#switch controller stim | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

notjustjavierpena · 2 years ago

Note

dark!joel miller dbf that comforts innocent!reader when she’s feeling lonely and sad but he can’t control himself and he coerces/manipulates her into him using her to relieve himself. pet names, condescending joel, breeding kink, the works 🫶🏼

Switch

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This might be my darkest filth to date. Thanks to anon for making me explore this side… it is definitely one of my favorite things to read, so let’s see if I’m good at writing it.

Summary: Joel, your dad’s best friend, finds you in your room crying and wants to comfort you.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), dub-con, pet names, innocence kink, age gap, clit stim, dirty talk, piv sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, dad’s best friend

Word count: 3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48393787

Switch

When Joel enters your parents’ house, he is surprised to find the door unlocked, but with no one inside. He calls out for your father then, moments later, your mother, before realizing that no one is going to answer.

It’s only when he is about to leave again that he notices your annoyingly cute shoes by the front door. He smiles, unaware that you would be on a visit to your hometown this weekend. It also means that he can start his search for the keys to the car that he has agreed to lend over the next couple of days.

… but they’re nowhere to be found, and the thought of you being somewhere in the house makes a manhunt seem more fun. He could ask you, he decides, yes, a very good idea.

You wipe your tears with the back of your hand as you hear the first knock on your door. It is a frantic movement that serves no purpose except to make your face seem even redder with how much pressure you use to remove the tear streaks as well.

“Come in,” you say nonchalantly, turning on your spinning chair to face the door with a brave face.

Joel presses down the handle and gently pushes the door open. He sticks his head inside, “Hey sweetheart, didn’t know you were home from college. I’m just tryna find the car keys. Your old man said they’d be—“

He notices your red face and his brows knit together in parental concern. He walks into your childhood bedroom and closes the door behind him, “How’s college treatin’ ya? Made any friends?”

Your bottom lip trembles a little. Joel thinks it might be the saddest and most precious thing he has ever seen, wanting to snap a picture of the pouty face you are making as you try to stop yourself from crying.

“It’s horrible, Joel,” you confess and the tears start spilling uncontrollably, “I feel awkward. Out of place and boring—“

“Hey,” Joel immediately strides across the room, a pang in his stomach telling him to soothe you, “What’re you talking about?”

“I feel less lonely alone in my childhood bedroom,” you let out a little laugh as you cry, but Joel just wipes a few tears from your eyes, and you help him by catching the ones threatening to drip down from your chin. It’s a nice little gesture to feel him soothe you, and you lean into the touch for just a moment to acknowledge what he is doing.

“Kiddo,” he tuts, watches you rest your hands in your lap as he cups your face. It gives him the opportunity to slide his hand down your cheek to hold your chin with his thumb and index finger. He tips your head back to gain eye contact with you, “You’re a smart girl. Anyone would be lucky to have ya barging into their lives. Just gotta do it. No need to cry.”

“Easy for you to say. I never had to win you over,” you try to stifle the sob that’s going to spill from your throat, but it comes out in a croak anyway.

Joel’s face softens even more. He wants to do whatever he can to make you stop crying, deciding to hold out his arms, “C’mere, kiddo.”

You get up from your seat at the desk and step into his arms, letting your forehead rest against his shoulder and your arms along your sides. He chuckles slightly, chest rumbling a little, and kisses the top of your head, “Attagirl. There, there.”

You don’t register the flip of a switch inside of him before it is too late, starting with the sniff of your hair that sets off something primal in Joel. It’s vanilla. Dumb, innocent, Girl Scout-esque vanilla. You smell like fucking vanilla, and the sweetness has him inhale deeply as he realizes that he has been holding his breath.

It makes the sweet scent fill his nostrils once again, and, unsurprisingly, has him hard within mere seconds. He pokes into your thigh, and you look down with a loud gasp and the redness in your cheeks isn’t caused by crying anymore.

“Joel,” you sound confused, unable to find a proper way to respond to the situation.

Joel makes a decision then. He lets his arms unwrap from you and reaches down to undo your jeans, fumbling only for a moment with the button until getting to the zipper.

“What are you doing?” Your eyes widen. Even moreso when he sticks a hand in your pants.

“Nothing, I’m just tryna make you feel better, sweetheart,” he replies, smiling softly at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as they’ve darkened with lust. When he swipes his fingers over your clit, your gasp turns into a moan and you grab onto him. Joel is in heaven, “There we go. Ain’t that better?”

“We shouldn’t—“ you argue, but Joel’s fingers grind harder against your clit, and heat starts to rise between your legs.

“Shhh, shut up for a second and let yourself enjoy this. Betcha stupid college boys can’t make you come like I will in just a moment.”

You moan a little louder, shaking your head both to answer his postulate and to tell him to stop, “But Joel… Ah.”

Joel knows he shouldn’t, but you were waltzing around in a bikini this summer, and he hates you for growing up to be such a fine young woman. He cannot stop thinking about you in the red one with high legs, barely covering your ass and sending an old dog like himself to fuck his hand in his best friend’s bathroom. He deserves this after all this time.

His fingers move back and forth between your legs, expertly closing in on your climax with each swipe and you hold onto him for dear life. Your hips buck as you come, and he can feel a slight gush on his digits as your legs start to shake.

“Good girl,” he praises, slowing down his touches until your high passes. Only then, he retracts his hand and watches the dazed look upon your face.

It takes a few moments before you realize what has just taken place, drunk on being touched by a handsome man. Quickly, you reach to button your pants again, but Joel lays a hand on top of your wrist. Your doe eyes nearly have him toppling over.

“Joel, we cannot do shit like that,” you whisper despite no one being there but you and him.

“Language,” he reprimands without hesitation, “Turn around.”

You make yourself a little taller, but cannot hide the blush on your face, indicating your heart rate, “I mean it.”

“Turn around,” he reaches under your hand and curls his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, and you respond by looking down, “S’my turn.”

“Fuck, Joel— dad’s gonna murder you,” you continue your whisper.

“Your daddy ain’t here right now,” Joel yanks at your jeans hard to turn your around. He kicks the spinning chair to the side, so he can push you down over your childhood desk and nearly make you knock over its pink lava lamp.

The pulsing between your legs returns. You look at him over your shoulder, curling your toes in your socks as the anticipation of what is about to happen hits you. You know that you should fight it, and you make a last effort to stop him, but it isn’t very convincing.

“It isn’t right.”

“You don’t want to leave me hard enough for your precious daddy to see, do ya? Or do ya wanna get me in trouble?” Joel reveals what he is doing behind you when you hear the buckle of his belt. The metal hits your carpet with a clink, “Answer me so I know if you’ll fuck me over.”

“N-no, of course not, never,” you stutter, already reaching to pull your jeans down now that Joel never allowed you to button them again. Joel wants to bite down on his fist, watching the blue and pink Superman panties reveal themselves. It’s all so perfectly innocent and he is going to ruin you by putting his cock in you.

Joel knows you’re not a virgin; has seen you getting picked up by some boy with a shitty car a few times. It’s fine. It makes this easier, to just be relentless, even if he wishes that he’d been the one to show you the ropes, wondering briefly if the stupid boy has ever made you come like he will. No matter what, he is sure that no one has ever made you come that fast.

“Was it so hard to give in?” Joel eventually asks, pushing his own jeans and then briefs down over his hips, settling them around his knees. You shake your head, mirror him by tugging at your panties, showing off your wetness by slowly pulling to reveal the way they stick to your cunt.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, cock twitching without even having touched you. He watches the light trickle of wetness seep from your pussy, glistening right before his eyes to invite him in. It takes all his willpower not to stuff you to the brim right then and there, “That all for me?”

You look back at him again, nodding slowly with your bottom lip between your teeth. You know this isn’t right but there’s nothing that could stop you from doing this when you’re this horny, this curious to know if he’ll even fit.

“Eyes front, sweetheart. Gonna fuck you real good,” he promises, watching you obey prettily and rest your tits on the Hello Kitty computer mat.

“Please, put it in,” you whine, spreading your legs a little.

Joel lazily grabs his cock between his thumb and forefinger, takes a step closer toward you and nudges the thick head between your folds. He steadies his heartbeat with a slow breath, exhaling heavily as he starts to enter you. Fuck, he knows this will have the capability of ruining his life forever if anyone finds out but when you whimper at his size, he knows that he is done for; nothing will ever be enough again after feeling the tight grip of your young and inexperienced cunt.

“It’s not going to fit,” you tell him with slight panic to your voice, hands coming up to grab whatever you can but only the surface is safe. You are already panting from the pulsing of your walls, body resisting him just slightly. You want to tell him that you haven’t been fucked in months, and that you’ve never been with someone his size, girth stretching your aching cunt until your body feels feverish, “I’ve never been… Please, Joel, Mr. Miller. I—“

“Fuck you calling me Mr. Miller like your cunt didn’t just squeeze down on me when you said it,” Joel growls. He moves forward without warning, bottoming out inside of you and making you keen loudly as you feel him bump into your cervix. It hurts. Your nails dig into the wood, mouth opening in a silent shout.

“You never been what? With a man?” Joel continues, the real man is implied. A soothing hand comes to rest on top of the small of your back, acknowledging the pain that he has caused for just a moment before reaching to grab your hips with both hands.

You suck in a sharp breath, screwing your eyes shut as you wait for the first thrust. Joel pulls back only slightly then settles inside of you again with a brutal force, thinking that you might as well get used to it quickly so that there’s no rush to finish the job if your father arrives home. He does realize that this is a possibility at any given moment. It makes him jerk inside you.

After that, he starts a pace that has little consideration for you. He will take what he has wanted since the beginning of summer, thrusting harshly into you and making the desk slam against the wall until you are a moaning mess underneath him. It doesn’t hurt as much anymore, especially when his dick slides over that little spot inside of you that you’ve never felt anyone be able to do before.

“Fuck,” you gasp loudly, clenching once as the nudge inside of you sends signals to your clit. It throbs like before, ready to be touched again but you don’t dare let go of the wooden desk in case you topple off onto the floor.

“You don’t fucking swear or I’ll tell on you to your daddy,” one of his hands slide up to hold onto the back of your neck. He leans over you, goes impossibly deeper.

“Sorry, it-it’s just…” you whine, struggling a little against his grip but eventually managing to look back at him like earlier. It causes his fingers to dig into your cheek instead of your neck, “No one’s ever—“

He can see you struggling to stop yourself from cussing again, making him smirk as he breathes raggedly into the very pink room. He holds your gaze, ignoring the family photos on the wall in front of him, “Never what?”

“Fucked me like this, ah, made me want to co— Joel, made me want to come again,” you blurt out and squeeze your eyes shut again at a particularly hard thrust. You moan loudly, now also standing on your tippy toes because Joel’s hips are so strong that he is about to lift you off the ground a little.

The hand on your neck and cheek slips around your head, covering your mouth to stop you from swearing once again. He wishes he had time to teach you a lesson. His fingers dig into the corners of your mouth, and you fight the urge to bite down to feel just a bit of relief from the tension building up in the pits of your stomach, tugging from inside towards your touch-starved clit whenever he thrusts against your g-spot.

“If you can’t use your words properly without spitting filth,” he says firmly despite his slowly crumbling facade, balls tightening as his climax builds just like yours, “Then you don’t get to talk at all, baby girl. Gotta save whatever pieces of your daddy’s girl I can now that I know you take cock like this. My cock. Bet you want me to come inside too, huh?”

You groan and nod, salivating into Joel’s palm. It shouldn’t turn you on, but the idea of him spilling inside of you and the fear of what could come next… it sends a thrill shooting up your spine. Testing the waters, you push back into him and the noise that it pulls from the back of his throat is worth a tacky porcelain dolphin shattering on the floor.

With the splintering of the little figurine, Joel’s hand on your mouth pushes into you harder and he eventually has you upright. You still have both palms on your desk, arms stretched to help Joel keep you from falling over again. The front of your thighs burn as the edge of the table digs into them, creating a red line across them with each forceful move of Joel’s hips.

You say something, but it’s muffled. Yet Joel guesses right without any explanation, hand on your hip coming around your front to find your clit and using two fingers to coax your orgasm closer. You feel a fire pool between your thighs, eyes rolling back into your skull as you near the edge.

When you come, Joel groans along with you. He feels your pussy starting to pulse around his length, each drag of your walls sending him dangling on the brink of his own little death. He speeds up, lets go of your mouth to grip the edge of the desk and slam into you.

“Gonna fill up that sweet cunt, watch you panic when you get bred like a slut,” he says through gritted teeth, and you wail as you try to get his hand away from your over sensitive nub that he has yet to let go off. He rubs you in earnest, has you screaming as he forces another high out of you that sucks him harder into you and makes him come inside of you.

He will never admit how turned on the idea of you being late next month has you, but he makes sure that you milk every damn drop of his release with little care of the future horror it might bring.

That’s when the sound of a door opening and closing sounds from downstairs. It sends you into an absolute panic, pushing back into him and Joel grunting, but then pulling out of you hurriedly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you swear despite what he has just told you, pulling up your underwear and jeans without any consideration for Joel’s come eventually making a mess of them. You should pee, wash yourself and splash cold water onto your face to cover up what you have just done but there’s no time.

Joel dresses as well beside you. He seems a little calmer, but he can feel his heart nearly beating out of his chest. This was a bad choice. A really, really bad decision from his side. He would apologize if he felt sorry though.

Quickly, the both of you descend from the stairs and into the kitchen. Your father is there, a puzzled look on his face as he sees the two of you together.

“Hey,” you try to sound cool and collected, “Mr. Miller just came over to borrow the car keys but we couldn’t find them.”

“Shit, was that today?” Your dad goes around the kitchen island and into the hallway. He fishes out the keys from a bowl on the side table in there, “Sorry, Joel. I coulda sworn it was tomorrow.”

“No problem,” he holds his hands up in surrender, showing no harm inflicted, “I’ll be back later tonight.”

“Here ya go.”

“Thanks,” he catches them as your dad throws them across the kitchen, “See ya later.”

He leaves without any more words, but he also leaves you with a shame that you never thought you could feel as you feel his come slide out of you and into your panties. You don’t even hear your dad asking you the first time about what you want for dinner.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #the last of us #joel x reader #joel x you #my writing #pedro pascal characters #joel miller smut #pedro pascal smut #the last of us fanfiction #tlou hbo #joel the last of us #joel tlou #asks #dbf!joel

1K notes · View notes

dr-spectre · 6 months ago

Text

Rambling about Marina and Relatability...

I've said in the past that i relate heavily to Marie, but as i think about it further.... I think i relate more to Marina... I just read through this incredible twitter thread by @ _CSenpai_ which i shall leave at the end, but it got me to really think... "huh... Marina is kinda me fr." (Also I'm gonna get pretty personal in this post so keep that in mind too.)

Marina has very serious special interests and clearly spends a lot of time researching and engaging in these interests. She gets VERY excited when someone mentions anything remotely about her interests and takes them seriously. Which is something i do as if someone even remotely mentions Splatoon out of the blue, my chest will go "BZZZTTTT" and i get the tingles and i wanna run around my room.

She's very into machinery, video games, music and manga/comic books. Marina stays up and overworks herself when it comes to music and her interests, which is shown in the dev diaries and chat logs in Side Order and Octo Expansion. This is something i tend to do as well as I consume my special interests way into the night and i can't go to bed because I'm so damn energized. Sometimes i become so focused that i don't even notice that time has passed by for so long and before i even realise it... It's 2pm and now i want lunch.

She corrects Pearl on wizards which reminds me of the kind of stuff i say during my rambles about Callie and her arc in Splatoon 2... I get VERY picky when it comes to people using ahem.... certain words when describing the events that took place.

In the Hero vs. Villain Splatfest, she is the only one who is taking it very seriously while everyone else is smiling or expressing anger.

She's using a god damn GAMECUBE CONTROLLER AND A HEADSET! She's literally me oh my god. When i go over for parties and celebrations and someone brings out a Switch and we play Smash Bros or Mario Kart? I take that shit seriously and i can't tone back my skill level and just have fun.

Also Marina is known to have sensitivity to certain food textures including mayo and pulp in orange juice. Now i LOVE mayo personally but i HATEEEE stuff in my drinks. I am a massive texture eater and i will avoid stuff in food that ruins the texture. When i get pumpkin soup for example, if i see vegetable bits in that shit i will actually feel sick and flick the bits off of my spoon.

Marina is also seen stimming and pacing back and forth when excited. When i tend to get overly excited by myself, i will literally violently shake for a brief moment and then squeal. I'm not joking.

Marina also tends to bottle up her emotions and often lashes out onto others when it's too much for her. Which is something i tend to do... I don't often say how i feel when someone asks how am i and i often wanna scream and break something when the anger is just too much for me to contain. I end up yelling by myself and cuss like no tomorrow. I can find solace in a character who does a similar thing i do, minus the cussing lmao.

I think one of the bigger reasons on why i relate to Marina is gonna be a weird one but... She is almost always seen with her headphones. No matter what situation she is in, she always wears her headphones.

Even when she's Marina Agitando and Overlorder has taken over her body, the Controller VM acts like headphones as it covers her ears!

Now this detail about her wearing her headphones almost often might seem minor, but to me it makes me love Marina even more. I always constantly wear headphones and it's due to various different reasons. First is because i love listening to music and enjoying background noise, second, it dampens the sounds around me as i can be pretty sensitive to certain sounds. And third... well... let's just say that i live with a uh.... loud parent who... gets pretty angry, NOT AT ME! THANKFULLY! BUT... when they scream... and swear... i put on my headphones and wait for the noise to go by. It's a comfort thing for me and helps get through those... rough periods... Marina wearing those headphones often and not being judged for it, makes me feel, happy...

...uh... yeah.

ANYWAYS! Another big thing i relate with Marina on is her want for order and balance in her life. She doesn't like massive changes in her routine and wants to maintain the balance in her life.

i do not like it when my routine suddenly changes and i get upset and angry. I have a strict routine and when it gets fucked over oh MAN OH MANNNN!!!!!!!!!!!

And that last point about feeling safe and secure, as i mentioned earlier with the third point about wearing headphones... I wanna feel safe and secure... I want to feel calm... I don't want someone to suddenly shout or get upset or for my routine to change and i can't do anything about it...

The only thing i don't relate with Marina on is well... Looks. Listen, i ain't no tall black octopus woman with a noticeable figure and a pretty face HAHAHAHA! I find it kind of funny that I'm able to relate SO MUCH to someone like her when I'm some 20 year old dude who looks nowhere NEAR like her. Except for maybe height i don't know.

However, i will say, i actually don't act this excited in person, i tend to be very shy and reserved in person compared to my online behaviour. I say words in a dry manner and i don't have the best social skills. So i guess that's where the relatability for Marie comes in as well. I'm a heavy introvert and despite my need for wanting to connect to others, i would rather stay indoors than go out and meet new people to start friendships or potentially a romantic relationship... like that's ever gonna happen anyways...................

I got two brain cells. It's them.

So anyways, that was all i wanted to say! I love Marina and she's my second favourite Idol, you can probably guess who's number 1 but i ain't talking about... her... well not today anyways.

Thanks for reading!!!

The thread that inspired this blog post: https://x.com/_CSenpai_/status/1367219374948376579

187 notes · View notes

gaymaramada · 1 year ago

Text

Rise! Boys with a S/O that has a bad swearing habit:

Leonardo

Lowkey encourages it.

He just thinks it’s really funny how shamelessly you throw the “forbidden words” out there.

Will bust out laughing when you casually tell someone to fuck off.

When you describe it as a bad habit, though, he pulls back a bit.

Offers the idea to replace any swears with random words in Spanish.

(That’s what he does.

He never actually swears in Spanish, though.

It’s pretty funny.)

Will absolutely let you be a bad influence on him, much to the others’ dismay.

“What the fuck was up with that guy at Hueso’s the other night?”

“Yeah, what a shithead.”

“HEY—”

*Dramatic gasp*

“No, no, let him cook—”

Donatello

…. Okay? What of it?

He honestly doesn’t care.

Words are words.

He tends to cycle between his innocent dessert-inspired swears to the most vile combinations of letters to ever grace the planet.

It’s like Russian roulette.

Oh the rants you two will fall into.

Venting to one another brings enough curses to the world that it would have the members of Witch Town shaking.

Overall, he’s pretty indifferent to it, but if it’s bothering you, he’ll do his best to assist.

Though as someone who has his own bad habits, it’s less of him helping you and more of you leaning on each other.

It can become a bit competitive, though.

“Quit biting your nails, you’re gonna fuck them up.”

“Keep yourself from swearing for the next five minutes and I’ll consider it.”

Raphael

Oh the poor sweet thing.

Literally the “no more saying cuss words guys! 😨 it’s inappropriate and violent! 😖” kid.

He loves you, but he’s pretty uncomfortable by how often you swear.

He softened up a bit when you explained it wasn’t entirely voluntary.

He knows what it’s like to lose control sometimes, mild or severe.

He gets you a chewing stim toy to bite down on whenever you feel the urge to swear, as he had a similar method when he was younger and adjusting to his strong jaw.

Will absolutely glare at you if you’re about to curse.

“Oh, fu—”

“🤨”

“uuuuuuuuudgesicles. Fudgesicles.”

“😊”

Overall, he’s very supportive.

Michelangelo

So here’s the thing.

Mikey is no stranger to swearing.

In fact he probably has the foulest mouth in the family with Donnie as a close second.

He gets away with it because:

A. Youngest privilages

B. No one expects it from him

C. Dr. Delicate Touch

He also keeps his swearing to a minimum around his brothers (cough cough Raph cough).

But when you two are together, all Hell breaks loose.

His behavior does switch when he learns that you recognize it as a bad habit, and suddenly you find yourself in a Dr. Feelings seminar.

He helps you find alternative vocal stims to use instead of swearing that still hold enough bite to be satisfactory.

He practices these with you for his own sake as well, so similarly to Donnie, the two of you lean on each other.

If the situation calls for it, however…

“DID YOU STEAL MY FUCKING PINK STAR???”

“Noooo ☺️”

“…..”

“I’m gonna fucking skin you—”

#cw swearing #rottmnt #rottmnt hc #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #leonardo hamato #donatello hamato #raphael hamato #michelangelo hamato #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt imagines

675 notes · View notes

artofhazbinhotel · 9 months ago

Text

Hazbin hotel headcannons

I think Valentino is genderfluid and just doesn't know it

Vox is autistic and stims by jumping up and down or picking people up, his hyperfixation is sharks (I'm autistic)

Vox isn't a picky eater but his favorite thing to eat is burgers, he isn't a good cook though so he makes others do it for him

The reason Adam always folds his wings at his sides is to make himself look skinnier

Charlie has hyper empathy and that's why she struggles so much with accepting some people just can't be helped (I understand this)

Alastor has ASPD, not because he's a serial killer, that's a horrible stereotype, but because his emotions are limited and he has trouble understanding others so even if someone is his friend he might unintentionally hurt their feelings, his sadism has absolutely nothing to do with the not caring about most, maybe it's because he likes seeing so clearly what the other person feels? Rosie is one of the only people he genuinely cares about (my boyfriend has this and agrees)

Vox has NPD, it can cause extreme jealousy when your ego feels attacked, and the reason he humiliated himself on TV was that exact reason, feeling worse, Alastor has probably sent him into a narc crash several times but most of it as spent on a high, it stems from low self esteem masked with pride and indifference (my boyfriend has NPD and agrees)

Now for the controversial one that I still agree with, I think Valentino has BPD, people have said that Bipolar or NPD is also an option but saying NPD feels like just feeding into narc abuse claims. As for bipolar, the difference between BPD and bipolar is the length of episodes, BPD has rapid mood swings while bipolar ups and downs can last months, we see Valentino switch up his emotions within seconds constantly. BPD can also cause anger, jealousy, and obsession, I think angel is his FP and that's why he immediately assumed he's abandoned the second he moves out and flies into a rage and why he has the need to always have control over him (I have BPD)

Angel is hypersexual as a result of his trauma and I know people shit on the portrayal of how he acts but not every single SA survivor becomes sex repulsed, some have the opposite reaction where they intentionally sexualize themselves because they think that's all they're good for or that if they aren't doing that they're doing something wrong, I like that there's finally representation for that, characters who are overly sexual flirts don't usually have a psychological explanation

Lucifer is autistic and bad at social cues, his hyperfixation is ducks. He also has depression that stemmed from his divorce

Velvette is bisexual

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel the vees #rosie hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel lucifer #valentino headcanons #vox hazbin hotel #charlie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #alastor hazbin hotel #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rosie

130 notes · View notes

pezberrywhoreee · 10 months ago

Text

regina x cady smut drabble!!! 'brain-dead'

pairing: dom!regina george x sub!cady heron

words: 550

content warning: harddom!regina, puppysub!cady, bdsm, d/s dynamic, orgasm torture, overstimulation, mommy kink, use of "puppy", degradation, mocking, spit play, pussy slapping, clit stim, implied corruption

summary: she knows she can't take it, but with the girl so deep in her mind there's no other option

"Can you do another one for mommy?". The blonde purred with a mocking tone, trying to control her need to laugh at the leading question.

Regina could tell that her brain was only mush after the five other orgasms that Cady was forced to take.

The blonde allowed herself to chuckle as Cady nodded mindlessly, her head lolling with her eyes fighting to not roll into the depths of her fucked out brain. The conscious part of her knew that she couldn't take it but the blonde was so deep in her mind that nothing else mattered in that moment.

The blonde continued to switch between bringing her palm down against the girls cunt and firmly rubbing her calloused thumb into the girls raw, aching clit.

"Fucking answer", Regina growled before bringing her face closer to the girls cunt and letting a thick string of spit fall against the mess that was her pussy. A smirk pulled at her lips as she felt hips push up beneath her.

Even in her fucked out state she still practically begged for any of the abuse that the blonde had to give. Regina was revelling in how brain dead the girl was slowly becoming in their relationship.

"...please, mommy—". Cady whimpered, using every ounce of energy that she had left to give the blonde what she wanted.

Regina gave a groany hum in response to the plea as she continued her assault on the girls cunt. She raked her nails down the length of the smaller girls torso, scoffing when petite hips jumped under her touch.

"Ow, mommy, ow— fuck". Cady felt tears start to form in her eyes as she was forced to buck into the blondes touch, inflicting this uncontrollable pain on herself.

"You can't help yourself to save your life, can you puppy? You can force me out of your head whenever you want...but you don't seem to want that. Look at that, you're fucking yourself on my fingers! I'm not even doing anything".

Regina pushed, knowing that the the girl was too far gone to realise that she was manipulating the truth.

A familiar shake started to settle in Cady's thighs, her breathing picking up and her cries turning into mumbles and unintelligible pleas.

"Thank y—thank you, ow—it hurts, mommy", the smaller girl whined as her she tried to back away from the fingers pressing into her swollen clit.

"Ow, it hurts mommy~" Regina mocked lowly, causing an obscene moan to leave Cady's throat. Regina chuckled at her depravity "you're unbelievable". She made sure to keep the current rhythm and intensity behind her fingers as she heard the telltale sign of moans increasing in pitch.

"'m coming". Cady was pushed over the edge with one last bite to her inner thigh and an encouraging "good pup~" from below.

Regina gently let the girl ride out her orgasm before pulling away and wrapping her arms around her thighs and giving soft kisses to her reddened cunt. She gave her kittenish licks, cleaning her up as softly as possible.

"You want another one, baby?" The blonde teased as she rested her head on Cady's pelvis, a hand reaching up to caress her exhausted face.

"Mommy~". Cady whined with a tired smile, her tired eyes staring into hungry blue ones.

#regina george #this was a two minute fantasy that tunred into a whole situation #so there's that #cady heron #cady x regina #mean girls 2024 #mean girls broadway #mean girls #drabble #smuttt #pezberrywhoreee kink #pezberrywhoreee #bd/sm kink #its kinda cute at the end #reneé rapp #angourie rice #i hope that was in character?

97 notes · View notes

kingsillystimmy · 13 days ago

Text

Nintendo Switch + Rainbow Kandi Stims 🌈💫

#Nintendo #Nintendo Switch #Switch #Kandi #Rainbow #Stims #gif #stim #my gifs #gifs #blue joycon #red joycon #real life recording #console #controller

18 notes · View notes

noodle-shenaniganery · 1 year ago

Text

I think one of the big issues with autism representation is largely that we don’t get that many autistic characters in media. It’s impossible to represent the entire spectrum in one character. And oftentimes, even when we do get representation, it’s the same types of characters over and over again. The spectrum is broad! It’s chaotic! Almost any representation could hypothetically reflect someone’s experiences, so why keep using the same few archetypes repeatedly? There are so many ways an autistic character could be written. Look, here’s some:

- A nonverbal autistic character with the power to manipulate plants who often uses plants to communicate (e.g. grows cacti when upset, dandelions when happy, roses when they like someone/something, orchids when confused, etc.). They also use plants to move around, grab things, point, etc. due to significantly impaired motor control.

- A nonspeaking, physically disabled autistic character with strabismus who is the ‘tech genius’ of the group. They often can’t go on missions themself because of their disability, but are completely fine with providing the rest with the gadgets, advice, and the occasional Dad Joke™️.

- The ghost of an autistic person who keeps trying to make friends with the new residents of their home, but doesn’t understand social rules at all and keeps accidentally scaring people by appearing/saying things without notice. They also stim by yelling, singing, and moving (things) around, which understandably freaks people out.

- A blind, semispeaking autistic teenager whose special interest is music, and their life mostly revolves around music. They mostly speak in song quotes, and are trying to learn how to play as many instruments as possible. They switch between different mobility aids that help them get around (they are dynamically disabled from their Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome), from crutches to wheechairs. They could also try to be in their school’s music club and/or orchestra, while also dealing with high school shenanigans.

- An autistic adult who, after decades of going undiagnosed, is now adjusting to life knowing that they’re not broken, just different. They also have comorbid mental illnesses, partially as a result of their late diagnosis.

There you go. There’s some ideas.

(If anyone uses these, please tag me or let me know, I’d love to read some stories with these.)

181 notes · View notes

electrikworm · 17 days ago

Text

Test Subjects: Part 9

previous next

Relationships: Crosshair & Echo & Hunter & Tech & Wrecker

Content Warnings: Blood and injury, Stitches, Abuse, Clone Trooper Dehumanization

Summary:

Hunter finally gets medical treatment, even if the doctor is far from careful as he tends to the Sargent.

Word count: 3’738

Read on Ao3

Despite the exhaustion, Hunter can barely sit still. His heart pounds in his chest, Hunter taps his fingers against the firm mattress. It's always cold in medbays, but it feels freezing in this one. Hunter can't stop the tremors that wrack his body. The shaking of course only serves to irritate his wounds further. It's starting to really annoy Hunter, how little control he has over his own body.

Being done with helping Echo, Ceta's moved to constantly be bustling around the room. After getting Echo a set of the white medical sleepwear medbay's stock and helping him put them on, he starts doing small clean up and restock tasks, switching out empty disinfectant bottles and restocking the medical supply boxes each medbay room has.

The clothes look large on Echo, still thin after his time as a prisoner of war. He's certainly gained weight since then, but his frame is still narrower than it should be. Ceta brought Hunter a change of clothes too, but those will have to wait until Hunter is treated.

Hunter pokes the bandages wrapping his thigh, hissing through his clenched teeth at the contact. Despite Ceta's best efforts, splotches of red already shine through the white fabric.

Falling asleep would be ideal. It's hard to worry when you're unconscious. But Hunter can't possible sleep, despite how worn out he is. He can't stop thinking about his brothers and wouldn't possibly want to miss any news they might get on them. Tech isn't back from his report either.

Hunter's blacks do little against the cold of medbay, not being the thermal ones used for extreme temperatures. The uncomfortable beds and his aching body do little to make Hunter's experience more comfortable either, neither does the fear clawing away behind his ribs like a rabid animal.

Silence hangs between him and Echo. Hunter would love to do something to break it, but can't think of anything good to say. He's not good at this kind of thing, not knowing what words are the right ones or what action would improve the situation. Hunter look over to Echo ever so often, hoping his ori'vod will speak.

He's so occupied with staring into space that he doesn't notice Ceta standing at his side until the medic clears his throat. When Hunter looks at him, Ceta smiles.

“You look cold,” he says, holding out a gray blanket.

Thanking him, Hunter accepts the item. Ceta helps spread it across Hunter's legs evenly, allowing the Sargent to avoid moving too much.

“Sorry I can't help more,” Ceta says, standing up straight beside the bed.

“You've done plenty,” Hunter responds, rubbing the fabric of the blanket between his fingers. It's rough, but doesn't catch on Hunter's skin like some of the thinner GAR blankets do. Hunter's still shaking, but the blanket is an instant relief against the cold air.

Ceta nods, quickly hurrying off to get Echo a blanket too.

“I want to contact Kix,” Echo says, not looking over at Hunter. “He should know if dangerous substances like these stims are in circulation.”

“Should be easy enough to do so through Tech's datapad once he's back,” Hunter replies. He'd certainly welcome the distraction.

Before Echo joined them, Hunter didn't know any members of the 501st well. Their squad has a tendency to get in trouble with regs, at least as soon as they're in larger groups.

Crosshair rubs everyone the wrong way, as can Tech, though he doesn't do so on purpose. And large groups of clones always have a few that have stuck to the idea that genetic variation among clones is bad that the Kaminoans drilled into them. Even among those not against defective clones, there was often avoidance when it came to Clone Force 99. Also doesn't help that their squad has a very particular way they like to do things that doesn't mix well with working with too many who aren't part of the dynamic.

Cody and a few troopers of the 212th were some of the only regs they could get along with for a long while. But Echo has brothers he cares for is the 501st, ones he wanted to talk to. Through that, the four original members of Clone Force 99 got to know them too.

Hunter would really enjoy a conversation with Kix, even if he'd likely have to talk about what happened during the mission. It'd be better than just sitting there, alone with his thought, wondering if he'll ever see his youngest brothers again.

A beeping noise alerts Hunter, making his eyes flick to the source. Ceta has a commlink in his hand, reading a message off of it. He turns to look at Hunter.

“Someone will be here to treat you in a second along with your vod,” Ceta says, enunciate the Mando'a word slightly different than Hunter had learned it from 99. The young medic is radiating stress, Hunter can smell it from across the room. Ceta rushes to a closet in the wall, getting out a white overcoat. With the item of clothing in hand, Ceta hurries out of the medbay door.

With his improved hearing, Hunter can hear clearly what happens outside the door. Ceta greets someone, addressing them as “doctor” and announcing that he got him his coat. He then introduces himself, same as he did to Echo, most likely to Tech. With that, the three of them come through the sliding door.

Just in time for Hunter to catch the doctor, a blue twi'lek he recognizes, hitting Ceta across the back of the head. The doctor is a good head shorter than the clone medic, but he's determined enough to reach up to do so.

“This isn't a nail salon, stop introducing yourself to every kriffing clone,” the twi'lek hisses, pulling on the overcoat Ceta handed him.

“Sorry sir,” Ceta mumbles, immediately matching the doctors pace. Ceta leads Tech to an empty bed on Hunter's other side before joining the doctor at Hunter's bed.

This close, Hunter can read the name tag on the twi'lek's overcoat. According to it, the doctor is called Louis Pak. The name rings a bell, though Hunter is more accustomed with how he looks than his name. If Hunter isn't wrong, he remembers doctor Pak being quite a piece of work. Even without past experiences, Hunter can tell he's right by the way he acts towards Ceta, who looks nervous just standing next to him.

“What's this?” the doctor says, pinching a corner of the blanket covering Hunter's legs.

“A blanket, sir,” Ceta responds, sounding like he isn't quite sure about his answer.

The twi'lek glares at him. “I'm well aware of what it is. Why is it here?”

“He was cold, so I brought it to him, sir” Ceta answers, voice trailing off.

“Let me ask you something,” Pak says, laughing to himself. “Is CT-9901 your patient?”

Hunter can already see where this is going and he doesn't like it. Ceta's heart is racing, Hunter's positive he could hear it from two rooms over it's so loud.

“No, doctor Pak,” Ceta says, looking anywhere but at the doctor. His eyes lock briefly with Hunters. “He's your patient. I am not authorized to work with experimental clones.”

“Exactly,” Pak says with a self-satisfied smirk. He makes a beckoning motion with one hand and Ceta immediately complies, taking a step towards the doctor and leaning down. As soon as he does this, the doctor grabs a fistful of Ceta's hair and yanks downwards, forcing the medics face to almost touch his.

Hunter lurches forwards on instinct, ready to pull the natborn off Ceta. A quick hand gesture from Ceta, asking Hunter to stay away, stops him from doing so. Looking to his vode, Hunter realizes that Tech and Echo reacted in much the same way.

“You think you're better than me, clone?” the twi'lek hisses in an almost sweet tone. “Smarter? Better at the job?” Ceta pulls a face as the doctor tightens his grip, shaking his head vigorously.

“Never, sir,” Ceta says, voice calm despite his demeanour saying otherwise.

“Then why do you insist on messing with my patients?” Pak raises his voice enough to hurt Hunters ears.

“I just thought-” Ceta starts, interrupted by the doctor grabbing his face with his free hand.

“That's your problem. Despite that empty head of yours, you insist on trying to think for me.” The twi'lek lets go of Ceta's face to flick his forehead for emphasis. Letting go of Ceta's hair too, Pak shoves him backwards, making the medic stumble to stay upright.

“Sorry sir,” Ceta says, immediately going back to standing at attention at the doctor's side. Pak rolls his eyes, moving his leku over his shoulder before holding a hand out towards Ceta. Wordlessly, the medic deposits a pair of gloves in the doctors palm.

Pulling them on, the twi'lek orders Ceta to run a scanner over Hunter and show him the result.

Pak clicks his tongue as he waits, looking at Hunter. “No need to look at me like that, CT-9901. You might want to stop giving the man responsible for your health such dirty looks.” he huffs.

Hunter hadn't been aware of the displeased expression that crossed his face. Whilst he gives the doctor a court fake smile, he doesn't waste any energy managing his expression. The twi'lek shakes his head.

Ceta holds the screen of the scanner up for doctor Pak to look at. He hums in thought as he reeds the screen.

“The blaster wound in his thigh needs stitches, but his shoulder's just been grazed. He'll need fluids too and a blood transfusion would be a good idea. Other than that, mainly bruising.” Ceta nods along as the doctor speaks, clearly having figured all this out from the scan he did of Hunter long before Pak even got there.

When he's done speaking, the doctor takes a moment to stare at Ceta.

“Well what are you waiting for? Get moving!” Pak snaps, throwing his hands in the air. Ceta flinches at the motion, going very stiff. Almost like he's bracing. Hunter had seen the same reaction from his brothers many times, had reacted the same way to trainers raising their voices at him. A nasty reflex you pick up when trainers get a free pass to hit you when ever they like.

Ceta nods, quickly distancing himself from Pack. He moves to another room, though the door remains open so Hunter can clearly hear him looking through shelves and cupboards as well as ask for a bag of blood to be prepared for them over his comlink.

In the meantime, the doctor moves to examining Hunter's leg closer. Without a warning, he roughly moves the limb closer to the edge of the bed, making Hunter inhale sharply at the spike of pain.

“Hold still,” the doctor hisses like he's talking to a misbehaving child. Hunter still squirms at the hands on his leg. Through the bandages, the twi'lek feels about the area of the wound, really making Hunter want to push him off. “Turn onto your side,” he orders, insistently patting Hunter's knee just below the injury.

Reluctantly, Hunter does as told. Stiffly, he shifts on the bed to expose his wound to the doctor. Holding his head up hurts, so Hunter lets it rest on the bed. Laying the way he is now, Hunter's looking over at Echo's bed.

The ARC trooper is sitting upright, swaying slightly, but staring directly at Hunter and the doctor without looking away for a second. His brows are knitted together tightly, lip curled upwards on the right into something close to a snarl. He's gripping the edge of the mattress with his hand, scarred knuckles pale from the force of his grip.

Even with all his prosthetics removed, clothed in plain clothes that hang off his body a little too loosely, Echo still has a dangerous quality to him. If Hunter didn't know the sentiment was reserved for the doctor, he'd be a little worried himself.

Ceta comes back with a tray and places it on an adjustable table on Pak's right. Hunter can't see what's on it, but heard Ceta place a variety of items on it, ranging from metallic, to sounding like flimsi and plastic.

“Who cut his blacks?” the twi'lek asks, narrowing his eyes in Ceta's direction.

“I did,” Echo speaks up before anyone else can, a relived look crossing Ceta's expression as he does. Despite the concussion, Echo's words come out strong and clear. “I disinfected the blaster wound and covered it in bacta too.”

A huffed laugh escapes the doctor. “I take it you bandaged it as well?” he mocks.

“Yes,” Echo responds. Whilst he didn't this time, the job he'd done on the Marauder wasn't any worse than what Ceta did.

“With one hand?” Pak asks, clearly amused. Hunter doesn't share the sentiment. Echo could likely kill the doctor without any of his prosthetics on, wrapping a wound is nothing in comparison. The twi'lek's lack of faith in Echo is disgusting.

“Yes,” Echo says, voice neutral.

“Sure,” the doctor says, rolling his eyes. Echo lets it go without any comment, but his stare fixed on the twi'lek seems to only intensify.

“Lets get this over with,” the doctor mutters, fishing a bandage scissor from the tray Ceta prepared for him. Putting a firm hand on Hunter's leg below the end of the bandages, the doctor aligns the edge of the scissors with the fabric wrapped around Hunter's thigh.

When he begins to cut the bandages, he slides the scissors flush along Hunter's skin, dragging the lower blade through the blaster wound. Hunter gasp, sharp pain in his leg bringing tears to the Sargent's eyes as he tries to breath through it. He recoils away from the horrible sensation on instinct, jerking his leg out of the doctor's grip, turning halfway onto his front to shield the injury from further harm.

Hunter's only guess is that the doctor did so on purpose. Why else would he chose to cut through the area in the bandage that clearly had to most blood soaked into it.

The twi'lek isn't too pleased about Hunter squirming away from him. The doctor lacks strength, so trying to force Hunter to turn around through brute force doesn't work out very well. But Hunter should have guessed that he wouldn't give up that easily.

The next time Pak tries to flip Hunter, he brings his hand down hard on Hunter's half bandaged blaster wound.

Hunter's vision goes white for a moment, struggling to breath as he's forced to follow the doctors movement in a desperate effort to lessen the pain. He can't even tell if he cries out or not, ears ringing as a violent wave of nausea hits him. The Sargent is forced to bite into the side of his hand, both in an effort to prevent himself from gagging and to serve as a distraction from the blinding pain.

When Hunter's vision clears slightly and his breath comes a little easier, he hears his brothers voices, still seeming distant.

“What kind of medic acts like that?” That's Echo's voice, raised in anger. Hunter lets his head fall to the side Echo's on. His ori'vod is leaning forwards, gesturing furiously with his hand. Tech says something too, or at least tries to. His voice breaks and he starts to cough weakly somewhere to Hunter's other side.

“The way I treat my patients is none of your business, clone,” Pak hisses, tightening his grip over Hunter's wound. A pathetic pained whine manages to escape Hunter's lips despite his best efforts to hold it back, tears stinging his eyes.

Hunter tries to glare at the doctor, which is remarkably hard to do when he can barely lift his head off the bed to look at him. The doctor just stares back, increasing the pressure on Hunter's leg further. Hunter knows this isn't a battle he can win without making the situation worse.

Then Ceta suddenly steps into view, grabbing Pak's writs. “Sir, he is bleeding. You are risking the patients life with your actions.”

Heavy silence falls upon the medbay as the doctor slowly turns to look at Ceta. Hunter swears he could sense the tension in the room like electricity if he could only focus a little better. The foreboding energy is quickly and violently released as Pak brings the back of his gloves hand across Ceta's face hard. The loud snap of the impact seems to echo about the room as Ceta stumbles backwards but keeps upright.

The doctor swears at him in twi'lek, Hunter only knowing a small section of the words he uses. Predictably, none of them are nice. “Make yourself useful and go collect that blood for CT-9901,” Pak shouts. “The longer I have to look at you now, the worse things will get for you.”

Ceta nods. “Sorry sir, I'll get right on it.” He walks a little too fast when he makes his way out of the medbay, gone before Hunter can get a real look at him.

The doctor keeps muttering curses under his breath, letting go of Hunter's leg to change his gloves for a clean pair. Hunter can't see Tech, view blocked by Pak, but Echo's sitting in silence now, eyebrows drawn together as he stares down the doctor.

There's nothing any of them can say that would help the situation. People like this natborn are just best to be avoided, though none of them can do so right now.

Hunter's not stupid, he notices that Pak uses less numbing spray than he should on the Sargent's leg. In addition to that, he only does so after he's disinfect the wound again, leaving Hunter to experience the entire process of the twi'lek dragging disinfectant soaked gauze along his raw skin.

The wounds is far from numb by the time Pax presses the torn edges of skin together and pushes a needle through. Hunter has to force himself not to squirm as he breathes in short, shallow gasps as the doctor sews his leg. One stitch after the other is put in his skin, each individually tied off to prevent Hunter from ripping them all out if one broke.

Pak wastes no more time than strictly necessary on the wound, hastily covering it in a bit of bacta and bandaging it when he's done. By then Ceta is back. The reg says nothing as he hooks the transfusion to Hunter's arm, barely daring to glance at him or the doctor. A bruise is blooming on his cheek.

The doctor spends even less time on Hunter's shoulder. He orders Hunter to get the top of his blacks off, then the wound is disinfected and wrapped. Pak glances at Hunter's bruises too, but doesn't offer up any bacta for those. When he moves on to Tech, Hunter is left feeling no better than he did before. The doctor didn't even give him anything against the pain.

With Pak's back turned, Ceta takes a moment to help Hunter lay down more comfortably. He whispers an apology before backing away.

The bandages on Hunter's leg and arm are driving him crazy. There's so little bacta between the fabric and the wounds that Hunter's left to feel every fibre of the material rubbing against it constantly. If he wasn't already stressed to his absolute limit by the fact Crosshair and Wrecker are dying, this would be enough for Hunter to be left on edge constantly.

Tech is treated no gentler than Hunter was, the doctor grabbing at Tech in ways Hunter know make his vod'ika uncomfortable the entire time. Pak even pins Tech's head to the bed whilst he examines Tech's neck. Tech's visibly fighting to not squirm at the touch the entire time.

The doctor is about to leave when Ceta calls after him. “Sir, you've forgotten to give CT-9901 and CT-9902 painkillers,” he states, voice firm despite the way his heart beats and his hands shake behind his back.

The doctor snaps around with fire in his eyes. “I haven't forgotten anything,” he spits. “I'm clearly not done yet, am I?”

Hunter almost laughs bitterly. The doctor was almost out of the medbay door and clearly had no intention of turning back if Ceta hadn't pointed out his likely purposeful oversight. Pak huffs as he trudges back to the beds with an irritated pout on his face. He doesn't warn either of them before sticking the hypo needle in their skin.

“We're discussion your behaviour later,” Pak snaps as he passes Ceta on his way out of medbay. The young medic sighs when the doctor is gone, rubbing at his face. Ceta brings Tech a blanket too, before disappearing without a word.

“How are you feeling?” Hunter asks Tech. Thick bandages cover his neck, exhaustion in Tech's expression as he looks over at Hunter.

Tech doesn't speak, he just uses the signs they developed over the years. He signs one word; Bad. Hunter can't help but laugh weakly.

“I can believe that,” he sighs, running his hand across the blanket covering his legs. Hunter feels cold and sore, wounds aggravated by the shiver that runs through his body. Tech seems to catch on, quickly hopping off his own bed. Hunter's about to tell his vod to stay put and rest when he notices what Tech's up to.

He undoes the breaks keeping the bed he was on in place and begins pushing it towards Hunter's. Once they're side to side, Tech fastens the breaks again. He does the same with Echo's, that time with Echo still on it.

“Don't overdo it,” Echo warns him. Hunter can see the way Tech's arms shake too, but Tech just waves off with one hand. He's relieved when Tech finally climbs into his bed again. Silently, he offers to let Hunter lean into his side. Not saying anything either, Hunter accepts. The warmth of his brother at his side does a lot to still the tremors tormenting Hunter.

“Can we use your datapad to call Kix?” Hunter asks Tech after a moment of silence. It's far too quiet for Hunter's liking, the silence only serving to make him worry about Cross and Wrecker more. Tech nods, carefully placing the device in Hunter's lap.

Moving to lean against Hunter's other side, Echo enters Kix's comm-code on the datapad.

Mando'a Translation:

Ori'vod - older sibling Vod/vode – sibling/siblings Vod'ika – little sibling (affectionate)

#tbb #tbb hunter #tbb echo #tbb tech #hunter whump #clone oc #oc ceta #cw blood #tbb fanfiction #Sorry this ended up being centred around my oc for more than intended I just love him

24 notes · View notes