and I’m sure you could venture a guess.”

“Isn’t that what we are already doing?” Lucifer asked him.

“Why, yes. Yes, it is.” Alastor replied, obviously unwilling to say much more on the subject Lucifer was prying him for.

“You’re such a dick sometimes.”

Alastor snickered at this.

Moving; he pulled Lucifer into him – holding the angel firmly against his naked torso.

“Quite, right too.” He said, lowly.

Done with the ducks; his tentacle dipped below the water and bubbles in the bath; snaking itself in-between Lucifer’s legs.

Lucifer tensed as it briefly touched him; sliding itself against his hidden but erect length.

Alastor sighed; his breath wafting against Lucifer’s wet skin as Alastor leant his head down.

“Have you been this hard for me this entire time, your grace?” He clucked his tongue. His grip tightening; holding Lucifer firmly to him as the tentacle slowly and purposefully wrapped itself around the devil’s shaft.

“Let me take care of that for you….”

Lucifer gulped.

“No zapping.” He quipped.

Alastor chuckled darkly against him.

“No zapping.” He promised, moving the tendril – pushing and pulling, sliding and slipping…

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

The next morning found them in Alastor's room at the Hazbin Hotel; both beside the small dining table that Alastor kept placed within his personal bayou.

Alastor stood with Lucifer – without his jacket and wearing shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows; drinking his coffee while Lucifer tried to make heads-or-tails of the doodling Alastor had done. The messily made sketches were for the plans involving the first few waves of cannibals who would be defending the hotel.

His steaming teacup forgotten, Lucifer leaned closer - trying to mentally separate the strategic notes scribbled into the drawings from the chaotic mess of doodles depicting: torn off wings, decapitated heads and a very concerning amount of bright yellow blood that was supposed to be coming from the angels that were being ripped apart by a hoard of cannibalistic demons.

"There is something wrong with you." Lucifer sighed, giving up all show for efforts when he noted the detailed doodle in the corner that he could only assume was: caricatures of Alastor and the Overlord Rosie, both enjoying the spilled intestines and organs of an eviscerated Adam; dining together as if he were a main course pasta they were sharing while at some high ended restaurant.  

Alastor flashed him a wide and insane grin before there was a knock at the door. 

They both froze, looking at each other with the exact same expression and nodding to each other. Lucifer waved his hand and the tea and cup he had had on the table vanished. With a soft poof, he turned into a small white snake and quickly slithered himself into a large bunch of reeds growing nearby. Alastor's shadow went with him, offering further concealment. 

Alastor crossed from the bayou, into the main room and opened the door to his room. 

"Why, Charlie!" He greeted happily. "To what do I owe the pleasure!?" 

"Hey, Al!" Charlie smiled back at him, seeming a bit nervous. 

"I know it's been a very busy week already and there's still lots more to be done,” Charlie acknowledged. “But, Vaggie and I were thinking that it might be good to keep up with some of the bonding and trust-building activities we had going, to...you know, build up some camaraderie among the ‘troops’!" She cheerily word-vomited at him, throwing a mock swinging punch there at the end for unnecessary emphasis.  

"I think it is a grand idea, my dear." 

"You do?" Charlie asked him, waiting for the backslide. 

"Of course! Nothing like a good rallying before a battle!" 

"Oh, well...yeah, that's the idea." Charlie smiled as she pulled a loose strand of her hair back, feeling pleased by his support. 

Lucifer's snake form lifted its head, tilting it back and forth in a mocking gesture and rolling its eyes. Alastor wasn't sure if Lucifer realized it were possible, but Alastor could clearly see the sassy display through the proximity of his shadow.  

"I actually hoped that...well, I'd very much like it if you came. We've missed you at the last several ones - I know you've been busy, of course! I didn't mean-" 

"But, of course, I'll come! Why, I'd be delighted to!" He told her, enthusiastically. "Anything to get me out of another godforsaken strategic meeting with your father. You know how I just abhor the man..." 

"You were meeting with my dad today?" 

"That was the plan, but I'd much rather kiss a basilisk if I’m being honest." 

Lucifer tilted his head, trying to decide if that was an insult or a compliment. 

"When is this activity you have planned?" 

"We're hoping to have everyone gathered in the lobby in one hour." 

"Splendid! I will most unfortunately have to reschedule something with your father.” Alastor actually giggled. “Oh, don’t look so disappointed for the man. There will be plenty of time for such unpleasantries." 

"Was my dad coming here? " 

"Mmm, yes. Yes he was. " 

"What if you asked him to join us?" Charlie asked him, tentatively. "I know you both don't always get along but he's helping with all of the preparations too...it might be good for everyone to get to know him better and he can see more of what I'm aiming to do..." She continued. "Then, after we're done, you both should still have plenty of time to discuss those plans you were wanting to. Sir Pentious is heading fortifications today and Angel's going to be teaching the cannibals some basic brawling stuff with Husk so we should be covered." 

Alastor gave her his widest, pointiest and false-ist smile – clenching his teeth - knowing it made him look insanely unhappy about the idea, but still having to smile through it all anyway...: "Lovely..." His radio voice crackled sharply.

Lucifer's snake form flicked his tongue, agitated as he watched Alastor manipulate his daughter with such smoothness. 

"Hehe." She laughed nervously. "Cool beans, I'll see you at the meeting." 

Charlie stepped away and Alastor closed the door.

He walked back to the table within the bayou. Lucifer slithered out from the reeds, pausing beside the table. Alastor's shadow darted past and dipped to another dark corner of the room. 

Lucifer's snake form lifted itself, hissing at Alastor. "You really ssssssssssuck ssssssssssssometimessssss, you know that?" 

"Do you really have to exaggerate your S's like that while in that form?" 

"No." 

"Then, ssssssssstop it." Alastor spat his own tongue out at the snake, wiggling the end of it in a suggestive manner.

"Hey!" Lucifer's snake head turned, as if feeling flustered by the gesture. 

"I didn't know snakes could blush like that." Alastor teased him. "It's rather cute." 

"I will crawl up your leg and bite your balls if you-" 

"What's got your tail all in a knot? I thought you wanted to spend time with Charlie." 

"I do, and I have been since she first invited me here! But...." Lucifer shifted form and Alastor could see that he was visibly stressed.

"It's a....social event....gathering.....thing. I'm not good at those." 

"Really, I never could have guessed." Alastor deadpanned. 

"It's not funny, Al!" Lucifer barked at him. "I get all...anxious and sweating and I –“ He gripped the lapels of his jacket. “And, I'm really trying with Charlie but, I still can't talk about the hotel and the other residents already have this warped perception of who I am or who I should be and-" 

Alastor leaned over, reached for Lucifer and pulled him to him; kissing him hard on the mouth. Lucifer froze; having to take deep breaths in through the nose when Alastor didn’t let him go right away. When Alastor did release him, Lucifer was left dazed and blinking but…quiet.

“Better?” Alastor asked him, a small smirk on his face.

“Yes…thank you.”

“Don’t get so hung up on all that small stuff. Charlie knows that you’re trying and who gives a fuck what the others think. Besides,” Alastor tilted his head; smiling wickedly. “I plan on being such a total and complete ass to you, down there; you’ll have your hands full as it is.”

Lucifer gave him a small smile.

“You know…”Lucifer started and Alastor rolled his eyes, already knowing where this was headed. “We’ve got lots of time before-“

“No.” Alastor told him, firmly. “But, what we could do is: go over the actual strategical plots and plans I have made instead of me just fucking around with you all morning.” He grinned.

“Oh, you…little prick.”

Alastor chuckled and snapped his fingers. The doodles on the table were sent away; replaced by various documents for them to study and peruse over until Charlie’s planned activity. 

An hour later, everyone was gathered into the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel.

Charlie and Vaggie had set out two large, long tables with some chairs for the residents to use; stacks of paper and cups filled with crayons, pencils and pens all placed throughout. Lucifer was already happily chatting with the two women when Alastor strolled through the door and into the room; a giggling Niffty perched atop his head.

“First off, I want thank each and every one of you for all of the hard work you’ve been doing to get things ready for…well, for the upcoming extermination day.” Charlie flinched once she said it but then pressed forward. “There’s a lot more to do of course but I thought it might also be really important to work on some solid team building! You all know each other a little, of course. What I want you to do today is: draw or write something about another person that you find most significant or valuable in them as an individual; what about that person is special to you? I also think it best if we split up into assigned pairs: Vaggie and Cherri can be one…Angel and Husk, Sir Pentious and Niffty; and then Alastor and my dad!”

The groups started forming; Vaggie and Cherri bumped fists while Angel and Husk exchanged smiles. Niffty’s grin widened; showing a row of razor sharp teeth before she excitedly leapt to Alastor’s shoulder, darting down and joining Sir Pentious.  

Of course… Lucifer thought to himself, dryly.

Lucifer sighed; moodily going to sit down in a seat at one of the tables. Setting his hat and jacket down, he slipped a piece of paper from one of the stacks, staring at the blank surface.

Vaggie watched him go; then saying something to Cherri, she moved over to Charlie.

“Hey, hun. Can I talk to you for a second?” After pulling Charlie to the side she asked, “Are you sure this is such a good idea?” She pointedly looked to the table where Lucifer was seated.

As they were talking, Alastor smoothly drifted into shadow; slipping down into the floor and lifting up again to rise and materialize at the other side of the table; across from Lucifer. Using one claw; Alastor dragged the blank piece of paper over to him; reaching for a crayon with his free hand. He toppled the cup; ignoring the mess of scattered pens and pencils – he concentrated on his scribbling.

“I mean, we talked about this, Vaggie, and you agreed with me that we should try make sure everyone was involved in the activity.”

“Yes, but I didn’t realize your dad would be coming…” Vaggie told her with concern “Alastor and your dad? They barely stand each other as it is… There’s other pairings we could make.”

Lucifer leaned on one elbow, staring boredly off into space. Curious, he glanced down at what Al was working on but Alastor slid his hand over the doodle; preventing Lucifer from seeing it. Rolling his eyes; he turned away.

Fanart by @honestlynotgonnalie

“I know that Vaggie but…in a few weeks they are going to be fighting with each other…it’s kind of important that they learn to get along. Besides, they’ve been strategizing formational plans together...how much could they really dislike each other?”

Finished with his doodling; Alastor set his crayon down and flipped the page up. Smiling widely with eyes pressed closed; he proudly presented his piece to Lucifer:

Alastor had doodled a goofy looking caricature of Lucifer: depicting Lucifer with a rather large head and a much smaller body. Drawn beside the doodle made was a small arrow – pointing to the messy sketch of Lucifer from the words, scrawled beneath, that read: “WIFELESS”.

Fanart by @honestlynotgonnalie

“I don’t know…maybe strategizing is all the bonding they need.” Vaggie suggested.

Turning his head; Lucifer saw the drawing; taking in its meaning. Without hesitating he glared at Alastor and flipped him the bird. Alastor’s smiled widened; peeking a look at the King’s response narrowly from his left eye.

Fanart by @honestlynotgonnalie

“It’s…important to me that they learn to work it out.” Charlie confessed to Vaggie. “I honestly think they could really get along if they gave each other a chance.”

Vaggie sighed. “You know your dad better than anyone. As for Alastor…” Vaggie leaned past Charlie; watching as Alastor quickly set his drawing down; adding to it with the crayon and flipping it back up for Lucifer to see. He displayed the exact same doodle; only now it had a middle finger added to one of the stick-ish hands. “Well, nobody knows Alastor. Let’s try it your way. See what happens.” Vaggie gave in. 

Vaggie went back to where Cherri was and the group activity proceeded.

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

Later, when it came to present their projects:

“Uh, what am I loo-, oh fuck.” Vaggie.

“Ah, fucking shit!” Cherri – happily laughing.

“Oh, dear…” Sir Pentious, lifting Niffty and covering her eye.

“Whoa…”  Angel – eyes wide and a large smile stretching across his face.

Husk stepped away; carefully restraining any response he had to the intricate sketch that Lucifer had made.

Charlie squeezed in beside everyone, wondering what all the fuss was about.

“Wha-“ Charlie gasped and then hissed; “DAD!!!”

Lucifer and Alastor were standing apart from the group. Lucifer was standing with his back straight – chest out, and a wide toothy smile across his beaming face, clearly proud of himself. Alastor stood bent, leering very closely to his face…a dangerously dark look to his insane and smiling face, one eyelid very visibly twitching.

Lucifer had sketched a remarkable rendition to Swiss artist Henry Fuseli’s oil painting: The Nightmare. Only it wasAlastor who was depicted lying across the bed in a suggestive manner rather than a woman; his tentacles curled and rising around him in place of the typically symbolic incubus and horse. One tentacle held what looked to be his staff – the end of it aimed and placed directly into a rather obscene bodily location.

Lucifer had titled the intricate sketch: The Dildo

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

The Nightmare:

Chapter 14

[cure-icy-writes]

Regarding the transgender and autistic coding of Octodad: Dadliest Catch.

To preface: this essay will be in two parts. One with spoilers, and one without. The spoilers will be hidden under a cut, and optional. 

Octodad: Dadliest Catch is a 2014 action/adventure game in which the protagonist, known only as “Octodad”, is an octopus masquerading as a human man. If it sounds ridiculously goofy, that’s because it is. Octodad rarely takes itself seriously, and that works to its credit.

Now, before going any further, I want to take a moment to lay some groundwork for the premise of the game and how it relates to otherness. Octodad, being an octopus, is fundamentally Other. He is a nonhuman in disguise, he is living a lie, et cetera. The concept of beings that disguise themselves as human is an old one, from Greek gods seeking hospitality to changelings left behind as supernatural brood parasites. They are shapeshifters and deceivers, whose stories are born from the fear of Otherness. And more often than not, these beings have malicious intent.

But Octodad, fundamentally, does not. He is a loving father and husband who hides his identity out of fear. He is Other, and this otherness isn’t portrayed as predatory or evil in any way. And viewing this story through the lens of Octodad, controlling his actions, the player gets to know a little bit about him.

Back to the trailer— Octodad’s gameplay is showcased, and it’s immediately obvious that the control scheme isn’t exactly typical. Players must control each limb individually, resulting in sloppy, uncoordinated movements. Octodad stumbles through the grocery store, across a play set, leaving destruction in his wake. He isn’t trying to make a mess, unlike a certain goose, but rather, this is the natural result of what he is. He’s literally a fish out of water— and yes, he is a fish if you’re pedantic enough about cladistics, which I am going to be for the sake of this metaphor. 

The control scheme is deliberately messy, a stylistic choice that forces the player to constantly remember that Octodad is something Other, and the resulting mistakes have consequences. The levels are designed in such a way that even an experienced player will have to make a mess at times, and it comes with a sense of shame— after all, a normal protagonist could do this. Mario could platform his way through this grocery store with no problem! But Octodad can’t. He slips on banana peels and breaks open crates and spills fruit all over the linoleum. And the UI forces you to be constantly aware of when others are watching, furthering that sense of shame.

The game won’t punish you for slipping up sometimes. But the mess you’ve made, the judgmental gazes of the NPCs, will. You are an imposter, facing a constant uphill battle to perform difficult and unnatural tasks that are effortless for the humans around you. They cannot see that you’re an octopus. They do not know that you’re an octopus. So long as you are wearing your suit, no one can tell, even with the tentacles and bulbous head and suckers on your limbs. But they can see your mistakes, and your failures.

How does that relate to autism and transgenderism? Well, let’s start with autism, since the transgender coding is mostly in story spoiler territory, while the autism is largely in the gameplay mechanics. Autism is a pretty broad spectrum, and it’s difficult to point at something and definitively call it autistic-coded when the autistic experience varies so drastically from person to person. But Octodad and his Otherness, even as a silly octopus, strongly parallels autistic masking.

Octodad’s enforced sense of shame strongly resonates with the autistic experience— constantly aware of eyes on you, always messing up because no one explained the rules to you properly, or struggling with sensory issues or executive dysfunction when everyone is trying to convince you that your experiences are normal and you’re just being dramatic. And in that sense, it’s cathartic to see Octodad, because he is unmistakably and undeniably Other. You cannot say “Oh, honey, everyone’s a little octopus, you’re just not trying hard enough,” to an octopus the way that neurotypicals often do with autistic people. You cannot deny him his Otherness which causes his struggles.

Remember the changeling story I mentioned earlier? Changeling myths and autism are inextricably connected, and far too often, they demonize autism. The problem with trying to define humanity in a way that excludes imposters that pretend to be human is that you will inevitably end up excluding and hurting people, particularly those who are neurodivergent, queer, disabled, or otherwise in a minority. So, if you cannot define humanity without excluding humans from the definition, then it serves to reason that broadening your scope will include non-humans. And this is portrayed as an unambiguously good thing, to acknowledge the humanity of an octopus.

Real life isn’t like Among Us, where the imposters are murderous freaks who unhinge their jaws and chomp off the top half of their fellow crewmates before hopping into the vents. Sometimes, they’re scared people who go through life hurting because they tried to be normal until they forgot who they were.

And now, let’s examine the story and talk about the further coding it contains. The first thing that catches my attention is Octodad’s morning routine— coffee. It seems innocuous at first, but it’s later revealed that this is the only reason Octodad has the ability to walk upright, because he’s constantly self-medicating with caffeine.

There’s a very domestic portion of the game where you see just how much Octodad adores his family, he does the chores for his wife whom he loves a lot, and then— he survives a couple murder attempts. His neighbor knows he’s an octopus, is a chef at the local grocery store, and is the main antagonist of the game. He breaks down the fence between their yards with some sort of nightmarish combine-harvester machine that nearly sucks in Octodad, but the situation is resolved quickly enough. Then, just a little later in the day, he goes out to the grocery store, where the chef finds him and chases him with a knife, threatening to turn him into moderately priced sushi. Interestingly, though, is the fact that Octodad seems more worried about his wife finding out than the fact that he’s an octopus than the threats on his life. We don’t know how often these happen, but he just brushes this off and hopes to keep up the masquerade a little longer. He has to be human, he has to be normal in order to be loved, and nearly dying alone to his murderous neighbor is a small price to pay. And… it’s sad, honestly.

The real meat of the game, though, is at the aquarium. Octodad is frankly terrified of this place, but he can’t tell his wife why. There was a scene that stuck with me— it’s meant to introduce you to the fact that the Biologist enemies are a threat who will recognize and out you, but it made me think about TERFs. They always claim they can spot trans people, as if there’s some secret sense for it, as if a world in which women are subject to random and invasive genital inspections is somehow better than a world where the lady in the bathroom stall next to you is standing up to pee.

After getting through the first part of the museum, Octodad has to find each member of his family and do some minigame puzzles. The kids are absolutely adorable, but what struck me was the conversation with Scarlet, as she grows frustrated with Octodad’s secrecy. He sleeps downstairs, he somehow “made more” when the printer ran out of ink, he lost a limb in a plumbing accident but it somehow grew back, and he’s keeping things from her. He won’t have an honest conversation, and she’s getting frustrated.

Take a moment to imagine the veneer of metaphor peeled away. Imagine you have been married to a man you love for ten years, but you know he’s hiding something from you. He doesn’t sleep in the same bed as you, never wanted to consummate things, and you’ve respected his privacy and consent, but he won’t explain why. He’s ecstatic about raising kids together, but he doesn’t want biological ones. There are these instances you can’t explain, like his sudden insistence on buying a shark plushie from IKEA, or the time you caught him mailing a tank top (was it a tank top, really, because you never got a good look at it) to someone and he looked guilty. You find a list of names, some of them crossed out, and wonder who these women are. He never wants to look in the mirror or have pictures taken. You love him and you want to respect his privacy, but the secrets are driving a rift between you.

Imagine it from the other side, now. You have been married to the woman you love for ten years. She doesn’t know you’re trans, and you’re terrified she’ll leave you if she finds out.. She didn’t seem to mind when you told her you didn’t want to get horizontal, but she doesn’t know it’s because sex in this body makes you dysphoric. You love your children so much, they’re the light and joy of your life, but you can’t help but wonder if your wife wanted to have them the old-fashioned way. You try to escape what you are but it’s getting harder to repress. You know she suspects something. You ended up with a binder, and sent it to someone you met online. You bought yourself a Blåhaj and you don’t know why it was that desperation had seized up in your chest when you saw it. You spent ages on name websites, looking for the perfect one, writing them down to see how they felt. You have the most amazing wife in the world and she is slipping away because you couldn’t keep pretending.

Scarlet asks Octodad to meet her at the shark tank when he’s ready to have a real conversation. And the shark tank is where things get interesting— the chef is there, waiting. He cuts off Octodad’s clothes with a cleaver, and tosses him into the tank, yelling, “Go back where you belong!”

The thing about the coding of Octodad is that it’s never a consistent one-to-one. That particular line? Could be read as immigrant coding, out of context. But then, looking at how easily he moves in the water compared to the flopping rag doll movements on land. He no longer has to mask, he no longer has to hide himself and navigate a world that is hostile and judgmental to him. 

And he’s miserable. He misses his family. And he’s determined to find them, and save them from the chef. So he sets off to do exactly that. 

There’s a series of objectives to complete to get there, but the one that stuck with me? Sneaking into the women’s bathroom. Granted, it’s for the purpose of going through the vents and causing a diversion in the break room, but it still strikes me that Octodad, who presents as a male human, has to sneak into the women’s restroom. And this is presented not as some scandalous affair of a peeping Tom, not a forbidden thing, but just an objective. That’s where the proper vents are, after all. 

On a sillier note? You walk into the aquarium in a shark suit, and you have to cause a diversion. So now, rather than Octodad’s clumsiness being a source of shame, it’s his strength, and it’s a point of pride. He’s an octopus! He’s excellent at making messes!

And then there’s the grand finale— it’s corny and dramatic and there’s a cafeteria on fire, and the truth is out. He’s an octopus.

And Scarlet? She says she was expecting so much worse. She loves her octopus husband exactly as he is, and no matter what adjustments she has to make, she knows her family will be stronger for it. Because now, she has the chance to love her husband in his entirety, in his Otherness, and she takes it.

Octodad is a story about an octopus walking around in a suit and pretending to be a normal human man, but it’s also a story about being closeted, masking, living in fear, and finally realizing that the love remains. That there are people who will love you as you are, genuinely and truly, tentacles and all.

[shepherds-of-haven]

hi i hope you're having a good day! this may be quite silly but i'm curious, what are some typical dances for the peoples of blest?

Hi there! This was actually sent in for the Patreon Q&A in April, but something horrible has happened to Patreon's site in the last several months, where after a certain amount of text, the text editor becomes horrifically laggy and crashes constantly, meaning I did all the work (i.e. watching so many medieval and ancient dancing videos and reading all about various cultures and their dances) to answer this question, but the website stubbornly would not let me type up my answer in the existing Q&A post... 🥹 So I kept losing all my progress on this one and ultimately ended up giving up, but I still wanted to answer it, so I hope it's okay that I answer here!

The short answer: the typical dances for the people of Blest obviously are going to vary widely between cultures as well as classes within those cultures. People from the southern isles dance quite differently from people in the Eastern Continent, who in turn dance differently from people in Jalis. I'm not going to cover too much of the kinds of dancing that we don't see much of in the game, though I will note that Ket and Hunter cultures tend to favor dancing more as a form of story-telling or individual expression (often seen in plays or festival rituals where specialized dancers are playing specific roles or parts), with elaborate costumes and dance techniques being employed in each culture (some traditional Ket dancers use fans and masks, Hunter dancers often dress in swirling costumes with rattling beads and employ hand-drums), rather than the communal dancing we might envision in, like, ballrooms or barnyard line-dancing. The Elves have a mix of both, with dance as "performance" as well as dance as "socializing" utilized in equal measure, and performative dancing is seen as a high art form that deeply utilizes perfectly synchronized music, color coordination, and movement to create mesmerizing group displays, almost like synchronized swimming or Cirque de Soleil type experiences. Mage culture, in general, doesn't put a lot of emphasis on dancing, as many Mages tend to trend introverted, solitary, or unathletic, so as a society it's not viewed as a really vital skill or even a part of their larger culture outside of the usual school/festival dancing, which isn't so much taught as it is just stumbled into.

Anyway, the two primary forms of dancing we seen in the game are what the nobles do and what the commonfolk do. I imagine dancing among aristocrats (formal balls, the Trade Minister's gala, parties at the Sun Court) to be pretty similar to what you'd see in Regency-Era dancing, with waltzes, quadrilles, and cotillons being the most common style.

However, it should be noted that the "English country dance" that was typical of the Regency era (where men and women form two lines, facing across from their partner, and are not permitted to dance alone as a couple, but side-by-side alongside others) is not something that is present in Blest. If you've seen any Austenian movies like P&P 2005, you know what I mean.

^ So not this!

It may factor into a dance a noble has to do once or twice in their lifetime, but it's pretty unusual, and a guest without a noble background (like Riel or the Shepherds at the Trade Minister's gala) wouldn't be expected to know it.

Among the commonfolk, dancing typically takes place during festivals and holidays, in the streets or on the village green or town square, not within a formal venue such as a ball. As such, there are really no formal moves or styles ascribed to this kind of dancing--it's primarily dictated by what kind of music is playing, and you basically just jam out to it however you want, in a group, couple, or as an individual--but the closest real-world equivalents I could liken it to would be the medieval carole or free-style polka. But there are no formalized rules other than basic proprietary/decency, and even then that can be pretty lax once the drink is flowing.

However, while I don't have any formal name for it, mostly I just imagine the dance scene from A Knight's Tale. :)

[avonne-writes]

After Gale's crisis (HS AU)

The lovely @freedomforthewin asked me if 1) Bucky gets nightmares of Gale not surviving after Broken Things and 2) if he wants to sleep in the same bed with Gale and cuddle him to keep him from slipping away. So I thought I'd expand on this a bit.

Original storyline (Gale doesn’t jump)

Although Gale didn’t jump off the bridge, Bucky gets nightmares of Gale dying. With varying frequency, he gets these well into his adult life. Each time, he has to wake Gale up to calm himself down, because Gale sleeping looks too much like death.

Bucky becomes clingy in general. He wants to be by Gale's side all the time. He’s even more physically affectionate than usual - holding hands, wrapping an arm around Gale, playing with his hair, he’s constantly trying to give Gale reassuring and loving touches.

Although affection feels nice most times, Bucky's clinginess clashes with Gale's need for personal space to process his emotions, so they have more fights than usual.

Related to this, Bucky does try to share a bed with Gale as often as Gale lets him, and always finds a position that allows him to embrace Gale.

Bucky initiates more deep conversations about feelings than before. He feels extremely guilty for not catching on how close to snapping Gale was, so he wants to encourage Gale to talk more about his feelings. This is really healing for Gale. He often ends up talking about his childhood, while before his crisis, he used to avoid the topic.

Bucky gets distracted at school, especially during the first few days after Broken Things, when he has to go back to school but Gale doesn’t. He texts Gale a lot and gets stressed if he doesn’t get a reply in a few minutes.

Alternate version (Gale jumps and survives)

Most of the above is also applicable for this version, just exacerbated by the severity of the situation.

But an important difference is that Gale sustained a spine injury from the jump, so he has to wear a back brace for months. His movement options are severely limited in the first few weeks, and he can’t lift anything. He’s not allowed to sleep with Bucky in the beginning because he shouldn't be jostled during the night. However, I can see Bucky choosing to sleep on an air mattress next to Gale's bed just to be with him.

Because of this spine injury, Bucky helps Gale with everything. He throws himself into caring for Gale. Helps him with getting dressed, moving, showering, everything. Georgia helps a lot too, of course, but Bucky gradually takes over.

Being helpless makes Gale feel awful. He’s cranky and frustrated all the time, hates himself, the world, everything. He doesn’t want to leave his bed due to his mental state, but Georgia and Bucky push him because he needs to try to increase his walking range.

In this alternate storyline, the long physical recovery and the severity of what happened put an extra strain on John and Gale’s relationship that might result in them breaking up eventually.

These are some of my thoughts about the aftermath of Gale's crisis. Do you guys have any additional ideas?

[shelaghdette]

headcanon with evidence: shelagh turner is autistic/neurodivergent!

intense interests: shelagh's special interest is obviously the science of midwifery. she's only 30 years old at the beginning of the series, but already her expertise is virtually on par with the older nuns. her deep knowledge is very well respected by her patients and colleagues. she also LOVES to talk about it, you can see her face light up every time she has a chance.

hyperfocus: when shelagh is completely absorbed in a task, she struggles to notice anything else around her. for example, in the very first episode, she doesn't even notice jenny is in the room when she comes to inform sister julienne about her latest delivery. when sister julienne introduces her to jenny, she only very briefly acknowledges her, and then goes back to talking about work, which ties into -

struggling with social cues: in scenes with lots of shelagh dialogue, notice how she struggles to make prolonged eye contact. a notable exception is sister julienne and, later, patrick, but this makes sense. a lot of autistic people struggle to make eye contact generally, but have a few "safe people" with whom it's a lot easier. shelagh also struggles with boundaries, indicated by her lack of ability to ask for help when she needs it or say no when she's asked to do something. she can also be very blunt and forthright about her opinions, such as when she tells jenny to "please stop wittering on about vegetables, i could not care less." she wasn't trying to be rude, she was just indicating her disinterest in the subject in a very to-the-point way. also, when she was infodumping about the bri-nylon nightie, and CLEARLY misunderstanding cues that patrick thought she was extremely sexy in that little get-up 😳😏

stimming: shelagh is CONSTANTLY stimming. most notable are her hand movements, she fidgets with her hands a lot, and when she sits at a table, she often keeps her hands below the surface. i believe this is so she can subtly stim without attracting attention. oh, and you know the autistic stereotype of velociraptor arms? well, i give you...

masking: she's a social chameleon. her speech mannerisms were much more formal and clipped while she was still in the religious life, because she was holding herself to a certain standard, even though it's not necessarily required (look at sister evangelina). i think she was trying to model her behaviour and mannerisms on sister julienne, which is SO COMMON for autistic women to copy the behaviour of someone they admire in order to blend. she also "mirrors" body language, seen here. (both have their hands in their pockets, their legs are the same width apart. also peep my babygirl not making eye contact AGAIN while he's directly looking at her face!)

exaggerated facial expressions and emotive tone of voice: it's a common misconception that autistic people always have monotonous voices and flat facial affect. some do, but just as many are the complete opposite and actually have really varied expressions and tones. ctm fans who don't like shelagh tend to point this fact out about her, but to me it just makes her relatable, because i'm a really emotive autistic person too!

also, this is just anecdotal, but all of my autistic friends who watch ctm agree with me that shelagh is most likely autistic. and we're really good at identifying autistic traits in others.

these are just my observations from watching the show, as an autistic person. if you don't share these views, that's fine! but please be mindful of what you say if you aren't neurodivergent ♡

[kaiyaninjago]

Sugary love ———— Lloyd x reader

𝖲𝗈𝗇𝗀－ 𝖮𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗒 𝖫𝖾𝖾𝗁𝗂 

Originally this was posted on my Wattpad (Kaiya_ninjago) as an au one-shot for my Ninjago oc Kaiya Yoshida, however I’ve decided that I’ll upload it to tumblr but turn it into a Lloyd x reader fic, enjoy <3

Key: reader is gender-natural

e/c- eye colour

h/c- hair colour

Y/n- your name

l/n- your last name

♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎

The eyes the same hue as e/c captivated him. 

They drew him in commanding him to admire every aspect of them, of the way her h/c haired bounced as she walked through the café trays filled with drinks and sweet treats in hand, how they continually had a smile that felt like the sun was rising whilst they greeted the varying customers, or how he could hear the soles of their converse connecting to the ground as they weaved her way through the café like it was second nature to them. 

Everything y/n did had Lloyd falling more and more in love with the them.

The movement of a hand quickly moving in-front his face brought his attention back to the real world, he had forgotten he wasn’t alone, he forgot he was meant to be hanging out with his friends, and they certainly noticed his day dreaming. He already had a suspicion that they knew what or who was on his mind, and that was something he didn’t want to admit them again so publicly especially not when the person who occupied his thoughts was near.

“Hellooooo earth to hopeless romantic” Kai, the one who had moved his hand infront of Lloyds face spoke up, a sneaky grin on his face as he watched the blond snap himself back to reality. His other friends snickered at Kai’s choice of words, and Lloyd was quick to correct his posture and stare eyes wide at the brunet friend. 

“I am not!” He loudly whispered, his eyes glanced behind him to make sure y/n wasn’t within hearing distance, his cheeks were a faint pink at his friend exclamation of him being a hopeless romantic. Thankfully the person constantly on his mind was preoccupied talking to a customer, dimples on show, laughing at something they had said, he wondered what they had said, wondered when he could hear the sweet symphony of their laugher embracing his ears, wondered when the moment would come for him to be the reason for that symphony.

“Oh so, your mind wasn’t focused on little mr/miss/mx waiter/waitress over there” Jay teased, a sickeningly sweet grin on his face and his eyebrows wiggled mockingly. Lloyd nearly leapt across the table to cover the lightning ninjas mouth, his cheeks darkened at his words and at being bluntly called out by his friends for him daydream. 

“Shush! Shut it, not another word” Lloyd mumbled once again glancing behind him to check that the h/c person hadn’t snuck up behind him and had overheard Jay’s tease. They were still on the opposite side of the room blissfully unaware of the conversation taking place at his table, he wanted it to stay that way. 

The clothed navy blue and white stripped elbow of Nya nudged Jay, a somewhat serious expression explored her features though Lloyd couldn’t help but see the small smirk growing, her cupids bow making itself more apparent “Why don’t you just tell them how you feel dude” 

Colour had never rushed to Lloyds cheeks that quickly before, and it took everything in him not to slam his head onto the table and complain at Nya’s words, that would’ve caused quite a scene and alert y/n to his distress. He’d prefer to deal with his friends teasing than for his crush to see him like this. 

“Yeah sure and while I’m at it, I’ll make a new realm” Lloyd chided, his eyebrows raised mockingly at them whilst his hand lifted his cup of hot chocolate towards his lips. The beverage itself had an outline of a funky looking frog sketched into the chocolate, the sketch wasn’t by choice. All of his friends glanced at each other at his words, only one of them decided to speak up. 

“Technically it isn’t impossible for you to create a new realm, you’re the grandson of the First Spinjitsu Master and are the closest elemental wise in becoming the succeeding…” Zane explained, his tone remained monotone whilst he spoke, his tinted aquamarine Nindroid eyes stared at Lloyd. The rest exchanged a bewildered expression with one another, Nya silently reminded herself that she really needed to upgrade his sarcasm levels cause this was getting embarrassing. 

The grandson in question was quick to intervene his eyes narrowing at the titanium friend, he slowly shaked his head, the hot chocolate carefully placed back onto the table “I was being sarcastic Zane” Lloyd leaned slightly onto the table resting his elbows onto the wooden furniture, he didn’t miss the way the Nindroid silently told him to move his elbows of the table, mother hen. 

“It’d be good to get it off your chest, just gotta rip it of like an old bandaid” Cole encouraged a warm smile explored the earth ninjas face, as well as crumbs from the Black Forest gateau he had been devouring simply moments ago. Lloyd titled his head at Cole’s words, did he compare y/n to a band aid? And an old one at that. 

A loud groan left Kai’s and Jay’s lips both of them squinting their eyes at the ninja with frosting around his lips, Lloyd saw how a few customers in the café slightly turned to look at the infamous ninjas when the noise escaped the fire and lightning ninja.

“Can you stop comparing relationships to an old bandaid!” Jay exclaimed, his face slightly distorted due to the annoyed expression that crossed it. If Lloyd wasn’t exasperated with the ninjas he would’ve taken a photo of Jays to remember the hilarious face he had pulled. Kai leaned over towards Cole and shaked his shoulders slightly quietly mumbling about how that is a horrible expression to use when describing feelings and that he should’ve learnt the first time not to use it. All Lloyd could do was slowly blink at his friends. 

“Not my fault I can’t think of any other sayings!” Cole whisper yelled still being slightly shaken by Kai, Lloyd wanted to curl up into a little tiny ball and disappear under the table never to be seen again. He glanced behind to see that y/n had since moved away from the customer they were talking to and was now out of his line of sight, he could only assume they were now in the kitchen preparing a substance for a customer. The blond released a sigh of relief at the lack of y/n. 

“Boys, back on topic” Nya sternly whispered to them circling them back to the conversation at hand, he would've preferred if the three musketeers had continued their bicker at one another which would’ve dismayed the many customers in the cafe greatly. He wished the conversation didn’t have to turn back to him, not about this topic, he laid his head onto the table his arms being used as a cushion “Lloyd” 

He rapidly shakes his head not wanting to be addressed, especially not when Nya had used such a firm tone at his, as if he was once again a child and she was scolding him for a prank he had pulled or for sneaking out for a mission. Instead she was scolding him for not talking about his romantic feelings for a certain brunette, how times have turned.

“You’re gonna have to confront these feelings sooner or later” The elemental master added when she saw the swift movement of his head, unbeknownst to Lloyd all of them had a growing smirk on their faces. He regretted ever telling them about his crush on y/n, though truth be told they knew before he even told them anything, they had caught him on many occasions being trapped in a daydream admiring the h/c waitress/waiter a lovesick smile on his face. They were all none the wiser how y/n themselves hadn’t picked up on his crush yet. He was that obvious, or were they both that oblivious.

“Not when they’re literally a few feet away” was Lloyds mumbled response, it took two attempts of them all repeating the words in their heads and having a silent conversation with only their eyes to understand what he’d said. Too bad they didn’t have incredible hearing, only Lloyd got blessed with that. He could hear the distant movement of y/n in the kitchen preparing an order and the delicious smell of pastries floated through the air. 

Jay glanced up to stare into the little window that showed the kitchen, he could only see the h/c of y/n’s hair, they were far enough away there’s not a chance they could hear them. The cooper curled ninja leaned closer to Lloyd the sneaky grin still on his face. 

“All the more reasons to talk about them” he quietened his voice into a whisper, the teasing tone of his words flowing easily of his tongue. Lloyd lightly lifted his head up from the table resting it against his crossed elbows, his crimson coloured eyes the same shade as blood narrowed at the lightening ninja. The blond blindly aimed his foot to kick Jay, a pout formed onto the coopers face and he glanced down to the foot that had collided with his under the table “did you seriously just…”

Jay stared at Lloyd with a look of disbelief at the fact that one of his adopted brothers had kicked him, then his disbelief turned into humour. Pulling his head away from Lloyd a snicker escaped his lips and in seconds it turned into laughter tears pricked his eyes as he continued to laugh, Lloyd rested his head back onto the table with a groan. Nya quickly shot Jay a glare that instantly told him to shut up, he did as was instructed however faint snickers found their way to echo across the room he had to cover his mouth with his hand to muffle them. 

“You know Lloyd, Valentine’s Day is coming up” Kai chimed brushing the out of place strand of brunet hair that threatened to ruin his entire hairstyle. A smirk grew on Kai’s face, he stood up from the table and walked over to where Lloyd was sat, shaking his shoulder the same way brothers would. Lloyd weakly pushed Kai away and back into his seat, he wasn’t in the mood for his brotherly actions, nor for trying to understand what he was implying with his sentence. 

Zane who has only then finished his cup of tea, glanced down at Lloyd before speaking a smile much like the teasing expression on the others faces blessed his metallic one “Valentines day; the one day celebration of love, adoration and affection, it is common for individuals whether that be romantic or platonic to ask each-other to be their valentines. However this day is also celebrated to honour the death of Saint Valentine, a martyr who defied Emperor Claudius ban on marriage.” The Nindroid explained his eyes lifting from Lloyd up to the silhouette of y/n who was still in the kitchen, the teasing smile on his face grew “I believe Kai is telling you to ask them to be your valentines” 

That made Lloyd harshly left his head up from the table, his cheeks a dark shade of pink as he returned to his original position, his eyes had also widened at the advice. 

“I beg your…what!” Lloyd exclaimed his voice slightly shaky in shock and embarrassment at what had just been spoken, he could barely comprehend what had been asked of him. He glanced around the room hoping his exclamation and the words of his friends hadn’t been too loud, he didn’t wish for a specific h/c to hear this conversation. 

“Yeah, and if they don’t reciprocate your feelings then you can say you meant it platonically” Cole smiled, hoping this would be seen as encouragement for Lloyd to confess his feelings to the person. It had the opposite effect, Lloyd slowly sank further into his seat a sound closing resembling a whine, that just made him not want to tell them even more. 

The harsh sound of a slap on Cole’s shoulder returned Lloyds attention to his friends, Kai had taken the liberty to smack the earth elemental shoulder an amused expression of disbelief on his face. 

“Dude, you’re not helping!” Kai snippily said shaking his head disappointedly at Cole, what even went through his mind to say that? Kai knew Cole had meant it from the goodness of his heart, but that was not what was needed “that probably made Lloyd not want to confess even more” Cole mumbled a quick apology at Lloyd, mentally face palming himself for even saying those words. 

“I think what Cole is trying to say, is that it’s better for you to try rather than suffer in silence with your feelings. Take a leap of faith” Nya softly spoke her smile aimed at only Lloyd to see, this was an actual smile of encouragement, there was no mocking tone or anything of the sorts and it seemed that the others agreed with her words. Lloyd sighed and adjusted his posture straightening back into his original spot. 

Was he really going to confess his feelings to y/n? And on Valentine’s Day of all days, a day that was merely three days away. The possibility of getting rejected was high and so was the feeling of possibly feeling embarrassed about it, but Nya was right, he had to take a leap of faith.

“Okay…okay I’ll try” Lloyd mumbled, a small smile forming on his face as his cheeks flushed a pinkish colour, he couldn’t believe he was admitting out-loud to them that he’ll try and confess to them on valentines. He couldn’t believe he was even thinking about verbalising his feelings of infatuation to the brunette that was constantly on his mind. 

Jay leaned over towards him, his eyes held a teasing gleam to them as he leaned close to Lloyd and smirked. His expression made Lloyd incredibly uncomfortable “and you know, it’ll be a cute story to tell your kids that you got with them on valentines day” 

Lloyd shot up from the chair in record speed, his eyes widening at the statement and his cheeks became so much more darker. He glanced behind him watching as y/n walked out of the kitchen tray in hand with sweet treats on and walked towards a table, this time when he glanced y/n looked back at him smiling warmly at him before continuing their walk to the table. Lloyd cheeks were burning at that. 

“I’m waiting… outside” Lloyd quickly spoke shuffling out from his chair, tucking the chair back into the table and slowly walked away towards the exit of the café. His cup of hot chocolate remained half empty and the ninjas exploded into silent laughter. 

Y/n could only spare Lloyd a single glance of confusion wondering what had made him look so on edge when they stared at him. The blond never wanted them to know about the conversation he and his friends just had, though it did achieve one thing. 

He was going to ask y/n l/n to be his valentines, to confess his feelings of unbridled love to them, and that scared him to pieces. 

♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎

Lloyd stared down at the sketchbook on his desk, the book with the engraved leather binding of his name making it look ancient and lost in time seemed to merely reflect his own stressed expression. This book held all of his most recent sketches the faint lines of where his pencil had touched the paper hidden within, in a way this sketchbook held all of his secrets, his passions, his beliefs, how he views the world. There were various sketches dotted in the books paper of his surroundings, of the people around him, of the pets that have graced the monastery over the years, only one of these sketches had blush decorating his cheek. 

He flipped open the book instantly finding the page he desired, he remembers the day he drew that page as if it had happened yesterday. It was a rainy afternoon, water droplets cascading down the cafés window in groups, the café itself was relatively quiet most of the customers were inside to hide away from the rain. Y/n waltz around the room drinks and food in hand warmly welcoming people onto the quaint building to conceal themselves from the increasing storm. It had been by chance that Lloyd had ended up in the café, the dim lights softening the atmosphere around him, it was the type of atmosphere that if you weren’t careful you’d fall asleep in an instant.

His eyes fluttered across the room taking in his surroundings, though his gaze always returned to a certain brunette, his pencil brushed along the paper trying to capture the way in which the light of the candles decorated Y/n’s face, how their hair was a bit out of place, how their eyes held a softness to them whilst they talked to their customers, he tried to capture all of these little details onto the paper. 

The page he was staring at was a portrait of y/n, their contagious smile frozen in time and their eyes squinted slightly in laughter all captured onto the page forever inscribed onto it. His smile, a Duchenne smile decorated his lips his finger lowering to the paper and stroking the cheek of the drawn y/n. 

“What are you looking at Lloyd?” A voice from behind him brought him away from his thoughts, quickly he turned around to come face to face with purple eyes staring at him, her head titled in question, though a somewhat teasing smile was on her metallic face. Pixel was in the doorway of his room, he didn’t even realise nor hear anyone approaching, was he that stuck in his daydream. 

A sheepish expression dawned his face, his cheeks decorated in a blush pink colour, Lloyd quickly cleared his throat his eyes glimpsing behind him he instantly saw the page of y/n’s portrait on full display, if Pixel even steps slightly around him she would come face to face with the portrait. 

He quickly rushed to shut the book slamming it shut while Pixel’s confused expression seemed to spread. Lloyds cheeks continued to glow in its pink delight “Pix, hey!” his hand laid against the book while he turned around again to face her, he attempted to muster up the most convincing smile she would ever see. 

“Why did you slam the book?” Pixel took a step further into the room keeping the shoji door slightly ajar, one of her silver eyebrows raised as she look from Lloyd to where his hand disappeared behind him. The grip of Lloyds hand tightened around the leather bound object. 

“no reason, so uh need anything” Lloyd quickly replied his cheeks continued to be painted in blush, all he wanted to do was answer Pixels inquiry if she had one and then she’ll leave, he could only handle being embarrassed once today, he didn’t need it twice.

The samurai warrior stepped beside Lloyd her eyes glancing down at the book that his hand was covering, anyone could tell it was his sketchbook the leather bound around it and the fact that he was being quite protective of it gave all the clarification needed. Lloyd sighed at that, his fingers tapping against the material surrounding the sketch book, it had quite the harsh touch to it but was soothing nevertheless. 

“Zane informed me of the conversation had at the café” Pixel explained, smile on her face, her eyes never left where the sketchbook was embracing the outside of it. She always found Lloyds book to be special, always found it showed her glimpses into how he sees the world and others, on the rare occasions she’s been able to get a peak at the sketches within it always amazed her just how detailed they were. How the hands of a fighter could create something so beautiful, though that might’ve been the First Spinjitsu masters family genes shining through “are you really going to ask y/n to be your valentines?”

Of course Zane had already ratted him out to the nindroids significant other, that shouldn’t have surprise him, that in a way didn’t surprise him, he was expecting Pixel to mention something about the café. 

“Maybe, I don’t…I don’t know” Lloyd’s gaze diverted to the ground not wanting Pixel to see any more of the blush coating his cheeks. Slowly he lifted the sketch book up from the table and rested it against his chest, his arms crossing over it to create a protective shield around it, shielding it away from the prying eyes. 

“That sketchbook of yours has always intrigued me” Pixel pointed to the book in his grasp, a smile on her face while doing so, she could only guess that there was a sketch of a one y/n l/n engraved into the page “I believe they would enjoy it” 

Those were the last words Pixel spoke to the blond sending him a quick smile her lips curving upwards, she swiftly left the room after her smile as if she hadn’t just left Lloyd speechless with her words or that she hadn’t just given Lloyd an idea on how to ask y/n to be his valentines. Slowly he settled his sketchbook back onto the desk and once again found his desired page, he quickly grabbed a pencil from his desk draw which sat on the desk and began to scribble down onto the page a quick sentence. 

‘‘Y/n, will you be my valentines?’ 

-Lloyd 

He stared hard at the page, debating whether or not to gently tear the beautiful/handsome sketch of y/n out of his sketchbook, the decision weighed heavily on him disagreeing whether or not he should take a chance or remain a coward and leave it in the book. Lloyd didn’t realise that through his debate in his mind he had already teared the page out of his sketchbook, the decision had been made.

Slowly he folded the page, the pencil stained paper getting smaller after every fold, Lloyd fiddled with the sketch his mind still racing on why did he allow the ninjas to coheres him to ask y/n out so easily, he’d never asked anyone out before, never had to bare his romantic feelings out to someone, Cole was right though even if his confession to y/n went poorly he could easily say it was meant platonically. 

He placed the paper onto his desk, the folded paper standing out like a sore thumb compared to everything else, tomorrow he’d give y/n the note, tomorrow the question on the paper would be answered. That knowledge frightened him. 

“Lloyd mission time!” Cole called out to Lloyd as he passed by the now open shoji doors that connected his bedroom to the Monastery corridor. The blond was already a-dawning his signature Green GI, where one of the sleeves were brown whilst the rest was a dark green. Lloyd sighed and glanced one more time at the folded paper. 

He rushed out the room, his mind already fixating on the upcoming mission, though the paper and y/n remained in the back of his mind. 

They always found a way back into the four front of his mind throughout the mission. 

♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎

The café had never felt so silent before, even with Lloyds incredible hearing there was not a sound of customers chatting to be heard, the distant sound of a radio playing faint jazz music echoed across the room. It was just after the lunch rush and only a few patrons were in the café most of them being elderly citizens enjoying their own company, Lloyd must’ve been the youngest person in that café as he admired the decor that surrounded the walls and how the faint pinks and yellows mixed perfectly to make such a calming atmosphere. 

He stood beside the door, the slightly broken bell singing on his arrival, Lloyd wasn’t going to be here for long, all he needed to do was hand y/n the note wait for their response and then leave. His hand fidgeted with the folded note that was concealed in his Green hoodie, rocking on his heel as he heard the faint laughter of y/n from the kitchen.

Soon they walked out of the kitchen and to the counter, a wide smile on their face. Lloyd took that moment to admire he features, to admire her h/c hair which had been tossed into a high ponytail/or however your hair normally looks to avoid it from ruining the batter, their front hair hiding parts of their alluring e/c eyes that they had to sweep away to put her eyes on full display once again, a cream coloured apron tightened around their waist and the faint smell of pastries drifted into his direction. In his eyes y/n was the definition of perfect, and if he could he’d admire them the entire day, for the rest of his life if he could. 

Y/n turned their head when they felt eyes staring at them and they flinched slightly at seeing Lloyd standing silently beside the door, he sheepishly smiled at them causing a chuckle to smoothly leave their lips “you really do live up to your profession, don’t you?” They jokingly shakes their head and a smile once again graced their lips, Lloyd wished he could ingrain that smile into his brain. 

“What can I say, it’s part of the job description” The blond took that as his cue to walk up to the counter, the awkward smile still remaining on his lips while the paper continued to be fidgeted with in his hand. This was going surprisingly better than he had thought, though he didn’t plan on accidentally frightening them, he forgot just how quiet he could be. 

“Mhm, nearly gave me a heart attack” y/n grabbed a rag from the side and began wiping down the counter, a half smile still on their lips even when doing this mundane job, they glanced up to their blond haired friend who still looked slightly on edge, they decided to ask about his uneasiness in a bit “on pick up duty again? Well sorry to be the bearer of bad news but you have to order your stuff first before coming in to grab it, my boss almost threw a fit the last time you came without ordering first and I just gave you the food.” A smirked grew on y/n’s lips before they lowered her voice into a whisper and added “though I can always sneak you a little something from behind the counter” 

Lloyd shakes his head at y/n’s word, the nervousness leaving his body for a brief moment he chucked at their words, the h/c raised an eyebrow at Lloyd not fully believing his head shake. 

“Really, well that surprises me” y/n mumbled, finishing with the rag and placing it back onto the side of the counter, they rested her body weight onto the black serving counter. He fidgeted with the paper once again before quickly signing, a confused expression found its way ontop y/n’s face tilting their head slightly at his tense stance. 

“Are you…busy?” He quietly asked his question sounding more like a mumble than actual words, the fidgeting of the paper in his pocket increased and y/n placed a hand onto his clothed shoulder to calm him. It didn’t calm him, not in the slightest, the action made him think that his heart had skipped a beat and pink coated his cheeks. 

“No I’m not busy, is everything okay Lloyd?” Y/n softly responds with a question of their own, keeping their hand firmly on his shoulder and rubbing her thumb gently across it, they were no doubt going to be the death on him, if was so then he didn’t mind going to an early grave. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay just wanted to…” Slowly he began to pull out the folded paper his palms sweating while doing so he hid the paper away from their eye-line, there was no doubt that the paper was getting slightly wet from his palm. He cut himself off halfway, swallowing loudly and running over the words in his head one last time. Y/n patiently waited for him to continue. 

Steadily he opened his mouth preparing himself to pass y/n the folded paper and final have his question answered, that didn’t happen, one of the customers decided at that moment to come up to the counter “excuse me, are you busy?” The h/c glanced at Lloyd quickly an apologetic look in their eyes before mouthing the word sorry and removing their hand from his shoulder focusing their attention onto the customer.

Lloyd stood there crestfallen, was that a sign from the First Spinjitsu Master that it wasn’t worth asking them, that it wasn’t meant to be. He stared harshly at the ground slowly shaking his head at himself, at his stupidity, why did he even think to trust his friends, why didn’t he decline their idea immediately and never even think about asking y/n to be his valentines, it was a stupid thought really that he’d even have the courage to ask them. Lloyd shoved the paper back into his hoodie pocket his arms hanging limply at his side. 

A few minutes later and the customer retreated back to their table, a few minutes too late for Lloyd he’d already scrapped the idea of asking y/n to be his, scrapped the idea of giving them the folded paper. Quickly y/n returned their attention back onto their crimson eyed friend an apologetic smile on their face. 

“Sorry about that, what did you want to say Loy?” Y/n rubbed the back of their neck in sympathy and properly stared at Lloyd, only then did they notice the annoyed expression on his face and the slight scowl that made its way onto his lips, what had happened in those minutes that had made him look so upset.

“Nothing important” Lloyd monotonously responded, his voice quiet and his eyes refused to meet her staring anywhere but at her. Quickly he turned away from them and walked towards the door “better let you get back to work” 

Y/n opened their mouth to speak, to try and stop him from leaving and for them to understand what had happened, however he was already out of the café door it swinging harshly open and walking out of the café swiftly away from her, the bell nearly broke of from its stand as he exited. The few customers stared at his loud exit in confusion, the most confused of them all was Y/n themself, quietly blinked at the door before opening the flat of the counter to go and adjust the bell back to its normal place. 

Once they had walked out from behind the counter did their eyes catch the sight of a folded and slight crumpled paper on the floor, in curiosity y/n crouched onto the ground and picked up the paper walking with it in hand as they made their way to the bell. They didn’t know where it had come from and it felt wrong them for to go snooping at other peoples belongings, but they really wanted to know what was on it. 

Slowly they opened the folded paper and they were instantly meet with themselves, or at least a sketched version of themselves. Y/n marvelled at the drawing, they weren’t a massive art fan but everything about this sketch drew them in, the way whoever drew them captured them blew their breath away, it was mesmerising. Their eyes scanned the sketch searching for some type of initial that would reveal of the mystery of who’d drew this for them, the art style seemed recognisable to them for some reason but she couldn’t understand why, only when their eyes caught sight of the scribbled writing did they know who it was. 

Their breath hitched as they caught sight of Lloyds name at the end of the six letter question, their cheeks becoming a rosy pink hue that there was no doubt that if any of the customers even glanced over at them then they’d be confused by their expression. That was what he had wanted to ask, that was why he was so quick to leave, that was why he looked so nervous, their entire interaction with Lloyd made so much more sense. They softly smiled at the sketch and refolded it placing it into their apron pocket, they had some planning to do, and they couldn’t wait for Lloyds next visit to the café, they only hoped it would be before Valentine’s Day. 

Lloyd didn’t notice that the sketch was no longer in his hoodie pocket until the very next day. 

♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎

Lloyd was practically dragged once again to the café, this time however it was by his mother insisting that this was what he needed to get him out of his funk. He blankly stared at his mother in annoyance, he didn’t tell her that the reason he was in his funk was because he was going to ask y/n to be his valentines in that very café but the universe clearly didn’t give him any signs that he should, he didn’t dare tell his mother that reason, that would’ve only given her more reason to bring him here. 

“I’m not in a funk mum” Lloyd harshly whispered to his mother the moment she opened the café door, the bell announcing his arrival, his eyes glancing to the floor the moment he saw y/n h/c hair. Mistako guided the two of them to an empty table, a warm smile on her face while she adjusted her glasses. 

“Nonsense, you normally love going to this café. Gets you right out of your sour moods” His mother beamed picking up a menu from the table to scan over the items on offer. Yeah, normally it would help his sour moods but not when the person he wanted to ask to be his valentines is in his vicinity, it was the day before Valentine’s Day and he had lost his sketch, those three factors did not equal a perfect place to help him “what do you want son? I’ll be paying” 

“Debating whether or not to pick the most expensive item for revenge on you dragging me here” Lloyd chided in a mumble, his eyes narrowing when his mother passed him a menu, she lightly smacked him on the back of the head and huff leaving her lips, the café certainly hadn’t fixed his mood, she didn’t even know what had made him so prickly. 

“Behave you” Mistako strictly whispered with a raise of her eyebrow, from the corner of her eye she could see y/n making their way to the table notepad in hand. Maybe they’ll be able to right her son’s sour mood, Mistako didn’t notice how Lloyd swiftly turned his attention away from the approaching y/n nor the pink that dusted his cheeks. 

“Long time no see, what’ll it be?” Y/n smiled at the two of them, their smile lingering longer at Lloyd than at his grey haired mother, their eyes closing slightly in delight. Mistako was quick to say her order and was about to poke her son to tell him to say his own order, however y/n had already spoken again “your usual Lloyd?” 

The way their question seemed to easily leave their lips left his cheeks rising in blush more, his eyes turning to glance at them slowly he began nodding his head “uh…yeah…yeah I’ll have that” he kept it brief and quickly turned his gaze back to the closed door, it was difficult trying to ignore the person you’re hopelessly crushing on, his mother once again lifted an eyebrow at his nervous and swift tone but she never commented on it. 

Y/n smiled and walked away claiming the orders will be out shortly, it was once again only Lloyd and Mistako at the table. 

“What was that about?” She humorously asked the moment y/n had disappeared into the kitchen, the older women moved the menu out of Lloyds hand and to the side of the table, a quiet laugh leaving her lips at his pink cheeks, she never realised Lloyd had a crush on y/n, now she was more glad that she had brought Lloyd here. 

“Not important mum” Lloyd quickly whispered, his eyes wide as the words flowed from his mouth and he rested his head onto his elbow, his eyes glued to the door once again avoiding any eye-contact from his mother or from y/n. Mistako opened her mouth once again wanting to add onto her previous statement, though the quick glare her son gave her quickly prompted her not to and to instead sit there quietly and wait for their beverages 

Ten minutes later and y/n returned two drinks in hand for the two Garmadon family members, the warm smile persisted on their lips even when they placed the drinks down for the respective person. Lloyd glanced down at his hot chocolate expecting some sort of disfigured drawing of a type of animal, only this time it was none of the sorts, instead on the top of his cup sketched into it via cream was a heart, must’ve been a valentine special for the day before and on Valentine’s Day. 

“Oh Lloyd” y/n spoke reaching into the packet of their apron and grabbing out a familiar piece of folded paper, Lloyd froze the moment he saw that paper, of course he’d left it here, of course they’d seen it, he didn’t want them to see it anymore, he didn’t want to feel the taste of embarrassment, of humiliation. The h/c placed it beside Lloyds hot chocolate “You left this here a few days ago” 

Lloyd wanted to bang his head onto that very table, he wanted to run out of that café with what little dignity he had left, he wanted to rip that paper into a million tiny pieces. Y/n didn’t stay for long after they gave Lloyd his folded paper back smiling warmly at him before going back to the counter, he could still feel her gaze even when she was no longer beside him. 

The blond let out a slight groan at the folded paper picking it up from the table and holding it in his hand, he narrowed his eyes at it as if scolding the paper for falling onto the floor and ending up in y/n’s hand. Mistako glanced down at the paper to her son silently telling asking him what on earth was that paper for, he never responded. 

With a quick movement of his fingers he unfolded the paper, he might as well see if the sketch was still intact even if the small question that laid unanswered on it would haunt him. Slowly but cautiously he unfolded the paper, the sketched eyes of y/n staring at him, he unknowingly smiled at being reunited with the sketch though as his eyes surveyed the page he noticed that something had been added, his eyes widened when he realised what it was. 

‘Yes, I’d love to ♡︎’ 

-y/n

In seconds he was quickly placing the paper back onto the table, his mother raising an eyebrow at him at his fast reaction unaware of what was on the paper. 

“They said yes” Lloyd whispered in disbelief, pink slowly becoming more evident on his cheeks and the tip of his ears, once again he grabbed ahold of the pencil stained paper and looked over her written reply, he saw that underneath their name y/n had written down a number, their number, he had y/n number “oh my wojira” Lloyd sank into his seat, a dreamy smile on his face while his hot chocolate became forgotten, he couldn’t believe he had a valentines, that Y/n L/N was his valentines.

Lloyd glanced behind him and there they were smiling at his reaction, their own blush decorating their face, they lifted their hand up to her ear and did the call me sign. He sheepishly smiled at her rubbing the back of his neck, guess he was no longer free tomorrow, tomorrow he was with y/n, on a date. 

He was going to cherish that sketch forever 

♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎

Green machine: 

Guess who’s got a valentine!

sent 11:30am

Sparky: 

You all owe me £10 

sent 11:31

♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎❤︎︎♡︎