#i understand wanting to know where your child is
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sometimes I see people being confused where alectostasia ship came from so here's a little bit of run down
I'm not really good with words so it might be clunky
what we know from the text
Anastasia tries to achieve 'perfect lyctorhood', something goes wrong during her ascension, John kills Samael, Anastasia fails her attempt
Anastasia moves to the ninth, continues working on the house or only founding it at that time
John asks Anastasia to help build the tomb 'I built that tomb with Anastasia, designed every inch of it.'
somewhere between working on it and Alecto's entombment, Alecto and Anastasia make a vow where Alecto basically swears as a cavalier to her 'Alecto said, I remember my vows. As I swore to Anastasia I swear to you. I am in your service until you bid me the favour, and whatsoever you appoint I shall perform, and consider the vow rendered. This is what I promised, until such a time as you deal with me as you see fit.'
as John leading Alecto to the tomb, she asks to see Anastasia 'She had said, There are almost no beautiful things left. Where is Anastasia? Let me talk to Anastasia.'
presumable Anastasia is the one to inflict to the ninth house importance of keeping her bloodline and worshiping of the tomb through all of those years
Anastasia's bones are in the tomb 'She looked back beyond, and she saw Anastasia, tucked where nobody would find her: Anastasia, all bones. Not really Anastasia. But Anastasia’s body without the meat on it, snuggled right into the curve of the rock, ready to close the door whenever it was opened. She remembered Anastasia.'
Alecto immediately getting chill after tasting Harrow's blood 'The child was silent; but her blood was on Alecto’s lips, and through that blood Alecto was made to understand what it was, and was astonished exceedingly. Alecto put away wrath and said: Thou art the blood of the tomb-keeper.'
Alecto saying sorry for Samael
the implications
the vow on itself is very interesting, at first we all know how usually normal cavalier and necromancer relationships are. then for Alecto to comply to that, indicates she should be pretty trusting of Anastasia, and their relationships at least somehow better than with other lyctors who were terrified of her
then there's also the tombkeeper blood thing, what serves as a check note for Alecto after waking up, and means the initial purpose of the ninth house was actually waiting for rock to roll away
and one part of the vow seems to imply 'if anyone beside a tombkeeper wake you, slay them as they came to hurt you', as could hinted on a protection from other lyctors who wanted to kill Alecto? (Then Alecto remembered the vow, and turned back upon the altar to face the second child and raised the sword with wrath in her heart, for they meant to bring destruction upon her.)
then the matter of Anastasia's bones laying in the tomb next to the rock. not sure if it's just her skeleton or she made herself a some construct mechanism from her bones. and not clear if she got entombed on her own volition or John closed them both there, but being entombed together five feet apart cause we are not gay
there's also some oddness in Alecto immediately after waking saying she's sorry for Samael, but I won't go into that here, anyway Anastasia was trying to find a better way to lyctorhood and I think in her more close relationships with Alecto she figured out something that John wasn't telling them, before or after her ascension
and some theories
I think I first heard this theory from @/mayasaura, that ninth house tradition of telling secrets while submerged in the salt water could've corelate with Anastasia trying to have a talk like that with Alecto since she feels the most at ease in the salt water, so means pool time for alectostasia too
another one that I really like but not sure how much legs it actually would have in canon, one of the reasons Nona was so enamored with her body cause Harrow is a spitting image of Anastasia, first saw @/corvophobia talking about it
coming back to Harrow, could there be anything more to her taking immediate affection to the Body a la some fuckery with Anastasia's spirt/tombkeeper's blood
more people explained it better, I try to reblog most of the theories in my side blog, you can check it out there but some of it explicit just in case
anyway in conclusion, as I keep procrastinating with my work, I don't think they were making out 24/7 in Canaan house in canon but something for sure happened there between them
#I will still continue drawing them making out 24/7 in Canaan house tho cause who can stop me#the locked tomb#anastasia the first#anastasia the ninth#alecto the ninth#nona the ninth#nona the ninth spoilers#harrow the ninth#harrow the ninth spoilers#alectostasia
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boyz in luv !
✎ᝰ — dc boys as romance tropes
♡⃕ — bruce wayne, dick grayson, jason todd, wally west, kaldur’ahm x reader
♡⃕ — genre + warnings: fluff & jason is slight ooc cause I didn’t feel like writing moody child jason sawry
♡⃕ — a/n: woooo mia writes once again. yall peepin my consistency ?
꒰ BRUCE WAYNE ꒱
Ꮺ second chance ! — bruce is a man who excels in many things and one can say he has lived different lives, depending on who you’re asking. one thing he wished to excel in is romance, he has tried time and time again to be the perfect lover for someone yet that energy was never reciprocated back, unless for a hookup. not only that, his heart was never much into it when it came to all his previous lovers and he could never understand why. was something wrong with him? however, when it came to you, he felt that he gave his all, he felt himself pour more into you than he usually would with others. thus, the two of you ending things led to bruce feeling so much heartache to the point where he couldn’t handle it any longer. he needed to find a solution, a medication, something, anything to ease this pain in his chest. to think, the bruce wayne, aka batman, could feel emotional pain, who would’ve thought?
that pain led to longing, aching times of writing you letters, stopping by your job to see how you’re doing, looking through photographic memories, begging at your front door at one random night to ask what can he do to be back with you? he can no longer live a life without you and he genuinely doesn’t know how much more of this he can take.
꒰ DICK GRAYSON ꒱
Ꮺ you fell first, he fell harder — to grayson, you were of quite importance. you two grew up in the same neighborhood until his parents was killed, you two attended the same school, and you two were always at each other’s side. if people were to find dick, they could find you next to him or somewhere near him. as years pass, and your friendship becomes deeper, dick finds himself growing feelings. as a young man, he couldn’t shake off these feelings that sprouted when you were around him. actually, neither of you could.
feelings always arose inside both of you when you two were in contact with one another, whether it be on the phone or him taking you out to a nice dinner. when you spoke, he could find himself dazed as he laid his eyes all over your beautiful features. when you lay your hand anywhere on him, as simple as the touch would be, the hairs on his body stick up, and finds himself getting hot as the touch lays on there.
the same would happen with you except the effects of his touch or his presence wouldn’t be as down bad as dick is with you. the potential crush that grew inside the both of you had made the simplest conversation become a rousing feeling to your beating hearts. except dick feels like his heart is close to exploding when he’s near you.
꒰ JASON TODD ꒱
Ꮺ childhood friends to frenemies to lovers — jason was sweet, jason was loving, jason was determined to be the brave boy just like his father. he was everything you dreamed and wanted from in a boy, since grade school you dreamed of jason todd being your dream boy. maybe it’s the crush, maybe it’s the crazy promise to each other that you’ll live together by the age of thirty if neither of you gets married. you don’t know what it is but it gave you the idea that you and jason will be stuck like glue till death do you part. a great idea for two grade schoolers but not for someone like you who was startled by jason’s behavior after being “missing” all these years.
either way, he was not the jason you’ve known and grown up with. this jason was coldhearted, brute, and didn’t have much care to be in your life, unlike younger jason. he came off with a cold shoulder and you came to the point that your friendship has gone away from his memories, you didn’t matter to him as much he mattered to you. at least, that’s what he wanted you to think.
throughout you dealing with and not wanting to accept this new jason, he was fighting with himself on whether he should make the best of your burned-out friendship to keep you from all danger or be selfish and keep your love with him, no matter the consequence you may both have to face. protect y/n and live with long-term yearning or protect your own heart and live in bliss with y/n? choose wisely jason, choose wisely.
꒰ WALLY WEST ꒱
Ꮺ unrequited love — the young man with so much to love but sometimes oh so clueless. he was intelligent and knew how to act in certain situations, making him quick-minded. however, he hasn't caught on when it came to catching hints of you flirting with him. which is strange for a man who likes to flirt with almost every woman in sight. then again, it’s the same for you when he tries to flirt with you and you just think of it as casual flirting. you don’t think anything of it since wally is a flirt, you usually just play on till you can’t anymore.
even when people assumed that you and wally have something going on, you would laugh it off and deny it. even if it does sting a bit to fake it and say that you and wally are friends, while you internally want something more. it’s not better on wally’s side either; his usual cheery and chill attitude dampers just slightly when he hears you say that the two of you are friends.
the situation of unrecognized unrequited love has both of you two’s hearts aching for one another. You don’t how long you can last by being “just friends” with wally and wally doesn’t know how long he’ll last by pretending that this crush isn’t eating him alive. as for now, friends till one confesses.
꒰ KALDUR’AHM ꒱
Ꮺ everyone sees it but them — oh kaldur, the handsome blonde man with facial features that’ll make the angels sing and a personality that could make anyone want to marry him. he’s extremely kind, soft-hearted, caring, has great leadership skills, and has everything that just screams he needs to be in your life. well, he is, as your friend, a close friend.
you two grew up together training in the young justice league and became close after one mission that almost cost you your life. he was there, by your side taking care of you and keeping watch until you completely healed. ever since then, you two has been stuck to the hip, unintentionally, and neither of you seems to mind. even when your teammates make lil comments, “look at the lovely couple” “aww when’s the wedding?” “there goes couple of the year”. you usually roll your eyes at the comments and go about your day with kaldur.
however, maybe the comments meant something; seeing as the way kaldur’s smile grows when you’re explaining something, your laughter that brings a sort of bliss to your ears. it also doesn’t help that konnor and wally notices the way kaldur lets his hand linger on yours until they’re intertwined, or the way your cheeks are so prominent when kaldur is around, and the loving expression that is present. your cheeks rise, a smile displayed, and your eyes tie it all into your facial expression potentially screaming, “I’m in love.”
but of course, the signals that everyone around notices, you two seem oblivious to notice. even when they try to point it out to either of you, you just use the excuse, “so, we’re friends. do friends not do that?” friends…right right, of course, friends!
♡⃕ technically, i had something similar for these hcs from the song “another life” by sza. but they didn’t come out how i wanted so we’re just gonna stick with these !
♡⃕ okay but the way I’ve been actually feeding yall likeeee 🤭
𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐏 💗: isaiah 41:13
© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟧 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗂. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽
#⁎˚ ໒ 🎧🫧 ( a piece from mia ) ˚ ⁎#dc comics fluff#dc comics headcanons#bruce wayne fluff#bruce wayne headcanon#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne x y/n#dick grayson fluff#dick grayson headcanons#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x you#dick grayson x y/n#jason todd fluff#jason todd headcanon#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#wally west fluff#wally west headcanons#wally west x reader#wally west x you#wally west x y/n#kaldur’ahm fluff#kaldur’ahm x you#kaldur’ahm x reader#aqualad fluff#aqualad x reader#aqualad X you#aqualad x y/n
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I want to preface that I do agree with the curating your own online experience and that you are responsible for enforcing your boundaries by removing yourself from people or situations that violate them, it is not other peoples responsibility to manage or control your emotions. They can't control you, you can't control them.
I can somewhat understand why people might be asking others to police their content rather than doing it themselves.
I sometimes do the same myself in face to face interactions and didn't know I was for the longest time. This was largely in part that my mother wouldn't listen to the boundaries I'd try to set with her as a child, which in a round about way taught me that my boundaries aren't something that I enforce on myself so others can enjoy my presence, but rather something others would have to choose to respect for my own comfort.
Sometimes it's impossible to remove yourself from someone or a situation thus making setting healthy boundaries difficult if not impossible. That's the kind of situation where you feel like a prisoner and can be a dynamic of abuse.
So that's how I can understand it.
I want to say that giving someone that kind of power over you is only going to continue the helplessness you feel and is going to frequently lead others to either be hurt and burdened by you, or manipulate and abuse you.
My feelings and actions are my choice and responsibility and mine alone, as are yours.
Life doesn't have to feel like a prison.
It's your life, take control of it.
Stuff kids on tumblr better relearn
1. You are responsible for your own media experience.
2. There is such a thing as a healthy level of avoidance towards topics that make you feel unwell or even (in a real-life clinical definition of the term) trigger you - but you are the one to actively take care of what you view.
3. Avoiding does not mean policing others.
4. You have no right to tell artists to censor themselves - you may criticize what others do, you may dislike it, that’s fine - but actively asking for censorship when you could easily unfollow or block a person just makes you look incompetent in your use of the internet.
5. Do not give people on tumblr or /any/ website the responsibility for your emotional well-being. Because these people do not even know you so no, you have no right to ask them to take care of you.
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This could be just my hormones going insane but I just need a fix of Steve/eddie (or both) giving reader some loving cause all of her friends are having babies and she’s feeling a little bit frustrated it’s not happening with her. Either of the boys end up catching the vibes so they doo all they can to help our girl out and it sticks
What I would GIVE!
cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) grinding, breeding kink, creampie, mention of pregnancy, hurt/comfort, cockwarming
Having a baby isn’t something you’ve ever really thought about. Your life has always been so you haven’t really had the time, but as you’ve gotten older, you’ve begun to wonder if maybe you wouldn’t mind having a little one running around. You see the tiny little clothes when you’ve gone shopping and your heart bursts. At restaurants, you’ll see the cute little families and wonder what if that could be you?
Your baby fever get even worse when one of your close friends who just had her first child invites you over to meet him. The second she puts him in your arms and his tiny hand wraps around your finger, that's it. You just know you want one of your own. A little baby that you would raise until they eventually would venture out in the world on their own.
But that's all a pipe dream in your eyes. That would never happen for you because you’re single and sperm donors and adoptions can be tricky. So you're just stuck thinking about it for the rest of your life, just hoping, wishing that it'll miraculously happen.
You spend the whole drive home sobbing. You can barely even see through your tears, but you somehow make it home to your apartment that you share with your best friend, Steve. And for once, you hope he isn’t home, because there's no way you can tell him why you're crying. It'd be way too embarrassing.
So you wordlessly hurry to your room where you bury yourself under your covers as the sobs pour out of you. You feel so pathetic for crying about something like this, but you can't help it. It just hurts way more than it should.
There's a knock at the door and you're so glad that you locked it. You really can't talk to Steve right now. He just wouldn't understand. You know that he would be understanding and sympathetic like always, but this time, it would be even better if he was actually experiencing what you are.
"Hey, y/n," he says from the other side of the door and you can just imagine him with furrowed eyebrows, the look he always gets when he's upset. You know you've hurt his feeling by shutting him out, but this is for his own good. He doesn't want to have this awkward conversation with you. You're sure of it.
"I know you're upset about something so I uh, I made you that hot chocolate you like." He's so sweet that it makes your heart ache sometimes. What did you do to deserve a best friend like him?
You throw the covers off of you and make your way to the door. You unlock and open it to reveal Steve's sympathetic smile. He holds the mug out to you and you take it, taking a sip before heading back to your bed, Steve sitting next to you, but making sure to keep some space between the two of you.
Just like always, the silence isn't awkward between the two of you as you sip on your beverage and he just sits there. You set the mug on your desk then sit next to him again, this time to where your thighs are touching and you lean your head on his shoulder.
His arm wraps around your arm, his hand moving lazily up and down it as a way to comfort you. You can't help but let you mind wonder what it would be life if Steve was the father of your child. You're he'd be the perfect candidate, but you're sure that he'd think it was weird. His best friend wants to have a baby with him? That's definitely out of his comfort zone and you know it.
"You wanna tell me what's bothering you?" No fucking way. you're taking that shit to the grave. You've got to make something up, and fast.
"Just womanly stuff, you know how it is," you sniff, feeling tears streaming down your cheeks again. You do your best to try and pretend that your stomach is cramping and Steve is quick to pull you into his lap.
His rests is hands on the lower part of your stomach where he knows they get really bad and he begins to massage the area to relieve some of the pain. He always take sure good care of you and that's how you know that he would be a great dad.
You think about him doing the exact same thing when your stomach starts showing, talking to the baby and you suddenly feeling wet between your legs. You're staring to see Steve in a different way and you're not entirely sure how to feel about it.
"How does that feel?" He asks, looking down at you and suddenly, every single thought is replaced by your need to know what his lips feel like. They look like two pretty, pink pillows and you just can't stop staring.
“I’m not really cramping,” you tell him, feeling guilty that you lied to him. “I uh, I was actually upset because-well, because everyone around me is getting married and having children and I just-that’s what I want. I just want a family, Stevie.”
You look so heartbroken and Steve can see your eyes welling up again. He suddenly gets an idea, but he knows it’s crazy. When you mentioned having a family, clearly he wasn’t supposed to be in the picture. But now that it’s come to his mind, he can’t stop thinking about it.
He’d be honored to have a baby with you. He just knows you’d be an amazing mother, especially when he’s seen you with the kids in his family at different Harrington functions. Now that he’s thought of it, he can’t unsee it. Now he’s got to see it through. That is, if you agree. And why would you? The idea really isn’t something that he should be suggesting to his best friend, but what the hell?
“What if we had a baby?” He asks, his honey eyes boring into yours and you swear you just might melt. He’s so sweet sometimes that you don’t feel like you deserve him. He takes your silence as his answer and quickly tries to backtrack. “Just forget I said anything.”
“No, Steve,” you grab hold of his face in your hands, forcing him to look you in the eye. “I’d love to have a baby with you. Honored, actually.”
“You would?” His face lights up and you can’t help but laugh at how adorable he is.
“Yes,” you nod.
You move so that you’re straddling his lap while his hands rest on your waist. Shit, you’re really doing this and Steve can’t hide his excitement. This might be the smartest thing he’s ever done.
You make the first move, leaning down and bringing your face to his, slowly capturing his lips with yours. He's quick to respond, trying to match your pace as his lips move against yours. Yours are soft and he's convinced that this is the best kiss he's ever had. You know exactly what you're doing and he's just desperate for more.
Just as he melting into you, he feels you grinding against his crotch and he lets out a whine, already feeling himself getting hard. This has to be a record for sure. He lets you do what you want, loving everything you're doing so far.
His tongue slides into your mouth and he swears he's going to come just from hearing you. It's so hot and now that he's hearing it person and not on the other side of the wall when you pleasure yourself, he's sure it's even hotter because he's the cause of it.
“God, you’d look so pretty,” he sighs against your lips. “So fucking hot. And I’d praise you any chance I got.”
He’s saying all the right things and now you think you’re ready. You’ve-you’ve never done anything like this with Steve, but something about it feels so good, so right.
Your top comes off and it’s thrown to the side as Steve takes advantage of your now exposed skin. He kisses and nips at chest as you melt in his arms, mewling at every touch of his lips.
He slips the straps of your bra off of your shoulders and continues his kisses there, mixing in his lips with it as your hands grab hold of his biceps, digging your fingers into his skin.
“So fucking pretty,” he mumbles against your skin and you flush, feeling hot from both his compliments and his soft lips. “Now let me see you.” He unhooks your bra and pulls it away from your body to reveal your bare chest.
Your nipples are hard and Steve’s mouth waters as he thinks about how badly he wants them in his mouth. They’re practically begging for it as your back arches, moving your body from side to side, his gaze following you.
Without warning, Steve grabs hold of your waist and turns your bodies so your back is flat against your bed, him on top of you. He goes straight for your nipple, taking it into his mouth, giving it a hard suck as he pins your arms to the bed.
You gasp as the feeling and Steve continues, introducing his tongue as he licks and sucks on your nipple, one of his hands moving to massage the other one so it gets some attention as well.
Your back arches against his as a pretty moan falls from your lips and he takes that as an invitation to continue. He bites down hard and you mewl, your fingers gripping the bedding underneath you.
“That’s a pretty sound, baby,” he compliments as he pulls away for a split second. “Wanna make it again?”
“Please,” you whine and he goes in again with another as you let out another moan. Once you’ve reached your peak, he moves onto the other nipple, doing the exact same routine until you’re orgasming again, grabbing onto his shirt, trying to pull it off of him so you can proceed.
Steve’s shirt is off in an instant and he kisses his way down your torso slowly, giving your stomach special attention. He peppers it with kisses as he showers you with the sweetest words, wanting to make you feel special, to know that he really wants this and isn’t just doing it because he should.
“You’re gonna be such a great mother,” he starts off, pressing a kiss to the spot right above your belly button. “I’d be honored to raise a child with you.” Another kiss to the spot. “Fuck, I’m gonna love filling you,” is what he finishes off with before pressing a kiss to the spot right above your jeans. He then unbuttons them and you just now you’re a mess now, feeling your slick rolling down your legs.
Your jeans are off in an instant followed by your panties and Steve undressed himself before spreading your legs wide, lining himself up with you before slowly inserting himself. It’s a tight fit, but by the time he’s done with you, you’re going to be so loose.
His pace is slow as he takes his time, watching you so intently to make sure that you’re okay. You’re more than enjoying yourself, it seems as you moan and whine, your nails scratching down his back. Steve didn’t realize just how much he loves not using a condom, feeling every single part of you against him.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he says as his thrusts pick up, moving even faster, inch by inch trying to get all of himself inside you.
“Haven’t done this in a while.” It’s at least been a couple of months.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll loosen you up in no time.” He’s pumping even harder and faster now, trying to get to a pace that the two of you will enjoy and continues at that pace as you respond positively.
“And look at that. You’re taking me so well.” He’s moving so fast now that the bed is squeaking underneath you, moving back and forth with every pump and you’re eating it up, needing feel all of him.
“More,” you whine and Steve just chuckles.
“Can’t go any faster than this.”
“No, Steve, more.” You grab hold of his hips and push him further inside you, bucking your hips against his so he gets the hint.
“You got it, sweetheart,” he winks. “Sure I’m not gonna hurt you?”
“I want you to. I just need to feel you. Want you to fill me.” You buck your hips again and again as the two of you work together, trying your best to get the other off.
He’s all the way inside you now and you can feel tears pricking your eyes as you can feel every single inch of him, so sure that he’s going to split you apart. Not that you mind. That would actually be the best way to go of you’re being honest.
“Taking me so well. Look at you, so close to coming. I can see it. Fuck, you’re beautiful. Gonna look even more beautiful with my baby. Gonna-“ his words are cut off as he reaches his own orgasm. He releases inside you and you watch him come undone, curling his head towards his chest as his eyes shut tight. His fingers are digging into your waist and you push his hair away from his sweaty face as he’s coming down.
He’s got just enough energy for little more. Just enough to get you there. He’s moving as hard and fast as he can, watching you come undone underneath him. You’re so pretty, the perfect mother for his child.
As soon as your orgasm is over, Steve lowers himself down onto, not even bothering to pull out because he just wants to be this close to you for a little longer. His lips find yours in a gentle kiss before he lays his head on your chest, your fingers running through his hair.
You spend the rest of the night like that before cuddling up in your bed, the two of you discussing baby names, deciding that neither of you care whether it’s a boy or girl.
Nine months later, you welcome your baby girl into the world. Steve is right by your side the entire delivery and seeing you hold her for the first time, he’s sure that you’re going to be an amazing mother and he’s so excited to navigate parenting with you.
#stranger things#steve harrington#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x y/n
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i finally finished the new storyline and i needed my men to come pick me up bc i was scared (nothing against caleb girls just not my thing AT ALL) so i thought about how they’d react if you told them what really happened in skyhaven:
i think zayne would of course be really taken aback, immediately pressing you if you had any injuries you hid from him. also insisting you drink twice the water you have been to flush everything out of you. he would insist that you don’t need to protect caleb, that your well being is much more important than a childhood acquaintance of his’s feelings. when you pushed back, telling him that it couldn’t be him, not really— because he wasn’t acting the way he used to. he would be patient with that and understand your grief, but walk through it in a gentle, calm, rational way with you. make you understand that just because it was him doesn’t make it any less traumatic and fuck yes he will be pressing charges, only if you let him. which you wouldn’t, and he understands that. he’s patient with you and soft and kind on the nights when it feels too real, that your childhood friend, the boy you mourned held you captive in his cold home with eyes you didn’t recognize, and holds you until you stop crying and shaking. “you did good.” he would remind you with his favorite kisses, straight to your forehead. “you did everything you were supposed to.”
and sylus, naturally, would see red. it was one thing for you to be held against your will, oh, the colonel’s on his list for that, believe him. it’s another for you to feel as if you need to protect your captor, your tormentor, just because you were so close to him as a child. he asks you where your anger is, and you remind him he technically did the same thing to you when you first met. his face falls, and he shuts his mouth. things are tense for a couple minutes while he finds the right thing to say. ultimately, he knows this is not about him, but you and your feelings— and he’ll be damned if he’s the reason for another frown on your face right now. so, he grabs your wrist before you can leave and brings your hand to his lips, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. “what can i do?” he asked softly. whatever you need right now, he’ll do it. you want him to escort you next time? he’ll happily do it, even though he trusts you to handle yourself. you want him march up there and put a bullet between his eyes? done. gladly. but he knows you don’t want him to do that, you’re too kind, too good, so he softens his vengefulness and is his gentlest with you. he pampers you with everything his princess could desire, everything you would need to relax. he kisses you softly and holds you until you fall asleep, whispering vows that he’ll always be there to protect you when you can’t protect yourself. when he realizes you’re finally asleep, he takes his hand out of your hair from where it was softly resting and reaches over to his phone, shooting off a few texts and gets his men to research everything there is to know about caleb to write up a contigency plan. just in case. it’s not like he’s gonna use it!
#my writing#love and deepspace#lads zayne#lads#lads sylus#lads mc#zayne li#sylus qin#sylus x reader#zayne x reader
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Hello, good morning/afternoon/evening/night. I'm the anon that requested for the platonic!dad Lilia vanrouge headcanon. I've finished reading it and I would love to request for the biological one! The adopted headcanon was amazing. And I also apologize for for not putting in my request with more thought 😅.
Thanks for the ask! I can totally do that! And don't worry about it, I was hoping to get to write both anyway <3
(I don't know if I'm thinking too far into it, but I wasn't sure if you wanted pre NRC or present, so I'm going with the same as last time)
!Platonic!Dad! Lilia Vanrouge x Biological Daughter
(Kinda a second part to This in a way)
However it came to be; a one night stand, a past lover, or some freak magic accident, you were Lilia's one and only blood relative left. His darling daughter.
Don't get me wrong, Lilia loved Silver and Malleus more than anything, but it felt different looking at you and being able to sense his fae blood running through your veins.
When you were left to the single father's care it was after he had already dealt with a newborn dragon. He believe that as you were his own flesh and blood you'd surely be easier to care for, but oh how wrong he was.
If anything, you were MORE difficult to deal with because you were his own flesh and blood.
Lilia finally got a taste of his own medicine when you started imitating his pranks (how did you even get in such a high cabinet).
At least he understands your magic and can help you figure out how to control it.
He treats you virtually the same as if you were his adopted child, just with the fact that you have his magic in mind- . . .he looked away for one second, where'd you go?
One time, Lilia left you and Silver with a pre-teen Malleus for him babysit as he had something to attend to. Silver spent the whole time sleeping whilst you spent the whole time making malleus play games with you (he didn't mind, he was just happy to have a friend). Lillia came back to see you and Malleus reenacting the war with wooden animals Baur had carved for you (maybe he told you too many stories of his glory days).
Lilia still loves doing your hair- what's that? You want to do his hair?
The other generals keep their mouths shut, but their eyes are glued to the great Lilia Vanrouge and his messy, lopsided pigtails with bright pink and blue bows on each for the entire briefing.
You escaped the cottage once when he looked away to try and get Silver to eat his food, and he had no clue where you were for almost a day. He was freaking out and about to take his magearm and go on an all-out rampage when he got a letter from the queen saying you had 'made a delightfully unexpected visit to the castle for a playdate with Malleus.'
Lilia rushed over to the castle immediately, ready to scold you, but when he got there he couldn't bring himself to. Instead, he fell to his knees crying as he watched you and Malleus sleep softly: cuddled up to each other. The queen found him in this state and simply patted him on the back before recounting how he and her daughter had once pulled a very similar stunt back in their youth. (he has her recount any and all stories of him causing trouble as a child in order to hopefully have a leg up on any stunts you pull in the future)
Right when he thinks he knows how to handle anything you throw at him, you come home with an owl bear cub in toe asking tow. You recount the story of how you found it next to its unmoving mother, and he has no choice but to let you keep it.
When you tell him you want to name the owl bear 'Bear' he tries to argue with you that it's not a very good name, but you win. Bear it is.
Anytime you and Silver go out in the woods to play he sends Bear with you just in case.
Baur gets quite the shock when he comes to pick up his grandson from the cottage only to find him riding on the back of an owl bear as it chases you and silver (you were just playing tag).
He turns to the cottage to see what Lilia was planning to do about this only to see him casually. . .barbequing (if you can even call it that) in the garden and watching you all play. Baur ends up staying longer than expected, mostly to salvage whatever slop Lilia was making for his poor kids, but also to hear Lilia's explanation as to WHY IN THE GREAT SEVENS' NAMES THERE'S AN OWL BEAR PLAYING WITH THE KIDS.
The time finally comes for Lilia to head off to NRC with Malleus, Silver, and Sebek, but this time let's say (for the sake of being different that the other fic) that you somehow end up there as well. Lilia would have liked you to be in Diasomnia with him, but you instead end up going to Ramshackle with the prefect. This is an all-boys school after all, so the best place for you to be on campus is probably in the dorm with the only other female student. (That and Bear came with you and Ramshackle already has Grim so. . .)
There's no telling what trouble you'll get to in your time staying at NRC, but rest assured that Lilia will be there to help you out (whether that means getting you out of trouble or helping you cause more).
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#twst#twisted wonderland#twst fanfiction#twisted wonderland fanfiction#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#lilia vanrouge#lilia vanrouge x reader#dad lilia#platonic#fluff#twst fluff#un-fwuit-un-fwog
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''Dream at first lust''
(Ambessa x reader NsFw)😭🥵❤️
(Part II is here..!!)
18+ Read it at your own risk!
---Imagine waking up in the middle of the night, only to find Ambessa standing before you. What would you do?---
I want Ambessa so bad guys! I'm scared of myself!!
Note: Thanks for waiting, everyone! I've been busy with college lately, but I still made time to update this story. I’ve already finished drafting the next two chapters, and all I’ll say is that—the next chap is where the spice gets even spicier! I can’t stop giggling Ugh! 🥵🔥🔥🔥
“I-it’s not what it looks like,”. It was all you could think to say.
Ambessa only looked at you, her lips curving. She tossed the phone back onto the bed with a casual flick of her wrist, the screen landing face down. The flashlight blinked off, plunging the room into darkness again.
Your heart raced as you scrambled, crawling across the bed to switch on the lamp beside the bed. Warm light flooded the room, but it only made things worse.
You froze, a curse slipping from your lips as your eyes found her once again.
Ambessa was still standing there, proud and tall, but the warm light didn't make things better it only made the room sensual in your eyes—the way the warm light illuminate her silk robe clung to her figure, the deep plunge exposing a delicious, taunting glimpse of her cleavage. The loose folds of fabric shifted just enough to expose her long, toned leg, smooth and strong. God! Help! Why is she so fine...
Your face burned, your breath hitching as heat rushed through your body. Can't believe your eye fucking her. You knew you should look away, but you couldn’t. She was a goddess made to attract everyone and you were one of it's victim.
Ambessa noticed. Of course, she noticed.
“I’ve seen enough, child,” she said smoothly, her voice cutting through the silence. Her lips curved into a small, wicked smile, her gaze locked onto you. “I was wondering why you couldn’t even look at me properly. But now... I think I understand.”
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re wrong…” you said weakly.
“Oh, don’t play coy,” Ambessa murmured, her voice dipping into a sultry purr. Her mind was set—no excuse you gave would change her mind.
“I’ve seen that look before,” she continued, stepping closer. Making sure to have a good look of you. “A mix of fear and… hunger.”
Ambessa's words hit you like a thunderclap, and you couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. She leaned forward slightly, her robe shifting just enough to reveal half of her cleavage as if teasing you at more of the skin you already couldn’t stop staring at.
“You have a fascination,” Ambessa continued, her voice soft but deliberate and inspecting how you stare at her chest. “In ways you shouldn’t.”
Your chest tightened, your head spinning with embarrassment, arousal, and desperation.
“I—” but nothing else came you. Words failed you completely under her gaze. Ambessa knew exactly how much power she held over you—knew the effect she had, the way her presence alone unraveled you. And from the way she reacted, she wasn’t denying it for a second. She liked it.
She chuckled softly, “Don’t worry, child,” she said, her voice wrapping around you.. “I find it... amusing. Endearing, even.”
“P-please, just stop talking for a minute,” you stammered, your voice cracking as you buried your face in your hands, wishing the earth would open up and swallow you whole.
Ambessa’s chuckle was soft but unmistakably amused. “Besides,” she said, her tone sharp yet teasing, “you already look guilty enough.”
You glanced up at her, confusion written all over your face. “What… what do you mean?”
Ambessa didn’t reply. Instead, she turned and began to pace the room, her steps deliberate and calm. Like she didn't transported in a strange place. Her movements carried a grace, her robe shifting slightly as she walked, revealing tantalizing glimpses of her powerful legs. She stopped at the curtain, her hand pulling it aside. The city unfolded before her—a glittering sea of lights and towering skyscrapers against the night sky.
You watched her closely, noting the way her expression flickered between confusion and curiosity. Her sharp eyes scanned the skyline, taking in the overwhelming modernity before her. She looked like someone completely out of time, out of place. She was as confused as you on how she mysteriously appreared in a strange place.
Ambessa gaze didn’t leave the window. Before she continue, “You’ve delved into yourself deeply tonight. Shamelessly, even.” She turned her head slightly to look at you, her piercing eyes finding yours once again. “Enough to present yourself with such… confidence.”
Her words carried a weight you didn’t fully understand, but the way her gaze shifted—her dark eyes trailing over you—made your stomach twist. You slowly glanced down at yourself, your heart stopping your eyes widen in disbelieve the realization hit you like a freight train.
You were naked.
Oh shit!
H-how can you be so clueless! You’d forgot how you fallen asleep in nothing but a tight red strap tube, the fabric clinging to your skin and leaving absolutely nothing. No bra, Your nipples, hard and proudly percking clearly visible, pressed against the thin fabric, announcing themselvesto the person infront of them aching for her attention. You were dressed slutty and downright scandalous and Ambessa wasn't shy to stare at you.
Heat rushed to your face, your entire body burning with humiliation as you let out a startled squeal, grabbing at the bedsheet and pulling it over yourself in a panic.
“No. No, no, no, no,” you muttered frantically, wishing this was all a horrible dream. You’d completely forgotten that you’d fallen asleep like this—after… that. You were just flashing yourself with your legs wide open in front of Ambessa, completely forgetting you were naked. Now you want to hit your head for being so stupid.
Ambessa’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she watched you flail, her lips curving. Your assumsion leading she already knew what you did before she appear. Her gaze lingered on you, and it was clear she wasn’t going to let you escape the moment. Your breathing were harder now, and you reaches around the sheets for support.
“Tell me,” she said, her voice low and teasing “Was this all for yourself?” She tilted her head, “Or were you hoping for… company?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. Your throat felt tight and all you could do was clutch the sheet tighter around yourself. The trembling in your body betrayed you, every nerve alight under the weight of her piercing gaze. Mortification mixed with want and needs.
You wanted to admit it. To agree with her, to give in to the pull of your arousal. Every instinct screamed at you that this was the moment—the one your fantasies had been wishing toward.
Your mind wrestled, whispering that maybe this wasn’t real, that it was all a dream your subconscious had conjured to torment. But if it was a dream, why fight it? Why resist? You should enjoy it. Take advantage. Surrender to the magnetic pull of her dominance.
Ambessa chuckled, starting to walk toward you closer this time, making your eyes widen. She stop beside you looking down at you like you were a feast infront of her. Stepping so close to the bed. that you could feel the heat of her presence. Her sweet smell and your arousal getting wild.
“Relax,” Ambessa said, her hand reaching out to tilt your chin upward, forcing you to meet her gaze. The moment her skin brushed yours, a shiver ran down your spine.
Her touch was firm, but not rough. “I’m not angry. or anything... I’m flattered”
Your breath hitched. “Y-you are? ''
“Of course.” Ambessa smirked, “How could I not be? You’re only human, after all. And humans are so predictable when faced with power and lust, aren’t they?”
She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper against your ear. “Tell me... what is it you fantasize about?”
You froze and avoid gaze, your mind a storm of panic, desire, and sheer disbelief. It feels dirty and wrong and your shaking with need.
“Oh, don’t be shy.” She pulled back just enough to look at you again, her expression one of amused curiosity. Her face was so close to yours that you could see the finest detail of her face, and it was enough to make you weak. “I want to hear it. Or...” Her thumb brushed your jaw as she tilted her head thoughtfully. “...should I guess?”
Please, don’t… You knew she already knew what you were thinking, it was all inside the phone and she was just teasing you, fascinated by your reaction. Before you could stop yourself, a question slipped out.
“Do you even want to do it with a woman! ” you blurted out, instantly regretting how uncertain you sounded.
Ambessa paused, one brow arching. Like you just asked a dumb question. She knew exactly what you were doing—grasping for a distraction, anything to shift the tension away. But from the way her lips curled into a smirk, it was clear she wasn’t irritated. If anything, she was entertained.
Arms crossing over her broad chest, she leaned back slightly. Then she chuckled.
“You mean, do I fuck women?” Ambessa repeated, her voice laced with mockery. “Is that what you’re asking, child?”
Your breath hitched at the boldness of her words, and you could only manage a small, mortified nod.
Her dark brown eyes gleamed as she leaned forward again, closing the space between you, suffocating you in the sheer weight of her presence.
“Oh,” she murmured, dragging out the word like a tease. “You don’t know just how much I do.”
The smirk on her lips widened, “I fuck every woman I can get,” she said, her voice thick with unshaken confidence. “Strong, soft, bold, shy—it makes no difference to me. They all have their… charms.”
She tilted her head, watching your reaction before adding, “The only thing that matters is whether they can keep up with me.”
Ohh god please.. you can't take her teasing anymore..
But if it really is.. does she want it to a stranger like you. Why haven't she questioned your identity or be suspicious. On how she mysteriously transported in a whole new dimension. "W-why are you doing this...?'' You asked ''What if I'm really one of the Black Rose, and I dragged you here?" you pressed.
Ambessa’s brows meet and hardened, and her once calm expression turn anger that made your chest tighten. You just made a big mistake. Regret, you didn't just keep your mouth shut.
"Don’t fool me." She straighten “I know the Black Rose. I know what they’re capable of. But you?” She gave you a look of pure contempt, "You are no threat to me. Not by a long shot. You are just a helpless, deluded woman—so desperate to fantasize about being used and discarded by someone like me."
You shifted back, your heart pounding with fear. You hated to admit it, but you were starting to fear her. This was the warlord standing before you. Yet, deep down, you knew you like this side of her.
“You don’t get to play me, child” Ambessa said, her voice sharp, “I’m not as nice as you think I am.”
Her eyes locked onto yours “Don't ever mention and use those words again or else you might not like what i do to you. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you remember exactly who you're dealing with.”
Your throat went dry. You tried to think of something to say, but the words stumbled from your lips. Your eyes started to blurry. You didn't want Ambessa to hate you. “I-I’m sorry, Ambessa. If I upset you… I just love you so much. And all of this feels like a dream come true. I have this thing, a-and I’m curious ab—”
Ambessa grabbed your jaw to make you look at her. ''No more blabbing child. And when did i permit you to use my name as you please. For now call me my lady.''
You shoke your head in agreement ''y-yes my lady medar-'
Without warning, something thick and long plunged deep into your throat—her fingers, moving in and out, mimicking fucking. Gag you tell your breath hitch. The sensation was intense, almost too much, stealing the air from your lungs. You couldn’t quite catch your breath, the pressure and pace pushing you to your limits. Making your eyes rolled in your eyelids.
F*ck! This is really happening...
Your wide eyes locked onto hers, pleading silently for a moment to process, of the overwhelming intensity. But she offered none—no pause, no mercy. Her remaining fingers clamped tightly around your chin, holding you firmly in place as though daring you to pull away.
"Is that all you can do? Beg for mercy, only to be treated like the whore you’ve always desired? Tell me, this is what you want? right." Ambessa's voice was low, steady, laced with a dangerous kind of softness "Just one word, and I’ll stop all this..." Her gaze bore into you, there was no unspeakable mistake in her eyes, dark and hungry.
You shook your head slowly, trembling not in disagreement, but in desperate plea. You didn’t want her to stop. You couldn’t. Every nerve in your body screamed for more, even as the sensations overwhelmed you. It felt so good it was almost unbearable.
"Use your words, little one," Ambessa murmured, each word sinking into your skin. And just like that, every ounce of restraint in your body dissolved. Her fingers slid out from your mouth, trailing to the corner of your lips, leaving a glistening smear of saliva. You look up at her smitten all over over face.
Oh, God.
"Yes!" The word tore from your lips, trembling with desperation. "F*ck, yes—keep going, don’t stop. My lady... you can do anything you want with me..." you pleaded, clinging to her arm desperately, like a kitten afraid to be abandoned. All that mattered in that moment was your need for her.
A victorious smirk appeared on Ambessa's lips. “Then prove it, little one. Show me how much you want me,” she said, her voice with a mix of seductive.
For a moment, you thought Ambessa might close the distance between you, but instead, she stood up straight and stepped back. Confusion flickered across your face as she dragged your desk chair toward you, the sound of it scraping softly against the floor. Placing it firmly in front of you, before she sat down.
Her legs spread wide, shamelessly confident. Her hands rested casually on the arms of the chair, her fingers tapping lightly as if she were waiting for you to entertain her. In this moment, she looked every bit like a queen surveying her subject, and you were utterly captivated.
“W-what do you want me to do?” you stammered, your voice trembling as you tried to hold yourself together under her piercing gaze.
“Straddle my thigh,” Ambessa said smoothly.
Your heart pounded in your chest as her words settled over you, heat pooling low in your stomach. But still, you hesitated, your body frozen in place, overwhelmed by the intimacy of her command.
You swallowed hard. “Your thigh isn’t what I want, my lady,” you whimpered softly, barely able to meet her gaze. “I want you. Please. Touch me more”
Ambessa’s lips curled into a slow, wicked smile, a glint of amusement dancing in her dark eyes. “My thigh is all you get right now,” she said, her tone teasing yet firm. “You’ll have to prove yourself first. If I’m satisfied, then i may be nice enough to grant your wish..”
#ambessa#ambessa medarda#ambessa x reader#ambessa smut#ambessa x you#wlw#arcane#arcane x reader#ambessa fanfic#arcane s2#arcane season 2#lesbian
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New Rook Drop!
I have just accepted that, the longer i play the game the more i want to make a rook for each person so it's just gonna be a thing.
New Rook: Fox Aranai (Lord of Fortune) menace with a heart of gold and a lover of the beautiful and dangerous, just like her dad.
She is the child of my Dalish Elf Warden Wolf and Zevron who is very much a sort of Robin Hood type among the Lords of Fortune.
She is pretty close to both of her parents, but she takes after Zevron the most, especially the being a menace part.
Her skill with the bow and ability to survive in the wild was taught to her by her parent Wolf, while her skills of observation and charm came from her father.
Both parents are very proud of the woman she has become and they talk as regularly as the can, considering one is wanted by their old faction and the other is busy being the Grey Warden commander.
And since she is very much a lover of the beautiful and dangerous, she falls hard and fast for Taash, especially when she see's her literally breathe fire.
Fox's inner monologue, "By the Gods, crush me, right here. Head between your thighs. I will die happy."
And so of course, this revelation immediately has her running to her dad going, "Dad! Dad! Did you see that? Did you see? They can breathe fire! Ah! They are so cool! Look at all the muscles! Ah!"
Zevron see's Taash and is just, "You are definitely my child and I approve."
---
Valiant "Thorne" is the son of the Queen/hero of Ferelden and King Alistiar.
Even thought he is much closer to his mother, mostly because he is her spitting image both physically and mentally, he still loves his father very deeply.
His father understands that Valiant's need for solitude like his mother, will not allow him to be as close to him as his younger siblings but, he makes sure that Valiant knows that he still loves him and supports him no matter what.
Especially since, unlike many of the other noble families that survived the Fifth Blight, his parents actually listened when he told them that the courtly life wasn't for him.
And that's where his mother came in, offering him to become a warden after he nearly beat one of the nobleman's son's to death for trying to force themself on one of the elven maids that worked for the family.
His parent's are immensely proud of their oldest son even though they don't get to see him much anymore.
He just hopes, that with the darkspawn in the south, he will actually get to see them again when it is all over.
---
Heeey Howdy! 🤠 Happy Friday!
How it works: I ask you a question about your Rook(s) and you answer it with as much brevity or verbosity as you desire. You can do this whenever you want, and I’ll reblog it + add some comments! There’s no time limit— if you want to do the older ones, they are collected here! (The post is updated on Fridays!)
1/24/25– I schedule the RIH posts out one per hour between 8:30 am - 10:30 pm MST. I already have posts scheduled out for most of the day today, so your rbs will be a bit delayed! Thank you for your patience !
Today’s Question(s): Does your Rook have parents? If not, surrogate parental figures/mentors? Do they like them? Do they resent them? Are Rook’s parental figures proud of them? Do they talk to them regularly? Have or will they meet your Rook’s LI or the other members of the Veilguard?
Answer as much or as little as you like! Have fun?
#dragon age#veilguard#rook#the rook introduction hour#origin post#dragon age rook#datv#da veilguard#dragon age the veilguard#lord of fortune rook#warden rook
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Hi I love your mh character analysis posts they are so GOOD, would you be able to do more about Tim pretty please :]
First of all, Thank you :-)! Second of all, yeah I have some things I can say about Tim, though a bit funnily, they are a bit discoordinated compared to some of my other analyses.
After all, out of all the characters in Marble Hornets, Tim Wright is the one we know most about, as his life is laid out for us pretty definitely over the course of the series. Because of this, my focus tends to be on his metaphorical other half, Masky, but I do have some things to say about the two of them and their upbringing, and a few unanswered questions which I will try to satisfactorily put my pen to.
⟦content warning: discussions of child abuse/dangerous households, suicide, hospitals, and wildly off the rails theorycrafting⟧
Alright, so why is Tim a system? This is a question some of you may raise your eyebrow at if you're unfamiliar with DID but stick with me here. We know that Tim only started being taken by the Operator and having seizures in 1995, when he was a child, but over seven years old. (I'll get into how we know this later.) We as a society honestly don't know a lot about Dissociative Identity Disorder and its sisters but one thing we do know is it is caused by extensive stress/trauma inducing dissociation in a extremely young childhood, usually under the age of seven if not even younger, where the mind dissociating from trauma to protect itself causes it to fail to coalesce/develop properly into one identity. That is the main theory behind how DID forms, and given that Tim is only seeming to be extensively exposed to the Operator at seven, but would that be enough for Tim to develop DID? Alex didn't develop it, despite also being hinted at having been exposed to it at the same age.
Note: In enttry #37, we see a home video of Alex at 6 years old in 1991, with heavy Operator distortion implying that it has somehow corrupted this tape and/or was here. This combined with the fact Alex repeatedly goes to a playground to confront/find the Operator in my opinion more or less guarantees that he saw it as a young child. This makes sense especially considering the original "Something Awful" forum pictures in my opinion. Alex's backstory with the Operator basically directly references them, which would make sense since they literally inspired the series.
Granted, you could just hand wave this or go "ok but who cares, they probably weren't even trying to make a character with DID," and yeah, you're right, but I want to actually look at Tim's character and explore his childhood a bit to try to understand it, especially in relation to this fact.
Our main fount of information in relation to Tim's childhood is Entry 66 and Entry 60.5. I am going to start with the latter, for a few very specific reasons.
See, in Entry 60.5, we actually get to see 5 of Tim's medical documents, not just one. This is a fact that is seemingly forgotten a lot by the fandom, and I wanted to get into it for my speculation.
The first document we see though is a Pediatric Admissions Profile from December 12th 1995, followed up by a Pediatric Admissions Assessment of the same year at 11:45 A.M. I do not believe these records are from his institutionalization, but rather a hospital visit that directly proceeded it, one that was probably caused by Tim having a seizure at home and needing to go to the hospital, but lets take this one step at a time.
These Admissions forms explain that Tim's conditions and symptoms at his time of admittance, ones we know well as products of Operator exposure. They also give us a precious piece of information that never comes up again though.
Tim's mom's name.
Janet Wright answers all the questions on the Pediatric Admissions Profile, and it is through her answers that we learn several facts, like that Tim has completed 2nd grade at the time of these papers, (meaning he is probably in 3rd,) and that he is on an anti-convulsant, along with the fact he has a history of falls, apparently needs/has glasses, has emotional barriers to learning, that someone has smoked in the house in the past year, and that Tim lives at home alone with her.
This is something reaffirmed on the PA Assessment, which was probably something that either a nurse or his Psychiatrist filled out by asking Tim himself questions.
Under Category 5., Assistance required for Care, there is a part where it says that for emotional support, "Child relys on: Mother (✓) Father ( ) Sibling ( )". Additionally, it also says asks, "who else besides parents might be staying with child?" Which is answered with a Not Applicable, along with the question, "has your family had any recent changes in your life? (moved, divorce, birth, death, new job, etc.)" Which is also answered with a no.
It continues, and we learn from it that Tim has poor orientation to time along with his chronic headaches, as well as signs and symptoms of depression, as well as that he struggles to engage with peers his age and doesn't have/begin hobbies.
Most importantly though, it is mentioned that his condition isn't affected by his household, which could refer to simply his seizures, but I think is important to mention given his depressive symptoms. At least in this moment, it doesn't seem like to the person doing the assessment that Tim is depressed due to his mom.
(Though that can be hard to pick up on but regardless.)
We also learn that he experiences high risk on a Fall Assessment Scale, as he is checked off as "confused, disoriented, hallucinating, combative," and having a history of "syncope, seizures,"—which is underlined—"postural hypotension".
I believe he only really started to have seizures this year though, as it is mentioned under "Plan of Care" that he ran away from home two "somethings" ago before being found at Rosswood, which I believe to be weeks or months. (If it was two years, why still mention it here?) I don't think that Tim ran away though, but rather, was taken and teleported by the Operator and Operatortured, an event that left him having chronic seizures. After all, despite Jay being exposed to the Operator for years, we only see him begin to have those only after the Operator snatches him in Entry 72. I think this snatching/possible Operatorture is key in it inducing/beginning to induce seizures.
Moving on though, two of the next three documents are from the same day, with both being from 7/8/02.
The first (Delayed Therapy Communication Form) that we are shown being filled out at 15:10 or 3:10 PM, and the second being an assessment (Suicide/Self-Harm Assessment Tool) that was filled out at 8:45 in the morning, probably by hospital staff in preparation for therapy later in the day. On the latter, Tim was left with a rather high suicide risk score, and a comment of supposedly untrustworthy answers.
There is a document that Jay reads sandwiched between these two though, from 1/10/Year Redacted. It is a Brief Operative Progress Note, about a procedure seemingly in relation to an unmedical wound with a ton of redacted information, and based on placement and the fact "Hoody" purposefully arranged the papers like this, I believe he was trying to imply to Jay that this was a suicide attempt by Tim at the start of 1996, which led to his hospitalization.
-
Wow. Ok. That was a lot. Let's summarize and break down the facts though.
At the end of 1995, Tim Wright is being raised by his single mother, Janet Wright, with it being unclear if his dad was ever in the picture. Tim was probably in 3rd grade at the end of 1995, which puts him at around eight to nine years old. At this point, he seemingly had a history of seizures, but around this time he also started showing symptoms of depression, hallucinations and even supposedly "ran away" from home at one point.
It seems like Hoody, based on how he organized these papers, seems to want us to think that at the start of 1996, Tim had either a suicide attempt, or a violent episode that could've been misconstrued as a suicide attempt.
Note: Personally, I think it was misconstrued. I say this because well, we know how the Operator can warp reality, and in Entry 66 Tim says, "My mom [sent me inpatient] when I was really young, but she never told me exactly why," and that the doctors seemingly gossiped about the fact he had violent episodes and hallucinations which led to him being institutionalized, which he doesn't remember. Of course, maybe Tim was just lying to Jay and leaving stuff out, but based on the rest of this scene and everything else he says, I find that unlikely. I think it is possible that Masky tried to defend himself and Tim from the Operator and got hurt in the process, and due to his lack of verbality and strange/differing behavior from Tim's, it was interpreted as a violent and/or suicidal episode cause by a hallucination. Either way, none of this does align with the fact the wound is "clean," but that could be more about it not being infected and/or recent than a clean cut.
Either way, after this, in conjunction with advice from doctors and the stress of caring for a mentally ill child and hospital visits/bills, Janet Wright admitted Tim into inpatient care.
It is after this point, (based on dialogue from Entry 66,) that we know Tim sort of fell out with his mother, as she "wasn't really around" for him to ask things. I can't say why she distanced herself from him, and honestly that is where my sympathy runs dry for her, but we know based on what Tim doesn't say that he more or less didn't have any family. His mother was probably raising him on her own, and her decision to put him inpatient probably had to do with the fact she just couldn't care for him and genuinely thought it would be better/safer.
Ok. Cool. Unfortunately, still none of this answers the question as to why Tim is a system. Based on all this supplementary evidence though, I do have two kind of routes/ideas I could see as possible/likely which I want to share, so pick your poison.
A】 Janet Wright was neglectful, either by accident or on purpose.
Neglect can cause DID, especially severe emotional neglect causing a disruption in child development, and if Tim's dad was never in the picture, along with the stresses of being a single mom, it could be hard for Ms Wright to meet Tim's needs. Maybe she didn't even want to be a parent, but found out she was pregnant to late, and so decided to "give it a shot."
The real mold in the juice box for this theory though is the fact that Tim's medical records (Pediatric Admission Assessment, Page 2, 6. Abuse/Neglect/Exploitation Screen) answers no to "evidence of neglect by caretakers." Granted however, this is when Tim is in 3rd grade, and it can be hard to always pick up on emotional neglect. Perhaps it could be misconstrued as depressive symptoms for example, and Tim's issues with starting hobbies and connecting with peers could be due to him not being properly socially met/developed growing up, but honestly I am unsure how I fully feel about this theory.
What it comes down to is just that, besides knowing she smokes regularly, we don't know much about Janet Wright, and while she fell out of touch with Tim, that could be for literally any number of reasons. Demonizing her or deifying her both kind of make me grimace. Maybe she blames herself for his condition and her guilt drives her away, and after a while she felt it would be wrong of her to go back after abandoning Tim in the first place. Maybe she just never wanted a kid and took the option to ditch him. The point I am getting at is we just don't know.
Which is what brings me to theory two.
B】 Tim's dad was in some way abusive, causing Janet to leave him to protect Tim but leaving him with trauma.
It would explain why Tim's dad isn't in the picture in a way that feels concrete, and why Tim never tried to reach out to his dad's side along with why he has DID. Maybe too, if Janet was in an abusive relationship, that somehow got in the way of her reaching out to her side of the family, which is why Tim never did either and why she didn't have any help for raising him and dealing with his conditions.
I don't really have much to say on this one either, but it would explain why there isn't direct evidence of neglect along with why his mom isn't blamed for his depressive symptoms by the doctor and why Tim said in his Assessment that he relies on his mom for emotional support. That is because he does, but they were just unfortunately in a situation for a while where he couldn't properly get it.
Sure, she probably isn't perfect, but in this reading she does care for him, and did try to get him a better life.
I think this would especially make sense when you consider the fact that Masky, Tim's protector alter, has a feminine presentation.
Often alters formed in especially early youth will take heavy direct inspiration from their environment, especially parents. Maybe since Tim's mom did protect him some of the time and eventually got him away from his dad, this idea of her and by extension femininity as a whole being this unstoppable, almost deified force of nature stuck with him on a subconscious level. She was fierce and seemed impenetrable, especially to a little kid who idolizes their caregiver in the face of abuse, and I think that influenced why Tim's brain made a protector like Masky that is simultaneously feminine aligned out of the blue and so aligned with defending people/defensive violence.
Because yes, Masky is violent, and often they do threaten/attack Alex with "Hoody," but that could easily be because they remember the fact Alex attacked them in Entry 56/57 along with stuff like the fact "Hoody" most likely told them about how Alex killed him and needs to be taken care of. They know Alex is dangerous, and so a lot of their actions are protective or in an attempt to save other people.
Like, in Entry 35, their motives can be hard to read, yes, but if they just wanted to fight someone they could have easily gone for Jay instead of running past him to get Alex. I actually think they could've easily been waiting here because they knew Alex was following Jay and this was the last place Jay was, and they wanted to stop Alex from getting to him because he could (and literally does) try to kill Jay. Along with this incident, they stop Alex from shooting Jay and Jessica in Entry 52, and seemingly distract him while those two escape and drive away to safety. They also act to protect/save Jessica from the Operator and Alex with Hoody in Entry 76. They also seemingly only stop directly working with Hoody after he hurts Tim, i.e. causing him to have a seizure to trigger them out, which Masky seeming to sever their partnership over.
Listen, there's no answer as to why Masky is feminine, and maybe there doesn't need to be, but based on how DID works and Masky's general behavior, to me it is obvious that they took subconscious inspiration from something, and I think it could be how their mom protected them and Tim.
Note: This is not to say Masky and Tim have a maternal/parental relationship, even if Masky is partially based on their mom in an abstract sense. In my opinion, they have a relationship almost similar to like, how siblings will go through trauma together and be bonded by that fact because they wholly understand what the other person is going through, or how a slightly older child might try to take care of a younger one and be parent-ified but still while not holding the authority and control of a parent, though obviously different because they're a system. I guess my main point though is that they're equals, and Masky loves Tim very much. Masky does have some power over Tim because they cause amnesia when they front during traumatic episodes and accidentally puts him in danger sometimes, but ultimately they have a more push-pull relationship to me, even if Tim isn't aware of it. Because, even if Masky does front sometimes, Tim is usually the one in control almost all of the time. But really that's another post I could make lmao.
Either way, whatever way you think Tim got DID, one thing is clear. His life fucking sucks.
-
If you want my personal belief on what his childhood is like, taken with a bit of salt, I don't think Janet Wright is purely innocent, (she could've very easily been incidentally neglectful given the vagueness of the circumstances,) but I do think that Tim's dad could have been a shithead if only because of how it parallels my Alex headcanons and I like that, along with Masky being based on their mom aesthetically to some extent.
(As a system, I loveee system weirdness.)
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed.
#Tim Wright#Marble Hornets#Janet Wright#Masky#(to some extent at the end. and also bc im talking about systim)#ng.systim#ng.mh#sorry if this is messy bleh i need a nap smiles
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Scrangle PLA postgame quest script edits with 1 major facet of canon changing: Volo seems more open to the idea of Scrangle maybe actually being an otherworldly being.
Of course, he quickly decides he hates Scrangle anyways for a variety of other reasons
•••
Volo "See these patterns modeled after Pokemon? I've come to think that they might be letters-- rather like hieroglyphs, if you will."
Volo "I've inspected ruins across the region and have concluded that they all seem to tell the same tale. The tale of a brave soul who, together with the Pokemon at his side, went on a journey to search for the fragments of an all-encompassing deity."
Scrangle [eyes widen] "Deity?"
Volo "Yes. An all-encompassing deity-- the creator of this very universe. And its name is..."
Volo "Arceus."
[Scrangle's eyes shine with recognition and excitement. Volo notices. He expected this.]
Volo "Perhaps you've already heard this name?"
Scrangle [darkly, sneering a little] "I know it."
Volo "Of course! What else could I have expected from the hero who saved the Hisui region! But now, let us discuss the fragments."
-- ... --
Volo "So what do you say, Scrangle? I think we should gather all the plates!"
[a huge, hungry grin splits across Scrangle's face and they nod enthusiastically]
--
Volo "Have a look at this, Scrangle."
[crushed statue]
Volo "This statue has been kept here, far from the statues of Dialga and Palkia...Broken and shattered, and yet it remains..."
Volo "Do you know what it is?"
Scrangle "...No."
Volo "Oh? You're the greatest wielder of Pokemon this land knows. The one who could bring low even Dialga and Palkia. But it seems certain things are beyond even your grasp..."
[Scrangle shoots him an irritated look, feeling patronized. Volo tries not to be too amused.]
Volo "This crumbling statue once was the figure of a Pokémon–one that was equal to both Dialga and Palkia, yet banished from our world...The great Pokémon Giratina! It was banished for its violence, left to dwell in a world on the reverse side of our own. It is a being that has lain in wait for the chance to bare its fangs in defiance and tear down Arceus itself."
[Scrangle reaches out and gently touches the leg of the statue, wonder in their eyes.]
Scrangle "...Could I meet it?"
Volo [eyes widen] "You want to meet it? Well then..."
Volo "If this Giratina desires more than anything else to challenge almighty Arceus... where do you think it might appear?"
Scrangle "The temple?"
Volo "Exactly! Where one is closer to the heavens than any other place in Hisui! ...And where the space-time rift first opened!"
Volo "Huhuhuh... HAHAHAHAHA! I can feel it... We are getting closer to uncovering the secrets of this world! I daresay the excitement is loosening my lips more than it should, but..."
Volo "You see, ever since I was young, whenever I met with something painful or heartbreaking... I couldn't help but wonder why life was so unfair. Why I was cursed to live through such things. [very pointedly glancing at Scrangle] Of course, I imagine we all go through something like that.
Scrangle looks at him, difficult to read
Volo "Eventually, I chose to direct all my energy into my own natural curiosity and ambition. And what tickled my curiosity more strongly than anything were the mysteries to be found in legends, in history, in ruins... You see, I fancied that by unraveling these mysteries, I could find out how the world itself came to be–and with that knowledge, maybe even forge a new, better world!"
Scrangle [squints, doesn't really get it] "..."
Volo "Now, if we can find the realm that exists on the reverse side of our world...and meet the creator's unwanted child banished therein... perhaps then we'll be able to understand the nature of almighty Sinnoh itself!"
[Scrangle's eyes light up, questions forgotten at the promise of a chance at revenge]
Volo "Don't you want to see it with your own eyes?!"
Scrangle [manic] "Yes!!!"
Volo "We must make for the Temple of Sinnoh at Mount Coronet's peak! Dialga and Palkia both appeared from within the rift that once gaped open there, didn't they? If these plates can call anything at all, it seems likely that is where it would appear!"
Scrangle "YES!!! YES, WE SHALL MEET GIRATINA!!!"
Coronet Highlands - Temple of Sinnoh
• Before battle
Volo "The temple lies in ruins now... Columns cracked and broken... Like pillars now turned into spears, stabbing into the heavens..."
Volo [suddenly less gravitas] "Well, I detect a distinct lack of Giratina."
[Scrangle stops walking, and looks at him, perplexed.]
Volo "Hmm? Is something bothering you?"
Scrangle [frowning hard] "We haven't looked yet."
Volo "Ah, I do beg your pardon. I suppose I must seem to be behaving strangely!"
Volo "I daresay you deserve to know what I'm really after by now."
[Scrangle just looks more confused]
Volo "Ever since I became convinced that Arceus really does exist, there has been one question that consumed my thoughts... How can I meet such a being myself?"
[Scrangle looks confused again.]
Volo "It was in an attempt to answer this question that I originally sought out Giratina and had it tear open that rift in space and time--"
[Scrangle's eyes widen with angry recognition. Volo opened to portal that brought Scrangle here!]
Scrangle "You--!"
Volo "--because it was Giratina who wished to stand against Arceus. But that didn't do the trick..."
[Scrangle clenches their fists]
Volo "So then I had you gather the fragments of the all-encompassing deity, just as the murals of the ruins directed."
Volo "Eighteen plates said to be the fragments of the all-encompassing deity... You hold in your hands seventeen of them."
[Scrangle possessively touches their pouch]
Volo: "So, you must be wondering: Where is the last one?"
Volo [pulls the plate out] "Why, it's right here!"
Scrangle [furious] "GIVE IT TO ME!"
Volo [shocked blink] "...Pardon?"
Scrangle "GIVE IT TO ME NOW, YOU PEON!! YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!!"
Volo "Huhuhahaha!! Now, now! You're the one who scared Kamado with all that talk about monsters and tyrants."
Scrangle [REALLY pissed] "I wouldn't be in this awful place to BEGIN with if it weren't for you!!"
Volo "Ah, now I see...It is awful, isn't it?"
Volo: "But even from within this wretched place, we can sometimes catch glimpses of something greater. I know you've seen it-- the rift, the frenzied nobles, the Great Sinnoh, even artifacts like the red chain!"
Volo: "I'm not sure what you are or where you came from, but clearly you can see this world for what it is."
Volo "Those plates are our key to understanding what lies beyond everything that confines us here! The path to a better future depends on us! Now, give me the plates!"
[Volo takes a step forward. Scrangle takes a step back.]
Volo "Why are you holding us back?! Don't you understand the significance of this moment??!"
[Scrangle doesn't instantly respond, and Volo is clearly out of patience.]
V: "My desire to meet Arceus cannot be contained any longer! I need to know what it is! I MUST know what it is!"
Volo "If I can meet Arceus myself, then I may also be able to subjugate its power... And using that, I will attempt to create a new, better world--!"
Scrangle [snarling] "YOU STUPID WORM!! THAT TYRANT MUST BE ANNIHILATED!!"
Volo [eyes widen] "...Oh."
Volo [blank with shock] "The 'Tyrant' you hate so much...is Arceus itself?"
Volo "Huhu...You keep finding ways to surprise me, Scrangle."
Scrangle [gritted teeth] "YES! I will destroy Arceus at any cost!"
Volo "Hah!! As if I would ever let that happen, you ungrateful little squirt!! I'm not above taking those plates from you by force."
• Upon being defeated
Volo "Why? Why would Arceus favor a disrespectful wretch like you?!"
• After being defeated
Volo "Why? How?!"
Volo "I've devoted myself to Arceus beyond any other! I worshiped it as the creator of our entire world! I bent all of my passion and interest to its study! All the time I've spent poring over the legends... Everything that I've done—!"
Volo "You rotten brat!! It's almost as if you were spat out of the space-time rift just to get in my way!"
Scrangle [sneering] "You are the most annoying punishment the Tyrant has forced me to endure."
Scrangle "But now, Arceus has abandoned you!" [holds out their hand] "Give me the plate!"
Volo "No, this isn't finished yet!"
Volo "Can't you feel it? The chill creeping through your veins—the eldritch presence icing your heart?"
Volo "Giratina! Strike her down!"
• After Giratina is defeated
Volo "Turning tail and running? From this puny HUMAN? Pathetic--!"
Scrangle "NOT human!"
Volo [ignoring them] "--I was the one to feed you the power you needed so that you could take on Arceus! I was the one who gave you the chance to claw open that space-time rift, driving the deity of space and time mad so that you could drag the creator out from hiding!"
[Scrangle, furious at being ignored, starts approaching Volo]
Volo "How? How could this happen?! Almighty Arceus, if you have any heart within you, then--!!"
Scrangle "SHUT UP ALREADY!!"
[Scrangle begins grappling with Volo, trying to nab the last plate from him by force]
Volo "You--! You--!! Grr! You little MONSTER! Do you even understand what you're trying to do?!!"
Scrangle "I'm taking my revenge!"
Volo "No, you moron!! Without Arceus, the world will be destroyed with nothing to take its place!"
Scrangle "Liar!!!! Destroying Arceus will destroy my prison!!! I'll finally-- grr! -- get my old body back!!!"
Volo [a little genuinely distressed] "You're insane!!!"
[Volo and Scrangle have shuffled dangerously close to the cliff. Scrangle is infuriated by what Volo just said, and jumps to try and grab the final plate out of his hands. They manage to get a hand on it, but lose their footing when they land, and end up hanging over the ledge. Volo only just manages not to be dragged over with them.]
[Scrangle breathes heavily, barely hanging on to the smooth plate and beginning to slip. Volo stares at her.]
Scrangle [looking down] "Does...falling from this high...kill humans?"
[As they finish asking, Scrangle makes eye contact with Volo, and in that moment truly looks like a desperate, scared child.]
[Volo lets go of the plate.]
[He watches Scrangle fall, and then reflexively flinches away and squeezes his eyes shut when they would have hit the ground. But instead of a thud, he hears the distinctive cry of Giratina. He snaps his eyes open just in time to see a spacetime vortex closing.]
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Hear No Evil - Chapter 3
Masterlist
Chapter 2 // Next (tbd)
CW: bbu, bbu-typical institutional slavery, nonsexual and sexual nudity, implied prior noncon, it/its pronouns used to dehumanize
Rowan stared down, transfixed on the boy kneeling at his feet. The starkness of it all washed through his blood like ice. His eyes swept over the pale, naked skin, a canvas covered in scars that spanned hues from pale white to deep red. Fresh bruises overlaid the scars, a similar patchwork of purples and blues that belied the shape of handprints and bludgeoning tools. As he drank in the carnage, it dawned on Rowan that the boy was even scrawnier than he’d suspected when peering through the bars of the cage on the sales floor. Now, in the bright lights of his condo, he could see frail that ribs showed through the taut skin of the boy's back.
Then, Rowan’s eyes locked on the thick, standard-issue leather collar, the only item resembling clothes this boy had been afforded for transit. It was tight around his neck, a small padlock affixed in the back. Rowan knew that the key had been secured somewhere in the box, likely in a packet along with the rest of the paperwork. The paperwork, of course, that was affixed to the lid of the empty box just a few feet away.
“Hey there,” Rowan said, using the same voice he would if he were speaking to an injured child. What else could he do? He was in a position of undeniable power and influence, and the least he could do was try to reduce the threat of his very presence. “My name is Rowan Bailey, but uh, you can just call me Rowan. Welcome home. Well, it doesn’t have to be your home forever, but uh, for now, yeah? Oh, man, I’m getting ahead of myself here. I’m already talking too much, I know, I’m sorry. I just want you to know that you’re safe now. That’s the most important part. You’re safe now, and you’re going to live here for a little while, and I’m going to help you. You’re safe, I promise”
The boy didn’t react, didn’t flinch, didn’t lift his head. Rowan bit down on his lower lip, still tender from where he’d worried it raw overnight. Part of him wondered if even a single word of what he’d just said had gotten through, stirred any understanding, instilled any comfort. How could it, when Rowan didn’t even believe in himself?
---
The pet strained to make out what Master was saying. There was a warm buzz of words above its head, but it couldn’t discern a single one. Master had certainly said a lot, and the pet could only hope that there hadn’t been any important instructions. Its first impression with its new master was important, it knew that. Its old master had discarded it for this same insolence, this same tendency to ignore his words and to exist only between the ringing of its own ears.
So the pet strained further, titled its chin up just a little bit, hoping that it could steal a glance upwards and to Master’s lips. Then, only then, it might be able to discern the commands from the other rambling words. And if it failed to do so now, it would certainly feel the sting of its disobedience in short order.
---
The boy didn’t move, much to Rowan’s disappointment. He felt almost certain that he’d said something wrong, or otherwise not said something that he should have to get his attention. It’s not like he could ask the boy’s name – he knew that the so-called pets were expected to respond to their ID numbers, but there were no proper names given – and it’s not like they could speak as equals until some serious deprogramming had taken place. As far as the boy was concerned, Rowan owned him body, mind, and soul. There was no conversation to be had.
Rowan took another breath to muse over his current situation. He wrung his hands together to hide the fact that his fingers were shaking, body buzzing with adrenaline. All he’d done so far was talk, rambling and tripping over his words, a directionless prattling of platitudes. Since he hadn’t issued an explicit command, perhaps, it was possible the boy wasn’t going to move or respond until Rowan gave him something more to work with.
For all his time and effort invested into the PLF and its mission to liberate people from oppression, Rowan had never spent much time with victims in active rehabilitation, and certainly none in the early stages of rescue like this. He was trained to blend into the crowds of buyers, of skeptics, of men poisoned by lechery, lust, and power. His mission was to capture the horrors, the abuses, to steel his stomach against the cogs of the system and the bodies it crushed as they turned. And with the coolness of an undercover operative, he’d sit at this desk into the early hours of the morning, stitching together the footage and audio that he’d spent his weekends capturing. It was the niche in which he’d thrived, and it was one that he’d never had an interest in moving beyond.
Facing the victims that had been pulled out of hell was a different skillset altogether. Rowan believed it wasn’t just a different skillset, but an entirely different personality type, that was required to do such important work. To try and heal the victims, to see them clawing their way to personhood from brokenness, had always put a deep discomfort in his bones.
But now, his own discomfort would have to be secondary. He’d made the decision to bring this boy into his home, and now it was his solemn duty and obligation to bring the boy from where he knelt now and into a future of freedom. Rowan knew that it would take the heart of a man much stronger and braver than himself in the moment, but for now, he was all the boy had.
“Alright,” he said out loud, hoping his voice sounded steady despite his nerves. “I’m going to head over to the box you got here in, yeah? I’m going to grab the papers there and find the key to undo your collar. Once I get that off, I’ll show you your room and some of the clothes I got for you. I think- well, I know that the papers lied about your weight, so I’m sorry if the clothes are a bit big. You can get dressed and then I’ll make us lunch. I’m sure you’re hungry – have they fed you? Oh, that’s a stupid question, of course they haven’t, they never give food or water before transport. Right. That’ll be our second order of business, then. Collar off, bedroom and clothes, then food and water. That sounds like a plan, yeah?”
Rowan thought he could see the boy’s head perk up just slightly, almost imperceptibly, eyes peeking up between thick black eyelashes and unkempt hair. But as soon as Rowan peered down at the boy’s face, that same gaze darted back down.
“Oh, it’s okay, you can look at me,” Rowan continued to ramble as he fished the key to the collar’s padlock out of the black bag that included another standard-issue collar, an ID tag with Rowan’s contact information and the boy’s WRU number, and a referral card to WRU-sponsored electric collars. Once the collar was off the boy’s neck, this whole bag would be disposed of, Rowan was sure of that. He’d never have to wear such a cruel device again, not so long as Rowan was breathing.
Despite his attempt at reassurance, the boy kept his eyes glued to the floor. If they were going to make any progress, Rowan knew he couldn’t let it bother him, and he certainly couldn’t take that behavior personally. They had to take this at the boy’s pace, not his own. However slow that would be, Rowan had to be okay with it.
“I’m going to touch your neck now,” he said as he leaned down towards the collar. “You can let me know if I need to stop. I’m just going to unlock this collar, and then I’m going take it off.” Just as the rehabilitation materials had encouraged, Rowan walked through every step of what he was going to do, using plain words and reassurances.
He also knew that he’d receive no protest. Resistance and the concept of refusal were trained out of victims of the system, so he just had to hope that he was doing right by the boy in removing the collar right from the start. Part of him wondered if this action was for his own comfort rather than his new guest’s comfort, but he couldn’t stomach such a blatant sign of the system binding this victim. There was no way he could hope to begin rehabilitation with a mark of ownership sitting heavy on the victim’s neck.
The padlock came undone with just a slight twist of the key, and the collar came unbuckled just as easily. Rowan eased the collar off and stuffed it in the bag, tossed the key in after it, and cinched it shut. It would go in the bin just as soon as the boy was settled in.
“There, how’s that feel? It must feel nice to let that skin breathe a bit. I’ll take care of that – I promise you’ll never have to see that collar again.”
---
The pet felt more naked without its collar than it actually felt from its true nakedness. The collar from its old master had been exchanged for a standard-issue collar once it had been processed through the facility, but it seemed that Master had no intention of fitting it for a new one at the moment. That was okay with the pet, of course it was, because its job was to abide by its new master’s preferences. If that meant that it would go without a collar, so be it. Perhaps Master had a different mark of ownership that he preferred.
Master was talking still, going on and on, a soft hum of sound that wrapped through the hall. He’d stepped to the side, so the pet couldn’t try to read his lips even if it dared to look up. Given that there was no shouting, or no blows against its body, it figured that there hadn’t been a command yet. It strained its senses for the sharp bark of a command, a change in tone that would indicate the pet’s attention was needed, but none came.
Instead, Master began to walk down the hall, spilling words into empty air. After a moment Master’s footsteps stopped, and turned back towards the pet.
Oh, the pet realized with a jolt of fear up its spine, Master wanted it to follow.
So, follow it did. It did so on its hands and knees, as was expected unless given the command to stand and walk, and it followed Master down the hallways of its new quarters. Something inside its chest tightened, a sensation of both fear and excitement. What awaited it down this hall? What would its first few hours here with Master bring? Its skin puckered with the lingering chill of transport, and its body ached with the final bruises and scars of the latest refurbishment cycle, but it could bear whatever lessons Master was going to imbue. After all, it wanted nothing more than to serve Master with all of its being. It wanted to be good.
---
“You, ah, can walk if you’d prefer. Upright, that is, on your feet. Or, uhm, if that’s more comfortable for you right now, that’s fine too.” Rowan felt like he was tripping over his words as he looked back at the boy crawling behind him. It was enough to make him feel like he was going to be sick.
This isn’t about you, he reminded himself again. This isn’t about you and your comfort level. Get comfortable with being uncomfortable.
The second bedroom was the first door past the kitchen, a door which Rowan had left ajar. He’d purchased a two-bedroom condo with the intention to use the second bedroom as his office, which it had been for the last three years. That was, of course, until the early hours of the morning as he’d prepared for the boy’s arrival.
In many ways it was still more of an office than a bedroom. A few hours had only given Rowan so much time to redo the space in preparation for his guest’s arrival. There were some things – including way too many boxes of old AV equipment piled in the far corner – that wouldn’t have a place in the condo otherwise. But Rowan had still managed to take out the desk and his main workstation so the futon would fit comfortably. He’d also filled the filing cabinet drawers with the clothes he’d purchased for the boy, a temporary fix that would have to be sufficient until he got a proper dresser set up. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. It was certainly more than the boy would have been afforded in the training facility.
“Here we are,” Rowan said as he swung the door fully open and turned on the light, “this is your room. I know it’s really messy right now, and that there’s a lot of junk in here, but I’ll have that moved out in no time. But, yeah, the futon is yours, your bed I mean. All of those blankets are yours too, but you don’t have to use them all, just however many you want. I didn’t have more than one extra pillow, but I have another one on order. I’ll get around to ordering you a proper bed this week, you know, a mattress and all, plus some new sheets. Those sheets there are clean, I promise, but I didn’t have time to patch the holes or deal with the fraying. I mean, okay, I didn’t have time to do even half of what I wanted before you got here. But this was kind of a last minute thing. I know that doesn’t make it right. But, I mean, those clothes are yours, feel free to put them on. If you don’t like those, there are some more in the filing cabinet over there, some different options for pants and shirts and stuff, maybe you’ll want to layer up. I bet it’s a little cold in here for you, yeah? I can turn up the heat. Or if you’re fine, I won’t. It’s your call, yeah.”
Rowan wished he had the ability to shut up. He was usually more composed, more succinct in his words, concise and direct. Silence and attentiveness was his trade. Now, with the world shifting beneath his feet - the feet at which a young man knelt - he felt like he was coming undone. Words came freely from an otherwise tightly-sealed mouth. But the boy crawled into the room with fluid determination, clearly indicative he’d retained something from Rowan’s rambling.
Instead of going to the bed, and instead of proceeding towards the filing cabinet with the clothes, the boy crawled to the center of the floorspace that Rowan had cleared and resumed his kneeling position there. Motionless.
---
The pet tried to glimpse what it could of the room as it moved forward, head bowed, eyes supposed to be on the floor. There was something resembling a bed to its left, and piles of boxes to its right. There was some furniture further into the room it couldn’t quite get a good look at, not from this angle. Still, it could sense the room was small, furnished as though it were an afterthought.
Master was much chattier than its old master, a continuous hum of noise that should be words, but words that the pet couldn’t quite hear. It was still all too distant through the ringing in its ears. Fear replaced frustration, it always did now, ever since the last of its hearing had started to fade. Its attempt to obey any commands, even at the training facility, were usually its best guesses. Only when its old master or its trainers would raise their voices, bringing their yells to a fever pitch, could it reliably decipher what they wanted.
Of course, it couldn’t raise the issue with them. For as much as hearing had been taken from it, speaking had been taken from it as well. A pet was seen, and not heard. Its old master had commanded complete and utter silence, and since the pet had failed to obey that simple principle, it had paid in its hearing.
Silence. And so now, as it knelt and prostrated before Master, it ensured its breath was level. No errant wheezing, no sobs choked up in the back of its throat, no whining or whimpering. Silence, beautiful silence, and listening as best it could for whatever command might follow.
---
“You go ahead and get dressed, yeah? I’m going to head to the kitchen get us both something to eat. I’m not really sure I have the stomach for it – hell, I’m not sure you do either – but it’ll be easier to tackle the day with some food in our systems. I’ll make sure to get you some water too, you’re probably parched. I’ll shut the door so you have some privacy, and I should be back in just a little.”
Rowan still wasn’t sure whether any of his words were getting through, but he knew he had to try. A few steps back and he shut the door, giving the boy enough time to cover himself in private. In the meantime, Rowan turned his attention to making something resembling a meal. He had picked up a smattering of ingredients from the supermarket last night, as much as he could grab in the fifteen minutes before it had closed. That haphazard grocery haul had included a few varieties of jams and breads. Rowan had no idea if the boy had any personal preferences for his sandwiches, and he had a feeling that he wasn’t going to learn any time soon.
“Can’t go wrong with a PB&J, right?” He muttered to himself as he opened the fridge to grab the bright purple grape jelly. “That’s a solid meal, shouldn’t upset the stomach, palatable by most people’s standards. Yeah, some peanut butter and grape jelly for me and him, that’s the plan.”
The sandwiches came together quickly, although Rowan paused to put an extra spoonful of peanut butter on the boy’s sandwich, and then another. It looked like he was at least thirty pounds lighter than had been marked in his WRU papers, and likely at least twenty pounds lighter than he should be for his size. Although Rowan wouldn’t be able to tell for certain until he convinced the boy to stand, it seemed that there would be a lot of dense and calorie-rich meals in the boy’s future. But as with everything else, healing from starvation would require time and the intervention of professionals much better equipped than Rowan. A sandwich would have to be a good enough start.
Rowan fished his phone out of his back pocket and glanced at it. The screen was blank – no missed calls, no missed texts. It seemed that the rehabilitator hadn’t called him yet. After double-checking to make sure that his ringer was on so he wouldn’t miss the call when it came, he grabbed the plate with the boy’s sandwich, as well as a fresh glass of water, and took it back to the bedroom.
A knock on the bedroom door elicited no reaction, not even a creak of the floorboards. Rowan hadn’t exactly expected an answer, but he still paused an extra moment before pushing the door open.
To his disappointment, but certainly not his surprise, the boy was kneeling in the exact same position he’d been left in almost ten minutes prior. The blankets hadn’t moved, the drawers hadn’t been opened, and the boy was still naked. He clearly hadn’t moved a muscle.
“Alright, you don’t have to get dressed, I guess,” Rowan tried. Again, he would certainly feel better if the boy got dressed, but he wasn’t going to push his luck. Not yet. Clothes would come in due time, and as long as he was meeting the boy’s needs, discomfort was survivable.
Instead of pressing the matter further he knelt and placed the plate and glass of water within his new guest’s reach. Even this didn’t elicit any movement. Maybe, just maybe, Rowan thought he saw the boy draw in a slightly deeper breath, skin shifting over his stark and visible ribs. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light.
Before Rowan could speak again, his phone rang.
Ah, shit. A quick glance at the screen confirmed that it was the call he’d been waiting for.
“I’m real sorry, I have to take this call,” Rowan said while scrambling to his feet. “I’ll be back soon – you can go ahead and eat and drink, yeah? That’s all yours.”
A few seconds later and he was out the door, phone up against his ear.
“Hello, this is Rowan Bailey.”
“Mr. Bailey, this is Angela Herrera, the PLF Rehabilitation Specialist assigned to your case. Mr. Greyson Valentine reached out to me personally to make sure you had immediate support for this unexpected intake.”
Again, just as with Grey’s call, Rowan felt an immediate sense of relief. He wasn’t in this alone. Not now, not ever. There were people that were going to fight for this victim with the same zeal and enthusiasm as they had for so many others. It didn’t matter that Rowan fucked up by taking this on so brazenly, not in the grand scheme of things. Help was on the way.
“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear your voice. And, please, Rowan is just fine. Did Grey – I mean Greyson – tell you the details of our situation here?”
“Rowan, got it. As for the details, well, I got the Clifnotes version via email. It seems that you brought a ward home from a liquidation event with no prior notice or planning. You’re currently lacking any advanced rehabilitation training, and no rehabilitation training with high support cases like this one. You’ve held a primarily investigative job with little to no interaction with victims in rehabilitation at all. And, if I can make a guess from your voice, I’d presume your new guest has already arrived?”
“Yeah,” Rowan said with a wry chuckle, “you’ve got the gist of it. And now I’ve got a naked man in my spare bedroom, and I’m trying to get him to eat a sandwich or get dressed without either of us crying. I’m in over my head here, if I’m being honest. I just wanted to do a good thing, but now all I can think about is how much I’ve fucked up.”
“You did a good thing. I promise, no matter how ill-equipped you might feel right now, you still did a very, very good thing. Rescues aren’t always as clean and well-prepared as they seem in the rehabilitation materials and training modules. For every perfect rescue, the ones where the ward is painstakingly selected based on their best chances at successful rehabilitation and reintegration, there are scrappy, impulsive, and unexpected rescues from well-meaning individuals like yourself. And let me tell you upfront, most of those rescues get happy endings too. That’s where I come in. My job is to support you and make sure that this goes as smoothly as possible, and we can work together to get our new friend healthy and confident in their personhood.”
Her voice was level and soothing, as though she’d practiced these words dozens of times. Maybe she had. It was her job, after all, wasn’t it?
“You sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” she said, and Rowan heard the faint shuffle of papers. “And I’m already getting materials prepared so I can come over and do an assessment and get you guys started on the path to recovery. What does your availability look like for a visit today or tomorrow?”
“I’m completely free until next Monday, which is when I have to go back to work. I took a few days of PTO to handle this whole… situation.”
“I can work with that. It looks like you’re not too far from me, so how about I head over in a few hours? I want to make sure I have all of my materials here in order for you first, but after that, I’m ready to get this case opened and some progress started for both of you.”
“Please,” he said, and he hoped after the words left his mouth that he hadn’t sounded as desperate as he felt. “Today is great. Any time, as soon as you’re ready, we’ll be here.”
“Sounds like a plan, then. I’ll finish getting my things together and then I’ll be on my way. Focus your energy on surviving the next few hours, get him as settled as you can, and then we can take it from there together. I’ll see you soon.”
Can’t be soon enough, Rowan thought, casting his gaze back to the closed bedroom door.
---
The pet stared at the food lingering just within its reach. Its stomach growled with a painful gnawing sensation, a hunger that it felt in its very soul. It couldn’t remember the last time it had eaten a full meal, even a proper serving of the standard issue nutrient shakes at the facility. The last time it had real food, proper food like this, had been with its old master. And even then, it had been many, many months. Maybe it had been years. Only good pets got proper meals, and its old master had been certain about one thing: the pet was not a good pet.
Even after Master had left the room, the pet knew better than to touch either the water or the food. It hadn’t been given permission to eat, not yet. No matter how thirsty, and no matter how hungry, it knew that if it were to survive under Master’s rule, it would have to be obedient. That meant that until it was explicitly allowed to touch this food, until it was given the order to eat and to drink, it would continue to wait patiently.
Hunger was a familiar companion by now. Food was denied as part of its training, often one of its first punishments, and its continued disobedience now showed in how frail the pet had become. It had watched as its ribs began to appear, first barely perceptible across its abdomen, and then so sharp that they caught shadows in the low light. Then came the dizziness, the shakes, the difficulty with its memory. The skin over its collarbones had been pulled tight, and it felt like coldness sat in the hollows between its shoulders and its neck. Its fingers had always been thin, but now they were skeletal, the tendons of its hands dancing like the strings of a marionette whenever it moved.
Those same hands rested patiently on its thighs now. The aesthetics of its body had never bothered the pet, and it knew that its hair and body were to be kept according to its masters preferences. Maybe Master would expect it to keep this particularly lithe form, which the pet wouldn’t mind. It only hoped, a hope that was brief and fleeting, that it would be permitted to eat enough that the incessant shaking and dizziness would finally cease.
The sight of feet reappearing pulled the pet from its wandering thoughts and ever-present hunger.
---
Much to Rowan’s disappointment, both the sandwich and the water remained untouched. Again, just as the first time he left the room, it appeared that the boy hadn’t moved at all.
This second instance of inaction gave Rowan immediate pause. This behavior was exactly what the paperwork had said about the boy, hadn’t it? He’d been sent to the liquidation floor because of apparent selective disobedience to commands.
But Rowan hadn’t given a command, not in the sense that most people did when they spoke to their pets. His suggestions had been conversational at best, his best attempt to emphasize the importance of the boy’s autonomy from the very beginning. The rehabilitation handbook had said this method worked for some individuals who were eager to grasp that first bit of freedom.
Others, however, would sometimes require the familiarity of commands and hierarchical structures before they were comfortable enough to come out of their shells. It seemed that maybe this boy would be a part of the latter group.
Rowan had hoped that he would go his entire life without feeding into the depravity of the system, that he would never issue a command to another human being, that he would treat all persons as equals to himself. But his own choices, his own rash decisions that brought the boy here in the first place, meant that this philosophy would have to change.
It wouldn’t hurt to try gentle persuasion one more time, though, would it? For his own sake, Rowan knew would have to try.
“Hey,” he said, trying to keep his voice soft despite the lump in his throat, “I need to make sure you’re eating and drinking, okay? I don’t know when they fed you last, or if you’re even feeling okay right now, but can you at least drink that glass of water and eat that food? Please?”
Nothing. Not so much as a blink or a twitch that showed any recognition of what Rowan was asking. The boy hadn’t even acknowledged Rowan’s presence besides following him to the bedroom.
Fuck, he groaned internally. There was no use in putting it off any longer. He’d gotten himself into this mess, and now he was going to have to get them both out. It was time to grow a spine.
“You need to eat and drink,” Rowan said, raising his voice ever so slightly. He winced in spite of himself. “You’re going to drink that full glass of water, and eat all of the food on that plate. Now.”
To his horror and surprise, it worked.
---
Master’s voice split from its warm murmuring to a tone that was sharp and commanding. It was the cue the pet had been waiting for.
Cautiously, ever-so-carefully, the pet raised its eyes to meet Master’s lips. It peered through the web of its greasy-thick hair and tried to make out exactly what Master wanted it to do. Lips moved, sharp words cut, and the pet thought it understood.
Drink the water, eat the food.
There would be no second chance to get this right. The pet was incredulous that those were truly the words that Master had uttered. But that increase in vocal pitch, paired with the movement of Master’s lips, was all that the pet could abide.
Even if it was wrong, and even if it had mistaken the precise command Master had issued, it was hopeful that it would at least get a mouthful of water to soothe its parched tongue before the punishment came.
The pet slowly moved its hand from its lap and towards the glass of water. It braced itself for a kick to the ribs, or perhaps another blow to the head, but none came. Hand trembling, both from the fear it couldn’t mask and exhaustion of the last few days, it grabbed the glass. Just as methodically, still waiting for a correction, it raised the glass to its lips. A final pause. No correction came.
It drank. It drank with a ravenous thirst, one that one single glass wouldn’t quench. It could have easily drunk another glass, no, three or four more glasses. The taste of the cool water over its tongue was heavenly bliss. The relief and release of the drink was enough, just for a moment, to dissolve the fear of being in a new place with its new master.
Fear returned as it reached out to grab the sandwich. Eating this would be more challenging, requiring just enough grace so that not even a single crumb spilled from the corners of its lips, but still demonstrating the swiftness and efficiency that was expected of a good pet. Wasting food was a sign of disrespect, and the pet was absolutely grateful for a meal like this. It had no intention to disrespect Master and his generous offerings.
As carefully and daintily as it could, the pet tore its teeth through the bread and the thick spread of peanut butter and grape. It was so hungry that it didn’t pause to appreciate the flavors or textures. Instead, it focused on devouring as neatly as was possible in a near animal state. Without its training it might not have accomplished such a feat, but somehow, it managed to eat the entire offering without a crumb dropping to the floor.
A rumble came from Master’s lips, that same warmness that he’d been using since the pet first emerged from its box. Although some part of it expected some punishment for eating, it didn’t come. Instead, all the pet could feel was some queasiness: it had been so long since it had eaten a meal of that size, and its stomach was soured by the heaviness and a lingering hunger from the recesses of its mind. The signals in its body were conflicting between hunger and nourishment, and the pet could only hope it would keep the meal down long enough for it to make a difference in its foggy mind.
Maybe the meal had been the punishment in and of itself? Maybe, just maybe, keeping itself together after the meal was its first test?
Then another command, a sharp voice, and Master’s feet turned towards the door. The pet hadn’t had the opportunity to look up at his lips, but the options were to either stay or to follow. It paused to think, a moment in time to decide its fate. Master had left the room before, but hadn’t issued a command, and the pet had done right by staying. Now, Master was leaving, but had clearly spoken a command. It paused a moment, but could intuit that the command had been to follow, rather than to stay.
And so it followed.
---
“Follow me to the bathroom, let’s get you cleaned up,” Rowan barked out. He still tried to speak gently, but it seemed that a sharper, more commanding tone was the only thing that was going to work for now. It felt too much like shouting for comfort, and the act of issuing commands itself was disconcerting, but the boy didn’t seem bothered. Still on his hands and knees, the scarred houseguest followed Rowan’s every step.
It was a short walk across the hall to the bathroom. The smell of bleach still lingered in the air, but at least Rowan had been able to mask the stench of mildew and weeks of neglect. For now, though the white tiles didn’t gleam, it was serviceable for a shower.
Rowan patted the new towels he had folded and placed on the toilet tank. Although he wasn’t issuing a command, because the boy hadn’t looked up, Rowan raised his voice slightly nonetheless. It was the only thing that seemed to get through to him.
“These towels and washcloths are yours, so use as many as you need. Soap, shampoo, conditioner, it’s all in the shower. Go ahead and clean yourself up, yeah? Take as long as you want, use hot water, use whatever is in there. It’s not much, but I’m going to pick up some more things that are just for you later this week.”
He stepped towards the door, lingering for just a moment to see if they boy would respond. Instead of verbal recognition, the boy’s frail frame clambered over the lip of the bathtub and into the newly-cleaned porcelain. Hands started to reach for the knobs to turn on the water, head still bowed, so Rowan took his leave.
---
The pet tried not to wrinkle its nose at the heavy stench of powdered bleach lingering in the air. It could already feel the burns that would form on the skin of its palms as it scrubbed the bathroom clean with the caustic chemicals. It knew it shouldn’t have preferences, but it did anyway. They couldn’t beat the preference out of it, no matter how hard they tried. There were so many cleaning products that were easier to work with, that didn’t burn its lungs and throat, that didn’t make its hands raw and red with pain the way that powdered bleach did.
But the bathroom wasn’t the thing that Master had asked it to clean, at least not yet. There was no use dreading an uncertain future. Instead, Master had asked it to clean itself, make itself presentable.
There was no surprise there. The fear and discomfort had served it well, and would continue to serve it well as it learned what Master expected of it. It had shown restraint in waiting to eat until a command was issued, and it had showed obedience in following Master’s commands to follow and to shower. But now, the pet was being asked to read between the lines. A good pet was not only responsive, but could anticipate its master’s needs with effortless grace.
There were few things that a new master would want to explore with their pet on their first day, and the pet was well-acquainted with what likely came next. It certainly wasn’t as clean as its old master would have required before such activities, having only received a quick hose-down before it was loaded into its box. There was still some dried blood stuck to its skin, and its scalp was thick with grease and dandruff that it hadn’t been able to wash out since it began its refurbishment those many weeks ago. Its nose was blind to it by now, but the pet was certain that it smelled faintly like the fear and sweat that clung to the training facility walls.
If it had any hope of pleasing its new master, it would have to spend the time and effort to clean itself up a bit more. First impressions, particularly first impressions of its primary skillsets, were of the utmost importance.
After a few moments of scrutinizing the silver knobs on the wall, it eased the showerhead on. It flinched as the cold water hit its skin, it always did, but then it relaxed into the gentle stream. This was better than any of the rough hose-downs it had received while at the facility, and better than the showers provided for its old master’s pets. The privacy felt like an unearned privilege, and the pet was determined to enjoy the luxury while it still could.
Nerves made it hard to hold steady as it climbed to its feet. Without Master present, it didn’t have to kneel, and standing would make it easier to clean itself. Its head swam with a familiar blackness and ringing in its ears, and it leaned on the tiled wall until the dizziness passed. The food that it had just eaten would help, even if it would take some time to feel the effects of the nourishment. And maybe, just maybe, it would steal some water from the tap now, drink a few mouthfuls as the cold water ran down its face…
No, it reminded itself with a sharp correction, balling its fists up as though Handler Green had shoved the cattle prod into its ribs. This was its first day with Master, its first chance to prove its worth, and it was already thinking of disobedience. Master had already given it something to drink, and it should be grateful. There was no need to steal even a single mouthful now, not even from the freely flowing showerhead, not even in the privacy of solitude.
It banished the thought from its mind and got busy with scrubbing itself clean. First came its hair, so much longer now than when it had entered the refurbishment program, the curls heavy with water and shampoo. The shampoo was light, faintly floral, and the pet relished in the sensation of soap pulling the grime and blood away from its scalp. When it glanced down at the floor of the bathtub it saw that the water was rust-colored as it flowed down the drain.
Once its hair was clean, shampooed twice and rinsed thrice, it took to scrubbing its body down with determined and practiced vigor. Every inch of skin was worked over, even the skin that was heavily bruised and covered in scabs. It allowed itself the grace to wince as it pressed down on the bruises and still-healing wounds, but it still scrubbed away at them with the same determination.
Mostly, it tried not to think about how much its ribs had begun to stick through its skin, and how easily they would break under the slightest application of force. It was fragile now, filthy and covered in the marks of its disobedience. Its insolence was captured by the permanent paint of scars from head to toe.
It scrubbed, and rinsed, and then scrubbed again, until the water turned from copper, to pale pink, to clear. Its arms had begun to pucker with goosebumps under the steady flow of cold water. But finally, with a final rotation and a check that the water was indeed flowing clearly now, it shut the water off.
The towels waiting for it were warmer and fluffier than anything it could remember being given at either the training facility or by its old master. As it wrapped itself in the terrycloth it sighed a small sigh of relief, an exhalation it was sure made no sound. Even if it couldn’t hear such quiet breaths itself, it had learned when others could from its old master’s many corrections. A sigh, by itself and behind a closed door, would likely go unnoticed.
After it had dried itself it carefully folded the towel and placed it on the floor. It would have to figure out where Master kept his dirty clothes and towels sooner or later, especially since it would be responsible for the laundry. There would be time for that soon. But now, since it was clean, it was time to get to work.
The pet settled back down onto its knees, carefully selecting the tiles of the floor to kneel on rather than the rug in front of the sink. It wasn’t going to seek out small pleasures and privileges that it had not yet earned, not on this first day. Everything it did would show that it was good, that it was obedient.
The tiles were better than cold cement it was accustomed to, anyway.
A few moments later the door pushed open. Master was back, here to fetch it, take it back to the room it had just come from. That soft murmuring of Master’s voice came again, the conversational tone like water lapping on a white-sand shore, not the hot knife of a command. The pet still tried its best to listen attentively through the ringing of its ears.
Then, the command came, cutting sharp through the susurrus. Follow. And so the pet did.
As it expected, it was led back to the same room it had just come from. Its heart fluttered in its chest. It remembered where the low-lying bed had been pushed against the wall, and how far it was off the ground. Climbing up on the bed from the ground would pose little difficulty, a single fluid motion enough to situate it comfortably atop the flat surface.
Master walked towards the bed with broad strides, and with a rush of adrenaline, the pet climbed up onto the bed beside the towering pile of blankets. Fabric and plush bedding were soft beneath its knees, and it gave a small sigh of relief that the bed was so comfortable.
There was no time to relish in the comfort, however. The instinct of its training and prior service took over. There were multiple options for it to begin, to entice Master’s senses, but one came to the forefront of its mind. That one, it decided, would show off both grace and the care it put into its servitude.
It placed its hands evenly apart, symmetrical and in line with its knees, forming carefully orchestrated lines throughout its body. Once it found its balance it arched its back, pushed its hips firmly into the air, and lowered its chest towards the bed. Weight shifted forward, onto its forearms now, and it felt confident it would be steady despite its latest wave dizziness and nausea. Although it couldn’t quite see itself from this angle – there was no mirror here like there was in the training facility – it was confident that its posture was perfect.
There were many things the pet had failed at during its training, and during its time with its old master, but this had never been one of them. Of its many tasks and duties, the pet was certain that it was able to pleasure its masters. And despite its fear, it was certain it could do the same for Master now. This was its chance to prove itself, make a good first impression, show Master that it was more than its inability to hear his commands.
All that remained was to slowly, carefully, turn its head to the side, look up at Master and push its lower lip out ever so slightly- And as soon as its eyes met Master’s, Master shouted with a roar of what the pet knew was fury.
A/N: And in this chapter, we spend 8,000 words to eat a sandwich, make a phone call, and take a shower. I wonder what happens next!
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Ohhhhh so THATS what they changedddd- (ugh it's bad but good...)
Yeah totally agree with you on the "THERE'S A FUCKING APOCALYPSE BRO I DON'T THINK ME KISSING A GIRL WILL MAKE THINGS WORSE-!"
But I understand how Alek probably wants to write Anna off as (Definitely needs more bc it's shit-)
The idea that "it's wrong" isn't really a religious thing as much as you would expect. I say this as someone who didn't really do the "go to church every sunday" or "pray every night" type of thing but I DID have the typical religious household in a Mexican family. I didn't get told "you'll go yo hell" or "God doesn't love you bc your a child of satan-"
No thankfully none of that. But did get indirect signals.
An eyeroll, a groan, a simple comment, or a disgusted expression is ENOUGH for not only internalized homophobia to be developed but fear of acceptance
Which is what I think Anna is going through. It is the stage of acceptance. In which one not only accepts one's self but the fact that there will be people against you for the sole fact of BEING gay. And that THAT won't stop you from being your gay self (is it badly written and makes me want to cry with how bad it is sometimes? Yes but that's another thing-)
Anna isn't in a religious household or constantly being told "being gay is a bad so....no [smack]"
...But she kinda is. Bc that's probably what's going through her head at the slightest interaction with Lane. I can FEEL her internal anxiety and rage at not only Lane but in herself because "friends don't....FEEL things for friends"
"Your mind is not only your permanent home but also your most present one." - Uselessgay 2025 :))
Also we all know Anna treasures Dimitri above almost everything right? She wants his approval and praise and it stems from her want and need for approval from her own FATHER
And from what I've read it's not likely Dimitri is too fond of the idea that his sister is 💅💅💅
From a nasty disgusted look to acting cold and uncaring to her when she need reassurance
That to someone who constantly seeks the approval from those she loves is soul crushing. it's not a simple pain in your chest but something that sticks to you like unactivated slime! It's something you keeps it's claws in a death grip when hugging you and that u remember unconsciously
Now pair that with one's unintentional internalized homophobia and it's enough to not only be cruel to yourself but to whoever one likes in a gay way
The kiss scene in my mind was perfect. (As perfect as bad writing can get but...it's not BAAAD! (She could use a little more experience in writing such scenes))
The kiss and the scene leading up to it wasn't soft nor loving. It's was angry and desperate.
You're allowed to disagree bc I know what I'm saying is infuriating to ppl who just want Anna to stop being so...[wild gestures]
But it's real. It's fucking infuriating that only wlw have to deal with this shit when the straights are off smooching and having sex in the first 💎 diamond 💎 scene
But It's really is only something that straight people could never understand. I know it's hard to live in a time where wlw players are more accepted than ever but still [gestures wildly again]
Anna's route.....isn't BAD nor is it GOOD but it is real in the sense that it give the real experience OF being gay in an otherwise unaccepting environment
Again it's stupid and heartbreaking that's its ONLY wlw but wlw is not straight and it never will be (please don't take that as an insult! I mean that in a "agree to disagree" way and a "appreciate being you" type-pa way)
--- And omg this is so long- sorry I just want everyone to know I'm not COMPLETELY crazy in justifying the route.. I see the good in the bad and willing to ask questions...I'm not being mean I swear- :')
I haven’t caught up to Anna’s route yet on my slot but lowkey what was that…
Apparently there’s variations depending on VoG or WoD/ compassion/no compassion etc and I’ve seen ss for one path only so far.
I just don’t get why Anna, who has so far been presented as being averse to looking at women romantically say something like this ? It feels ooc almost idk. You could argue that she’s opening up slowly, and is still in denial over her feelings and/or sexuality and this was a way to open that avenue but it doesn’t feel right to me idk why.
using the word ‘recoiled’ and then saying she wanted to ‘wash herself’ is genuinely crazy bye. look, I would also recoil if someone kissed me outta nowhere (doubly so if I was struggling with my sexuality) but ‘wash herself off’ IS SO INSANE???? as if it’s a dirty act. and before anyone says anything, I know there are people have repressed desires; they can’t come to terms with themselves being attracted to the same gender and they could potentially feel that way. but oh my god, there has been no nuance in the way this has been handled. no deep religious trauma that could’ve molded her this way, nothing that could even potentially explain why Anna would see same sex relationships and attraction the way she does. (someone correct me if I’m wrong pls it’s been ages since I played my Anna route)
Lada and Tata’s budding relationship has been handled so much better. There’s questions from both and you can see they’re both new to this; Lada even questions herself if ‘it’s okay’ to feel that way but it makes her feel happy so she does what her heart tells her to. What kinda reasoning is it that an apocalypse can happen but heaven forbid u wanna kiss a girl
There were so many ways to write a kiss scene between them. Idk if I’m overthinking or if anyone else felt the same way
ITS SO WEIRD. this woman hates lesbians and bisexual players bruh i cannot.
(also hearing that fucking Boris appears today in a vision made me crash the fuck out)
#heavens secret: requiem#rc hsr#rc anna#rc cain#romance club spoilers#romance club update#romance club#lgbtq#gay awakening
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Can you do an Isekaid child reader who's a cat Mobius with platonic yandere sonic, Amy and tails? 🥹👉👈 I was reading holorform2009's post, it was so damn delicious. And I loved the fact that Isekaid reader is based on scraps from dandy world. And I also liked your writings too!
A/n: holorform is a great mutual
Yandere Sonic, Amy & Tails x Isekai’d Child Reader
Platonic
Your first memory here is... static. Trying to remember it was the same as trying to gather sand in your hands, it just slipped past you. One moment, you were somewhere else, a place of light and strange voices. Then, nothing.
Now, you're here. In a world of blue skies and rolling hills, staring up at a trio of strangers who look at you like you hung the stars in the sky.
"Whoa, little buddy, you okay?" The blue one, Sonic, crouches in front of you, ears twitching forward trying to hear you better. His voice is casual, but hes careful in the way he speaks, like he's trying not to spook you.
Amy, the pink one, is already kneeling beside you, gloved hands hovering like she wants to scoop you up. "They look so lost, Sonic! Poor kid... Where did you come from?"
You tell them your name, one of the onky things you *can* remember, everything else a blur.
"Thats fine Y/N, we'll help you get back to wherever you cane from in no time!"
Tails observes you, he seems to have some sort of device in his hands he keeps looking back at hefore squinting his eyes at you again. "huh, it seems like there was some big burst of energy from where they are!"
Sonic looked back at you reachibg out a hand for you to take"Don't worry, we'll help you figure this out," he declares, as here l helps you up.
Amy beams at you, her enthusiasm palpable.
"You're safe with us now! We'll take care of you," she promises, her voice gentle.
Tails nods in agreement, already brainstorming solutions. "We should head back to my workshop. I have equipment there that might help us understand your situation better."
They guided you through the hills and stretching scenery until they made it to his workshop.
At the workshop, he ran various test, his fascination with your form evident. Sonic and Amy hover nearby, their protective gazes never leaving you.
"You're truly unique," Tails remarks, his eyes gleaming with a mix of admiration and something else you can't quite place.
Days turn into weeks as you adjust to life in this new world. Sonic, Amy, and Tails rarely leave your side, their devotion unwavering. They shower you with attention, always eager to assist you, but their overprotectiveness becomes stifling.
One evening, as you sit by a tranquil lake, Sonic approaches, his usual carefree demeanor replaced with a somber expression.
"Hey, I know this is all new for you," he begins, sitting beside you. "But we care about you, a lot. We just want to keep you safe."
Before you can respond, Amy appears, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"You're like family to us now," she cradled your face. "Please, don't ever think of leaving."
"Seriously." Tails stated, his voice firm.
Their words weigh heavily on you. While their affection is genuine, there's an underlying possessiveness that makes you uneasy. Their love had good intentions, but it was becoming obsessive.
As days pass, their behavior becomes more controlling. They insist on knowing your every move, discouraging you from interacting with others. The once warm and welcoming environment now feels like a gilded cage.
One night, the moon shone overhead, full And bright. You decided eniygh was enough. You need to reclaim your freedom, to find a way back to your world. But escaping their watchful eyes woudn't be easy.
Gathering your resolve, you waited for the right moment, a moment when no one was watching, a moment where they weren't practically smothering you with worry.
But the moment you try to leave, the moment you so much as hint at being anywhere but here.
One of them is already in front of you. Blocking your path.
"Whoa there. Where d'ya think you're goin'?"
…You're not sure.
But wherever it is, you get the feeling they won't let you reach it.
#sonic the hedgehog#sonic#sonic the hedgehog x reader#sonic x reader#yandere sonic the hedgehog#yandere amy rose x reader#yandere amy#yandere sonic the hedgehog x reader#yandere tails#yandere tails the fox
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Cinder the FallCel
Jaune: Okay, but like, what if Cinder was a femcel?
Ruby: Jaune, Cinder IS a femcel! What do you mean?!
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Cinder: I'm Cinder Fall and I'm rizzing, Ruby!
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Cinder: Ruby, I'm going to pick up a man at a bar~!
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Cinder: Ohio skibidi~!
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Cinder: Ruby! Have you seen the new episode of skibidi toilet~?
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Cinder: Ruby, they won't date me because I'm ugly... I was born ugly.
Cinder: Ruby, it's all part of a big patriarchal scheme.
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Cinder: Ruby... You're a cuck, Ruby!
Cinder: Ruby, I'm a cuck!
Cinder: Can't you see Jaune and Weiss are banging behind your back?
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Cinder: I was telling this man about skibidi toilet and he told me to go away...
Cinder: We have to kill him, Ruby!
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Cinder: THEY THINK FALL IS A EUPHAMISM FOR SOMETHING, RUBY!
Cinder: Ruby, you just don't understand because you're a beta cuck! Only I am the sigma female~!
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Cinder: Welcome to my gamer pad, Ruby. Here's where I get tilted at the towers...
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Cinder: You see, post-nut clarity is a myth, Ruby.
Cinder: There's no such thing as a prostate, Ruby! It's all a myth made up by Big Pharma!
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Cinder: Ruby, can't you see Salem is our savior?!
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Cinder: Don't you know that dust is full of testosterone? You need to stop using it; the government wants you to be more masculine!
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Cinder: Ruby, aura treatment make you do horrible things! They give you have autism, Ruby!
Cinder: Ruby, you have autism, Ruby!
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Cinder: The relics, Ruby! The relics make you more masculine, Ruby! They make you into a pig-headed misogynist, Ruby!
Cinder: Ruby, they're putting chemicals into the water to make the Faunus gay!
Cinder: Destroy the child, Ruby!
Cinder: Beacon never existed, Ruby! It was made up by woke media!
Cinder: Oh no, I'm being sued for 6 billion lien, Ruby! What did I do?!
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Cinder: You see, Ruby, it's already too late. I've already drawn myself as the Chad and you as the Soy Wojak!
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Cinder: RUBY! You see, I thought if I made myself buff, men would like me more, but it turns out, I'M A HUGE DICK!
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Cinder: RUBY! I SEE THE LIGHT NOW, RUBY! ALL WOMEN AND MEN ARE EQUAL! HOW WRONG I'VE BEEN!
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Ruby: Aw, man...
Jaune: Damn, this sucked.
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What’s your opinion on Lust Sans? How do you think the creator could have handled hypersexuality better? Because honestly I don’t think it was handled very well -as a hypersexual anon myself.
What’s your opinion on Lust Sans? How do you think the creator could have handled hypersexuality better? Because honestly I don’t think it was handled very well -as a hypersexual anon myself.
I can't really say much about hypersexuality as i have no experience with it, and it's been a while since I read the Underlust comic.
One thing I have to say, I don't think NSFWShamecave probably didn't intent to portray SPECIFICALLY hypersexuality? From my understanding at least it doesn't seem like it.
Despite the way monsters behave being similar to hypersexuality, I believe the creator was trying to portray something that they believed was fictional. (The lore reason being the fact that everyone's injected with an aphrodisiac.)
And that's where a lot of the issues come from.
I will have to say, it was a genuine attempt by someone to make something with serious lore out of an AU with origins that are hard to take seriously. I would blame it on age, but I'm just gonna go on a limb and say someone with the username NSFWShamecave was at least 18 back then.
Regardless, it's not a story that's easy to tell. Even with genuine intentions, their story- you can tell it wasn't made by someone who knows their stuff.
Additionally, it seems like a kind of AU where the creator thought 'designs first, lore after'.
Which isn't a bad thing on it's own! It's interesting to already have a point in the story that the characters are at and think "okay, how did they reach it". But the creator didn't execute it well.
There's also the 'love fixes everything' vibes I remember getting with Papyton with what happened to Mettaton.
The AU itself feels kinda puritan, with Frisk needing to show the monsters true love as if they've never had it before. It feels extremely reminiscent of the internet's culture at the time, especially the Undertale fandom. I remember being very active on Wattpad at the time, and I remember on there... It was treated jokingly, but we did call anything sexual 'sin' and shamed people for being into it (12 year olds like I was SHOULDN'T be into it, but still...)
Not to mention... Chara. Obviously the character who was the fandom's genocide scapegoat, who was seem as evil back then, is gonna be made weirdly lustful. Good thing they aged them up, I'm glad this creator didn't try to dive into child hypersexuality (while it does exist, someone with those views on sexuality would not have handled that very well, and they would have received more scrutiny), but giving them the soul trait of Lust? That was probably not the best way of explaining why everyone is horny.
In short:
The main issues are that the creator was portraying a real issue bad because they didn't know it was real, and that the creator wasn't all that experienced in writing stories (and designed most characters other than Mettaton and Frisk without a story for them in mind).
As for Lust Sans himself, I didn't really answer that question specifically very well, did I?
Firstly, he suffers from what most characters in the story do.
Additionally, as a Sans, I'm gonna have to think about him in the context of the multiverse.
His portrayal is what happens when an already not too well executed idea is brought towards a bunch of kids.
Of course there were older people in the fandom, but I say the majority of us were not the intended demographic for the AU.
And kids, especially in today's day and age, are notorious for wanting to seem mature and therefore portray stuff for adults, but at the end of the day, we weren't and we couldn't.
So Lust, in especially the early fandom's eyes, was reduced to "non-consensual flirt bordering on rapist".
-
I do have my own version of the AU, slightly altered. So far it's just lore from the AU itself instead of individual characters or story. I wasn't really planning on doing much with it, and I made it before voicing my own criticism, so it doesn't really address more than the Chara sexualization. Feel free to read it if you're curious though!
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It's me again haha, I loved your little fic about my prompt Logan comforting George in his own way, and your last one shot where George is angry at Jenson for kidnapping his son was hilarious, will Logan have a “strange AND JENSON danger, don't go off alone” talk? or Alex won't allow him? What if one day after a quali both Alex and George find Jenson holding Logan in the Williams garage recording something for the team's social media and they hear Jenson tell Logan "you will be a good driver for Williams"? Personally, I think George doesn't like to think about his baby driving a car at more than 200 km/h even though that is his job.
Hello again!!!! Sorry this took so long!!!!
George will have a talk with Logan since he gets worried when Logan just disappears and his brain always thinks the worst-case scenario. Does this stop Logan? No, because he is a child that can be easily bribed with chocolate. A kinder egg is all you need to get him to fit down and take promotional photos for you.
Most if not all parents are not exactly keen on their kid participating in a sport that could kill them. Especially George, who as GPDA president, is keenly aware of the amount of accidents and deaths in F1 history. However, I think he knows Logan is too young to understand any of it so he doesn't give it much weight now. Once Logan shows he's serious about karting and how much he wants to follow in his parent's footsteps, that would be a whole different conversation.
He would prefer if Logan went to a better team than Williams since they aren't as well-funded. He wouldn't mind if Logan raced for Mercedes or even Ferrari. No Red Bull or Aston Martin though.
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