#they bond over that very sadistically its overwhelming

[r3ynah]

Family of Distinguished People.

So like what if, the Fenton family is just a family full of heroes, villains, and vigilantes. like.. just imagine a long line of people that had or has contributed to the world somehow. Like the Fenton parents as Supervillains, Jazz as a Vigilante, Danny as Hero. Dani just decides to travel not too interested, but does help with her family if needed, Dan does the same thing.

BUT WHAT IF joker is actually a close relative of the Fenton Family (ex. Uncle, Cousin,Family Friend) and like he's just there all happy with his (found)family during family reunions, birthdays and shit.

And the batfam are just like so confused and stressed to why the joker goes missing once a month.

While Joker is literally having a game of Monopoly with the elementary kids at amity park (the kids couldn't bother, they've saw scarier things they handled scarier things) cue Joker giving the kids a hundred dollars because he lost.

This is just one of my what if prompts, that i got locked up in a vault. Might delete this later who knows.

[divinerapturesys]

Welcome to my Ted Talk about AsPD, or Antisocial Personality Disorder, which the internet likes to coin as sociopath 👌🏻 if you don’t like long infodumps about stigmatized mental disorders from someone who is diagnosed, move on.

Quick toxic rundown: People with AsPD are generally characterized as emotionless, violent, manipulative abusers who kill animals and like to make other people their bitches. The biggest pet peeve we have is the emotionless, sadistic and abusive generalization.

Personally, we are highly neurotic, with highs and lows of: depression, frantic drive, self abuse tactics, chronic fear, lapses of rejection, overwhelming over-analyzation, grey area thinking, false goods and false bads, ultimatums, obsessive compulsive behavior, harsh self demands, and irritability.

AsPD is a disorder that is caused primarily (according to current research) by trauma and abuse in childhood; most notably being emotional neglect and absent caregivers that cause a child to have emotional shutdowns and repression episodes in an attempt to self soothe. Primary caregivers who do not bond with their children are also a factor. Children learn how to behave from those around them. If a primary caregiver is emotionally distant and unavailable, children will learn that is normal behavior and that’s how people are. If a primary caregiver does not provide empathy and sympathy during moments of distress and fear, children will learn that aloofness and disregard of others feelings is normal behavior. If a primary caregiver does not keep a child safe, children will learn that they should not prioritize their own safety or the safety of others. You can find my follow up post regarding this here.

Neglected and abused children often act out trying to get attention and help, often acting out in bad ways because they lack the ability to articulate what they’re feeling and what is happening to them. The pipeline for AsPD typically is: Oppositional Defiance Disorder as a child, Conduct Disorder as a teen, AsPD as an adult. There are a lot of warning signs cueing that AsPD is becoming a risk for development, but often kids do not have a support system to help negate it as it’s their support system that is usually a factor in its creation.

Being AsPD is like being an emotional La Croix 70% of the time. If you’re depressed, then it’s like someone in the other room has depression and is telling you about it. The other 30% of the time, if you’re depressed, your brain doesn’t understand how to handle it so it’s an ultimatum between doing something drastic to remove the Trigger or ignoring and dissociating for days on end.

People with AsPD are very good at ignoring things. Honestly it’s problematic as fuck but it’s not hard to ignore major issues when you just, don’t care. It’s not in the terms of being cruel or making ourselves not care, but the fact that finding the emotional willpower is so far out of our feasible reach we don’t do it. This causes us to piss people off because we don’t have the capacity to care as much as they want us to, even if we can and do to an extent.

Think of it this way: empathy/sympathy is a deep tub of water that everyone has. They can easily fill their measuring cup for the needed amount of empathy without any issues and it’s easy for them. People with AsPD don’t have a tub of water. We have shallow skillet. When we try to dip our cup to fill it, we can’t, it always comes up short and it is difficult to get any water in it as there is no room for the cup to dive. Our ability to care is limited because we do not have the same emotional resources everyone else does.

❌ False Positives & False Negatives ❌

I operate on what I’ve learned are called false positives and false negatives. These are things that are trained into the brain from an early age based off of childhood trauma and other factors. False positives are a distorted version of why we do something to help ourself and for our own good, meanwhile a false negative is something we do because it’s a threat, or based out of fear.

❌ Some of my false positives:

- It is good to be afraid of nothing

- It is good to adapt to someone’s personality if they are stronger than you

- It is good to isolate yourself

- It is good to be a silver tongue because you can get into any place you want

- It is good to become a social chameleon and shape yourself to whatever those around you need/want most, because then you have no chance of being abandoned

❌ Some of my false negatives, which can explain the false positives as well as core beliefs:

- it is bad to be afraid, if I am afraid then I am vulnerable and it can be used against me

- It is bad to be emotional or show concern for others emotions because they do not care for mine

- It is bad to be able to be exploited, because I believe it is everywhere

- It is bad to allow myself to be bored, because boredom begets bad thoughts and no one can or wants to help me when I spiral

- It is bad to not shape yourself to the social circle, because people quickly grow tired of those who do not match them perfectly and being discarded means I failed

My core beliefs can be viewed as the root for the false positives and negatives, because they are based on the core of trauma, abuse and neglect. They come from patterns and instances that make someone with AsPD become the opposite of what they experienced:

- eat or be eaten

- If I don’t show that my bite is worse than my bark, I will be taken advantage of and I must remain on top because the ones on top are safe

- I must look out for myself because nobody will do it for me

- It doesn’t matter what happens to me, therefore it doesn’t matter what people think of me

- If I cannot do something well, then I should not do it at all

- If you are dependent on others for emotional and mental well being, you are weak, therefore I must isolate myself to avoid becoming codependent and a burden and useless

- If I can handle the stress of a situation better than everyone else, therefore I will keep the problem (financial, emotional, mental, etc) to myself to reduce chances of being abandoned due to failure of perfection

People with AsPD are hard to get along with. We often:

- are always anticipating a fight

- lack respect for authority

- ignore social structures to an extent

- tendency to lie if it’ll lessen punishment or if we feel the lie is more acceptable than our actions

- limit social support because it’s wrong to be dependent on others

- have an inflated view of our own importance — which turns into a self ridicule for believing someome like me could be found important to others —

- can be rude and inconsiderate of others feelings somewhat unintentionally

- are unable to read the correct social cues in relation to empathy towards people and animals

- am constantly confused by others dependence upon empathy and inability to make desicions from logic based standpoints

We can’t speak for everyone who has AsPD, nor are we saying that no one with AsPD is capable of being a murderer/abuser etc. but we are saying that y’all need to stop automatically classifying someone as a certain “type” as soon as you know about their disorder.

One last thing I do want to point out is that it is not uncommon for people with AsPD to derive some sort of enjoyment in causing harm, doing something illegal, hurting someone or animals, etc. This entirely stems from lack of environmental control as a child. Being able to control what happens to others or being able to control the things you say or do that hurts someone else is a hefty high to get addicted to; it soothes the underlying itch of not being able to control your own trauma and abuse, so in turn you push these behaviors onto others and enjoy it because it gives you a sense of power and control. Some people with AsPD do genuinely love hurting others, and some enjoy hurting others when they believe it’s deserved or their ire has been stoked. Some enjoy causing pain to those they think deserve it, and others don’t care who they hurt as long as they feel like they’re in control of the situation.

Hope this have some insight into AsPD 🤙🏻 if y’all have any questions, shoot.

[flying-elliska]

Just binge read the Bone Season series by Samantha Shannon and !!!!!! amazing. Now I want to yell about it for a bit, bear with me (essay incoming sorry)

- the concept already, urban fantasy dystopia, just feels both so fresh and so obvious it's surprising it's not more of a Thing, and the world building is next level. the modern technology + Victorian aesthetics is not just cool (although it is) it evokes the fact that Victorian England was a brutal, very unequal and fucked up society, so it really fits a dystopia. Plus Scion is also an evil empire that invades other countries, which is also thematically relevant, as is the fact that the MC is Irish.

- I'm obsessed with the concept of a magical mob and Underworld (unsurprisingly) and people who are pushed to the margins of society because their very existence has been outlawed and bond together to find freedom but are also forced to exist in a state of constant brutality and the damage it all does

- the first book throws a lot of plot and world building at you in ways that can be a bit overwhelming and confusing, and doesn't give you a lot of time to connect emotionally to the characters, so that took me a while, but it's really worth pushing through for, i love them all now.

- I love the main character, Paige, so much. she's a survivor ; clever, witty, action oriented and very down to earth ; she's also very competent in ways that feel earned, and interestingly flawed, not some gratuitous emotionless Strong Female Character with plot armor or a 'not like other girls' complex. She's proud and she has a mean, ruthless streak. She's brave, too loyal for her own good, and impulsive to the point of recklessness, and sometimes her gambles pay off and sometimes she has to pay a very heavy price for them (it made me yell at the page several times). It's really cool to see a female MC that is so invested in the politics of her world. I hate that so many female mains in fantasy or dystopia are these isolated loners who hate politics, only really care about a handful of people and want to retire to their husband/2.5 kids happy ending as fast as possible, with a plot-line that focuses over personal development rather than political goals, because it sends this weird message that women are not meant to be in the public space. (Not making this into a rant about the Shadow and Bone books but lol I could)

Paige has to shoulder massive burdens that nobody in their right mind should want and that's understandable, but you do get the sense that she enjoys being a criminal, running free and scheming and climbing over roofs and outwitting her enemies and sticking it to the government. She doubts herself sometimes, worries about people only valuing her for her powers, but she doesn't have a lot of time to waste on self-consciousness, angsting or moping about her feelings. It's very empowering to read. And she's fiercely compassionate in moments where it's actually very dangerous for her to be. She has this constant struggle between the part of her that finds injustice intolerable and the part of her that is grimly pragmatic. This is exactly what women in fiction have been excluded from for too long, complex dilemmas about action and morality taken seriously, not just love triangle shit. It's great. Although wow does she deserve a break. Ouch. Baby </3

- the world is incredibly fucked up but there seems to be no sexism/homophobia/racism, which is refreshing to read. the main romance is m/f but there's a lot of ambient queerness, just because and not to 'make a point' ; the author has confirmed that the MC is demisexual, her bff is gay, the love interest is pan, there's a badass trans commander/mob boss, you get randomly informed that this henchwoman has a wife or that this mobster is trying to save his boyfriend, it's great (and it's not a word-of-god after the fact thing like jkr it's actually shown on the page, they just don't use any labels)

- the main romance is a slow build that is very low-key at first, enemies to reluctant allies to friends to lovers, but becomes really powerful over time. the fact that the MC is demi means it can't rely on 'omg so hot i can't stop thinking about him!' clichés - nothing wrong with attraction at first sight but it often leads to lazy storytelling and irritating instalove, tell over show romances. the characters are drawn to each other but it's more of a meeting of minds and souls at first, admiration and common goals, and their actions are still first and foremost guided by strategy, not sentiment. (sidenote I've often wondered if i wasn't at least a little demi myself. that would explain why i have such high standards for credible romance lmao.) also there's a significant power imbalance at the start but it gets very much deconstructed before anything can happen and it's an interesting negotiation. Warden could easily have fit in the 'brooding immortal douchebags' category but there's an alienness and gentleness to him that lifts him above that, along with the respect and space he gives to Paige and their shared experience of trauma and hopes for a better world. Her hot-headedness and his calm, deadpan sort-of-humor play off each other really well. Also I love the idea that develops over the series that their connection isn't a distraction from their fight but that it makes them stronger and allows them to resist and find solace from the deluge of constant horror that is their world. their whole dynamic in s4...no words. also the second time i read a scene where one character is bandaging the other's wounds and there's touch aversion involved and like, I LOVE that.

- lots of complex different bad guys. some are just brutes, some are sadistic masterminds with superiority complexes, some are deceptive and manipulative and morally ambiguous. love that the Big Bad Guy is a woman - female characters being fully realized means that sometimes, they're just incredibly evil (as long as it's not tied to their gender, i love that). Paige and Jaxon's relationship is fascinating - he's a terrible, manipulative person but i do feel in his own way, he cares about her and wants to see her thrive ; but that's not necessarily a good thing as he sees it as a justification to make her go through awful things. She knows he's awful but she can't get over the fact that he took her in, taught her, believed in her and gave her a sense of belonging and freedom when nobody else did ; she was super proud of being his mollisher and it makes sense it would take time for her to rebuild her sense of self without that, on her own. I like that the ambiguity isn't resolved (it's also a very good illustration of how emotionally abusive parental dynamics can get their hooks in you). The fact that he's aroace really works there too, could have been a lot creepier otherwise and i feel that's really not the point.

- also it's really cool how each book really feels like its own thing, it never feels repetitive, there are huge twists and a shift of focus each time - the penal colony in Oxford in the first, the London Underworld in the second, traveling through England in the third, Paris in the fourth, etc. The pace is pretty breakneck and i wasn't bored for one moment - actually at times i would have liked more quiet moments w the characters. There are two novellas that focus more on that and the second one is an exploration of trauma and recovery that's particularly hard hitting and beautiful. The first book does feel like a beginner novel, it's a bit clunky in terms of exposition, pacing and character development etc ; and there are moments where all the violence and brutality feel a bit repetitive ; but overall the story builds up so beautifully and in so many complex ways it's just really worth it and it's not for nothing i read the four books and two novellas in five days. just have to wait for the next one now though argh

- anyway more people should read it

[unholyplumpprincess]

Claudette Sandwich

Commission for someone who would like to be left anonymous. The basic idea was Huntress and the Plague making a Claudette sandwich and having a sorta silent war over her. And oh, don’t we all wish to be adored by two massive lady killers with kissable faces?

Summary:  In which the Entity is tired of its killers and survivors not taking its games seriously and gives them a break. A break in which many survivors use to go fuck their respective lovers. Claudette takes this time to spend with her two favorite women.

Reblogs > Likes. Please Reblogs if you hit Like! :D

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked on sight!!!

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Relationship: Claudette/Huntress and Claudette/Plague

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Both Claudette and Huntress are trans women with lingo being cock/dick, Claudette has autism and there are notes of it, Mentions of taking E and the side effects that come with it, possessiveness, outside sex, but for the most part p tame! No ‘out there’ kinks here!

Words: 4.2k

___________________

Each trial was made just right, just so, just enough to be a challenge and to provide the Entity with what it wanted.  Bloodshed , fear, screams, anything to feed its sadistic desires.  

When it came down to it, the survivors were getting better at surviving, and the killers were losing their patience. The void and stretch between the two separate teams of pawns in the Entity’s  never-ending  game were starting to get tired. Some survivors would mock its killers, and the killers would equally taunt back- neither hitting the other.  

Well, the Entity supposed a game was only fun with variety and breaks, were they not? All of their pawns had been mortals at some point with...feelings- the spidery creature could gag at the very thought. Feelings.  

How unfortunate.  

~Rest under the cut~

It’s not as if it does not notice how its killers play the game either. As long as they bring a necessary amount of sacrifices and play the game in a way involving blood and screams, the Entity is normally pleased. No, recently, its killers have gotten...attached to certain survivors. Not in the fun way of obsessions like The Shape, The Nightmare, or the Demogorgon had, where their paired survivors were in their blood to hunt down first.  

No, examples being like how The Trapper would never miss anyone, and yet Meg Thomas always just barely escaped his clutches. And if she WAS in his clutches,  somehow,  she’d always escape. How curious, the Entity had thought, until it had watched closer as she taunted the big beast and went so far as to pull up her top and flash him and leave its most skilled predator at a loss of what to do.  

No. No, no, no, these games would need a break just like any other game.  

So, what’s an all-seeing Entity to do?   

It sneaks into the survivors’ dreams to let them know what the new rules are. It requests a council from its very own group of killers to explain the circumstances without letting them know who it had seen becoming ‘merciful’ to who.  However  its killers played their game and got their own satisfaction was their own interests.  

The situation was simple. Survivors and killers would be allowed to mingle for two weeks, and then the games would begin again.  

And oh, how did the Entity love the thought of the inevitably delicious taste of agony and betrayal when they would become friendly, only to realize in the upcoming matches they would be downed by the very hand they held. Whether out of duty, or the thrill of the kill.  

What it can feel currently, however, is the joy coming off specific survivors in their dreams when it alerts them to the changes.  

Sweet little Claudette had always been a favorite of the Entity’s. She had come into this world meek and kind, and still was ever so kind, even when she bared her teeth and held her ground against killers. How kind, she was, standing in the way of a hit to rescue her fellow survivors. Or take the last few daring seconds to finish a generator, just to buy her team some time. Always there to be the optimistic sunshine in the time of fog and gloom.   

So kind, and so idiotic, if you asked the Entity.  

Yet, it seems her kind, sweet nature had gathered the attention of two of its killers.  

The Huntress was a woman that the Entity adored for her simplicity. Her own agony in inability to carry child had been delicious all on her own, then the desire, the hunger to kill anyone who stood in her way. And yet, she found some sort of requiem in Claudette. Somewhere where her mortality and morals lie. Claudette brought something out in her that was protective and...human.  

Claudette liked to explain various herbs and insects to Anna, holding a book she had gotten in reward for escaping one day. She holds it up high for the taller woman who points at the pictures and then to her mouth to ask if they are edible. In small ways they bond in the small moments when they are not running away or at each other. In these small ways, they grow to adore each other.  

And a newer killer, yet still old enough to not be considered a new addition; The Plague. Oh, how her agony was worn on her cheek for all to see. The acts of killing were acts of devotion in her eyes- the Entity her new god to appease and to serve. She had no Disciples to guide, no need for her selflessness from the past. She devoted herself into each kill and looked to the Entity like a god from her realm and served it as such.  

Yet with Claudette, the kind survivor had held her hands as if they had not been scarred. Kissing each fingertip with murmured words of sweetness that had left Adiris speechless and shy. A new look for her, since the devotion became more interesting whispers as she was on her knees. Words that others may not know the tongue of, but to a god of many voices, the Entity could make out the...love.  

It could gag.  

But truly, was the Entity not the god of this realm? In the end, it didn’t matter who thought what, as long as they all played the game and gave the Entity what it always wanted. Who was it to matter if a god played a role here?  

As always, it would keep playing its game. For now, the Entity lets its presence stop overwhelming the surrounding area of the survivor’s camp. Paths lead into the forest all around, marked with wooden signs stating the area it would lead as well as a dirt or cobblestone path leading in that direction.  

There is no sun to be provided, the overhead still dark and clouded with a full moon serving for most of the light. Fireflies blossom in surrounding areas, orange rather than their  normal  yellow glow.  

At first, most survivors are wary. Claudette can’t blame Nancy and Steve for not being too thrilled to move from their cabin, nor Laurie or Quentin for avoiding the areas marked with familiar realms that make their skin crawl. She could almost laugh at the eagerness from Nea and Jake, however, both eagerly talking of the Wraith as if he were some shared boyfriend that they were  gossiping  about.  

It almost felt normal.  

Almost.  

The first day, Claudette finds herself wandering into the woods through a split path. The Red Forest splitting into a grounded area, wet, muddy area with a wooden path leading there. Small flowers sprout from the wooden planks beneath her feet, the pleasant aroma being revealed of the forest that never seemed to stop sprinkling small amounts of rain. The heavy treetops overhead almost acted like their very own light, filtering deep blues through the area.  

Anna is a territorial  woman;  It is no surprise for her to find Claudette before the survivor can find her. There’s a quietness that edges between them, a  good few feet of distance  as Claudette waits patiently where she’s at, shuffling her feet a bit.  

Claudette was not a person who spoke very many words. She found it hard to get it out, preferring to delve into books and be in her own little world. Bugs, botany, rocks-  those  she could talk about for hours, hands fidgeting as she could show and tell without Anna being upset. Anna thought it was interesting how she could go from not saying a word to suddenly exploding over her interests. It was cute.  

So, Claudette does not speak, merely letting her shoulders fall from their tight position and taking a step forward just as Anna’s arms outstretch and bring her into her arms. Their height difference makes Claudette nestle against her breast, smiling in a way that makes the killer’s heart stutter and a warm smile to find her scarred lips.  

Anna makes love to her that day, in her very own home. Strong body framing Claudette who had held her arms around her neck and pulled her closer with the softest of sounds from her throat.  There are  soft murmurs from Anna that Claudette does not understand. She kisses over her neck, brushing Claudette’s curls from her sweaty, warmed face and watching her get overwhelmed with each and every thrust into her smaller frame.  

Claudette can’t meet her eyes- eye contact was a big no. Nor did she seem to enjoy the stimulus of kissing when Anna was inside her.  So,  they compromise. With Anna’s forehead to hers, both sets of eyes closed, and Claudette’s hands pawing at her back or one clutching the back of her head to draw her closer.  

It made them feel more alive than either had been in what felt like ages.  

--  

The following day, after a day well spent with Anna and explaining to her quietly that Claudette would be seeing Adiris tomorrow, Claudette makes her way towards the path of the Red Forest again, the next pathway seeming to be made of fallen stones set firmly into the ground. It led a path to an open forested area as well, but instead of a warmed cabin, there was a temple. Broken down from age and time, moss growing along its walls and  left-over religious memorabilia scattered.  

Adiris is a calm and quiet woman. Her way of caring and speaking was soft spoken and gentle, English heavily accented with each word and one of the languages she struggled with. That was fine by Claudette, who wasn’t very verbal herself- whether that was from lack of wanting to speak or the killer stutter she got on single syllables was up to anyone.  

Though it did amuse her on end how Adiris seemed so stoic, yet the simplest hand on her cheek or a hand on her own would make the firmer flesh of her face flush red. Stoic, yet so easy to fluster.  

Adiris was a beauty that was different than the woman who ran in a rabbit mask. She was slightly taller than The Huntress, but certainly not even comparing in physique. Her  physique  was  leaner and willowy  with a soft, curving flare out of her hips. It made her entire sense of self seem like a walking goddess. Her face she preferred to hide with her headdresses- kissing was always a nervousness of her own.  

Claudette supposes that’s who she was before all this- or a loud devotee. But, now, she takes to sitting with Adiris and tracing the scarring on the backs of her hands. Mummified was a good word for how her skin was, almost scabbed up and burned. Yet, Claudette touches her just as she would anyone else with utmost care.  

Now, Adiris finds herself sitting with her knees off to the side, propping her side up on a rock as well with her arm. She lets Claudette sit in front of her, the girl on her knees as well and finding her palm resting on Adiris’ warmed cheek. There are no words to share, but Claudette still lets her eyes flicker to Adiris’ to get the message across.  

The first kiss is gentle. Adiris feels herself squirm to sit up fully on her knees to match, height overtaking as her shaking fingers gingerly cup Claudette’s cheeks warmly. The softness of her lips is supple against Adiris’ scarred ones. They can only peck, the headdress’ sharp edges coming down into two slots over her lips, but they still find ways to touch. With Claudette’s cheek against her own, feeling the warmth of her skin, able to inhale the earthy scent of her- it's almost too much for Adiris.  

In a moment where both parties both desire the other and both are too shy to proceed, one has to make the next move. It’s not as if Adiris’ religion had been surrounded by purity- no, polytheist was the ideology around it with multiple gods. It was not her religion that stopped her, but her own fears. She’d seen her followers naked, when they bathed in the communal rivers- but seeing someone INTIMIATELY naked would be new. Let alone...herself being bare before another.  

“Please,” Claudette murmurs so quiet against Adiris’ cheek she hardly hears it. There’s a moment’s hesitation, the shaky breath exhaling from Claudette as her warm hands brush down Adiris’ shoulders just as Adiris’ own arms slide around her neck to hold her closer. “Let me to-touch- touch you?”  

It must be hard for her to ask, a woman of few words, and even  then,  it’s a forward question. But, Adiris would expect nothing less of someone more interested in sciences. Her words fail her, so she nods, lying herself back on the grass floor as if she were to be her lover’s offering underneath the full moon. The forest’s winds shaking the treetops gently and creating a soft  ambiance  that would leave a blushing maiden breathless.   

If this were perhaps the mortal realm, perhaps Adiris would feel the need to be more modest.  

Claudette is almost methodical in her touching. She strokes over the flesh of her thighs, sitting between Adiris’ legs and warming her up. It must look ridiculous for such a smaller woman to kneel between her thighs, but Adiris can’t help the breath that leaves her when Claudette’s hands climb. Skirting over the swell of her hips, up her slender frame and to her breasts. Her clothing is loose, easy to push down her shoulders with curious fingers dipping into the fabric of her tunic and gently pulling it down.  

Her breasts are smaller and not as perky as someone with a bra might have had- as bras were way after her time. But Claudette doesn’t mind, even when one has scarring edging the outskirts.   

Adiris’ nipples are a dusty color, perked and easy to brush her thumbs over. Claudette should have expected her sensitivity, but the gasp makes her freeze, only spurred on when she looks up and sees Adris has raised a hand to cover her mouth and her burning face.  

More brazen at the situation, Claudette allows herself to lie overtop her, sealing her lips over a bud and suckling. The reaction is instant, slender hips coming up into her own and making Claudette hum softly in appreciation. Adiris’ other hand comes to rest on Claudette’s hair, pressing gently as if to urge her to continue.  

When Claudette switches and raises her hand to squeeze at the now neglected breast, Adris lets out such a soft sound, her hips coming up again as if she doesn’t notice her own body doing it. Her hips naturally roll and press up in small humps, pressing herself to the front of Claudette’s jeans with desperate little ‘nnhhh’s  leaving her throat.  

It was difficult for Claudette to get hard so quickly- in the mortal realm she had been on E since she was a teenager. The side effects she had discovered were that it was harder for her to get hard, that her breasts developed to about a B cup, her cock had become smaller from what it had been, and producing cum had once been something she could no longer do. Yet, in this realm, she could produce cum. An odd side effect, but she assumed that the Entity somehow knew of aspects of their survivors and gave them what it assumed was correct or wanted.  

Regardless of her own unsexual thoughts of the moment, she finds herself filling out and pressing against her zipper. Having been focused longer than she thought she had been when she can make out how Adiris whines now, hips firmly trying to hump up into Claudette without yet noticing.  

When Claudette releases her breasts, there’s protests and needy hands grabbing at her, but she shushes softly. Letting her hands fall to Adiris’ waist and methodically pulling her robes up and to the side. No underwear either, she finds quickly. She finds that Adiris has scarring on her upper thighs, her cunt covered with thick hair and the slit parted open like a blossoming flower. Allowing Claudette to see how wet and flushed she was, her flesh still  supple  here with her clit engorged and wetness sticking to Claudette’s fingers when she experimentally brushes her slit with two fingers.  

The sharp reaction of Adiris humping upwards and letting out an echoing ‘ah!’ will fill Claudette’s dreams. She offers a smile of comfort when Adris flushes, covering her face with her arm, but Claudette doesn’t stop her.  

Scientific research on bodies that were different than her own had been conducted in the case of something like this happening. With Anna, it was easier since their bodies were much alike. With Adiri , she had, well, to put it bluntly- a pussy. One that Claudette was now inspecting, pushing her lower lips apart and then sandwiching her clit between two fingers. Dipping her fingers down to feel at her hole and prod just a bit and then circling back up.  

Through methodical testing she finds quickly what Adiris likes. Ending up with two fingers inside her, stretching her out with her own mouth back on Adiris’ chest. Suckling and letting her teeth scrape across the hardened, abused bud in her mouth.  

When Adiris cums, the sound she makes is quiet and overwhelmed. This sound like ‘ nnnhAH -’ leaving her and making her hand smash over her mouth. Her hips convulse, humping up into Claudette’s hand as she moves her fingers inside of her, scissoring and experimenting with pressing different areas.  

When Claudette can find it in her, she finds herself sitting up and almost frantically pulling off her boots so she can pull off her jeans. She stays in her shirt and flannel, but only once her pants and panties are off  does  she  pause , looking down at Adiris with flushed cheeks. “May I? I-I-I mean- can--” Claudette’s gesturing again, hands moving with her words despite one being covered with cum, fingers and palm shiny with slick.  

Adiris’ eye that has yet to be sealed over with scar tissue narrows in amusement. A little braver, she lifts her hips up in a show that she wants her.  

Claudette bites her lip at the gesture, carefully scooting up to be aligned with her. Her cock was about four or five inches now, still a good girth around with foreskin that covered a small portion of the flushed head. When she strokes, she pulls the skin back to reveal the flushed, shiny head, sliding it through Adiris’ lower lips and making both women shudder.  

It wasn’t often Claudette wanted to penetrate someone else. But when she’s fully sunken in and lying on top of Adiris and clinging to her? She can’t imagine it any other way. But, she’s overwhelmed, tucking her face into Adiris’ neck and shuddering as she tries to adjust to the heat around her.  

That’s when Adiris makes a sound, not of pleasure nor pain, but of surprise. A gentle embarrassed sound and Claudette figures out why when a calloused hand brushes her hip, sliding down over her ass and making her cheeks burn.  

“Anna-” She breathes out, turning her head to peek back and up at the Huntress. Anna stands comfortably behind her, having snuck up. Her mask remains on her face, the veil behind her head offering clarity to see the way her head tilts at her name, scarred lips forming a smirk.  

“Shhh,” Is the reply she gets back. Claudette’s face burns when she realizes what’s happening once Adiris’ arms go around her neck possessively and holding her tighter. Just at the same moment Anna gets on her knees behind Claudette, cupping her ass and sliding slicked fingers between the swell to tease at her hole.  

Overwhelmed enough already, Claudette takes to burying her face in Adiris’ neck with a choked noise. One finger  slides  inside of her and her entire body jerks. She feels almost like a prize, Adiris now boldened by the competition lets her hands slide down Claudette’s body to grab her ass, pulling gently to bare her to the killer behind her.  

“God-” Claudette sobs out, hips jerking forward despite having no space to move.  

When two calloused fingers sink into her, Claudette swears she’s going to die. She squirms atop Adiris, who has now taken to stroking up her back, her nails lightly scraping across the soft flesh Claudette had to offer.  

After a few moments there’s a shift behind her, her ass thoroughly stretched and her head dizzy with pleasure- Claudette is sure she’s drooled into Adiris’ shoulder by now. There’s shuffling and then Anna’s much bigger body is crowding her into the woman underneath her, making Claudette effectively sandwiched between the two women. Anna takes her cock, lubed up and a good sizeable amount.  

A speculation Claudette had was that Anna was unable to take E or any supplements in life, so the Entity rewarded her with however she wanted. Perhaps not the best time to ponder when she’s holding her breath now as Anna sinks into her with a melodic groan behind her.  

When Adiris presses her cheek to Claudette’s, her voice is gentle as she whispers, “Breathe.” A simple word that sends shivers down Claudette’s spine as she quickly  lets  go of the breath she was holding. A shuddering, shaking one escapes her, nosing at Adiris’ neck with a broken sob escaping her.  

Too much, too much-  

Then Anna starts moving, rocking her with a possessive grip to Claudette’s hips to angle her better. Forcing her to start rocking a bit into  Adiris  as well and effectively making her head spin. Claudette’s body quakes, soft whines leaving her body as she clings onto the woman underneath her for dear life.  

The war she does not feel over her shoulder is, however, brewing. Adiris has her chin tucked on Claudette’s shoulder, making her soft noises as she’s rocked into, but her one good eye trains up at Anna. Anna, who is smirking cockily and her eyes narrowed behind her mask, going so far as to hum in pleasure as she slams her hips hard into Claudette to make her cry out.  

They would share, oh, they could share, but both women were trying to be the best. To be the one making Claudette whine like that.  

Adiris  focuses on holding Claudette like a lover, arms wound around her, legs spread and turning her head as much as she can with her headdress to kiss adoringly at her neck with encouraging sounds to follow.  

Anna focuses on yanking and moving Claudette like a doll, fucking into her hard enough that her body bounces with the effort. Claudette’s body responds willingly to the motions, trying to keep up and fuck into Adiris at the same time. You really can’t blame her when she’s suddenly sobbing out and sinking her nails into the dirt beneath her when she cums. Hips stuttering and filling up Adiris, her internal walls fluttering around Anna until all three women are gasping.  

Normally, Claudette just needs the one and she’s exhausted, but she quickly finds that the killers she’s sandwiched between aren’t going to let just a ‘one and done’ be the end of this.  

She vaguely hears a snarl beneath her, followed by a taunting little hum behind her. She’s vaguely aware of it with Anna still fucking into her like a rabbit, hips slamming home and cock practically never leaving Claudette’s body. It makes her shake, whimper, beg for no more, that she can’t take it, it’s  too much -  

“One more,” Anna manages to get out with a low groan, nails sunk into Claudette’s hips. “One more.” She repeats, a small chant under her breath that Claudette nearly sobs with. But, she nods, frantically into Adiris’ shoulder and mumbling it back helplessly.  

Adiris is the second to cum with a cry. She’s never too loud, soft noises, but she makes a  high-pitched  sound akin to a squeak into Claudette’s neck. Her nails press into Claudette’s flesh, digging in uncomfortably but the way she squeezes around her? Claudette can’t find it in her to complain.  

When Anna cums, Claudette manages a dry orgasm not seconds after. Body trembling, overstimulated, eyes glassy with tears and her head foggy. She’s shaking by the time Anna pulls out, calloused hands  appreciatively  spreading her ass to watch her cum undoubtedly spill down onto the grass.  

There’s a pull and she’s vaguely aware of being pulled into Anna’s embrace and away from Adiris. Her cock feels cold out in the air, wet and no longer warmed inside of the killer. She makes a sound in her throat akin to a complaint, but quiets down when she’s settled across Anna’s lap with her heavy arm across her lap. It grounds her, the weight of it, and even more so when Adiris comes crawling over and rests their foreheads together. Nothing more.  

Claudette smiles her tired, silent thanks. She near falls asleep in this realm, if it weren’t for the two women soon seeming to argue over who could hold her.  

Ah, the Red Forest, truly a beautiful place.  

[bindi-the-skunk]

The son of Frankenstein chapter 15

Henry was about to ask what on earth she could possibly want, well wondering how fast he could get into his wheelchair to go find Robert, or even if he should call Creature to remove her from the house when something glowing green caught his eye as Frankenstein pulled it from her coat.

His eyes widened in horror when he realized what it was in her hand.

No, it couldn't be! How did she ...impossible...

But there it was, in her hand was a mixed-up H-J 7 potion, stirring inside the beaker as if it was alive, eager to break free of its clear prison and jump down its host's throat to start the painful transformation process.

She must have broken into his office...picked the lock to his desk like she did his recovery room...she truly did have no shame...

Just looking at Frankenstein's face, he knew there was no getting out of this, no words he could spin would help, even shoving her down might just make her more eager to see what happened when Hyde came out, thinking he just did not want to share his discovery with anyone else.

Hyde was strangely silent, but there was an undertone of fear that Henry could feel, like this one time he did not want to be out in the world despite his way out being right in front of them both.

The chemist took the potion into his hands, feeling the heat radiate from the glass, the bottle feeling strange in his right hand as his left had been the one broken, Henry wondered momentarily if she had even mixed it properly, but if she had not, the chemicals would have caused a very different look, this was the potion that brought Edward Hyde to the surface.

Taking off the cork, the brunette, soon to become blond, did not gag as the smell that hit his nose, used to the once overwhelming stench after so long of forcing it down his gullet.

The split man tipped the glass to his lips, the disgustingly lukewarm slime slipping past them without much prompting, and drank it, ignoring the loud footsteps behind him and the resounding shout that followed them.

"HENRY, NO!"

Pain, white-hot pain split through as Henry did not bother biting back his screams, who did he have to muffle them for? Robert was right there, he would know now, everything was already lost for him, just get it over with.

Bones cracked and reformed, fingers twitching as if trying to grasp for some salvation from the agony, hair lengthened and lightened, but the damage done to the shared body did not heal...and no doubt more damage had been done from the violent seizures caused by the transformation...

And when the horror was finally over, a shaking and crying Edward Hyde lay on the floor having fallen from the sofa, clutching his hurt wrist to his heaving chest and broken legs spasmed in pain.

Robert stared in shock at what just happened, the man he loved turning into someone he held nothing but disdain towards and was torn between rushing forward to help the other back onto the sofa to recover from the obvious strain and sitting down himself to keep from fainting.

Frankenstein smiled at the new arrival and stepped forward to scoop him up, with Edward trying to recoil from her grip, now feeling like he did before and could feel Henry felt the same, the adrenaline rush that made him chug the potion wearing off as his pain faded because he was no longer in his physical body.

They both felt like a paticuarly fat bird caught in the claws of a playful cat whose hunger was just starting to pick at their belly.

The other man eventually snapped out of it and jogged forward, nudging Frankenstein out of the way with his shoulder making her shout in indignation and put his hands under Edward's legs and upper back in a way that he hoped would cause the least pain for the other and quickly lifted him onto the couch, earning a mild grunt but no crying or screaming, though the blond was still sniffling from his earlier trauma, and Robert tried to let go to confront Frankenstein, but found Hyde clung to him like a scared child with his good hand clutching at the bicep of the other.

"No....no...s-stay" Was all Edward could squeak out, he normally was confused by what he felt for the freckled man, but right now he knew Robert meant safe, Robert meant no pain, remembering how he had at least attempted to defend him from Lucy throwing him out into the streets to be at the Bazaar exhibitors none-existent mercy.

He never would have led the coppers there if he had not been trying to flee a KIDNAPPING!

Edward had no doubt he would have been beaten and bloody if he had not gotten the five-minute head start and had the skills to roof hop, those hallucinations had almost led to him being caught several times, but he managed.

Robert let himself be used as a teddy bear as Edward hid his face in the other man's shoulder, too exhausted and in pain to care about his image, he wanted some affection and Robert was the closest available source that did not do more damage in the attempt.

The Lanyon heir was feeling a swirl of emotions, on one hand, he was happy that most of the less than savory theories of who Hyde was and where he came from had been confirmed at that moment to not be true, on the other this meant he had a SERIOUS talk to have with Henry when he came back out!

Robert was both angry and upset that this had been kept from him for so long, that his lover had gone under his nose the whole time with this secret, yes, they would be having a VERY serious talk! But for now, he would let things cool down a bit, both Henry and Edward needed to recover both physically and mentally from the past few day's events, then Robert would be able to get his answers.

And he had to admit... the little gremlin was sort of cute like this when he was not swearing like a sailor and was in Henry's too big clothes curled into Roberts's chest for comfort, sort of like a kitten, a ratty looking one but still, smiling softly, the curly-haired man gently pulled down the shirt that was starting to ride up on the smaller man making the blond make a contented sound.

"So you are Edward Hyde, I have heard a lot about you.." Frankenstein said, alerting the other two she was still in the room and breaking whatever peace bond the two had started to form.

"Hi, mum..." Edward said sleepily, not bothering to pull his nose out of Robert's shoulder as he stared at Victoria with a look that was between fear and irritation, he wanted to go to sleep, the stuffy man was surprisingly comfy as a bed and Hyde was fully intent on using him as one.

"Well, that clears it up, your different people" Victoria could not help but drone out upon hearing the 'loving' term as she reached out to pat Edwards head, ignoring the almost snarl Robert threw at her "You both were holding out on everyone if I had even a hint Henry was capable of such a thing-"

"You would have what? Not smacked him in the face?" Edward bit, he had been rudely dragged out of his pity corner and thrown into a broken body that shot pain through every nerve with each small twitch, something that was driving Edward insane as he was used to moving as he pleased, not to mention his pride was still wounded from Lucy's own dressing down and following throwing him out onto her stoop...even though she could not have seen the monsters outside, it was still devastating.

So, he was in no mood to play nice despite how he would not be able to physically harm the other "Not caused a loon to break into the society after your creation and led to this whole mess with the coppers being after me!?"

Henry would have pointed out a few flaws in Hyde's argument, but he was having too much fun, another emotion barreling in to replace the fear and self-loathing, he was not in pain from his mind space and could enjoy the thud from Frankenstein digging her own grave from the mirror that hung over a table nearby.

This! This must be how Hyde felt most of the time! It was a sick sort of glee that Henry partially felt bad at feeling at all, but that same part was the dirty mind...LINT that had been beaten back from the past day's chaos and was currently whimpering in a corner to lick its wounds, the lowly thing would not cause its host any trouble.

Neither side was in the mood to be kind, what had kindness with this person done for either of them? Nothing, she would learn EXACTLY what both of them thought!

Frankenstein wanted to see Hyde so badly?

She got him fully loaded! Hurt to boot, and mad as a rattlesnake with a toothache and snapped off tail.

Henry sat back and watched, smiling, savoring the swelling of sadistic joy that built behind his ribs.

Let the show begin!

[nightstalkerhunterguardian]

Tragedy

I keep coming up with in-between scenarios while writing other shit so I mean. 

Here’s another one. 

TW: descriptions of gore

Songs listened to: Panic Room by Au/Ra

Bottom of the River by Delta Rae

Go fuck yourself by Two Feet

-

The idea that they’d one day have to return to the surface of the moon only crossed Kano’s head in a hypothetical sense. She thought she had let go of what happened. Let go of the memory of Crota, of Oryx, of the Dreadnaught, of the bodies of Awoken floating out in the vacuum of space. 

PTSD was common among veteran Guardians, but few seldom talked out about it. It was almost like it all wordlessly bonded them in a sense and they had hoped that what they did on the moon would save the newer generation of Guardians the mind-numbing trauma of what had happened so long ago. 

They were wrong. 

-

She shut down once they entered the moon’s atmosphere. KillShot knew. He could tell by the way her eyes dulled. She had gotten good at shutting down in her years as a Guardian and as necessary as he knew it was, he hated it so damn badly because it took so much after the fact to tell her that she was still a person, that she still was more than a weapon or a soldier, that she was something and someone that mattered. 

She never believed it. 

She wasn’t brought back because she was special or she was unique or any other optimistic reason that Killshot tried to convincer her of. 

Her existence was a tool to ward off tragedy. 

Ironic is how she saw it. 

How was one tragedy supposed to fight off another?

The tag that Drifter had wound in her hair brushed gently against her jawline, along with the small jade charm that hung at the end of the tassel. Whether she was a joke to him or he was trying to make a point, she never bothered to ask but for some reason, she couldn't find it in her to take it out, no matter how many times she cut her hair. The tag remained. 

Landing on the moon and transmatting to the surface made her stomach lurch and she wanted to throw up in her helmet but she held it down and made her way through the base, Thorn in her hand. 

She had received an earful from numerous people over the gun she now kept at her side, but she refused to listen to any of it. It did it’s job and so did she. 

They were red. Covered in thorns and filled with something far deeper than rage or pure animalistic instinct. It seemed almost symbolic. Religious. 

It didn’t matter to her. 

Thorns jutted viciously up each hive body she dropped and she walked by each corpse as if something corrupted didn't follow her with each shot. Like she herself wasn’t becoming something vicious while wrapped in her own cocoon of pain and loneliness and fading sanity. 

Times like this, she really wished the man with the golden gun would've taken the shot at her when he had the chance. But maybe he knew she’d become this. He had to of.

The path she traveled the farther she went slowly became emptier as she passed through a haze and into a cleared path, overlooked by a cliff. 

A cliff with something looking at her atop it. 

A sharp pang of something hit her hard in her stomach before crawling into her chest, making her gasp for air and tears blur her vision. Killshot quickly makes his way to her side, scanning her over to check her. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, panicked, despite how something feels wrong to him too. 

Her line of sight goes back up to the cliff above, looking at the figures floating ominously, hovering as if they were watching them. 

It felt like an overwhelming amount of panic and sadness and distress was spreading through her chest cavity, crushing her lungs and threatening to break her ribs just to escape and she clawed at the ground below to try to get a hold of herself. 

Her legs were shaky by the time she was able to pull herself up from her knees and continue along the steep path, the looming figures still watching them. 

The sudden wave of scarlet hive that appeared didn't surprise her, each bullet and grenade hitting its mark and clearing the area as they approached the hazy red aura at the edge of the cliff. 

Memories quickly flashed behind her eyes when she reached her hand out to touch it and suddenly, she realized it wasn’t a memory. 

It was real. 

A nightmare that was supposed to remain in the past. 

It was here. 

-

The rapid haze of black and white and green that obscured her vision soon spat her out in a giant scarlet room, large barbs and broken stone surrounding them.

“Eris Morn...” she murmured, slowly approaching.

If there was anyone in the ‘verse that she felt an unspoken relation to, it was Eris. The primary difference between them, however, was Eris’s will to live. Her continuous fight to survive in spite of her tragedy.

Kano was ready to let it kill and consume her.

Maybe that’s why Eris was willing to share the memories of her fallen friends. To show that it was possible to overcome. Accept. That there was something to live for in the smoldering ashes of tragedy and pain.

It was...revealing to say the least and Kano couldn’t imagine how it felt for Eris to admit to the ache in her being while nightmares of her comrades loomed over her shoulder but she also noticed how she would stand a little straighter each time she remembered them. Their quirks and personalities. She hunched less as if the box she had been closed into was slowly expanding and she could stretch more and more.

Kano was proud of her. There was no denying that. She remembered when she first met her in the old tower, how she stayed crowded in a corner beside the staircase and muttered often of the growing threat of the taken and hive. The eerie green glow that emanated from where her eyes should’ve been was captivating in a way Kano couldn’t describe but she also didn’t seem to be very fond of company, so she kept her distance.

The talk that ensued between her, Eris, and Ikora had another type of whisper creeping into her head but she ignored it, at least for now.

She knew it would come back.

-

The chiming of metal was slow. Periodic. It followed a slow but sickening rhythm that only ever made anyone within earshot uncomfortable.

Only KillShot could hear it, though.

Had he any other choice, he’d simply leave, fade away in shimmering blue and white vapor. But there was a problem.

His Guardian was hanging from those same chains.

The twisted lengths the Hive would go to to experiment and make examples of Guardians was, in short, disgusting and to see that same hostility and viciousness taken out on his Guardian made it worse.

Kano’s body had stopped swinging by now, the chains having settled finally in the silence of the dim green halls. He could rez her but it wouldn’t do any good. The hooks they had used to hang her form from the ceiling needed to be removed or else she’d simply come back in the same excruciating pain she suffered before succumbing to the torture.

A hook was driven through the palms of each of her hands, spreading her arms out wide to her sides. A much larger hook had been driven through her back and was jutting from her chest, supporting most of her weight and keeping her body suspended in what could only be described as a sadistic mockery of a crucifixion.

It made KillShot want to be sick in ways he didn’t have a body for.

He tried to cut through the chains as best he could, managing to free one arm with a strong enough beam of laser light before moving onto the next, listening out for approaching Hive through the halls.

The clanking of the metal was loud against her limp form but it was overtaken by the sound of Knight footsteps thumping against the floor and crushing old bone beneath its approaching feet. KillShot quickly hid in Kano’s hood, nestling into her black hair.

It approaches, dragging its sword with it. A metal screech. A warped growl. And slowly, the footsteps leave. He peeks from the curtain of black hair he’s hidden in and emerges once the threat is gone, doing his best to cut through the large chain until finally, the chain breaks and his Guardian falls down into the pile of bone below, the crunch following indecipherable between her bones or the ones her body falls atop.

He won’t deny being panicked. Scared. They’re alone in the dark below the moon’s surface. They have no team. But he settles himself and broadcasts out a message as far as the suffocating Hive around them will allow it to travel.

“If anybody can hear this message, my Guardian is down. We are in need of assistance. Please, if you can lock onto my signal, we are in need of help. There are potential threats lingering and my Guardian is down.”

He sends the signal out and waits, staying hidden alongside his Guardian’s body.

Time passes and fear begins to set in. He needs to rez her but the hooks remain. Her helmet stays on but he can see the splatter of blood on the inside from when she had been choking on it.

Gunfire sounds off down the hall. It’s not loud and thundering like Hive boomers. It’s quick, cracking, and from the shrieks sounding after each shot, it’s hitting its targets. Rapid taps follow. Running.

Is that...? Did somebody catch his signal?

Red.

He sees red. But it’s not threatening and he realizes who it is. He rises from his spot and greets the Guardian who meets him, head turning to the body.

“Attack! I-I...” KillShot gathers himself for a second. “I can’t get the hooks out. I can’t rez her like this or she’ll just die again and-“ but the Guardian holds his hand up and nods, holstering his gun.

“It’s okay. I’m here to help”. He simply nods and glides aside, letting him approach her body as he takes her hand and begins working the jagged metal from the flesh. The squelching and popping makes him shudder but he allows Attack to pull the metal away and toss it aside before working on the other hand.

“You’re okay, buddy”, Attack says and the small ghost turns to him. “It’s gonna be okay. Luckily, worm rot hasn’t made it to her”. The reassurance sounds grim but it still works. Another clatter and he pulls the body up by the shoulders, surveying the damage before propping her up and crouching behind her.

“I’m gonna have to pull the hook through”, he sighs. “I can cut off the back and just pull out that half though”. He pulls out his knife and it glows with solar light that manages to cut through the metal quickly. He sheathes the blade and grabs the end jutting from her chest. Her back is leaned against his chest and he pulls her towards him while pushing against the hook and after a moment of stomach turning slick and sticky sounding shuffling, the hook finally clatters against the bone and floor.

KillShot is already scanning over her body and a shutter rattles through her chest before she jolts up, gasping.

“Welcome back, kid”, he says, clapping a hand against her shoulder. “You got put through the fuckin’ wringer by the looks of it”.

Her breathing is heavy and her hands clench in the remains beneath.

“When did you get here?” She asks, ignoring the comment. He nods his head to KillShot.

“Your friend sent out an SOS and I managed to catch it”.

She swallows and the taste of blood is still thick in her mouth.

She’s frustrated and it’s clear to see. The torture she’d been subjected to was agonizing to say the least and she stood from her spot, kicking the hook down the hall, making it bounce off the floor.

Attack says nothing and simply watches her pull Thorn from her hip in a grip that makes her gloves squeak under her hold.

Between the whispers in her head, the looming shadows hovering above, and the nightmares resurfacing, she was breaking.

She screamed. At nothing, at nobody. Just screamed.

-

In front of her, she can see Eris flinch away from her nightmares. She’s seated on the top of the small building across from her, cigarette hanging from her lips. She doesn’t know that her cigarette is halfway burnt up, the ash never falling while the smoke swirls over her head.

She doesn’t flinch away or even look when a familiar form seats itself beside her. All she does is hold her lit lighter to him for a moment. A puff of smoke makes her pocket the lighter and she otherwise remains still, gaze fixed on nothing until a small veil of light washes over her eyes and she looks up at the now unblurry form of Eris, flinching away from the remaining shadows that loom beside her.

She can feel the tag in her hair move as Attack takes a look at the writing on it before grasping the charm that hangs from the tassel at the end. It’s a snake. Of course it is. There’s no surprise in the carving itself but the detail and time put into it is something to take a moment to gander at. Each scale is clear and smooth and the way it coils around itself is mesmerizing for such a small object.

“...Tragedy”, she mumbles. Attack glances at her as the ash of her cigarette finally falls to dust on her thigh. “...it says tragedy”.

“That so?” He asks. She simply nods and the tag swings below her jaw when he lets it go. “Not one to make assumptions but the snake on it kinda hints at who gave you that”. Another nod confirms his guess.

“...don’t really enjoy giving credit to a man that reads people like cheap books but I suppose he makes his points when needed”, she says, breathing out a cloud of smoke. “More so when he’s right”.

He’d like to make a quip. A snippy remark, a sarcastic jab. Anything to lighten the mood but there isn’t much to work with at the moment, so he settles for taking another drag of his cigarette.

“...We never should’ve come here”.

There’s truth in what she says. Human nature demands that curiosity be sated at the cost of what may become of it. She knows it, he knows it, but it’s too late for knowing. The damage was done too long ago for regrets to form. The slump in her shoulders says she’s already carrying the weight of too many, some she can’t even recall in a life she isn’t privy to.

The butt of her cigarette is flicked away and her hand comes up to rub against her chest with a frown etched into her face. The convenience of remembering each death she had endured yet not being able to remember her final death from before seemed more and more fucked up everytime she died. And as she said before.

Human curiosity demands to be sated.

The way her fist clenches against her chest plate doesn’t go unnoticed and Attack sighs and rests a comforting hand atop her head of unruly black hair that had been pulled into a messy top knot, her shaved sides visible.

“You’re allowed to be hurt, ya know?” He finally says. It catches her off guard but she doesn’t show it. “You’re allowed to feel hurt and angry and sad. Just...just try not to stay there too long or else getting outs gonna be harder”. She scoffs but allows his hand to remain.

“I wouldn’t have a purpose if I did...”

-

We in them sad boi hours my dudes ✌🏼😎

As usual, Attack is @guardian-headcanons and Kano is mine.

Shit has been ✨r o u g h✨

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Induratize | 02

Genre: Smut, PwP

Pairing: Sugar Daddy/Creative Writing Professor!Namjoon x Student!Reader

Warnings: Unprotected doggy style sex in a bathroom (ALWAYS do it safely, lads and lasses), fingering, squirting, Dom!/Top!Namjoon, swearing/cussing, dirty talk

Summary: It is near impossible to guard one’s heart against love, especially during the prime years of youth. Slowly but surely, resistance is harder to keep up when affection is shown on a daily basis from a forbidden side.

However, forbidden does not always necessarily mean wrong.

Such is the argument of a wolf longing for a little doe.

Author’s Note: Induratize (v.); to make one’s own heart hardened or resistant to someone’s pleas or advances, or to the idea of love.

Masterlist

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

There is only so long one can run from wolves, especially when having aggravated them. The sounds of the massive crowd rushing over the concrete of the station does not distract the clear focus of the predator nor does the amalgamation of the warm scents of freshly brewed coffee from one of the many spots around the historical edifice. As long as the light falls in through the glass ornate ceiling above the tracks and the artificial lamps remain turned on in the wide halls, the hunt shall not be stopped.

‘Where do you think you’re going, little doe?’ A generous arm clad in warm onyx wool wraps around the middle out of nowhere to draw it back into the fresh scent of a forest after the rain, the mocking lips of the pied piper chuckling into hair.

‘Prof- Professor,’ the fast-beating heart in the heated chest of the tawny wolf is pressed against the spine, the sheer presence and weight of it as curiously mesmerizing thanks to its possessiveness as what had been pressed against the behind earlier as well, ‘this is, ahem, highly inappropriate.’

Why keep up this fantasy? I know I am nothing to you, that you are just sadistically toying with me.

‘Is it? Nobody here knows what we are to each other. For all they know, I’m your boyfriend.’ A kiss on conflicted strands goes paired with a boyish giggle almost nullifying the perversity of the situation, lashes fantasizing about having a real relationship fluttering close in sheer bliss for a moment. Content, even if the bond is based around money and emotions are never really reciprocated. ‘They don’t know I’m your sugar daddy.’

‘I- I-’ Hips snap as they did in the train, erasing every sense of logic thought in a split second as the sensual heat from before rekindles. ‘I, mhm, sir, I don’t nee- need- oh, fuck!’

‘I told you to call me by my name, didn’t I? So why won’t you?’ Plush lips ghost over the side of the neck, warm breath setting every nerve on fire in paradoxical anticipation. ‘Maybe I need to convince you. Or,’ teeth sink into the side of the throat as digits glide over the mouth opening in a surprised gasp, ‘ teach you manners.’

In a flash, the hold from behind is made undone to be replaced by a firm grip on the wrist, resulting in being dragged along to the nearest unisex bathroom. Here, freedom is temporarily granted during the small moment it takes to lock the door before a sturdy hand grabs the waist whilst its counterpart snakes around the back of the neck, hiding beneath loose locks whereas the other violently tugs down the fabric of the haphazardly pulled on leggings. Any other woman would have been afraid if their professor had done the same, but that unknown man is not Namjoon and the situation would not have been fuel for sinful fiction. Henceforth, consent to the rough handling is given wordlessly in the feigned helpless gaze at the domineering tutor.

Eyes meet anew in the mirror after being harshly turned around, maintaining contact as slender honey digits explore the wanton desire which essentially forms the foundation for every tale that comes forth in class and private. The toying continues for a bit, the creative writer clearly finding pleasure in the gradually building desperation finding a voice in weak whines.

‘You’d really leave me hanging like that? It’s not polite to let me walk to university with an obvious bulge, little doe, especially,’ all play is over as it takes solely one intruding advance to nullify every thought immediately and be thrown into the melting that feels like wildfire, ‘when you’re the cause of it. What did I tell you each time you wanted to move on to a new project without finishing the old one?’

There is no room to adjust to the unprotected sheer size of the author unintentionally kept on a leash, harsh hips relentlessly claiming what has been longed for. The answer to the question does not surface because every time it tends to, it is cruelly shattered to incoherent bits by a savage growl unable to be kept waiting in the chase for possession and oblivious ignorance. ‘I- I can’t, shit! I can’t r- re- remember.’

‘Finish what you started, Y/N. That’s what I told you and so you’ll take my veiny cock, whether you want to or not.’ A low baritone chuckle filters through the haze behind closed eyes as a warm secure palm folds over lips bitten down on by teeth endeavouring to restrain pathetic mewls hardly containing their overwhelming joy. Forcefully, a look in the mirror is established, the sight melting the last remnants of muscle in shaking legs but fortunately being kept steady by compelling darkened espresso eyes glaring from between tightly held messed-up locks. ‘Look in the mirror, see how I, how your wolf is fucking that tight pussy open. God, you’re gorgeous. Nice and complacent, having no choice but- Yeah, tighten around that big dick. No choice but to take me.’

The loud embarrassing drip of something on the tiles breaks through the baritone grunts and muffled ruined mascara cries of pleasure, something in the sudden hollow sensation in the aftermath of the first explosion of sensual elevation being much to Namjoon’s delight after a disgruntled yet surprised snarl. ‘I didn’t know you’d like it that much, little doe.’ Without a word of warning, bodies are joined in coyness once more. Notwithstanding, the union is a paradoxical mixture of pain and satisfaction in a different manner, for now, overstimulated nerves are denied the recovery from their watery floating in ignorance and brutally brought back to the wonderfully fulfilling reality. ‘But guess we’ll- shit, still tight... fucking wet, do it like this from now on since preparation apparently isn’t, grm, needed.’

From- From now on? I... I’m his?

The conflict likely shining through in the flowing tears finds assurance in the confirmation which was already assumed yet could not be believed. ‘Yes, from now on. I’m what you need, what you want. You’ve made that clear more than once.’ A particular hard advance compels the upper body to lie down on the cool counter entirely, forced into complete submission to the tawny wolf wonderfully claiming what has secretly been his all along. ‘Thirsting after me, squirting over my cock like that. Don’t think I haven’t seen you stealing glances at my bulge, baby.’ 

A protest wants to be made but is swallowed down before it can find an unintelligible noise to be voiced in for sneaky peeks have, indeed, been stolen in the classroom or lecture hall when thought to have been unnoticeable. Clearly, the opposite is the truth of the matter.

‘You like it, baby? This is how it feels, how your wolf feels. What I’ve wanted all this time, wanted while fluffing myself before- hrm, ah- before teaching you.’ Trying and succeeding in deepening the primal bond, growling teeth leave behind a gorgeous mark of belonging on the side of the neck while hips accelerate, driven to utter madness. To the degree nothing can be said by the human beneath the skin of the beast and thus lets the body speak for itself. Exactly like the little doe irretrievably hypnotized by the bruising grip on the waist in combination with the sharp sting of hair being tugged on and lewd noises resonating between the walls.

The revelation alongside the brand makes the heart almost dance in perverse joy, the knowledge to grace unspeakable fancies and being claimed thus evoking a misplaced yet wonderful delight. So much so that it is enough to be kicked off the edge that precariously has been balanced on again, taking the forbidden lover along by unconsciously narrowing the connection and letting fingers entangle in messy dark golden locks.

And for a while, everything is extraordinarily beautiful and right. The filling intimacy, the warm breath on the side of the throat, the sturdy arms around the waist keeping up both fools standing in delirium. Outside this very moment, there is nothing.

Nothing except us.

All that is misguided.

‘I want you to stay after class.’ The contextless command, for tone leaves little room to assume it is anything else, pulls the mind floating in personal reverie back to the present to reflect on the implications of giving in to the tall dominant writing tutor.

‘Namjoon... I- I mean, professor.’ Irises having regained a sense of Logic turn away from the lovely view in the mirror of tawny locks still enjoying their high burying their adorable button nose into personal strands, breaking it up. It is a crying shame, but the incomprehension calls for elaboration on why the academic would want more time together. Certainly because this is a mistake. A grave, severe mistake. ‘Wha- What we’ve done. I shouldn’t- I didn’t want to lead you on.’

‘Don’t call me that. Just call me by my name.’ Unapologetically, the wonderful physical spell is made undone for the second and last time, the expected comfort at the awkward hollow sensation below remaining absent as punishment. A mocking grin tugs on the corners of plush lips, apparently finding something humorous in the messed-up situation. ‘Funny how you blame yourself while I’m the one who initiated it. You liked it, didn’t you, little doe?’

‘Y- Yes, but... it’s, ah, well, uhm...’ The caress of honey digits over the brand on the side of the throat ending in a squeeze of the shoulder alongside the one over the cheek melts away the ability to speak, all vocabulary craftily used when writing vanishing at once at the gentle touch of the affectionate gaze looking down.

Watching over their territory.

Guarding what they love.

That which they should not. 

‘It’s what? Use your words, baby.’ A low chuckle evokes warring feelings of Sense and Passion, not knowing which should prevail outside the university grounds where it is possible to be anything and anyone. Nobody here knows about the actual relationship that goes on between a tall young man and a wee lass differing in age with him a tad. 

Notwithstanding, the wonderful reverie is lifted when leaning sideways to undo the intimacy after mustering all inner strength and let palms soak in the cold of the stone sink by moving ever so slightly to untouched spots on the surface. ‘It’s wrong, si- Joon. I’m your pupil, someone taking classes from you.’

‘You might be, but I’m still a man, Y/N.’ Undaunted by the sudden distance, big palms rest themselves on either side of the waist as cushiony lips place a chaste kiss on the forehead. ‘A man who wants to take care of you, who wants to be more to you than simply a professor. I promise you our relationship won’t be solely about sex. I’ve shown that more than once by offering to pay for your food and coffee, didn’t I?’

‘So...’ Fluttering lashes barely dare to look up at the adorable button nose of which the eyes hold nothing but sincerity in the oddly loving expression that makes the heart flutter in spite of trodding down the wrong path with the pied piper. ‘When you asked me to have lunch together, you’d never wanted to, you know, let this happen?’

‘Not without your permission.’ Hands rub the upper arms affectionately, smiling faintly when small palms place themselves on bared honey hips. Their voice is sincere, assuring of holding nothing but honest intentions despite the forbidden aspect of the relationship that might overtake entirely if it is not stopped at once. ‘I won’t make you do things you don’t want to. All those times I asked you to eat together, I genuinely wanted to make sure you’d at least had something in your system to make it through the coming hours.’ 

A low chuckle speaks another truthful wish for one who should not be loved in the way she is. Nevertheless, a little doe is. ‘Though having dinner together would be a nice change of pace.’

And it is entrancingly exciting. 

‘Dinner?’ A pretty image of sharing a meal by candlelight unwillingly carves a timid though anticipating smile onto lips, fiercely longing for something that cannot be.

Or can be if the game is played cunningly and outside spectators are kept in the dark. 

We could do this because maybe, no, he surely loves me. Why else would he be my sugar daddy? Although, perhaps that is precisely where the fault lies since the bond would still be based around money and sex. That’s how these types of relationships work.

‘Yeah. And I’d walk you home afterwards, just to be sure you’re safe and sound. And only if you’d want it,’ foreheads rest on each other in a warm air of a lush forest and water lilies blooming in a pond beneath an orange tree when spring comes, plush lips ghosting over an eagerly following mouth which hungers for more, ‘I’d stay.’

‘Is that why you want me to remain after class?’

Please let that be the reason. Please promise me this will indeed not be solely about sex. That I am also more to you just as you are to me.

‘Maybe.’ An innocent grin nullifies the sexual atmosphere as palms briefly relieve their protective hold to swiftly correct the dislocated clothes below. However, when trousers are in order again, Professor Kim... Namjoon envelops the waist again in a loving embrace going accompanied by an unavoidable affectionate peck on the nose, stilling the stupid worry that the gesture of making one’s outfit in order after what has transpired indicates being solely interested in sensual transactions. ‘But I thought it’s nice if we hop on the bus together and I’ll drop you off at the right tracks before going home myself.’

‘That’s sweet.’ The response comes out more mockingly than intended, bitter Logic still endeavouring to kill any hopes of actually continuing this make-believe for that is essentially what this is.

Has to be.

A silly game.

Unsustainable.

As it might turn out to be in reality, but not in imagination as stories have proven time and again. Henceforth, let another be shakily written at this starting point.

And see its way into the world.

The brilliant creative writer picks up on the persevering doubt caused by conflicting thoughts and emotions, every molecule making up the novice writer engaged in the ancient war of Mind and Heart, and in turn becomes hesitating himself. Voice contains a pleading undertone as the low hug fuses two lovers together albeit not in the coy sense, but just as intimate with the desire to stay. ‘You’re doubting me.’

Together.

This is wrong, but he’s good to me. Always has been. Maybe he really is in love with me, though it could just be a farce simply to get sex. No, he isn’t like that. He cares and that’s why he does what he does. I’m going in circles. We could try. I could let him try.

‘I’m not! It’s just that- I don’t know. I don’t know how to feel about this.’ Happiness is anxiously within reach, the alluring manifestation of a goal never to be thought to actually be achieved with the tawny wolf. Withal, it is right there, right here, ripe for the taking. If only all inhibitions are let go of and the truthful Self, the newbie novelist heavily in love with her muse, turns selfish as a reward for doing the right thing for so long. After all, such a change should be allowed as a reward.

Right?

‘Maybe you will after we get some coffee. You look tired and I’m afraid you won’t make it through the day after what happened here.’ The concentration on indecision is broken up by a hand affectionately caressing the cheek like before, turning the chin upwards a tad to lock gazes after setting every vein on fire by gliding over the jaw. ‘In any case, know I’m not lying. I’m really head over heels for you.’ 

Long honest-speaking legs lower into a crouch to pull up the roughly pulled down legging again and correct today’s simple outfit. Once composed enough to face the public again, Namjoon holds out an arm clad in onyx wool to clutch along the way. ‘You can hold on to me and we’ll find somewhere nice and quiet. Come on, let’s go.’

[incorrectcatfacestudios]

Headcanons + Making this to replace my old headcanons post.

Disclaimer: JUST GOING TO SAY NOT EVERYTHING I GIVE THEM IS SOMETHING I AGREE WITH! like Some characters will have a headcanon that’s more because I can ACTUALLY SEE Them enjoying an activity but even if they do I DON’T their are things that these characters would do that I DON’T think anyone else should do EVER!

Asch

Has a safe space in his room where he can be himself. It’s a place where He gets to let his guard down. that is his earth room

Has a tendency to be more attracted to those with a darker tone then him. then again its not really hard to have a darker complexion then him. (Regardless of race someone could have a tan or something, or just be a bit darker than him.) He himself hasn’t noticed this and probably never will.

Mirage sleeps in his room

If Rhys somehow got really sad and mopey he’d locate that ice cream truck and angrily threaten the ice cream man to give him all of the ice cream or DIE. Or he’d just want the entire truck, & if no one stopped him then he’d throw it through Ava’s window into her apartment.  

Sometimes late at night when everyone’s sleeping & Asch can’t, he summons Rhys to his room and forces him to read him a bedtime story. Rhys used to do this when Asch was younger as well. He really likes Rhys’s voice. 

If he was a human he’d probably be some NEET gamer who spends all his time roleplaying on World of Warcraft or something and he’d always rage about bad plot points or game mechanics in Anime & Video games.

The most likely to dirty talk

He sneezes like a kitten and when he does fire comes out. 

Would be god awful at pole dancing

 He doesn’t know what to do when it comes to love and isn’t used to physical affection.   Its.....very pleasant whenever he gets it...but it also feels too comfortable for him. He’s scared of comfort, despite loving it.  

Later on once he embraces affection he becomes absolutely addicted to it and is by far the most passionate of them. Though that angry scowl never leaves unfortunately . His passion rages on like a burning flame, like....an intense RUSH of desire. It can be overwhelming at times. 

In fact he DEMANDS the affection. 

In battle he’s more brutish than the others by far. A giant barrage of flames being sent EVERYWHERE . 

One time he read a fanfiction & thought it was 100% Canon. & when anyone said otherwise He screamed angrily and shot fire balls at them; Even when they weren’t physically there. Of course since they weren’t there he just  ended up burning the phone Ava got for him, but you know, whatever.

Loves curry 

Really likes chocolate and caramel for whatever reason, but he can’t stand other sweets. he also likes strawberries 

He enjoys the video game Indivisible, & some war military tactic games. He also likes rage games for some reason too even though he hates them, its complicated but he can’t stop playing, he gets too into it and too angry. He also enjoys racing games & MARIO PARTY, Especially when he wins.   

His favorite animal is the bull  

Dhaur is his husbando 

His sin is wrath  

 Used to hate Steven Universe at first then grew....to like it. then love it. It seemed so dumb to him at first but as he watched it he came to understand it more. 

Asch trusts Rhys more than the other daemos. He’s known him the longest and believes in his judgement he doesn’t think Rhys would EVER lie to him or deceive him.  Because of this Rhys is the only person Asch is ever fully open with. He wouldn’t leave anyone else he was this open with back on daemos. He is quite FOOLISH to believe this however. :) after all Rhys is working with Lady Grandma. 

He once dared Leif to eat a cactus after getting particularly angry in a game of truth or dare 

 Him and Rhal never get along ever. They always yell it eachother, and get into arguments.

Rhal has far more Knights than Asch 

As for Lady Bish. Asch is completely indifferent towards her.  

He doesn’t know why but he keeps on sniffing Ava’s bra for reasons obvious to the rest of us. Regardless he destroys them just the same

Smell/sweat Kink bitches 

 Probably into S&M.  

 He sometimes rehearses villainous Dialogues with himself in the mirror when no one’s around. 

He also does this with Rhys on occasion...if he’s feeling particularly BRAVE that day

Holds up a lot of pent up emotions and hides it pretty well. He prefers to let them out as anger instead..but when he gets drunk it all just POURS out of him. He just sobs and cries and hugs and kisses and laughs. just...everything. ALL OF THE EMOTIONS BESIDES ANGER he expresses openly. He doesn’t become a completely different person he just becomes far more open. He compliments a lot as well.

He got drunk once and decided from that day NEVER AGAIN! 

 Though when he first got drunk he really liked it. Despite the flavor. and downed like 3. 

 That was a #Mistake 

His favorite Crystal gem is Garnet, or Sapphire? Its hard for him to choose between them. 

Rhys

 The thiccest of the daemos on earth. By that I mean he has the biggest butt 

 What I mean by that is he does a lot of squats, & Glute exercises. He also has a magic that makes all the fat he gains go to his butt but that’s not important. Its not always in affect only for emergencies.   

Would be VERY interested in science if he knew what it was

He would eat pizza with a fork

Gluttonous in any task he enjoys. When he eats he eats ALOT, sex would last a long time with him Though not many people know this about him because he takes his time. 

The  common one is Research, reading, observing, & ESPECIALLY LEARNING.

 He also adores validation give him it.. Wears a long trench coat to hide his big butt from the world well not hide but-. 

 specifically daemos since some uncultured daemos tend to be quite handsy.

 It doesn’t always work but whatever trench coats are cool. 

 has frequent discussions with Asch in his room. He’s the only one Asch is completely honest with. Asch trusts Rhys with EVERYTHING. 

If he was a human he would be a college student studying to be a scientist of some kind. 

He would also work volunteer jobs at the retirement homes. 

If he was a human he’d probably meet Asch by working as his grandmothers nanny. I don’t think Asch would live by himself.

has a tad bit more fat on him than the others. but his muscle can distract from that. Plus his fat isn’t even noticeable outside of his ass His lover would nickname him sunrise, because his smile can chase the night away, cause his face is what brightens their day, because he is the beginning of something new bright and beautiful. 

loves Rubix Cubes If he romanced Ava it wouldn’t be because he likes her it would be because he wants to use her. mostly for her nonexistent power ((magical and political)) 

Loves sweets more than the rest of them

I think I had enough for him last time. 

His mother and Asch’s were close.  

Spends waaayyyy too much time trying to over analyse tv shows he watches 

Is a big fan of Pheonix wright, Fran Bow, Gravity falls, Danganronpa, Dr. Stone, Dr. Who, Fnaf, & pretty much any other game or TV show that either gives you a lot to think about after the episodes/playthrough, is chock full of thousands of possibilities and theories, or requires a lot of thought and problem solving to play. He also likes strategy games like Fire Emblem, & Final Fantasy Tactics. OH! And Pokemon but not for the normal gameplay for the competitive scene. 

Due to having the element of water he is  usually cool calm and collected. but he also is able to flow with a situation if needed. He’s passive  

 Often reads to Asch because Asch has a harder time reading. Him and Asch went to school together when they were younger and thus have a closer bond than the others.  ((Lady grandma forced Asch to go)) 

Once asked Ava if she had any more of those porn magazines. Was pleased to find that Ava had an entire closets worth. Though not all of it was the fighting techniques he was looking for. 

He  has no fucking idea how a vagina works in the slightest. or what vagina’s even look like? Despite his extensive knowledge sex is one of the places where he knows the least. Because he has no idea what lesbian sex is he is completely oblivious to the fact that he’s been staring at 2 girls fucking it on in those magazines he’s found underneath Ava’s bed. 

 He once had to help Leif out with the creation of the Furby organ. It was incredibly difficult for him but also very insightful 

 The Furbies terrify him though.  That STARE its..just...ugh 

 The best at pole dancing. 

Is far more elegant on the battle field than the others. His attacks are more precise and careful than theirs are. 

He’s also the best at dancing...well fancy dancing. like ballet,  and slowdancing. 

Sleeps in Ava’s fridge sometimes. 

Starting teaching Noi how to read a bit more after they went to the mall. The shops are cataloged after all

 Is cold resistant to a point. I mean ice magic CAN still hurt him but like...less. I’d liken it to a Pokemon. 

His favorite crystal gem is garnet. If your talking singular gems then I’d say Ruby. But...like Garnets amazing why would you want to choose just ONE of them as your favorite when..

 Likes classical music, R & B, Soft...indie songs, Soft pop, Trap music & Bossa Nova 

If Ava did marry him she’d probably get locked into a loveless marriage for power that doesn’t exist 

If he found out about Ava’s lies he might have a fucking meltdown. :D like everything he was working towards EVERYTHING would have been for nothing. 

That is until the prospect of watching how the human world continues to function without magic...he’d realize they have TECHNOLOGY and how...amazing it is. 

Leif

The more he likes you the more he’ll want to stab you. Just how it is

The more he’s attracted to someone the more he’ll want to stab their guts out. he’s weird like that.

Big sadist I mean we already know this but like in all the ways? ya know?Like he literally gets an orgasmic feeling in his veins when he slices someone open kind of sadistic.  

If he was a human he would probably be a doctor or surgeon who only has his job because it allows him to legally cut people open.

would’ve probably been one of those school bullies who only bullies someone because he’s in love with them if he was a human

You could literally get him to do anything by being like “ I bet you couldn’t do that. “ or saying “ ____ go get the ____ for me” He makes everything into a competition.

Broke EVERYTHING when he was a child. 

Tried to eat a cactus, because Asch dared him to.  

Asch didn’t think he’d actually do it. 

 His sin is PRIDE of course, which is why he feels like he has to prove everything and lives to have his ego STROKED.

Later he tried to shove a cactus up his ass because a stranger on the internet said that only cowards don’t use cacti as dildo’s 

He had to go to the doctor many times. 

He really liked the large amount of sharp objects in the hospital room 

He may or may not be banned from that hospital

The nurse had to file a restraining order it was a sad day.  But they got the pricks out!! and that’s all that matters! PLUS Leif got a new thumb to add to his collection!

He really likes it because its a special decorated one. With PAINT on the tips. its weird and shiny. The nurse probably won’t need it anyways. 

He has a rotting placenta in his bedroom no one knows where he got it!(AND NOBODY ASKS) but it still has the umbilical cord attached no baby though :(   

He isn’t allowed outside anymore for obvious reasons

He found out what Furbies where and fell in love with them instantly . He stole 20 

He made a Furby organ. why? Because its infinitely stupider and more terrifying than a regular one. He forced Rhys to help cause Rhys is smart. It still took like 90 tries and costed Ava alot of money, and Furbies.

He keeps it in his room and he plays it constantly. Mostly to annoy Asch, Ava, and everyone else around him. He also loves the fact that its called an organ. 

He was dared to eat a jar of nails and he fucking did it. 

He obviously had to use healing magic on himself 

He’s really hot for Noi. Like...a bit too much no one notices though.

 A bit hotter for Ava than Noi though, That’s why he keeps wanting to penetrate her with his knife. The more he threatens to do this the more he likes you. 

His element is Life, or earth. Mostly life which is why he’s so vigorous and excited. 

This is also the reason why he’s so obsessed with killing things. when you live your ALWAYS killing, every move you make you end thousands of lives just like that!  Daemos of the life element seem to want to enjoy life to the fullest and never look back. EVER 

As such he’s also good at cultivating life, weather it be a plant or an animal. Everyones always surprised by this

Back on Daemos before his snap he’d actually be alot kinder to Noi, ((IN the first 4 episodes whenever Noi got hurt he was the only one to ever show any concern. I find that interesting in contrast to how he threw that out in some of the later ones. )) He’d often be the one that consoles noi or talks things out with him. 

Leif is more aggressive, energetic and far more cruel in more docile environments. He becomes much more empathetic, & Calm in hostile ones. ((Like that time where he actually got on Rhys’s case for being too hard on Asch, or the times when he was like “Hey are we actually going to let Noi die” and offering to heal Noi when he was writhing in pain when they came to earth.  ))  

He’s actually more perceptive then he seems, he cares about those around him NORMALLY its just going this long without killing anything is maddening for him. HE NEEDS TO KILL. to let it all out, once he does he’ll act as he normally does.  

He was the only one even remotely kind to Noi back on daemos, that changed when they got to earth. (besides Pierce. ) 

 Though due to his normal lack of empathy in a world where he’s human he’d probably be one of those people who just don’t care about how what they say affects those around them. Doing and saying whatever he wants regardless of how others may interpret that. 

He LOVES Skullgirls. He really likes the character designs and the fact that double always has organs or something hanging out. 

 He also loves all horror movies and video games where he gets to cause mayhem; Like Saints Row, or Grand Theft Auto!  

 He’d be the only one of the daemos that is fully accepting of the weird side of the internet. You know the WEIRD side. He’d be into all of the bizar kinky fetishes you’d find on Furraffinity you just know it.  

 He doesn’t actually like Ava he more-so see’s her as a trophy? I mean well he DOES but he’s mostly in the whole fight for her thing to win a prize. And she’s the prize.   ((Well at least before the newest episode)) 

Pierce

The most Physically affectionate of the daemos even more so than Noi

Big buff bara man. LIKE BY FAR THE BUFFEST 

Would probably run an animal shelter or something if he could

Would be running an animal shelter or something if he was human

Likes….fluffy. waayyy too much 

He’s by far the most empathetic of the daemos. Yes even Noi then again Noi isn’t very empathetic. 

 Very tired 24/7 needs coffee to sustain himself. 

 Often by himself in the quiet. sometimes while alone with his thoughts they spiral out of control, Regret, Doubt, Despair, Uncertainty, Fear, Insecurity.  All at once. Does he cry not at all. He suffers as he stands Silent. ultimately its impossible to tell when he’s having one of these moments as he doesn’t show it on his face.    

 Big PP 

He is very loyal but his loyalty isn’t...friendship. He doesn’t really like Asch very much, but he does trust his judgement and follow his orders. He’s a knight after all, besides he appears to have some connection to one of Asches family members ((The daemos in that Flashback had a crown on their horn)

He likes standing because when he stands theirs no threat of getting too comfortable, no chance of falling asleep and drifting away, no chance of drifting into sleep and deciding to never wake up again, no chance of getting lost in the comforts of the object beneath him. 

He is the one that cares for Ava the most  

 Doesn’t really care about the cultural norms on daemos. he flows free like the wind and accepts any new and sudden changes. 

Heavyish sleeper, gets grumpy when woken up.  Like if your trying to kill him his instincts will kick in and he will wake up but otherwise he’ll just stay asleep. LIKE THROUGH EVERYTHING 

Though while he is the most empathetic of the Daemos he’s also prone to intense levels of apathy, where he just shuts down silent lost in his thoughts unable to be disturbed. these are only momentary  

His element is air. Because of this he’s mostly just free and flowing.  

 Sometimes gives Ava Piggy Back rides to make her feel tall 

 Potentially one of the only one of the Daemos that genuinely care about Ava. 

But also potentially only see’s Ava as a cute pet to love on rather than a person in and of herself. But ultimately he does also care about her feelings, and her opinion on things.

 I prefer to think the latter rather than the former. 

one time he accidentally befriended a large swarm of bee’s and they followed him to Ava’s house. 

 Gives Ava piggy back rides 

Out of the Daemos he’s the one who Ava is closest to. The others have yet to even notice this. 

 One time the boys found porn on the phone and just gathered around the phone looking at it confused all bug eyed. Pierce saw the filth on the screen and made the executive decision to yeet it out the window. 

Ava had to buy a new phone 

 Has a rough yet gentle touch. he takes care and caution when dealing with life. 

because of the above him and Leif have an impossibly hard time cooperating when its just them. 

The best with animals. 

 When not caught up in apathy he is the exact opposite. He becomes far too 

Noi

He would enjoy fortnight if he played it

Would thrive off of old memes 

If he was human he would be that one friend you wouldn’t want to hang out with because he fortnight dances, dabs, uses outdated memes, rick rolls people, and everything unironically.

 The least muscular & Thicc by far. he doesn’t have any meat on his bones, unlike the other 4. Flat boney ass. 

He’d probably be some sort of social media icon or a street performer if he was human. He thrives off of validation. Though because he’s a clumsy fuck street preforming wouldn’t be the best gig for him.

Likes music the most

Would probably be the first of the Daemos to watch and enjoy Steven Universe. ((Though I’d bet the others would come around. They always come around))

 He Rick Rolled Rhys one time. 

 His sin is Envy, he often feels insecure about himself, and he looks up to everyone else seeing how “Cool” or great they are. ALWAYS saying “GOOD JOB ____” whenever they do something cool, he’s always excited but with that excitement comes the thoughts...Why can’t I do things like that? I wish I COULD BE STRONG LIKE PIERCE, I wish I COULD BE SMART LIKE RHYS, I wish I could be PAMPERED LIKE ASCH, I wish I COULD BE HANDSOME LIKE LEIF. That’s why he’s so focused on being better than everyone else. I wanna try! Let me see it! LET ME TRY FOR ONCE. that comes from not only desire but ENVY. he just channels this envy in a much healthier way than most would. *Cough* Leif *Cough* 

 He has EXTREME insecurity problems and longs more than anything to be better than the others. 

After he found out what breakdancing was he dedicated SO MUCH of his time trying to learn how to do it. 

He may or may not be obsessed with that 

 He also really likes Ava. But he’s moreso in love with the idea of her? He doesn’t really listen to much of what she says due to the fact that he’s so scatterbrained and spacey. He just likes when she talks. He mostly fell in love with Ava because she was the first person to present themselves towards him as an option. back on Daemos he was relatively low class. Thus he was viewed as unmarriageable, worthless, dumb, WEAK, & Poor, So trying to enter a relationship with ANYONE was out of the question. The boy thought he would die without finding love.

 He thought Ava was actually GENUINELY interested in romancing him and because of that it excited him. NO ONE HAD EVER actually wanted to romance him. Back at home NO ONE liked him, no one was ever kind to him. Well Leif sometimes was pierce would show some kind of a...paternal affection rarely. But Leif also treated him cruelly and insulted him like the others.

Due to how loving and compassionate he is he was kicked  out of his household. 

 Despite this Noi isn’t exactly empathetic. He doesn’t pay attention to the emotions of others he’s far too caught up in himself.  

In the first 2 days on Earth He & Leif would shit talk Asch behind his back. Mostly talking about how they didn’t really like this plan and just vent their frustrations out at eachother 

Starting on episode 5 him and Leif just kinda. He became too scared of Leif to even approach him as much and thus he kinda grew apart from him. thus causing him to latch more onto Ava. AVA likes him, unlike them. HE HAS PROOF after all. 

 He’s also far too stuck up in the idea of a powerful princess loving him a lowly peasant a low ranking knight someone who.....who wouldn’t be worth anything to her.

If they were to find out about ALL of Ava’s lies he’d take it the 2nd hardest. Asch would be the first, Rhys the 3rd. Leif the 4th, & Pierce the 5th. 

 Mostly because the only reason why she chose him, the only reason why they went on a date wasn’t because she was interested in him but because she didn’t want her cover blown. He thought she actually loved him not to say she doesn’t care for him but-...he thought she WANTED him you know? 

She wouldn’t be a powerful princess, she wouldn’t be a cool sorceress, she wouldn’t be this big thing that he wanted so much she’d just be herself and then Noi’s fantasy would crumble. 

Its the dream the fantasy that someone so powerful so strong would set aside their time and pay attention to him take him out in hopes of COURTING him that he fell in love with. Not ava herself. 

That being said he does like Ava and even prefer spending time with her to half of the main cast.   

Ava

Has to take Prescription drugs

Ate cat food once when she was five

Probably into pet play

Really likes collars

One time she went to some bitch in her high schools  Quinceañera to release a box of 4000 angry bees upon it and run

Greedy  

 Spends alot of her time watching Anime when not with the Daemos

 Her favorite Crystal Gem is Amethyst because god damn

 No where NEAR as thick as Aphmau is. She’s alot more twiggy. 

Would totally do the WEED if her dads weren’t hovering around her 24/7 

 Has a lot of Girl on girl porn in her room. Specif under her bed and in her closet.

[sparda3g]

Kimetsu no Yaiba Chapter 196 Review

The series’ end is up in the air as far as I’m aware; however, this chapter delivered the upmost satisfaction that I don’t mind if it does or not. It can abruptly end here and I’ll still be satisfied. That’s pushing it too far; it needs a rewarding conclusion for fans’ commitment. While there’s more than a rewarding development, there’s also slow revenge in motion that can and perhaps will ultimately lead to humanity’s victory.

I can’t tell you how much I love the beginning part of the chapter. Granted, I am reviewing it, but it’s one you have to read and feel the sensation; be part of the emotional rollercoaster. In other words, I can’t do it justice by simply telling you.

The beginning focuses on Nezuko walking towards the battlefield, but the real highlight is the slow transcending; back to humanity. The dialogue is very minimum; really close to be completely silent aside from heavy breathing. It’s clear from the start that Nezuko is slowly regaining her human conscious; remembering her childhood. It sadly goes to the darkest time; the moment when she lost her family.

It’s already said Muzan himself murdered them; however, what wasn’t said is why them. In fact, it’s yet to be revealed exactly. What’s revealed is that Muzan was testing his injection of certain amount of blood to create a demon who can withstand the sun. Maybe it’s a coincidence; I’m not sure. One thing was certain, he was wrong once again; just like the blue spider lily. The memory angers Nezuko; as if she’s reverting back to complete demon. That’s when the emotional roller coaster begins.

She stops and recalls the time after the tragedy. Tanjiro saved her life and the rest is history. Panel by panel, it is sheer tears inducing and I don’t only mean Nezuko’s tears. It’s her point of view and how she fondly remembers the journey since chapter 1; from confronting Giyu to meeting Zenitsu and Inosuke. It brings her down to her knees; overwhelmed by cherish memories. It continues on to her days at Demon Slayer Corps to Butterfly Estate. Shinobu was actually nice to her despite of her status; treated like a person. It’s true what they say; we’re still here just suffer, one way or another.

It’s seriously sad to see panels with characters that are no longer with them, including Genya and Tokito. Their purity can never be replicated. Nezuko gets back up and sees Tanjiro in her vision, holding out his hand. A sibling bond is the final nail to the coffin and in it, it’s demonic. Nothing can break them apart. After all these years, Nezuko has recovered her humanity. End of series.

The chapter could end right here and I will be fine with it. It already past 10 pages, so no harm, no foul. Much like the animated film, Up, this standalone scene is pleasing enough. Could you imagine the animation? Tears will overflow your room. If takes place in theaters, the employees would think Titanic made a comeback. In all seriousness, aside from already satisfied with its content, there’s more stuff to cover, and it’s rewarding in its own right.

Tanjiro and Iguro are still the only one carrying the battle while Muzan is slowing down. The good news keep on rolling for Demon Slayer Corps with the update on the Pillars. They’re being treated as Muzan continue to struggle. It’s only matter of time for some, if not all, to return and give him an educational beat down. The lesson will be, “don’t screw with them.”

I like the acknowledgement from Muzan towards them for two reasons. The first is establishing the idea that everyone has a contribution towards this outcome. It didn’t hinder their work effort or pedestal Tanjiro the protagonist. Remember, all of them could have legit died if Tamayo didn’t create antidote. Not to mention, there were so many times one or more escaped death, thanks to teamwork. Which brings me to the second reason: teamwork.

Yes, it is similar to the first; however, I want to address on how it didn’t flat out say, “Friendship power!” The problem that Shounen tend to have is friendship is presented as “show, don’t tell,” meaning they can scream out loud and it will automatically make them stronger. That or say their feelings of friendship is too strong to die alas the power of love. Here, it’s very convincing and stay true to the core of the genre. Plus, it has a nice way to describe with the image of a dragon.

Muzan is officially done with the battle. I know in the last chapter, he was already running away, but this time, he is committed to escape. They only have 35 minutes until dawn, so they just have to keep on pressing. But Muzan won’t have it and so, his arm begins to expand. Thank goodness for Tanjiro recollecting Yorichi’s backstory, because it’s the same thing, which means Muzan will explode into pieces. It means they’re screwed. Yorichi was a God and he couldn’t destroy all pieces; what makes you think the two can? Just before fans say sequel inbound, something goes wrong.

The sequence fooled the fans into believing either Tanjiro succeed on stopping or fail. Instead, Muzan has failed to divide. All thanks to Tamayo’s drug. Yes, it didn’t stop at aging; it goes to another substance, divide prevention. Surely, that’s all to it, right? This calls for Tamayo to make her return to reveal the truth of the drug. If her last scene wasn’t satisfying enough, this will easily take the cake.

There are four substances in the drug. The last one is cell destruction. Keep in mind, the last time we saw her, she only told Muzan to look over and see for himself. She never confirmed the number of effects, so this is all on him. That way, it doesn’t feel hokey, like she keeps revealing one after another. Plus, it’s great to see how much prepared she was. If she didn’t witness the dividing technique, he could have escaped here.

She steps in now, because it’s the perfect time to watch him suffer; slowly succumb to death. My goodness, her revenge is terrifyingly sweet. I got chills from the last panel alone. This put a smile on my face. Whether it’s sadistic or not, Muzan had it coming and deservingly so.

What a sweet revenge and rewarding chapter. The entire Nezuko scene was glorious enough to be a chapter alone. I couldn’t do it justice here, but when you read it, you’ll know it. The rest was satisfying in its own right. The contributions from all fronts won’t go in vain. Arguably, Tamayo did the most damage with that drug. Without it, well, the series would have ended earlier. I still don’t know how this will end, but my interest remains strong. Take us to the end; we’re almost there.

[solohux]

🍁♥ solohux’s October fic favourites ♥🍁

IGNORE MY LATENESS!

♡ Under The Moonlight by kittens (2866 words, Rated Teen+)

modern au, werewolf kylo, demon hux

Kylo has moved into a new neighborhood in hopes of better keeping his condition a secret and he has a very cute new neighbor.  But he might also have a few secrets.

♡ Hold Onto Hope by @darthkylorevan (719 words, Rated Teen+)

5 times fic, fluff

The first time Kylo asked, Hux curled his lips into a sneer and denied it. Instead, he rose from the bed, gathered his clothes, and left. That wasn’t him--wasn’t them. That Kylo should presume to think he would accept such a request, would indulge him in such a manner...well, he’d always thought the man wasn’t quite the smartest at times, hadn’t he?

♡ will you still love me after out first time(s) by sorryuser (1195 words, Rated Teen+)

first time, softness

some of their first times resonate with kylo.

♡ baby, i’m preying on you tonight by @theomegapoint (1047 words, Rated E)

tw noncon, omega kylo, fucking machine, hot af smut

Ren struggles against the restraints he's been locked into and Hux has no doubt that were he not sufficiently gagged, he would be cursing. It's impudent behavior from an omega, especially a bitch in heat, but Hux allows it on the grounds that Ren is about to be punished enough for six lifetimes during the course of his heat.

♡ It Will Have Blood, They Say by CrimsonFootsteps (WIP) (5605 words, Rated E)

witch kylo, familiar hux, violence and blood, amazing plot with added smut

Kylo Ren is a powerful witch, but one who was supposedly smothered in power as a child after a violent outburst during his training as a white witch.  As an adult, not remembering much if at all about magic, he began to collect artifacts that belonged to his grandfather, Vader, and in the process, activated his own immense power and the power of the Grand Grimoire. Armitage Hux is a Familiar, a human who has fused with a demon soul, and his greatest wish is to be the One- the eldest, the heir to Hell itself.  Gaining the Grimoire would instantly gain him what he desires, and at first, he thinks dealing with Kylo will be simple.  However, nothing is easy, nothing is as it seems, and a casual bond may not be enough to grant them the power to get what they desire.

♡ whoever you are, holding me now in hand by spitfire007 (WIP) (2595 words, Rated General Audience)

pre-tfa, venom au, symbiote kylo

General Hux knew that there would be several surprises that came with taking command of Starkiller Base. However, learning that Kylo Ren was the symbiote of Ben Solo was the last thing that he expected.

♡ To Run From What You Feel by @kyluxtrashbin (5095 words, Rated Teen+)

shared nightmares, hurt/comfort, plotting against snoke

Kylo and Hux, both exhausted from their ordeal on Starkiller Base, are suffering from disturbing dreams: dreams they share. And in these images they discover more about each other than they had suspected before.

♡ Stars In Ones Mind by @hemlockcryptid (1117 words, Rated General Audiences)

pre-tlj, softness

A moment of peace during an on going war

♡ Vampires Will Never Hurt You by @saltandrockets (3557 words, Rated M)

vampire kylo, hunter hux, sexual tension

Armitage hates being out in the field. He prefers to work behind the scenes—gathering information, crafting stakes and other weapons. But when conventional vampire-slaying methods fail, his only option is to play the honey pot. Turns out, vampires dig redheads.

♡ In Good Hands by @missabigailhobbs (1809 words, Rated M)

sub kylo, caning, aftercare

An expert Dom, Hux loves caning Kylo. He pushes Kylo's pain threshold further and further with 100 lashes, until Kylo is delirious and in subspace. Kylo allows Hux to do anything to him while he's in this state, even share him with friends.

♡ Below His Window by BlackKyber (4015 words, Rated General Audiences)

arranged marriage, prince ben au

Prince Ben Organa has been avoiding marriage for years. He feels that nobody would be a suitable match for him, so he studiously avoids or sabotages all the potential spouses that his parents set up for him.One day his luck runs out, when the King of a distant planet proposes that his son would be a perfect match for the wiry Ben. Unable to talk his way out of the situation, Ben begrudgingly prepares for his upcoming nuptials ... when a surprise visit from an unexpected source shifts the balance of everything.

♡ Rebirth by @jinxedambitions (7578 words, Rated E)

modern au, sub ben, dom hux, aftercare

Over a year after Ben Solo disappeared on his hunt for Armitage Hux, Poe is sent a clue by one of his informants.  While the video doesn't give any clues as to where Ben is, it certainly shows exactly who he's with and how he's spending his time.  Fully embracing the name Kylo Ren, Poe's former partner shows that years of rebellion and disciplinary actions are in the past.  By the General's hand, he has been reborn, and he is now the embodiment of control of mind and body.

♡ Safe Keeping by @centurytwitch (1922 words, Rated Teen+)

hux in peril, ghosts, protective kylo

The shuttle had been seized, for all appearances the crew missing. When the First Order regained control of the shuttle only two pirates were left alive. Interrogations and the blackbox told them of a better outcome. Despite the blood that stained the shuttle four individuals boarded the pirate ship, three pirates to escort the one in shackles. Kylo had reason to hope.

♡ What The Night Takes by @camellia-cook (9148 words, Rated E)

modern au, summoning gone wrong, witch kylo, bottom kylo, amazing smut

When Kylo's attempt to cast a very powerful, very dark spell goes awry, he accidentally calls up more than he bargained for: an ancient demoness of overwhelming supernatural power. She'll grant him the strength he's looking for, but only at a price.When Hux goes to investigate reports of a citizen in distress, he finds more than he expected: a naked, lust-crazed, half-possessed witch begging for his touch. He doesn't believe in magic, but this guy says he's going to die if Hux doesn't give him what he needs.

♡ Test Subject by pimpmypaws (2939 words, Rated E)

medical kink, subject kylo, dominant hux

Hux and Kylo are a kinky couple with a very elaborate fantasy which they act out on weekends in specifically rented places: Kylo is a laboratory mutt used by Hux, a sadistic scientist. Kylo spends his weekends in cages and on exam tables as Hux subjects him to invasive procedures, controls and monitors his every breath, his food, water intake and waste, administers bitter "medicines" and injects him with light sedatives only to clean him out and then push his bare cock into Kylo's ass. Hux, actually a medical professional, knows exactly how to make the experience intense and utterly submissive for Kylo. Both are extremely into it and it’s all consensual even though they play rough and mutt Kylo gets debased and abused.

♡ Sensory Deprivation by kyodontdoit (1168 words, Rated E)

blindfolds, sub kylo, dominant hux

Kylo Ren allows Hux to do as he likes, which starts with Hux telling him not to use the Force.

♡ Insatiable by @shinysylver (701 words, Rated E)

semi-public sex, kylo groping hux

When Ren is high on the power of the Dark Side he's insatiable. Hux likes him that way.

♡ How Do You Say ‘Kiss Me’? by @flaming-dumpster (602 words, Rated General Audiences)

language kink, flirty kylo

General Hux can speak Arkanian. Kylo Ren puts him to the test.

♡ Dark Side of the Moon by @furrygeneralhux (WIP) (7906 words, Rated E)

modern au, human to animal tf, maned wolf hux

This was not happening to Hux. He was not shifting into a giant maned wolf on the night of his date with Kylo Ren. Absolutely not, this was some sort of terrible dream. But why did it feel so real?

♡ Dancing Ewoks, Painted X-Wings by @cynicalpudding (WIP) (14,015 words, Rated E)

anastasia crossover, prince ben, friends to lovers

Ben Solo, Prince of Alderaan, disappears when the palace is attacked by followers of the evil Snoke. Years later, Luke Skywalker, the brother of Queen Leia, offers a reward for Ben’s return. Sensing an opportunity, a scheming duo, Armitage Hux and Phasma, plan to pawn off a phony. They hold auditions and choose an orphan boy with amnesia and a remarkable resemblance to the missing prince. But, they get a bit more then they bargained for in the form of the fiery and cynical Kylo Ren.

♡ Babe, I’m Here Again by @sinceyouaskedmeforataleof (WIP) (80,106 words, Rated E)

modern au, abo, omega hux, mpreg, tw cancer

It's 2008 and graduate student Armitage Hux has no idea why hes still hanging out with that nerd of a second year Ben Solo. Surely he had better things to do that sit around planning Dungeons & Dragons adventures with this not-at-all-attractive Alpha who he definitely doesn't think about constantly. A tale of illness, heartbreak, unexpected gifts, new beginnings, and rediscovery. Featuring two idiots who don't realise how much they love each other until its almost too late.

♡ Unexpected by @gonna-pop (WIP) (19,780 words, Rated E)

old married kylux, omega hux, mpreg

After twenty years together, Ben and Armitage have gotten comfortable. There are no surprises left in their marriage, and nothing new to learn about each other. That is, until Armitage unexpectedly goes into heat while they’re vacationing on a resort world — and a few days of renewed passion changes the course of their lives.

happy reading! ♥ ♥ ♥ 

[elevenelvenswords]

 A very late birthday gift for the incredibly lovely @crackinthecup <3 I really hope you’ll enjoy this, and sorry for taking so long to get around to posting this! 

Trigger warnings: cousin incest, non-con and slavery.

Happy reading! 

Stutter

Stutter, verb: talk with continued involuntary repetition of sounds, especially initial consonants.

 It was dark. That’s the first thing he could remember when he looked back on that dreadful night. Darkness seemed to swallow up everything around them, and had it not been for the turbulent sea, furious waves crashing against the shore, Celebrimbor couldn’t really tell where they were. Something big was coming. Something big and nefarious that he would never forget.

He was scared. Fear and anxiety prickled through his tense body as he watched his kindred handing spears and bows and long, sharp swords to each other, for never before had he seen the Eldar carrying such strange objects with them, and why this was happening he could not quite comprehend. He watched his father crafting them before, yes, and he heard his grandfather talking about them many a time after the Dark Vala –for this is what they called him- was released from the Halls of Mandos. Yet those weapons, those bringers of death were never put to use. This caused Celebrimbor’s eyebrows to furrow in confusion, his narrowed eyes inspecting the way his uncle, Tyelko, swung a short sword in his hand, its freshly sharpened blade slicing through the air with a low whistle.  

‘It’s all right, Tyelpe,’ he heard Kano reassuring him, his warm voice being in such stark contrast with the atmosphere around him, ‘There’s no need to be so rigid. Nothing bad is going to happen, okay?’

His uncle placed a hand upon Celebrimbor’s shoulder, and he felt himself breathing a little easier.  

‘Okay...’

Celebrimbor had never been a talkative person; he always kept his secrets to himself, he would rather spend his time in company of Huan rather than in the company of those in his family, and he would often wander around the great city of Tirion alone. He had never been able to openly share his feelings, instead he concealed them, he let them freeze on their own deep inside of him, hoping that the ice around them would shatter at some point, and with it, the feelings too. Thus, all that he could say was ‘okay’. Though he felt as though his chest might burst and that his knees would buckle.

He was so young when it happened. He had barely reached his teenage years when the First Kinslaying took place at Alqualonde. And though he did not take part in the horrific bloodshed, their screams, their anguish, the smell of decay remained deeply embedded in his heart, and like a constant reminder the memories ached and burned and scorched him.

It was dark when he saw Nelyo’s scars too. He could still see it: his uncles encircling their eldest brother’s bed, where he lay motionless, as if he were already dead. They whispered things among each other, they shared nods and curses, and he couldn’t know what they were talking about. He wanted to listen, truly he did, yet blackness grew and grew at the peripheries of his vision as his eyes scanned Nelyo’s pitiful form: a little dying thing he seemed, his bones almost puncturing the bruised skin, and the scars. Oh, the scars. Celebrimbor could not even imagine the horrors Nelyo had to go through in order to gain them. He didn’t want to imagine that, no. He felt his stomach turning upside down when his eyes met his uncle’s almost disfigured face. Nervously he bit down on his lip to stop the overwhelming flood of tears threatening to fall down his cheeks as his father approached him.

‘Look at me, Tyelpe, look at me.’ he could recall his father saying, ‘It is all going to be all right. We will take care of this, okay? Nelyo is going to be fine. He needs rest and a lot of care, but he will be all right.’

His father’s lie didn’t slip unnoticed, for Celebrimbor was smart enough to figure that Nelyo would not be all right.  

Yet ‘Okay...’ he whispered back, just before leaving the tent for some fresh air.

Okay, okay, okay. He muttered that word to himself long after he returned to his own tent, long after they first helped some broth trickle down Nelyo’s throat –his first decent meal in years, Celebrimbor suspected-, long after Nelyo renounced his name and started calling himself Maedhros instead. For Celebrimbor dearly hoped that everything would be okay in the end. No matter how unlikely it sounded to him, he still had hope that it would be okay.

And, for a little while, things really did turn out okay for him. Everything felt all right as the naked elf beside him hugged against his chest, as he plated tiny kisses across his collar bone. Everything was so exquisitely perfect in the harmonious press of bodies, in the stiffening of flesh under tender ministrations, in the wondrous kisses shared under the clear moonlight. Or the ones shared in secret within Nargothrond’s vast halls. This secret bond of theirs never failed to send annoyingly pleasant arousal rippling unbidden through his body. And he knew that Aredhel’s son felt the same way. He knew. All those times Maeglin had whispered ‘I love you’ in his flushed ear, all those times Maeglin had readily spread his legs for him, baring his soul in front of him, Celebrimbor knew that Maeglin meant it. He knew that his cousin was deeply in love with him. Like the northern raspy winds the realisation struck him- and oh how an awful premonition stung him.

Bit by bit, it voraciously ate his heart. It gnawed at him, it burned him. Yet he didn’t give voice to his worries, and he let it all slide. Nothing bad would happen to either him or Maeglin. He wouldn’t allow it. He was older now, he could defend himself and his lover. Yes, he could do that.  

It was getting dark when he lay on his back in the tall grass with Maeglin atop him. It was not dark yet. That darkness could not touch them, he desperately thought as he locked his lips on his cousin’s, and he moaned when he felt the familiar slender fingers worming their way beneath his tunic.

‘What are you thinking about?’ Celebrimbor heard Maeglin ask at some point. His breath hitched in his lungs.

‘You,’ he lied, and he immediately felt sick.  

Maeglin made no reply. He simply kissed Celebrimbor’s cheek, and the latter could feel the first tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

He received the disastrous news in broad daylight. However, it was pitch dark inside of his aching heart. Maeglin was dead, he knew. He painstakingly pondered on this new, strange reality: the reality in which Maeglin didn’t exist anymore. 

He laughed the night that followed. He bitterly laughed, and cursed, and let those hot tears trail down his burning cheeks.  

Now it was dark too. Everyday his eyes searched for something- no, for someone. But there was only darkness to embrace him. Silently he cried everyday in that horrific cell of his, hoping against hope that a miracle would happen and that a pair of arms would graciously open to welcome him in a warm embrace. But he knew that such fantasies would not become true. They couldn’t become true. For he had been living a lie.

The door creaking open ripped him from his thoughts, a radiant light emerging from the door frame. His eyes narrowed as they tried to accommodate to that holy glow, and when they did, he could clearly see who was standing over there.

A grin split across his handsome face. A mighty ring illuminating from one of his delicate fingers. That spill of golden hair across his lithe shoulders. The Maia was everything that he could wish for. That wonderful creature had come to him as a gift from the Valar, and oh, how his unbridled love for the Maia burned within his chest.  

He couldn’t find the strength to recoil when the other approached him. He just stood there staring, as some ancient monument would gaze ahead, without being able to blink or tare its look away.

‘How is my pet today, hmm?’ the Maia purred, and Celebrimbor wanted to spit him in that lovely face of his.

‘Fuck you, Annatar!’ he hissed between gritted teeth, his blood nearly simmering in his veins.

Slap.

The clout caught him off guard and he winced in pain, craddling his throbbing cheek in his hand.

‘That was not very polite of you, now was it, Tyelpe?’ Annatar calmly scolded as one would scold a dog. A hand stretched towards him, petting him atop his head, and humiliation stabbed through his whole being. He made to twist away from that sadistically gentle touch, yet it was a futile attempt as some dark puissance bound him to stillness.

Shameful tears poured down his face that night while Annatar thrust between his quivering thighs –for Annatar was in the mood for some rough bedplay that night-. The dark Maia successfully wrung yelp after yelp, scream after scream from his bruised mouth. And still, he couldn’t quite bring himself to abhor it.

For he dearly loved Annatar. With all that he had, Celebrimbor loved him. He told himself that now he was stronger, wiser, that he would not make the same mistakes as his family. But oh, ruin awaited ahead.

‘P-please...’ he moaned.

‘N-no...’ he stuttered.

‘S-stop!’

He fought-

No.

He tried-

Oh.

He failed.

He thought that-

He should have...

Ah.

It was dark. And that is all that Celebrimbor knew.  

[canadiankazz]

The Ninth Time - An L.A. by Night Fanfic

This was written directly in response to Season 2 Episode 2 “Eye for an Eye.” I decided the events at the Grove also happened in my "Feeds From" Alternative Universe, wherein Jasper has been feeding from Annabelle for some time now and they have developed a Blood Bond. Assume that the Grove Incident more or less how it did in the game, but with a different ending to suit my needs and the needs of my loyal readers and new readers alike.

SPOILERS for the end of Campaign 1, the one-shots, and up to an including Episode 2 of Season 2. This was written before the author saw Episode 5 of Season 2. It’s obviously worth reading the rest of the "Feeds From" series before this part. 

The Entire ‘Feeds From’ Master List Can be Found Here

I lay no claim to owning any of the characters involved.

I felt like we came teasingly close to something like the beginning of this fic series of mine happening at the end of "Eye for an Eye." Though Jasper told Annabelle "no" in the episode, in this AU, things would have gone a little differently.

Thank you to everyone who had enjoyed this series. Thank you always to @cravatfiend and @gokaiyellow for their love and support.

Also posted to the author’s Ao3.

First Posted Feb. 26, 2019.

The Ninth Time

It had been a hell of a night. Jasper was still reeling from everything. X, ghosts, Tremere, the Grove, Marcos, fire, decapitation...

He wasn't sure which was worse, the physical pain from his injuries, or his Beast gnashing and clawing at his insides in silent rage. He had over taxed his body tonight, and was going to be paying for it for several nights to come. It was worth it, he told himself. The Tremere were safe. Annabelle was safe. It was worth it. It was worth it.

Annabelle had offered to help him when he told her he was leaving the club's basement to go home to do what he could to fix himself. He had eyed the others in the room. His and Annabelle's relationship had been successfully kept secret from the rest of the coterie and the world at large so far. He knew she was worried about him. He didn't need a Blood Bond to tell him that. At the same time, however, he didn't want to risk anyone finding out, so he had told her no, there was nothing he would have her do.

And so he left without her, and made his way home via the sewers.

Jasper's phone rang. It was Baron Abrams' number. Jasper snarled to himself, preparing for an uncomfortable discussion. Abrams was very likely aware of what had happened at the Grove by now. Jasper answered it, holding the phone up to his non-burned side. “Hello?”

The connection was a little choppy. Phone signal was sometimes difficult in the sewers and tunnels. “Jasper? I can barely hear you. Where are you?” Issac Abrams asked.

“My apologies. I am underground at the moment, sir.”

“Ah. I am aware of what happened at the Grove. Victor called me. Also... I have seen the web video he posted.”

Jasper growled. Damn Victor and his stupid live stream. “Things did, unfortunately, get a little out of control.”

“... Are you alright? You sound rough.”

“I was injured in the events. I'll be fine.” He sure as hell didn't look or feel fine, but he wasn't telling the Baron about that.

“Well, I'm glad you'll live. I'm not calling to shout at you about that. I'm going to pay Victor a visit tomorrow night.”

Jasper grinned. He hoped he would be there for that.

“No, I'm calling about the individual I sent to you,” Abrams said.

Jasper had also been expecting something like this. The Ivory Tower were moving in and he had a prisoner who belonged to them in the cage in his sanctum. In particular, he had Chaz Price as his prisoner. He had only been there for a few months, but it had been a very busy few months. It had brought Jasper a lot of sadistic joy having Chaz to torment, but it had meant that Annabelle was unable to visit him at his sanctum. She didn't know about Chaz, and Nelli certainly didn't know either.

“Yes?”

“Vanovar has negotiated for a prisoner swap. He tried to go back on it, but I'm holding him to it. Mr. Price is going to be removed from your safekeeping.”

“Who of ours did they have prisoner?”

“That is not something I can divulge with you, Jasper. Can you have Mr. Price prepared for transport in the next hour?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I will send a team to pick him up in one hour. We will talk more later about what happened at the Grove tomorrow night. I'm not at all happy, Jasper.”

“Nor should you be,” Jasper agreed.

Abrams hung up. Jasper put his phone away.

Well, this did change things. Part of him was a little disappointed to lose Chaz, but a more overwhelming part of him was glad. Soon Annabelle could visit him at home again. It meant he had to get a move on through. He couldn't stop and rest yet, as badly as his body and soul was crying out for it.

Jasper was in an awful lot of pain. He had been shot, and he knew he had torn, bruised or otherwise pulled almost every muscle and tendon in his arms and shoulders. As bad as that was, however, it paled in comparison to the pain of the burn Kyoko the Tremere had accidentally given him. His skin on the left side of his face was black and scorched, from nose to ear and scalp down his neck almost to his shoulder. It had missed his eye by millimetres. Every facial expression hurt. He wasn't angry at Kyoko, but only because she had been overly apologetic about it and he had made a promise to Eva to make sure the Wyrd Sisters came to no harm. Jasper was beyond exhausted, but he had to push himself, just a little more. Then he could rest, and be ready for whatever chaos would happen due to his actions at the Grove that night.

As soon as Jasper got into his sanctum, he made a bee line for his cage. Chaz was sitting with his back against the bars. He glanced at Jasper when he came in and did a double-take. “Good Lord!”

“Hi, Chaz.” Jasper grinned and growled. “I have good news.”

Chaz got to his feet, eyeing Jasper. “Well, seeing as it appears you've come face-to-face with one of the banes, I would consider that good news already! It's only disappointing they didn't finish the job properly,” he sneered.

“Ha,” Jasper said dryly. “Yes. There was an unfortunate accident tonight, but that's not the good news.”

Chaz arched a perfect Toreador eyebrow at him. “Then what, pray tell, is the good news?”

Jasper grabbed at him. He had enough energy left to catch him, though he tore Chaz's shirt again as he struggled to escape. Jasper didn't care. He bit down hard into Chaz's arm, ignoring the hiss of pain and protest. He drained enough to weaken his prisoner and stifle his own Beast for the time being. Then he grabbed the stake he kept close by and, while Chaz was still recovering, plunged it into his chest. Chaz's face became frozen in a sneer of rage and pain. Jasper unlocked the cell and painfully dragged his body out. He secured a black pillow case over Chaz's head for good measure and tied his arms behind his back with zip ties. He was not at all delicate in dragging Chaz up the tunnels that lead out to his front door and was quite happy to turn it over to Abrams' men when they arrived. Jasper returned to his now quiet sanctum and smiled. Already, things felt more peaceful.

He texted Annabelle in their private chat. “I know what I said before, but I was just covering because of the others in the room. Can you come over?”

It took her a little while to reply. “To your place? What about your GUEST?”

Jasper smirked at her capitalisation. “The guest has been removed. Abrams has taken him away.”

“Good,” she replied. “I'd love to come over, but I can't leave. There's a massive crowd outside because of the live stream.”

Jasper snarled to himself. He didn't want to have to go all the way back to the club to get her, but she didn't know the tunnels like he did. “I'll come back and get you. We'll go the back way,” he texted.

“Through the... thing?”

“No. We'll skirt the edge of it.”

“Okay. I'll make an excuse to Victor. See you in a bit.”

Just before he put his phone away, he noticed a single heart emoji she had sent him.

Walking all the way back to Club Maharajah seemed to take forever. He tried to heal as he went. He knew that the burn would take a long time to go away, but he could at least do something about the ache in his arms. He felt incredibly weary and brain dead. He just wanted to lie down and let everything stop for a little while. Soon, soon he could, and even better, soon Annabelle would be by his side again.

He texted Annabelle when he got to the secret door that led to Victor's basement and waited for Annabelle to appear. He had a few minutes to wait, but eventually, Annabelle crept out and joined him in the tunnels. She looked at him with a mixture of sadness, relief and fear, taking in his burns once again. “Oh, Jasper...” she sighed. She put her arms around him and hugged him gently.

“I'll be alright,” he assured her softly as they pulled away from their hug. He sounded exhausted. “I want to go home though.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let's get you home,” she agreed.

He started back down the tunnels with her. Annabelle held his hand as they walked. Neither of them noticed the rat hiding in the shadows of the tunnel, watching them carefully. It followed them down the passage, making sure to keep far enough away to remain unnoticed, but close enough to see and hear them.

“So... what the hell happened in that stairwell?” Annabelle demanded after a minute.

Jasper sighed. “Well... the Wyrd Sisters were stopped half way down by police, who were shooting at them. I jumped down the stairs to protect them and I knocked out the cops. Little did I know that the Tremere were preparing a spell, and it hit me instead of the cops.”

Annabelle's eyes went very wide. “You mean they cast fireball?!”

“Yup. And it hit me right in the face.”

“Oh, my God... did you know they could do that?”

“Nope.”

“Did you kill the police?”

“I don’t know. I tried not to.”

“And what happened then?”

“I Frenzied. I ran. I panicked... I'm lucky I stopped before I ran out into the parking lot.”

Annabelle squeezed his hand. “I felt like you were in trouble. I was so afraid when I saw that Sheriff guy outside the door... I just ran at him. I tried to stake him.”

“Yeah. I saw the stake. It was a good thought Annabelle, but your aim was a little off.” He was so proud of her. “You are so strong.”

“And then you jumped out and...”

“...and I cut his head off. Yeah.”

“The look on his face was priceless! He never saw you coming.” Annabelle let out a little sigh, trying not to smell the sewage as they passed. “We're going to be in big trouble for that, aren't we?” It wasn't really a question. Annabelle knew enough about the political climate to know that there would be major consequences.

Jasper shrugged with a little wince. “I'll be in trouble. You'll be fine.”

“I won't let them hurt you,” she vowed.

“I don't know if you could stop them if they really tired, but... I appreciate it, Annabelle.”

They continued walking. He could tell that Annabelle was upset. She was also still a little hurt from being thrown into a smart car, but she was far better off than he was.

“I'm glad that your prisoner is gone,” she said softly as they got to the door to his sanctum.

“I am too,” he confessed as he pulled the door open.

The interior of his sanctum had changed little since Annabelle was last there. Jasper heaved the door closed behind her with a sigh. The rat, who had followed them all the way there unnoticed, paused to scratch itself, then it scampered off towards Griffith College.

Inside the sanctum, Annabelle was checking her phone. She groaned. “Damn it, Victor...”

“What?”

“Everyone I know is messaging me about the live stream and the Baby B thing,” Annabelle mumbled as she scrolled her phone. “Shit... people I haven't seen in forever... some people I've been trying to avoid...” She sighed and turned her phone off. “I'm not dealing with any of that right now. I'm here for you.”

“I have something to show you,” Jasper said.

“Yeah?”

He led her through to his bedroom and she smiled when she saw what he had done in there. His tiny single bed was gone. In its place was something closer to a queen size. He also had an end table in there now, near the bed. Both looked cheap and simple, but Annabelle was glad all the same. “Aww, Jasper! You got a real bed!”

“I did, yes, in the hopes you'd eventually be able to come back down here.” He went over to it and sat down with a pained, but relieved sigh.

“It's good.” Annabelle sat next to him and frowned at his burns again. “Will you let me help you now?”

“There's really not a lot you can do.”

“I want to try though.” He looked like he was going to protest and she cut him off. “You're really not in any position to say no, Jasper,” she snapped.

He snarled a little to himself. It was already harder for him to say no to her lately because of their Bond, but when she used that stern tone of voice he found it next to impossible. “Alright.”

“Okay. Thank you.” She softened her voice. “First things first... hoodie off, please.”

He growled.

“Jasper...” she scolded. “Don't make that face at me.”

Reluctantly, he lowered his hood and started to gingerly remove the hoodie. There was burn damage to it as well, and he hissed in pain when the fabric pulled away from where it had stuck to his burned flesh. Annabelle bit her lip as the extent of the damage was released. The skin around the edge of the burn was black, curled and flaking. The flesh visible inside was red and sore. It was bad enough to make Annabelle ignore the fact that Jasper was now sitting there, temporarily naked from the waist up. “Jesus...” she breathed. “That looks bad.”

“It feels worse.”

“Can you take painkillers? Would painkillers even work?”

“No. Can't take any pills, and even if they did work, I don't have any medicines here anyway.”

“So... you just have to deal with the pain?” Annabelle sounded heart broken.

“Yeah.”

Annabelle's lower lip trembled. He could feel her sadness towards him.

“C-can I at least dress the wound?” she offered. “Would that help?”

“No... I think we should leave it. I don't have to worry about infection. I will heal, Annabelle,” he tried to reassure her. He took her hand. “It might take me a few nights, but soon I'll be good as new. Well... new-ish. All I need is blood and time. Thank you though. I know you're trying to help. I'm glad you're here.”

“I can give you blood,” Annabelle said.

“What about your injuries?”

“I'm fine. Just a bruise.” She couldn't help but smile a little. “The car got it worse than me.”

“He could have killed you,” he said softly. “I was incredibly lucky to be able to stop him.”

“I know,” Annabelle said. “When I saw him walking around after you pushed him off the roof, I knew that... attacking him was stupid, but... he was going to...” Her voice broke with emotion as she fought back a few tears. The whole situation had been very intense and now that the adrenaline from it had well and truly faded, other emotions forced their way in.

“You did good, Annabelle,” he assured her. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

She wiped away a blood tear. “I just... I don't want to lose you.”

“I don't want to lose you either. But I'm still here, mostly. You're still here. Everyone we care about or were trying to protect are still here. We've survived to fight another night.”

Annabelle nodded. She went to hug him and suddenly remembered that he was shirtless. She hesitated, looking at his torso. He was pale as death, and in the dim light of the bedroom, his skin looked almost grey. Her eyes were drawn to the black veins that crossed his skin. They made him look like he had some kind if disease from a fantasy novel.

Jasper noticed her hesitation. “I'm going to get another hoodie. I'll be right back.” He got up with a small grimace and headed to his closet. He retrieved one from the tiny hidden room behind a bookcase he kept them in and slipped it on. He hated being exposed. He accepted that he could not change what he looked like, but that didn't mean he had to look at himself. There were very deliberately no mirrors in his sanctum. Jasper left his hood down for now, to avoid having the fabric stick to the burn again. He returned to his bedroom. Annabelle was waiting.

“It's stupid that you don't keep your clothes in your bedroom,” she told him. “If you can get a better bed, you can get a dresser.”

He smirked. “Noted.” He reclined back on his new bed, making sure to keep Annabelle on his non-burned side. He allowed himself a groan and growl of pain. Annabelle leaned against him carefully. He could feel her relaxing gradually.

“I still would like to feed you, if you'd let me,” she mumbled.

“I'm okay.”

Annabelle looked doubtful. “You don't look okay. You look like you're in pain, and if my blood will help with that, then I want to give it to you.”

Jasper was truly too exhausted to argue. He also was in a lot of pain. He wanted to itch at his face and couldn't, so he made a fist instead. He watched as Annabelle pulled one arm out of the sleeve of her jacket, wincing slightly as she did so, and offered him her wrist. He looked from her wrist to her face and back again, still reluctant.

“Please?” Annabelle said. “Just a little bit. Then I'll feel I've helped and I'll stop bothering you about it. You started a war to save my life. It's the least I can do.”

Jasper sighed and gave in. “Alright.” He sat up a little in bed and took Annabelle's hand and arm gently in his hands. He considered her smooth skin for a moment, then bit down gently on her wrist. He was mindful not to damage her tendons. Annabelle gasped and flinched, but forced herself to hold still. It had been a very long time since he had fed on her like this – from the wrist and without her activating Blush of Life first. Her Vitae lacked the potent warmth that he had tasted in her then, but it was still rich and nourishing. He heard Annabelle moan softly through closed lips as the pleasure of the Kiss kicked in. This wasn't an orgasmic bite, but it wasn't intended to be. He spent a few seconds licking gently as her skin as the blood seeped out. He could taste her affection for him as well as her anxieties. She wanted to protect him just as much as he wanted to protect her.

Before long, he licked her wound closed. He hadn't taken much from her as all this time, but she seemed satisfied with his effort all the same.

“Thank you,” he mumbled as he let her arm go.

She surprised him by placing a gentle kiss on the non-burned side of his head, just above his ear and temple. He felt her soft lips and the brush of her hair on his skin. Jasper blinked, but when he glanced at her, she had put her arm back inside her sleeve and snuggled down, hugging him gently around his ribs, as if she hadn't kissed him at all. He knew he hadn't imagined it, but decided he wouldn’t say anything about it if she didn't. She looked nearly as tired as he felt. He relaxed down next to her, resting burned-side up.

“The new bed is good.” Annabelle concluded, sounding sleepy.

“I'm glad you approve. And... until Abrams makes me babysit some other Ivory Tower asshole, you are welcome here any time. Just give me a heads up in case I'm not home.”

“Thank you.”

Annabelle snuggled herself closer, tucking herself gently under his chin. She was very mindful of his burns, careful not to touch them at all. He put a protective arm around her back.

When dawn broke over the city and the morning news reported on the Incident at the Grove, Jasper and Annabelle missed it. They were snug safely in his haven, sleeping the sleep of the dead.

[reyloforcebalance]

True Power

My submission for the @two-halves-of-reylo weekly challenge (Week 18: Dark Side). These weekly challenge fics are accidentally turning into a story… if you want to catch up, check out the previous ones on AO3. Thanks for reading!

Kylo Ren roars in pain as the blade slices through his flesh, pinning him to the wall.

Both his hands fly up to grip the center of the double-sided sword now sticking out of his right shoulder. He looks up into the blank face staring down from above.

The droid cocks its head and twists the blade like it’s relishing the moment. It’s humanoid— a lithe body with two arms, two legs, and an armored shell that mimics the curves of human musculature.  Kylo can see his own reflection in its face, which is nothing but an oval-shaped screen nested inside a large, metallic hood.

It leans in menacingly, its hand sliding slightly down the hilt as it does.

And that’s exactly the opportunity Kylo needs.

In an instant, he snaps the arbir blade in two, then drives the newly freed end into a weak spot in the droid’s armor, a small opening just between its neck and shoulder.

The droid jerks back mechanically, releasing the end still pinning Kylo to the wall and reaching over to dislodge the blade from its body. Kylo grits his teeth and groans as he pulls the sword out of his flesh.

He ducks in anticipation of the droid’s next move, a hard jab to his core, sidestepping past it and gaining some distance. He whips back around to see the droid beginning to stand from a kneeling position, gripping the remaining end of its own blade in one hand and the intact blade it disarmed him of in the other. It turns methodically towards him.

Rather than resume its assault, it cocks its head again, then steps slowly to the side, moving along a curved path. Despite its mechanical movements, the droid has the air of a predator teasing its prey, seeming to take pleasure in building up tension before an attack.

Kylo begins circling it as well, gripping the hilt of the sword still slick with his own blood. He breathes heavily, dripping with sweat, dark locks of hair sticking to his forehead. The wound in his shoulder throbs, a regular rhythm of shooting pain, crackling like electricity through his veins. He concentrates on the feeling, how the nerves in his damaged flesh scream for attention, begging for healing, begging for him to stop.

But he doesn’t.

Instead he switches the sword from his left hand to his right and squeezes. The damaged muscles in his shoulder howl in response. As the pain surges through his body, Kylo can’t stop a smile from creeping across his lips.

It’s been a long time since he’s been injured in the training room. A very long time.

He likes this droid. He likes it very much.

He’s been waiting all day for this. And he’s not disappointed. He’s never seen a sentry droid fight like this one. It has all the advantages of a robotic combatant— an extensive catalogue of martial skills, flawless execution— but it’s programmed with an advanced AI that’s designed manipulate psychological weaknesses, giving it an eerie sense of personality and a flair for cruelty in combat.

It doesn’t just fight to win. It fights to demoralize, to utterly exhaust the opponent’s mind and body. During the demonstration this morning, it thrashed Hux’s cadets with what Kylo can only describe as a kind of sadistic brutality. It taunted, it terrorized, and it took every opportunity to inflict flesh wounds, forcing its opponents to fight through physical pain.

Which is why he’s been absolutely burning to get into the training room alone with it, to face it one on one.

Suddenly, Kylo jerks to the right, just barely dodging the blade whizzing by his cheek. The droid continues to circle him as though nothing happened, now armed only with the double-sided sword. Without thinking, Kylo balls his left hand into a fist and beats it against the wound in his shoulder three times, sending a sharp, searing pains down the length of his arm.  

The droid abruptly whips into action, snapping its sword in two and charging forward. It launches into a relentless offense, its blades a flurry of motion, slashing and thrusting with power, precision, and inhuman speed. Kylo struggles to fend off the forceful blows dealt by his stronger opponent, each impact bringing a newer, deeper wave of pain to his right shoulder.

To an outsider, the battle would seem to be all but won. Kylo’s at the disadvantage in every way. The droid is physically larger and stronger. It has two blades to Kylo’s one. It’s progressively backing him into a corner with its complex combination of slashing and hacking, perfectly executed. And though both of them are injured, the droid feels no pain.

Of course, this is where a casual observer might wonder why Kylo’s choosing to wield his one blade with his injured arm.

And here lies his advantage, an advantage very few would understand. Every time his wound is aggravated, every time the muscles tear a bit more, every time his nerves scream in pain— he grows more powerful. For any other person, that shoulder would seize, too painful and too damaged to fight with. But for him, pain increases rage, and rage increases his strength through the Force.

As Kylo continues fending off the droid’s blows, his blood turns to fire in his veins, surging through his body, charging it with dark power. He starts to feel physically stronger, clashing against the droid’s hard strikes with equal force. It’s still hacking and slashing in a series of moves intended to keep an opponent on the defense, but it’s repeating the same combination again and again and Kylo’s learning its rhythm.

Suddenly, he dodges to the left and leaps high into the air. He lands on top of the droid and instantly begins driving his blade into its right shoulder with furious strikes— one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight times and the droid’s right arm is dislodged from the rest of its body. Before it hits the floor, Kylo flips off the droid’s shoulders, landing behind it. He immediately whips around.

The droid is beginning to kneel, reaching for its severed arm with its remaining limb, intending to reattach it. But Kylo lifts the arm into the air with a wave of his hand and clenches his fist, crunching it into a ball of metal and wires before casting it across the training room.

The droid turns its head, following its now destroyed arm with its blank screen of a face. Kylo seethes, beating his right shoulder before lunging forward. He meets the droid’s blade with a fiery combination of strikes, well-practiced and fueled by the Force raging through him. He’s pure energy, pure fire, now physically stronger than his opponent, forcefully slashing and hacking, pushing the droid backwards as it fends off the blows reigning down upon it.

He gives himself over the rage, his true weapon, and it rips through him in a ferocious blast of violence. His mind is consumed by the power he feels in this moment, the strange contradiction of unrestrained passion and white hot control. He thrusts his blade forward, across, down, again and again and again, overwhelming the droid, giving it no opportunity to strike back.

This fight is his. This droid is about to become a heap of metal and wires…

Suddenly, Kylo catches sight of something out of the corner of his eye and in an instant, his rage abates, like roaring flames encountering the gushing floods of a river.

Rey stands at the side of the training room, her arms folded across her chest, observing with intense interest.

He halts his assault, only for a split second, but it’s all the opportunity the droid needs.

Kylo feels an explosive blast at his side and he immediately flies across the training room, landing on the matted floor with a thud. He hears the droid charge towards him at full speed.

“Cease all functions.” Kylo barely gets out the command before the droid reaches him. It freezes mid-rampage, remaining in statue-like position for a moment before straightening and dropping its weapon. Kylo breathes heavily, each inhale sending shooting pains throughout his left side. He pushes up from the floor, already picturing a large bruise emerging across the skin of his ribcage.

He hears Rey jogging over from the side of the room, stopping right beside him just as he fully stands. He looks down and is met with concerned eyes.  

“You’re hurt,” she tells him with knitted eyebrows, extending her right hand towards him.

“No, I’m not,” he replies with an irritated jerk of his head and she stops, dropping her arm. He wipes the sweat off his face and shudders, annoyed that the bond caught him by surprise yet again. He stoops over to pick up his weapon from the floor then walks over to the droid, appearing to examine it but really just giving himself an opportunity to catch his breath and change gears, adapt to the new situation.

It’s not that she’s unwelcome. It’s just… not an ideal time. He can’t put his finger on why, but he particularly hates it when she shows up at a time like this, when he’s tense and hot with fury.

Of course, her presence has a marked influence on that. He felt the rage start to leave his body the moment he realized she was here, like steam evaporating from a hot surface. As he leans over to pick up the droid’s weapon, he notes his blood is no longer exploding through his veins but slowing to an even flow.

He takes a minute to examine the weapons in his hands, looking both of them over then snapping them together to form a full arbir blade. All the while, he concentrates on breathing, on Rey, on what he senses in her as she stands behind him, observing.

She’s concerned. And vaguely disapproving.

He needs to distract her…

“I’m sure you remember this from the Throne room,” he announces abruptly, turning and tossing the arbir blade in her direction. Her eyes widen, caught off guard, but she catches the double-sided sword easily, her reflexes sharp. She looks down at the weapon, studying it, most likely remembering their battle with the Praetorian guards, one of them wielding a weapon much like this one.

“It’s not equipped with an ultrasonic generator,” he continues, walking towards her. “But there’s no need for one unless you’re fighting against a lightsaber.” She snaps the blade in two and brings one end close to her face to inspect it.

“Would you like to give it a try?” He asks suggestively, his lips curling upwards.

He’s been dying to get her into the training room again, to try out new weapons— ones she’s never used before— and see how she does with them. He loves being in a fight with her, watching her improvise, get creative…

“I don’t think that’s the best idea,” she responds finally as she connects the blades together again. “Not right now.” She looks up at him but her eyes almost immediately drift down to his right shoulder. “That’s an angry wound.” She nods towards the shoulder. “You shouldn’t be fighting anyone until you get that taken care of.”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything, silently extending a hand for the sword. She gives it to him with a wary expression, still looking concerned. He walks briskly past her towards a wall with weapons affixed to it. He casts the blade to the floor and immediately strides over to the washing station, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat from his face. His shoulder is still throbbing, the pain transforming into an inconvenience now that he’s no longer in combat.

He hears Rey approach slowly from behind. He senses her burning with interest, a question on the tip of her tongue. He doesn’t turn around but quietly continues to clean himself up, taking note of the blood flow at his right shoulder. Rey stands silently, watching him, growing more impatient, that question nagging at her.

“Yes?” He draws out the word expectantly, still facing the washing station.

She doesn’t say anything. Now he senses hesitation. He shakes his head, more to himself than to her, and casts his towel to the side. He sighs heavily, finally turning around.

“What is it, Rey?” He asks impatiently, folding his arms. “I can feel you squirming with a question. Just spit it out.” His eyes bore into hers as he waits for her to speak.

She parts her lips, but no words come out. She stares up at him for a moment before looking away, seeming to wrestle with herself, like she wants to ask the question but knows she won’t like the answer. A few seconds pass in silence as she carefully considers her next action. Finally, she looks back at him, her eyes tinged with disapproval but also a little tenderness.  

“Why do you aggravate your injuries during a fight?” She asks quietly, maintaining a soft gaze. He immediately looks away, realizing why she was so hesitant to ask the question. The answer will not lead to a pleasant interaction between them.  

“Because it makes me stronger,” he tells her dismissively, turning back towards the washing station and grabbing the towel again.

“How?” She probes behind him. He dampens the towel and begins absently cleaning the area around his wound, not because he really needs to, just to do something.

“Pain is a trigger for Force-sensitives,” he answers matter-of-factly. “Pain, hatred, fear— all of it can be converted into rage. Pure energy, pure power. It increases strength, speed, endurance—”

“But at what cost?” She interrupts him. “To your body, to your mind?” He rolls his eyes, keeping his back to her. “What’s the effect of channeling that kind of energy in the long term? Won’t it ultimately weaken you, diminish you?”  

“In some ways.” He twitches his jaw, irritated, as he casts the towel back on the washing station. “But not in a way that really matters,” he finishes, turning around to face her. Rey looks him steadily, arms crossed, back straight, and feet firmly planted like she’s in a battle stance.

“What ways?” She narrows her eyes, jutting up her chin up. He blinks, folding his arms again and staring down at her neutrally.

“Over time, it can take a toll on the body,” he answers frankly. “Eventually, it can cause physical deformity. Assuming one lives long enough.”

“Are dark siders known to die young?” Something about the way she asks this sounds more like a criticism than a question. He abruptly turns and begins striding to the other end of the training room.

“That or they live for hundreds of years, like Snoke.” He hears Rey following behind him.

“So, you’ll either die in the next few years or grow to be horribly deformed.” He pushes out an exasperated exhale, continuing to charge towards the blade the droid was holding when he cut off its arm.

“I’m sure you’ll recall that Snoke’s physical deformity did nothing to diminish his power,” he snipes at her. “Just the opposite, in fact. As his body grew weaker, his strength in the Force increased a hundredfold.” He stoops down to pick up the end of the arbir blade lying on the floor.

“And it doesn’t bother you that you’ll eventually look like he did, all twisted, mangled flesh?” She still has that disapproving tone in her voice. He turns around but doesn’t look at her, instead brushing past her on his way to the side of the room.

“I honestly don’t think about it,” he calls back, hearing her tag along behind him again. “I’m sure when the time comes, it won’t really matter.”

“It won’t matter that you’ll look nothing like you do now, that you might not even look human?” She asks incredulously.

He bristles and instinctively clenches his fists, causing shooting pains in his injured shoulder. He feels himself growing more irritated, annoyed at how easily she seems to pass judgement on something she doesn’t understand.

“Power has a price, Rey,” he answers curtly.

“Well, it seems to me that the price is too high.” At that, he whips around and she halts, jumping a little in surprise.

“Really?” He steps towards her with fire in his eyes, still clenching his fists. “And what’s the basis of this judgement? What do you know about the dark side?” He spits out the question as he leans over her menacingly. “Please. Educate me.” He cocks his head in challenge.

She shrinks away a bit, her face guarded and uncertain. They stare at one another silently for a few seconds before she looks away, her eyes growing distant. He feels her emotions change, a strong sense of conviction replaced by something he can only describe as self-consciousness.

“That’s what I thought,” he says in a low voice, lingering another moment before he turns around and resumes walking. “You don’t know a damn thing about the dark side,” he calls back snidely. “In fact, I’d guess you know as much about the dark side as you do about the Jedi.” He feels this hit her hard, a harsh reminder of her ignorance about the Force. This time, he doesn’t hear her follow him.

He reaches down for the blade that the droid threw at him earlier and swoops it up from the matted floor. He attaches it to its other side, then walks over to the weapons affixed on the wall, casting it on the floor with the other one.

“Why don’t you teach me?” Rey suddenly calls to him from the middle of the room.

“About what?” He turns to find her walking slowly towards him, her arms crossed lightly, her shoulders relaxed.  

“About the dark side, about the difference between the dark and the light.” She continues towards him, her tone curious now, casual even. He narrows his eyes, suspicious of this change in her. What is she up to?

She stops just in front of him, looking up with clear, earnest eyes, like a student ready to learn. He doesn’t sense disapproval anymore, only genuine curiosity, though he can’t shake the feeling she has some kind of ulterior motive. He tilts his head, examining her closely. She maintains her gaze, her light brown eyes fixed on his, appearing completely ingenuous.

“What do you want to know?” He asks coolly, crossing his arms. Her eyes flit up to the ceiling for a moment before resting back on him.

“Start with the basics.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Based on your experience, what’s the most fundamental difference between the dark and light side of the Force?” Kylo ‘s eyebrows shoot up briefly.

“Surely that’s something you already know,” he begins in an authoritative tone. “Dark siders channel the power of the Force through emotions that are often considered negative— pain, anger, hatred, fear— whereas the light side is the opposite. The Jedi taught channeling the Force through things like peace, calm, compassion, and love. They feared the stronger emotions. They believed in restraint, in eschewing certain undesirable experiences.”

“And you disapprove of this?” She raises an eyebrow. He clicks his tongue, considering for a moment before he answers her.

“Not of channeling the Force through so-called lighter emotions,” he says decisively. “But teaching that one should completely reject feelings integral to sentient existence, feelings that can unleash the true power of the Force? That I very much disagree with.” Rey knits her eyebrows.

“What do you mean by the true power of the Force?” She tilts her head, looking a bit confused. “Is channeling the Force through peace and love not true power?” Kylo immediately scoffs.

“Rey,” he intones deeply, “You have no idea.” He steps towards her with a dark glimmer in his eyes. “You haven’t really felt the Force until you’ve felt it through rage. It���s like losing yourself yet maintaining control at the same time. Trust me. Once you get a taste of that kind of power, there’s no turning back.” Something flickers across her eyes when he says this, but the emotion is too fleeting for him to detect.

“So, you think the dark side is the stronger aspect?” She asks to confirm.

“Without question.” He practically cuts her off. “The dark side is all about unleashing one’s potential, not holding it back. All of the things the Jedi Order rejected— aggression, anger…” He leans down a little, dark eyes fixed on hers. “Unrestrained passion.” She flinches ever so subtly, almost imperceptibly. “These are all things dark siders embrace. And it’s ultimately the reason why they know the full extent of the Force’s power in a way that a Jedi never could.” He lingers for a moment, a smirk teasing the corners of his lips, before he straightens.

Rey gazes up at him softly for a few seconds, then abruptly looks away. She presses her lips together, appearing lost in thought.

“But…” She begins slowly. She looks back up at him, uncertain. “Why are emotions like anger and aggression the better way to wield the Force’s power? Are there not ways to use the Force through peace and love that can’t be done through the darker emotions?” Kylo rolls his eyes slightly.

“Yes,” he concedes begrudgingly. “But that’s not my point.” He pauses, searching his mind for the best way to explain this to her. He purses his lips and looks up to the ceiling.

“Think of it this way,” he begins confidently, looking back down at her. “The bedrock of Jedi training is meditation. It’s at the core of almost everything they teach. They even teach battle meditation.” He scoffs contemptuously, shaking his head. “That’s not to say,” he continues, “that nothing can be gained from meditation. But it’s ultimately a passive exercise. The entire Jedi philosophy is passive, to observe and maintain, not really do anything.” Rey listens intently, processing the information, more to understand than to judge.

“But dark siders,” he intones, a slow smile creeping across his lips. “The bedrock of their training is combat. It’s active. It’s all about taking any situation into your own hands and making it yours, bending it to your purpose, your will.” He feels himself grow more impassioned as he speaks, a spark igniting in his chest. “The Jedi called it darkness and that term has come to define it, but really…” He grunts softly and shakes his head. “It’s only a belief that the Force should be used to do something more than simply keep the peace. It should be used to create peace, to create order, to propel the galaxy forward through sheer will and power.”

Rey’s not looking at him anymore. She’s staring downward, her eyebrows furrowed. He senses her struggling internally, working through what he’s telling her. After a few moments, she begins nodding her head a little.

“I think I understand what you mean,” she starts slowly. She finally looks up at him, her eyes calm and confident. “And quite honestly, the Jedi philosophy of being passive is something I’m not sure I agree with. Master Skywalker taught me about that, actually.” He tenses instinctively at the reference to his uncle, and when he does, the nerves around his wound scream. He pushes out an exhale, ignoring the pain.  

“But I’m not convinced that the emotions used to wield dark side of the Force are more powerful than those used to wield the light,” Rey continues with conviction. “Compassion, love… these things aren’t passive in nature. Surely, not everything the Jedi taught about using the Force through these emotions was passive. And even if it was, that doesn’t mean such emotions can’t be used in other ways, perhaps ways that haven’t even been discovered yet.” Her eyes begin to sparkle with possibility. Kylo tilts his head in concession.

“That could be true,” he admits. “But I still don’t think anything can outmatch the unique ability of anger and aggression to harness the full power of the Force.” He juts his chin up decisively.

“I suppose that depends on your definition power,” Rey says quietly, looking down. “And I’m sure that whatever can be done through love doesn’t exact the same cost as what can be done through anger.” At this, Kylo sighs heavily, his eyes rolling upwards.

Just when he thought this conversation was going more smoothly than expected, she’s back to this again.

Rey looks up at him with solemn eyes but he doesn’t say anything. Why open up that subject again, if he can help it? He turns and begins to walk away.

“You know…” He slows at the sound of Rey’s voice. “When I appeared here today, you were on top of a droid, relieving it of its right arm,” she continues wryly, walking towards him. He stops altogether, though his back is still to her. He’s wary of where she’s going with this…

“You were so consumed in rage. You didn’t even sense my presence. Not then and for a while after. It was like nothing else existed except pain and anger and all its energy coursing through you.” He turns to face her, his expression guarded.

She walks right up to him and stops just a foot away, her eyes full of purpose but also soft and tender. They seem to pierce right through him.

“I felt how much you were enjoying it in the moment.” She pauses, unblinking. “But I also felt something else. How your body was screaming for you to stop, for you to heal. And something deeper. Like… a pain in your soul.” He closes his eyes and starts to turn away again, but Rey reaches out to stop him, gripping his forearm.

“Ben, you were the one who said that the bond brings us together when we’re feeling vulnerable.” She sounds earnest, pleading even. “All I’m asking you to do is consider that maybe, just maybe, there’s something about being in that kind of rage that’s a moment of vulnerability for you, even if it doesn’t feel that way at the time.” He pulls back, but she grips his forearm more tightly.

“Maybe the bond’s trying to get you to realize what all of this anger is doing to you.” At this, he jerks his arm away, aggravating the sharp pains in his shoulder.  

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” He spits at her with contempt. She flinches slightly, looking a little hurt, but she quickly hardens with resolve.

“I know what I feel through the bond.” She responds confidently. “I literally feel your pain, Ben. So, don’t try to lie to me. I know exactly what rage feels like for you, how it rips you apart—”

“Oh, come on, Rey,” he interrupts forcefully, stepping in closer, glaring at her with disdain. “You think you know the dark side because you saw me in a Force rage for half a minute? You don’t know anything. About the dark side, about the light side. You barely understand the Force at all.”

He steps forward, pushing her back, bearing over her, covering her with his shadow. “You’re a desert scavenger who’s only training was one week with a sad old failure of a Jedi. Why would I ever listen to anything an ignorant girl like you has to say about the Force?”

Rey’s head snaps back, eyes wide with surprise. She’s utterly speechless. He cocks his head snidely, challenging her to answer.

She looks up at him, her lips parted, surprise gradually deepening into a hurt expression. She maintains her gaze until her eyes begin to well with tears. Then she abruptly looks away, shaking her head briskly.

Kylo takes a step back, giving her some space, and observes her silently. As she wipes her cheek with the back of her hand, his chest tightens, feeling like its pulled in opposite directions. On the one hand, he still burns with resentment that she would even attempt to lecture him on how he should and should not use the Force. On the other hand… he hates seeing her like this. Especially when he’s the one who caused it.

Rey hugs herself tightly, eyes closed and head bowed, trying to collect herself. She takes several measured breaths, shallow at first but soon growing deeper and longer. Eventually, her shoulders relax and she drops her arms.

She continues to breathe steadily. He senses she’s not upset anymore. In fact, she’s entering what he can only describe as a meditative state. She feels calm, at peace, focused on everything and nothing at the same time. She stands before him like this for a minute, ignoring him completely, seeming unaware of her surroundings.

The suddenly, she does something very strange.

With her eyes still closed, she raises her right hand slowly. She stops just as she passes his injured shoulder and opens her palm, extending it forward not an inch away from his wound. She stands just like this, perfectly still, perfectly quiet, seeming to do absolutely nothing as several seconds pass. He tilts his head, eyeing her curiously.

Then he feels it.

A change in his body. The torn muscles in his shoulder begin to mend, to grow back together. His screaming nerves start to quiet. The throbbing gradually fades way. He watches, gaping, as Rey puts him back together again, taking away all of his pain until eventually, there’s nothing left.

Once he’s whole, she drops her hand, still bowing her head with closed eyes. She waits calmly for a few seconds before turning her face up to his.

She doesn’t say anything. Neither does he. They both just stare at one another. Her gaze is soft, not a hint of satisfaction or smugness or anything resembling pride. No, instead her eyes are full of something else, something he hasn’t felt from someone in a very long time.

He finds that he’s frozen, unable to move or speak, barely able to breathe. He can only stare at her, lose himself in her eyes, in this feeling he can’t quite believe is real.

She stares back at him wordlessly, as lost in him as he is in her.

Then she abruptly disappears before him like she has many times before, the loss of her presence making his heart drop in his chest.

But this time, her absence isn’t followed by that aching emptiness, that loneliness that tugs at him most cruelly just after the bond takes her away.

He’s much too consumed by something else to feel such a thing.

He stands in the center of the training room, still unable to move. His arms hang at his sides, his head still turned downward, looking at the space where Rey used to be. He’s still processing the shock of what just happened.

There are so many things he could be thinking about right now.

Like the fact that she’d clearly never done that before. He felt her acting out of instinct, not training.

Or the fact that healing is a very difficult Force skill to master, one that he never came close to being able to do himself.

Or the fact that what she just did is a perfect example of a Force ability that dark siders have never been able to fully accomplish.  

But he can’t think about any of these things. He can’t think of anything but how she was able to heal him, the emotion she tapped into to do it.

It’s very distinct. Though it’s been well over a decade since he’s felt anything like it, he recognized it immediately.

He doubts that she knows what it is. Why would she? She’s never had an occasion in her life to feel such an emotion. But she’ll recognize it for what it is soon enough…

He thinks back to those precious moments, her palm hovering next to his wound, the muscles in his shoulder growing back together. He thinks about that warm, steady glow that welled within her and through the bond, in him as well.

And for the first time, he allows himself to admit the truth.

That he’s been feeling that way about her for a long time. It’s something he’s known, but desperately tried to deny, to avoid. But now that he’s certain the feeling is returned, he can finally give himself over to it.

So, that’s exactly what he does.

He remembers the first few times the bond brought them together. He remembers what it was like to be seen, actually seen, after years of living his life under a mask. He remembers how terrifying that was. And how deeply satisfying. He hadn’t realized how much he craved it, how much he desperately wanted someone to know him, to see everything he is, even the things he’s spent his entire adult life trying to hide.

And when she saw that, when she saw his true face… her first instinct was to feel compassion for him.

Because that’s who she is. He has no idea how she could have possibly managed to become that way. Most of her life, she’s just tried to survive, completely alone, in a barren, sand-choked wasteland where practically everyone around her was willing to steal or lie or kill. Growing up in an environment like that, she should be selfish and callous. She should be bitter and untrusting, willing to betray the moment it’s convenient.

But she’s not.

Instead, she’s full of compassion and empathy. She helps perfect strangers, even when she has every reason not to. She can see the good in anything, even monster like him. She takes such pleasure in the smallest things, like a flower or the sound of rain. In so many ways, she’s still a lonely little girl. And yet she’s capable and brave, too brave sometimes. She’s imaginative, innovative, creative. She can fix anything. He’s never met someone who’s so vulnerable and so strong at the same time.

As he thinks about these things, that familiar feeling rushes upon him at once, but this time, he doesn’t bother to fight it, or bury it, or conceal it. He just experiences it, the crushing weight of it, so overwhelming it’s painful, but damn it’s the best pain he’s ever felt in his life. It’s an exquisite pain, not at all the kind that can be converted into rage. It’s only a manifestation of feeling so much, so deeply, all at once. It’s a powerful combination of every kind of desire imaginable. And now, he feels that desire blending with a deep sense of gratitude.

Because now he knows for sure that she feels the same way about him.

He stands still for several minutes, losing himself in these thoughts and emotions, until he finally wills himself to move, to turn towards the door and take one step, then another. He takes each step more quickly than the last until he accelerates into his normal, brisk stride. He presses a panel by the door and exits the training room into the wide hall of the ship.

But he doesn’t notice anything around him. He’s still in a daze, still lost in his own mind. He charges forward, seemingly with purpose, but he’s not paying attention to where he’s going.

He’s still consumed with what just happened, with everything he’s feeling.

And for just a moment, the thought occurs to him.

This emotion that’s coursing through him right now is more intense than anything he’s felt before. More intense than rage or hatred or fear. It’s so all-consuming, so deep, so dynamic.

It’s powerful. More powerful than he could have possibly imagined.

And it’s all the more powerful now that he knows it’s shared.

[chaandkeeroshni]

// Holistic healing //

somatic, physiological, spiritual healing

based on my experience with healing, informed by therapy, intensive reading and self reflection so far, years of trauma bonding can really build up strong attachment styles which don’t seem to go away so easily. attachment/attraction styles defining the kind of people we attract in our lives. and more than often, these people are very very similar to all the abusers in the past, and even if they don’t look similar, they make us feel a very similar way.

ways of giving and receiving love is learnt just like all other things, somatically and physiologically. Our body has responses to the kind of love we receive and these responses become patterns over time, patterns we grow familiar to and keep replicating because that’s our comfort zone. Walking on egg shells around an emotionally abusive parent, having to constantly suffer and compromise to earn a little bit of their affection as a reward once in a while amidst otherwise neglect. Our body starts to want to suffer as much as it can to receive that little bit of reward/love once in a while and then it becomes sort of like a game, where you get a reward once in a while but all of your happiness/serotonin gets associated with that once in a lifetime expression of love. But this is not healthy. Especially when we end up seeking romantic partners and friends with whom we can replicate the same pattern. And slipping into this pattern doesn’t even feel that difficult at first, because this is very very familiar to us, almost feels comfortable. Being usually neglected, experiencing their unexpected and unpredictable withdrawal, always watching for their mood, going through weeks and weeks of neglect to have that one moment of love all feel very familiar and again, the body starts feeling the serotonin when they do reward once in a while. Ideas of happiness/love are often associated with how much serotonin the body feels/produced. We keep coming back for it. Their withdrawal feels overwhelmingly painful because this pattern of loving is very very close to an unhealthy addiction. This is love, sure. But is it healthy, no. Not only is their neglectful and narcissistic love unhealthy but so is our way of loving. This attachment style is unhealthy for the lover and even the beloved because their abusive tendencies are validated and they get to practise them even more. Conversely, they receive serotonin with their sadistic tendencies; that’s literally how sadistic pleasure works. More so, it’s a power high. a living breathing ego boost. 

On the contrary, healthy forms of love and attachment can feel unfamiliar and overwhelming and even uncomfortable, because our body isn’t used to them at all. The body doesn’t know how to react to them. Secure love free of abuse and neglect can feel extremely unfamiliar which is why we might want to withdraw without knowing why because we logically know that kind of love is actually good for us. amongst other things, I really hope therapy, affirmations and constant effort in rewiring the body and its attachment style can help find a new familiar, otherwise it’s the same cycle over and over again. And when the body is stuck in an extremely abusive cycle and on survival/fight mode, it’s very difficult to have any kind of spiritual reflection and introspection either.

[truly-morgan]

Morgan simply rambling about their ocs part 1

So I got four likes on my post about rambling about my ocs, so that’s enough for me to do it anyway. I waited to talk about how they came to be and how they evolved (since many are from easily 8-9 years ago). They won't be in chronological order, mainly because it been too long for me to really remember that, but also all the original thing that could have helped me figure that out are now gone or have new date of creation. I can remember maybe who the 3-4 first are, but that's as far as my memories go.

I'd love to go over what design they went through, but tumblr wouldn't allow me to do that, so I suppose I'll do that on a later time.

They were, for a large part of them, meant to be used for rp (boy do I miss doing those), a lot of the other just growing around them as side characters and world building. So I'll most likely go over those that were originally meant to be used in rp, since the other characters came much more later and have obviously less development.

Anyway, hope y'all love this long post about my ocs.

Jack Auchter (previously Jack Miller)

First original character I ever made (meaning: not a naruto/my candy love oc), it was actually my brother’s character in a way, as I created him out of his suggestion. It is to say, he has change a lot.

He started as a lone ex-secret-military guy, trying to go back to a normal life despite his violent past, with some hint of losing someone before. I had created him as being seen like an horrible monster by the villager living close to were their base was and him just ending up quitting at some point. That whole secret military was a rather vague idea (I still have to work on that even).

Then he grew into becoming a more friendly characters. Really kind to people, ready and wanting to help anyone. This is where I implanted the whole reason why he got out of it, basically after losing his two best friends, blaming himself for what happened.

Now he is still a pretty gentle young man, wanting to help people the best he can, keeping a lot to himself as he tries his best to just live a normal life, as normal as it can be with all the nightmares and old habit. He still blames himself for not being able to save Yannis and Matthew, (where I also decided to work more on these two)

I cannot remember all the little changes, but he slowly grew throughout the years and it funny to look back at how much more depth he has now.

Evan & Ethan Matsui (+kuro) (previously Tatsuya and Tenbatsu)

I am 90% sure they are the “second” characters I created. They were inspired from two thing: twins oc a friend I had at the time had + Fruit Basket, or more specifically the cat zodiac part (for those who know).

Surprisingly they didn't changed too much, the demon is the one who did the most in a way. They were twins from a family stuck with a demon, needing a vessel to keep him “harmless”. The tradition was a weird “the purest and sweetest heart must be used, to 'appease' the demon”, and Ethan was just that. Evan begged to take his place because he sneak to see what the old vessel was like and saw how it would destroy the joyful person his brother was. So Evan ends up being the one stuck with Kuro, Ethan never leaving his side and wanting to protect him from the demon. Evan grows to be a rather solitary man, trying to stay away from people as much as people, only letting his brother close, despite scared that the demon would us him to get to Evan. Ethan grew to be a loving young man, doing his best to protect his brother.

They didn't changed too much, I most likely made them to be even closer, looking after each other and pretty dependant from on another. I added a little more depth and story around the curse, making it more logical, but also making the reason behind they close bond better.

Like I said, Kuro is the one who changed the most. At first he was an entity simply wanting to kill and be violent, trying to harm Ethan just so he could make an opportunity to take over Evan's body. Then he became this demon who's annoying Evan 24/7, trying to steal his body, but less by using Ethan as a mean to do so.

Now Kuro has grown to be this demon who once wanted to us Ethan as a pawn to his taking over the body, but ended up growing found of the young man (because of him also showing kindness to him despite it all). He's as much of an ass to Evan, having for objective to take over the body at some point, but not as much. The two even sometime agree to switch if its about a difficult situation Evan couldn't deal with.

So it pretty much went from the twins being against the demon, to the three of them having a weird relationship, not quit enemies, but not quit 100% trusting either.

Haru Sasaki

Of course, I just HAD to create a bad boy at the time. Of course I needed one. Haru's characters as changed a lot, but to be have more detail added to him and not to only be a bad boy.

He started as a teenager who became such a violent kid because that's what people expected from him. He hated and was hated by his mother because she had him at 17 (and kinda fucked over her life plan). And he was a loving brother. That was pretty much it, a kid missing his dad, who was violent and got into fight all the time, with no friend and love his sister a lot.

Then I decided to had in his hobby cooking, making him a great cook. That was a genius idea I had, because it became an important part of his characters and a goal I could give him (good job me).

Then I decided to had two other little delinquent to follow him around. At first I wrote it more as him letting them stick around out of just not being able to get ride of them, to changing it to him slowly warming up to them and taking care of them too since they aren't bad kid. Lets not forget him working in a flower shop with a sweet lady seeing the good in him.

Now this is what Haru is: someone who grew up with the expectation to become someone violent who cause trouble (he does, a lot), but who is actually really kind and a very protective brother, who aspire to be a cook on day with the encouragement of his sister, with two idiots for friend (but who just need some love too).

(note: also, somewhere towards the start of my rp with him, I made cherry his favourite aliment. Dunno how it became like this, I was often using this as his snack and it just... somehow became his whole thing. Cherries.)

Akainu Fuyuda & Kyosuke Hamada

They were probably created in similar times, as they pretty much go hand in hands.

Kyosuke started as a test subject who was there since he was born because of his telekinesis power, and Akainu was one of the nurse helping take care of him. I had made Kyosuke to be much more prone to have his sanity snap and want to kill people, where Akainu was a rather sadistic man with little to no regards to his test subjects. Their relationship was based on a mixed of interested for his art and power (for Akainu) and hate mixed with some want to absolutely annoy the shit out of the scientist (for Kyosuke).

Akainu is the one who changed to most, going from the sadistic and uncaring scientist for one who take care of his test subject as best as he can, who can't get along with his colleague (other than two) and who is overworked (an absolute workaholic also). Kyosuke is less of a wild one as he was, still an annoying little shit, but less in the “sanity goes bye bye” kind of way. He's tired of being tested one, but a routine as settle between them and Akainu tries to make it less bad. He will sometime snap if pushed pass his limits or when thing just get way too overwhelming, as a defensive mechanism.

Their relationship became less of a “I want to study/kill you” and more of a “We are both tired of this, but at this point it too late to change anything, but i'll still annoy the shit outta you”. Honestly the only consistent theme as been Kyosuke's dad hatred towards him for the loss of his wife.

Not gonna lie, I wonder how it would feel to write Akainu as a more sadistic man again, I realised that only after taking a look back at older stuck I wrote with him,

Alexy Leblanc

Oh boy this one was me going ape shit in the sadistic department, like I was really hard and angsty one some characters, but Alex? You'd believe I hated him or something (despite me very much loving this character). (tw: mention of sexual, physical and emotional abuse, skip to next character if this is too sensible for you)

So Alexy started as having the absolute worst life. Being physically beaten by his dad and his classmate, also being sexually abused by those two group. Like, the world was against him and somehow the teacher never found out or just didn't gave a single shit about it.

For a long time I made his treatment just a little bit worst, then I calmed it down a bit for something “more possible” where he was just bullied at school, yet had the same treatment from his dad.

Then, about a year ago, I decided “boy would it be nice to start making him feel nice” and despite his story basically being the same, he ain't stuck in this endless teenager cycle and I'm finally making him grow and slowly heal from his trauma with the help of a friend.

The story around him is the one who changed the most, as his character always stayed a rather quiet young man who was scared to get close to people In fear of getting punish for it. The change in that character is more of adding growing to him rather than actual change in the core of who he is.

Am still unsure where all this dark part came from, I suppose I needed that one character, as people around me also had character with rather deep, hard and dark stories. Am really happy to finally work on making him slowly heal from that, I feel like now this is something I would find more interesting to work on, rather than nonstop angst and abuse.

Kadir & Tamir (previously Kira & Ryu)

Tamir was the first one I created, he was actually a random character I drew in class before also created Kadir as someone who wanted to kill him. Their dynamic was inspired from what I saw of Izaya and Shizuo relationship (note “I saw” since I haven't read or watched drrr yet). It was pretty much Kadir hating Tamir and wanting to capture him as a bounty hunter, where Tamir was a pickpocket who would always play around with him.

Tamir started as a sneaky pickpocket who didn't care about anything but having fun and annoying people. Kadir started as a bounty hunter with great strength and anger issue. That was pretty much what they were and their relationship was very much just one-sided hate while the other is playing with the other anger.

Tamir stayed rather similar, despite his background story slowly building up more and see what his power actually are. He's still the demon who likes to joke around, steal stuff and cause problem. I'd say these part just became a stronger part of him, since he was just a random doodle at first he was rather plain. Kadir is still easy to anger, but it way less of being angry all the time. He's less always on Kadir trail as he was before and does so mainly when they meet or when he feel like he could finally win over him. His background as also evolve a lot.

They have a sort of frenemy kind of relationship, where they always fight together but don't actually hate each other (or at least not like it was at the beginning of their relationship).

Micha & Cyrus (previously ??? & Kiyoshi)

Micha is basically what happen when you give up another character and use their trope to create another one. I had a fallen angel before, but never actually did anything with it, so I created Micha.

He changed a lot over the time. He was first rather plain, being the owner of a bar somewhere (don't ask where, am as uninformed as you on that). Polite to client, yet distant about who he was with a vague past about how he became a fallen angel and why he didn't like heaven (basically being to what an angel is supposed to look like and being pushed aside a lot, he decided to do his best to get kicked out but not kill).

Then I gave him more depth, also throwing at him Cyrus, an amnesic angel who didn't remember who he was. Micha was then a little more friendlier, still not getting close to people, but still ready to help the people in the village he settled in. Cyrus was created as a very innocent and naïve characters (due to his amnesia), down to his design being rather innocent and cinnabun-ish.

Then in more recent time, Micha personality is pretty similar, but I also changed a little bit what his reason to be a fallen angel is (will be touch a little more if I finish my animatic :'D). He's more invested in the little village he settled in, rather found of the humans there. Cyrus changed a little more. He is a little less of a pure baby who's extra naïve and innocent. He's still rather naïve by time and clueless on some thing, but less child-like (even his design became a little more mature as an attempt to clash a little with his personality). Still a very kind and loving person tho.

Their relationship pretty much stayed the same, as Micha is still taking care of him and protecting him of potential danger as he did in the past.

Frederick Wilson (previously Frédéric ???)

Fred is also a rather old character of mine, yet his characters is somewhere between changed and not changed?!?

He started as a playboy who don't give a shit about people feeling, sleeping around a lot and legit every night in bars. That was the biggest part of his personality.

He is still playboy, love to party, drink and sleep around, but even if he still don't look for long term relationship, his less on the cruel “Am not making it clear, but it also your fault for getting your hopes up” and more on the “Yeah, no, am just looking for sex”. At least he's more honest on that point, still not a a good boyfriend, as he never take it seriously, only goes along for some times. Part of his motivation is not to follow in the step of his father and brother, who are men that don't take responsibilities and pretty much don't seem to care about people's feelings.

It shows better when I write him with his best friend, he's not as much of an ass as he seems to be.

Stanley Murphy (previously Shinji ???)

I'd like to say Stanley didn't change much, but it not exactly true? He was at first a young man who works as a waiter to show you can live just as well without high studies (I wasn't too much into the idea of “you much go to university to have a good life”). A good working young man, helping people when he can a living happily with his cat.

Somewhere along the line I made Frederick and Stanley to be best friends, don't ask how or why it came to be despite being rather different from one another, it just did and now I cannot separate them.

Stanley slowly grew to be the son of a rather wealthy family who had too much being pushed on him and part of what he decided was partly to rebel against his family, but also because he didn't actually had any goal in life. He's still a very hard working person, really loving of those who get to be close to him and who tries to live a good life. He's probably even one of the reason why Frederick didn't became an absolute garbage man.

Samuel Roy

Samuel is a cold hearted hitman, who became one rather young too. I feel like most of his characters just became the same, but push the button for more.

Insomniac, caffeinomane, misanthrope, don't really care who the target is (unless it's a kid, see later for Mike), live a lot day by day and knows he will most likely not die a painless and happy death.

That's the whole essence of Samuel, most of these were there when I first created him, I simply pushed some of those to an extreme. I still need to better his background story and how he ended up being a hitman.

I also added a second person who managed to get close to him, Michael Drake, who's a good friend of him and also his doctor when he ends up hurt out of what he can deal with. They lost touch when Samuel suddenly disappear and it took a couple of years before he finally learned what his job was, but ended up not telling anyone else and acting as if not knowing most of the time, under the promise that Samuel would never do anything to a child.

Samuel is a character I played a lot, but also one I really enjoy playing for some reason (There are a couple of character I really like playing).

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Damn I did only 14 characters, yet I have so many more (but a couple o those “didn't changed”, or at least not enough for really doing a part). I feel like this rambling didn't showed much how they changed, but I know they did (but mostly because am the god who created them).

Welp, hope y'all did understood my rambling, don't be shy and ask me anything if you are curious for more, my inbox is open for that.