#I have no children. I have a health condition that would make it dangerous to have children. So I have a big dog | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pyrondeeznutz · 9 months

Text

Ticci Toby Headcanons

PT.01

Toby Rogers past, upbringing, pre-proxy headcanons. See proxy era headcanons here ⬇️

CW: Slight mentions of animal abuse, domestic violence, psychosis, bullying, car crash, gore

<NOTE> Im a psychology nerd so I tried to make it as realistic as possible. This is my first time doing anything like this but I have a lot of thoughts about Tobys character. Its not proofread so ignore any typos or grammatical errors. Also… its very long… I have… so many thoughts…

BIOGRAPHY .

PATIENT NAME: Tobias (Toby) Erin Rogers

BIRTHDATE: April 28th, 1994

AGE: Currently 19 years old

HC/EC: Brown hair, brown eyes

ETHNICITY: White American

BIRTHPLACE: Denver, Colorado

FAMILY: Connie Rogers (mother), Dan Rogers (Father), Lyra Rogers (sister)

DIAGNOSIS: Congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis (CIPA), Tourettes Syndrome, Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), Bipolar Disorder (Type 1, psychotic)

THE GURNEY .

Toby was in and out of hospitals from a very young age due to his wide range of physical and mental health concerns

His earliest memory was when, at age 4, he hit his head after falling onto cement and didn’t cry, scream, or even really acknowledge that he was hurt

After seeing the bloody mess her young child was in, Connie ran Toby to the hospital where tests were ran to determine what caused his lack of pain response

Finally at age 8, Toby was diagnosed with CIPA. This condition not only prevented his brain from generating a pain response but also responses to extreme temperatures (frostbite, heat burn, etc)

Due to these dangerous health issues, and his neurotic mother, Toby was put in homeschooling from a very early age. Connie was too protective of her son to allow him to go out on his own at his age

His earliest memories revolved around roaming hospital halls, his parents fighting over medical bills, being talked to by social workers and doctors, having tests done, minor surgeries, etc.

DEAR OLD DAD .

Dan Rogers was a difficult man. He never admitted he was wrong, he spent his evenings drinking on the couch, and always had something to complain about. The best words to describe this man was angry, bitter, and reckless

He wasn’t a father by any means. To Toby, the man was more of a nuisance than anything. An alcoholic manchild who stood in his way

The boy never got along with Dan. His father would see him as a burden, bringer of unnecessary medical costs. He severely emotionally and physically neglected his children from their birth. Dan never wanted to be a father.

Due to the costs of Tobys medical problems, Dan would continuously attempt to “prove he was faking” his CIPA, and yell at the boy for his strange twitches due to Tourettes. On one occasion, Dan put his sons hand in a pot of boiling water to try and elicit a pain response that never came.

As Toby got older and more independent from his mother, he would often mouth off to his father, talk back, or straight up ignore him. There was never a moment of peace between those two

Being the money maker in the house, Dan was usually very overworked and stressed. He turned to alcohol to relieve this, and his bad temper got worse when he drank. Often to the point his outbursts would lead to physical violence against his family

It was like walking in a minefield for Toby and his family. And since the supposed “man of the house” was a drunken mean old man, Toby took it upon himself to protect his family from his fathers wrath.

He would purposely act up to direct Dans fist towards him. The boy couldn’t feel it anyways, and being hit, pushed, grabbed, was better than having his sister or mother be hit or yelled at.

The young boy spent his childhood in a rage, he was powerless against his father.

MOTHER DEAREST .

Unlike her husband, Connie was a quiet woman who cared deeply for her children

She was well-mannered, motherly, and kept to herself. And while she was a good woman, she had her fair share of flaws

You would catch her dead before you ever caught her losing control over her emotions. Connie grew up quick and that stuck with her. From a young age she took care of her manchild of a husband

She couldn’t afford to lose herself to silly things like emotions. She had a family to care for, a house to clean, meals to cook. Her priorities lied on appearance over her health

This was one of the many reasons she couldn’t leave her husband despite the years of abuse

Despite all the violence, berating, assault. This life was her own and it was just another thing she had to live with

Toby loved his mother, he really did. He knew she did the best given the circumstances. Connie kept her children fed, clothed and housed. Thats all he could really ask for

But he despised from the depths of his soul how she could just sit by and let the abuse happen. How she never left Dan. How she never cared enough to leave despite not knowing what lied in store for them beyond that house

To her, Dan was a safety net. He provided money, insurance, he paid the bills, put food on the table. Connie quit her job in order to homeschool her son. There was no choice

To Toby, his mother was a coward who never stuck up for herself. And god forbid he ever turn into that

So Toby fought the battles his mother couldn’t. He said the words his mother didn’t dare to speak. He took the beatings and his mother did nothing but ask her husband to stop

SOUL SISTER .

In the chaos of that household, Lyra was something of fresh air for Toby

While the two did fight as any siblings do, they had a mutual care and understanding for each other

Lyra would keep a makeshift first aid kit under her bed for whenever Toby got into minor accidents or if their father went too far some nights

Like her little brother, Lyra had a lot of anger in her. She would always try to stop Dan from going too far and she was good at talking Toby and their father down from ripping each others throats out

She would channel this anger and frustration into sports like boxing, soccer, rugby. It was easier to express her feelings through physical means than ever talking about it. The girl was a perfect mix of her parents

When he was younger, Toby had a very bad and hostile relationship with Lyra. He was young and didn’t have any clue how to handle his emotions and would often threaten or physically hurt his sister

But as he grew up, and they bonded over the related abuse, and they would be there for each other, Toby developed tender care for his older sister. If she got a boyfriend, he would be ready to attack at any sign of disrespect. If she brought over friends, he would stay in his room not to embarrass her.

Just as he was with his mother, he was very protective over Lyra. She did so much for him, and he wanted to keep her safe. It was a tangled, messy relationship but they made it work despite her attitude and his anger

CONDUCT .

Toby grew up completely isolated from other kids, families, etc. The most socialization he got was going to family events or being dragged to the grocery store with his mother.

All he knew growing up was violence. And so when he was around other people, he would project everything he learnt from his father onto other kids

From a very early age he was made to feel small and insignificant in his own home by the people that were supposed to take care of him. And so whenever something challenged him out of the house, he would do whatever he needed to do to put them below him

Sometimes Toby would project this violence onto small animals, occasionally moving onto bigger animals such as cats. The feeling of killing something smaller than himself with his own hands gave him a sense of power and control he never had

Due to his untreated ADHD, the boy would often be loud, hyperactive and intrusive. He would have temper tantrums and outbursts as well, and his mother never knew how to handle it

He was a problem child from birth. Not only causing problems for himself, but for everyone around him

Toby would talk back, curse, say strange and vulgar things, refuse to apologize or admit he was wrong, and would run away from home occasionally.

But despite these behavioural issues, Toby always refused to touch alcohol. Despite all the anger, dread and frustration he felt he swore he’d never become the kind of man his father was

BULLY .

Around 12 years old, Toby’s parents decided it would be best for him to get properly socialized and placed him in a public school

He was now old enough to recognize that bleeding is bad and how to check for injuries despite his CIPA, which allowed Connie to calm down tremendously when it came to her anxiety surrounding her boys health and safety

Despite his mothers insistence that he would love public school, he’d make so many friends there, and that everything would be fine, Toby knew damn well he wouldn’t do well there. He was already bullied by his own father, imagine how other kids would react. He’s seen the movies.

And of course Toby was right. Due to his Tourettes, his tics would often confuse, scare and gross other kids out. They would either straight up treat him like a diseases rat or ruthlessly bully him

The boy was called every name in the book, from “twitchy freak” to “ticci Toby”

Alongside the ostracism and harassment from his peers, his tics and behavioural issues would cause him issues with his teachers. They would often scold him for being a disturbance in class

Making and keeping friends was near impossible for the boy. Talking to a “creepy loser” like him was practically social suicide. He was weird, strange, and given his history of fighting the other kids he was probably dangerous too. No kid wanted to be around that.

On occasion, the other boys would get physical with him and he would always hit back, leading him to get in more trouble with the school staff

Toby would be beat down at school and go home to have it done to him all again by his father

Eventually the school year came to an end and Toby was put back in homeschooling

Even though the torment in middle school came to an end, that didn’t mean the bullying stopped. He was now a known freak and the perfect target for kids who were a bit too much like him. They would harass him online until they got bored, and god forbid he saw any of them in public

It made the angry, powerless boy feel even worse in his own world. There wasn’t a night that went by where he didn’t think of going off and getting his revenge. Make them pay for ever fucking with him.

THE CRASH .

When Toby turned 17, he had finally got himself medicated for his recently diagnosed Bipolar Disorder which caused manic / depressive episodes

He was put on antipsychotics and stimulant medication for his ADHD

While he was being treated, his sister got a job and so did his mother. Outside of all the familiar instability and violence his father caused, life was good

Toby was going to be 18 soon and his sister promised that when he became a legal adult, she would take him to move out with her

He didn’t have any friends, he didn’t really have any plans for his life, but he had a life ahead of him regardless and that was enough

The boy was working through pain too great to imagine, he was carrying 17 years of fear and dread, he was so young holding on to so much

But he had a way out. He was going to get a job and move out with his dear older sister and maybe even go to college. He was going to overcome this

That was his views at least up until the crash

Lyra was driving Toby back home from a doctors appointment when it happened

His tics were acting up, it was rather distracting

He was so caught up in his own little world and trying to get through the frustrating twitches that he didn’t even have a second to process what happened

The next thing Toby knew, the car was swerving right into a lamppost and the air bags were deployed

And the next thing Toby saw was his sisters mangled, bloody body. The force of the steering wheel crushing her bones and shards of glass piercing her skin. The physical trauma near shattered her ribs

And the next thing Toby heard was the pained groans and wheezing from his dying sister

Thats the last thing he remembered before he woke up in a hospital bed with his broken arm being patched up. The doctors wouldn’t even let him see his sister who was under surgery in the emergency room

He didn’t get to be there by her side when she died

He didn’t get a goodbye

And while he was surrounded by family, his aunt Lori was even there to support his mother, Tobys father was nowhere to be seen

Dan was too drunk to drive, and too lazy to call a cab. He didn’t care about Toby and he didn’t care that his daughter just died. One less burden.

In one afternoon Tobys entire life slipped through the cracks of his hands

HIM .

The grief was sickening. It was heavier than the weight of the world. The silence that flooded his once loud house from his sister blaring her Beatles albums was deafening

These were the kinds of things that only happened in movies. People didn’t really lose their family members, and these things didn’t happen to people like him

It wasn’t fair

The one good thing in his miserable life, the moment things were finally getting better. There was no hope anymore, Toby was hopeless

He thought of ending his life every night as he stared at the ceiling, not getting a wink of sleep. But he couldn’t do that to his mom. She never showed it, but it showed clearly from the weight in her steps, the tired look in her eyes. He knew she was carrying a burden too great to bear

He couldn’t take away both of her children

So he would lie there night after night hoping to wake up from the gutwrenching dream just to hear her laugh, sing, blast her shitty music. He never really liked The Beatles, but she did. But she did.

It was all too much for him. From the moment Toby stepped out of the hospital he hadn’t felt real. The boy was living two steps away from reality like there was a sheet of plastic in between him and the world

Days would go by where he would forget to take his medication, or where he would simply just sleep the entire day away

On the days he was awake, Toby would feel like he was going insane. He wouldn’t feel real, he would see things out of the corner of his eye

Sometimes he’d swear he saw something outside his window at night

A strange creature standing under the streetlights

And it only got worse from here. Toby would almost always refuse to leave the house, he stopped sleeping, he felt like something was watching him

The boy would spend hours staring outside his bedroom window. The forest in his backyard had eyes and they were watching him

A wave of sickness overtook Toby. He would wake up with bloody noses sometime and no medicine would get rid of his strange cough. Sometimes he would sleepwalk and end up waking up on the edge of the forest behind his house, cold and alone in the dark of the night

It all added up. It was too much. The anger, the fear, the paranoia. The little voice in the back of his head telling him to just do it. Get revenge. Make him pay.

ABLAZE .

The years and years of abuse. Everything his father had done. He wasn’t there. He was never there.

Why should a man like that deserve to live? 17 fucking years of making Toby feel small and insignificant

Not today. And not anymore. The world was in the boys hands now, and so was a knife. And that night was the night Toby Rogers killed his own father.

No words could describe the feeling of adrenaline and rage that overtook the boy that night. There was no other option, this was the way it was always going to happen

Everything Toby has ever been through has led up to this. It was his own divine prophecy

And God showed no mercy that night

23 stab wounds drilled into his fathers chest, his face bloody, beaten and unrecognizable. Toby smashed his tiny bruised fists ruthlessly into his fathers now deceased body.

The only thing that stopped him was the scream of his mother. It was something primal, something deep from the pain in her gut.

Toby ran into the garage and grabbed two axes that belonged to his father, one old one new. Alongside that he grabbed gasoline and matches. He was going to do what he knew best. He was going to destroy everything.

And so the boy ran down the street of his neighborhood pouring the gasoline along his way and dousing the rest over the trees as he stood at the edge of the forest

Striking a match, the dry grass and trees caught on fire and immediately exploded into flames. The heat and blaze engulfed the boy and soon it began catching onto the rest of the forest

This was the end, he thought. Strangely enough, even though his heart was beating in his throat and his body was shaking, he felt calm. He had no regrets and he was fine with this being his ending.

His mind went blank, everything felt like a static screen, he could feel himself getting dizzy and there was a loud ringing in his ears

The last thing he saw was a tall, faceless creature in the midst of the smoke and fire as he collapsed to the ground.

And that was the death of Tobias Erin Rogers.

#creepypasta #ticci toby #creepypasta ticci toby #creepypasta headcanon #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby fanart #toby rogers #ticci toby creepypasta #creepypasta writing #ticci toby fanfiction #writing #original writing #ticci toby headcanon #pyrocrpz

331 notes · View notes

mahmoudkhaled · 2 months

Text

My name is Mahmoud Hammad from Palestine, Gaza. I finished my studies in nursing. I worked as a volunteer in one of the hospitals in the Gaza Strip, “Nasser Medical Hospital” in Khan Yunis, and after that I worked in a field outside my university studies due to the economic conditions and the siege on the Gaza Strip. “I want your help to save my family from this brutal war, and I am asking for your support to help me rescue my family (my parents, my wife, my two children, and three brothers) from Gaza. For more than 130 days, we have witnessed very difficult days of bombing, destruction, fear and terror. I lived days without I know news. My family has been cut off from communication due to the massive destruction and bombing. My family was displaced under bombing and terrorism to Rafah. We have reached a stage where we feel desperate. I ask you to help me save my family’s life by getting them out of Gaza because there is no safe place, and people are slowly dying because of... Hunger and dehydration. Displacement, the spread of diseases and malnutrition. My family became homeless like many others due to the ongoing bombing of Gaza since October 7. When my family was displaced, there was no means of transportation to get around. They walked under the bombing with fear and panic in their hearts. My family is staying now in a tent in Rafah in bad conditions. It is absolutely inhumane, food is running out, there is no electricity, water or toilet and it is very cold, imagine no diapers for my children! It has been 3 months of hell and horror. This genocide has been going on for a while for a long time, our mental health and our lives are in constant danger. This is what I can describe, and I cannot talk about the horrific scenes that my family witnessed throughout this period. We have reached a point where there is no longer any hope for us here in Gaza because unfortunately we are waiting for our turn to die.

The destruction in Gaza is too great to rebuild quickly. To exit Gaza through the Gaza crossing, which is the only crossing in the Strip, an adult must pay $7,000 to the coordinator. The occupation has destroyed a very large number of homes in our camp and bulldozed all the streets, and now we know nothing about our home!, which I miss and my eyes shed tears without realizing it. My entire childhood and childhood memories were lived in that house.

Please help me, I would greatly appreciate any donation, even a small one that can make a huge difference in alleviating our suffering. Please share my campaign widely, because every minute is a risk of death in Gaza. I would appreciate your help during this difficult time.

Thank you for standing in solidarity with us.

Mahmoud from Palestine - Gaza

#free gaza #gaza #palestine #save gaza #save palestine #gaza genocide #war on gaza #stand with gaza

79 notes · View notes

offender42085 · 4 months

Text

Post 1142

Robert Seth Denton, Tennessee inmate 603028, born 1996, incarceration intake March 2019 at age 22, sentenced to life

Murder

In March 2019, Robert Denton, a man convicted of killing three of his family members in August 2015 was sentenced to serve two life sentences.

Judge James F. Goodwin Jr. sentenced Denton to two consecutive life sentences without the possibility of parole plus five years.

A jury convicted Denton of three charges of first-degree murder, one charge of reckless aggravated assault, one charge of aggravated assault causing fear and one count of felony reckless endangerment.

“I think, legally, that was the appropriate sentence in this case,” Sullivan County District Attorney Gen. Barry Staubus said. “We believe the facts that substantiate three people were murdered, but as the judge noted, in the room there were a number of children. That was important as a deciding factor in the case.

Defense attorney Ricky Curtis said that the next step for them will be to file for a new trial. Curtis requested court transcripts, and will have 30 days to file a motion for a new trial.

“Any time you have a case this serious, first of all, it’s generally standard procedure,” Curtis said, adding, “It’s our opinion that there may be some issues that we need to look at again to make sure all the right decisions were made during the course of the trial.”

Goodwin said that he found Denton to be a dangerous offender with “no regard for human life.”

“This case was all about hate. Hate for his mother and his grandmother. Therefore he is not a dangerous offender to other human life.” The defense attorney said he voluntarily left the children and his grandfather alive.

During the hearing, Goodwin said he was not giving Denton’s personal and family mental health conditions “a great deal of weight,” but said he would give “great weight” to the children who were present in the room at the time of the shooting.

“When he did the shootings, all those children were in that confined space. All the children witnessed the killing,” Goodwin said. “At least two of those children remain in counseling to this day.”

#inmate

78 notes · View notes

viciouslyyearning · 1 year

Text

Considering a story idea here... With a monstrous prisoner and his caretaker

Imagine you're living in an old kingdom that's been around for at least a few hundred years, the royals appear kind and caring but as soon as someone mentions something out of that image they disappear. The secrets are ignored for self preservation of the people.

Due to the reputation of the castle, as well as the decent working conditions, whenever an opening for a job under the crown is available it is just as quickly snatched up. Except for one.

"Caretaker"

Not nanny for the children, not companion for the young royals of the court, caretaker. It is a position that is filled and reopened again and again as though whoever takes the job on just... Leaves. If nothing else.

With no family left and no means to make any money you brace yourself for caretaking of a royal pet who's a bit more dangerous than ought be.

You are found by the guards after applying and taken directly to the King and Queen. They are nice in the way a shopkeeper might be, nice as long as you give them business, nice as long as you do as they need.

They tell you that your job will be to watch over and care for a prisoner locked away in the catacombs under the castle. He is in a small cell, unable to escape so there is no threat to you. They only wish not to deal with him personally. They refuse to kill him either so, a life of nothing is his punishment.

You hesitate, and ask his crime to deserve as such.

"That creature was judged by my great great grandfather, I trust his judgement and instructions. He will not be killed but he must not be allowed to die either." The queen spoke with order in her tone.

You bowed, her louder tone reminding you it is not your place to ask.

The King stood alongside his Queen, "you will be housed in a small cottage, the entrance to the catacombs is in the basement, hidden from any outside of your job and our title." His voice grew firm. "You will not discuss the contents of your role here. You will never allow him to be found by curious eyes."

You agreed silently, wholeheartedly.

The Queen spoke once more, "You will be provided meals for you and for him. Be certain not to switch the two, one is fit for health, the other is only there to not allow starvation. All you need do is give food and water as you see fit. As long as he doesn't perish under your care it can be as often or as far between as you'd prefer." She hesitated, "it would be best to ignore him entirely while you are there. He has earned his punishment and will serve his sentence for however long it takes."

You were escorted quickly and stealthily to your new home, it was a decent little cabin. Room for one with some food already stocked in the shelves and a small bag of coin to start you off.

The guards left you after that, not a word to be shared.

You settled what few belongings you had and noted the time. Supper already, might as well go ahead and greet your new... Acquaintance.

You looked through the pantry to find a decent sized bag filled with scraps of food, presumably from the castle. Half eaten, molding bread. Squishy fruits, foul smelling meats.

You were quick to close the bag once more. Bewildered at the state of what you assumed was your prisoners meals.

You shook your head and left the bag, searching through the rest of the pantry to collect the food that must have been meant for you, fresher, not smelling of something rotten, decent textures.

Assembling two bowls of a mix of cheeses, slices of meat, some grapes, and a small half loaf of bread each. Grabbing an empty water skin and filling it up as well, you headed to the basement and down through the catacombs.

The catacombs were musky and dimly lit, the greatest light source being your small lantern. It was a decent sized hallway with various connecting rooms, some with empty dusty cells, others carved out hovels. You made sure to note different rooms as it would be your new working grounds.

It took a few minutes of walking before you finally saw a room with a lantern that had long since ran out of fuel.

It was deathly silent as you slowly peered into the room, dingy brown rock walls, a wooden table covered in dust, and a heavy cell door made of metal bars with a small hole at the bottom of it.

You cautiously walked into the room, bringing your lantern with you, illuminating the room, you couldn't see much but felt something here. It wasn't empty silence it was a silence that contained something... Or someone.

"Hello?" You called cautiously, walking towards the dark cell.

You almost dropped your items as a pair of glowing green eyes opened in the darkness to watch you. You swallowed silently, observing the silhouette of what must have been your prisoner.

As he said nothing, you sat on the ground in front of the cell door. If he was sitting you would too. "I'm here to bring you your meal." Your voice wavered slightly, uncertain of what his response might be, would he slam the cell doors, scream madly, try to reach you and hurt you?

"Oh..." The feeble voice sounded softly. Heavy with an unfamiliar accent and resigned to his fate.

You nodded, finally looking away and towards the two bowls. You froze when you felt his eyes focus intently on you.

The rattling of heavy chains echoed through the stone room.

When you looked back to where the man was you had noted he'd crept closer, in doing so it allowed you to take note of his appearance. Long unkempt dark hair, a scruffy beard and a mountain of a form covered in simple grey fabrics. The man was massive and also so damn feeble. His green eyes watched you closely, he sat away from where you were still. Waiting.

While watching the man you slowly slid one of the bowls through the slot in the door, watching him eye the simple meal like a predator. As soon as your hand had retracted he slowly reached an arm towards the bowl, seeing his skin close to your light let you see how his hands were black as charcoal, blending into his natural skin tone. As he moved to grab his bowl you could also take note of how skinny he was, how dry and cracked his lips were. The poor man had damn near been starved multiple times if his reaction was so calm to his situation.

Once he had taken the bowl and looked properly at it's contents his eyes darted to yours. Had he truly been eating the scraps you had found?

You looked away to take your own bowl and begin to eat, hearing the man tear apart his meal with a fever.

You both sat in silence, the man long finished before you, yet staying where he was. It wasn't until you lifted the waterskin to take a sip did he make any noise.

You looked to him, watching him stare intently at the skin. "When was the last you'd had a drink?" You spoke gently.

He breathed slowly, finally looking away from the skin, almost ashamed to have been caught. "Since the last time it had rained, there is a crack in the rocks that allows a small trail of water to run through this hole."

His words made you freeze. It was someone's job to keep the man alive and hardly that had been done. He was sound of mind and calm, could the basic decency of humanity have not been applied here? You sighed, slowly capping the waterskin and sliding it through the slot. "Drink."

The mans hand shaked as he reached out, almost unbelieving. Lifting the waterskin and delighting in feeling that it was almost full, not even an empty promise but a container of fresh water. He drank desperately, downing the entire waterskin and leaving you wide-eyed at the display.

Once finally finished he breathed deeply, eyes closed and silent. You watched curiously as he finally opened his eyes once more to look to you.

The man bowed his head silently, clutching the bowl and waterskin as though precious treasures. As he lifted his head he shuffled closer to return them both. "I can not tell the last I've such a meal. Your kindness is greatly appreciated."

He spoke with such joy and respect it astonished you. For multiple reasons, though the main one rising in your throat. "Did no one feed you a proper meal? This was just what I could grab short notice."

He looked confused now, "I would say that was a proper meal, not a speck of soiled food anywhere." The both of you had moved closer to the cell bars as you spoke, allowing you to see how truly massive this man was and how powerful he would be if well kept. Damn near twice your size at least.

You shook your head, "No this was not a actual meal, this was something quick and easy." You declared. "My entire job is to keep you fed and I refuse to make multiple different kinds of meals, whatever I make for myself I make for you, that will be simplist." You decided, refusing to also waste time on food that would make you sick from looking at it.

The man stared at you with wide eyes that looked almost tearful. "Avalon." His voice came out more clear than before.

Cocking your head to one side you spoke, "Avalon?"

"My name," He replied. "If you are to speak so kindly with me I wish you to know it."

"Ah, thank you then."

He nodded. "You might wish to return home now, I don't think you'd enjoy wandering in the dark." Guesturing to your flickering lantern, Avalon made a very good point.

"Shit!" You exclaimed as you realized that it would extinguish soon, not enough fat to keep it burning for much longer. You quickly gathered your things, pausing as you realized you would be leaving with the only light source, leaving Avalon in the dark once more. You grimaced as you looked to the empty lantern that had been left behind.

"I can bring more fuel for the one here when I return tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Avalon grasped the cell bars, staring intently with a hopeful look in his eyes. "You would return tomorrow?"

Now you were once more confused, "Yes? I plan on bringing you a meal at least once a day, most likely in the evening so I'll have time to prepare."

The massive man smiled so brightly you'd think you had told him he was free. You couldn't help but offer a small smile in return. "I'll be back tomorrow, and I'll bring more lantern fuel so you're not sitting in the dark." With that you turned and left, walking quickly to avoid having to navigate the tunnels in the dark.

Avalon stared at the door, watching the same spot long after your light had left. Even he could understand the miracle that had been such a kind person being the one to care for him. He almost felt hopeful, if nothing else, than for someone to properly speak with, not to be ignored. As long as you showed no kindness whenever the king saw fit to come around, would you be safe.

For weeks everything was calm, you would cook a hearty meal for supper, and bring it with you down to Avalon's cell where you would both eat together. Along with two waterskins, one for each of you. You both would spend time talking, sharing stories or various thoughts and dreams.

You had noted that Avalon only had his clothes, so you brought him a blanket and a pillow, he refused anything else. He noticed how you seemed to have a difficult time when you were feeling ill and presented a small rot that had grown in the rocks, telling you to use it for a tea and it would cure the sickness and it did.

The two of you would share many a nights talking, until the night you had brought a small storybook with you and saw Avalon light up like never before. After that it had become tradition for you to bring him two books each week. One for him to read to you when you were there, one for him to read when you were away.

Avalon had proven to be quite a gentle, soft-spoken, and kind man. You could never imagine why he had been locked away. The night you asked he confessed that he wasn't certain either, he couldn't think of doing anything warranting such treatment nor could he remember how long it had been.

So you had dropped it.

And all was peaceful. Almost pleasant.

Until it wasn't.

The evening was like any other, you had began to make your way through the catacombs, almost able to make the trip blind at this point. Your hesitation came from hearing a commotion from Avalon's cell room as well as bright lights of multiple torches lighting the hall. You hurried closer, growing anxious as you saw multiple guards standing watch, noting how they immediately moved to let you pass.

Avalon's cell was opened, and the King had dragged him out by the metal collar around his throat, connecting chain rattling as the king snatched Avalon up to his knees by the collar.

Avalon let out a sharp wheeze, yet remained limp, refusing to do anything but allow whatever to happen. The very sight made you want to do something.

"Ah, caretaker." The King spoke with a delighted tone. "I was wondering where you had been," The King guestured his free hand out, holding a heavy looking mallet in said hand, one covered at the end in blood. Avalon's blood by the looks of it.

You bowed slowly, not wishing to risk the rage of a King in such a state. "My king. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The King grinned, dropping Avalon's chain and grabbing a fistful of his hair, jerking his head back in one fluid motion and allowing you to see the bruising and blood along his face and neck. "I was just coming to see your work, you were told to keep this one," shaking Avalon's head slightly, he continued, "in a living state and I see you have!"

Avalon wheezed before stilling once more, remaining limp as a small pool of blood began to form beneath him. How many injuries did he have that you couldn't see?

The kings voice was overly sweet, "almost too well I might add. We wish him to live not to thrive." His tone turned accusatory. "This?" His voice grew as he shoved Avalon to the ground, the far bigger man falling to his side, gasping as he hit the cold hard rock floor. "This thing is not a friend, not a companion. It is a prisoner by the decree of this kingdom's crown." The King slowly stalked closer, barley contained rage making itself known as he continued. "You were asked to keep it alive. How have you chosen to do so?" He asked staring at your arms that contained the usual meal and drink

Ah. An evaluation then. You were quick to respond, looking the King in the eye and speaking as respectfully as you could manage. "I have decided to feed and water him once a week as that seems to keep him stable enough. If the nights are too cold I bring him a blanket and take it back once it warms up. I am uncertain of his limits and don't wish to push lest he freeze or starve." Your tone sounded as uncaring as you could manage, the King wished you to make Avalon suffer, you would make him believe that you had like everyone before you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noted Avalon watching the King from his spot on the ground, one of the many guards holding a sword to his throat to ensure that he wouldn't rise up.

Your focus returned to the man in front of you who stared intently, before tapping against the bowl of hot stew, one of Avalon's favorites.

"Then why feed a prisoner as you would a friend?"

You were quick to reply as confidently as possible, "The food given to me to feed the prisoner was foul enough that I refused to lay my hands upon it. For my own convenience I simply make what I enjoy and use a portion to feed him. Less work, less mess."

The King before you considered your answer before gently taking the bowl from your hands, "I will ensure he receives his meal tonight," he finally broke eye contact as he turned and walked once more towards Avalon. Dropping the bowl carelessly as he raised his mallet high and swung down hard against Avalon's side, the cracking wet noise paired with Avalon's sudden muffled scream made you flinch.

"It would be wise of you to take your leave now and return home, caretaker."

Avalon wheezed raggedly, looking to you with a pained expression before looking towards the opened door behind you, silently begging you to obey and leave.

You slowly took a step back, ducking your head down and rushing out, trying to find the strength to leave while hearing the King continue his display of mad aggression.

Rushing back to your home you locked the door to the catacombs. Uncertain of what to do, all you could do was wait. Wait and watch the bridge to the castle where the King would have to travel to return home.

You sat by the window until long after dark before you finally saw the torches of the King and his guards leave, waiting just a while longer to be certain.

Once you were positive that they had left for good you grabbed anything you knew would help and headed straight for Avalon's cell.

The sight that laid before you almost left you in tears, Avalon had been locked back in his cell, collared and chained to the bolt in the floor once again as he laid in a bloodied heap upon the ground. The bloody trail from where he had been dragged slowly fading to a dark brown.

You moved silently, doing the one thing you never had before and unlocking the cell door.

Avalon's breath froze, he was listening.

"Avalon?" Moving to sit next to the giant man you set down your supplies, wanting him to know what you were going to do so you didn't surprise him. Not after what you had seen done to him. "I'm going to clean you up if that's alright?"

No response other than his breathing settling once again.

You reached a hand to place it along his back, hesitating. You had never touched him before, he wouldn't hurt you, you knew that. He would have already if it was his intention. Taking a breath you settled your hand between his shoulder blades, eyes tearing up as you felt the warm blood beneith his clothes.

Avalon shifted slowly, with your help the two of you managed to place him upon his blanket against the wall.

As soon as he was settled you realized just what position you were in. Kneeling in the floor next to the slumped over giant of a creature you only made it up to his toreso at best, his massive hands able to cover your entire stomach if he tried. This powerful and dangerous prisoner that you were supposed to fear or hate for whatever unknown reason, opened his glowing eyes and looked at you with such relief and fatigue that any fear left in that moment.

You leaned closer and reached a hand out slowly, not wanting to startle your companion.

Avalon watched closely, eyes growing hopeful as your hand almost reached his cheek.

The moment your hand settled against his cheek, softly stroking the skin and offering comfort he hadn't felt for ages.

"I'm sorry, Avalon."

He stared at you, your voice so sweet in his ears, your warmth easily pushing past all of the cold and the pain he felt in that moment, your care. He couldn't stop himself from leaning into your hand, raising his own to keep yours in place as he closed his eyes and choked back a sob.

Your own tears were quick to follow as you moved closer, moving to hold his face in both of your hands, you let him keep you in place. You startled for only a moment as his free hand wrapped around you, slowly pulling you into his embrace as he cried, desperate for any comfort you were willing to allow.

The soft silent cries were muffled into your shoulder as Avalon held you close, encasing you in his arms. His grip was gentle, yet firm and unwilling to let go. You couldn't care in the slightest as you attempted to comfort the creature that had grown to such great importance to you.

You remained there for the rest of the night, staying in his grip for hours until he finally released you to allow you to patch him up as best you could.

Avalon was grateful for every moment you allowed him, often saying so when he could find the strength to speak.

It felt wrong leaving him in his state. You spent your days afterwards by his side, helping feed him and replacing any bandages that might need fixing, staying by his side in his cell as he slept. You realized quickly that he slept best with you somehow touching him, be it his head in your lap, your hand in his, or simply pressed into your side as close as he could get.

As the days passed and his strength returned, his wounds closed at remarkable speeds. His ever gentle personality grew as well, into something more affectionate, dependant.

One calm evening you sat in his cell with him laying next to you, arms wrapped around your hips as his head laid in your lap. Breathing slowly and easily as compared to the broken breaths from before.

Placing the book down next to you, you looked to the side of Avalon's face, brushing his hair away so you could see him better. "You shouldn't be here." You decided.

Avalon's eyes opened slowly as he shifted to look up to you. "You think so?"

"No one even knows what you've done to be locked up." You watched as he leaned into the hand you'd placed against his cheek, a now common gesture.

"And yet I am and forever will be. They wait for me to die, refusing to try and kill me, unknowing that I never will." He spoke quietly, causing you to pause.

"You never told me that," Shifting slightly and settling once more you moved his face to look at yours. "Avalon why won't you die? What could you possibly gain from living this way."

He sighed softly, looking to you with such an openness. "Before, I would have told you that it is the nature of my kind."

"And now?"

He smiled softly, reaching a hand up to the one you had on his cheek and nuzzling into it happily. "Because you are here. I refuse to leave your side."

The threat of the royal family weighed heavily upon your mind. Avalon deserved better than this, he always had and now you were beyond certain. But how could you obtain such a thing for him?

"What happens when I'm gone, then?"

The creature sat up, turning to you in confusion and something you hadn't seen in his eyes before. "Why would you not return? You have a cabin, food, coin, all you need do Is keep me and avoid the king whenever he feels the need to lash out against myself."

Looking up to the creature that towered over you had lost any semblance of intimidation long ago, thankfully. "If they find us like this? If they see how I care for you and how you care for me they very well might execute me seeing how the king acted thinking I fed you a decent meal only once a week."

You hardly finished your sentence before Avalon's green eyes glowed with an unnatural fire, he snarled and let out a menacing growl, showing off a pair of fangs you'd only caught glimpses of before. "I will sooner burn this entire damned kingdom to ash and rubble than allow them to lay a hand upon you." He declared, his voice echoing in multiple layers at once in the most threatening and terrifying you had ever heard from him. The fire in his eyes gave you just a glimpse to the danger this creature could have been at one point.

"Avalon?" You called gently. Watching as he quieted and looked to you like a lost puppy.

He sighed and reached out to you, holding you close once more as he sat against the wall of his cell. Avalon closed his eyes and nuzzled against the top of your head, focusing on your warmth, your scent, the way you fit in his arms. He wouldn't lose this, he refused to lose you.

If he could get you to agree...

"Why don't we leave then?" He questioned hesitantly, "We can just leave, the two of us. We can find somewhere safe and I can care for you as you have me." He looked to you as he felt you shifting.

"You would want to stay with me after gaining your freedom? I'm not expecting that of you-"

He silenced you gently, "I have already told you that I will remain by your side. Even before I was here I remember people being scared of me or hating me if not both." Avalon rumbled happily as he looked to you once more, "never you."

Happily you leaned against him, soaking in the affection he so happily gave and received. "It would have to be at night. I would need to collect a bag of supplies and we would need clothes for you that blend in with crowds."

Avalon let out a breath of relief that you were willing. If it wasn't safe for you here he would need to get you away from this place, all the better you agreed.

It took another week of planning, between strict patrol of the castle walls left so little opportunities to leave unseen. After watching the patrol schedules you had found the best path, at the time just before the sun rises.

That night your bag had been packed and brought down to Avalon's cell. He encouraged you to rest before the journey, promising to wake you when he felt the time was close.

Sleep was nonexistent however you could take bittersweet solaces in being in Avalon's arms as the night passed. Trying to not think that it was the last you'd be able to rest peacefully with him.

When it finally was time you could only wish you were as certain as Avalon. You could tell that he definitely had a greater advantage than when you'd first met him. No longer skin and bone the massive man had filled out and looked healthy and strong, as well as determined. Stark contrast to the once lifeless walking corpse you had cared for.

Avalon held you close one final time before releasing you and letting you grab for your pickaxe. The old thing had to be put to use to get his chains off as the magic in them would shock him should he ever grab them with his own hands.

Had that same magic not been embedded in the metal he could have also warned you of his nature, his capabilities as soon as the damned collar would come off. Could he have, he would have told you what he was from the beginning. Though, you had to be quick, no time to explain until after.

The pickaxe was loud and someone might hear it, you would break his chains and the both of you would leave, finding the path and escaping into the deep woods. There he could take the collar off once the chains were disconnected and transform into his true draconic form. Once he could do that he could easily protect and care for you as he found somewhere safe for the both of you to settle happily for the rest of your lives. If only he could tell you his piece in the plan instead of probably giving you a heart attack when the time comes.

As you walked over, pickaxe in hand he braced himself for the sound.

With your arms raised, you slammed it down upon the chain bolt. The metal ringing out in protest and startling you with just how loud it was. With no time to waste you struck it again, flinching with how the room rumbled as though arguing with your actions.

"Once more." Avalon suggested worriedly.

Once more.

With the final swing the chain broke at the bolt, disconnecting the metals and freeing Avalon from being forced into one place.

You both stared at the broken chain in disbelief for a moment before looking to each other with hope. Avalon stood tall and moved to follow you as swiftly as he could through the catacombs.

He would let out little noises of excitement or disbelief every few minutes, the reality of the scenario sinking in.

As you made it to the entrance to the catacombs you had him wait, poking your head out and noting the distant shouting and torchlight moving your way. Fear struck your heart then, "we need to move quickly."

Avalon happily moved out of the doorway and stepped into the soft grass with the joy of a child, wanting to embrace the moment for all it's worth before hearing your heart speed up in fear. Instantly he had regained his composure and noted the guards approaching. Avalon took your hand in his and began moving quickly through the brush and trees. Trying to focus on getting you somewhere safe, not the utter joy of seeing the outside world for the first time in how many hundreds of years.

You were far more worried than he was, however. Listening for every tiny noise while trying to escort someone of his size away from any noise or light. The break in the castle walls weren't far, if you could get through that and to the edge of town you were free.

As the wall came into view you bit back a smile, truly believing it was going so well, it would work, you could leave the kingdom and it's mysterious disappearances and secrets and leave it all.

With Avalon by your side, you could leave you would both be free- the sharp pain that struck your leg forced you to cry out and stumble. Only being caught by Avalon as his expression shifted from worried to murderous.

The arrow in your leg was the same crafting as the royal guard's.

"You thought you would go unnoticed?!" The King appeared above you both, standing atop the castle wall, sword drawn and smiling far too wide. "Did you not think that there were guards that took note of how long and how often you'd go to the catacombs? That we would just ignore how worried for a mindless beast you seemed the night you found it in such a state at my hands!?" The King's voice boomed, not that you could pay it much attention, the arrow lodged in your leg was your main focus, whimpering and tearing up you couldn't walk much less run in this state.

You attempted to speak, to tell Avalon to leave. They would certainly kill him now. However, when you looked to him, when you saw his expression, the murderous rage in his eyes as he glared the king down from his position in the dirt beside you. You couldn't find the words.

The King could, however, "and you, beast!" He shouted, pointing a sword towards Avalon. Speaking confidently as a swarm of soldiers surrounded you and your companion, arrows and swords ready. "You truly thought you'd be allowed to leave? The first king who dominated this land and seized the fearsome dragon who owned it all?"

Avalon turned back to you with a great sorrow in his eyes, "I will get you out of here, I will bring us someplace safe." He swore quietly, ignoring the King's shouting. Focusing on trying to comfort you. It was only as the soldiers stepped closer did he snap to attention. Raising a hand to his metal collar, the final magical enchantment connected to him.

"The Kings before you were as cowardly as you. I lived here before this kingdom had formed and aided in it's creation as a friend of the King. He feared my power, and betrayed me. I had done nothing to deserve what your family has done to me. My companion has done nothing to deserve what you have done to them." Avalon tore at the metal, sparks of bright magic flying from the metal as well as his throat as he began to pry it open with an enraged shout.

The King looked horrified, raising his sword as he shouted to his army, "ATTACK!"

Avalon tore the collar off, in the same moment shouting in anger that turned into a thunderous roar from the changing and growing black scaled dragon.

As soon as you closed your eyes and braced yourself for the incoming soldiers, you were lifted up quickly into the sky, Avalon held you tightly in his claws while lifting himself off the ground with his mighty wings, flying far enough that you were both out of range before he took a deep breath.

Pressed to his scaled chest you could feel the immense heat of the dragons core growing as though it were made of-

Avalon opened his maw and a torrent of green flames fell towards the king and his soldiers.

You closed your eyes and tried to cover your ears from the sounds of the army of humans being burned alive.

As quickly as it began, it was over once more. Avalon breathed heavily, lifting himself higher in the sky and swooping down somewhat to take off with speed, flying high and fast away from the kingdom that had imprisoned him for so long, with you in his claws still.

With so much excitement and nothing making any sense you simply kept your eyes closed and allowed yourself to slip into unconsciousness.

It was a dull pain in your leg that you registered first upon awakening. Secondly it was the massive dragon form that had encircled you. Avalon was fast asleep, curled so tightly around you with such a massive form that even laying down his body was almost as tall as the trees you had seen grow.

Your senses returned to you swiftly as you tried to get up and move, only to let out a pained whine as your leg gave out, before you could hit the ground however, Avalon's clawed paw was underneath you. He had caught you and was now awake. The draconic maw inches from you as he leaned close to look you over.

"Gentle now, it will hurt worse if you move too much too quickly." His voice rumbled, similar yet far deeper and rough.

You whimpered slightly, attempting to calm yourself as the memories came back to you at once.

Avalon seemed to catch on rather quickly, "oh, it's alright little love, I swear." He cooed softly as he could in such a form. Slowly he dragged the paw that held you closer to his form, moving his maw so he could look at you once again and gently as ever nuzzle against you, careful to avoid your leg.

You caught your breath, letting your heart settle as you began to rationalize. It was just Avalon. He saved you he saved both of you. He was a big dragon apparently but he would have hurt you already if he meant to.

"Where... Are we?" You managed. Looking around to notice the plush bedding you had been laying on, seeing glints of something shining brightly in massive piles beyond the dragons form.

Avalon sighed happily, "my old cave. My home before I was imprisoned. Apparently none had found it in my absence and my hoard remained." He sat up slowly, keeping you close to his chest as he showed you the extensive collection of golden items and precious jewels and treasures that littered the cave.

You felt your heart freeze. With everything sinking in you tried to focus on your thoughts as you felt Avalon press his maw to your side once more.

"You're a dragon."

Said dragon rumbled contently, "I am."

You pressed a hand over the sore spot on your leg, trying to distract from how it felt. "You didn't say anything about this because?"

"The magic in the chains and collar forced me into my human form indefinitely, I had no proof. You would have thought me mad."

He wasn't entirely wrong.

You winced slightly as he began to move, instantly the dragon began to fret once more.

"Oh, forgive me, here. I'll place you back upon your bedding," the massive dragon moved so slowly and carefully it was almost impressive. As soon as you were placed upon the soft blankets once more you settled and watched as he finally stood, able to see the true size of such a creature.

Avalon began wandering through the cavern, digging through piles of treasure methodically.

You were content to watch before closing your eyes and attempting to find the position that eased the dull pain in your now bandaged leg.

It was only a few more minutes before you felt the heat from Avalon's maw radiating inches from your form. Opening your eyes you saw him holding a vial of a deep purple liquid.

Curiously you reach to take it, feeling the cold nature of the liquid through the glass.

"I have made friends that specialize in healing magic and nature. Drink. It will ease the pain until you heal naturally." He spoke quietly, moving to once again curl around your form.

You hesitantly opened the vial, the scent was somewhat sweet and almost fruity.

Noticing your stalling, Avalon leaned his muzzle down to gently tilt your hand as well as the vial closer to your lips. It tasted of a strange fruit with something bitter, an odd combination and not the greatest either. After drinking you made an unpleasant noise, closing the vial and setting it far from you.

Avalon pushed it farther away, agreeing with your response. He settled down however, nudging the blankets surrounding you even closer to ensure you were comfortable and warm.

He did seem rather pleased as the liquid began taking its effect and your discomfort diminished, replaced by a newfound exhaustion.

You yawned loudly, mind feeling foggier with every passing moment. "What will we do now?" You mumbled out, shifting to lay comfortably with Avalon pressing as close as he could to you.

He spoke softly and with such care, "Now you will rest, I will care for you. Later we can decide if you wish to stay here, close to the kingdom that betrayed us both, or if you wish to leave we can simply leave and find somewhere else. I have ways of transporting my hoard if needed be."

You nodded, cuddling into Avalon's muzzle as best you could, feeling him press closer to you in turn.

Avalon cooed softly and watched closely. You were already asleep. You might not notice if he slipped away to finish burning the damned castle to the ground with the rest of the royal family. No doubt they would send hunters and soldiers to find you both. That can't happen yet though, you need time to rest and heal and understand.

He didn't want you to see him act so harshly to keep you safe. He enjoyed you loving him, not fearing him. But if they came, if he didn't protect you-

Avalon growled lowly, eyes glowing green with the promise of death. He would kill every single one of them. One by one until they are all of them a pile of ash.

There was a reason he had been imprisoned, after all.

#dragon x reader #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #terato #dragon #x reader #tw blood #tw mentions of death

367 notes · View notes

bread-and-roses-too · 1 month

Text

Demonizing menstruation doesn't help spread information, mysticizing menstruation doesn't help spread information. Going completely neutral is the only way forward.

Periods are an expulsion of waste. They're no more gross than pissing is. The social etiquette of "excuse me I have to go to the bathroom" shouldn't change because someone puts a pad in their pocket before they head off.

Period blood is blood, along with endometrial cells. It isn't more dangerous or gross than the blood that comes out of a wound. It should be treated with the same level of caution because of the potential for disease transmission, but it's not some toxic sludge that you're going to die from looking at wrong. If blood gets on a nonporous surface a simple antibacterial wipe will remove it and prevent the spread of most potential diseases. For a nonporous surface like fabric soap and water may be enough, or hydrogen peroxide if the stain is stubborn. More careful steps may need to be taken if the blood may or does contain HIV, but it's important to remember that HIV can only be contracted by blood-to-blood contact or sex. Blood from a person with HIV isn't that much more dangerous than regular blood, just try not to touch blood directly in general and wash your hands correctly after handling soiled objects and you'll be fine.

Periods are not your body "punishing you" for not being pregnant. Your body is just a container for you, it doesn't have any feelings that you don't have. If you don't want kids but feel guilty about not having them, it is not your uterus making you feel guilt. That's you being reminded by your period to feel guilt because you were conditioned growing up to view everyone with a uterus as valuable only in terms of their ability and desire to carry children. Anthropomorphizing the function of your reproductive system is the way you deal with the guilt of not living up to your societal "purpose" of bearing children. Everyone who doesn't have kids, has kids late, or has a journey regarding children that's different from the societal norm deals with that to a certain extent, although people who were raised as girls/women tend to deal with it more. It's a line of thinking that you will likely need to work through, either alone or with a sympathetic therapist, in order to be content. Also, if your periods feel like a punishment that could be a sign that something is wrong.

Periods aren't supposed to disable you. Cramping should be at a "oops I ate something that didn't quite settle with me" level not a "cosplaying as a wounded animal" level. You should be able to pop your over-the-counter pain medication of choice and not have to think about the fact that you're on your period aside from the occasional bathroom trip to change your menstrual product. Bleeding through pads or tampons on an hourly basis isn't normal. Fainting from blood loss or pain isn't normal. Being unable to complete daily tasks, or completing them with difficulty, due to pain is not normal. Nausea or vomiting that interferes with your ability to stay fed and hydrated isn't normal.

Irregular periods can be normal, some people just don't get periods on a consistent schedule. Going more than 35 days between can be a sign that something is wrong. Going more than 90 days without a period, sometimes called "losing" your period, can be a sign that something is wrong. If you don't want to have a period, forcing yourself to "lose" it through starvation, overexercise, or stress is not a safe way to do it. These behaviors can have other long-term consequences, including premature death. Hormonal birth control can be taken consistently, skipping periods, with no excess effect on fertility or personal health that we're aware of.

Emotionality is normal before and during your period. Crying at a cat video that you would normally scroll past without thinking is normal. It's ok to be frustrated with emotionality, it can be annoying to feel out of control. It's also ok to withdrawal from others for a short time when you feel unable to socialize. Panic attacks, depression, sleep disturbances, loss of interest, and other major mood disturbances are not normal and can be a sign of premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD). PMDD is as serious as other depressive disorders and can lead to suicide.

Your reproductive system isn't self-contained, it's connected to the rest of your body via blood supply and other mechanisms. Even if you plan to have a hysterectomy or other permanent birth control at some point it's still important to get "period problems" checked out to ensure the rest of your body isn't affected.

People deal with their periods how they deal with them and it's none of anyone's business. Someone isn't lazy for not feeling up to activities during their period. People who eat junk food on their period aren't "making themselves feel worse". Judging someone's choice in menstrual products is so fucking weird and rude, yes I am judging you back. People who skip their periods using birth control (hi!) aren't ruining their bodies with chemicals. People who choose not to use birth control or don't use it for that purpose aren't choosing to suffer for no reason. People are infinitely complex in the ways they choose to deal with inconvenience and challenge and tearing each other down for not being the same is unproductive. Period stigma can only end when we work together, trans and cis, intersex and dyadic, all gender presentations, races, sizes, and abilities, to make it work.

In the theme of the last paragraph, if anything in this post is incorrect or uninclusive, please let me know and I'll fix it asap.

[image ID: a banner that reads "TERFs and SWERFs DNI].

#periods #menstruation #feminism #inclusive feminism #intersectional feminism #the menstruation masterpost

45 notes · View notes

transmutationisms · 9 months

Note

do you think vaccines should be mandatory? my view has always been that public health would outweigh personal choice in this instance but i also see the bodily autonomy argument, though ultimately i think it’s flawed and weird to compare, say, abortions with vaccines. i was wondering if you had an opinion or any resources on this topic?

this is one of those questions where i think the framing conceals a lot of unspoken premises and social/political assumptions. what do we even mean by a vaccine mandate in the first place? the truth is that in many contexts, vaccines are already mandatory—the trick is that these mandates are generally designed and first enforced by employers, schools, and private business establishments, rather than coming through direct state intervention. incidentally, most censorship works similarly, despite it also being positioned discursively as a matter of direct state intervention. the truth is that you are far more likely to run into problems if you, say, have an employer who requires vaccination—which makes your paycheck (that is, your ability to continue living) dependent on a medical intervention—than you are to face some kind of right-winger fear fantasy of a shadowy government agent showing up to your doorstep with a syringe. these things happen by economic coercion far more than through direct state command.

with that in mind, to me the issue that 'vaccine mandates' point to isn't so much an idealist conflict between 'safety' and 'liberty' or however nyt is framing it these days—rather, it's the fact that employers have the structural position to impose their will on employees, who often must comply or face, literally, starvation. i am willing to say this is a bad social structure despite the fact that in the case of vaccines i obviously agree that the particular intervention in question is a good thing, and is something that anyone who is medically eligible should be getting. in order to make vaccines mandatory, you need an enforcement mechanism—the one we currently primarily rely on is economic coercion in the form of threatening loss of livelihood (again, this also applies to most censorship cases). while i, again, strenuously think that people who can get vaccinated should do so, in order to make such a thing compulsory you have to confront the issue of what power structures make the compulsion possible and actionable. prisons? relying on the political whims and economic threats of employers? too often, a 'mandatory vaccine' is presented as though it could be ethically debated in the abstract, without reference to these conditions!

anyway, i'm not going to pretend that i can solve vaccine hesitancy in the next 90 seconds in a tumblr post, but off the top of my head here are some factors i think are major contributors to this issue:

ableism (eg, andrew wakefield preying on the fact that many parents would rather risk their children catching preventable dangerous diseases than let them be supposedly exposed to a greater chance of becoming autistic)

public distrust of physicians and public health infrastructure, for reasons ranging from medical racism and eugenics to discomfiting and traumatic experiences with the inherently (in this system) power-imbalanced relationship between medical professionals and patients

the massive gap between expert and lay knowledge on medical topics, enforced by mechanisms like paywalls and benefitting the prestige and pecuniary enrichment of physicians and public health experts (this provides fertile ground for grifters and liars to prey on people's confusion and difficulty verifying information)

possibilities for lies about vaccines to lead to financial enrichment, as in the case of social media grifts, heterodox and alternative medical practitioners, or eg andrew wakefield trying to sell his own vaccine after publishing his now-retracted paper on the supposed link between autism and the mmr vaccine

these are all bad things; they are also all actionable things. i do not think that it's some kind of transhistorical condition of humanity that we must choose between either passing each other dangerous diseases or designing coercive or punitive measures to force compliance with public health recommendations. i think all of these things are in fact very directly resultant of capitalism, the way it values bodies and health (biopolitics), and its politics of knowledge and expertise.

#public health

66 notes · View notes

mushroomnoodles · 3 months

Note

this ask may sound fetishist but it ISNTT 💀💀💀 is just an ask about candy's body biology.

Can candy simon carry, idk sextuplets? and be alright? normal human body would struggle and have miscarriages or premature birth, also conditions like back pain or bad breathing in the mother. Would candy simon being just candy be able to experience the struggle of carrying or would he just do it normally?

do candy bodies have limits? like pregnancy it's taxing on the body –most when you pop baby after baby— judging by the fact that Betty and simon have like 7 children with apparently different ages, I'm gonna guess that is a maybe.

can candy simon experiment any miscarriage? maybe by a miscalculation of candy's witch beans idk.

this is a very good ask and i love these kinds of genuinely curious questions! makes me think. you're all good! tw/cw for non kink mpreg mentions and birth defect/miscarriage talk. also.. candy simon reproduction (since he's the only candy person even equipped to carry a child)

no, candy simon cannot carry sextuplets. that he would not survive. the way his body is now designed to work is to prioritize the growth of his unborn baby, which means his body uses its own sugars to grow the fetus. the most he could theoretically handle without some serious detriment to his health is triplets.

with, for example, quads, candy simon doesn't need to breathe, and he can't feel pain, but he would be extremely weak and low-energy, along with showing signs of malnourishment (and he would die, if candy witch didn't care for and monitor him closely. he would not be able to get up and feed himself.)

candy simon, as long as he is properly eating, can essentially go through pregnancy with minimal issues besides intense cravings (his body replacing the sugars) and mood swings. the weight of being pregnant is something he notices but it's a trivial issue that just makes it harder to manuever.

his organs are very simple (and don't entirely mirror a human's) and with each pregnancy candy witch keeps a close eye on his physical health. it helps that candy simon can just.. physically replace parts of himself with caramel. hell, it helps that candy simon is caramel- he's very sturdy and resilient, and easily mended. candy simon could get squashed and be fine.

like i said, his main (and pretty much only) danger is.. well.. giving too much of himself to his fetus. malnourishing himself.

candy simon's children are all at least a few years apart, and in between children candy simon is given enough time to physically recuperate (not that he needs much) he can keep going as long as he's healthy and in one piece.

and yes, candy simon can experience a miscarriage, but only by defect of candy witch's jelly beans. when eaten by a candy person, they're meant to sort of burrow through and "take root" in a place to grow. for candy simon, who is specifically now built for this, the bean will take root in his. er. candy womb, where it will begin taking sugars and other minerals needed to become a candy person.

if the jelly bean isn't produced properly or is "off," one of three things could happen:

the bean acts as a normal jelly bean and never "fruits"

the bean ceases growth shortly after implanting and is reabsorbed into his body

the bean continues development but creates a candy kid with defects/deformities

if, for some reason, his body did not absorb a partially grown, but failed, jelly bean, candy witch would remove it. she keeps tabs on his body once he eats a bean, so she knows if something's gone wrong with the pregnancy.

#a #cw mpreg #nothin but words #cw miscarriage #mushspeaks #headcanon posties

28 notes · View notes

feckcops · 9 months

Text

Mental health diagnoses are capitalist constructs

“Mental and physical diagnoses aren’t objective facts that exist in nature, even though we usually think of them this way. While the experiences and phenomena that fall under different diagnostic categories are, of course, real, the way that we choose to categorise them is often influenced by systems of power. The difference between ‘health’ and ‘illness’, ‘order’ and ‘disorder’ is shaped by which kinds of bodies and minds are conducive to capitalism and the state. For example, the difference between ‘ordinary distress’ and ‘mental illness’ is often defined by its impact on your ability to work. The recent edition of the DSM, psychiatry’s comprehensive manual of ‘mental disorders’, mentions work almost 400 times – work is the central metric for diagnosis.

“When we look across history, it becomes even more obvious that diagnosis is tied to capitalist metrics of productivity: certain categories of illness have come in and out of existence as the conditions of production have changed. In the 19th century, the physician Samuel A. Cartwright proposed the diagnosis of ‘drapetomania’, which would describe enslaved Black people who fled from plantations. While we might think of drapetomania as a historical outlier among ‘true’ and ‘objective’ diagnoses, it is underpinned by the same logic as other diagnoses: it describes mental or physical attributes that make us less exploitable and profitable. In the 1920s, medical and psychological researchers became interested in a pathology called ‘accident-proneness’, which was applied to workers who were repeatedly injured in the brutal and dangerous factory conditions of the industrial revolution. Dyslexia, a diagnosis I have been given, also didn’t emerge until the market began to shift from manual labour towards jobs that relied on reading and writing, when all children were expected to be literate. Despite having problems with reading, I understand that in a world where reading and writing weren’t so central to our daily life, there would be no need to name my dyslexia, no need to diagnose it.

“As a system of state power, many of us rely on diagnosis to get the material things that we need to survive in the world. When illness or disability interferes with our ability to work, we often need a diagnosis to justify our lack of productivity – and for some, diagnosis is the necessary pathway to getting state benefits. If we want to get access to medication, treatment or other healing practices provided by the state, diagnosis is also the token that we need to get there. This is made all the more complicated by the fact that doctors have the power to dispense and withhold diagnoses, regardless of our personal desires. When it comes to psychiatric diagnosis, most of us know someone who has had to fight or wait for years for a diagnosis that would improve their quality of life – particularly in the realm of autism, ADHD and eating disorders. The internalised racism, sexism, classism or ableism of doctors often gets in the way of our ability to access the diagnoses that we want and need. Then there are those of us that are given diagnoses that we reject, a process that we also have no say in ...

“When we understand that psychiatric diagnoses are constructed, contested, and aren’t grounded in biological measures, the idea of ‘self-diagnosis’ starts to feel less dangerous or controversial. Self-diagnosis is grounded in the idea that, while the institution of medicine may hold useful technologies and expertise, we also hold valuable knowledge about our bodies and minds. I know many people who have found solace and respite in communities for various diagnoses, even if they don’t have an official diagnosis from a doctor. These spaces, which respect the wisdom offered by lived experience, can be valuable forums of knowledge-sharing and solidarity. Self-diagnosis also pushes against an oppressive diagnostic system that is so centred around notions of productivity.”

#anti-psychiatry #psychiatry #psychology #mental health #mental illness #mental disorders #diagnosis #mental healthcare #healthcare #neurodivergence #drapetomania #dyslexia #autism #adhd #benefits #disability #capitalism

69 notes · View notes

furiousgoldfish · 7 months

Note

This might sound awful, but do you think I have to be sympathetic to abusive parents who are mentally ill because they were "trying their best"? My mom and dad both have several mental health conditions and my therapist keeps insisting we need to see things from their perspective and I feel really frustrated because I don't think i can be angry and I want to be angry. I have really bad ptsd but I don't think see that as an excuse to abuse children.

Absolutely not. Your parents can find sympathy elsewhere. They do not need sympathy from the child they abused. To you, they are dangerous people who hurt you, took parts of your childhood away and probably done irreparable damage. This is not someone you need to feel sorry for! It's shocking and offensive anyone would even ask you to, they should be making up your childhood to you, and making it up to you that you never had healthy caretakers or were able to grow up normally.

If someone hurts you to the point where you have ptsd, that person is nothing else but a danger to you. You wouldn't expect someone who's been tortured to feel sympathy for their torturer's mental illness, it doesn't matter. All it matters is that you're safe from them, that they can't hurt or trigger you anymore. If they want sympathy they can ask the whole world out there to feel sorry for them. But not you. And honestly the world should prioritize you even then. You did nothing to deserve this, nothing to cause yourself to be raised by two abusive sick people, and now you have to live with ptsd. It shows that the world doesn't care how badly you're hurting, but your parent's hurts are so intensely prioritized that even you, who's been hurt by them, should feel sorry. I'm disgusted at them for expecting this from you. You keep yourself safe and you have every right to be angry. If those people were raised by your parents they'd be singing a different tune.

#abusive parents #mentally ill parents #pressure for victims to feel sorry for abusers #enablers #ptsd #victim shaming #pressuring the victim #child abuse #ask

38 notes · View notes

theivorybilledwoodpecker · 2 years

Text

Leilah Zahedi-Spung, a high-risk obstetrician in Chattanooga, Tenn., recently saw a pregnant patient with rising blood pressure who the doctor believed could be facing a serious health emergency. The patient was in her second trimester of pregnancy and her unborn baby had been diagnosed with genetic abnormalities that meant the child wasn’t expected to survive. Dr. Zahedi-Spung feared the mother was at risk of a severe form of preeclampsia that can cause seizures and ultimately death. The doctor said she thought the patient needed an abortion, but Tennessee has a total ban on the procedure. The state law, in effect since late August, allows doctors to argue the procedure was necessary to save the life of the patient, but Dr. Zahedi-Spung said she wasn’t confident the woman’s condition was dire enough to meet that standard and feared that being charged with a crime could upend her life for years, even if she eventually was vindicated. She decided to send the woman on a roughly six-hour ambulance ride to end her pregnancy in North Carolina, where she arrived with dangerously high blood pressure and signs of kidney failure, the doctor said. “She kept asking if she was going to die,” Dr. Zahedi-Spung said. “I kept saying, ‘I’m trying, I’m trying, we’re going to make it happen. We just need to get you to the right place where you can be taken care of.’” When she saw the patient a couple of weeks later, alive, the doctor said she felt a wave of relief.

For all forced birthers, may you have pregnancy complications, and may you be trapped in Tennessee.

The only defenses I've seen about no-exception bans are either that people should just die instead of having a life-saving abortion or that prosecuters won't actually prosecute. If you subscribe to the first, you're a Hitler wannabe. If the latter....what the fuck are you on!?!

No one would buy that for any law. "We don't want to prosecute doctors! We just made it illegal for them to save pregnant people's lives, but we won't actually uphold that law."

Bullshit. So may each and every one of you be trapped in Tennessee, pregnant with complications.

You can clutch your pearls and whisper about how horrible it is I wish this on you, but you forced it on everyone in Tennessee. Women, transmen, intersex, agender, etc. Even children! So why do you believe you have the right not to have it happen to you?

#Abortion #Prolifers #Prolife #tennessee #Leilah Zahedi-Spung

220 notes · View notes

lilyliveredlittlerichboy · 1 year

Text

actually i dont care why someone is fat and neither should you. maybe it's a genetic condition maybe their body is just like that maybe they've put on weight over lockdown maybe they've made active decisions that led them here. i don't care though. cus heres the thing

even if someone is making 'bad' decision, or decisions you disagree with, they're still deserving of respect as a human being. of basic decency. you still don't get to be a dick to them about it. unless they're hurting someone else or themselves maybe - but being fat doesn't hurt others.

and hey, i would usually assume that a fat person isn't being fat to be self destructive; nor that their health is necessarily in danger. chances are they Are Just Fat - and with how society treats fat people I'm usually assuming that there's not much they can do about their weight. Most fat people have tried - that's not an assumption, I say this based on the experience of many fat people I've known and seen talk about this. Most fat people have been trying to lose weight or been pressured to lose weight since they were like 12 (or younger) which is disgusting to me. i, as a perfectly skinny teenager, was made fun of for my barely existent belly - not saying this is in any way comparable to what fat people have to go through but this ridiculous pressure is faced by everyone in society!! why are we teaching children that their bodies are wrong!!!

gah. anyway, no guesses for who saw bmi charts taped up in drs office today and got just so fucking annoyed again about the bigotry against fat ppl which is just so ubiquitous once you've started seeing it. it's fucking everywhere especially in medical settings. fat people im so fucking sorry and im talking about this to anyone who will listen until fat ppl are treated like people as a rule, not the odd strange exception here and there. the world owes you better than this. i am disgusted and appalled at how my fellow humans are being treated.

#wednesday evening rants #fat liberation #body neutrality #body positivity #kinda #it's more neutrality than positivity #more angry than positive #oh well #diet culture #fatvocacy #fatphobia #advocacy tag #cus this ties into disability activism sosososososo much #fatphobia and ableism are 2 sides of the same bullshit coin #i need a tag for my own rambles

135 notes · View notes

berylcups · 23 days

Text

Yandere Files: Melone X Hostess Club Reader

CW: pregnancy, drinking, drugs, dubious consent, childhood neglect, overstimulation, foot fetish

Notes: Beryl here! Another manipulative yandere post! It’s doesn’t feel very yandere-ish this time. I guess it’s because they’re less violent/forceful and use their words more to get what they want. I hope you fruit lovers enjoy ~ This one is much lewder than the others. Minors DNI

Y/N has been dealt some pretty shitty cards in life. If they were able to describe their life in one word it would be: Unlucky. They had an inattentive mother and mentally abusive and violent stepfather. Where’s the real father? Good question. They dipped out the minute their mother announced she was pregnant.

Their mother was pregnant and just given birth again. She was too lazy to take care of 2 children at once and why does the stepfather want to raise a child that isn’t his own? So they get sent off to boarding school. This wasn’t the best option either. Y/N caused trouble, got into fights, and neglected their school work. They were smart but they only wanted to learn on their own terms.

At age 18 their family stopped financially supporting them and they were left to fend for themselves. All they could afford was a super cheap studio apartment in the dangerous part of Napoli. But good news for Y/N their luck was beginning to turn around. They got a job at a specialty cafe!

The cafe took heavy inspiration from the east for its very accommodating atmosphere. Hostesses and hosts would be pouring wine for their guests, lighting their cigarettes and cigars, sitting with them, conversing, laughing at their jokes, flirting with them, and having a non alcoholic drink with them. Y/N liked this because they liked giving and receiving attention! It’s not that they're necessarily extroverted, they just been starved of the love and attention they needed as a child.

But there’s one thing that they can’t ignore but can’t say anything about…mafia activity. Specifically Passione. But why would that bother Y/N when all they have to do is keep quiet and act like nothings wrong? Easy peasy. In fact Y/N kinda likes when Passione members come in, they spend soooooo much money and it means more money in their pocket! Getting commissions off drinks and the offers of dates for money or luxury goods is huge perk for them!

There’s a regular that comes in that none of the hostess like dealing with. The guy is good looking but he’s aloof and kinda creepy. He always asks weird questions…. Intrusive questions. He never uses his real name. Just Melone. That’s it. Weird. But being the youngest and the newest hostess Y/N was the one who had the misfortune of having to serve him.

"Buonasera signore~. I’ll be at your service tonight. May I serve you?” Y/N asks, slightly sweating. They were nervous.

He looks up from his laptop with a bored expression and looks them up and down. His teal eyes shined slightly with a bit of interest.

“Please sit down.” He said coolly and gets back to typing on his laptop .

He was weird! Just like the others said! Oh man this is going to be a very long night.

“So tell me…are you healthy?” He asks without looking up.

“Uh… what?” That question was odd and took them off guard.

“Are you in a good health condition? No health problems?” He clarified looking back up making eye contact.

Maybe he’s in the medical field… Oh well this is awkward but Y/N is being paid to humor him.

“Yes sir…I am.” Y/N replied.

“Polite too. Interesting. What’s your date of birth and blood type? Also do you smoke or drink? Illicit drugs? I’m clearly not a cop so you can be honest..” He stared back at his screen.

Things are getting weirder and weirder…why does he wanna know all this?

“Ahem… my birthdate is ________ and uh… I don’t know my blood type sorry. I don’t smoke because it’s bad on my skin but I do drink socially. No drugs…other than what I’ve been prescribed.” Y/N rambled.

“Uh uh uh. I don’t need to know why- I just need to know if you do.” He said waving his finger in front of them.

“Rude prick. I better get paid good for this….” Y/N thought.

“So you don’t know your blood type..? Hmm.” He grabbed your hand in one fluid motion and licked it.

“What the fuck?!” Y/N shrieked as they pulled their hand back.

“ Mmmm… according to your delectable fingers your blood type is ____.” He purred as he licked his lips.

“Uh great.” Y/N says in a sarcastic tone. “ Do you need a drink? Because I need to wash my hands…”

He ignored the question and excitedly starts typing on his weird keyboard putting in all the strange information he requested. His excitement was short-lived. “Oh… what a shame. You aren’t a match either. You’re too compatible with the target. Sigh…none of the AFAB here are incompatible. Why is it so difficult this time around???” He says dejectedly.

“I’m sorry..?” They didn’t know what to say.

“Well… I have an hour or two to kill before I gotta get back to work. Let’s use this time wisely and get to know each other. You’re new around here aren’t you? What’s your name?” He asked, showing an ounce of interest.

“Oh so NOW he wants to know about me?! What is up with this guy???” You thought angrily.

You swallowed the anger into the bottom of your stomach and just played along.

“Yeah I’m new. I’m Y/N and I’ve been working here for about a month and a half.” They said. “ I’m assuming you work a very important job since you're glued to your laptop.” You observed.

“Y/N…What a lovely name. It suits you.” He says. “Let’s just say my job is important and dangerous but it’s not currently being valued as much as it should right now .” He subtly hinted at being a part of the familia.

“What made you decide to work here?” He asked. “You look like you belong in university.”

“Well that’s a long story. I can’t afford it. Once I turned 18 years ago my mom and stepdad stopped financially supporting me or… just supporting me in general. So I had to fend for myself. Basically I have no family but I got my own studio apartment and a job here so I’m fully independent now and don’t need them!” Y/N explained.

“Really? That’s quite awful. You never stop being a parent just because your child grew up.” He frowned .

“Yeah…It really makes me wanna make sure that I will never be like them when I become a parent one day.”

They’re interested in having children in the future? Now Melone is genuinely curious. Not to mention that they are healthy and their Zodiac lines right up there with his. Could this be the one? He’s tried so many times but things never seemed to work out for some reason… Well, at least they made good surrogates for Junior. Y/N might be the right soul mate this time!

“Are you free next Sunday?” He asked. “ I want to get to know you better. We could go to that nice park in the good part of town.”

He didn’t give off the best first impression but Y/N was a kind person. Why not give him a chance? It’s not the first time they went on a date with one of their patrons. Maybe they will get another Gucci purse or pair of high heels out of it!

“Sure. Sounds like it will be fun! Do you want me to meet you there or are you gonna meet me at my place?” Y/N asked cheerfully.

“Di molto bene! I’ll meet you at your place then.” He says excitedly.

Y/N wrote down their phone number and address on his receipt and that concluded their meeting for the night.

This might have been a bad idea. Let’s see how it plays out.

——————————-

The moment he sees your tiny cramped apartment he’s internally frowning. That’s no place to start a family. Hand me down furniture and outdated amenities and creepy neighbors…creepy even for him? That’s saying something!

“I never been on a bike before so I’m a little scared.” You confessed and he just smiles and pats on the space behind him.

“Don’t worry! I won’t go that fast! Just hold on to me nice and tight. It’s only a 5 minute drive so it won’t be long.” He said trying to ease your anxiety.

He loved how you clung to him the whole time. Feeling your chest against his back made his thoughts wander to what they looked like without clothing concealing them. These types of thoughts are not new to him of course. So he's easily able to tame his cock from waking up.

He didn’t expect you to be distracted the whole time though. While sitting on the grass at the park after a long walk he kept rambling about pseudoscience and zodiac signs. He stopped for a moment to see what you were looking at. You were looking over at the playground. A mother was kneeling in front of their crying daughter. She was putting a bandage on the little girls scraped knee and kissed it.

He looked at you and you had a mix of emotions all over you. Sadness, happiness, jealousy, confusion…it was a complicated look.

“I wish that were me…” you sighed. “ such a loving family. I want that too.”

He learned a lot about you that day. You were perfect for him. You were neglected and love starved, perfect for the taking. And you’re open to having children! You’re on his wavelength! Oh he’s not going to let you go.

He visits you often at the cafe. He always specifically requests for you and no one else. The others are jealous that you're able to catch his attention and he isn’t creepy towards you. He asks for dates often and buys lots of drinks so you make lots of money from him. He still asks odd questions from time to time…like favorite Kama sutra position , and when your menstrual cycle is. But he’s good at slowly manipulating you into normalizing this behavior. He likes you sitting in his lap while you two talk. He says close contact releases oxytocin.

Many of his dates include shoe and lingerie shopping at the department store. He always insists on putting the shoes on your feet for you. He enjoys massaging your feet too when they’re sore from all the walking. He has to hold back the urge to want to suck on your toes since you’re both in public. But he definitely can’t hold back his hard on seeing you in luxury brand 5 inch heels. Good thing he’s wearing civilian clothes for most of these dates, that jumpsuit wouldn’t hide a damn thing.

Everything is running smoothly. He’s gained your trust, now all he has to do is get you inside his house.

This time though he takes you to hang out at his house. He gets you a glass after glass of wine to make sure you’re nice and drunk so you’re easy to take advantage of. He’s not going to be able to keep his hands off of you and you’re too drunk to say no. He’s feeling you up and shoving his tongue inside your mouth and you’re lazily just reciprocating not really understanding what’s going on but just feeling the warmth build up inside you.

You’re going to wake up in bed with him with no recollection of what happened the night before. He’s just clinging to you, beaming that finally awake.

“Buongiorno Y/N~. Did you sleep well? Last night was… amazing.” He pulled you in close and nuzzled into your chest.

The first time was a little concerning but you trusted him. You assumed you wanted it but just don’t remember. It’s a little awkward but you both reached a huge milestone in your relationship! That’s supposed to be a good thing! You just wished you could remember it…

He uses his manipulation skills to convince you to move in with him and quit your job.

“I think it would be for the best if you got out of that dangerous apartment and moved in with me. I worry so much for your safety. We already spend so much time together, don’t you want to take our relationship to the next level? Also about your job… I’m not really happy with you spending time with other guys. I know it’s just business but I can’t help but feel jealous of another man who even looks at you! You understand right?”

He becomes more controlling once you move in. You cannot leave the house without his verbal permission. And don’t bother trying sneaking out, he has cameras everywhere they’re all linked to his laptop.

He sneaks prenatal vitamins into your food when he cooks for you. The food is always fantastically seasoned so that you can’t taste the pill.

He has a massive sexual appetite and if you can’t keep up with him that’s perfectly okay! Because he’ll give you aphrodisiacs to help with that. Whether you want to or not.

He keeps up with your menstrual cycle and knows when you’re ovulating. When you’re ovulating is when he’s the most ruthless.

He has you nearly bent in half with your legs between your head as he’s pussy drunk thrusting hard and it’s just making lewd squelching noises. He came in you 3 times already and intends on cumming even more deep into your cunt in hopes of you conceiving his children. You're overstimulated and your cunt is overflowing with his cum as he’s panting praises.

“Oh love! You’re slutty pussy keeps pulling me back in~! You’re so addictive that I can’t stop! I can’t wait to see you full and round with my child~! You're going to be a wonderful parent!”

You’re in the bathroom crying and looking at the positive pregnancy test. You don’t know what to do. You wanted a family but everything is happening so fast! You’re afraid of being as bad as your own parents. Thankfully Melone is always here to comfort you.

“You're pregnant? Di molto!!! That’s wonderful news! …why are you crying?” He’s confused.

“I’m scared I won’t be a good parent. I don’t what it’s like to be a good one! I don’t even know how to hold a baby !” You sobbed.

He wiped away your tears and gave you a big warm hug.

“Oh love~. You have nothing to worry about. You’re going to be a great parent I promise! You may not have had the best upbringing but I’ll make sure you and the baby are well taken care of.” He said kissing your forehead. “ You can always trust me.”

You can always trust Melone! He’s very trustworthy. As long as you’re willing to make a big family with him you have a very fruitful future ahead of you!

#jjba #la squadra #jjba part 5 #jjba x reader #la squadra x reader #la squadra esecuzioni #jojo melone #jjba melone #melone x reader #jjba Melone x reader #jojo Melone x reader #minors dni

11 notes · View notes

moonfeatherblue · 28 days

Text

BEFORE I FORGET AGAIN here are all the notes from our latest brainstorming stream ~

“What If Beauty Could Literally Steal Your Breath?”

Random Thoughts

We see something beautiful to us, we start turning blue and suffocating; can cause death if not treatment, stop exposure, etc

Beauty is subjective; different things would affect different people

Could be scenarios where only a certain type of beauty e.g. a person’s physical beauty is causing the affliction; could also be all forms of beauty

People could be suffocating over – movies; books; video games; faces of their children or loved ones; landscapes; paintings; music; different genres of music; smells –

Could smelling a rose kill you?

Concepts or ideas can also be beautiful, they could also affect certain people

Dating will be awkward and potentially dangerous

Spending time with loved ones could become very difficult

Oxygen tanks

Could the breath stolen by beauty be collected and used for e.g. filling oxygen tanks; spells; etc

Would whatever steals the breath (if it’s not a natural affliction) gain life or improvement in life?

Can different levels of beauty affect differently; cute kitten video make you wheeze a little, but looking at Mt Fuji could make you faint – but again, different for different people

If it’s a natural affliction, symptoms similar to asthma attack (mild to severe); probably no ‘breath collected’

If it’s a nefarious e.g. curse, maybe built into the spell for breath to be collected, or the caster of the spell needs to be nearby

Could also be affected by dreams in your sleep – wake up gasping and/or dead

Smell of the air beautiful – infinite loop

If find yourself extremely physically attractive, could you be affected?

If simply like your looks, could you be affected?

If you have a healthy relationship with yourself and ‘love yourself’, could you be affected?

Plastic surgery to diminish looks to stop hurting your loved ones; would that work? Your loved ones love you, not how you look; beautiful due to personality/soul, beautiful no matter how you look; could be tried in pandemic scenario but found to not be very effective?

Soul surgery???

Does love equate to beauty? Depends on situation/scenario/different people – so subjective

What if it’s only beautiful humans that cause the affliction, not art, nature, etc?

What about the poor people who find something beautiful in everything?

Use as an excuse to get out of e.g. classes – I find the language beautiful!!!

If you do find a particular language beautiful, hearing it would affect your breathing; limit the places you could travel

What about the poor people who find Vtuber feet beautiful??? WHAT ABOUT THEM???

Favourite food could affect you – would no longer be able to eat it

Some people not affected by any beauty at all

How powerful a spell would be required to make a singular person lose breath at the sight of beauty? What about many people at once? If it’s a powerful spell, it might take a novice a huge amount of power, but a master might be able to do it with a click of their fingers

Curse scenario – how painful is it to lose breath? Depend on strength of that particular spell; drawn out of lungs and can’t breathe it back – very distressing; how long does it last? Until death? Just until they have the breath currently in your lungs? Not preventing from breathing in again?

Natural affliction scenario – similar to asthma, other breathing conditions; painful and distressing to that degree

Maybe doesn’t cause any huge health issues – just annoying; causes huge cough, like getting the wind knocked out of you, but no more permanent damage

Two types of fear – one associated with feelings of suffocation without a way to stop it, other is everything else – IF THIS WAS A CURSE SCENARIO this might be quite pertinent, some sort of reasoning behind this curse?

WHAT IF a beautiful person was cursed so everyone who sees them gets the air pulled out of their lungs?

Is breath close to life in some religions; could there be religious implications

What if it’s widely believed those affected – it’s not their breath being pulled out of them, but their soul? What would that lead to – discrimination against the ‘soulless’ sort of thing

THE PLAUGE

Concept for counterbalancing a superpower –

Most beautiful person in a village being accused of being a witch and stealing someone’s soul

Beauty trials instead of witch trials

IN THE CURSE SCENARIO – maybe the curse only works if you see the cursed person’s body directly and wearing 100% covering counters the curse – full long-sleeved dresses and full face-covering veils very popular and sensible

A Medusa situation

Curse scenario – curse only takes oxygen out of someone’s lungs in a manner so they do not realise they are suffocating

What if beauty replaces the oxygen in your lungs with something else (e.g. macaroni; roses); beauty gas replaces?

Roses in the lungs disease; a major fanfic trope; cough out petals if you’re bottling your love feelings; either confess love or forget about the person you love; if untreated leads to death

Beautiful voice can steal your breath

CURSE SCENARIO - If a person’s ambition is perceived as beautiful and they curse someone and steal their breath, would their own ambition, etc, become more beautiful

Beauty as a power without using the overused trope of charm is a good idea

Could this be a superpower – your face/voice/personality/etc can steal people’s breath – how could you use this power; what difficulties will you face in life; etc

What would the embodiment of beauty be?

Would you know you find someone you like if you lose your breath? Probably a good indication

World ugly-fying filter for extra sensitive people so they can leave the house

CURSE SCENARIO – sorcerer collecting breath so their idea, dream, ambition, etc, gains so much breath it can will a body/form into existence, become personified; could someone literally make a god?

CURSE SCENARIO – what if when you steal someone’s breath, you take it for yourself, increasing your own beauty (in the eyes of your society)

Breath transfusions

Iron lungs – beauty industry evolves around accessories and mods for iron lungs, etc

Could pets, animals, (plants??) also be affected?

Mosquitos would go extinct??? Blood so beautiful???

Use of robots and AI for art; become cyborgs to avoid art and beauty

Beauty deities could die out from declining numbers of believers

What if being ‘ugly’ can fill someone’s lungs with oxygen?? ‘Ugly’ people become saviours

Photo of ** become a creepy pasta/urban legend, but actually true

Beauty is a Lovecraftian eldritch being that gains power from each breath taken

Are lungs and gills equal? If not, research into humans developing gills and becoming amphibious

If two ‘ugly’ people dated, could they permanently live in space/water if their lungs are constantly filling with oxygen?

Mermaid HRT (hormone replacement therapy); need to know actually afflicted by disease and it’s not a fetish; or heart transplant – WHAT ABOUT THE MERMAIDS

What if people get systematically tested for what type of people (or other things) they find attractive and what archetype of beauty they are – like blood types; medical update during yearly physicals, etc, part of regular blood tests, monitor changes as grow

Sirens – become what we individually find most attractive; sirens stealing breath?

Pinocchio-like – become more of a ‘real person’ by being the most beautiful, gaining the most life/beauty/etc; ‘contest’ between unscrupulous sorcerers to gather the most breath/life/beauty

SHOW IDEA – near extinction of human males; all boys captured and on government-mandated dating shows – MAKE IT A ROMCOM

Treatment for curse – depend on strength of the curse; whether it’s short or long term; are there any antidotes? If not, at the mercy of the sorcerer

If a mental health or other disorder due to chemical imbalances or other difficulties in the body, treatment similar to other mental health/respiratory diseases – drugs, CBT, relaxation, decreasing stress, etc

Potential of social pension, etc, if afflicted by this – if it’s a rare thing, probably; if it’s a pandemic, no

Family issues – parents not being able to raise their children, unable to spend much time with them, affect on the children emotionally, developmentally

Spending infancy in opaque incubator; light cycles and stimulus provided within?

Would baby beauty affect all people or just family – could all babies be raised in a box? What age would they come out?

Insurance issues

Importance of visual beauty decreases, leads to auditory beauty being the most dominant form, which in turn leads to auditory beauty causing more problems; need to soundproof incubators, etc; deadly loop

ID cards – fingerprints, etc, instead of faces

Difficulties getting medical treatment?

So in love willing to die for each other – toxic relationship

Logos not exist since someone could find it beautiful

Beauty could become something like alcohol, cigarettes, recreational drugs – people know it’s dangerous, but do it for the euphoria

Compare ‘beauty tasting’ to wine tasting

Beauty battles- UNBREATHE

Disease would produce many forms of ableism – taunting due to avoiding beauty, etc

A Rare Affliction

Mental health disorder; when affected by beauty, body seizes up, affects the trachea and the lungs, etc, creates asthma-like symptoms

Permanent or a curable affliction

Could be related to neurodivergence

Minimise exposure to beauty; need to find out exactly what you find beautiful in order to avoid it

If found self beautiful and were affected by it, get rid of all your mirrors!

Minimise contact with family and friends for your health

Lead to depression

Treatments – if natural, inhalers, relaxation therapy, etc could work for mild to moderate cases; difficult to treat severe attacks; if it’s a mental health disorder or chemical imbalances causes breathing difficulties, probably some kind of treatment

What kind of treatment if it’s a curse

Like many disabilities, chronic disease – live your life, but need meds, assistance tools, regular care, etc

A Global Pandemic

Pandemic cycles as beauty standards change to something once believed safe

People naturally start finding other things beautiful that once they didn’t find beautiful in a self-preservation reflex, but now THAT’S beautiful, so that starts affecting them, too = cycles

Beauty becomes suppressed in all its forms

Oxygen would become a black market item; ridiculously expensive and hard to get; hoarded

“Beautiful” people encouraged/forced to wear masks, etc

There will always be a “most beautiful”; doesn’t matter how ugly masks, clothes, etc, are; logical conclusion (in the beginning) is to try to avoid beauty

Some people would try to capitalize on the situation – selling oxygen at high prices; if the curse scenario, collecting all the oxygen and selling it again;

Military uses – send something beautiful to the enemy to act as a debuff

Selling diet air for a good discount

Small percentage of people immune and run secretive beauty clubs; poetry readings; in dystopian future sort of thing

IN THE BEGINNING – preventative measures; increased respiratory clinics everywhere; warnings outside of art museums, libraries, famous natural sites, etc

Only so much preventative measures can do – when beauty is so subjective (people could be dropping with every rainbow) and the beauty cycles that are starting

‘Beauty’ starts being controlled; libraries, galleries, art and creative expression in general start being suppressed; to many restrictions; and eventually outlawed

Libraries would be burned; book bonfires; art bonfires; musical instruments bonfires; natural world desecrated – ALL IN THE SAKE OF HEALTH

No one able to appreciate things like fine dining any more; fancy chefs out of a job

People not affected by beauty at all in a prime position to EXPLOIT

A curse gone out of control; evil magical people exploiting it stealing breath

Surge in kidnappings – can intentionally use beauty to knock people out and kidnap them

If it’s only people you find beautiful that causes the breath loss, what if everyone is only affected by those genders you are sexually attracted to? Is it just sexual attraction or is it romantic attraction, as well? (does not include family members, etc, that you love and find beautiful)

HUGE EFFECT ON POPULATION

What does society look like in 100 years if this beauty pandemic is ongoing; if all forms of beauty – becoming a drab bunker society in which creativity is shunned, all forms of beauty shunned, self-expression punished; secret beauty club for immune people; black market in beauty for those willing to risk their breath just to experience beauty; probably rebellions brewing (or constantly being stamped out) in this bunker society

What would happen with the beauty industry?

Beauty as a drug and erotic asphyxiation being common; like strip clubs but removing masks not clothes

IF BEAUTY STEALS BREATH AND UGLINESS GIVES IT (societal norms) – eventually what is beautiful and ugly might completely swap; cycles

Everything becomes very bland to prevent declining population – population and crowd control through beauty

Self harm increases to diminish beauty and protect others – no one would want to be beautiful; what about cycling beauty standards, things that are ugly would soon become beautiful to most people

Dystopian beauty soldiers

Movies, tv shows, etc, temporarily banned until beauty standards switch around; keep cycling

If you'd like to write anything inspired by our lovely and mildly disturbing brainstorming session - be it a six-word story, a sentence, a drabble, a paragraph, a poem, a play, a short story, a novella, a novel plan, or something else entirely - please, write it and share it with us! If everyone is comfortable with making a Scribble Hub account, this might be a good way to keep all our writings together (please don't panic about cover art - any random free-to-use picture related to your story is perfectly perfect). Please use #MacGuffinsUwrite in the synopsis, and perhaps include an @moonfeatherblue just to grab my attention! If you're not comfortable with Scribble Hub, don't worry! Please post where you are comfortable, use the hashtag, and maybe let me know with a VOD comment so I know to track it down.

You'll have a little longer this time around due to Blue's family holiday adventure coming up - I'll be reading all your stories on 6 May at 10 am aest (assuming all goes to schedule). If you could try to have your stories posted by the day before, that would be very much appreciated 💙✨

#writing #indie vtuber #brainstorming #creative writing #macguffinsuwrite #blue mooney #moonfeatherblue #writeblr #vtubers of tumblr #envtuber #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #english vtuber #writing vtuber #what if beauty could literally steal your breath

7 notes · View notes