#myth brain is gone
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icefire149 · 6 months ago
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#Ignore me#4 months is quickly coming up... 4 months since Alec died#Every moment of every day I'm at a loss for what to do#And how to behave#Keeping myself busy at work is nice. I have#To be forced to use my brain other ways and do things#But by the end of the day I'm so unbelievably exhausted#I'm just masking as a happy-okay person.#I spend the quiet time at work rotating this new reality#It's exhausting to pretend to be okay#But what else am I supposed to do?#It's not fair to the people around me to constantly be on the brink of crying.#To be sad and quiet and idk. I don't want their pity or sad looks#But sometimes I do just wanna scream#I don't always want to hear about their recent adventures#I want to curl up in a ball because my regrets are eating me from the inside out#I fucked up an important part of my life because I'm a coward and#I was juggling too many trashfires in my life to deal with the messy place#We left our friendship. I thought there was time. There should've been time.#A whole lifetime to figure it out. Make things worse. Make things better.#To be happy#And now he's dead and none of it matters#I'm supposed to live the rest of my life now#I don't know how to do that anymore#Nothing feels right or real#Every atom of my being keeps raging against the truth#He's gone#The sweet boy that would make me laugh... share my love of myth & language...#Carry me bridal style... kiss every inch of my face... kiss the palm of my hand#And then hold it to his chest to fall asleep....
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Silly Game Time: Mothman and the Jersey Devil are about to fight (because JD called Bigfoot a bitch, and--in case you weren't aware--Bigfoot is MM's boyfriend ... they've actually gotten pretty serious, it's kinda sweet). AND YOU'VE GOT $5 TO BET ON WHO'LL WIN! SO PLACE YOUR WAGER!
Ooo, this is a tough one! MM has the motivation to start and end the fight as well as humanoid arms and legs. JD however has horns and the body (and strength) of a horse. That doesn't mean that the bf BF won't make a tool for MM to use against JD to.
They both have equalish skills in flight (MM I believe would have a slight advantage on the count of having smaller and more streamlined bodymass) however JD would definitely have the advantage on the ground. JD would theoretically be a chunkier flier while MM is said to be fast and graceful, however if we're going to compare them to bats (JD) and owls (MM) then MM would essentially be a glass cannon. One kick, ramming, or bite from JD to MM's wings and MM would have to land as bird bones, even at MM's size, wouldn't be strong enough to survive a kick from a horse.
However, that's where the speed and energy usage comes into play. MM, being a creature similar to birds, would naturally have the metabolism that would allow from prolonged flight times at varying altitudes and speeds. JD (ignoring the whole demon magic thing) would have that disadvantage of having to use a lot of energy for sustained aerial combat with an opponent more faster and agile.
JD would have the best bet of getting in one good hit, but if MM also has a similar endocrine system then they would be able to produce adrenaline. Humans can lift tones of weight under the right circumstances (highly not suggested if you like your muscles attached to your bones but if you're in a situation like that then lift that car above your head like you're Travis Scott at a concert) but MM would have an even more exaggerated reaction to adrenaline.
With a creature built for flight I wouldn't doubt that MM is stronger than a human on principle alone. Also, I think I'm getting a bit to much into this and I have bias from writing Mothman so I'll go with Mothman winning 😁
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ultraviolenced888 · 4 months ago
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think simon riley, the ghost, the myth, the scary lieutenant recruits rush past and avoid eye contact with, now a whimpering mess beneath you.
not helpless, but trusting.
he knows you’d never do anything out of his comfort zone, you’d grown to know him like the back of your hand, and he couldn’t have been more grateful to just sit back and let his brain disconnect, rest for a second, and by the buzzing sound in his ears he know you’re doing a great job at it.
you roll your hips once more, your thighs burning and starting to ache, but he looks so pretty with his eyes rolled back that you can’t help but keep going.
his huge hands are steadily placed on your hips, helping you when he feels you stutter on top of him.
“close.” simon mutters, jaw clenching harder. he breathes through his nose as he opens his eyes to find his word falling on deaf ears, you head tilted back and your eyes shut closed, mouth ajar as silent moans leave your lips.
never the talker, simon squeezes your hips and you look down at him, teary eyed. he repeats himself and you nod.
your walls clench around him as he lets a guttural groan slip past his pale lips, and a soft moan follows. “simon-!”
he hums in response, buckling his hips upward and causing the wire in your stomach almost snap. he feels your walls flutter again, and lets you get off before letting go himself.
he’d love to tell you how pretty you sound when you reach your climax, his hand cups your jaw and squeezes your cheeks together to keep your mouth open, he wants to hear it all. you collapse on his chest and he thrusts a few times into you before groaning your name.
you grind your hips again against his and he hisses, biting his bottom lip to keep more noises flooding from his throat.
“up for one more?” you murmur, looking up at him, head resting on his chest as your hips slowly keep moving.
he grunts in response, far too gone to even think of an answer.
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lamb-teaa · 1 month ago
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` last of his kind, or not
` C.2 - first impression failed successfully
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—⁠ ` C.1 - dragons, flowers and what?
—⁠ tags: comedy/crack. romcom. Sylus x fem!reader. AU from Sylus's myth. canon divergence. obvious OOC. whipped and boy failure Sylus anyone? /hj.
—⁠ teaa's note: wasn't gonna write a continuation of this cuz I literally wrote it out on a whim but here we are lol thanks for reading!!
—⁠ and big thanks for the support!!: @crowleysthings @stxrrielle @sylusfluffymeow @sublimeinternetlady @clearlysworld @jinnmyc @mangooes @satansdaughter123 @alahamums @xxfaithlynxx @pirana10 @kyushii
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The audacity.
Was the first thought that crossed Sylus's mind when the strong slap of Datura flowers hit his face.
His eyes narrowed dangerously, a deep growl rumbling in his throat as a snarl threatened its way out-
But he halted when the sight of your bewildered gaze morphed into a fierce defying glare followed by a venomous scowl as you bare your sharp fangs at him-
Oh.
Oh damn.
Sylus might've just gone crazy because his heart just did a flip-flop for a second there.
He opened his mouth, his brain wracking between introducing himself or getting off of you, which the latter should've been the first he should do obviously but he was caught off guard when you suddenly swiped him right across his face.
Your smaller yet still sharp claws graze against his skin as you raise your legs, kicking him square in the stomach, sending him stumbling backwards onto the ground in a shocked daze.
His own clawed hand slowly reached up to hold his left cheek, feeling the small trickle of blood seeping down his skin, the wound wasn't that deep but it still stunned Sylus that you did that, his eyes drifted to you in a mixture of disbelief and awe.
First you slapped him with flowers, then the next second you scratched his face.
Oh the audacity indeed.
And for the love of all misery in the world- can his heart calm down a bit?!
"Why you-"
Before Sylus could even utter another word out, you had already spread your large wings out, instantly launching yourself into the sky and flying far away from Sylus as fast as possible.
"Hey- wait!"
Sylus's eyes widened in a panic as the female dragon took flight into the air, every fibre of his being immediately screaming at him to pursue you. The thought of not seeing you again made his heart drop in dread. Now that he knew you were real, not a figment of his imagination, someone who appeared dragon-like such as himself-
He found himself wanting you.
Although, he didn't understand what he actually wanted in you.
A friend? A companion? Someone similar to him to stay by his side in this godforsaken world?
Sylus doesn't have an answer to that, but maybe you might help him find said answer.
Sylus's wings unfurled behind him as he propelled himself off the ground at a ridiculously inhumane speed. His eyes never leaving your flying form despite your best efforts in hiding amongst the thick clouds in hopes of losing his sight.
"Wait! Come back! I'm not going to hurt you!" Sylus shouted, trying to keep up with your speed, the sound of desperation crept in his voice but you didn't slow down even just a bit.
If anything, you grew even more adamant in getting as far away from him, not even giving him a chance to talk and it made Sylus more restless but even more so determined.
He was used to being feared and rejected by humans for centuries, coming to terms with his solitude life and the unfortunate fate that befall him since his birth.
Pain, it's all he ever knew and had buried deep within him.
But seeing you, a fellow dragon, running away from him was another kind of pain he never knew would hurt this much.
Because it's one thing to be rejected by humans, but it's another to be feared by his own kind that had thought to be extinct long ago.
As the chase through the skies continued on what felt like an eternity, the view of the dark dense forest came into his sight. Sylus watched in frustration as you dove deeper inside the forest, using the concentrated surrounding area to your advantage as you maneuvered across the trees at lightning speed.
His muscles ache from exertion, his breath ragged as he pushed himself to his limits, calling out to you once more, over and over and yet you still continued to ignore him.
And Sylus was losing the strands of patience he had left.
A part of him wanted to be, let's say, civil to you but he's not courteous like those noble humans and you weren't giving him any choice either.
So desperate times call for desperate measures.
Black red mist materializes between his fingertips, as it shoots out towards your direction. You didn't have time to dodge the incoming mist when it had wrapped itself around your waist and wrists before tugging you backwards, a strong force pulling you back until you collided against Sylus's broad chest.
The uncontrollable impact sent both of you tumbling down between the spikes of trees, limbs and wings tangled together. Sylus had his arms secured tightly around you, his large wings engulfing your form so you'd take less damage from the fall at the expense of his own, before both of you crashed into the dense foliage ground.
Both of you coming to a stop after rolling down the grassy steep as branches and leaves whipped on both your faces and hairs until both lay still on the ground, with you sprawled on top of him in stunned disbelief.
Time stood frozen for a moment, only labored breaths could be heard in the quiet dark forest as you slowly lifted your head to look at Sylus, your eyes widened in panic and fear.
Sensing your trepidation, his mist subconsciously tightened around your figure and so were his arms around your waist. His chest heaving with exhaustion as his bright red eyes locked with you that shone with intense desperation.
"Please." He whispered hoarsely, his tone held foreign softness in them that even surprised Sylus himself as he struggled to catch his breath from the long chase. "I mean you no harm."
"No harm?!" You hissed at him, your eyes burning with hostility as you struggled within the binding of his black red mist. "You attacked me!"
"When did I- oh." Sylus grimaced, his mind rewinding to the events back at the flower field. As much as he wanted to explain that it wasn't an attack but then he stopped himself, because yeah, getting lunged in the middle of a nowhere field while you were minding your own business did seem like one.
So the distrust was, frankly speaking, warranted.
"I.. never meant for that." His hold on you loosened a bit, his once brash confidence faltering under your scrutinizing glare, "I just.."
"Just what?!"
I thought I was hallucinating you so I wanted to make sure you were real.
Yeah, no. Even enduring longtime solitude Sylus knows that would be the worst thing to say to someone whose immediate impression of himself is a possible threat at first met.
Sylus hesitated as he lowered his hands, the black red mist slowly dissipating into thin air as it released you from his hold. He watched silently as you carefully leaned back from him, creating some space between you two, your puzzled and guarded expression etched on your face and Sylus could only hope you won't run off again, and hoping to prove to you and reassure you that he wasn't going to hurt you.
But he was caught off guard yet again when this time, you lunged forward towards him and pinned him on the ground, straddling his stomach as both your clawed hands gripped his throat that made his breath hitch in both surprise and, dare he say, strangely exciting.
"Speak your intentions!" You growled, your grip around his throat tightened, making it clear to him that you were dead serious. "Or I'll kill you!"
Well damn.
You had just threatened him and yet Sylus couldn't help but crack a small smirk at that. It was amusing, endearing even as Sylus let out a low chuckle.
What an interesting turnout of events.
"Your name.." Sylus breathed out in awe, his hand reaching up to brush a lock of hair behind your hair as he relished the sight of your adorably confused yet stunned expression.
"I want to know your name."
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—⁠ teaa's extra notes: aaaand that's a wrap! idk how to continue from here on out (lie i do actually just haven't flesh it out properly am sorry) so might take a while before I pick this back up again. Multifics aren't my strongest point tbh but hopefully my upcoming short scenarios will suffice! again, thank you for reading (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)♡
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 5 months ago
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could you do a pregnant reader x rafe
a/n: okay but that got my brain buzzing, so i simply had to get all the thoughts out in the form of headcannons (written right before i fell asleep, sorry if it shows)
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist
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okay, so picture this: he's the asshole frat boy, you're the cute college chick who unlike him is actually there for the education.
also, he's your ex...
you were only together for a few months, but still, that shit was intense, the relationship nearly broke you from all of the high highs and low lows
it was exhausting being in love with an asshole, hence why you're no longer together
he was totally the type of toxic boyfriend to only wanna fuck you without a condom, either by pressuring you or just straight up lying and then rolling the rubber right off either as soon as he got you into doggystyle or like halfway through when you were too cockdrunk to notice the difference.
so that might have been why a month or so after the two of you broke up, you were late...
i'm picturing that you finally took a test at the most chaotic moment: at the beginning of a party in a bathroom, your roommate doing a quick run to a pharmacy while drunk folks try to barge down the door.
when your roomie comes back, you're totally freaking out, full-on melt-down, while she sits on the counter beside the sink and tries to calm you down, thinking up other solutions to your symptoms.
but the damn stick shows you two lines.
you were pregnant.
"so are you gonna tell him?" your roomie asks you, but you're still on a completely different planet, trying to comprehend the result.
"huh?"
"rafe. are you gonna tell him? i mean, i assume that it's him, unless there's somebody else, in which, how dare you not spill."
"what? no, there's no one else. of course it's rafe's..."
"...so? are you gonna tell him?"
but you have no idea if you want to or even should. you don't even have the slightest idea what you might wanna do about it all, if you should keep the baby or not.
but timing really is a funny funny thing, because when you then decide to go home to process everything (because damn, now you can't stay at the party and celebrate the close call), you bump into none other then the man, the myth, the whore himself: rafe fucking cameron.
now, you're straight up crying at this point, just overwhelmed as fuck, so of course he doesn't let you just slip by without figuring out what in the fuck is going on, if there is some douchebag he needs to go beat up.
"there only douchebag you need to beat up is yourself," you spit out before you can stop the phrase.
"oh, come on, baby. you can't still be mad at me? it's been like a month."
"please, rafe... just let me go home..."
"no, not until you tell me what's wrong!"
and when you actually say it out loud, it's like the awful party music fades and the buzzing crowd around you disappears.
"i'm pregnant."
at first, he just stands there stunned, staring straight through you.
if he's holding a glass, then he definitely drops and smashes it on the ground.
but then he grabs your arm and wordlessly drags you with him, all the way up to his room.
that's when, in the dull quiet of his dark dorm room, that it really sinks in.
for a while he just stares at you, letting his eyes scan down your frame, surely imagining what you'd look like in a few months.
and then, out of the blue, he whispers, "marry me..."
"...what?"
"marry me," he utters with more confidence, "i know this isn't exactly how it should go, but babe... i still love you. i never stopped... let me take care of you, let me take care of our baby, let me give you the life we deserve. so what do you say? will you marry me?"
but you just stare back at him as if he's gone mad.
"...no."
your stomach starts to flip as you then see the first signs of rage flare up on his features, "what do you mean no?"
"rafe, i'm supposed to be finishing up my degree, being young and dumb, not getting knocked up by the last man i'd ever want to be forever stuck with."
of course he then totally pops off, pushes you into a corner, yelling, screaming, all the nine yards
saying all this stuff about how you should be grateful that he ever gave you his time of day in the first place, nevertheless get you pregnant with his kid.
sooo, me thinks the next steps in their story gets pretty dark, pretty fast....
we talking him taking you with him home to tannyhill because school is simply too stressful for you and the baby (in his opinion)
mayhaps he straight up locks you in a room and acts all nice, pretends that nothing is wrong with the way he handles it all
forced marriage? yes? no? yes.
him getting fucking FERAL when you start to show?
also him getting feral long before that, taking the chance to make sure you're really, totally, 100% pregnant, if you know what i mean (in other words: all of the creampies ever, just over and over again, fucking load after load deep inside of you + so so much cumplay)
and the ending? i imagine that one day, after your kid is born, you run away, baby in your arms and not much else.
you try and create a quiet little life for you and your child somewhere far away
but eventually (of course, just for the sake of ✨drama✨) he finds you...
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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sweetiecutie · 2 years ago
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hello!!! I was wondering if you could write a part 2 for dilf!konig? I didn't think I would be into it, but I read it and... it's awakened something in me. i need more dilf!konig
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thank you!!!!!!!
A/n: so you, my lovely little sluts, seem to really like my smutty silly headcanons. But don’t worry babies, I have some more to satiate your hunger😌
Part 1 here
Dilf! König headcanons pt 2
Warnings: NSFW, mdni, smut, fem! reader, age-gap implied, unprotected sex, cheating (I know, I’m sorry🙄), nasty nastiness
Dilf! König, whom you reach out the next day with a cute “hi, it’s me Y/n<3” text, and a few hours later end up in his hotel room, pressed onto plush mattress of his king sized bed as König bullied his throbbing cock into your poor drooly pussy, meaty thighs hitting your ass with loud smacking sounds that, along with your shameless moans and whimpers, bounced off the tall walls, causing hotel staff to knock onto room’s door, asking as politely as possible to be more quiet in order not to disturb other hotel guests (*cough* the whole fucking floor *cough*).
Dilf! König, who, while still at your place, takes his godchild and you to the aquapark under the guise of “spending some quality time with younglings while he can”. You can’t stop sneaking glances at his massive chiseled body, decorated with numerous battle scars, laughing nervously as your best friend asks if everything is okay, since you’ve been zoning out too much lately.
Dilf! König, who riles you you absolutely stupid in the privacy of a small cafeteria bathroom as his godchild aka your best friend is way too occupied trying out all of these crazy slides to actually pay any attention to the two of you. He cums so much inside of your puffy cunny, sliding your thong back in place and murmuring “want you to carry a piece of me wherever you go” sweetly into your ear, smacking your ass playfully as you leave on trembling legs, exiting himself a few moments later as to rise no suspicions.
Dilf! König, who smirks ever so slightly when he sees some young dudes approximately your age unsuccessfully trying to hit on you, failing miserably to gain even a second of your blissful attention. He notices how you rub your thighs together ever so slightly, and if he watches closely enough, König may even see a little dark spot on your bottoms - his pearly cum oozing out of your fucked-out pussy, staining bright fabric of your sexy swimsuit.
Dilf! König, who buys you tickets to Vienna in first class and pays for your luxurious hotel room, just so you can meet again. He greets you with a huge bouquet of tulips (bc roses are plain as fuck, duh🙄) at the airport, giving you a warm hug and asking how your journey was, driving to his favorite restaurant to feed you some traditional Austrian food. He shows you around all the significant places of Vienna, giving you a little excursion, telling your all the stories and myths behind certain places.
Dilf! König, who that night has you splayed out onto huge queen-sized bed of your hotel room, eating your pretty pussy out like a man starved, sucking on your needy puffy clit and fucking your tight hole with three thick fingers while desperately rutting his hips into soft mattress, trying to get at least some type of friction against his achingly hard dick.
Dilf! König who soon has you begging for his heavy cock inside of your pussy, fucking your brains out until you’re a babbling silly mess writhing on white sheets, nothing more than a boneless puddle in his skilled hands. And he is more than happy to comply with all your little whims.
Dilf! König, who actually has a wife with whom he has been married for over ten years. The spark between them long gone, it’s more like two acquaintances living together rather than a married couple - continuing sharing one house and one bed more out of a habit - simply because both are used to that, not bothered enough to move out. Both König and his wife are perfectly aware of each other’s flings on the side, but still not caring enough to actually do something about it. All hopes of saving their marriage are long gone and forgotten, none of two having any wish to actually deal with their spouse.
Dilf! König who takes special interest in you. You, pretty little thing, so youthful and full or energy, so hopelessly romantic with heart so full of love that König almost drowns in it. You are the sparkle he so lacks in his grey taunted life, you’re the positive adrenaline he craves so much. You give him butterflies flaring in his guts and electric shocks running down his spine whenever König’s lips meet yours in a searing kiss - and he quickly became addicted to that feeling, not planning on letting go of you anytime soon.
Dilf! König who basically becomes your sugar daddy. He loves spoiling his precious baby, lavishing you with designer clothes and fancy jewelry, taking you to vacations all around the world whenever he has time free from work. He makes a lot of money as a colonel - so much that he doesn’t know what to do with it. So why not spurge on his favorite girl? And what König likes even more is to rip these unbelievably expensive togs off, revealing your sexy body; to see all these sparkly jewels jiggle and kling softly as he pounds you with his thick cock, watching your face contort in pleasure so strong it almost hurts, but you’re way too greedy to stop him, only begging for more.
Dilf! König, who has absolutely no idea how this all is going to end up like. Numerous scenarios and possibilities playing in his head nonstop - finally divorcing his wife and marrying you instead. You getting over him and moving on with your own life, leaving König and everything related to him behind. Him getting killed on one of the missions, and you not having a single clue as to why he so suddenly disappeared. These and many others - but one thing König is absolutely fucking sure of is that he will never get bored of you. And no matter what happens, he’ll never turn you, his little angel, down. You’re his favorite precious girl, after all<3
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give us writers some love!<3
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damfangirl08 · 6 months ago
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In my brain, this is how old everyone in the chain is:
Time: physically about 30 but he has lived anywhere between 50 and 500 years, nobody knows, not even him. Usually just answers with "ask malon" if questioned.
Warriors: 26, says 24 if someone asks, because he genuinly keeps forgetting
Sky: actually 24, but answers in loftwing years just to be a menace when someone asks
Twillight: 20, sometimes messes up and says how old he is in wolf years because Midna used to tease him by doing that and he is an angsty boy.
Four: 19. If you ask any more questions you get stabbed.
Wild: 17. Says 117 if asked. Does not elaborate. He told Aurora why once and now Aurora does the same thing. Hyrule is going insane and Twilight has gone insane ages ago
Hyrule: 16. He thinks. Hes not actually sure but that is what his Zeldas said so thats what hes going with(i forgot to write him in im so sorry my boy)
Legend: 14/15. If asked he says 19. He pretends to be an adult and people somehow belive him. At this point he is just praying the rest of the chain never meet Fable, Myth or Ballad
Wind: 14/15 too. Answers with his actual age like a normal person wtf is wrong with you people
Bonus:
Myth and Ballad(troforce heroes) are both 17. They bully Legend a lot.
Fable is Legend's twin and also bullies him a lot.
The rest of the Zeldas are the same age as their Links, but if you meet Tetra you will know she is 2 months older than Wind.
When asked how old Time is, Malon will say he is "as old as time". She finds this funny. So does Time. The only other person to find it funny is Hyrule.
If you ask Ravio how old Legend is, he will, no matter the circumstance, say he is 13. Legend has to be restrained to avoid any casualties.
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astracora · 1 month ago
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The Morning After
Characters: Sylus x gn!mc
Warnings: Some hurt/comfort, semi-canon compliant heart condition, spoilers for current story release (Sylus Limited Myth mentioned).
Word Count: 1259
Written: 27th December 2024
Notes: Pre-relationship Sylus/MC, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory (Cat Curse MC). I take some liberties with what the game offers me.
Masterlist AO3
You’re pleasantly sore. A dull ache, soothed by oils and warm hands the night before. You’re not sure what you expected from sleeping with Sylus… it shouldn’t surprise you that he was gentle with you afterwards. Easing your aches, cleaning you up, feeding you. He had never made you feel like anything less than a treasure after that first meeting.
The need to sleep though, is strong. As good care as he took, Sylus Qin is a greedy man. As gentle as he is starving, treating you like an oasis in a desert. It’s both a terrifying feeling and an incredibly thrilling one.
His sheets are warm, but as you reach you hand out, he is not there to greet you.
Blood runs cold, broken heart stutters.
He’s gone.
Of course he’s gone.
Why wouldn’t he be gone.
He’s a fickle cat, as easily bored as he is amused. Short bursts of sharp emotions, that fade as quickly as they come.
Your sleepy pleasure drifts away from you, lost in a haze of self contempt. It is the downfall of extreme emotions, to be riding on a cloud in joy, and then crashing down to earth in sorrow. Hard enough to balance, without the added haze of pleasure addled brain. Still tingling from every touch, every kiss, every bite, every moan.
Hand pressed against your face, you roll onto your stomach, trying to force the feeling of inadequacy away.
You feel yourself on the verge of tears, irritated and hurting, but angry with yourself for feeling. For letting yourself feel like this.
Stupid.
Stupid.
Stup-
Fingers in your hair, tracing over the back of your neck, you jolt. Startled, fraying. Red rimmed eyes, and a sniffling nose to see Sylus sitting on the side of the bed. Coffee in hand, though he hates it. His eyes widen, blinking at your expression, before he places the coffee on the side table. Leaning down to look closer at you, hand on your face, holding you. “Kitten? What happened?”
You don’t know what to say.
I thought you had left me.
I thought you were disappointed.
I thought you realised I was too much work.
“You weren’t here.” You choke out, your hand pressing against his, holding it there. You want it permanently etched into your body. His hand prints on every part of you. His mark in your soul. You want him to be part of you more than you’ve ever wanted anything.
You hate yourself for wanting so much.
You watch as his red eyes burn, before he leans down, pressing his lips to your forehead, inhaling against your hair. He thumb continues to stroke your cheek and he speaks against your skin, “I have no plans to go anywhere without you, beloved.”
Your weak heart jumps, dances, skitters. It is hard not to. He is nothing if not good with words.
For a moment you stare at him, as he stares back. His eyes mapping out your features, sparkling gems glittering in his eyes. You wonder if you look closer could you really see his soul there. Eventually his staring is too much, and you pull the sheet up, though he stops you, head titled.
You almost laugh. He does resemble a dog sometimes… or perhaps more of a wolf. Something as wild as it is capable of domestic life.
“You’re staring.”
“Am I not allowed to stare?”
You tremble inside, and glance away, “I’m not used to it.”
“Am I the only one whose stared at you, kitten? I find that hard to believe.”
He does look doubtful, but you don’t really know how to answer him. It’s not the stare, it’s the things you can see in his eyes. The warm heat, the twinkling joy, the way he looks like every man in love, in every movie you’ve ever watched. Cynical though you are, thinking such a thing doesn’t exist.
Yet he stands before you, with that look. So much more alive than anything you could ever imagine.
You feel like crying again, but its not a bad feeling. This one feels freeing, warm. Like kisses on your cheek, and mumbled promises of adoration into skin.
“I think I’d be too much work for most.”
He laughs, “You are. Very difficult.” Now he lies down, on his side, staring at you, smirk showing his canines. Looking for all the world like a creature that can drag you to hell. Beautiful red eyes, snowy hair, a sculpted face you think any artist would weep at. He looks like he belongs in a world removed from yours.
Sylus takes your hand, rubbing his thumb over it, and places it against his lips, bites on the inside of your wrist, then kisses it. Eyes closing for a moment, freeing you from their grasp, as he exhales. Like you are air he needs to breathe.
“I enjoy the work though, kitten. I always will.” His eyes open, and grab you again, imprisoning you. Keeping you here, with him, “And you know I will never back down when I’ve decided something.”
Unfaltering. Unkillable. Unstoppable. You think of the words the twins use for their boss. If there is a single vision of Sylus it is a man who will stop at nothing to achieve what he wants. With violence, with money, with skill…
With heat and passion and pleasure.
You enter his arms willingly, if loving this man is a sin, you think you joined him as a fiend a long time ago. Before you even noticed it was happening. Sleep greets you once again, comforted at his presence, and relieved by him.
Perhaps that broken heart can beat a little longer for him.
———
He watches you fade into your dreams, and while he wants to join you, for a moment he just wants to be here. Real, and warm, and flesh and blood. You are in his arms, you let him touch you. He is surprised how much he still yearns for, like he has not scratched the surface of many years of need.
Of waiting, and hoping, and searching.
Of running up against the prison of fate, demanding he bow to its whims.
He cannot force the world to bring you to him, so he has to find you.
You think he can stop loving you, or find you too much. You fear he will wake up and regret it.
Sylus wishes you could see into his heart, and his soul. He wishes you could feel it thrumming inside of you, everyday, because you are the life of him. You are what gives him cause, him reason. You are a part of him, in all the ways that matter.
He hears you in his chest, he feels you in his bones.
He has chased you through worlds, and he will never stop.
There is a siren’s song in your very blood, and he will always listen to it.
You are all that he wants, and there is no time where that is no longer true.
Be he dragon, or man, he feels greed so fierce and powerful he knows it will never dim. No matter how long he gets with you.
As long as you extend your hand, as long as you smile, as long as you find pleasure with him, touch him, need him, want him… he will always be there, and always need and want and hunger for you.
There truly is no amount of work you can offer him, that does not thrill his soul to do.
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kalpeavaris · 1 month ago
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Caine - The Game Master, Archangel Glycon
The man, the myth, the legend, the AI is here! Locked in through my migraine yesterday because I had nothing else to do but sit in silence and darkness and try to distract myself (thank god for Triptan /hj)
Caine's essentially full-filling a similar role to OG Caine in the Archangel AU, he's the "ringmaster" (or game master for the AU) and is in charge of constructing a random puzzle every day for the humans to solve.
Despite being way less free than he appears to be in TADC (until now) and fairly void of emotion or emotional connection to any of the human avatars there is a certain... mystery surrounding him.
A little excerpt from the story I've written so far containing him below *eyes* >:]]
Dressed in red, the blood clinged and hugged her body like a cloak made from viscous liquid, dripping down in seeming stop-motion, droplets taking their sweet time. Almost as sweet as the smell, gone was the metallic and iron nature that usually went hand in hand with blood.
Caine watched her, a faint tilt to his ‘head’, the eye observing without blinking just once in all of these hours passing, trying to figure out this enigma of a human’s mind. Seemingly doing nothing at all, his own program and coding were running to the point of overheating the system. Fans whirring and coming to life, almost like the AI itself, its intentions unclear to the watching user.
Yet, there was no one there to see the show happening. The wooden chair in front of the desk was abandoned in search of human need, food, drink, whatever necessary to keep him afloat for his mission. 
Caine had realized this window of opportunity quite easily - and he was keen on using it, abusing even. Who else would there be to stop him but his own decision making? 
Again, his attention drifted back to the figure in front of him, the blood now disappearing like vapor over a heat source, indicating that it had worked - to a certain degree. Something was missing, something essential.
He had never coded a personality before. Humans were quite complex in their making, did they even have something akin to code to hold their souls, their beings? 
Caine knew that their biology and brains were easy to recreate, even though he had barely interacted with them outside of watching their almost fruitless attempts at solving the puzzles. This one however… he felt a strange, distant sense of connection to her. She had tried to break out from the ordeal, though it had been a freak accident. 
Leaving the constraints of the building, leading to her death, unavoidable. He had tried and failed numerous times by now. To Caine, these failures were merely setbacks. Nothing to shed a tear over like humans would say, for he had no emotion outside of curiosity to satisfy.
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dpspcehntr · 2 months ago
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Hello 🤗 I have a question that has crossed my mind from time to time and I would like your (and maybe your followers) opinion on this, if you don't mind.
Thinking realistically, rather than with a romantic notion, do you think the LaDs men have had much, if any, sexual experience that hasn't been with MC?
Would God of the Tides have concubines brought to him, or gone on dates as a land lubber? Or do you think his bond with MC would prevent him from 'engaging' with anyone else?
Did Xavier date anyone before MC joined the guardians (I don't know the name I forget lol)?
I don't know anything about Sylus
Would Zayne have had a prom date or a girlfriend before he met with the current timeline MC? I know he says we are his only experience, but does that include just kissing someone?
I’M SO GLAD YOU ASKED!! One, I have also been rotating this around in my brain for quite some time and how I feel very lightly colors how I write for them! I haven't read much (if any at all) of the myths so I will just be looking at the present. I love thinking about this cause tbh sometimes the characterizations in game are not as full as I would like. I won’t keep this long but if you want more detail I’m happy to add to this post! Anyway! Here are my thoughts!
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Rafayel is literally the reason I had this thought in the first place. I thought it was so silly to think that he as a rich artsy boy had never ONCE hooked up with someone. He absolutely is a FUCKBOY! I will hear nothing else about it. I can't image he's not when so much of his overall characterization just oozes that kind of energy for me. My exception to this is that I don't think he enjoyed himself very much. Used sex kind of like a numbing thing cause he felt the void of your absence hard. He's not like a community dick kind of fuckboy but he has definitely been passed around a few times, if not as a professional then in art school.
Xavier is another one who I feel has some experience before (re)meeting MC. His experience is alot more clumsy and unsure compared to Rafayel. More of a situation like 'I want to be ready when I find her so I'm going to try it with someone else to be good at it. There may only be one person he's had sex with before MC and it was so bad she just had to leave. When that failed he just turned to erotica and p*rn to fill in the gaps. Eventually getting used to using his own imagination and getting off when needed. So when the time comes he's very prepared and VERY horny.
Sylus is a bit of a hard one because yes absolutely he is having sex with people before meeting MC. His overall vibe very much eludes to the fact that he has lived a life and I'm sure that is included. I don't think he's slinging it out to anyone who asks but he has been in some kind of relationship before. If anything we can say he is very comfortable having sex and has had sex before meeting MC. I have some more thoughts on this but I will keep it there for now!
Zayne from what I know has said that he isn't experienced and we are his first and I believe that. He very much gives full focus on the task at hand kind of man. Definitely not in high school but in med school I image him having a non serious fling with someone just to say he tried. They broke up soon after and he just never tried again until he and MC reconnected. That being said, he is a bit of a perv and has ALOT of pent up energy so once they start they literally don't stop. Like a weekend stuck in an endless loop of sleep, eat, fuck until he's at work desperate for you once again. The problem for him is learning how to control himself now that has MC.
My ask box is open for further conversations on this cause I genuinely love talking about this! Lets keep the conversation going!
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autisticadvocacy · 2 months ago
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The Autistic Self Advocacy Network urges the Senate not to confirm Robert F. Kennedy Jr. as Secretary of the Department of Health and Human Services. Kennedy’s long record of spreading misinformation about autism in particular and public health in general makes him a disastrous choice for this role. His opposition to life-saving vaccines, his belief that HIV may not cause AIDS, his desire to increase the use of quack autism “treatments” and his comments about putting people taking psychiatric medication in labor camps should all be immediately disqualifying. Autistic people, the disability community, and the nation’s public health will all suffer if he is confirmed. 
Vaccines save lives
Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is the founder of Children’s Health Defense, a prominent anti-vaccine group. He has claimed that no vaccine has been proven safe and effective, that the recommended vaccine schedule for children is dangerous, and that “autism does come from vaccines.”  He has also fought against COVID-19 vaccination, falsely calling an early COVID vaccine “the deadliest vaccine ever made.”
Vaccines are safe and effective. Vaccines do not cause autism. The idea that the measles, mumps and rubella (MMR) vaccine is linked to autism comes from one fraudulent 1998 publication claiming that the vaccine had caused autistic traits in 12 children. The man responsible for this publication, Andrew Wakefield, used unethical methods and failed to disclose financial conflicts of interest. The paper did not give enough evidence for its claim that the MMR vaccine could cause autism. It was later retracted by the journal that published it, and Wakefield had his medical license revoked.
In spite of the fraudulent origins of the idea that vaccines cause autism, and in spite of decades of replicable research proving that this is not true, some people, like Kennedy, continue to perpetuate the myth. These lies do very real harm to the autistic community. Kennedy has described autistic people in insulting ways meant to inspire fear, saying that “their brain is gone” and that the purported effects of vaccination are “a Holocaust.” By working to prevent childhood vaccination, he effectively communicates the message that living as an autistic person is a worse fate than dying of measles or pertussis. 
The anti-vaccine movement has led to a wave of fake “autism cures,” many of which have very real health risks. Kennedy recently promoted two of these fake cures when he accused the FDA of suppressing “hyperbaric therapies, chelating compounds.” Hyperbaric therapy, a treatment for decompression sickness in divers, has been promoted as a fake autism cure in spite of a complete lack of evidence and associated health risks. Chelation, a treatment for heavy metal poisoning, is another fake cure, and its off-label use for autism has been associated with at least one death. 
Robert F. Kennedy Jr. and his allies claim that autistic people did not exist in his youth and that “I have never in my life seen a man my age with full-blown autism.” The idea that autistic people of Kennedy’s age (70) do not exist is not true. Autistic people have always been here, but before widespread autism diagnosis, we either went undiagnosed, or received different diagnoses than would be used today — for example, the outdated diagnosis of “childhood schizophrenia” for autism, or diagnosing people who today would only have an autism diagnosis with intellectual disability. Autistic people in Kennedy’s generation were all too often institutionalized or incarcerated. Even if Kennedy is telling the truth about not seeing us, that does not mean we were not there. 
Of course, Kennedy’s lies about vaccines do not just hurt autistic people. Kennedy and his nonprofit played an active role in a recent measles outbreak in American Samoa, spreading vaccine misinformation until the vaccination rate dropped low enough that 5,700 people were infected with measles, and 83 people died. Kennedy has also made false claims about COVID-19 vaccine trials and about the Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System, blaming unrelated deaths on COVID vaccinations. Anti-vaccine misinformation like that promoted by Kennedy’s group has led to a reduced rate of childhood vaccinations in the United States since the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic.  
Lies about public health endanger everyone
Kennedy has taken other stances on public health, also based on misinformation, that disproportionately harm disabled people. He has opposed COVID-19 vaccination when people with intellectual and developmental disabilities (IDD) are at risk for worse outcomes if we get COVID. He wants to take fluoride out of drinking water, making everyone’s dental health worse, when people with IDD have worse dental health outcomes to begin with. He opposes the use of medication for ADHD in spite of research demonstrating that these medications are safe and can prevent deaths among people who take them. He has falsely linked antidepressants, which for many people are life-saving medication, to mass shootings. None of these beliefs are based on evidence, and all of them would make terrible public health policy. 
Kennedy’s fringe beliefs have led him to propose some truly disturbing disability policies. Notably, he has discussed sending people who struggle with addiction or take psychiatric medications to “wellness farms,” where they could labor for several years and would be forbidden to use cell phones. In the autism community, we have seen farms promoted as a housing solution before, and we recognize this idea for what it is: a proposal to institutionalize the 16% of Americans who take psychiatric medication and the 16% of Americans who struggle with substance use. 
Kennedy’s commitment to spreading misinformation about public health extends beyond developmental disability. He claims that drinking raw milk has health benefits at a time when bird flu is spreading and foodborne diseases like listeria are becoming more common. He has suggested that AIDS may not be caused by HIV, and has participated in transphobic fear-mongering by claiming that chemicals in drinking water may change children’s gender identity. Once again, there is no evidence for any of these beliefs. 
We should never take “a break” from public health
At an anti-vaccine conference last year, Kennedy said that if he became President, he would tell the National Institutes of Health, “Thank you for public service. We’re going to give infectious disease a break for about eight years.” Instead, he pledged to focus NIH’s efforts entirely on chronic disease like diabetes. Pivoting government research away from infectious diseases during the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic would have disastrous consequences. And Kennedy’s claim that he will focus on chronic disease is short-sighted — chronic disease is often caused or worsened by infectious diseases like COVID. Diseases don’t take a break from threatening our lives and health, and we shouldn’t take a break from trying to prevent and mitigate diseases.
The worst public health harms in US history have been inflicted on marginalized communities when our public health systems “took a break” from protecting us. In the same way, marginalized communities would bear the brunt of a decision to abandon HHS’ responsibility to study infectious diseases.
Robert F. Kennedy Jr. promotes policies that will actively harm the health of all Americans. He intends to twist the federal agencies in charge of our health into engines of misinformation. We are dismayed by his nomination not only as self-advocates and professionals in health policy, but also as human beings who want our government to safeguard our health and embrace science. The Senate must not confirm Kennedy as Secretary of HHS. 
The Autistic Self Advocacy Network seeks to advance the principles of the disability rights movement with regard to autism. ASAN believes that the goal of autism advocacy should be a world in which autistic people enjoy equal access, rights, and opportunities. We work to empower autistic people across the world to take control of our own lives and the future of our common community, and seek to organize the autistic community to ensure our voices are heard in the national conversation about us. Nothing About Us, Without Us!
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consciouscarrot · 4 months ago
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flufftober day 2 - “i’ve got you,” [ rhysand ]
rhysand (acotar) x fem!reader (i do not support sjm)
content warnings; angsty fluff, hurt/comfort, aftermath of night terrors from sexual assault related trauma (rhysand), non sexual nakedness and bathing
note; no actual sexual assault or those memories in this, just vague mentions. be gentle with yourselves <3 i liked this one a lot :)
kinktober/flufftober masterlist
—————
you were awoken by thrashing limbs, murmured pleas and heavy breathing. ever since under the mountain, this had become a routine for your lover- he never managed to go a night without waking up in a panic, plagued by memories and moments that could’ve been if amarantha still lived.
you rolled over towards him, assessing the situation before deciding it was safe to touch him. you’d learnt from previous experiences not to go straight to physical affection, as he was prone to forgetting where he was, and could sometimes get violent. rhysand still felt guilty about those times, but you continued to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault, and that you should’ve been more careful.
gently placing a hand on his shoulder, a neutral place that wouldn’t have any sexual connotations if he were to wake up, you applied light pressure, knowing that he responded to this the best.
you muttered loving praises, begging him to wake up. you couldn’t bear the thought of him having to relive it all, wishing that he had never gone to that wretched place in order to protect you all.
suddenly, he shot up in bed, crying out in terror. his arms flailed as he tried to gain his bearings, tears falling down his reddened cheeks. his wide eyes landed on you, chest heaving as he whimpered your name.
you crawled over to him, letting him pull you into the safety of his lap. he wrapped his arms around you tightly, as if holding onto you was the only thing that could keep him breathing. you gently guided his head to rest against the top of your chest, and he breathed in your scent, beginning to calm down.
you continued to whisper to him, hoping the distractions and praise would help him. you were still learning how to navigate these types of situations, where he was so scared and traumatised from memories you were yet to learn about. you would always be patient with him, and would never push him to tell you anything he wasn’t ready to talk about yet, and he was eternally grateful. he had been half worried that you’d be disgusted by him on his return, trauma twisting the logical part of his brain into something else. he knew now that you could never think of him like that, he had started to unravel all of the lies of betrayal that amarantha had fed him about you, myths of you moving on and forgetting about him, about him not being worthy of you.
having finished crying, breaths steadier and hands beginning to loosen their grip on your back, he pulled his face back, looking up to you before pressing your foreheads together. you slowly lifted up your hands, not wanting to startle him out of his newfound calm, and softly wiped away his tears, brushing his hair out of his damp face.
you waited for his next move, wanting everything to be on his terms, and when he pulled back again, faces close enough for your breaths to mix with each others, you knew that the two of you were in for a long night. his lids drooped, exhausted but too scared to be able to sleep again. he hesitantly pressed a kiss onto the tip of your nose, before moving down to your soft lips. he held the kiss for a while, not moving, just light pressure and having eachother close.
“bath?” you asked quietly against his lips, knowing how he felt about cleanliness and that the warm water would help soothe his tense muscles. he nodded into you, retightening his hold on you and carrying you through to the bathroom. he let you pamper him, running the bath and pouring in lavender bath soak, before grabbing towels for the two of you afterward.
you approached him when the bath was ready, placing your hands on the waistband of his boxers, watching his reactions and waiting for him to give you permission to take them off. he nodded again, understandably not up to speaking yet. he observed as you pulled them down his thighs, maintaining eye contact the entire time. you gently grasped his ankle, encouraging him to step out of the fabric. when you stood up, he nudged your (his) sleep shirt, and only when you muttered your approval did he return the favour.
you helped eachother into the bath, and he refused to stray far from you, nuzzling his nose into your neck and holding your body close to his. the two of you stayed that way for a while, just enjoying each others company before eventually moving on to washing one another. he moaned when you washed his hair, massaging the shampoo into his scalp for longer than necessary. usually he wanted to be the one to take care of you, but this time he just closed his eyes and leant into you. maybe that would be a silver lining to all of this, that he’d let you look after him more.
you scooped water out of the bath, cupping a hand over his eyes to protect them before carefully rinsing his dark hair. rhysand looked so content like this, that if you couldn’t still see the tear stains on his cheeks, you could never have guessed what had been going on an hour ago. you applied conditioner to his hair, detangling it with your fingers delicately, trying your best not to pull on a knot and disturb his peace, before rinsing that out too.
you took your time washing his body, stopping to check in with him occasionally and ask permission to continue. you rubbed at any sore muscles, cleansing away all the sweat and tears. you couldn’t help but stare at him, you loved him with everything that you were, and you were so thankful that you’d gotten him back. you hadn’t been coping very well in the last fifty years without him, relying mostly on mor or azriel to keep yourself together. it still didn’t feel real sometimes, him being home, and you refused to ever take another moment with him for granted.
feeling your staring, he unhurriedly peeled open his eyes, finding you on the verge of tears.
“i love you,” you whispered to him, voice thick with emotion, thumbing tenderly at his hairline. his brows rose slightly in the middle, focus flitting from one of your eyes to the other.
he lifted a hand out the water, cupping your cheek as you lean into his touch, his other giving a squeeze to your waist.
“i love you too, darling,” he rasped, voice still hoarse from crying. his thumb stroked over your face, slowly up towards your eyebrow, brushing over the corner of your eye, before moving back down, feeling the softness of your skin beneath him.
you bend forward, kissing his lips again, long presses of love and care. you wished that you could spend the rest of your lives like this, close and gentle, loving and content, but the water was starting to cool, rhysand being too tired to magic it warm again, and you could feel his fingertips pruning against your cheek. you kissed him once more, more of a smushing of your faces together rather than anything more, but it was all you needed, and all you could really muster up the energy to do.
eventually, you both managed to make your way back to bed, slipping under the covers and intertwining your bodies together, arms wrapped around backs, heads resting in the crooks of each other’s necks and legs tangled together until you weren’t sure who’s limbs were who’s anymore.
you were glad that the two of you had decided on no clothes, happily laying against him and feeling so close. being like this, you weren’t really sure how you had managed when he was gone at all, and you know that you would give up anything just to feel like this forever. there was no feeling like being skin to skin with someone you love like this, nothing that you could possibly compare it to. everytime you were away from him, it’s like your whole body ached to be closer to him, even if he was just a couple of paces away. you could never really give something or someone your full attention if he was near, even if you tried your body just decided for you that he was the best place to be.
eyes slipping closed, you both began to drift back off to sleep, feeling safe and comforted in each others hold. you’d discuss it more in the morning, but for now you just wanted to live in your little bubble, at least until tomorrow night, when his nightmares came back to agonize him again.
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faberown · 6 months ago
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IS ADAM A MISOGYNIST?
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Answer: NO. And this should be obvious to anyone with some brain.
But let's try to give more explanations. First of all, let's start outside from the show, and answer a more important question:
IS ADAM A MISOGYNIST IN THE BIBLE?
Well, no. Actually, Adam in the Bible is one of the characters that respect and love women the most, which is ironic considering the time when such things were written (let's remember that until less than 200 years ago women were considering PROPERTY of the men). But then, why is Adam considered a misogynist today? Well, because a problem that unfortunately has afflicted us for a long time: people forget that the mentality of people when the myths were written was very different from today, and what means one thing for us at the time meant another. But unfortunately people don't understand this concept, because it is much easier to read and interpret in a literal way, or rather, in a way that conforms to their own thoughts, so as to justify their beliefs.
Let's take for example another famous myth, that of Hades and Persephone. Many modern interpretations see it as a kidnapping, but the truth is that Hades never kidnapped Persephone: before picking her up, in fact, he had asked permission from Zeus, her father (and also his brother... who was the brother of Demeter, the mother of Persephone... so he married the daughter of his brother that was born from an incest between his brother and his sister... yes, the Greek gods were the embodiment of Sweet Home Alabama). Only after Zeus had given him permission to marry Persephone had Hades gone to get her, because again, daughters at the time were PROPERTY of the male parent; not CUSTODY, just PROPERTY. The mother and daughter had no right to say anything. So, in fact, a kidnapping never existed: Hades simply went to take what belonged to him. Not only that, but Hades behaved in an unusual manner for the time: instead of immediately taking advantage of Persephone as was his right, once in the Underworld he courted her and treated her with extreme respect. He has never cheated on her and has always sincerely loved her (they are literally the ONLY healthy couple in Greek myth), and he himself even proposed the deal to Demeter when he realized that she sincerely wanted to spend time on the surface being the goddess of spring.
See? If we don't base ourselves on a literal interpretation of the myth but rather integrate it with the culture and mentality of the time, suddenly what seemed like an act of violence becomes one of the most beautiful couples in all of Greek mythology, which in fact they were. Now, let's try to apply the same reasoning with Adam, Lilith and Eve.
First let's make one thing clear: Lilith DOESN'T exist in the Bible, so here, to avoid too much confusion, we will simply talk about sacred texts, but that doesn't change much since they were written in very close times. Now, was Adam a bad husband for Lilith? Obviously not. That is a modern feminist literal interpretation of the myth, because they wanted to find at all costs a way to criticize religion and patriarchy (and no, I'm not mad at feminists, I'm simply mad at all those who misinterpret something just to justify their beliefs). In this myth, as we well know, Adam and Lilith had to have sex and she didn't want to be under him, and he replied that she always had to be under him. The problem? Again, the mentality of the time was different. To begin with, the idea of ​​the time was that "sacred" sex, and therefore the only sex allowed in Eden given that it was an earthly Paradise, was only that aimed at procreation; and to procreate, according to the mentality of the time (a mentality that has persisted until very recent times), the only right position was that of a missionary, otherwise the child wouldn't be born (in fact the prostitutes stayed on top not to risk getting pregnant). Is this false? Of course, but for the mentality of the time it was absolute reality. So what Adam is saying to Lilith is not "You must be submissive to me, slave woman you must obey me patriarchy blah blah blah", but rather "sorry, but I can't magically change the position of our organs, if we want to have sex we have to do it this way, so just accept it". Basically, it is as if today a woman wanted to get pregnant by only having oral sex, and after her boyfriend points out that it is impossible she accuses him of being misogynistic: who would you side with? So no, Adam never tried to impose himself on Lilith, Lilith was simply a bitch who wanted to do everything as she wanted and thought she could go against even her own nature. And considering what she did AFTER she escaped from Eden, it's very clear how out of her mind she was; I won't go into detail, just know that she has a long history of cannibalism, rape and pedophilia.
Let's talk about Eve now; again, the idea that she was subservient to Adam arises from a modern feminist misinterpretation. Eve was created from Adam's rib to be "more docile", but then again, "docile" thousands of years ago didn't mean "submissive" at all. "Docile" was considered synonymous with "affectionate, loving, faithful, gentle", and did not take into account submission to the master or anything like that, which in fact had another name. Eve was therefore not created from Adam's rib to be his servant, but rather because in this way they would both complete each other and love each other in the purest and deepest way (the classic saying "I love her as if she were a part of me") . It is, in a certain sense, a variant of a Greek myth that saw all people once united, only to be divided by the gods, and therefore destined to seek their other half through love. In fact, Adam and Eve were a united couple and loved each other madly, to the point that Adam, in many variants of the Bible and even in more modern works such as Milton's Paradise Lost, eats the forbidden fruit because he doesn't want to separate from Eve (which places him, by symbolism, in a heroic way but also as a worse sinner than her, given that he chooses mortality and desire instead of divine grace). In some other versions, even, God doesn't free them together but places them in different places on Earth, so that, after the initial quarrel due to the forbidden fruit, they understand how much they need each other and seek each other, and then reunite in love and begin humanity.
Alright, and with that, we're done with the "accurate biblically story" part. Personally, I was very disappointed that Viv didn't use the real version but limited herself to choosing the extremely wrong modern feminist one, given that I think the original one is much more interesting. But now, let's go further and move on to the second big question:
IS ADAM A MISOGYNIST IN HAZBIN HOTEL?
Hazbin Hotel clearly presents many differences with the sacred texts, to the point of creating a mythology more in its own right than being a reflection of the real one; consequently, let's try to look at it without taking into account what actually happened in the Bible. But even in this case, if we exclude the story described in Charlie's book (which has so many holes that it is impossible not to consider it false, especially considering it was written by those who are described as revolutionary heroes, something never confirmed by any other character of the series), then Adam is not a misogynist at all. Let's analyze his character: all his best soldiers are women and he never shows any doubt that they would know how to do what, since time immemorial, has been considered a man's job; his right hand is a woman and he allows her to speak back on him and even boss him around sometimes; his boss is a woman and even when they disagree he still respects her authority; and the list is still long. The only times he seems to despise women is when he talks to Vaggie, but it is clear that in that moment he is despising her more than women, since she is a traitor and an enemy. Haven't you ever seen a movie where the villain takes advantage of the situation to make fun of the hero, behaving in a way he didn't behave with his henchmen or allies? Well, this is basically the same. Should we consider him misogynistic because when he talks to Charlie he makes silly jokes and pranks and proudly talks about his experiences? I expect such behavior from a slightly rude person, certainly not from a misogynist. Based on this logic, Alastor (who slaps Vaggie on the ass in the pilot) and Lucifer (who objectifies Eve and Lilith by talking about them as if they were trophies during the battle) are misogynists too. It's just a ridiculous thought.
In particular there is a scene in which I want to focus to demonstrate his total absence of misogyny, namely the moment in episode 6 when he and Lute notice Charlie and Vaggie in Heaven. In that scene, Lute grabs him by the collar and orders him not to speak loudly, with a very rude attitude to boot. Not only this is a total lack of respect given the different rank that they have (let's not forget that he is her superior, moreover in a military context, where discipline and respect are considered fundamental and absolute), but it also destroys any idea that Adam might be a misogynist for one simple reason: he lets her do it. People tend to forget this because Adam acts like an idiot and Lute acts like the bossy one, but the difference in strength between them is enormous. Lute is good at fighting with an angelic spear, but Adam can summon weapons, shatter magical shields with a punch, open portals, fire beams of power equal to the most powerful laser on Earth, and even defeat Charlie who in power level is equal or even superior to the Deadly Sins except for Lucifer. Adam can literally pick up Lute and break her bones like she's a breadstick, and no one could scold him for anything since he, being the general of the army, has the authority to give punishments if he feels there is a lack of discipline. If Adam had been a misogynist and a woman had dared to treat him that way, he would have immediately reestablished his authority by punching her in the face, or at least threatening her; instead, he lets her do it and listens to her advice, and he even seems genuinely sorry after she makes an offended face because of an unkind comment of his. Let's said it again: Adam, a being who can fight on equal terms with the princess of Hell and win, doesn't get angry after being treated badly and with disrespect by a woman inferior to him, but rather listens to her and follows her advice. Does this seem misogynistic to you?
So, to conclude, no, Adam is not a misogynist, he's just a slightly rude person who thinks his jokes are funny (and it must be said that no one ever contradicts him). He's like the classic pompous friend that any of us have had in life. Calling him misogynistic means to have no clue what misogyny, or patriarchy, is. Viv's problem (as unfortunately with many others) is that she uses words to describe her characters without really knowing what they mean, and she relies on her personal experiences (extremely subjective and without any objective value for the rest of the world) to write them. If Adam is indeed based on an ex-boyfriend, then that ex-boyfriend was just a ridiculous pompous prideful guy who didn't know what education was, certainly not a misogynist. I don't wish for Viv to meet a true misogynist in her life, but if that will happen she will immediately understand how stupid she was to describe Adam as one.
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ficsonpost-its · 3 months ago
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general lara croft headcanons
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summary: general headcanons about lara croft. does include some x reader but are mostly just gen cw: none based off the survivor trilogy/timeline!
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‣ She's so humble! Despite being from a rather aristocratic background, she carries herself in such a way that gives off the impression it's something she doesn't identify much with. When meeting new people Lara prefers to just be herself, remain polite and respectful, and let first impressions do all the work.
‣ She's read practically every book in the manor's library and then some. You can't walk into a single room without finding a book pile or several scattered around.
‣ And somehow she knows exactly where a specific one is??? It's unreal, it's impressive. Ask for something you'll think is pretty niche and she's gone for a few minutes only to return back with something about that specific topic. How does she do it?
‣ She's nowhere near 3 Michelin stars regarding the quality of her cooking but she's pretty decent. She can make something that both looks and tastes nice. Sure she might not get a Paul Hollywood handshake but, relating to her humble traits, prefers to learn things herself and not rely on others to help. This specific trait translates into nearly everything she does.
‣ Adding onto this, she's incredibly independent and resilient. You have to be when in Lara's line of work. She grew up pretty independent as a child and as a result can take care of herself well enough until she's fixated on some myth or mystery but the resilience? That came with time and experience out in the field.
‣ Speaking of her fixations... they can sometimes be detrimental to her own health. Lara has a bad habit of forgetting to eat, sleep, or perform any basic bodily functions when she's in a certain mindset and she thinks she's close to a big discovery. Please hound her to at least go to the bathroom and pester her with eating the sandwich that's been sitting on the table for the past 2 hours.
‣ I think she'd be a pretty great gift giver! She's an empathetic person who pays attention to things her friends say or notice. She's likely tried her hands at homemade things or "found" something in a tomb she thinks you'd like.
‣ If you're a person with even the slightest similarity of interest to her, prepare to be a rubber duck. You can just be relaxing in the morning having breakfast and Lara will burst into the room waffling on about yet another archaeological topic she's lost more sleep over just for a second opinion. Be prepared for her to suddenly scurry away back into her study if you've said something that gave her a metaphorical lightbulb.
‣ Also be prepared for a book to just be dropped in your lap as she's talking, sometimes she gets a little carried away when she gets excited.
‣ She's so intelligent to the point it's giving savant syndrome. The way she remembers so many details about so many topics is quite frankly amazing. She's so well read, so well educated, how does her brain have room for it all? Is her brain a black hole full of knowledge? Who knows. Admire this about her please.
‣ She hates black coffee. The drink overall feels so thin because of the high water content and you have to wait a thousand years for it to cool down enough to even drink. But at the same time she doesn't like overly sweet things like a caramel frappe for example. Lara likes a healthy medium, she's a bit fussy like that.
‣ Despite hating black coffee, she'll only drink it if it's the only available thing and she'll hate every second of it.
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good lord i did not expect this post to take me 20 minutes tops i was on a roll
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izelthewashbear · 13 days ago
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Y'know what? Screw this, I just spent the past 2 hours studying for a test tomorrow, so have a random incoherent rant about why Rendog in Life series symbolizes rebirth, as well as his connections with the moon. Cuz why not. Featuring random things I learned during my myths and religions class. Bear in mind that I just finished studying and my brain might be slightly fried, so I might just be blabberin nonsense.
Right off the bat, the most important aspect - being beheaded and thus turning into the Red king. Quite obviously, he was literally reborn into this role - a role of protector of his own people and slayer of the ones who wanted to harm them.
Okay but first, let's go a little earlier than that. Ren's first death was forced upon him (no shit) by Grian's trap, being set off by Jimmy. Without that death, and being reborn as a yellow, he would probably never create 'the test' which resulted in his beheading - or either way, even if he died differently, I'd happen after his first death, so either way, after being reborn. Rebirth into a yellow made him realize the only way to beat his enemies (by that I mean the desert hippies) is to be like one of them - a red. And for that, he needed to be reborn as one.
But let's go a little further than that. One thing that came to my mind lately - many cultures and mythologies equate east with life and birth, and west with death. Quite obviously - the Sun, the thing that gives and symbolizes life, raises from the east and sets on the west. Where was Dogwarts located on the 3rd Life server? On the eastern side of the map, almost the furthest point east. And where was Monopoly mountain, the desert, their biggest enemies, located? Along the western end of the map. Monopoly Mountain is actually the furthest west point of interest on the 3rd Life server map.
Shadow Alliance and the way they speak about the Moon immediately made me think of lunar mythology - part of mythology all about obviously the moon, but also things like the moon phases, the ebb and flow of the sea, even menstrual cycles. The endless cycle (another mythology term). Repetition and rebirth.
In Double Life, him and Martyn want to take Pearl on their side through the Broken Hearts Club, because Ren perceives Pearl as someone powerful and worth having on their side. Although he does, indeed, speak about her more so like a threat that's better if it's on their side, rather than against them. And I don't think I even have to mention the obvious connection between Pearl and the moon, like cmon.
One more note for Ren and the moon - he's half dog. Some people interpret him as a werewolf. And of course there is a connection between the moon and werewolves - the transformation, the change, one would even say being reborn into something new. Damn, I should make my Ren design into a werewolf-
You could say "Okay but Ren is gone in Limited Life and the cycle of rebirth is still there"- is it? I'd go as far to say that for the sake of this comparison, deaths in Limited Life do not even have to count as actual deaths. People do not automatically go to different colored lives. In session 3, when Grian is AFK, there isn't even the death screen as someone dies - it's like the death doesn't matter, you're just put right back in, losing some of your time. But dying by running out of time? That's a whole different beast. It's coming for you. You can't stop it, no matter how well you play, how many times you die in the meantime. And once it reaches you, there is no rebirth. Without Ren, there is no rebirth.
Adding Secret Life based on ideas people suggested in reblogs and comments:
1. Ren taking over Tango's body. If we associate Ren with rebirth, and Tango is often associated with fire, what does that combine into? A phoenix. (I could insert Phoenix!Jimmy propaganda here but I won't)
2. The fact there is no health regeneration. You cannot get back to full health by just using potions or eating. The only way to get health back is to either complete your task. Which means - you only get to regenerate if you comply with the Watchers. Aside from Ren, the Watchers are the only way you can survive. Which could be exactly why they took him out.
The moment Wild Life starts, everyone immediately starts out on 6 lives. As if they're being made up for all the health they lost while Ren was away.
Very small nitpick, but the second wildcard is how Ren dies for the first time. The whole wildcard of ep 2 (eating the items) is all about messing up with their regeneration. And since Ren just got back, it's as if the regen aspect is still a bit messed up.
Martren. Like. Martren. C'mon. The idea that your loved one dies, so you take a part of them and you become something else. Like c'mon. What else is there to say.
If you have any of your own ideas drop them here, I might add them (and credit you ofc)
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merakiui · 1 year ago
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while in captivity, floyd encounters a human and unintentionally pair-bonds with you during a moment of biological vulnerability.
(cw: gender neutral reader, nsfw, omegaverse/abo, heats, captivity)
The marine lab has recently acquired a unique specimen—unique in that he is half-human and half-fish, hailing from deep, dark, indescribable depths. An eel merman, to be exact. You’ve only ever glimpsed merfolk in outdated textbooks and fairytales, the latter of which depicted them as whimsical beings capable of feats beyond scientific understanding. Magic. Although in the realm of biology, such folly is never entertained and so what the world calls ‘magic’ other fields built upon the foundations of research refer to it as a ‘miracle’. In your eyes those words are interchangeable, but then the idea of a miracle is far easier to digest than the concept of magic.
Merfolk have always been elusive, covert creatures, hence why there is hardly any conclusive data on them. In fact, they’re so secretive that they were believed to be mostly extinct—a figment of dreams and hallucinations. Most of what humans know stems from the tattered notes of long-gone sailors, their presences nearly lost to time itself, and for a while all anyone ever knew were four key details:
They are spread throughout the sea, living out their lives in frigid fathoms. 
They are hypnotic and deceptive. 
They are predatory. 
They rarely interact with humankind unless absolutely necessary (e.g. to hunt or observe).
But with plenty of promising technological advances, some of the theories and myths surrounding merfolk have been bolstered or disproved, respectively. Merfolk are just as diverse as the rest of the animal kingdom. Some live in solitude. Others thrive in groups. Some make their home out of caves and grottos. Some dwell within the labyrinths of volcanic rock formations. It is every marine biologist’s dream to come face to face with one of these mysterious creatures, if only for just a few minutes to glean more information.
That dream is made reality today.
The eel mer was discovered off the coast of a tiny island, entangled in fishing lines and plastic litter. His large, winding body, snake-like in its sleek build, was littered with scars and scrapes. There was a hook lodged up in the folds of his gills. Despite his thrashing, his tail swishing wildly in the sand and nearly knocking down three researchers like they were bowling pins, he was wheezing and gasping, drained of energy and air. When the first bucket of seawater came down upon his dry gills, he settled briefly, wide, crazed, mismatched eyes flicking from face to face. Likely assessing the situation or counting the amount of bodies, the report claimed.
He fell still after that, and it took two teams of ten people to load him onto the lift so he could be flown to the lab.
After he spent a week in recovery, where he healed surprisingly fast, he was transferred to a much larger and wider tank, its depths far deeper than the average swimming pool. He doesn’t swim to the surface much, and he only ever pokes his head out at night, scanning his surroundings with intelligent, keen eyes. And then he turns and disappears below. It’s a pattern he’s stuck to for weeks now. No one really understands it, and they haven’t had the opportunity to try. He’s uncooperative and unpredictable. It’s much too dangerous to send a diver down there.
So they transfer you to his enclosure, assuming you might have more luck. You’re not sure and you can’t make any promises of potential success, as you’ve only ever interacted with marine mammals. A merman is…different. Not only because he’s half-man and, by that same logic, likely possesses a human brain that is capable of a higher level of thought, albeit one that is wired to suit his mer biology, but because he’s bigger. A lot bigger.
He could kill you.
You saw the documentation. The serrated teeth, the powerful claws, the dangerous jaw, the bulky, muscular build that cuts through water like a bullet. He is a predator in every sense of the word, and you’re supposed to look after him. Coax him to the surface. Get him to trust humans. Interact with him just inches from the edge of his tank and hope that he doesn’t get hungry or violent.
He might kill you.
But there are safety measures put in place for these things. Ethics to be followed and whatnot. It’s a slippery slope because he’s part human and therefore could possibly have the same level of intelligence humans have, in which case it would be wrong to trap him here. There may be ways to skirt around it with other animals, but he’s not like other animals.
For now, he’s kept here under the pretense of recovery and scientific study. The lab treats him like the big fish he is, going so far as to buy a shark suit in your size and instruct you to wear it even though you’re not going to get in the water. “It should prevent him from biting through,” they had said, “but it won’t lessen the force of his bite.”
“What good will that do? I can’t fight him off.” Though you knew it had nothing to do with anything, you added, “I’m an omega. Merfolk might not have the same sub-genders as we do up on the surface—or maybe they do; I don’t know—but if he were human he’d definitely classify as an alpha. Put that into perspective. I can’t. Fight. Him. Off. It’s biologically impossible.”
“So you poke his eyes. Dig your fingers into his gills. He should let go of you then.”
“That’ll hurt him,” you protested, clutching the suit to your chest.
“Not as much as he’ll hurt you.”
You suppose it’s a clinical priority. Survival of the fittest, but it’s the human who has to live. The lab could afford to lose you, but they don't want to. And if they did, they might put the mer down. Shoot him up with enough tranquilizers to keep him comatose. Maybe it only bothered you because, yet again, he’s half-human and no one on the team knows the extent to which he thinks and functions.
To simplify it, they consider him a shark. But like any creature, sharks learn and adapt as they go. Death is instinct.
He will kill you.
But you don’t want to think like that, which is why you put on your best smile and trudge into the enclosure he’s being kept in. The tank looms before you, seawater clear and beamed through with streaks of light from the harsh, glaring LEDs above. The deeper the water gets, the darker the shadows. You press your palm against the glass, observing the murky darkness with a frown. Somewhere in this tank, at a depth you can’t even imagine, is an eel merman. A big, strong, powerful, scary eel merman.
You swallow a steadying breath, curl your fingers into fists, and climb the spiral staircase to get to the attached platform. Your reflection follows you with each step, countenance set in grim confliction. Once you reach the top, you peer out at the surface of the pool, listening to the droning hum of water filters and other hidden machinery. There’s a very shallow part of the tank, a dip in the design that allows for the mer to lounge if he so pleases. You’re reminded of the dolphins in live shows, who slide up onto their stomachs to face an awestruck audience. You doubt that’s what he’ll use this ledge for. If anything, it could allow a researcher to kneel in the shallows while they interact with him at an intimate propinquity.
You don’t plan on being that researcher.
Instead, you pace a healthy distance away from the edge, holding a bucket of his breakfast in one hand and a notebook in the other.
“Um!” You cringe at your voice as it reverberates around you in a nervous echo. Cautiously, you inch towards the water. “I have your food!”
You wait three seconds, expecting him to come bursting up from the darkness like the shark everyone wants to delude themselves into thinking he is. The water remains still and unbroken. You wonder if your voice can even reach such a depth. If not the sound, the vibrations might. Or maybe he’s resting. It’s still relatively early in the morning. Perhaps his sleep schedule is thrown off. Yours would be if you were taken from your home and dumped in a manufactured version of your habitat.
You lurch forwards with the bucket and watch as a collection of shrimp, crab, and small fish soar through the air in a sloppy arc before landing and sinking into the waiting depths below. Nothing happens. The tension in your body ebbs away, and when it becomes clear that he isn’t coming up to greet you and feast on your offering you relax completely, collapsing against the wall with a great sigh.
If they really want to study him, they should just watch him on the security feed, you think, peering up at the camera in one corner of the room, its red eye fixated on you and the surrounding enclosure. He’s not going to come up during the day. Not when there are humans walking around.
Still, you wait your shift out, scribbling nonsense in your notebook and occasionally glancing up to gauge the state of the water.
The mer doesn’t show, so you resolve to try again.
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Try you do, and try you have. 
It’s been one week of perfunctory routine, arriving and feeding him at the same time in hopes that he might understand what you’re doing and come up to investigate. Or, at the very least, recognize you’re a recurring figure in his chapter of captivity. You don’t intend on befriending him. You only wish to fulfill your duties as a researcher, however skewed they may have become. Even though you know you ought to be grateful the mer hasn’t caused any problems, you want something to happen. Anything! At this rate, you’d sooner tire yourself out playing with rowdy sea lions than sit around in silence while waiting for an appearance from him.
It’s a quiet Tuesday afternoon when the first beat of unrest hits.
The mer’s enclosure is kept at a comfortable temperature for humans; it’s the water that’s freezing below the surface. So when you step up onto the platform and peer into the chum-infested deep, the empty bucket now set aside, you feel warmer than usual. Odd, considering the room is normally so chilly. Not extremely so, but chilly enough to give way to a pleasant cold.
Tugging at the collar of your shark suit, you cover the distance to stand under a large fan situated just near the dip in the pool. Cool air kisses your heated skin, providing you with much-needed relief, and you peer up at the propellers that spin in endless circles. Around and around and around. Your eyes follow the motions until you dizzy yourself, and you step back on wobbly legs. Your foot misses the metal platform and instead slips into the ledge built in the tank. With a startled yelp you fall backwards, landing in the shallows on your rear.
“Of course,” you mumble, bitter with embarrassment. “Leave it to me to fall right into the predator’s tank.”
You scoot further up onto the ledge, staring at the water below. It’s quite calm here, where the shallows lap languidly at your waist. If you were delusional, you might think this was a jacuzzi pool that you could dip your toes in. It’s not. Of course it isn’t. Not when there’s a beast lurking just below. But while you’re here, you run your hands through the saltwater while your own body temperature rises as if it’s a hungry flame in a stone hearth.
You place your hands on either side of the ledge, intending to push yourself up and onto the platform, when something tightens inside of you. Your heart stumbles in your chest and you lose the strength in your arms at once. With a noisy splash, you flop back into the shallows, your compromised body rigid and shaky with a tingling, all-encompassing warmth. Horrified, you raise two fingers to your pulse to feel it stutter wildly beneath your skin.
Swallowing thickly, you lower your head onto your arms and wait for the feeling to pass. The seconds slip by and in that short amount of time your state seems to worsen. Your temperature is volcanic, your every sense restless, and you’re sweating through the shark suit as if you’ve just run a marathon and more.
“Not now,” you hiss, slapping your hands upon your face. “Please not now. Anything but now…”
You intend to haul yourself up and out for good this time, desperate to get as far from the pool before your brain is completely overrun by your encroaching heat and robust omega instincts, when fingers brush against your leg. Something chitters behind you, a low, slow sort of sound that is shot through with curiosity. You turn as if you’re frozen in ice, your heart in your throat and senses on high alert.
The eel mer is right there, clutching your ankle in a firm grip. Not to hurt you, but to keep you there. And you’re not at all in a hurry to leave. Not when those claws are so close to your calf, capable of shredding through to your very bones. Even with the shark suit, you worry. He stares at you with narrowed eyes, his head angled in a cute, childish way. He appears confused and rightfully so, considering you’re a creature he’s likely never interacted with so closely before. You mirror his befuddlement, your brows furrowed, lips creased in a thin line.
For a long while, the two of you watch each other. If you look past his predatory design, he’s quite pretty with his smoky teal coloration and dark stripes. Your gaze pans over to the water, where a long, powerful tail disappears below. The paranoid side of you says he’s going to drown you, but then he doesn’t seem outwardly malicious in his intentions.
“Um…”
He flinches at the sound of your voice, his head snapping up to your throat and then your lips. Your attempt to pull your captive leg back is thwarted when he lurches, rising out of the water to grab hold of your foot. You gasp and shake your head at him, your senses sharp and dull all at once. Your heat-addled mind just barely parses the threat of danger, looming and ever-present.
“Please,” you beg, your tone sticky and breathless. “Don’t…”
The mer tilts his head the other way. The fins where his ears might be if he were human shiver, as if listening to the desperation in your syllables. He chirrups, lips widening in a sharp-toothed smile, and then he’s dragging you towards him. Panic seizes your nerves and you dig your palms into the smooth basin in an effort to get away. His expression falls when he notices your struggle and he lifts himself onto the ledge with you, draping himself over your legs like an oversized rug.
“Wait… H-Hold on; get off!” You grunt and weakly prod at his chest. He doesn’t budge. “You… You’re heavy!”
His webbed hand closes around your waist, steadying you in the shallows, while his other arm cages you beneath him. Instinctively, you arch into his touch, your breath coming in tiny, frenzied huffs. He clicks at you, and words that you can only assume are meant to be gentle and soothing are produced in a sweet melody. It relaxes you more than you’d like to admit, a lyrical balm to your terror.
You squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself for the worst. For the searing pain and the stinging agony. For the blood that will color the water a dark, foreboding red. For the sight of him merrily tearing into your jugular, his maw spattered with crimson. But none of that ever comes. He cradles your face next, his thumb running along your cheekbone, and slowly you peel your eyes open. His face is inches from yours, looking on with an intensity that’s almost primal.
Warily, you lift your arm out of the water and touch his hand. It’s much bigger in contrast to yours, but he’s handling you with such immaculate tenderness.
“You’re not going to hurt me…” you mutter, amazed. “You’re just curious.”
As if responding, he chitters. You nod even though you have no idea what he said. He doesn’t smell like an alpha or an omega or a beta. You’re not even sure if he’s capable of releasing pheromones, but if he were you’re certain it would have driven you much crazier than you already feel.
You hold his stare and reach up to pat his cheek, and he leans into your careful touch. Your hand soon trails down to trace his lateral lines, which earns you a pleased hum. You watch in awe as the gills on either side of his body flutter.
Led on by your own wonder, you follow the pattern to his waist and press your thumbs into his hip bones beneath smooth, slippery skin. “How fascinating… I wonder if it’s possible to take an X-ray. Would you allow—oh!”
Clumsily, he lifts you into his arms to embrace you, rolling his hips against the chainmail shark suit. Your breath hitches, and you fumble to grasp his broad shoulders.
“Ah, w-wait. I’m not… You can’t…”
He clicks thrice and lowers you into the shallows, his face scrunched in annoyance. You think he might’ve understood you, but then he’s palming between your legs and it occurs to you that he wants the suit off. Carnal delight shivers through you at the prospect of being wanted to such a degree, and though you know it’s the heat muddling your sensibility you can’t help indulging him just a little. You undo the zip at the back and slide it from your body, revealing your shoulders and bare arms for his wandering, mismatched hues. He leans in to nose at your scent glands, chattering happily as he inhales. You can’t understand a word, but he sounds pleased—even more so when he runs his hands along your arms, squeezing and petting in equal measure.
His tongue laves across your neck, and what fragile restraint you have left snaps. You cling to him like he’s your anchor, meeting his searching hips halfway with every awkward thrust that doesn’t quite connect as it should. You chew your lip, tamping down a torrent of filthy moans. Your mind is clouded with lust and instinct, and you dig your fingers into his hair, holding him against your neck while he continues to lick and nip.
It feels right up until the haze parts momentarily, allowing temporary sobriety when you spy the tip of something poking free of its encasing. Dazed and inquisitive, you reach between your bodies to prod at his slit, hoping to coax more of his prehensile cock from out of its folds. But then the door below opens and the mer lifts himself from off of you, his head turning in the direction of the sound at an alarming speed. You blink up at him, lazily following his line of sight. His lip curls up in a silent snarl, the beginnings of razored teeth peeking out, and then he slithers back into the water, his hands lingering on your ankles.
Despite the dizziness you sit up, your arm outstretched. “Wait, don’t go!”
I didn’t get to cum yet. You didn’t even claim me either…
He peers at you, neutral for all of a minute before swimming over to you. He presses his face into your palm, chittering softly. There are footsteps on the stairs, and he grits his teeth, withdrawing completely before turning and diving under in a spray of seawater.
You fall back into the shallows, panting like a starved, feral monster. A researcher comes to your aid, her expression equal parts shocked and disturbed. You don’t catch her questions, each one tacked onto what feels like a ceaseless rant, while she helps you to your feet. Something about danger. About heats. About omega biology. About how the researchers watched the both of you on the cameras, swelling with queries of their own.
“I’m not sure,” you mumble as you’re helped down the stairs, stumbling in a heat-drunken stupor. Thankfully, your fellow researcher is an omega like you and that relaxes the hypersensitive part of you—the part that fears being taken advantage of when you’re vulnerable like this. But the needier, greedier part of you wants the mer—wants his hands and mouth all over you, ripping you free from your suit and indulging in the bare skin beneath. “I think he...wanted to help…”
No one can explain his behavior. But it seems promising.
While you’re led from the room, the eel mer stalks you from the gloomy confines of his tank.
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In the days following your heat, you return to the marine lab with your head on your shoulders and are immediately barraged with requests. Amongst all of them, one common demand stands out: You have to get him up to the surface again. Part of you doesn’t want to face the mer again. When you truly mulled over that day, tossed the memory of it around in your mind like it was a tennis ball, you were hit with shame.
It’s not…normal. Researchers do not tangle themselves in sexual situations with their subjects, especially when said subject was an eel mer from the Coral Sea. It’s unheard of. Luckily, the team of researchers you work with swears to secrecy. You were out of it and your judgment wasn’t in the best state. That’s the excuse they’re using. It works enough to push the humiliation from your thoughts.
You wonder if you should feel disgusted by the events. Rather, you didn’t mind it. For all of his rough, scarred, monstrous edges, he was gentle.
You press your fingers to your scent glands, recalling the feel of his tongue.
Today you’ve donned your usual work attire, foregoing the shark suit and any other protective gear the lab expects you to wear. Something tells you you won’t need it anymore. Not after everything that happened the day you went into heat.
Feeling rejuvenated and refreshed after your mini break, you trudge up the staircase with a food bucket, determined to finally fill your notebook with data. You’ve only made it up four steps when color flashes in your peripheral. You turn and find the mer is at your eye level, following you up the spiral staircase adjacent to his tank.
You pause and wave experimentally. He watches your hand move to and fro and then he mirrors your actions. He swims the rest of the distance to the surface, breaching it just as you make it onto the platform.
“Good morning, Mister,” you greet, bending down to empty the contents of the bucket into the water.
Disinterested, he watches bits of shrimp sink deeper. And then he looks back to you, his mouth opening and shutting. “Fu… Fu…” he forces out, his face scrunched in concentration.
“Fu…? Food?” 
He nods and then shakes his head, hissing at himself in what you think might be admonishment. 
“Fu…ro…”
“Furo?” You set the bucket aside and scoot closer to the edge. “What’s that?”
He tries once more before the syllables fizzle out on his tongue and, with a few frustrated clicks, he swipes a fish from the surface and stuffs it in his mouth. You giggle, and the sound has him tilting his head. Without a shred of apprehension, he meets you at the ledge. You watch him munch on the fish between his lips, content to observe in silence. He polishes it off rather quickly before procuring a handful, which he dumps onto the ground beside you. You shake your head at him, smiling weakly.
“Thanks, but no. It’s all yours.”
The mer shrugs and indulges without you.
“I should thank you for not hurting me back then,” you add. He pays close attention to your lips; you think he might be attempting to read them while listening. “Um… But don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not sure if merfolk are like humans, but we have this system… Or not a system… It’s more like…groupings? Secondary classifications?” You frown. How can you explain the complexities of sub-genders to a mer who doesn’t even speak your language? “Basically, I was in trouble and you helped me out. Kind of. In any case, thank you.”
He stares at you for a while, chewing and swallowing. You think he might swim back under once he’s finished, but instead he places his hands on the ledge and hoists himself up on his arms. He’s in your face next, all eager smiles and chitters.
“Fu… Furo. Furo…ido. Furoido,” he sounds out.
You read his lips in the best way you can before it finally clicks. “Ah! Floyd, right? Is that…your name?”
Floyd points to himself, makes a few upbeat clicks, and then nods. He’s pointing at you next.
“And me? Oh, my name is (Name).” You take your time sounding it out for him, and he repeats it with an awkward tongue. You smile and nod encouragingly. “That’s it. That’s me.”
He flops back into the water with a celebratory trill, a wild smile tugging at his lips. You watch him swim laps from you to the opposite end of the pool and back. Ditching the shark suit was the right call. You’re no longer uncertain. This time, you know for a fact that you’re going to be getting along very well with him.
And you look forward to fostering this flowering friendship.
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