#distrust of medication cw

[distinctlywhumpthing]

First Night Home pt. 1

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Aiden wishes he could know the way home by heart. Feel a sense of comfort, that indescribable pull, as familiarity marks the closing distance to the place where he belongs. It’s a foolish, naked yearning. One that hangs in the spotlight of his focus a moment too long, leaving him feeling just as exposed. 

He spreads his fingers on his legs to stop from curling them into fists. Curling his toes in his shoes is a cheap substitute for grounding himself but at least it keeps that look off Leo’s face. 

The one that confirms Aiden is a burden he didn’t sign up for, companion or not. 

“Almost there,” Leo says, pulling away from a stop sign and turning left. 

His stomach drops and he turns toward the window to hide his face. 

Just like the first night, he has no idea what to expect when they arrive. He should be able to grant Leo a fraction of the trust he has felt but is always unable to find when he needs it most. It’s overwhelmed too easily, road salt cloudy headlights on an unlit route, feeble light swallowed by darkness before it can illuminate anything more than the rush of pavement before it disappears. His catastrophizing is stunted by exhaustion but the longer they drive down the winding roads, the more his stomach knots and twists, anticipation-turning-to-dread the only mile marker he has. He worries about losing to his nausea, as much as a passenger in his body as he is in the car, heading toward the inevitable. 

When Leo turns off the road, Aiden panics even more, scanning the row of four identical condos, porch lights still casting a dim glow in the pre-dawn light. He doesn’t recognize anything, except Leo’s work van at the end of the shared driveway. Shame rises along with the bile in his stomach. It’s disrespectful to Leo and the invitation to share any part of his home––to entertain it as a place he could pretend to belong—if he can’t even recognize it from the outside.

For fuck’s sake, it’s the barest of minimums required to lay claim to any place.

He bites back his apology. Stutters won’t be the only thing that comes out if he opens his mouth just now. He wouldn’t be able to articulate the transgression anyway. Little progress he made earlier trying to explain he wasn’t trying to run from Leo at the hospital, that he was just trying to give him a shot at getting his life back. The one before he took on a damaged—

“Home sweet home.” Leo kills the engine and lets his head fall back against the headrest with a sigh.

Aiden lowers his gaze, guilt swirling in his stomach. Again, the apology is on the tip of his tongue but his eyes start to burn hot with tears. He will not cry again. He cannot. He bites the inside of his cheek and the taste of blood is a quick distraction. 

Worse than dissolving into a crying mess would be getting sick in Leo’s sister’s car. 

Leo’s on the move anyway. With another sigh, he gets out, leaving Aiden alone to clap his good hand over his mouth and force deep breaths in and out through his nose. He even closes his eyes to beg himself to be capable this time. Better for this second-second chance. Easier after everything. 

Little good it does. 

By the time Leo reaches his door, Aiden is resigned to ducking around him to throw up. The bar lowered to please just don’t get sick on Leo’s shoes. 

The cold air hits him in a blast when Leo reaches the door and helps him out. He blinks against the sharp sting of it, both hands gripping Leo’s forearm. Another lungful of brisk winter morning and the nausea settles. 

His next inhale is full of sky. Deep blue night softening with the light of day from one horizon to the other. A whisper of purple hinting at the brilliance of more colors soon to come. He could stay here forever, taking in the spectrum of dark to light, the stars fading out in the west and the sun soon to rise in the east. He watched the sunrise a few times from the bedroom window upstairs but he can’t remember the last time he stood under a sky like this. 

Or the last time he was outside in daylight at all. 

“Hon, you alright?”

Leo’s expression has probably passed concern because Aiden let a few tears escape. They’ve already slid down his cheeks, warm at the outset, their wakes chilled in the fresh morning air. 

He wipes his face with his sleeve, still looking up. “Thank you,” he hears himself whisper and somehow it comes out crystal clear. He wishes he could say more, thank Leo for this morning sky he had nothing and everything to do with. But he doesn’t trust himself not to ruin it. 

Leo doesn’t say anything back, just wraps an arm around his shoulders. 

As soon as they step inside, he wants to run back to the feeling he found under the sky. But Leo’s exhausted and he already waited with Aiden until the sun started peeking over the horizon. Watching the sun rise wouldn’t stave off the inevitable. It’ll be over in minutes anyway. 

Aiden winds up hovering at the edge of the kitchen, unsure if he should stay out of the way or help. The bags sit on the island, handles still standing at attention from being lifted there. 

Leo relieves him of any guesswork by setting a glass of water on the island. “Think you can drink this?” 

He nods, grateful for an easy opportunity to be obedient, and slides onto a stool, watching for any reaction from Leo out of habit, but he’s looking down. Aiden’s stomach knots when he realizes he’s reading the slip of paper from the doctors again. 

If Leo tells him to take any of the medicine, he should. He will. He’ll do anything Leo asks him to. Happily. If what Leo said about finding him is true, he owes him his life twice over, maybe three times if he considers—

“Aiden?”

He jumps and Leo quickly leans over to clamp a hand around his teetering glass.

“M’sorry.” He tucks his hands between his legs, apology not quite audible even to his ears. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you.”

“S’okay,” he whispers. 

Leo’s sigh makes him flinch before he can catch himself. 

Leo holds up his hands, one still holding the rescued glass. “Easy, sweetheart. We’re all good. It’s all good.” 

Aiden nods. He’s overreacting, reading into Leo’s every fucking exhale. He’s just overreacting but still, tears are building behind his eyes. He nods again, squeezing his hands into fists but the pain that radiates up his arms makes the tears fall. “M’sorry, m’sorry.” He shakes his hands out at his sides, swipes furiously at the traitorous tears, and refuses—refuses—to meet Leo’s gaze to see how completely exasperated and disappointed he is. “M’sorry, m’sorry—”  

“Aiden. Aiden.” Leo’s beside him now, warm hand on his shoulder making him realize just how much he’s curled forward. “Just breathe. That’s right. You’re okay, you’re good.” 

He nods, sniffling. He needs to pull himself together. “M’sorry, m’sorry.” 

“Hon, look at me.” 

He meets Leo’s eyes, letting himself shelter in the ease of obedience. 

“You’re good, it’s all good. We’ll figure things out together, step by step, in the morning—or, well, later today.” Leo’s soft chuckle, tired as it is, tempts Adien further into the lulls of earned safety and he doesn’t have the energy to resist. Leo rubs his shoulder. “Everything will look a little better after some sleep, yeah?” Leo goes to the sink to top up his glass. “Let’s head up.” 

His stomach drops and maybe even his lungs too because he can’t feel himself breathe anymore. He’s too busy trying to read Leo’s face. What about the mess upstairs? Should he get the bleach? Or is this the moment Leo finally punishes him? 

He follows Leo to the stairs, shoving his shaking hands into the pocket of the hoodie. He knots his fingers together as much as he can without it hurting too much. He’s not sure what they’ll find upstairs. He can only remember blurs and there’s no telling what happened after his memory stops. 

“Better get scrubbing, ‘359.” 

He shakes his head but the flashes of the facility tiles, covered in blood, are so bright in his mind. His hand gripping the banister feels far away, feet climbing the stairs even further. A few more steps and he’ll be able to see the bathroom. 

The blood, the tiles. 

“Aiden?” 

He flinches, attention snapping back to Leo a few steps ahead. “M’good,” he says, too quickly because Leo narrows his eyes. He walks back down and stops one step lower so they’re the same height. 

“There’s no–– there’s nothing to worry about. I asked Jesse to come over while we were out.” 

He nods slowly.  

“Everything’s clean, it’s all good.” 

Aiden hopes he hides his shameful relief better than his lack of understanding. “Mmm’thanks…” It’s not enough. He’ll never be enough. 

Leo holds out his arm. “All good, hon.” 

At the top of the stairs, he goes the extra mile and flicks on every light in the bathroom. The brightness hurts Aiden’s eyes but the bathroom is indeed spotless. 

Like nothing ever happened.

Leo walks him to the second bedroom, sets the glass of water on the desk and clicks on the little lamp. “I’ll get you some clean pajamas.” 

The pressure in the room changes when Leo leaves. 

Aiden’s breath comes easier, inhale and exhale deeper. The air no longer feeling finite to leave space for all the anticipation that accompanies Leo. 

But his relief is quickly spoiled by the discomfort of idleness. 

Using the desk chair for balance, he strips to his underwear, neatly folding the dirty clothes to be put in the hamper in the bathroom. He doesn’t want to see the bandages on his hand or arms, nor the gauze taped to his elbow and collarbone. Any visible trace of blood and Leo will want to check them, clean the stitches, change the bandages, ask him how he’s feeling, if he wants to take something for it and he can’t answer, he can’t look, he can’t handle having Leo examine him like that, so careful like he’s breakable when he’s done all this to himself and— 

He covers his face with his hands. Tries to pull in a deeper breath but the smell of betadine under the bandages makes his stomach churn so he lets his hands fall. 

There’s a smudge on his upper arm. Rubbing at it with his thumb does nothing. He turns to see it in the faint light coming through the window–– 

It’s blood. Dried blood, all over. A ragged stripe of it snaking across his upper arms and chest. He can see it spreading, hear the drip, drip, drip of the faucet he was shaking too much to turn off completely. 

He pinches his eyes shut and shakes his head but when he opens his eyes again it’s even worse. It’s everywhere, splotches up and down his arms, all over his torso. 

Splattered all over the bright, white tiles. 

He can’t get it off. He has to get rid of it. He has to wash away the blood. 

“Scrub those tiles good and clean, ‘359.” 

No, this can’t be happening right now. 

His breath trembles and he can’t fill his lungs anymore but it doesn’t matter because the sounds of his panic have already caught Leo’s attention. 

“Aiden?” 

He spins to face Leo, bumping into the door which hits the wall and makes him jump all over again. His apology comes out as more of a strangled whine. 

“Easy.” Leo makes his movements slow and deliberate as he sets the clothes down. “It’s alright.” 

Aiden nods along. Of course it’s alright. He knows it’s alright but he still can’t seem to catch more than tiny gasps of air at a time. It’s just Leo. He’s here with Leo. He’s––

“Hey, hey, look at me.” 

Leo doesn’t try to move any closer, just holds his gaze. “That’s good, just breathe. We’ve got all the time we need. There’s no rush. Just take it easy. Take some slow, deep breaths.” 

He hates how immediately possible it is when he can hear it as a command. 

“Good, that’s good. You’re good.” 

Hates even more that he sinks his teeth right into all the warmth and relief he can get from the shallow praise, a shiver running up his spine in its wake. But it helps and he can already stand a bit straighter, think, and see a bit clearer. 

Leo waits a few more deep breaths. “All good?” 

“Mhm, m’sorry—” He clears his throat. “I––I––” He steels himself and lets his arms fall, eyes locked on Leo’s expression. 

“Ah. I didn’t think of that.” 

Leo’s frown makes his heart start to race. He crosses an arm over his chest, as if there might be a chance Leo can actually see the hair-trigger reactivity he’s got tonight. 

“I’ll get a washcloth with some soap, I can––” 

“Please––” he chokes out, calves hitting the bed frame. He blinks away Harrison, standing over him, cold and indifferent while he begs and cries. 

“Okay, never mind.” Aiden is still holding his breath so Leo softens his voice. “Hey, hey, easy. Not that one, okay? Forget I suggested it.” 

He drags in a strained breath. “M’sorry.” Forces himself to take a step back toward Leo.

“It’s alright, don’t be sorry. I need to know these things, it’s good you’re telling me.” 

He swallows and looks down. Unsure if he’s more ashamed that Leo has to spell it out for him or that it’s necessary at all. 

“Well, I guess a shower is the next option. What do you think?” 

Aiden nods, trying to look at least a little more composed to face the bathroom. 

“Okay,” Leo says but he doesn’t move. 

Aiden looks down again to let him think. He wants to shake out his arms, and his legs too while he’s at it. Just because he can and that’s why it helps. But he doesn’t want Leo to think he’s impatient. He’d probably tip right over anyway. 

“Sorry, okay, yeah. Just a quick shower, I’ll help you.” He turns and Aiden follows. 

It won’t be as simple as that but it’s a lie of solace they’ll cling to like a life raft. 

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@octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @whumpy-writings @cracked-porcelain-princess

@meetmeinhellcroutons @briars7 @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @neuro-whump

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@peachy-panic @fillthedarkvoid @rabass @crystalquartzwhump @dont-touch-my-soup

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @hold-him-down @guachipongo @creetchure @leyswhumpdump

@aseasonwithclarasblog @catawhumpus @magziemakeswhatever @espresso-depresso-system @pigeonwhumps

@batfacedliar-yetagain @whumpinthepot @dustypinetree @whump-in-progress @pirefyrelight

@whumps-and-bumps @i-eat-worlds @hellodecisionparalysis @heartfullofhoney

[crucifixi]

at least let me look at it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀PATCHING UP WOUNDS PROMPT

⠀⠀Wolfwood sat tensely on the edge of a wooden chair. His arm was a mess a raw open wound that marred his muscular bicep — the flesh around it turning an angry red. It was deep enough to see the under layers of skin, and pus had begun to form around the edges, a clear sign of infection.

❛ Stop fussing, mini doc. I can do it myself. ❜

He grumbled while reaching into his pocket, pulling out a vial of his serum. He didn’t need help from a plant doctor or any doctor that matter. These serums helped him before and will help him now.

[merakiui]

the birds and the bees.

yandere!riddle rosehearts x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, slight dub-con, implied stalking, age gap (riddle is 19 and reader is 29) note - you're hired to teach riddle about the birds and the bees. you need the money. he needs to get laid.

The Rosehearts’s Residence looks about how you expected it to after driving past houses of similar size and grandeur. Unlike you, they’re definitely not strapped for cash. It’s an impressive structure with its elegant wrought iron gates and expertly trimmed hedges. You’re immediately overcome with bitter jealousy when you step through the entrance, passing rose bushes in full bloom. If only your apartment could look and feel as nice as this place. You almost wonder if you should keep Mrs. Rosehearts’s contact in case she ever needs a gardener or a window washer…

But then that risks your cover, and the last thing you want is to get tangled up in trouble with the upper middle class.

Gathering your courage, you smooth invisible wrinkles in your pencil skirt, steady your balance in your Mary Janes—both at socially acceptable lengths and heights—and bring your fist down against the door. Seconds after the third knock, it opens to reveal a woman who looks as prim and proper as the landscape of her home. She takes a long moment, drinking in your formal features, and then smiles approvingly.

“Ah, (Name), you’re early.”

You soften your face into something polite and demure. “Better early than late.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

She steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. You meander into the foyer and are instantly reminded of those exquisite house tours on MagiTube. There’s a fine layer of modest Victorian wealth to the decor. Flowery wallpaper, a lofty ceiling, an aureate chandelier, a vase filled with fresh tulips of all colors… Oh, how you wish you could live here!

“Your home is beautiful,” you comment as you straighten your bow headband.

“Why, thank you.” Her eyes light up once more. “I’ve always admired this neighborhood. Everything is so well-kept. Speaking of which, where did you say you’re from?”

“Oh, I’m actually getting ready to move back to school at the end of the summer,” you explain, narrowly dodging her question. No way I’m telling her I live in a not-so-affluent neighborhood… She’ll totally kick me out. “I’m staying with my parents in the meantime and working a few jobs to support myself.”

“And what was it you’re studying again?”

You paste a hollow smile on, sensing her distrust. I already told you this when we met at the clinic. Do I really seem so suspicious?

“I’m studying to be an ob-gyn.”

“A wonderful profession,” she praises, nodding to herself. “Very wonderful indeed. And how old are you? I merely ask to confirm. There are so many miscreants nowadays. You can never be too sure.”

“I understand completely, Mrs. Rosehearts. I’m—” you almost falter, your real age on the tip of your tongue— “twenty-two. What about your son? You told me he’s also looking to get into the medical field?”

“Not looking. He will pursue medicine,” she corrects sternly. “Just like his mother.”

You swallow your disgust and try not to let it show so openly. Yikes… Talk about controlling.

Mrs. Rosehearts waves you onwards down the hall. “My Riddle will be leaving for his first year of college at the end of August. Though I’m certain he’s more than prepared, it never hurts to review.”

“Absolutely. So you’d like me to give him the talk?”

“Not just that. I’d like you to teach him well enough so that copulation and any other libidinous ideas are the last things on his mind. Stamp them out if you must. He’s to focus on his studies and make good decisions just as I raised him.”

Shouldn’t he already be familiar with this? Besides, he’s not a kid. Of course he’s going to think about sex. Most of us do when we’re horny.

But you can’t say that outright, so you settle for something vastly different.

“It’s important to stay on the right path and be responsible.”

Mrs. Rosehearts nods her agreement. Your stomach twists in discomfort.

On second thought, I don’t want to be upper middle class if these are the people I have to deal with. Is this guy going to have any chance to be social? To live his life? To make and learn from stupid mistakes? I bet he can’t wait to get out of here and go off to school.

“I apologize if this is rude in any way, but I just want to ensure I’ll be paid accordingly.”

“Of course. Good work must always be recognized and rewarded.” She stops at a door. “I cannot thank you enough for lending my Riddle your time. Teach him well.”

“I’ll do just that. You can count on it.”

Pleased with the level of maturity you’ve displayed, she raps her knuckles against the door and calls out, “Riddle, the tutor’s here.”

“Very well, Mother. I’ve just finished today’s readings, so you can send them in,” comes a muffled reply.

Today’s readings? you think, perplexed. Your gaze slides from the door to Mrs. Rosehearts. Does she have this guy doing summer school? That must suck! What a shitty way to spend your summer, cooped up inside filling out workbooks and stuff.

“I’ll be out running errands in the meantime. I trust you’ll be all right by yourself?”

“Perfectly all right,” you assure her, to which she hums and strides past you. You catch her perfume as she departs, and it reminds you of the types of scents worn by saggy, old ladies who have nothing better to do than sit around and complain about the state of the world and the way their children turned out.

In other words, a scent you associate with misery.

You wait until she’s out of sight before opening the door and stepping inside the study. There’s a mahogany desk in the center, and thick textbooks are piled high on either side. Beyond that, beside a big bay window with cream-colored curtains drawn to let in the sun, two large bookcases are packed with an array of tomes. At the front of the room, a blackboard has been built into a wooden frame. Chalk lines the ledge, situated within reach of an eraser. And sitting at the desk, his eyes glued to an open book, is a young man. A pair of round frames sit on the bridge of his nose, slipping ever so slightly down the slope of it when he peers at the page. He pushes them up when he finally lifts his head to greet you.

“Hey.” You wave awkwardly, easing the door shut.

He seems taken aback by your appearance. “Oh, yes. Right. Hello…”

Silence soon fills the space. You wonder if you should just save yourself this nonsensical waste of time and retreat.

“Sooo.” You fold your arms behind your back, rocking on your heels. “Your mother’s probably told you why I’m here.”

“I’m aware.” He shuts his book and stands from his seat. “My name is Riddle Rosehearts. A pleasure to meet you.”

You blink at his outstretched arm. “(Name). Likewise.” You grab his hand and shake firmly. 

So stiff…

“So where’re we starting? The basics? You want the whole ‘when a man and a woman love each other very much’ version or—”

Riddle scoffs and yanks his arm back. “I’m not a fool. I’ll have you know I’m well aware of sexual reproduction and what it entails.”

“You can call it sex. No one’s forcing you to be all biological,” you tease. His body goes rigid, and his face reddens in what you assume is flustered annoyance. “Anyways, since you’re not as brainless as Mother Dearest wants me to assume, I’ll just get into it.”

Riddle stares at you, his arms folding over his chest. He looks like he wants to argue, but instead he huffs and lowers into his chair.

Wordlessly, you undo the buttons on your blazer and shrug out of it. Your blouse goes next, untucked from your skirt and shucked. Riddle’s eyes are so wide they nearly pop out of his skull when he spies the white, lacy false collar that just barely covers your breasts. You’re about to step out of your pencil skirt next when Riddle clears his throat.

“W-What’re you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“No?”

“I’m teaching you the birds and the bees.”

“N-Not in that outfit! S-Surely not…” He averts his eyes, crimson crawling up to his ears. “You’re practically nude!”

“That’s the point of lingerie, silly.” Your skirt pools around your ankles to reveal the rest of your frilly ensemble. A black-and-white cupless bra and crotchless panties set, both with plenty of ruffles, held together with a pair of garters. Still wearing matching stockings and your precious Mary Janes, you bend down to gather your discarded clothes. They’re set aside on a nearby chair. “You can look.”

“A-Absolutely not!” he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut. “Y-You… You’re not decent. It’s rude to stare.”

“Come on. You got past anatomy diagrams just fine.”

Riddle opens and closes his mouth, speechless like a beached fish. Eventually, he manages to gather his coherency. “You’re a tutor, aren’t you? Where’s your dignity?”

“Nonexistent. I lied.” His head snaps over to view you, and he seems so scandalized by your admission that it’s almost comedic. “No way I’m studying to be an ob-gyn. I’m not even in school.”

“What?! But you—”

“It’s fine. I looked the part, didn’t I?” you joke, waving your hand about dismissively. “C’mon, mama’s boy. You’re going off to college. It’s nothing like those stuffy anatomy courses.”

Riddle tries and fails to look at anywhere that isn’t you, his eyes lingering on your chest to the space between your legs to the thigh garter and then to the ceiling. He’s so red you think he might explode.

“You’ve been with a girl before, yeah?”

With lips pursed in a tight line, he shakes his head.

“Sounds about right.”

“And you’re so experienced?”

You flash him a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry about it, mama’s boy.”

“I’m not a mama’s boy!”

“No? So you just let your mother treat you like a little baby at your grown age? You let her pick out sex tutors for you?”

“I—” He stops himself from speaking to mull over your questions. “If it’s what she deems necessary…”

“Because our biggest fear is sexually awkward you knocking up some girl at school, right?”

“I… I would never! Safe sex is—”

“Very important when you’re not trying to conceive. Good boy. See? You know your stuff.”

Riddle’s eyes narrow into vicious slits. You brush his scorching vitriol off and turn towards the board. Procuring a piece of chalk, you scrawl words on it: Birds and Bees 101. Wholly unamused, Riddle folds his arms across his chest.

“Your mother told me you’re gonna study medicine, so you’re probably familiar with everything already. And I’m sure you know all about the baby-making process on a biological level.” You whirl to face him, your tits bouncing with the peppy motion. Riddle swallows thickly. “But just to make sure… Let’s review.”

“R-Review? You don’t mean—”

“What’s this?” Your hands close around your tits. Riddle’s enchanted with the way you squeeze them—the way they depress under your fingers.

“Um… Ahem. Well… T-The breasts. They’re a type of glandular organ located on a woman’s chest, and they’re made up of lots of tissue and fat. There’s the mammary gland—that’s what produces milk. Oh, and then there are the areolas right around the nipples. Those are—”

“You can call them what they are.”

Riddle blinks, shaken from his studious spiel. “W-What?”

“You know the word, mama’s boy.”

He flusters. “Yes, I’m aware. But…”

“No harm in saying it.” You run your fingers over your nipples and giggle sweetly like a schoolgirl. “Go on…”

He inhales a deep breath. “They’re tits,” he mumbles, desultory. “Y-Your tits.”

You clap, beaming brightly. “Well done! Moving swiftly on…” You run your hands down the expanse of your stomach, stopping just beneath your navel. “What’s here?”

“Your womb. O-Otherwise known as the uterus. It’s where a baby grows over the course of nine months.”

“Mhm. Good job.”

He pushes his glasses up his nose, clearing his throat. “There’s more to your reproductive system than the uterus. Lots of parts. Important parts.”

“Right. But I don’t need to quiz you on it. You obviously know your stuff.”

Again, your fingers inch lower until they’re prodding at your folds. Riddle’s breath audibly hitches.

“And this?”

“Your vagina. It’s where—”

“What’s the other word?”

Riddle avoids your stare. “It sounds so vulgar…”

“So what?”

“S-So there ought to be a term that’s more…flattering.”

“Like what?” You approach him and, with the grace of a swan, lift your leg onto the desk to give him a better view of yourself. Shamelessly, you dip your fingers inside to spread yourself. “A guy called it the honeypot once. That pretty enough for you?”

Riddle squeaks and flinches back in his chair, his face now even redder than it was before. “T-That’s fine…”

“Really? I’d have thought the implication in that one is much dirtier than calling it a pussy.”

It takes him a moment to connect the dots, but once he does he gasps. “Ah. Then…”

You press inwards with your fingers, exaggerating a pornographic sigh. “Yeah?”

“Can I… M-May I call it your flower?”

“Sure.” His shoulders slacken with a flicker of relief. Your next words shatter that and his pride in one fell swoop. “That one’s not as special as you think, mama’s boy. I’ve heard it all—every type of flower you can think of.”

“Even a rose?”

“Especially a rose.” His lips twist into a disappointed moue. You chuckle and add, “You can call it a rose if you want. I don’t mind.”

Riddle meets your eyes then, searching them for the joke. When one doesn’t present itself, he relaxes. “All right. It’s a very pretty rose. Soft…”

“Aww. Thanks for saying so. It’s softer inside, y’know. See?” Spreading yourself wider, you angle your hips to bless him with the full view. “My fingers slide right in. Wanna guess why?”

“B-Because the vagina naturally—” He stops himself, his brows knitting together in contemplation. When he speaks next, it’s with a determined sort of conviction. “When you’re aroused, your rose produces a natural lubricant during sexual excitement.”

“Mhm. We call that ‘feeling good and getting wet,’ Dr. Rosehearts.”

“Yes. Y-Yes, I know that.” He eyes your pussy, a ravenous glimmer in his intelligent blue-greys. “And the wetness—it’s supposed to make it feel better. To make insertion easier, I mean.”

“Right again.” You ease your fingers out but not before thrusting them deeper just so he can hear the sinful sounds. They shimmer with your essence, enticing in a forbidden way. “What about the other parts? How about this spot here?” You brush against the hood of your clit, circling it slowly.

Riddle watches, hopelessly spellbound. “The clitoris.”

“I’m impressed. Most guys don’t know about it.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“But it’s your most sensitive erogenous zone! Just how uninformed does one have to be to neglect such a crucial part to your sexual anatomy?”

“Woefully uninformed, I’m afraid,” you mutter with a pout. Your fingertips drag your hood up to reveal that pretty, perky nub. “I think it’s dumb your mother wants me to talk you out of sex. You’re going to college. You’re an adult. You’re free to do whatever you want.”

“I…” Riddle frowns at that last line. “I have no interest in it. Besides, it’ll only hinder my studies. If I really need it, I’ll just masturbate. That’s healthy every now and then, and it doesn’t break any rules.”

“Really? No interest at all?” You shoot him a knowing look and run your tongue along your bottom lip. “Because your dick’s telling a different story.”

Riddle sputters, embarrassed, and squeezes his thighs together. His hands fly to cover his lap. “That’s because you’re—” He gazes at the floor. “Because you’re so pretty…”

Temporarily thrown off course, you gape at him. “What?”

“You’re beautiful.”

Gathering the remnants of your mask, you piece it together and laugh. “Not the first time I’ve heard someone describe it like that.”

“Not just your pussy.” Your gaze snaps to his. He smiles, impish. “I’m sure you know what I mean, Teacher.”

You exhale a short laugh. “Someone’s suddenly confident.”

Riddle rises from his seat. His fingers close around your wrist, gently pulling it away from your clit. He moves around the desk to stand in front of you and then, before you can comprehend his intentions, he’s pushing you down onto the desk. You yelp at the sudden change in position, your eyes blown wide when he presses his clothed hard-on against your bare pussy.

“You’re doing a poor job at dissuading me from wanting sex.”

“I wasn’t trying to.”

“Not in that outfit.” He grabs at the meat of your thighs and parts them. “If Mother knew you lied to her…”

You shake your head at him. “Please don’t tell her. I… I’m being serious. I need this money.”

“Desperately?”

Your lip curls into the beginning of a sneer. You hate feeling powerless more than anything, but the fiery glaze in his eyes is just as troubling. “I’m not going to beg.”

“I haven’t asked for that yet.”

You roll your eyes. “Not funny. I agreed to teach you about sex. We’re not actually doing it.”

“A shame.”

“You’ll find a nice girl at school. Don’t lose hope, mama’s boy. Lots of girls like the smart types who’ll give ’em a lecture on biology and stuff.”

“I think you misunderstand. I don’t want other girls.”

“Okay?”

“My mother’s paying for a tutor and I desire you, so unless you want to leave here as a lying cheat…” He hums, seeming awfully haughty to hold the only thing that tethers you to him above your head. “You need the money, right?”

“Yes. Sure, of course I do. But—” You shift on the desk, silently horrified when he rocks against you. “We can’t. Your mother—”

“Weren’t you the one saying I should live my life? That I have the freedom to do as I please?”

“That doesn’t mean—come on; listen to yourself. You can’t honestly think I’d fuck you.”

“No? And yet you came wearing this outfit, parading around the study with your pussy and tits out.” He glances past you at the window. “And you didn’t even bother to close the curtains… How brazen.”

Your attempt to jerk away from him is made in vain. He pins you down onto the desk, one hand squeezing your breast, while the other works to fish himself from his trousers. Now hard and leaking, his cock rests against your stomach. It’s not a terrible size. If anything, it’s perfect. Just right for your tastes.

“W-Wait! It’s not safe. You can’t—” You inhale sharply, bucking up towards his hand when he presses his thumb against your clit. Biting your lip, you fix him with a glower. “If you pay me… If you promise not to tell your mother—”

Riddle leans in close. “No one needs to know. No one but us.”

Your eyes flit about the room. With a withering sigh, you submit to his touch. “You’d better pull out in time.”

Riddle rolls his hips once and his cock drags along your folds. You hiss through your teeth at this new friction, a sinful delight more dizzying than any type of alcohol consumed in excess. “Do you want to be a mother?”

“What I want has nothing to do with you. I’m just—ooh—t-trying to survive. You wouldn’t know what that’s like, so don’t poke fun.”

Riddle hums, kneading your breast and rubbing you to the edge all at once. It’s so very obviously his first time, his zealous nature trumping any sort of experienced technique. It still does the trick, though, sending little bolts of pleasure up your spine.

“My mother wouldn’t just choose anyone. Her standards are very high.” His eyes flick to your face, drinking in your expression as it shifts with restrained bliss. “Somehow you’ve earned her approval.”

“Lying’ll do that.”

“Maybe.” His fingers replicate the motions you did earlier, though with a singular objective in mind. He’s so focused on succeeding in this endeavor that it makes him look so stiff. Under any other circumstances, you’d find it cute. “Mother always knows what’s best for me. Obviously you’ve met her criteria if she���s hired you.”

“Spoken like a true mama’s boy.” Seeing as this is now your unavoidable fate, you reach up to touch his shoulders. He jolts, his initial glare softening. You tamp down another giggle and massage up and along his arms. “Relax a little. Don’t rush so much.”

Or do. Let’s get this over with before your mother catches us.

Riddle traces two fingers along your labia. He’s quiet as he takes all of you in, and when he sinks three fingers into your gooey heat his breath catches in his throat. “Are you… D-Do you feel good?”

You reach for his unoccupied hand and guide it to your clit. Riddle understands the suggestion well enough, for he massages you slowly. Sucking in another breath, you nod at him.

“Not bad. You’re getting there.”

His neglected cock throbs at the praise, and so you wrap your fingers around it to give it the same amount of attention he’s currently giving you. Riddle grits his teeth at the contact.

“You can move your fingers. Don’t just focus on my clit.”

“Ah. Right. Of course,” he babbles dumbly, so swept up in everything that you are, so very eager to please.

You’re like a work of art pinned to his desk, a delicacy more forbidden than anything from the bakery. Sugary-sweet, adorned in skimpy ruche, you’re a temptation laid bare. Delicately, as if you might shatter, he curls his fingers to press up against your insides. Riddle watches you arch up towards him, your hand working his cock maddeningly slow and steady. It feels good—better than anything he could have ever imagined.

His eyes trail from your lips to your tits to your pussy stretched around his fingers. “Do you have any plans for this summer?”

The sudden question catches you off guard. You were expecting something related to sex, not whatever this new shred of curiosity is. Still, that doesn’t stop you from dragging him closer to the edge of ecstasy with every tug of your fist.

“Why?”

“I… I’d like to get to know you.”

“Me?”

“Of course. You’re more than a body to me.”

“How charming. I just—” You frown, unable to follow where he’s going with this. “Why?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Even though he says it like it’s a fact, he looks shy. “I want to know you.”

“Uh… Yeah… Okay.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Not that… It’s just hard to imagine you having any girl friends.”

Riddle rolls his eyes and grinds his thumb into your clit. You bite back a whine as his fingers pump in and out of you. “Is that space open or closed?”

“You know which one.”

“You could be the one to close it.”

You meet his eyes then. For a short minute, the two of you hold each other’s stare. And then, breaking free from his hypnotic hold, you squeeze his length gently. He shudders, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks.

“And what about you? You excited for your first year?”

“Mm, yeah,” he murmurs, rutting into your hand. His fingers spread you open, scissoring gently.

“Just make sure to take time for yourself. Have fun. Live.”

“What did you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you were at school—how’d you manage?”

“I never went.” He opens his mouth to interject, but you beat him to it. “Couldn’t afford it.”

“Oh…”

“It’s fine! I’ve got plenty of experience in other things. I don’t need school for that.”

Riddle doesn’t believe your feigned optimism for a second. “If you could’ve gone, what would you have studied?”

You release his cock from your hold and reach up to pull his glasses from his face. Gingerly, minding the fragile frames, you set them aside. You lift your index to your lips, effortlessly coy. “It’s a secret.”

Before he can protest, you tap the hand at your cunt next. Riddle’s fingers, wet and shiny, slide out with a slick squelch. “I think you can do it.”

“What?”

“Go to school and study what you want. I believe in you.”

A wooden laugh tumbles from your lips. “Thanks for the encouragement, mama’s boy.”

“I have a name, you know.”

You smile easily. “You want me to call you something else? How does ‘good boy’ sound?”

Even though he tries not to let it show, his cock betrays his reticence with a small twitch. He’s an open book. Not wanting to give you the satisfaction, he lines himself up instead. Your fingers slip down to spread yourself for him.

“S-Slowly…” you whisper, stumbling over your breath as the head of his cock presses inside. Shallow at first before more inches fill you.

Riddle heaves a shaky gasp, his eyes wide with amazement. “I… I’m inside you…”

“How’s it feel?” “Warm. Soft. Snug. R-Really good.” He bows his head and digs his fingers into your hips. You think he has a dozen more adjectives on the tip of his tongue, each one just as fluffy as the last. “D-Do you feel good? It doesn’t hurt?”

“I’m fine.” You wind your legs around his waist to pull him closer. Your hands come to rest upon his shoulders once more. “Move your hips.”

Riddle does just that. His pace is awkward and inexperienced, every motion unsteady and jerky, as he searches for the right rhythm. He falls into it surprisingly fast, and it isn’t long until he’s smoothly rutting into you. You grab at his shirt, your breath coming in reedy huffs.

“Good. You—haa—good. You’re doing good.” Praise pours from your lips like a waterfall, plentiful and refreshing. It invigorates him, fills him with a confidence that wasn’t there before.

The soft slap of skin on skin fills the room. You keep your voice in check, lest you lose yourself and alert Mrs. Rosehearts. Riddle seems to be doing the same, even though it’s obvious he’s struggling much more than you are. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth to suppress his groans.

“You can touch me,” you whisper, petting his cheek. He blinks at you, his face aflame with a bright blush.

Nervously, he reaches for you and then pauses. Contemplation passes over his features. “What feels better? I want you to—no. I will make sure you cum. I’ve studied it, actually. I know how long it takes.”

“Look at you, doing your research like a diligent student. You want extra credit?”

Riddle chuckles and pinches your clit between two fingers. The rest of your teasing tapers off into a lewd squeal. “What was that about extra credit?”

“You’re awfully bold for your first time.”

“I’m not clueless.” His hips press inwards, plastering you to the desk, and his cock brushes that special spot within—the spot that has you seeing stars, your every nerve tingling with pleasure. You choke around a delighted gasp. Riddle, feeling victorious,  places his hand against your stomach, as if searching to feel his cock thrust up inside you. “Will I see you again after this?”

“If your mother wants me to come back and give you another pointless lecture on celibacy and safe sex, sure.”

“No, not that. Outside of this.”

“Don’t you have friends you’d rather hang out with?”

“I…do.”

“So spend time with them.”

Riddle doesn’t dignify that with a retort. With the way his eyes gloss over, you wonder just how many of these friends are within physical distance. The conversation stalls out into silence.

“You’ll make lots of friends at school. So many you’ll probably forget all about me.”

Riddle yanks your hips to meet his, driving himself deeper into your pussy.

“A-And you’ll find a nice girl to love if you’re looking for that kinda thing.”

“I am,” he confesses, breathless. “I want to get married and—mmh—start a family one day… I want to study law—become a lawyer… Mother thinks medicine suits me, but I can’t agree. Law is fascinating. It’s a perfect fit for me. Far better than medicine.”

You drag your thumb over your mouth, wetting it with your lipgloss, and then press it to his lips. The indirect kiss sends a tidal wave of arousal over him, darkening the tips of his ears in striking vermillion. You offer him a gentle smile while he recovers from that devastating flirt.

“I’ll make sure to hire you as my lawyer if I ever get into legal trouble.”

“You’d better not!” He laughs and shakes his head in amused disbelief. “But if you do, I’ll be there for you. Always.”

“Thanks, Riddle.”

Maybe I judged him too harshly. He’s not so bad.

In that stuffy study, just as the late afternoon gives way to red-orange streaked across a purple-pink sky, Riddle fucks you against that desk in all manner of rhythms. It’s when he finally picks up speed that you realize he’s nearing his end. You mirror his enjoyment, strung along by titillating touches and whispered words drenched in sweetness. You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve reached rapture alongside him, your pussy now brimming with cum. There’s so much it leaks out of your slick hole when he draws away, only to burrow his cock deeper to stuff it back inside.

The room reeks of sweat and sex. You think, if not your disheveled appearance, the smell will definitely tell Mrs. Rosehearts all she needs to know.

“I love you,” Riddle murmurs, and you’re about to ask him what he means—maybe he’s caught up in the moment and doesn’t realize what he’s saying—but then he lifts your legs up to fold you into a mating press. Coherent thoughts are knocked out of your head when he spills over, filling you up for the nth time that day. You shiver beneath him, eyes rolled back into your skull and tongue lolling out. You feel so stupid, fucked submissive by some inexperienced, upper middle class mama’s boy. Which isn’t even an insult with real heat to it, but in your hazy mind it’s all you can think of to describe him.

He grinds against you in the aftermath, panting from the exhilaration and adrenaline. 

“We need to…open the window,” you mutter, your heart thumping wildly in your chest.

Riddle admires your fucked-out expression in his sex-drunk daze. He slides out just as he feels himself going flaccid. Cum drips onto the desk below. Briefly, you struggle to recall whether or not you took your birth control today.

Something to consider later. Definitely not right now when you’re still clinging to the vestiges of your orgasm.

— — —

Mrs. Rosehearts knocks on the door, opening it to find Riddle sitting at his desk, jotting notes and occasionally pushing his glasses up. You’re standing at the blackboard, writing a list of the consequences of unplanned pregnancies. The room smells pleasantly of roses.

“Pardon my intrusion.”

You gaze at her and smile, wearing the clothes you arrived in. Nothing’s amiss. It’s perfect—thankfully. “Welcome back, Mrs. Rosehearts. We’re just about finished here.”

“Is that right? I assume all went well?”

“Very well. Your son’s a fast learner. Extremely talented.”

“I would expect nothing less.” She withdraws an envelope and hands it to you. “Thank you again for explaining it in realistic terms. Of course I doubt that my Riddle will act senselessly while he’s away, but as his mother I’m prone to worrying. Boys his age are so easily influenced.”

“O-Of course! That’s a very valid concern.” You force a chuckle.

If only she knew.

“Your pay is in that envelope. Should I ever require your assistance again, I’ll be sure to call.”

“Right… Thank you.” You hold it close to your chest. “I’m happy to help.”

You follow her out the door. She pauses to address Riddle. “Do continue reviewing your notes. We’ll convene for dinner in thirty minutes.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Mrs. Rosehearts walks you to the gate. “I wish you luck in your studies. If I don’t see you again at the clinic, have a pleasant summer.”

“Thank you. You as well.” You smile, fidgeting slightly. A bead of sweat tracks a path down your leg from between cum-spattered thighs.

Finally! With this I can pay my rent and still have enough for a treat from the bakery.

It’s worth it, or so you continue to tell yourself.

— — —

From the window, Riddle watches you make the walk to your car. He lifts his phone to fit you in the camera and snaps a secret photo. He continues to watch you until you’ve driven off and turned the corner, disappearing from his sight.

A tiny smile tugs at his lips.

Within his phone, put under a password lock, a special photo album exists. It’s filled with pictures taken from your social media—all of them. Every. Single. One. He’s resourceful when he wants to be. He can play the parody of a tech genius when he sets his sights on something.

And you’re just perfect.

[magicalink]

The "Experiment"

Albedo is quite obsessed with pussy. In a scientific way of course! And you're the only female close friend he has. So he asks you to let him run an experiment to exhaustively explore it. You accept. And you come to realize that he's interested in it in other ways too...

Taglist: @dainsleif-when-playable @chaotichearts-19 @huachengscrustybandages @scaraskzzs @mizokowashere @xxventiswindblumexx @twistedw0nd3rland

Cw: Albedo x f!reader smut. Use of the words 'sexual harassment' once but it's just part of a conversation, to clarify that this is not Albedo's intention. Pls this is just a very unrealistic fictional situation between two adult friends who are horny with each other but pretend not to be because one of them is not even human and both are socially awkward. Please if a doctor starts touching you like this try to run away and go to a safe place and report it as soon as you can!

A/N: Sorry for the delay, I hope that if you were waiting for this story this post finds you well and you enjoy it.

“Okay Y/N, I’m about to start,” the blond man said, his voice as silky and calming as always.

You gulped, looking up at him. You were lying half-sitting, not to mention half-naked, on his examination table. Your back rested on a soft pillow and your panties on a chair next to the table. Albedo had made you open and flex your legs, exposing your whole vulva for him to explore. He was hovering over you, ready to start his tests.

He noticed you were uncomfortable.

“Are you nervous, Y/N?” He asked with his ever-sweet voice, using that soothing doctor-like tone that he used to try and make you feel more at ease with him.

You shook your head, trying to look convincing.

“I'm just cold…” you replied, at least saying something true. Without your panties, your soft parts were feeling chilly. Even if his lab was well covered from the merciless environment of Dragonspine, it wasn't precisely warm either.

“Oh, don't worry, I won’t be using the cold metal medical tools,” he said casually. And you looked visibly confused.

“What are you using then?” you didn’t even finish your sentence when you saw him tightening up his gloves. But not the latex medical gloves! 

Albedo looked at your horrified expression and spoke before you could complain, aiming a warm smile at you.

“Again, don’t worry Y/N, these aren’t my everyday gloves, but a prototype of gloves specially designed for this kind of procedure.” he explained "They are completely clean, so you don't have to worry about any kind of infections."

“Okay,” you visibly relaxed on his hard, cold table. With that beautiful smile, with those beautiful eyes, you were unable to distrust him. You loved his eyes so much, they were eclipsing, calming. You got lost in them within seconds just like you always did. 

It almost felt unreal how you two were completely alone in the medical section of the lab. Behind closed doors. Just the two of you. You wished you could have an intimate conversation, learn more about him.

But then you remembered you were laying in front of him showing him your pussy and suddenly you couldn’t look at his face anymore, so you averted your gaze. 

You felt as if your cheeks were burning.

“You can start anytime,” you said, pretending to be calm.

He smiled again.

“Wonderful.”

And you gulped again, your heart beating so damn fast. Geez. His voice, his looks, everything about him was so mesmerizing. You felt like you were getting drunk on his presence. 

You made your best effort to not make the situation more awkward. To pretend this was a professional doctor-patient situation. To pretend you were not crazily attracted to him and to not make him feel uncomfortable. You didn’t want him to think that you were a pervert!

You tried to imagine you were somewhere else to avoid feeling aroused.

But it was hard.

You were so focused your heart skipped a beat and you made a little jump when you felt his warm fingers touching your pussy.

Again your cheeks felt like exploding.

“Relax...” he said, caressing one of your legs with his other hand, trying to get you to be less stiff. 

But he did you worse, since his silky touch on your skin sent a pleasurable shiver up your spine. You bit your lip in frustration. It was impossible to contain the wetness that appeared down there.

Albedo looked at your juicy vulva and gently pressed a finger in between the inner labia, preparing to slide it in.

You swallowed heavily and tried to breathe deeply, but it was useless since automatically your knees got pressed together and your pussy became wet and warm.

He tensed his lips when your knees wouldn’t let him see.

“Do you think you can open your legs wide for me?” he asked kindly.

Surprisingly, you were able to refrain from moaning something along the lines of “I could always have my legs open for you, Albedo.” with a stupid face and a sultry tone, and instead muttered a low “Sure” and complied slowly.

You hoped with all your heart that your expression didn't look lewd. You just never thought he would say such words to you.

“Relax Y/N, otherwise it will hurt”, he said with a kind smile and tone.

You nodded. But you begged it to hurt. You begged it didn’t feel good. You begged that no moans escaped your mouth so you contracted all of your body on purpose.

And it seemed like he was trying to torture you. To expose your true feelings.

He caressed the opening of your vulva vertically from up to down repeatedly with his thumb, while his other fingers were delicately massaging your outer labia. His other hand kept one of your legs in place to prevent them from closing. This made you go crazy. You were so horny!

What the heck were those gloves made of?! They felt amazing! Warm, soft, textured!

 You could feel how the area was getting more and more humid, and that seemed to please Albedo.

“See? That's better, the natural lubrication that comes from your body will help so that it doesn’t hurt,” he explained and continued giving you a pleasurable massage, caressing and touching, sinking his fingers a millimeter in just to pull them out again, playing shamelessly with your pussy until it was a dripping mess.

You arched your back in response to the pleasure and covered your ashamed gaze with the inner side of your elbow.

“I'm sorry.” you lamented. How sinful, putting up such a show for just a simple examination. It was impossible that he didn’t realize what was going on.

But he was immutable.

“Don't get embarrassed Y/N, it’s a completely normal reflex. When something gets in contact with the vulva, a woman's vagina starts releasing its lubricants to prepare for the insertion of something,” he explained in a relaxed and professional tone, showcasing all he had recently learned.

You cursed in your mind. 

“Sure, but it doesn’t get this soaked unless she is extremely horny!” you thought. But you just nodded, your eyes still covered. You couldn’t believe you were so desperate for him.

You just let him continue, now it was inevitable to keep your legs open for him, what was hard was containing the sounds of pleasure.

After caressing your whole vulva with his open palm one last time, he slightly separated your labia and approached the fingers of his dominant hand.

“Ready?”

You nodded with your still-covered face, trying not to cry and start apologizing for being such a pervert.

“Okay, I'm getting in.”

And with those very inciting words, he slid his index finger in between your folds, slowly entering your pussy. You gritted your teeth together when you felt him getting in, it was just too good.

He looked satisfied when your pussy accepted his finger, gradually wrapping around it.

“Just like that, veery well…” he dragged his words with a calming, deep, silky voice that made your legs spread wider and your pussy drip wetter. Then he started making a circular motion with his finger inside of you, making you rejoice in pleasure. It was so hard to pretend you didn’t like it so bad.

“Is it okay if I slide it fully in?” he asked.

You exhaled heavily through your nose, trying not to cry. “Why? Why do you have to pick such provocative words, Albedo?” you thought. It almost felt like he was doing it on purpose…

“Does it hurt?” he asked, a bit worried. It was still a bit hard for him to read your expressions. Were you putting up a good act after all?

“No, no, it’s ok. It’s just weird,” you said, again, at least saying something true.

“Ok, do you think you can take another one?” 

You were taking anything from him at this point. You just nodded.

“Ok, here I go…” 

Was it just your impression or was he dragging his words very sexily?!

After repeatedly getting a finger in and out of your pussy until it was stretched and relaxed enough, he inserted both his index and middle finger in, sliding them in slowly until they were both completely in.

Damn. His fingers were so long and slender. But the glove made them so thick. And your arousal made your pussy really tight around them, making you feel completely filled by them. He was stretching you with expert movements, causing too much pleasure to let it go to waste. You had to bite your tongue to avoid sticking it out.

“I’m sorry, Albedo,” you thought, surrendering to the satisfaction of his hot agile hands. “It’s impossible not to enjoy this.”

You sat back and relaxed, allowing your blush to break free and go up your body, painting it a soft pink.

You finally let out a sigh, tired of battling. The only part you kept hard was your face, furrowed in a wince to cover your sinful delight.

“Does it hurt, Y/N?” was he really fooled by your expression? Such a smart man?

“Yes…” you struggled to pronounce. How shameful, lying to Mr. Albedo like that. To such a proper man…

“How about this?” …or was he??

You witnessed in disbelief how he used his thumb to gently rub on your clit while he kept scratching your g-zone with his index and middle finger.

“Ah…” a soft moan finally escaped your lips. You locked eyes with him, accusingly. He gave you an apologetic smile.

That made you snap. All of this time feeling ashamed and blaming yourself for feeling so aroused! But now it was clear to you that none of the things he did were innocent.

Both of your masks fell off. Such hypocrites. None of you were being professional. Both of you were lying, and in a very cowardly way, to avoid making the final move to admit their feelings to one another. But to taste the waters in this way? The epitome of unprofessional! The whole medical thing was just a façade! Shameless. Completely shameless. You didn’t expect something like this from him.

All of this "experiment" request was probably just an elaborate plan for him to see if you would bang him.

You were mad. But you had been thirsty for him for such a long time…and you never thought he would reciprocate. You were happy. No, you were more than happy, you were ecstatic. You wanted to jump to him from the table like a tiger to devour him.

But he was so shameless! He didn’t deserve it. Teasing you in such a way while pretending to feel nothing! Unacceptable.

You wanted him to go further, to expose himself, to reach a point in which there was no doubt that those were his intentions from the beginning. He deserved it. He had been such a bad boy. So if he really wanted you, he would have to earn it.

"Mr. Albedo, why are you touching my clitoris?" You asked with feigned innocence, hoping to make him feel guilty. "Is it part of the experiment?"

You watched in delight as his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat under his star-shaped birthmark as he gulped down nervously. But he managed to keep the rest of his calm façade.

"Yes, Y/N, don't worry. It's needed to make sure the experiment goes well." He said, projecting that aura of being completely sure of himself that he always had. But your very sensitive pussy could feel his previously relaxed fingers tense up inside of you. Shameless. If this dude wanted to bang you, he’d have to beg for it.

"Ok, I see." You smiled politely, doing your best acting ever, as you sat back and made yourself comfortable on the examination table. 

"Yes, let's continue…" he said with his deep and silky voice, sure he was back in control of the situation. He had no idea how wrong he was.

"By the way, Mr. Albedo," you said with an ample smirk. He looked down at you with a curious smile. Your whole demeanor had changed. You looked completely at home on his examination table, arms crossed behind your now laid back head, legs spread open around his arm whose digits were lost inside your warm depths "You never told me what this whole experiment was about." You said nonchalantly.

It was true. He had never told you the details. He had just pleaded you to help him and had earnestly told you that you were the only woman in the world he could ask such a favor from. And of course, that tactic worked, you had accepted with very little reluctance. Because you wanted to help him, of course, but also because of how big of a declaration of trust and intimacy that request was.

Even if he had pretended it was something professional. Even in those fake circumstances, you felt proud. To be the only woman close enough to Master Albedo, an artificial human who was often aloof to most people, seemingly uninterested in forming relationships with others. Your heart had raced at the thought that despite having Sucrose by his side for such a long time, the recent bond he had formed with you had made you the only suitable candidate for such a delicate matter. Because it meant that even if he didn’t reciprocate your lust and desire, he still felt quite close to you and trusted you.

And now here you were, unmasking Master Albedo’s true sneaky intentions. A wide, toothy smirk was splayed across your now confident face, satisfied that you caught him red-handed. Oh Archons, this man was reckless. He was simply unhinged. He loved to play with the limits of human relationships, tasting the waters as if it was an experiment, throwing savage jokes at people with the most subtle words and straight innocent faces. Despite not being human, he knew exactly how to treat them, how to play them. And that made you want to fuck him even more. He was so hot, so funny, so fucking alluring. And seeing his eternal confidence falter for the first time in your life was hilarious. You wanted to see the seemingly know-it-all, I-dont-have-human-desires chalkboy drool with a fucked-out face after being done with him.

“Ahem, well, Y/N, this experiment…” Albedo gulped, hesitating for a single moment before reading your expression, realizing how hungrily and shamelessly you ogled the golden, star-shaped mark on his throat, how wide and satisfied your grin was, how bright your eyes glinted with lust for him. And his smile came back to him, stretching his lips in a grin that reflected relief and also sweetness. 

“The experiment was a success,” he said, looking down at you with a fond expression. You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics.

“Oh really? Why so? What were you testing, Master Albedo~?” You kept on punishing him with your teasing. You weren't letting it slide, he didn’t deserve it. If he really wanted you, he would have to admit his sin, and his feelings for you.

You watched, delighted, how his Adam’s apple bobbed yet again under his golden star with a lewd sound. You could swear his pants had already tightened. He had told you numerous times you had no need to address him so formally. Yet you were always “Mr. Albedo this, Mr. Albedo that”, and despite him desperately wanting you to address him informally for some confirmation of closeness, that did things to him. 

And now you called him “Master Albedo” to punish him? Archons, that did make him feel things previously unknown to him. He had never felt anything like that before, much less for such a silly nickname. Sucrose called him like that all the time, and he had never felt anything weird about it. Yet here you were, making him feel things. Crazy things. He already knew you were special to him because you made him feel things he had never felt for a human, or for anyone, before. And this only fueled his wild desire for you further.

And now it was clear.

“The purpose of the experiment was to confirm or deny if you bore any kind of sentiment towards me,” he said with a kind smile, looking down at you with his ever-calm and soothing eyes. “And given the results, I think I can confidently say that you share the feelings of fondness and desire I bear towards you.” He finished in a conciliatory way, begging for forgiveness with that sheepish smiley face.

“You know that in the human sphere, this could be considered deception, abuse of power and sexual harassment, don’t you?” You asked with an expressionless face, taking a disinterested look at your nails. Albedo’s already light skin suddenly went completely pale, his cyan eyes opening wide as saucers in a terrified glare.

“Wait, r-really?” you heard him stutter for the first time in your life. The hand he had inside your pussy felt like it had turned to stone and he used the other one to grab a big notebook from the bookshelf, one full of papers and loose notes, that he skimmed frantically, trying to decipher where he went wrong.

“Yeah. I hope it’s not necessary for me to write a report to the Knights of Favo…” you continued with your cold act. But Albedo couldn’t care less.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, his ice-blue eyes filled with worry. He kept his fingers inside of you, scared that, as he had studied, pulling them out suddenly would hurt you. “Did I offend you?” 

You dropped the act and gave him a satisfied smirk because he passed the test, he had the reaction you had hoped for.

“I’m gonna forgive you just this time, because you’re not a human and you didn’t know what you were doing,” You said with a smug grin, observing him up and down, checking him out, still lying back with your arms comfortably crossed behind your head.

You could see Albedo quietly sigh in relief. He, who didn’t need to breathe. His body visibly relaxed and his skin recovered its natural color. He was about to make some snarky comment to try and get the upper hand again when you shushed him:

“But from now on I expect you to get your research on humanity right, chalkboy,” You said teasingly with a toothy grin.

And you heard him gulp. That golden star in his throat bobbed deliciously again, making you want to just jump at him and bite it already. But you were making him beg. And you felt triumphant upon seeing his reaction.

Chalkboy. His lips curled in a smirk. He felt giddy inside. You swore you could see his gray trousers getting tighter again. He took a step closer to you, who still laid arms crossed and legs open in his examination table, smiling wide at him.

Chalkboy. Did you really just call him chalkboy?

A year of battling for you to stop calling him Mister and now you were finally engaging in playful banter with him, and even called him a nickname? A mocking nickname on top of that??

To him that was the pinnacle of human interaction. He had been experiencing human-like sexual phenomena due to you for a while, but now you just gave him the stiffest boner of his life. He had been experiencing desires lately, but just now you made him straight up wanna fuck like he was made of flesh and blood and had the same animal nature that built your cells. He wanted to mix his cells with yours, in the filthiest way possible.

Chalkboy. He loved it. His experiment was a success, now he knew that no matter how you called him, whether it was with honorifics or informally, it made him feel good in different ways. But if you called him chalkboy…

“My dear Y/N, I promise you that from now on I’ll be much more careful in my research with human relationships,” he smiled sweetly and flirtatiously, hovering over you on the examination table, his free hand caressing your cheek “I want to kindly ask you: if you do indeed reciprocate my fascination towards you, do you want to be my partner in this journey to study the complexity of human relationships? I promise this time there will be no more secrets between you and me, and I want you to be the one to guide me,” he asked with a sweet gaze, his eyes hypnotizing you more than ever. You had never seen them filled with such fondness, with such affection, and most importantly, you had never seen them glazed with…lust.

That apology, that display of affection, and that confession of desire were enough to your hungry heart, so you smiled back at him, your heart racing excitedly. You giggled and held onto his hand that was on your cheek with both your hands in an equally affectionate way.

“My dear Albedo, I’d be delighted,” you said with a sweet smile that turned naughty when you pulled him closer. “I’m no expert though, I still have so much to learn too, and I’d love to do it with you.”

Both of you giggled when reading a second meaning in your words. You felt your pussy throb when you saw Albedo’s face contort in a teasing, seductive expression, and then you remembered his fingers lost in your depths.

“You don’t know how happy I am, Y/N…” he whispered, slowly starting to move his fingers again inside your folds that instantly reacted to his caresses. They started to renew the lubrication around his fingers, and a little mewl of pleasure escaped your lips. Albedo placed a finger from his other hand on them, as if studying your mouth and your reaction, lust and curiosity battling inside of him to take control. Before he could lean down to kiss you, you interrupted.

“What’s up with these gloves, Albedo?” you protested, tugging at the glove on his hand that was on your face. They were in the way, you wanted to be with him skin to skin “Did you make them with the sole purpose of sticking them in my privates or what?” You chuckled.

“Yes,” he smiled. The excitement he felt each time you called his name without honorifics was still hard to contain for him “I built them to ensure maximum pleasure.” He said, recovering a bit of composure.

You looked at him skeptically. You had asked that as a joke, you weren't expecting something like that. You were impressed. Human men would invite you to dinner (at most) if they wanted to fuck. But this chalk boy went all the way to build a sex toy, something you didn’t know if it even existed in Teyvat to begin with, for you. You let that sink in, observing him with your mouth agape.

Hm, first Venti and now him. This thing of fucking supernatural beings was going to become a custom, you could feel it in your blood…or rather, in your clit…

And it was the most exciting thing that you had ever felt in your unnaturally long life. After centuries of numbness and dullness, this was the kind of thrill that made you feel truly alive for the first time ever, something that you only experienced since you woke up in Teyvat less than a year ago. So you held onto those feelings and sensations for dear life.

“It does feel pleasurable,” you smiled up at him. The gloves made his slender fingers double the thick, absorbed the heat of your body to make them extra warm, and even had the texture of round tacks over its surface, letting him scratch every single pleasure point inside your folds with ease.

“I’m glad they work as intended. I really wanna put them to the test right now…” he said and you knew he meant business. The way he started fingering you stole your breath away and now you were moaning as your legs threatened to close again from the sensitivity.

“W-were you investigating how to finger a woman too??” You giggled teasingly in between moans, his deft fingers working wonders at turning your pussy into a drenched mess.

“Of course. I wanted to ensure that I would be able to take you to the point of orgasm,” Albedo nodded, his words still too methodical for your amusement.

“And where did you study that? Did you ask Kaeya for tips?” you stifled your giggle with your hand.

Albedo laughed as well, enjoying this moment of intimacy and bonding with you.

“Of course not. I’ve just been studying the anatomy of the vulva and the vagina, and taking into account the numerous…” you interrupted him.

“Come here,” you said softly, your eyes softening as well. You motioned him to pull his fingers out and to lean further down, pulling him close on top of you. You looked him in the eye, you looked at his lips, at his star birthmark, then at his eyes again.

You both locked eyes, lids slowly dropping and pupils gradually dilating. Albedo liked this. The beginning of intimacy. Studying it was fascinating. Experiencing it was enrapturing.

“No more books for a little while, ok?” You whispered, running your fingers through his gorgeous blond hair that you had always dreamed of touching. It felt like silk. Golden strands of silk sliding between your fingers “Just for a while. Just two people who like each other and want to be close…” you proposed, blushing profusely at the implication of your words “C-can we?”

“Y/N, I…” his golden eyebrows rose over his icy eyes, mouth agape as a little breath escaped his delicate lips again, even if he didn’t need it. He hesitated. Many thoughts coursed through his mind, his expression looking somewhat guilty.

“Please,” you implored with your eyes pulling his hand away from the quill and the notes “You can write down your notes after we finish, ok?”

“But what if I forget…?” Albedo sighed with a longing expression.

“Nothing worth remembering will happen if you don’t come close and focus on me. On us,” You said blushing, looking at his lips to avoid his gaze, embarrassed “This experiment is very different from the ones you normally do. Trust me, ok? I’m no expert, I’m new to this too but the only thing I’m sure about is that you just gotta relax and flow with the moment…I learned that the hard way,” you whispered, getting your fingers lost in his golden hair.

“Y/N…” He mumbled, looking down at you as his lids slowly covered his blue irises.

You tensed. How to convince this chalkboy? You started to babble with a pleading tone:

“Please. It’s different. Because even if you’re still the scientist who wants to analyze the data, this time you’re part of the phenomena you want to study. And this is not an exact science, if you don’t focus and let loose that phenomenon is not going to happ…” Finally, his lips clashed against yours, ending your insistent speech. Finally, you convinced him.

“Y/N…” he mumbled again, his intense eyes piercing yours with a longing gaze “I wanna make something unforgettable happen now. Not just something worth studying, something worth remembering. For both of us.” He admitted. You saw him blush for the first time, unsure if he had done the right thing by kissing you like that.

“That was a great first step…” you smiled sweetly, calming his nerves, and pulling him closer.

It felt weird when he held you while his hands were still covered in those textured gloves, but the kiss you exchanged was so good nothing else mattered at that moment. His lips felt so nice. Solid, cold, rough, but in a nice way. You pulled him even closer until he was straddling you on the examination table, making it creak. 

You made out while you caressed his hair and scalp, he smelled and tasted so good. Like vanilla, sweet flowers, and…somehow, icy. His body felt so unnaturally cold to the touch that you felt the need to give him a bear hug to warm him up. 

Meanwhile, Albedo felt in heaven. So in heaven, he let go of the quill and notes. More than anything, he was a curious soul and loved having new experiences. And this was his first kiss ever. So he also allowed himself to explore something new without monitoring it meticulously for the first time ever. It was like a whole new world of exciting things had been opened in front of his eyes, along with a new challenge: learning everything about it without endless analysis and report sheets. Just two people, exploring their bodies and letting themselves burn in the tension and the feelings that had been building up for months.

“Umf…” Albedo kept discovering things about himself, and he loved that. First, he discovered he was an avid kisser. He kissed you exploring every nook and crevice of your mouth, enjoying the new world of smells, flavors, and textures that was your body. He kissed you with no limitation because unlike you he didn’t need to make pauses to breathe.

“Sorry,” he chuckled with a sweet smile, releasing you as you started to gasp for air. “I think I’m finally getting carried away…” a smug smirk played on his pale, delicate lips.

“Great…” you smiled back, truly glad, as you normalized your breath before placing your hands on his shoulders.

He was so lost in the kisses that it took him a bit to realize that you were tugging at his clothes. Right, this experiment had more steps. He wanted to experience more! 

“Want me to disrobe…?” He asked with a kind yet teasing expression.

“Please…” you nodded, blushing when you realized just how needy you sounded, getting bright red when he chuckled in response. All that horniness you had been trying to suppress for so long finally had the chance to escape.

Between giggles, Albedo balanced himself on his knees while you tried to help him undress. You were of very little help in undoing the intricate belts and buttons of his eccentric attire (which you wondered if never got uncomfortable for him to wear), but he appreciated your intention nonetheless. 

You felt a little flame rise in your lower belly when he discarded his giant coat and you saw him in a plain blue shirt, undone buttons exposing that star on his neck that you wanted to devour so much. You took your hands to the shirt and this time you were quick to undo all of its buttons, revealing his lean and slightly toned midriff. 

Fuck he was hot. His alabaster-like skin had a subtle ethereal glow, just like his hair. He looked like some kind of angel. One with a very horny look on his face. Your heart raced, you had never seen him like that. You had seen his eyes with a teasing expression countless times before, but never lit up with desire. You couldn’t believe you were the one he desired. You didn’t understand how or why, but there was no point in questioning it right now, you just had to take this opportunity, he wanted you as much as you wanted him. Maybe even more…

You caressed his shoulders when you pulled his shirt down, leaving it hanging from his elbows because you thought he looked even sexier that way. His skin was smooth, soft, and his flesh was firm. 

You pulled him down on top of you and you entangled in a passionate kiss again, your hands pawing at each other’s hair and backs.

You had to make little pauses to breathe, making his desire grow uncontrollably for more and more. He liked experiencing for once a feeling so strong that he had to make an effort and restrain himself so he could give you time to get your much-needed oxygen. 

In one of your pauses, you finally acted on your primal desires and placed a hand on the back of his neck to press him down onto you and bit his star-shaped birthmark. He let out a joyous moan he didn’t know he was capable of producing as you licked and nibbled at his golden star, his Adam's apple protruding under his delicious neck. Damn, just damn, you turned him on in a way he had never felt before. He didn’t need oxygen. He needed you.

“Ah…” you moaned too when you felt him hump your bare pussy, arousing you further. You looked down and saw his slacks bulging needily. You blushed when you realized you had stained his fly with your juices.

Albedo had no option but to let go of you even if for a brief moment to release himself from those pesky pants that were getting in the way of that desperately needed connection with you. He looked down at himself for a moment to admire, amazed, the way his pants formed a tent like never before. This, too, was a new experience for him. He had been having these physical reactions for a while, when his desire got awakened by you. But he had never been this stiff, this throbbing. This desperate. Like he was finally part of the animal kingdom. He liked it. He enjoyed it. 

He quickly undid his metallic belt with a swift movement, making a lewd sound that made you arch your back, and just the sight of your pussy bucking up and pleading for him made him open his eyes hungrily and he throbbed again. He needed you right now, so he didn't even bother to take off his pants. He just unbuttoned them and pulled them down enough to take his aching cock out.

He looked at it for a brief second, still taking in the sensation of seeing and feeling himself like that for the first time. He had never been so erect, so worked up. His cock was so sensitive that every pump of his artificial blood felt nice each time it made it throb, swaying slightly as it poked out of his underwear.

You were mesmerized, almost drooling as you saw such a delicious sight. That cock was so perfect, so immaculately white under its golden frame, pale pink hues etched delicately onto the pulsing veins on its upper side and onto the desperate tip. He was bigger than you expected. Not too big in length, but in girth. He was so thick it made your pussy throb in anticipation. 

It was such a piece of eye candy that you made a futile attempt to get up from your laid position to try and grab him to, put him in your mouth. But Albedo didn’t even realize, and he didn’t give you time to do it. He was so enraptured by this animal awakening that he pushed you back down onto the table without even thinking. His hand was wrapped around the base of this organ that captured your attention so much, holding it firmly just to push it directly into your needy core. 

And that’s exactly what he did. He didn’t waste time. He used his hand to guide it like he knew what he was doing and you felt its pale tip rub against your clit before it slid effortlessly into your drenched depths.

“Ah…~” a needy moan escaped your lips as you finally got the desires you had been suppressing for months fulfilled in an abrupt thrust that stretched you out just the way you liked. 

As he released the base of his cock, he gave you an analyzing look to check if your whimpers meant that he was hurting you or making you feel good. And the dilated look on your pupils, drunk on pleasure over your flushed cheeks, was enough to make a wildfire ignite in his chest, ready to fuel that movement he had been studying tirelessly but which motivation he had never comprehended before this very moment.

His hands and knees rested at both sides of your body on the examination table as he loomed over you, his spine curved to position his face oh so close to yours. Out of your daze, you opened your eyes only to find his, burning despite their icy color like never before. You felt a rush of emotion, a blush that crept from your stomach up to your cheeks. You wrapped your legs around his narrow hips and your arms around his neck, caressing the hair on the back of his head, pulling him closer, making him yelp. But he quickly adjusted, a sweet giggle erupting from his defined lips. You exchanged amused and complicit smiles at this newfound connection. Neither of you could believe this was finally happening. It was like an impossible dream. And as if afraid that it could end at any moment, you wasted no time.

One of his hands propped him up, the other one found its place on your temple to hold it firmly and rub circles on your skin with his thumb. You tilted your hips, pulling him close into you with both your limbs and your hungry insides. He moaned again, feeling you suck him deeper and deeper. Deep until he hit the very bottom. And just When he thought there wouldn’t be anything else capable of turning him into an animal, he hit your cervix with his tip. And that’s when he lost himself.

“Archons…” he trembled as he knew this was the first time he was letting loose for real and losing control. He pulled all the way out just to thrust back in in a sharp motion that made you moan, only fueling his lust further. And then the studied, previously foreign motion felt natural, like a need he didn’t know he had. Back and forth, in and out, until the edge of the examination table rattled against the wall relentlessly.

As his thumb rubbed shakily onto your cheek, you pulled him impossibly closer, your bare legs wrapping tighter around his slim waist. It felt so damn good. The gloves had been amazing, but Albedo didn’t fall behind. His cock was so goddamn thick it filled you up in a way that made you wetter and wetter, slick dripping down your entrance and making a mess each time he pushed in and out. It rubbed so well every crevice, scratching those spots that tingled so tasty…

It was perfect, amazing, wild. Forehead against forehead, your sweat tainting his cold skin, the lab was filled with sounds so lewd they took your lust up a notch. The creaking of the examination table, suffering under both your weights, its slamming against the wall until the paint was dented, and the squelch…the squelch your drenched pussy made each time his cock pushed back inside was maddening.

His cock was cold like the rest of his body, further stimulating you until you lost all shame and started moaning as you observed his handsome face. Your heat warmed his body, and your sweat made his soft skin shimmer. Crazed out of pleasure, you bit his star again, a strangled moan erupting from his throat as your hands got lost in his blond hair, messing up his usually neat braid.

“Bedo…” you moaned, and that was his sweet demise.

It was too much. This wild experience, this sweet pleasure, and the fulfilling intimacy of you calling him a nickname in that lust-filled voice.

“Haah…” he couldn’t keep it in. The control slipped out of his hands for real for the first time in his life and it felt amazing. The orgasm hit him like a fucking truck, making him see white and making his always crowded mind go completely blank.

“Y-Y/N…” he moaned desperately, his already deep voice sounding breathier and huskier than ever before. Realizing what was happening, you held him even tighter as he rode his high for as long as he could.

As thick ropes of not exactly cold but unnaturally lacking in warmth cum spurted deep into your body, Albedo felt his mind heavy and hazy. He let out a guttural groan that made you horny as fuck, and kept pumping his semen inside of you, yet another new side of himself awakening this fateful afternoon. He felt as if he was an animal too, as if he was possessed by some kind of organic need to reproduce.

If he could, he would be sweating more than you, his brow furrowed in effort, pumping in desperately until his cock wasn’t hard enough to do it anymore. With another groan, this time of frustration, he collapsed on top of you.

“Ngh…” he sighed, and the examination table creaked and hit the wall one last time as his movements finally died down, his whole weight rested on you.

“There, there…” you said softly, still blushing a bit, but recovering your thinking and speaking capabilities now that he wasn’t pleasing you. You rubbed his back gently with your hand, hugging him.

Albedo took some moments to savor this delightful moment: the triumph of finally achieving the physical and emotional intimacy he had wanted with you for so long, the success in transcending the theory of this ritual he had studied tirelessly to finally experiencing it for himself, the post-orgasmic bliss, the memories he would never forget…

“I’m sorry…” he whispered after a while, his voice still husky and sexy to your lustful ears.

“S-sorry?” you raised your brows in perplexity “Why are you sorry for? I already told you that I forgive you…” you mumbled.

“Not for that,” he chuckled, finally recovering to slowly lift himself back up onto his hands to straddle you again “For releasing before you…” he said with that irresistible breathy voice, finally managing to steady himself onto the table. You found his relaxed expression and disheveled appearance beyond hot.

“Ah, don’t worry, that happens,” you said, blushing, despite the fact that that very rarely happened to you with Venti.

You saw him pull out of you with a very careful motion, your still needy pussy throbbing in frustration. You wondered what the hell was going through his mind as he placed his hand on it and separated your labia a bit to observe his semen pour down onto the table. You had never seen that look in his eyes before. You had never seen him bite his lip either. That made you blush even more.

“No, Y/N, you don’t worry. I’m not letting you go unfulfilled,” he replied with an enigmatic tone, engrossed in observing the white substance gushing out of your body.

A million questions ran through his mind. Regarding the full extent of his nature and existence. Regarding the possibility of his seed yielding any kind of fertility. His ever-curious nature came back to him recharged, now fueled by this previously unknown desire to breed.

“Oh…really?” was all you managed to mumble, looking up at him with red cheeks and again wondering what the hell was going on in that freaky mind of his. Up to this very day, you had always thought of Mr. Albedo as a very proper man. But now you were starting to realize that he was a weirdo.

“Most certainly,” he smiled with satisfaction as he tightened both textured gloves and pushed two fingers back into your needy core.

“Hyah!” you moaned, gripping the sides of the examination table. It didn’t matter if he was a weirdo, he was a weirdo who made you feel good.

“Does my invention have your approval, Y/N?” he asked, looking down at you with icy blue eyes full of hopefulness.

As he explored all of the pleasure points he had carefully studied in the few books that he had managed to find, all you could do was nod in between moans and give him a weak thumbs up.

You inhaled to tell him something, but he interrupted you again:

“I’m so glad. I wanted to ensure maximum pleasure. Please let me show you the full extent of the potential of this device!” he smiled, clearly excited to show off his creation and gain your validation. And then came your sweet demise.

Because with the push of a button, the textured gloves started to vibrate. To fucking vibrate.

Ah, Archon-forsaken Albedo…he could be as much of a freak as he wanted! This was too much, too much…did this even exist in Teyvat? Had he just built a gadget that he could patent and get rich?

You didn’t know. All you knew was that now you were the one throwing your head back and moaning in pleasure, louder than ever before. So loud that you were lucky you were alone at the lab today.

“Is it good?” Albedo smiled down at you, his artificial heart beating excitedly in his chest.

Your moans were ragged, not pleasant or erotic to the ears at all. They sounded more like an agonizing animal. But they showed just how much of a good time you were having. And that made Albedo giggle in pure satisfaction.

He kept fingering you, and pressed the vibrating part against the head of your clit until your hips snapped and you let out a loud and labored moan. And then the disaster.

The vibrations that were applied to the head of your clit traveled through your nerves until they reached your brain, turning it into pudding. Your mind went blank, and your body reacted in a way previously unknown to you.

“Mesmerizing…” Albedo mumbled in utter fascination as you came undone, panting and moaning, and let out a generous squirt of warm whitish liquid that stained everything, tainting the air with yet another pungent aroma.

“Al…bedo…” you moaned weakly, trying to apologize as your brain was trying to recover its solid state.

“Don’t worry, it’s perfect,” He said softly, with a calm smile. With lidded eyes glinting with wishes untold, he observed the mess splattered all over his clothes and the examination table. His usual self wanted to collect all kinds of samples and his newfound animalistic side wanted to lick it clean.

“P-perfect?” You asked weakly, slowly closing your shaky legs to lay on your side and try to normalize your breath after that mind-blowing orgasm.

“Yes, Y/N, it was perfect. You are perfect.” He smiled, looking at you as if he was in a trance and scooting closer “You are so special. So very special…” he added with his silky voice, cupping your chin with a gentle hand to make you look at him.

You looked into his eyes. They were icy blue and pretty as ever. But there was something different in them you hadn’t seen before. At that moment, you had no idea what it was about.

Albedo was a very good host for the end of the evening. He helped you clean yourself and didn’t complain about the mess you had made in his lab. He cooked for you and you had a pleasant conversation over dinner, huddled up and protected from the cruel cold of the outside. You felt your friendship with him grow. When it was late and dark and obviously time to go, he told you to stay the night and to leave in the morning when it was less dangerous. “Crossing Dragonspine during the night is unwise and imprudent!” He had said.

And he was so hospitable so as to let you into his private room to sleep in his bed. So that was what you did. You slept by his side, snuggled into warm blankets that made the snowstorm outside seem like a distant dream.

Contrary to your expectations, there was no sex that night. You slept peacefully while Albedo was in the lab, and when he seemed to finish his experiments and came back to the room to sit on the bed, next to you, he continued to take notes on uncountable papers.

From time to time, he turned his head to see you and check if you were asleep and to squeeze your hand affectionately or pat your back in a soothing manner.

But you didn’t have any more sex. That night.

The next morning you left in peace, and you didn’t have sex with him again until months later, when you returned from Liyue.

In the letters you exchanged, the growing friendship and trust was clear and so were the intentions of repeating the experience. But both of you were ignorant of something very important about the other. Albedo was too subtle with his hints and you didn’t pick them up.

So the first time you returned to Mondstadt after your endeavors in Liyue, he took the chance and invited you for dinner.

That night, he told you about his desire to procreate with you, and you, flabbergasted, literally said ‘no, thank you’. He was surprised, and asked you why you had sex with him months ago if the idea of reproducing was so unpleasant to you. And you, shocked, had to admit that you just assumed he was sterile. Because he was...right?

Albedo had cleared his throat uncomfortably and had told you that he was not sure about this, that he desperately wanted to know if there was a possibility that he could have his own children. It was obvious to you that it was a sensitive topic for him. So it was hard to find the words and the tone to reject his proposal and keep your friendship intact.

How did you make it? How did you tell him that you had no intentions of having children, that your priority was to find your brother, that he shouldn’t feel down, that he would he a wonderful father even if he wasn’t a biological one, that now you were always taking a contraceptive herb given to you by some wise ladies in Liyue and that you two could have sex as long as you took that herb just in case he ended up being fertile?

Well, that’s a topic for another story.

This one ends here. But you never knew if Albedo was simply sterile or if that intense day at the lab you didn’t get pregnant because of pure luck.

Oof! I can't believe I finally posted this weird thing. I'm not sure I like how this one turned out, it has many incongruences because it was started in...2021!!! Can you believe that?? 💀💀 I'm literally not the same person I was when I fisrt started this drabble. I had to fix and rewrite the beginning because this was one of my first attempts at writing in english, I had no idea about english punctuation during dialogues and many other important things. I had to add quotation marks and commas to every single old dialogue 💀 Also upon re reading it I realized just how creepy the situation was originally so I rewrote it a bit to try and fix it? I dunno if I fixed it. Guess I witnessed things irl that made me open my eyes about certain things so I cut out parts that grossed me out and re wrote them. I know I wouldn't write something like that nowadays, it's impressive to see the changes on my writing and my thinking over time, specially over such a short period of time like 2021-2024, I usually focus on the changes from the things I used to write when I was in highschool. It would have been interesting if I had completed this fic back then and compare it to a new fic, but I didn't so I got this weird Frankenstein hybrid instead.

Not only you can see the messy seams in this piece because of the changes on my views but you can also notice the incongruence in Y/N's behavior 💀 This story happens before Y/N travels to Liyue from the first time, so she was still a shy and inexperienced woman, she just had her first love, first kiss, first everything with Venti and that is clear in the beginning, where I left the dialogues and inner thoughts I wrote back in 2021, while towards the middle and the sex scene she suddenly jumps to being the Y/N of the current version, who has seen lots of stuff in Teyvat and had tons of things to show to Albedo. Oops...💀 I tried to fix it so that she wouldn't be as forward as she would be now, but I really wanted to finish this fic and I found it really boring to write shy, inexperienced, insecure, passive Y/N, so in the name of having fun at writing I ended up with a thing in between. But honestly that part where she manipulates him and plays him like a fiddle is 100% post Fontaine Y/N and completely out of cronology. Tried to tone her down during sex to reflect her little experience, dunno if succeeded.

I don't entirely dislike this piece because I think it illustrates well the relationship I envisioned for Y/N and Albedo and I think their cringe and socially inept dialogues are on point to that. Albedo struggles with being overly formal without trying because that's just the way he talks, and shy, people pleasing Y/N used to mimic that, even if Albedo desperately wants her to drop the formalities with him and doesn't know how to ask for it properly. Yeah towards the sex scene that falters and current Y/N shows but oh well. Guess this is what happens when you leave a fic unfinished for 3 whole years. I wanted to take this off my drafts desperately. I want to finish those old projects I wanted out so I can make space for the new ideas I have! Lately I've been really in the mood for starting a new fic. And hopefully finish it within a year before I completely lose touch with the feelings and views that inspired it.

I started writing erotica ten years ago when I was 14 💀 And at first everything was so wholesome until I got unsupervised internet access and porn ruined my mind. I started this blog to slowly reconnect and reconcile with sex and sexuality and upon re reading the first fics I posted (*cough cough* the Scara ones specially*) I think that's working. And what happened over the years with this fic is a perfect example of that. Can't wait to see if I improved when I start a brand new one.

This fic was supposed to be finished and posted in March 💀 And we are ENDING JUNE 💀💀💀 My sincere apologies if anyone thought I was dead or dropped the fandom, the truth is that I still write a lot whenever I can, but because of university I have no time for organizing, editing and posting. At the beginning of the year, when I said I would post a fic per month, I was totally underestimating how hard sophomore year can be 💀 It was also super hard for me to finish fics about characters who are not Scara/Kuni/Wanderer 😳 I'll have some free time in a few weeks, so hopefully I'll gather the strength to polish and post all the raw content that's sitting dormant in my drafts.

I missed Tumblr and my blog so much 🥺 I wish I had more time for this. I have tons 9f unread notifications and no time to read them all. I don't even have time to read fanfics nor the books I bought for pleasure, because I need to finish reading for university 🥺

I dunno what or when (hopefully as soon as possible) next post or posts will be, so expect the unexpected 😅 Or make your requests, I'm working on two at the moment (that person who asked for Ei catching step-siblings Kuni and Y/N, if you happen to be reading this, I'm halfway through it, I swear!)

Anyway, I just hope all the people who voted for this fanfic like it if even a bit, despite it being a bit of a Frankenstein. It has some parts that I like a lot. See you next time!

[spookypete-94]

O-

GhostxFem!medic!reader

Reader is a medic that has been assigned to specifically take care of TF141. She learns just how difficult the lieutenant can be.

SFW, CW for- language, more then likely medical inaccuracies

You had worked next to Price shortly a few years after he started. Your impressive skill level always imprinted on him. After he became the Captain, he had sought you out specifically. The risks of the missions he was on he wanted someone he could trust on standby to take care of him and his men if something were to happen. Sure, you knew your way on the battlefield and could do basic operations if needed, but your area of expertise was caring for the injured. It was almost like you were hardwired and made for it, a natural.

Once learning Price had requested you, sought you for so long- it was a no-brainer to join him and his team.

"Ready to meet everyone?" He asked, his voice quiet but still carrying a booming effect.

"Sure am," she you replied, crossing your arms as he led her to his office. Inside stood 3 men. One that wore a blue hat in casual attire, the second one with bright blue eyes and a mohawk, and the other was a large looming man that leaned against the desk face covered with a skull balaclava, dressed all in black.

"Would like you all to meet the team medic, this is Y/N L/N. I sought her specifically for us."

Y/N stuck her hand out to greet everyone, shaking the first two, easily learning their names as Gaz and Soap. The third one, however, did not step forward to shake her hand. One could feel the distrust from his gaze.

Fine, You thought to yourself and instead stood next to the Captain again.

Price explained your duties and how you would be attending missions with them on scene, in your own helicopter, and would respond as needed.

"If I could have dog tags, just to have full name and blood type, I'd appreciate it. Makes it easier for me to log and store blood if needed."

Again, the first two she met and Price complied, handing their dog tags over with ease. The large one never left his stance from the desk, arms crossed, hands never reaching into his shirt.

"Lieutenant," Price said just shy of a scolding manner.

"No worries, Captain, I'll manage." you said, waving it off. Honestly, far from offended, dealing with difficult men your entire career, becoming used to it. Price looked at you, shocked, wondering how you would "deal" with it. Scribbling the information down, your own chicken scratch looking difficult to anyone else who might read it before handing the tags back. "Thanks," you said cheerily, handing the tags back. "Lieutenant," nodding in his direction still being courteous to him. "I'll be in the MedBay updating my records and starting carts for all of your needs. Hope you all have a pleasant day." Nodding, and stepped through the group of men.

Once the door was shut, they all turned to Ghost appalled by his behavior to such a kind woman. "Why ya' gotta be like that, mate?" Soap asked him.

"Don't trust new people," he grumbled, leaving them all to shake their heads.

Time had passed, you had her records all updated and built trust with three of the group she cared for. Not quite with "Skullface" though, as you called him. Being on the team with the TF141, means you still had to qualify on all weapons... leaving you at the mercy of the range with the grumpy Lieutenant as he was the instructor.

His tone came across condescending at the very start. The first weapon he picked was a handgun. He showed how to load and reload the mags, how to place it in the bottom of the guns and forcefully shove up to make sure the mags don't fall out. How to use the iron sights and the difference between red dots, the difference between calibers - things already known by you but dared not say anything wanting to make a point. He handed back the pistol, taking aim, and shortly emptied the clip, hitting the metal target in the center. The ping echoed, target shaking with each bullet. Managing tactical reload, dropping the mag, pulling the full one from your belt, reloading it, and doing the same thing.

"You know how to use a gun?" he asked stunned.

"I do."

"You could have led with that."

"Didn't want to interrupt your whole "spiel, "seeming it's the most you've said to me the entire time I've been here."

Behind him, Price stood smiling, arms crossed as he stood at the front of the range. Game, set, match, he thought to himself comically.

"Can we do shotgun next, or are you gonna break the basics down for me on that, too?" Your tone playing coy, making Ghost shake his head, handing her the shotgun.

The day was over faster than Ghost expected it to be, thinking you would be inexperienced.

"I'm sorry I treated you like that," Ghost said humbly as they picked up the empties.

"Used to it."

This answer caused silence among them both. You took it upon yourself that he was waiting for you to answer why.

"Most men in this field just see me as a nurse. They seem to forget that Medic's have to be battle trained, too. Used to being treated like that."

He turned to look at you. "Shouldn't be a medic, you're better than most of the soldiers I've seen in the field."

"All be it surprised, I'm a better medic, then I am on the battlefield."

"Have to be one hell of a medic then."

"I am." you said confidently, throwing the expended bullet casings into a bucket to be repressed.

How grateful you were, that it ended on a positive note between the two this time.

"Here," he said, going to hand her his dog tags.

"Don't need them any more."

Even though his face was covered, you could tell he was confused by your response.

"Got it taken care of." smiling widely to him, throwing your assigned weapons over your shoulder and heading back to the base.

You had left him preplexed and him watching that smile never leave as your legs carried you away. Satisfaction filling you, knowing you made your mark on him.

"Fuckin' hell," he said quietly to himself.

Inevitably, the day came. Ghost had found himself and Soap injured, Ghost was losing blood rapidly, taking the grunt of whatever exploded. They requested evac but had to wait for an extraction team to get to him. His conscious status was in and out, vaguely remembering you and your squad getting to him and Soap. Your facial features make you seem like you were is glowing, the light being so bright. If he had not seen your ability to be deadly, he would have thought an angel was standing before him from the golden glow.

The next thing he knew, he was on the helicopter, finally coming to. He started to sit up quickly, the sudden alertness making him realize what had just happened

"Sit your ass still," you growled to him.

Even as a threat, your voice calmed him, making him indeed sit still.

"Where's Johnny?"

"Next to you, across the bird behind the curtain, my team got him stitched and wrapped up. Hold still," You said, pulling his arm back to her. He realized you were stitching him, hand holding his arm close. Noticing the IV for fluid and another for blood attached into his other arm. There, he saw a rolling cart with "Skullface" wrote on the top where his name should have been, bags of O- blood inside it.

"My blood type isn't O-," he said, head rolling over to look at her.

"Mine is. It's the universal donor."

Finally, he realized what you meant.

"That's your blood?"

"Yup, been pulling mine off for your cart in case something happened since you wouldn't give me your tags that day."

He was silent for a bit. That was her way of managing... using your own blood to save him. "I'm sorry I was such an asshole to you."

"Stop. You already apologized. Just be grateful I did what I did and didn't leave you to bleed out." Some men just needed tough love.

Somehow, you had struck him. He was seeing you in a different light once more. How grateful he was for his mask because if it wasn't there.. you would be able to read his face. Adoration and all. He leaned back into the pillow, letting you finish and look him over. Fingers ghosted across his skin as you moved his body to be able to check for whatever it was you were looking for. No resistance was given by him now. You had earned just more than his respect and trust. Just on the ride back to base, you already had him stitched up.

"Still will have to do scans to make sure there is no internal bleeding, but have to do that back at base. I'm glad you're still alive." you said, patting his thigh in an area that you knew was not injured.

"Fuckin' hell," a phrase he found saying all too much with you. Eyes watching your walk away and prepare for landing.

Soap pulled back his curtain, smiling mischievously at Ghost.

"Not a fuckin' word," he grumbled to him, knowing all to well that Soap knew that Ghost had caught feelings for hyou.

Simon Ghost Riley Masterlist

[carnivorousyandeere]

Forever thinking about yandere therapists, psychiatrists, other health professionals…

CW: medical trauma, mental health care trauma

The trust you might have in them, or the distrust and fear that comes from previous medical trauma they’ll need to work around (or exploit)… the ways they can mess with your medications, the ways they can manipulate and gaslight you, the ways they can keep you physically restrained, the way they can isolate you from other patients and the outside world…

~~~

Managing to knock out a lone nurse or intern who’d been tasked with giving you your daily shots— a sedative, you’d figured out, even through the constant haze in your mind— leaning down to apologize to their unconscious form. You grimace at the mark on their cheek where they’d hit the floor.

Taking the needle, hiding it as best you can by crossing your arms, you make your way through the hallways, playing up how tired and confused you are. Your heart pounds at every other nurse and patient you pass. They watch you go by, curious but wary. They know better than to interfere with the lead Doctor’s pet project without permission, or good reason.

You find the lead Doctor in a hallway, surrounded by nurses and interns hanging on their every word. They turn to face you, concern clearly written across their face— “Darling, what are you doing out here?”

“I missed you,” you stumble forward sleepily, falling into their embrace. They wrap their arms around you, too flustered and shocked by the way you snake your arms around them in return to notice the needle in your hand, aimed haphazardly at their back.

The nurses, too fixated on the needle in your hand to notice the Doctor’s odd reaction, begin to lunge forward and yell. One grabs your wrist and forces you to drop the needle, one tugs the back of your slip, your expression turning furious as the Doctor’s turns understanding, shocked back into reality by the commotion—

You distantly hear yourself screaming, “No! No! Let me at em, that son of a—”

You get in one good swing, the Doctor stumbling back with a hand over their stinging cheek, before you’re sedated once more.

[tonguetiedraven]

So I was cleaning up a few manga panels for my other blog, and darn it, I need to talk about my thoughts on two scenes in the Shimane Illuminati arc (specifically chapters 61 and 62) because Kato deserves all the applause for everything. This post will be for chapter 61 and I'll post 62 later.

TW/CW for character death, medical abuse, and mental health struggles. Content below the cut.

First, in chapter 61 we get this heart breaking page when Tamamo Kamiki dies.

To get into what I'm seeing with this panel, I need to give a brief (or I'll try and make it brief) overview of Tamamo. Tamamo gets introduced to us in chapter 52 and the first panel we get of her is her sobbing into the camera that everyone acts so cold towards her because she is sleeping with the head priest and not married to said high priest.

We are then told that she was an irresponsible and careless woman by Mike. We find out three really important things though.

Tamamo is judged by the people around her and gets a cold shoulder

Tamamo relies heavily on her daughter and the byakko to have the house run at all and has dreams of a fantastic family and house she has shown no ability to actually run.

Tamamo is in love with the (shitty) Chief Priest of Inari and that he isn't married to her.

We then find out:

That Tamamo and her entire line have always managed the terrifying and unruly Nine Tails by assimilating the god and becoming her, and that the town/shrine distrust her because of that, even though she does it to protect them. They ostracize her for the duty her family has and they judge the entire family because she had Soji's children.

Notice Soji isn't in the judged club and that Soji has never seen his daughters. He's never been to her house. It is always her going to him.

This theme of ostracization is something that pops up over and over and over again in Blue Exorcist. Almost all of the main characters had a childhood that was lonely and where they were rejected by their peers--almost always for things outside their direct control and almost always in someway connected to demons, even if they didn't know it, but I'll get to that more in a moment. Suffice to say, at this point we can see that Tamamo is isolated outside of her illicit meetings with Soji (not at all healthy as we'll see later on) her interactions with the demons around her, and her daughters, neither of which are old or mature enough to offer her the type of companionship she's in need of, which leads to everyone in this tangled dynamic having unhealthy relationships with each other.

We see Tamamo seeking connections and affections and largely being rebuffed by it everywhere except Tsukumo and the byakko. Soji's affection has strings attached, and Izumo is too fed up to offer any affection. The other members of the shrine ostracize her and give her a cold shoulder, and I'd bet money that they're vocal about their opinions any time she's around. (And they likely don't care if the kids are around or not.)

What I'm getting at is that Tamamo is lonely and you see that in how desperate she is for approval and connection and it mostly comes out with Soji. She does whatever he wants to keep her connection to him intact. We've also had a few indications thus far in the manga that isolation and depression and poor mental health are things demons take advantage of. We'll get more explanation on that later on, but suffice to say that Tamamo is not at all in a healthy spot to be constantly risking possession against an immensely powerful and evil demon.

I'll be honest and clear up front that I have no love for Soji and think him deplorable and he did not do anything to help Tamamo that we see. Rather, it seems he exclusively used her for his own pleasures without any care for her or the consequences their time together had.

I also think it's important that everyone know that Nine Tails -- at least the Nine Tails in this story -- is based of Tamamo no Mae who is an infamous yokai in Japanese lore. She has a long and complicated history with her origins unknown and a lot of political manipulation, but an important thing to know about her is that she is always depicted as a child eater. She devours women as well, and thrives on seducing men. She's beautiful and powerful and alluring, and she's manipulative.

So generations of women manipulated and regularly partially possessed by Nine Tails down the line, we have a shrine and town that reject Tamamo and her losing her grasp on the one adult who 'likes' her, and we see this moment:

We see her staring at him, enjoying the light atmosphere and gathering her courage (the sweat drop in the panel has me thinking she's nervous about this because it's not the first time this convo has happened.)

She wants him to come to her house and is trying to make it as appealing as possible. She wants a family and the life she's been dreaming up.

Soji rejects the idea entirely and pushes further by saying if she asks for him to interact with the kids in any way he'll dump her. The one adult connection she has will be lost because of her children. (Not actually. It's because he's a dick but she sees it as the children being the problem.)

She then goes immediately to Nine Tails to do the dance of spirit invocation which we're told this about:

So Tamamo--who has been isolated and lonely for at least a large chunk of her adult life is now seeing the one connection she's made with another adult (and an unhealthy one at that) potentially break because of her children-- goes to assimilate the Nine Tails in that unstable and unhealthy emotional and mental state.

It is heavily implied that Nine Tails started to take her over at this point, and you see her become more and more obsessed with Soji and more angry with her children, further isolating herself away from the small amount of support and connection she did have until she's entirely possessed by the vengeful and malevolent spirit of Nine Tails.

She murders Soji and tries to do the same to her children before the Illuminati take her and subject her to years of torture, all while she's still possessed by the Nine Tails.

One more detail and I'll get back to the scene in chapter 61.

When Tamamo was last fully in control of her faculties and saw her daughter, she saw Izumo in the same place she was. Ostracized by her community with no one but their small family to lean on. Her daughter was doomed to follow the same path Tamamo had, and at this point, it looks like this was a cycle that had been going on for at least a few generations. Isolated and connection starved women raising daughters who were isolated and connection starved children. Tamamo became overly touchy and clingy to everyone where Izumo became mistrustful. (And man does she have a lot of reasons for that.)

Now back to chapter 61 and the moment Tamamo dies.

She wakes up amongst the chaos of the zombie hoard going towards possessed Izumo, and she immediately intervenes to get the Nine Tails spirit back inside herself to save her daughter.

That's important to understand for her. She moved before the next moment I'm going to talk about. She saw Izumo possessed and didn't seem to hesitate to save her daughter. She has been tortured for five years and immediately moves to start that horrible possession again.

But while she's dancing to contain Nine Tails in herself, this is going on in the background:

Each of the other teens in the room came to get Izumo and they're shouting their support of her even while they fight an endless hoard of zombies because they came to get her. Tamamo can hear that happening and she can see that they came to help Izumo.

No one came to help Tamamo. At no point did anyone ever come to rescue her or fight for her. She was blamed for everything and was left to bear all the consequences for five years. (I am not blaming Izumo for that. She was a child and was not responsible for saving her mother.)

But with "We're here for you!" ringing in Tamamo's ears, she completes the ritualistic dance and frees her daughter from the possession.

Tamamo in her dying moments looks at her daughter and sees a community around her that Tamamo didn't have. She sees people willing to intervene and help and fight even though Izumo is pushing them away and possessed and not easy to get along with.

Tamamo, from everything we saw, was isolated and rejected by her community and had no one to support her. She was manipulated and played by her significant other and left vulnerale to possession by a society that needed her to do the thankless job and hated her for doing the thankless job. She was bubbly and friendly and still pushed away and rejected and ostracized until she succumbed to Nine Tails.

back to chapter 52

Blue Exorcist talks a lot about curses and ostracization. All the main cast suffer from it in some way or another. They've all been called terrible things and most of them have been treated as if they aren't human, and a lot of them have complicated lineages and may not be fully human which just amplifies the amount they're rejected by their peers.

For Tamamo, that curse was literal and figurative. The literal curse was the constant absorption of an insane demon that eventually consumed her until she'd destroyed what little family she had.

It was figurative in that as the head priestess and medium in charge of the rituals, she was rejected by the community she needed to support her. She was left floundering on the outside, always given just a taste of what she could have had if she was born to a different family, and left with a longing for what she would never be given and always wondering why she couldn't have it. (And yes, I'm probably reading into some things and filling in the blanks with hypothesis and assumptions.)

But in that final moment, Tamamo sees that curse of isolation and rejection has been broken by Izumo. That her daughter, who like all the daughters of the Kamiki line was alone, is no longer alone. That she has friends and support. Support that followed her into this hell and reached out to call her back even from a demon like Nine Tails.

I don't know if I've made myself all that clear, but I love the way that Kato has shown this over and over again and keeps showing the rejection of isolation and ostracization as any kind of solution. That she keeps showing through each of these relationships and arcs that it's reaching for and connecting with other people that brings change and healing and hope, and I love how she shows that through moments like this. It's a little moment that's so easy to miss, but it's so immensely huge when looked at in the context of the entirety of Tamamo's life.

I wish she knew that they would have come for her if they'd known she'd been there all this time. I wish she'd have found a community to support her and I wish she'd had someone to tell her Soji was a dick and she could do better.

I wish she could see Izumo now, still connected to her friends and even though it's the end of the world, she's fighting with and beside them. That she's seeking out connections and learned her lesson about not needing to be alone. That she's teased and loved and welcomed.

But I'm pretty sure in that final moment, she saw it all anyway.

[gothic-thoughts]

(Un)Trustworthy

(I've been obsessed with mythical creatures lately so imma write a few fics to get it out)

König x Black Fem Reader Angst

Mermaid!Reader, MeetUgly

CW: Racism to humans, standoffish/mean reader

TW: blood mention, kidnapping mention, human experiment, PTSD (elements ig)

Word Count: 1032 (give or take)

After his team returned to the base, the Colonel was informed that something strange had caught something strange in the enemy territory. He was intrigued but wasn’t fazed, assuming it was just another weapon or something. He followed the seemingly eager soldiers to the airplane hangar and once there, his eyes widened in shock at the sight of her; a dark blue-tailed mermaid on the floor.

“Heilige scheiße(holy shit)......”

She looks around at the humans around with panic, baring cat-like fangs as she hisses, causing all soldiers to jump at the sound. Most raise their guns at the mermaid, unsure and fearing what they’re facing. Colonel König, however, slowly approaches the creature. She narrows her eyes angrily, immediately recoiling from the masked man and causing him to stop in his tracks.

He reaches his hand out to her to show the creature he is not a threat but her eyes remain slit and full of distrust as she hisses at the large man before her. König remains still, his face is calm and there is no fear in his eyes as the soldiers continue to aim, unsure as to whether or not the creature is going to hurt their commanding officer. He slowly brings his hand closer to her to which she slaps his hand away.

“Do not touch me, landwalker.” She snaps, “This is your first and only warning.”

König is surprised as well but he does not show it, waving his hands to make the soldiers lower their weapons. He steps back and clears his throat.

“You can speak?”

“Do not be flattered, I have nothing nice to say to you. My silence is more than your kind deserves.”

“My kind?”

The mermaid squints, “Yes, your kind. The stories are true, you humans are nothing but barbaric and cruel.”

“Barbaric and cruel? Is this... your opinion of all humans?”

“When I meet an exception, I shall alert you. And unless you intend to kill me, landwalker, back away. I rather die than be tested on by two groups of humans in one lifetime.”

A murmur of chatter erupts among the soldiers. Colonel König holds up his hand to shut them up before turning his attention back to the creature.

“We have no intentions to harm or test you, mermaid.”

“I am not dense, human. I know what you want.”

“What is it that you think we want, mermaid?”

“The same thing the last group of humans did before you quote unquote ‘rescued’ me; my scales, my hair, my tears, and my blood.”

“You were tortured?”

She winces in pain as she pulls her tail to her scale-covered chest to show the small exposed patch of flesh where shiny blue scales used to be.

“For your kind's cruel, violent experiments, yes I was.” She scowled, “My scales are the equivalent of fingernails, besides the fact that they grow and shed from my tail, like hair. And these landwalkers manhandling me here only made it worse.”

He steps a little closer, kneeling, “May I?” He asked, reaching out for her tail.

“What game is this?

“May I... examine? Your tail that is, I swear I’ll be gentle.”

While eyeing him intensely, she slowly extends her tail with a pained groan allowing the Kortac Colonel to cautiously grab it, holding it up in both large hands. He begins to examine the exposed bloody patch of skin in front of him, grimacing under his mask at the 10 small spots where the scales were plucked from.

“When did this happen?”

“A few days ago but they haven't had the time to grow back yet. Especially since they were ripped off.”

Colonel König nods his head, “Let me take you to our infirmary. Our medics will bandage it and you can rest it while it heals properly."

“You... how can I trust this isn't some land-walker trick?”

“We are not all like the other humans you have encountered before. Some of us have morals and values, so please...”

“...who are you, giant?”

He chuckles at her observation. “My name is König.” He kneels to her and holds out a gloved hand, wanting to solidify her trust, “Will you trust me? At least enough to carry you to our medical bay?"

“You intrigue me, König.” She rests her hand in his, “I will... I am trusting you.”

König smiles behind his sniper hood and lifts her in his arms, holding her against him. As he stood up, she quickly wrapped her arms behind his neck with a gasp as she was lifted from the ground.

“I've got you.”

He starts heading for the exit of the hangar with the mermaid in his arms. As they head for the medical bay, the mermaid sees that the halls in the base are filled with humans; some of them are working, some of them are relaxing, and some of the are just doing their own thing. What the mermaid doesn’t realize, is that all those eyes are on her. 

She hugs herself closer to his body, afraid and on guard as he walks past the people dressed like him. Colonel König senses her fear and immediately holds her even closer to him, wanting to make her feel protected against anything.

"They're not going to touch you."

"You're sure...?”

"It's a promise, mermaid, I’m not letting anyone close to you.”

“It's... I’m (Y/n)...”

He can’t help but chuckle again. "(Y/n), ja? That’s a beautiful name.”

“And I also wanted to apologize for insulting you.”

He chuckles, "It's okay, alright. If anything, I understand. We, uh, humans, aren’t the friendliest bunch most times."

“Oh, I'm painfully aware. But I'm apologizing to you.”

"Me? Me specifically?"

“Yes, just you... You’re the only human I’ve met to not view me for profit.”

He clears his throat as his cheeks warm up, "I can assure you that I do not see you for just profit. Of course, I can’t speak for everyone else but I see you as something more."

“More? More than profit?”

König nods. "More."

“Why?”

"I think... that might be a secret I'll hold for myself for now.” He winks, “Until we get to know each other better.”

[hihhasotherfixations]

A Hunter's Weakness - Kraven x Reader | Chapter 2

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CW: Graphic depiction of injury and death

Word Count: 1508

Rushing down the stairs, your employee pass swung back and forth from where it was clipped onto the breast pocket of your uniform, your colleagues running with you.

“Come on, hurry!” The floor leader yelled as you all ran through the hospital, towards the doors.

An explosion had gone off down town, the wounded proving too much for the ambulance staff to handle, needing nurses and doctors on the scene.

And that’s where you came in.

All of you jumped into the back of the ambulance, the vehicle’s tires screeching to motion as it instantly tore down the street, you and your colleagues in the back almost being flung around, had it not been for the fact that you were so tightly packed together.

What felt like forever, but was only a few minutes tops, passed until the ambulance arrived at the scene, the back doors getting thrown open.

Taking a little breath, you ran up and jumped out after the others, immediately looking around.

Firemen and police were already all around, three other ambulances present who were sitting by victims, more people scattered about – some laying, some sitting.

While you were surveying the scene, your colleagues rushed to the nearest people, starting to question and treat them, leaving you with no one in the immediate area.

“Firefighter EMT’s have more victims, go, go!” One of the policemen standing around yelled, pointing to a place down the street that was teeming with firetrucks and people in uniforms as they worked around a building on fire. Instantly, you and two of your colleagues rushed to move.

Steeling yourself, you held your medical kit tight and jogged into the chaos, swerving between smouldering cars and rubble.

Down the street and to the right, the alight building stood, the firefighters working hard to put out the flames. Even from here, the heat hit you and you  couldn’t help but stop in the middle of the street, the flames dancing in the reflection of your eyes as you watched the carnage for a moment.  

A frown suddenly marred your face as you felt something wet seep into your shoe and you looked down, only for your eyes to widen as you saw your shoe was right in the middle of a puddle of blood.

“Oh fuck.” You whispered, glancing around left and right from yourself until – to the left – you spotted another drop.

It was significantly smaller but fanned out into a trail of red – one which you began following without question. Moving around a car who’s alarm was still blaring, you got off the street and onto the sidewalk, continuing to track the blood into an alleyway between buildings.

Your heart began hammering as you walked into the shielded area, the blood continuing and the trail bending to disappear behind a stack of boxes.

“Hello?” You called out, not wanting to spook whoever was there. “I’m a nurse, I’m here to help.” You tried, getting nervous as you very slowly rounded the boxes, only to be met by a body laying on the floor.

The person was dressed in dark green and leathers, hood up to his face and a crossbow laying on his lap, pointed at you while he glared, laboured breathing making his chest go up and down.

Your heart sank as you saw the weapon pointed at you, your hands instantly going up in surrender, your medical kit awkwardly dangling in your hand. “I mean no harm.” You spoke softly, your eyes sliding from the weapon to the dark red stain in his abdomen, pooling below him as well. “I just want to help.”

You weren’t dumb, you recognized the man’s outfit and weapon, having seen it before, let alone on the news lately. He belonged to that new group. The hunters that had recently made their territory in the city.

You were sure he was far from a good man, the distrusting look in his eyes solidifying it. But that didn’t mean you’d let him suffer and die.

“Please, you’re going to bleed out.” You begged, watching the blood slowly spread on the ground around him, slowly inching towards you.

Hearing your words and looking down at himself, the man then grunted and moved his crossbow to point away from you.

Letting out a relieved sigh, you immediately got onto your knees, putting the medical kit on the ground and opening it up, putting on gloves before looking at him. “Can you tell me what happened?” You asked, reaching over to try and move his clothing, only to find that the leather wrapped around him was basically like an armor.

“I got hit by this.” He eventually spoke, an accent of something you didn’t recognize as he lifted up a long glass shard, half of it covered in blood.

“You took it out.” You spoke while taking in a sharp breath, reaching towards his side and grabbing the clasp. “I’m going to take this off to get to the wound.” You warned, unbuckling it a moment after and pushing it to the side, revealing a shirt underneath absolutely soaked in blood.

Without hesitation, you pushed the shirt aside and grabbed a clean cloth, pushing it onto the wound and pressing down on it.

Crying out in pain, the hunter grabbed onto the front of your uniform and your shoulder, smearing blood on it as he glared at you, grimacing in pain while you put pressure.

“I’m so sorry, I need to stem the bleeding!” You spoke, wincing at his tight hold on your shoulder. It hurt but you kept your tongue, just putting pressure as you watched the man before you. Despite the war paint on his face, you saw his skin getting paler and paler. “No, no.” You pleaded, frantically looking around for what you could do.

There was nothing around you as you sat in the darkened alley, kneeled in a pool of blood, desperately trying to stop the wound from bleeding.

“Someone!” You yelled as loud as you could, watching the hunter’s grip on your uniform slacken as he lay back down against the boxes. “I need help!”

Grunting softly, the hunter just let go, his breathing slowing while his weapon slid to the ground, his eyes barely still open.

“Y/N!”

Whipping your head to the entrance of the alleyway, you heard your name be called out again. “Over here!” You yelled, watching one of your colleagues run into the mouth of the alleyway, seeing you sitting there.

“We’ve been looking for you, what’s going on?!” She yelled back as she jogged over, only to see the alarmed look on your face as well as the blood on your uniform.

“He’s going into shock, I need help!” You pleaded and she gasped, rushing up to now see the man laying there. She placed her hand on your shoulder as she crouched down, assessing the situation. “He got hit with a glass shard and pulled it out. I don’t know how long ago, but he’s been bleeding too much.”

Looking from the hunter, to you, to the blood soaking into the floor, her hand on your shoulder squeezed as she then leaned forward, placing her fingers on the pulse point in his neck.

“Y/N, it’s too late.” She sighed softly and you looked up, seeing the far away stare in the man’s half-lidded eyes. He was gone.

“Oh.” You whispered, sighing sadly as you let your head hang for a second.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” You sent her a tiny smile, lifting your head as you reached forward and closed the man’s eyes. “How is it out there?”

“Chaotic. We could really use your help.” She spoke and you nodded, getting up to your feet.

Letting out a deep sigh, you started to take off the bloody gloves, only for a feeling of being watched to wash over you. Confused, you turned around, staring at the dead end of the alleyway before just shaking it off, gearing yourself up to get back out there.

-

Watching you walk away, Kraven felt his lips curl up in amusement.

Sitting on top of the building, one foot on the edge while his elbow leaned on it, he couldn’t help but analyse you. While he had smelt the stench of death on the hunter long ago, you had continued to fight. For the hunter’s life, yes – but there was something else in your desperation. It made him wonder if that fight might have been for yourself too. And it intrigued him.

Jumping off the building once the alleyway was empty, he landed next to the now deceased hunter, looking down for a second before getting down on a knee as he shifted his hand and grabbed the crossbow, moving it to lay on his hunter’s chest, draping the man’s arms over it.

Yet what caught his attention then was a flash of white laying amidst the puddle of blood by his feet. Reaching down, Kraven carefully picked it up, inspecting the small card in his hand.

A hospital badge.

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[crayonverse]

details bout michael n eins dynamic. 2 me (cw physical/emotional abuse, cannibalism, suicide/suicidal idealizations, ableism, self-harm)

michael only refers to himself as eins father when he wants ein to do something, any other time hes just michael .

lets ein not refer to him as sir to make him feel more "special" .

after eins mom broke up w zack she sorta got a bit. out of it. she started neglecting ein and she became depressed. The First Step in ein distrusting others bc his mother stopped paying attention 2 him. michael used a small amount of his magic to control her and make her drown herself in the kitchen sink and then kidnapped ein, making it look like she had killed herself and ein had ran away. .

just as a small thing of me hcing ein as a transguy, michael named him ein bc the meaning of "ian" (which is what his name is just spelled weird) is "God is Gracious" as a constant reminder that michael "saved" ein. .

ein wasnt tested on w forever potions (in the early stages w the other kids) because michael absolutely could not let Zack know he had his other stupid kid. when ein found out about the testing he was extremely upset bc he wasnt "special enough" for it. picture ein 6 years old begging for medical malpractice to be used on him .

he was tested later but as a teen when michael got out, since he didnt have access to the other children. although he wasn't able to use the full potions since he didnt have access to emeralds at the moment, so he used diluted versions of the potions that weren't as powerful via syringes. ein gets a fear needles from it .

when michael n the other two idiots were locked in the pocket dimension ein went through a brief depressive period bc the One Guy he (thought) cared about him disappeared. when michael did get out he didnt tell ein immediately bc he . doesnt like ein but when he found out ein got arrested he told ein that he should stay in jail for a few months to "learn his lesson" .

slightly unrelated but when michael wanted him out of jail he also wanted ein to disappear off the radar so he faked eins death in jail. originally he wanted ein to die in like a riot but ein, sensing an opportunity, asked for it to say he killed himself instead. the opportunity being aphmau half way into her uni course looking up her old high school bullies to see what theyre up to and just finding out ein is Fucking Dead .

the potions michael uses on ein are mainly magic power related (like eins Green Laser) because he likes manipulating ein into doing things rather than using his magic because its "more fun" .

michael subconsciously views ein as his actual son (mcd travis) bc he feels like "this one is a better son" or whatever .

not a specific thing but mother knows best reprise from tangled is a Viewpoint on their dynamic 2 me .

ein is internally scared of michael but he never verbally says that and if anyone asks him if he is he denies it immediately bc he doesnt want pity. you can see it in his eyes though. elizabeth is really the only other person who mentions it but she mostly uses it to make fun of ein because she "doesnt think its that bad" (<- she is unaware) .

bc of michael ein absolutely hates unwarranted physical touch. he reacts violently if anyone grasps his shoulder from behind or touches his upper arms. the only touch he usually allows is people lightly touching his hair/head bc he still registers it as headpats (grabbing his hair usually results in him biting) .

michael usually physically threatens or abuses ein to reprimand him but sometimes he throws ein into the Metaphorical Torture Box for entertainment .

basically most of the things michael does to ein is for his own amusement .

he also heavily dehumanizes ein to convince him to do evil acts, rationalizing it to him as "you arent a person so is it really that bad??" ein does not view himself as an actual person at this point more so as a nameless soldier, a weapon, etc .

i used this for an old fic n stuff too but also michael makes ein commit cannibalism to forcibly dehumanize him more. he wants to make ein feel entirely disconnected from humanity (like michael feels for himself) so ein will basically be a "mini michael" .

ein also consciously copies michaels mannerisms/speech. only really elizabeth n zack notice it however and it just fucking freaks zack the hell out (elizabeth is also freaked out by it but mostly ignores it) .

theres just a general theme of a loss of control for ein in general. he gets a small allowance from michael and hes not allowed out overnight, all his communication is usually internally with the researchers or guardian forces. most of the time ein self isolates from them, viewing them as beneath him and michael. when they try to talk to him its a 50/50 whether he'll tell them to fuck off or he'll hiss at them .

another specific detail is pre s4 ein fucked up a potion and instead of his usual reprimand, michael used pliers to defang ein. in his head its the one thing ein can't rationalize about michaels actions (the one "seed of doubt" he has). he usually makes excuses for michael's actions towards him but being defanged is the only one he struggles with since he knows that michael knows how important his wolf side is to him .

pre s5 and just like at the end of s5 (when ein was seen on the bridge) he was going through another depressive episode bc he missed his ears and tail. he was mainly just going through the motions of his daily life but he was barely holding on. michael repeatedly discouraged ein from committing because the plan would be messed up because of it (michael said that directly to him) and he would imply that ein would be a traitor if he went through with it. .

michael actually flipped between discouraging and encouraging ein to commit to see what he would do. .

he's caught ein self-harming before, w ein attempting to either drown or smother himself. michael doesnt like doing this regularly but most of the time he lets ein hug him so he feels "comforted". other times michael just scolds him and tells him to not do it again. .

i also hc ein as a low empathy autistic (bc # me) and he used to stim very openly and loudly but michael disliked that part of him so he "trained" ein to not stim in public which just results in him being constantly overstimulated, a contributor to Ein being fucking mad all the time. hes like a hair trigger away from a meltdown at all times .

the only method of stimming ein can usually get away w is when he scratches his arms/scabs. unfortunately he doesn't trim his claws and it usually results in ein making himself bleed or reopening scars. michael has attempted to get him to stop doing this but its pretty much a compulsion for ein at this point.

[teine-mallaichte]

The Facility - overview

(World building for my living weapon OCs) CW: living wepaon, dehumanisation, warfare, tortour, extreme conditioning.

Before the outbreak of the global conflict, the Facility was a small-scale organisation known for its expertise in psychological research, interrogation techniques, and psychological warfare. Initially hired by governments for extreme situations, the Facility’s role evolved dramatically as the war escalated.

From a niche contractor, it transformed into a dominant global entity with an expansive network of semi-autonomous complexes.

Evolution of the Facility

With the onset of the global conflict, the Facility transitioned from a third-party service provider to a central force in global affairs. Its operations expanded from dealing with prisoners of war and training operatives in psychological warfare, to capturing and conditioning children - often starting before their 10th birthdays. These children are then molded into specialised roles for the war effort, including front-line combatants, medics, infiltration specialists, engineers, and assassins.

Each Facility complex had its own methods, but the core processes of indoctrination, training, and conditioning remained consistent across the network.

Complex 27: A Closer Look

One of the key facilities in this network is Complex 27, a sprawling, isolated complex designed for discretion and security. Located in a remote rural area, Complex 27 is characterized by its stark, utilitarian design, reflecting the Facility’s emphasis on control and uniformity.

A Block: Dedicated to severe corrections, reconditioning, and decommissioning of assets. It is a place of fear and pain, where assets face their harshest punishments and psychological manipulation.

Purpose: Dedicated to severe corrections, reconditioning, and decommissioning of assets.

Characteristics: Known for its harsh conditions and psychological manipulation. A Block is designed to evoke fear and maintain control over assets who have failed to meet expectations or exhibit signs of disobedience.

Features: Includes isolation cells, sensory deprivation rooms, the "pit", and areas for physical punishment.

B Block: Here lies the medical wing, handlers' offices, briefing rooms, and logistics operations. It’s where the operational side of the Facility functions, managing the flow of assets and ensuring they are prepared for their assignments.

Purpose: The operational hub for the Facility, managing medical care, handler operations, and logistics.

Medical Wing:

Purpose: Provides routine health checks, injury treatment, and management of physical and psychological conditions. The focus is on maintaining functionality rather than long-term health.

Facilities: Equipped with basic medical equipment, examination rooms, and a small operating theater for minor procedures.

Staff: Includes Facility-employed doctors and medics, who prioritize immediate needs and are often viewed with distrust by other assets due to their dehumanized training.

Handlers' Offices:

Purpose: Spaces for handlers to oversee their assigned assets, review performance, prepare mission briefs, and conduct evaluations.

Facilities: Functional and austere, with desks, computers, and communication systems for encrypted coordination.

Interactions: Handlers maintain detailed records, plan development, and manage deployments according to established protocols.

Communication: B Block serves as the central communication hub with encrypted channels to ensure security and prevent unauthorized access.

C Block:

Purpose: Training grounds for younger assets. It focuses on education, conditioning, and isolation from the outside world until assets are ready for their roles.

Characteristics: A place of intense indoctrination, psychological conditioning, and early skill development.

D Block:

Purpose: The residential area where assets and living weapons are housed.

Features: Identical, sparsely furnished quarters, and the mess hall.

Asset Quarters:

Walls and Flooring: The walls are pale grey, contributing to a clinical and sterile atmosphere. The flooring is tiled in the same grey color, easy to clean and maintain.

Sleeping Area: Each quarter contains a small cot with a thin grey blanket. The cot is minimalist, offering just enough for basic rest without comfort.

Storage: There is a metal locker for personal items, though assets are typically limited in what they can keep. The locker is plain and functional, reflecting the lack of personal space or autonomy.

Bathroom: The quarters include a small adjoining bathroom with a shower, toilet and sink. The bathroom is utilitarian, with minimal features designed to meet basic hygiene needs without any luxury.

Desk and Table: A small desk and bedside table are present, serving practical functions but lacking personal touches. These pieces of furniture are simple and unadorned.

Lighting: The lighting in the quarters is bright, designed to keep the space functional and to prevent any shadowy corners where assets might hide or escape. It is on an automatic timer across all quarters, dimming at night and glaring in the day.

Overall Design: The design is uniform across all quarters, with no personalization allowed. This uniformity reinforces the Facility’s control over the assets, eliminating any form of individuality or personal expression.

Training and Conditioning:

Stages of Training: Assets undergo a rigorous, multi-staged process involving indoctrination, specialization, handler training, and advanced training as living weapons. Each stage is designed to strip away personal identity and mold assets into highly effective tools for the Facility’s objectives.

Stage 1: Indoctrination

Focus: This stage involves erasing the asset’s prior identity, using isolation and psychological conditioning to create a blank slate. At the end of this stage, assets receive a number designation, which is tattooed on their neck.

Stage 2: Specialization

Focus: Assets are trained in their specific roles, with severe punishments for any deviation from standard. Complex 27 distinguishes between even-numbered assets (front-line combatants) and odd-numbered assets (who specialize in various other combat based).

Stage 3: Handler Training

Focus: Assets begin working under handlers, integrating into operational roles while being closely monitored and corrected when necessary.

Stage 4: Living Weapons

Symbol: Marked by a brand on the arm, this stage is the pinnacle of an asset’s conditioning, where they become high-priority, specialized weapons. These assets are often deployed in pairs to optimize effectiveness in complex missions.

Defects and Reconditioning:

Criteria for Defects: Includes serious injury, emotional breakdown, or signs of humanity. Defective assets may face 'correction' in A Block, intense reconditioning, or decommission (termination) if they cannot be restored to compliance.

Reconditioning: Involves severe psychological and physical methods to correct defects and restore obedience.

Related masterlists:

Asset 84

On The Run

[moonshadowslament]

i never fully listened to Morphine, so i’m currently sobbing. the next ramblings are just my view on things, mixed in with the research i’ve done!!

cw: narcotics, addiction, dependency on medication, chronic pain, death

Relax // This won't hurt you // Before I put it in // Close your eyes and count to ten // Don't cry // I won't convert you // There's no need to dismay // Close your eyes and drift away

most of the painkillers michael had were infusions/injections. propofol, especially, considering he used it to sleep.

Demerol, Demerol // Oh God, he's taking Demerol // Demerol, Demerol // Oh God, he's taking Demerol

its confirmed that michael used demerol. demerol’s a opiod-based medication, a.k.a a narcotic. it helps manage pain but only short-term. it has a high risk for addiction AND dependence.

He's tried hard to convince her // To be over what he had // Today, he wants it twice as bad // Don't cry, I won't resent you // Yesterday, you had distrust // Today, he's taking twice as much

a lot of painkillers (narcotic-based) can be highly addictive. morphine, the name of the song, is a highly addictive medication. you can easily become dependent on it.

Demerol, Demerol // Oh God, he's taking Demerol // Demerol, Demerol // Oh my, his God is Demerol

… and there’s the addiction/dependency. michael was suffering withdrawals from demerol at the time of his death, which was probably why he took the propofol; a lethal dose of it, ~25mg.

michael was is near-constant pain, from the few plastic surgeries, accidents that he got into, how intense his dancing was, and his chronic pain. he had lupus and it started to make itself known around 1983. the red cheeks weren’t just a bad makeup job (as i thought and giggled over), it was a butterfly rash. there are so many photos of michael’s hands that are captioned with shit like “aging caught up to him!”… yes, he was getting older, but it wasn’t just aging. he was probably having trouble with his hands, which is common with lupus. his hands look swollen in a few photos which was most likely the condition.

michael jackson was a goddamn angel and its horrible what he had to deal with.

[triplesilverstar]

Sometimes you just need a monkey wrench

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: Body dysmorphia, Pre-Canon, Illnesses, Major Illness, Major Character Injury, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Experimentation, Medical Examination, Dreams and Nightmares, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Heavy Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, Fever, Running Away, Communication Failure, Soft Vash the Stampede, Mild Smut, Not Beta Read, Heartbreaking, Imprisonment, Dark Past, Murder, Cartoon Physics, Vashs' Coat as a blanket, Needles, Nightmares

Word count: Roughly 3K

A/N: Chapter two of Even sand can't hide all the skeletons in your closet. This one shows a bit of the past for Snipes.

Hours later Vash is still sitting on the floor with you still held in his arms, rubbing what he hopes is soothing circles into your flushed skin. It’s not ideal but he didn’t think it would be a good idea if you woke up again and tried to fight to get away from the bed and injure yourself further. 

Brad had walked in after the little scuffle and rolled his eyes at the sight of Vash on the floor with the woman in his arms, soft words exchanged with Ludia before he was looking at the pair sprawled across the cold tiles with a look of distrust. Well. Just one of the pair. 

“Just hope you don’t have another freak out after you wake up and see the IV in your arm” Vash is whispering into your hair, hands pausing their path along your arms. “I need you to get better, Mayfly, I don’t like seeing you in so much pain.” 

The only answer he receives is just another whimper, but color is slowly returning to your face. A parting of your lips tongue pale. “I’m bad at physics” tumbling out, mumbled and slurred making him chuckle sadly patting your disheveled hair. 

“Vash?” Looking up to see Luida looking at the two of you. Once his gaze is fixed on one of his oldest friends, she starts. “Some of the tests are done. It is a type of common flu.” 

“Shouldn’t she be over it by now if that’s the case?” Eyebrows furrowing. There’s no way you’ve been this sick because of the flu, there was a reason it was called common. “Normally yes. Some of the tests provided the answer.” Lowering herself to her knees so she’s at eye level with Vash. “Vash. Her immune system is severely compromised, she has almost no white blood cells.” At his blank stare she sighed “Vash, it means her body has a hard time fighting against any kind of infection. I hate to say it, but without more information about what was done to her I’m not sure we can help her. We might do more damage.”

Vash frowned, resuming the movement of one of his hands letting his fingers run through your sweat soaked locks. Contemplating his options and biting his lip, because how much of a breach of your trust would it be to get that tube from your bag that held the paper you’d let him read? He hadn’t understood a lot of it, but it might provide the information Luida needs to help you recover. Another shiver of your body and Vash nods his head, decision made. “I need to get to her bag.” 

Adjusting your body, so you’re no longer pressed against his and a soft whimper of his name has him pausing. Surprising Luida as Vash removes his coat to wrap around your frame, carefully bundling you in as much of it as he can and still leaving access to your arm. A sweep of his hand along your cheek and he’s standing. Heading for the door “I’ll be back as quick as I can.”    

Long legs quickly lead him back to where he’d left the tomas, both of your bags still attached to the saddle. Grabbing both and pausing “please don’t hold this against me Mayfly.” Squeezing his eyes shut before hurrying back to the infirmary, the first thing he does upon entering the door is look to where he left you, ensuring you were still where he had left you. With your hands balled tight, making your grip seem even paler against the vivid crimson caused a sad smile to break out on his face. Sick, and your response in your delirious state is to reach for him, reminding him of the two days in that town that he held your hand. A phantom grip he wished he could feel right at that moment. 

“Vash?” Luida calling his name breaks him from his trance, nodding to her and placing both of your bags on the ground before opening yours and starting to dig through it. Finding the cylinder at the bottom, inside a hidden pocket. It feels like a knife plunging into his heart at this invasion of something you go through such lengths to hide. 

“She has some papers, a report, at least I think, in here that mentions what was done to her. I read it before, but I didn’t understand a lot of it.” Looking over the locked device trying to figure out how to open it, turning as Brad appeared in the doorway. Watching Vash struggle with the cylinder for a moment, before snatching it from him. 

“It needs a six digit code. Got any guesses?” Vash just shakes his head, unaware of any kind of number that would hold any significance to his lady. A stark realization he doesn’t even know when your birthday is. “I could crack it open, but I don’t think she’d be a fan of that.” At that moment your body spasms, shaking the lines of the IV and you let out a shuddering grasp, the heart rate monitor spiking. Biting at his lip once more causing the tissue to swell, Vash turns to Brad and nods. 

“At this point, we don’t have much choice. I’ll take the blame when she’s better.” Because Vash won’t voice it, but he can’t even think of the alternative he needs you to recover. In such a short time you’ve become so much more than just his traveling companion and lover, and he’s doubting if he’s told you any of it. How you hold more pieces of him then he thought he had left to give. A shrug of his shoulders, and Brad is taking out his monkey wrench, locking it along one of the seams and making it crack under the pressure. 

“Can’t use it again, so it better have what we need brat.” Tossing the cracked top to the side and handing the tube back to Vash. 

It feels he’s holding the world in his hands as he gingerly accepts it back, the notion of what that means settling heavy on his already scarred heart. “It should” tilting the cylinder waiting for the paper to slide out, only for a small micro chip to tumble out first and land on one of the panels connected to the computer network. A pause, and suddenly the voice of the onboard system advising of a download in progress. 

Leaving them with no chance to respond, files started popping up along the screen, data files. 

All about you. 

A flurry of files flashing on screen, news articles, photos, text document, and fly by as a preview loading the documents as they transfer. Stopping as the final file loads, an image that leaves Vash reeling, his heart breaking, tears burning into his eyes while his chest heaves. A photo of you, clearly held in chains inside a prison with the caption above the image, a news article so similar and so different from the printed ones of Noman’s land.

“Scourge of Icarus system caught after council assassination in broad daylight.” Vash knew from your nightmares you had things you regretted, some of the things you’d told him you’d done. 

But that image. 

You were looking right in the camera when the shot had been taken. There was zero remorse in your eyes, you had no regrets for what you had done, no flicker of anything he had come to cherish. No spark, no sense of wonder he was used to when you looked at the stars. No. You looked for all the world, like you had nothing left to live for, ready to die. 

The image is gone as Luida starts tapping away at the keyboard, breaking Vash from his brief sense of foreboding, loading a file and opening it up full of medical jargon and what looks like chemical formulas. “This should provide me with all the information I need to see if I can come up with an answer.” As Vash turns away from the screen to face Luida, he can see the look on her face, a look of one choosing to tuck the information they had all read away. More focused on trying to help get you on the mend then judge you for past actions. 

Brad however. “Shouldn’t we be tying her up instead of letting her sleep on the floor?” Voice flat as he stares at you, watching as you shiver in the fabric of Vashs’ coat, making your frame seem somehow even smaller than before. That single action made Brad sigh, running a hand through his graying locks. “You gonna vouch for her brat?” 

It takes a second for it to click in Vash’s brain, even Brad is willing to put what he saw aside. “Yea. She’s…” licking his lips before setting his gaze on your shaking form once more, the shock still flooding his system. “She’s not like that anymore.” Another nod and Brad is turning, getting ready to leave before he pauses. 

“Since the two of you are probably gonna be here for a while, got any clothes you want to get cleaned?” An offer of an out, to try and handle what turmoil he’s currently in, a reminder that Brad and Luide know him better then he knows himself. That you would have given him a similar option. Vash realizes with a heavy heart he needs it, needs time to process some of what he’s read. 

“Yea. Yea we both do.” Leaving the cylinder on the counter and grabbing both bags to follow after Brad towards the ship's laundry. A final look over his shoulder, in the opening of the doorway feeling his heart and mind war with one another over the face that right now he'd rather do laundry then stay with you while you shook on the floor body wracked by your sickness.

It doesn’t take long for Luida to sort through the data, finding what she needs and feeling her heart churn for an entirely different reason in comparison to Vash. A round of nutrients added to the IV dripping into your body, and as Luida bends down running one of her hands through your greasy hair she feels herself flinching slightly when you whimper. “You poor thing. You’ve been through a lot in your long life.” Carefully lifting your head and pushing a pillow under you, listening to your breathing shift ever so slightly before returning to the monitor. 

The solution to your problem, even if she herself didn’t fully understand everything going on inside your body or what had been done, was a rather simple one. Listed in the medical file itself as the solution for the unintended side effect of some of the experiments, now Luida just needed to wait for the culture to finish growing so she could insert a lab grown vial full of white blood cells grown from your own DNA into your system. 

Luida however being the type of person she was had moved onto problem solving a future solution for you because there was no way you wouldn’t come across another infection of some kind in the future. She just needed a delivery system that would last more than a few hours once you left the ship. 

All the while another thought crossed her mind since it had been a few hours since Vash had disappeared, loading some of the files onto a tablet for the young plant to read.

While she wasn’t an expert and had no children of her own, Luida hadn’t missed the way Vash interacted with you. His actions were full of care and tenderness as he spoke about you while they had been waiting for some of the test results before getting desperate. The way he held you, and tried to keep you calm, everything in his mannerisms screamed how much was between the two of you. His absence clearly a result of having seen the files that had opened up and the final one that had been glaring at the three of them. 

While she had been waiting Luida dug more into the documents herself, curious about what kind of woman could have captured the young plants attention and clearly his heart. The information learned paint a heartbreaking story to the older woman, but what she had read had made sense to her as to why Vash would have fallen for the younger woman. A kindred spirit wanting to try and make up for the wrongs she’d felt she’d done. A broken soul that had found her own form of salvation, all because one person offered to let her make a difference.

That video had been interesting to watch. One of the few files that wasn’t just text or images, but it had cleared up a few things. Hearing the doors open Luida turned, shoulders slumping as Brad walked in raising an eyebrow at her. “Expecting someone else?” 

“Vash.” Her voice somber and earnest. “I thought he’d be back by now.” Brad froze mid step, whipping around to face Luida. 

A look of confusion on his face before frowning. “I figured I’d find the brat back in here.” Rubbing at the stubble growing on his face while he watched you, one side of his face downturned in thought “any luck for the girl?” 

“Yes. I’ve got the solution to her problem growing in one of the lab incubators.” Waving at the systems working away, before a flicker of an idea made her face light up in a while that made his stomach lurch. “Actually Brad, you might be able to help me with something.” Pulling up the info on screen and showing Brad what she had learned and the solution she came up with for next time. “The problem is keeping them stable until she would need to use them. I just don’t see how to keep the cells from dying in a short time span after she leaves.” 

Rubbing his chin once more while thinking, a low hum while he looked at. “I’ve got an idea. Can you put them into cartridges that could be kept frozen? I could make something to keep the cartridges frozen until she needs them. Maybe something with a built-in delivery system?” 

“I think I can come up with something.” Agreeing and pressing a few more keys as the door to the lab opened once more. Vash reappearing at last, watching the two people he’d known for the longest looking at a screen. A small smile before striding more into the room, moving towards where you’re still shivering on the ground, somehow even more wrapped up inside his coat. 

A whimper from you breaking the silence. “Just wanna go home.” 

Luida has been listening to your mumbling for a few hours now, random words that made no sense but it’s clear you’re trapped in a nightmare of some form brought on by the sickness. A grimace on your face as you shudder, Vash bends his knees bringing himself closer to your pale form.

A soft smile on his face as he cupped your cheek thumb gliding over the swell of skin, watching the furrow in your brow fade before standing once more and turning back to the other two. Both of them watching him and his brief interactions with you with rapt attention. Vash might be a master at hiding his pain and feelings behind a mask, but these two know all of his tells.

“Ugh. What are you two up too?” Moving towards them, dressed in his cleanest turtleneck and cargo pants. Peace bringer left in his room, looking at the monitor between both of them. 

“Trying to come up with a lasting solution for your girlfriend and her compromised immune system.” Brad deadpans, tapping a few keys and sending copies of the files he needed to his own workstation monitor. 

“She’s not m-” both humans sending him a look, clearly full of disbelief. “Fine. My girlfriend.” Sighing as Vash took a seat on the stool looking to Luida “sorry about earlier. I… Needed some time to sort out what I saw.” 

Brad huffed at the weak excuse, slapping Vash on the back of the head as he left sparing no other words for the troublesome plant. Luida on the other hand, gave Vash a reassuring smile and held out a tablet for him. “Maybe you should have a read of this.” Taking the tablet and flashing it up, eyebrows raising as he first started reading before his brow furrowed. “We’ve got another few hours while the culture grows, hopefully she’ll be on the mend in no time.” 

Tablet in hand, Vash found his gaze moving back towards you once more running a hand through his short hair. He knows you. Knows you on a level far deeper than the glimpse into your past shown on the screen. He’s seen you let others sink bullets in you to defend someone else, taken and given tongue lashings in regards to so many subjects. Heard about your views on life and just how precious it is for reasons so different from his own. He’s heard you talk about the world in such a way that it both makes his heart race and causes a feeling of contentment to wash over him. 

You’ve changed from the woman that was shown in that image, he knows that, knows it as clearly as he knows lines of his own palm. So how could he have been ready to bolt, even if just for a moment from you because of that? ‘Everyone has a blank ticket’ ringing in his head, the chance to change. You had done that. 

Swallowing as the few steps he takes feels more like iles, lowering down to the ground beside your form and pulling you into his lap so your head is rested against his thigh instead of the small pillow. One hand starting to glide through your hair in what he hopes is a soothing motion once more, pressing a button to illuminate the tablet and starting to read the files loaded onto it for him by Luida.

Back to Masterlist for the series

[torturcdmuse]

Name: Frankie Mallory Occupation: Artist, Bartender, Bloodbag Age: 27 Sexuality: Queer Species: Human Clan/Pack/Coven: N/A Hometown: Long Island,New York Relationship Status: single Personality Traits: Nihilist, self destructive, witty, expressive, distrustful,

Cw: implied child abuse, foster care, death via car crash, chronic illness and medicalization, America’s fucked up medical system, general abuse and cohersion, intoxication and addiction. 

Td;lr Frankie was abandoned in childhood, abandoned as a teenager, used and abandoned as a young adult and had her voice stolen, used and caged as a painter and finally chose to be the one to leave a terrible situation.  And somehow she has managed to land herself in Port Liery. She has very self destructive tendencies, chronic illness and a nihilist view that if it can go wrong for her it will. She will always say what is on her mind, unless she is hustling and trying to get just a moment of  security. She works at Anemoia as a bartender and bloodbag.  

Francesca Mallory was abandoned before her third birthday, unwanted she ws left at a fire station with no note, no explanation, just a thin red sweater and a dirty pair of pajamas. The station was a known safe surrender location, though usually the children were infants still. The firestation wasn’t sure what to do with the small wide eyed child, and she was promptly placed in the foster system where she bounced around staying in group homes or the occasional solo placement. Her childhood was not a pleasant one, the vetting process for foster parents not nearly as in depth as it needed to be and she was forced to endure the horrors that entailed.  

At fourteen though she was placed in a steady home with parents who on her 15th birthday told her that they were looking into the formal adoption process. She thought she had made it, she had happiness and safety, and they bought her art supplies and a guitar. But shortly after she started to get sick, a host of symptoms the doctors couldn’t pin down and treatments that started in the thousands. Her foster father worked as a trucker, and to try and pay for her treatments he picked up extra shifts and took on longer and longer hauls until one night he fell asleep at the wheel and crashed his rig. Francesca’s foster mother blamed her for his death and kicked her out, sending her back to a group home. She wasn’t willing to go back into that particular torture and decided to take her chances on her own. 

She started hustling, busking and singing on the streets, and painting when she could afford canvas. She got state health insurance, and managed to make payments of most of her treatments, but it still wasn’t enough so she got a fake ID, started lying and dancing in clubs that either didn’t notice the fake ID or didn’t care. She managed to have some semblance of stability by the time she was 19, when the other shoe dropped again. She needed a transplant, and her state insurance would pay for the procedure but not the lifetime of anti rejection meds she would have to take so she pushed it off as much as she could scrambling to try and find a better solution.

It was not a good or particularly safe period in her life. So when a man came along with a record deal and a signing bonus that would not only pay for a deposit on an apartment that had a security guard and a lock at the lobby and at her front door, but also at least five years of the medication she needed if she played her cards right she jumped at the prospect. She should have read the contract closer, and she didn’t tell the team that she was sick too worried they wouldn’t give her the payout. She was used to hustling, but as she was thrown into a world where she had to obey every wish and demand of the music executives she slowly began to sink, barely able to keep her head above water. 16 hour rehearsal days, after parties to impress investors and never a moment to herself Frankie started missing treatments, she wasn’t getting sleep and she was encouraged to always have a drink in her hand. 

What was once going to be a planned, controlled and avoided if possible transplant became an emergency after Frankie collapsed during a live performance She woke up days later in a hospital room with one of the labels lawyers who promptly handed her a notification that she had been dumped from the label due to breach of contract. Her hospital stay would be paid for, they weren’t heartless they claimed, but after that she was on her own again. They also retained the rights to everything she had written and performed, and those same lawyers did everything to make sure she did not see any of the profits, citing that breach of contract and that she hadn’t disclosed vital information before their investment. 

Frankie didn’t have the time or money to fight it, or to wallow in the loss. Her brief stint of popstar money meant that she made too much money to get her insurance back, so the hustle started anew. She forgot singing, too scared the lawyers would come after her again and heartbroken over everything she had lost. She had poured her soul into her writing and now she didn’t have that. She pivoted to her other love in art, painting. She set up her own pop up galleries on the street until a local gallery found her work and let her sell her paintings in the back corner and stay in the empty loft above. She gained a small cult following with her paintings, their place in the back corner away from the front glass perfect for the risque material that focused on indulgence and pleasure. When a man in a suit started coming around more often she should have learned, should have questioned, but when he started bringing her out to dinner and buying her expensive brushes and canvases taller than she was she was so eager to get out of her circumstances that she didn’t question. And when he got her an interview at Pratt and paid for her admission, and her tuition when she got in she thought this was it. This was how she got out and how she found her stability. Once she was there, studying art and in an environment where she could paint but also take time to rest, and finding a way to express her passion the Suit began to sink his claws in. It became apparent that he was not satisfied with just being a patron, but he wanted Frankie as well. He would bring her to dinners, grip her wrist too tight, tell her who she could talk to and what she could wear. She was his little artist and she was expected to follow his rules, the rough around the edges hustler he had discovered, as he so often loved to say, was expected to show up and play the perfect little pawn. He loved to embarrass her, degrade her in front of his friends and ply her with whatever vice she may choose to try and numb that embarrassment only to rub that in her face as well. 

It came to a head at her graduation when he declared now she would be his little live in artist and pet, and Frankie felt his iron fist of control settle around her neck. She lasted one month, a month where she was rarely sober and painted nothing unless he was there watching her, forcing her. It was one of the nurses at her infusion center that gave her the reality check she needed to get out. She had managed to keep the most of her illness from the suit, telling him she was going to a spa or a nail appointment any time she needed an infusion or a check up. She helped her buy a train ticket, and three different plane tickets, and when she came back for her next “nail appointment” she hopped on a train and headed west, not sure where she was going but determined to make a change. 

Her time in Port Liery has been… bumpy. She landed herself what she thought was a simple bartending gig, and instead was introduced to a whole world she never knew existed. She still paints, and if you are lucky you might catch her singing when she thinks she isn’t being watched or is too high to care. And she has found that working as a blood bag is the easiest, and most pleasurable way by far, to make the money she needs to pay for her treatments. She loves the supernatural world, and is happy with her place in it, though she would be lying if she didn’t hear the siren call of the opportunity to join it. 

[frodothefair]

❅ Chapter 4 - Tingli

Read on AO3 ┃Read from the beginning

SUMMARY : About halfway between the capitals of Gondor and Rohan, Birandor and Yvion keep the beacon at Erelas ever-ready for a great war. But how does life go for this pair of Gondorian beacon-guards, living amid the high wind and the mountain-snow? Isolated though they are, a friend or foe might appear at any moment!

CHAPTER SUMMARY : Tingli lends his help to repair Birandor's stitches. Yvion, who goes outside briefly, is forced to reflect on his past, as well as his distrust of the Dwarves. Are the beacons lit?

CHARACTERS : multiple OC’s, Gollum, Gandalf, the Eagles of Manwë, Legolas, Angelimir of Dol Amroth, Sauron and others. CONTENT : humor, parody, slice of life. RATING : Teen, cw: medical danger, blood, mild language, Smash Mouth WORD COUNT : 10k chapter, 27k total TAGS : @konartiste @hippodameia @emmanuellececchi A/N: written by my husband, who lacks an online presence

PREVIEW:

The curious, captivating dwarf persisted in his explanation. For the Dwarves, he articulated, had mastered the art of mining, but they had not perfected the art of mining without gathering a considerable amount of injuries, and, by necessity, a considerable amount of experience in the myriad ways of keeping a body going.

[futchgunk]

cw: blood

so i threw uup blood when i got home last night and it wasnt dark red it was light and it only happened when i was retching and not when i was spitting or rinsing. best case scenario is an esophageal tear, and worst case is something worse. im gonna take another day off so i rest and transmute my mental from fragile porcelain to something steeled and immutable again. i want to believe this is a mere blip. i am someone who loves our body very much and we resonate with it very strongly so it feels humiliating and even shameful to know that something is happening to it because of our actions (or lackthereof). i have a deep distrust of the medical community, yet if this happens again, i have to seek medical attention before it progresses. i dont think we would ever forgive me if my neglect caused us harm.

irl mutuals this is a chronicpainpost abt last nigght im okay and tired. i feel like a sponge w/ too much water in it only bc i had been obsessing about hanging out for like 10days b4 the gig so i was rly looking forward 2 hanging out :':':':'). im so excited for this lil teaparty its gonna b a dream come true ::::)