#and sure her illness and suffering are over.

[hiemaldesirae]

Okay, so everyone is all cursed cat Alastor *hates* Vox...but what if It absolutely ADORES Vox? What if it's just like Alastor's Shadow, and it holds ALL of the emotions Alastor won't show? So it's ALL over Vox? Vox can't get a moment alone, cursed cat!Alastor is ALWAYS with him. Following him, loving on him. Only allows Vox to pet him...attacks regular Alastor when he attacks Vox, actually *defeating him.* (Alastor hates that Cat. And is ridiculously jealous.)

oh i endorse this 100%. i wrote a little snippet for it even LMFAO

it gets a tad long so ill leave it under the cut. it is mostly word vomit but . you know.. hopefully u guys enjoy :)

"We should really consider just putting the poor thing out of its misery," Alastor shoots a glare at the curled up lump on the carpet, its foaming mouth bound with rope, even as it chews furiously at its restraints. "Why, if we didn't, we would be violating our own 'no pets' policy!"

"Alastor..." Charlie frowns at her hotelier, before chancing a hesitant glance back at the creature. "Look, no one's perfect, right? Can't we try giving the cat a chance, at least?"

The other residents in the room- Angel, Husk, Vaggie, and even Lucifer himself- all give her blank eyed stares, Angel and Husk in particular rolling up their sleeves to show off the long, deep gouges in their arms.

"Charlie, honey, I think I speak for everyone here when I say you should just let Alastor get rid of it," Vaggie grimaces. "I know you love animals and all, but that- *thing* isn't safe to be around."

"What? Come on, it's sweet!" Charlie turns around, her back to the creature as she motions to it, completely unawares of the furry animal finally chewing through the final bit of rope as it lunges for her, much to the horror of the other hotel inhabitants.

An hour later, Alastor finds himself and his shadow traversing the streets of Pentagram City with the creature held securely in his shadow's grip. "Hmm... so, then, where should we dispose of this little pest? Ah, I have an idea."

He snaps his fingers and in a moment, reappears in a cloud of black, smokey shadow- right in front of the Vee's tower. With a swift motion to his shadow attendant, his doppelganger releases the cat-like creature from its claws, the feral little creature immediately charging the doors of the tower once it's let free. Alastor barely manages to hold back a snort before he once more steps back into the shadows- tomorrow, he'd check back again and see how it was going for Vox. With any luck, the results would be entertaining.

Vox gets the notification in the middle of a meeting. It takes merely the wave of his hand to dismiss the investors and step out, rolling his eyes as he prepares to deal with Val or Vel's shit again for the twentieth time today.

"What is it now...?" He frowns down at his phone, before noticing his assistant's contact on the phone. "Dei? What is it? Did something happen to Lis?"

"Uh, no, it's not anything like that, Sir," the aquatic sinner responds nervously. "Though, um... well, we have a little bit of an emergency, kind of. Not... really, since it's mostly under control now, but we lost a few employees in the scuffle--"

"Just tell me what happened," Vox heaves a long suffering sigh as he presses a claw to his screen, ready to send out apology gift baskets to HR again.

"Um. Well, there is a... Populis calls it a cat, but I'm quite sure it's not any sort of 'typical' animal at all, especially since it has antlers and a monocle... anyway. There's this... *creature* just kind of running around on the main floor, and it took out about five workers before Baxter managed to subdue it."

Vox blinks once, then twice, and then sighs again. "I swear to fucking God- okay, go and contact HR so they can get you all tested for rabies or whatever the fuck it is down in Hell, and I'll come to deal with the fucking cat thing."

"Yes, sir," Dei replies dutifully before the line goes dead. Vox groans before schooling himself and his expression and disappearing into a flash and electric current, teleporting all the way down to the first floor of the Vee's tower.

"S-sir!" Papermint comes running toward him first, looking worried. "Um... so, uh, when Dei went to get the cat creature, it sort of attacked him too--"

"For fucks sake, do none of you know how to do your job properly?" Vox pinches his screen again, thoroughly done. It was fucking Tuesday and he was already hoping for the end of the week. Get rich and famous, they told you. It'll be fun, they told you. Fun his fucking ass-- he has to spend his morning sitting through investment meetings and now, having to deal with a rabid Hell animal and the fact that it was mowing down his workers like some sort of demented lawnmower. Fucking great, just what he needed.

He stomps into the main hallway with the little eel sinner trailing awkwardly behind him, eyes widening in surprise as he takes in the scene before him.

On the ground, his main assistants Dei and Populis grapple with a tiny red animal.

It... looks somewhat like a cat, if a cat had an unholy union with whatever kind of deer Alastor was. And it also had a monocle, and was foaming at the mouth (yeah, definitely rabies), while his tech administrator Baxter stood to the side and watched with a bucketful of popcorn in hand. Logi, possibly the only normal sinner he had under his employment, was trying her damnednest to pull the cat- who, by the way, was winning the fight with BOTH his assistants- off of Dei, whose ear was currently in its mouth.

"I really need a drink," Vox groans before he rolls his sleeves up and walks forwards into the fray, the air around him crackling with static electricity as he intends to separate the fighters, whether with force or not- but to his surprise, he doesn't need to use any force at all.

Instead, when the little cat creature sees him, its eyes light up before it lets go of Dei's ear, the manta ray sinner letting out a groan of relief before collapsing onto the floor, the other assistants rushing to help him up. The cat, on the other hand, leaps up at Vox, who instinctively catches it in his arms. It purrs as it rubs against him, seemingly no longer hostile towards any of the other sinners in the room.

Vox stares down at the cat. It stares up at him, then grins.

It's... kind of cute, actually. In a really weird, freaky way.

"Uh... boss?" Baxter raises an eyebrow as he looks at the cat held securely in Vox's arms, then at the gaggle of sinners trying to make sure that Dei doesn't bleed out. "You gonna help, or...?"

Vox rolls his eyes before he sends a bolt of electricity over at the sinner and burns the bite, effectively cauterizing and closing the wound. "I'll have HR deal with it and get Dei a week's worth of paid recovery. Any more than that and I'm not covering it. You guys just get back to work after the cleanup crew comes, got it?"

He sighs down at the creature in his arms as he walks out of the main lobby, frowning to himself. "What am I going to do with you...? I've got a fitting with Dorian later, and he's *definitely* not gonna allow you in... and what the hell do you even eat, anyway? Better not be my workers- and oh dear god, I've got Vark, too, I can't believe I forgot about him-"

Still, even as he grumbles to himself, Vox can't help but recognize the truth: no matter what difficulties this little shit brings him, he's definitely keeping it.

A week's worth of time passes before Alastor finally finds some free time to go off and take a look at how his *esteemed* rival has been doing. He's half expecting half the Entertainment District to be destroyed by the time he returns, but there's nothing of the sort. In fact, business seems to be going about as usual... but then again, this may be one more of the TV demon's methods of avoidance. Vox *was* always a good actor, after all-- even if his own life was falling apart, he would never let that show.

So with that reassurance settled in himself, Alastor decides to take a risky move and get in closer range to his target- he slips into the shadows surrounding the crowd of reporters gathering around the ground floor of the Vee's Tower, clamouring for the chance to see the Media Overlord in the flesh.

Strangely, they all seem more chatty today-- Alastor didn't recall any sort of holiday being today, so it seemed that there was more information to be heard... and *that* was surprising, the revelation that something interesting may have happened while he was gone. Was it perhaps because of the hellspawn he'd dropped off a week earlier?

His question is answered not even a moment later, when Vox steps out of the doors, a confident grin on his face and a small, hissing red creature draped around his neck like a scarf.

Alastor's eye twitches.

Did he *keep* the damned thing? And why the *fuck* was he absentmindedly petting its fucking ears?! *That should have been him!*

#ran rambles #hazbin hotel #general asks #radiostatic #chai writes #snuck a few ocs in there hehe #cursed cat alastor

[soldier-poet-king]

Sometimes I think I'm really emotionally intuitive and other times, like today, I'm literally the stupidest person on earth.

Am exhausted from sudden travel for unexpected funera. Have not slept nearly enough the last few days. Am staying with my father's family which means zillions of relatives I barely know or outright dislike, trying to follow conversation in a dialect I don't understand, or else standing awkwardly in the doorways. Basically just my one cousin who deigns to speak English to me, plus her 6 month old and the puppy. The food is terrible I haven't seen a vegetable in 3 days. Have been running the funeral home/wake/funeral mass/cemetery rounds for the last 2 days and while my grief isn't as severe given we weren't close, it's still a horrible tragic death, there's a crying motherless 5 yr old, and I'm surrounded by people grieving in an already EXTREMELY messy family situation. My dad's cousin has managed to make fatphobic and homophobic jokes within 24 hrs. Also the Casual Racism of this entire branch of the family. Missing work unpaid, job interview prep, my fkin artist hasn't gotten back to me abt my tattoos.

Also me. Hey I wonder why I'm so on edge and exhausted???? A mystery I'll never solve

#the duality of fran #literally i just want to go to bed #my OWN brd #with PROPER FOOD. VEGETABLES. A FRUIT EVEN #not just meat fish potatoes #IM SURVIVING ON BREAD AND BUTTER which is delicious but also #my body cannot eat just bread im gonna fuckin die #and the near constant headache between bouts of crying like #i also got roped into serving the funeral mass bc the family are not regular church goers #so my dumb ass who doenst even Know the french mass parts #was better equipped to serve #which. fine. but like. im HANGING ON BY A THREAD #and i have to be here to manage my father's emotions #instead of grieving in my own way. which sure #maybe its not dramatic given my cousin and i werent close #but she was young. it was horrible and tragic. and sudden. #and sure her illness and suffering are over. #but i still think i should be allowed to be moody

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#*problems occur on a project multiple ppl r working on* my boss @ me: what do u wanna do? #me. disastrously burnt out: i couldnt not even to give a fuck abt all this. i dont care i dont care i dont care #but thats not what i say. i say ok ill talk to the ppl and see how i can drop everything to help. and that probably means driving an hour #away to the other uni which is irrationally terrifying to me to the point where it will probably destroy my whole week a prevent me from #sleeping when i already am struggling to sleep. but its fine. ill get it done and itll be fine. for this stupid fucking project i dont #care abt. ay its so weird. ive never been this angry abt things. i mean its not even really anger its more dispair and frustration but it #manifests as just wanting to scream and throw a fit like a toddler. and i mean its my fault. i dont have to live the way that i do. i mean #i do but in an irrational compulsive way that i cant entirely control. but like its Saturday and i sepent 6 and a half hours taking #measurements and then met with my boss for like an hour and she was showing me cool imagines and talking abt cool new collaborators at her #new school and im just sitting there trying to maintain a smile bc my brain is semi disconnected from my body and im so exhausted #ugh. my brain is so fucked rn. i dont want to drive with even lower functioning thsn usual. and i was gonna meet my friend Tuesday morning #for once. and i might have to drive back and forth multiple days. ans what's my reward if were successful? two fucking weeks of watering #and measurement taking and i might have to stand around other ppl in all that time as well. usually im off spinning in circles by myself #amd looking unapproachable. i dont want to have to b a person around the undergrads #god im so weird. its like from the outside perspective if u were looking thru the window at me u would see me using a hammer and assume im #putting something together and i am but im also hammering nails thru my hand which no one asked me to do #so then why do i have to do it? ugh. thats y its a hard thing to complain abt bc ppl r like oh it sounds like ur compulsive habbits make u #productive and successful and yea sure but they're also destroying my life. im laying on the floor doubled over in pain and ppl r like oh #look how useful u r. who gives a fuck everything feels stretched and distorted like im suffering some sort of selfimposed Devin punishment #whatever. fuck this. tomorrow ill try my hardest to relax. literally i cant remember the last time i stayed in bed until at least 7am. ugh #but i also have some bullshit i have to get done tomorrow so well see #uuuuuugh let me leave this place @ schools send me ur official offers pls i wanna plan out my life for the next 5yrs #unrelated

[enbesbians]

anon had requested:

‘ABBY MAKING YOU SQUIRT’

this is a repost.

if there's anything you want to request in regards to headcannons, send them my way and ill try my best to appease.

as always, i can't fucking type for my life and i don't proofread... so if there's fuck ups and im pretty sure there's a lot... pay no mind to them.

• one thing i want to talk about is the first time abby would make you squirt. it was purely accidental. you already love her fingers and how they stretch you out better than your own. she's the type of girl who has a specific way of doing things while also trying something new - so when she'd curl her fingers inside of you, she'll twist them in different ways to find that spot feels the absolute best. while doing so, you had thought you had a few more moments until you'd react your orgasm, you felt it build slowly and you announced that you were almost there but abruptly it all hit you at once, your cunt clenching so tightly her fingers slip out and there you were, squirting all over her lap. she'd be so dumbfounded to even react, watching your cunt beat at every orgasm pulse, feeling her pants just expand in wetness.

• when giving head, i can see abby as a tongue fucker. her two fingers rolling against your clit rhythmically, bobbing her head to get you there. she'd hum 'uh huh' against your pussy, hearing that you were close. as you'd squirt, she'd latch her lips over your opening, letting it fill her mouth with some running from the small opening on the sides of her mouth, running down her chin, drinking you up, not stopping her stimulating movements on your clit.

• while using a strap, as you're squirting, she'd use the tip of the silicone, slapping it against your pussy, hearing how nasty and wet you are. she'd watch you erupt and shake, saying, "squirt on my cock baby." and, “fuck this pussy is so sexy... look at it squirt."

• while fucking you with your strap and you've already came and squirted who knows how many times, abby, at this point, would be so lost in the way your body reacts when overstimulated that she doesn't think twice of what she wants to do next, she acts on pure impulsivity. you'd start to squirt, pushing her strap out and she'd immediately put it back inside of you, hard, long pounds she'd give, with your squirt erupting each time her hips thrust outward. she'd say, "take my fucking dick... you nasty little slut.” through every thrust, eyes glued at your pussy.

• when she'd finger you, both sitting up with her leaned against the arm of the couch, legs open with you in between them, thighs spread on top of hers. her fingers lodged inside of you with her palm facing upwards, wrist tightening showing how strong her focus is being. her other hand would be placed on the back of your neck, making you watch yourself puddle all over the couch and hand. "watch that pussy squirt." and "listen to that wet fucking pussy...

• another is when you're laying on your back in bed, legs spread with her laying on her side. she has a vibrator on your clit, switching the speed settings whenever she'd notice your chest heave from quickening breaths. she'd edge you, not taking the toy off the bundle of nerves just to see you suffer. you'd ask her to cum over and over and she'd just straight up tell you no. "no... hold it baby" and you'd plead, telling her you can't take it and she'd just say, "im not stopping, show me that you can take it" and after some time, you'd be creaming on yourself, your legs unable to stay still a they violently shake. you'd squirt and she'd put the setting all the way to its highest setting- your back arching as your squirt spurts out, raining all over your body. she'd laugh at how big your orgasm was saying, “that’s my pretty girl."

• imagine tribbing with her. she'd let you go on top, pathetically rutting into her pussy, her egging you on and telling you how good you were making her feel. all those words when straight towards your orgasm and as you slam your pussy against yours, you'd see yourself squirting against her pussy, the droplets of your squirt falling everywhere. abby would be so overwhelmed and turned on that her hips would be fucking up into you saying, "oh my fucking god." over and over, practically yelling, "yes!"

bonus: abby squirting.

• she'd stand, you on your knees as she looks down on you, making you not touch her for something she didn't approve in which she's now punishing you for. she'd finger fuck herself, a white ring wrapping around her two fingers, creaming. as she finds herself needing to squirt, she'll push her hips towards you, leaning the top half of her body up and rapidly rub her clit as she squirts herself right on you.

all in all, i think abby is overly into squirting and the idea of it. that and creaming all over her lips, fingers and strap. she'd absolutely love seeing your cream just slide out from your cunt or your squirt erupt right in front of her. abby seems like she's just that dirty of a girl.

#lesbian #wlw #sapphic #abby tlou #abby anderson #the last of us #abby x y/n #abby x masc!reader #abby anderson the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby x fem!reader #abby smut #abby x reader #abby x you #abby x black reader

[kimis-gloves]

sour - charles leclerc

word count : 780 - oneshot

hehe a lil charlie smut>:)

warnings: morning sex, dirty talk, petnames, if you squint very hard then angst?? but not rlly, softdom!charles, slight degrading, post/pre shower sex.

as early in the morning as it was, you hear Charles turning on the shower, humming whatever song he has stuck in his head from the never ending party you two went to last night. through your raging headache, you miss the warmth of your boyfriend so you stumble your way into the connecting bathroom, still in his hoodie that you managed to change into at 4:30 in the morning. Charles, already in the shower, washing off the sticky champagne & sweat. Coming p2 in Australia was something to be proud of, but he didnt feel proud. he hoped to do better next time as he hears y/n stumble her way into the bathroom, quickly going for a pee before speaking to charles through the glass doors.

“Good morning charles, ill start us some coffee”

“Thank you my love”

as you head out to make charles his favourite way of coffee, he finishes his shower and steps out to dry himself off and thats when you walk back in, coffees in hand. he looks absolutely amazing like this. hes stood infront of the large window, in nothing but a towel. the water beading off of him and dripping out of his hair. you set down the coffees and make your way towards the drool worthy man thats infront of you. you wrap your arms around his shoulders as you leave soft and wet kisses along his jawline. already being in somewhat of a sour mood, charles doesn’t appreciate your teasing and takes things into his own hands as he quickly grabs you by your hips and bends you over the counter top, almost knocking off the now close to cold coffees.

“Char-“

“A-Ah, no talking cherie, just let me take care of you right now~”

and with that you did. quickly shutting up for him as you let the man take however much control he desired from you. you thank him for any type of touch that he gives you. he goes to quickly pull down your panties, when he realizes you dont even have any on.

“What a dirty girl you are cherie.. no panties and already dripping out of your cunt like this? My my, im not sure what i should do with such a whore like you.”

he aggressively puts a hold into your hair and pulls you up to be face close to charles, breathing rapidly as he whispers,

“dont move, dont make a sound or else you will regret it. listen as i say and you wont have to suffer, am i clear darling?”

“Yes c-Charles” you say with a whine

“Hm, i dont think i was” he mutters, slowly sliding his tip along your slick-coated pussy. you whine again when he quickly smacks the side of your thigh “No noise, slut” he growls before shoving his 2 fingers into your mouth, allowing you to lick and spit on them. pulling them out and away from your mouth he instead inserts them both into your cunt.

fighting back moans, you clench your walls around charles’ fingers, letting him know how much you want to be filled his his cock.

“mon amour you feel so good, i cant wait to fill you with my cum.” he grumbled into your ear as he finally inserts his cock into your aching cunt, he bottoms out with a low hum into your ear. he slowly grinds into your pussy, drawing out lewd sounds from both of you. both you and Charles have given up on trying to keep you quiet as he just gets completely lost into your body. he sets a firm & steady pace, nearly knocking you out as he suddenly slams into you, the noise that leaves both your and his mouth is something that belongs in a porno. he wraps around your torso, one hand grabbing and pinching onto your nipple and the other reaching down to your throbbing clit. the sudden sensation is enough to set you over and soon enough you find yourself cumming all over his cock and fingers, him quickly following after as the tight & wet feeling on his cock is just too good not to cum from.

slowly pulling out of you, he’s planting kisses all over your body. turning the shower back on as he guides you in, making sure the water is the perfect temperature and that you aren’t going to topple over.

“my love, i should probably go remake these coffees” Charles laughs, placing a kiss onto your temple. as you watch Charles put his clothes on and leave the bathroom, coffees in hand, you couldn’t be more thankful to have such a perfect boyfriend like him.

a/n: i hope u enjoyed❤️ this was just something small. likes & reblogs always appreciated ❤️❤️

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 x you #cl16 one shot #f1 one shot #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 smut #morning fuck #charles leclerc is irresistible #australia gp 2024 #charles is sour cus hes p2 #wah wah

[diordeer]

౨ৎ LOVER, YOU SHOULD’VE COME OVER [01]

“it's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter. it's never over, she is the tear that hangs inside my soul forever” - jeff buckley (smau)

↳ CHAPTER ONE PREV | NEXT

CONTAINS charlie bushnell x fem!reader CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR BOOK THREE, this is a bit shorter bc i cant do much drama in the comments considering they dont know eachover yet

DESCRIPTION reader plays as artemis in season 3 of percy jackson (can we pls pretend artemis is in an older body), and also does ballet .. there is no specific face claim but she is white with blonde hair

TAGLIST @amoreva @liviessun @reet8713 @m00ng4z3r @tortured-poets-depxrtment @izuoyarmin @perseus-jackass @poppyflower-22 @pleasingregulus @balletfilmss @bowerfeithwk @tomblythsslut @mysterioussmae @niktwazny303

Liked by leahsavajeffries, dior.n.goodjohn and others

yn.ln life rn 🩰

View all comments.

user1 did u guys see the percy series post??

↳ user2 omg shes playing artemis!!!!

user3 ur account is so pretty

↳ yn.ln 😘😘

user4 i cant wait for artemis and zöe they are my favs!

↳ user5 i dont think i will be able to deal with her death!

user6 omg AND ariana greenblatt?! we are getting fed!!

Liked by walker.scobell, iamcharliebushnell and others

Percyseries joining the cast of season 3 of ‘Percy Jackson & The Olympians’ are yn.ln and Ariana Greenblatt, as Artemis, and Zöe nightshade

Ln’s Artemis, the goddess of the hunt, is a daring and brave warriors who leads the group of her ‘Huntresses’.

Greenblatt’s Zöe Nightshade being one of those, as a loyal lieutenant. She is a determined, yet stubborn character, who leads the quest in saving Artemis.

tagged yn.ln, ariana_greenblatt

View all comments.

user1 OH MY GOD ?!?!

user2 the hunters of artemis are my roman empire

user3 the artemis and zöe we deserve!!

dior.n.goodjohn excitiinggggg

Direct Messages:

Dior: heyy yn!

You: hi!

Dior: i was just wondering if u wanted to meet up with a few of us before filming? Like to meet eachover ☺️

You: omg obviously!! When?

Dior: maybe this weekend? Its not everyone, like just me, charlie, walker, and aryan, i think leahs busy not sure tho 😞

You: alr!! Ill check if im free!

Liked by iamcharliebushnell, leahsavajeffries and others

yn.ln had so much fun meeting everyone 😋

View all comments.

aryansimhadri THAT MUG OF ME?! UNCALLED FOR!

↳ yn.ln you posed for it… all i did was post 🤷‍♀️

leahsavajeffries i cant believe i couldnt make it!! argh im so upset, i have to meet up with u soon!

↳ yn.ln ikkk 😖 give me a date and time ill come at ur will

user1 how is luke still alive this man is invincible

↳ user2 are we complaining tho 🤷‍♀️ like anything for more charlie screen time lets be real

dior.n.goodjohn already missing u 😖

↳ yn.ln im suffering withdrawal!

walker.scobell that food was banging

↳ aryansimhadri i want it again NOW!

user3 i love how she just met them and they already seem so close

↳ yn.ln who said that? I literally hate them all

↳ iamcharliebushnell yeah this girl is the bane of my existence, i saw her and instantly knew i didnt like her

↳ user3 exactly my point!

#charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #smau #social media au #aesthetic #charlie bushnell #in the know #x reader #artemis #ariana greenblatt

[missmonsters2]

🥶

WandaNat

Pairing: WandaNat x Fem!Reader

Warnings: awkward!reader. clint slander. WandaNat no mercy.

Note: i miss them

Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: 999 (🧍‍♀️)

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

This was your worst nightmare—trapped between the bodies of two incredibly hot, kind, and funny women. 

And no, it wasn't in the sexy way—your brain refused to even let you go down that route. You'd implode at even the slightest thought of it. 

This was Clint's fault, you quietly seethed, plotting his gruesome murder that could later be turned into a true crime podcast. Laura will have to be a widowed single mother, and the children will have to grow up fatherless, but surely it was for the best. 

"Come down to visit us!" Clint said to you, your mind mimicking his voice unflatteringly. "It's been way too long since you guys came to stay with us."

It was a normal occurrence; you thought nothing of it. You, Wanda, and Natasha often went to stay with Clint and his family quarterly. Natasha visited more with her girlfriend, Wanda, and they invited you every time, but you settled that four times a year was enough. 

It was usually fun, and the time spent was enjoyable, so you really had thought nothing about it.

Until Clint decided he was actually the incarnate of the devil and condemned you for some undisclosed sin. 

"Oh, you three are cool sharing a room, right? The other spare bedroom is under renovation. I mean, one of you can take the couch but I highly don't recommend it with what the kids have spilled on it over the years."

No, it wasn't okay, you wanted to say at the time, but Wanda and Natasha nonchalantly waved Clint off and told him it was fine, and the conversation breezed on, never to be returned to again. 

Why would he invite all three of you if there wasn't enough space!? You tried to tell Wanda and Natasha that you could drive to the nearest hotel at night, but they looked at you strangely and asked if you hated them. It was jokingly, but you could hear a tinge of hurt in their voice, which silenced you from offering to leave again. 

But now you were suffering. 

The bed was way too small for three people but left enough room for just a couple of inches to keep you from coming into skin-to-skin contact with either redhead.

You stared at the ceiling, despite being unable to make out any details of the room in the darkness. 

Why the fuck were you in the middle?

You should've been on the edge. At least then, you could hang half your body off it to keep some distance. 

You started at the edge of the bed—make no mistake. But then Natasha came to your side and asked you to scootch over. You assumed she preferred sleeping on the right side, so you started to make your way down to the other side. But then, to your horror, Wanda climbed in from the other end, effectively trapping you in the middle. 

The words were caught in your throat as you tried to force them out and ask if you could have the edge, but Natasha and Wanda mumbled their goodnights before promptly falling asleep. 

This was unacceptable; you mentally cried. This was—weird. You know that Wanda and Natasha have been together for ages, and they probably didn't care, but it was strange to be in the middle of them like this. You're way too awkward for this. 

It brought up the unwanted feelings you've been trying to get rid of for months. 

The worst part was that it was winter, and this room was so fucking cold. Was Clint going through financial hardship? Why isn't there any heat in this room?

You wished him ill, you wished him ill, you wished bad things upon Clint Barton. 

You shifted, trying to pull the blanket up higher and shrink yourself to retain some of the heat. You turned on your side, facing Wanda's back, and frowned. You could practically feel the heat radiating off her and wanted to scoot away from her. But you couldn't. You'd scoot right into Natasha, who was also radiating heat as she faced your back.

At this moment, you hated them for being so unaware of their temptations. 

You swallowed. Moving a little closer to Wanda wouldn't be too bad, right? Just to steal a bit more of her warmth, so you could fall asleep and wake up early to get out of bed. 

You scooted a little closer, your nose just inches away from her back since there wasn't much wiggle room. Her heat emitted off her like a goddamn fireplace, and you sighed a little at the warmth on your nose and the parts of your cheeks. 

It was still pretty cold, and you shivered a little. 

Your movement seemed to wake Wanda as she lifted her head to look around at you. You looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Turning back, Wanda lay her head back down and shut her eyes with a yawn. 

You started to scoot back to where you were, but Wanda grabbed your wrist from under the blanket and pulled it over her waist as she shuffled back into you.

The warmth pressed against your front jolted you, and you were stiff, despite how good it felt. 

"любимая, she's cold," Wanda mumbled in the dark as she threaded her fingers through yours.

Wanda was clearly speaking to Natasha because the redhead behind you shifted and moved closer until she was pressed against your back snuggly. Her arms wrapped around your midsection as she tangled her legs through yours. 

You wanted to die. 

You wanted to kill Clint Barton and then run into oncoming traffic. 

"Um," you croaked. 

"Is this better?" Natasha mumbled sleepily, and she was so close you felt her lips move against your shoulder. 

No.

Yes.

No.

"Uh," you dragged out before finally deciding with an awkward stiff, "Yes."

It was warm—almost too warm now. You closed your eyes with a silent groan. 

You weren't getting any sleep tonight.

#wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff x you #wandanat x you #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #natasha romanoff fluff #mm: my fics #mm.drabble.wandanat

[eliotbaum]

Them³. 

Some people expressed interest in the backstories & relationship between these characters so it’s under a cut. Beware, it’s full of Vallaki spoilers and. very long……. 

Lydia Petrovna/Fiona Wachter/my pc Father Dunant

Alright so, a not-so brief overview of each individual’s background and where their stories meet. Mind you, that is everything I currently know about the characters, and I'm pretty sure Lady W is still hiding something.

Lydia Petrovna has always been a frail, meek-hearted woman, but with a kind soul. For what she lacked, her best friend from ever since made up for it; Fiona Wachter was everything she ever wanted to be. Strong, assertive and with force of will. 

But Lydia also desired her in a different way, one that went beyond friendship and admiration. Fiona was not aware of those feelings and pursued Nikolai, while Lydia fell for Vargas, despite Fiona’s warnings and wishes for her not to do so. It fell on deaf ears, as Vargas seemed like a genuinely kind man. Suffice to say to those who played the game: the good qualities Lydia loved disappeared over time and he ended up emotionally abusing her, smothering her in a way where she completely lost who she was. Lydia was always desperate to help others despite her constitution and lack of powers or influence, so she thought putting on a bright face and encouraging the "all will be well" ideology would suffice. But she suffered greatly under it, too, coping with solitude and drug/alcohol abuse. Regardless, she kept holding onto hope, believing a better tomorrow will come one day. 

Vargas growing more paranoid of everyone ended up manipulating Lydia into believing Fiona and her husband were not to be trusted. And with Lydia’s facade steadily replacing what Fiona loved about her, ultimately drove the friendship to a breaking point after decades.

Fiona Wachter received a prophecy from an oracle (Madame Eva) while she was a young lady. The prophecy foretold of an outsider coming into Vallaki to bring great ruin, but his blood would also bring back sunlight to the town. She believed in this prophecy ever since, all the while pledging allegiance to Ravenloft as a family tradition, which earned her conflicting powers. On one hand, she could perform miracles and harm with radiance, on the other she received darker powers from her pledge. As such, she is also caught between two fronts — wishing for sunlight to shine upon the lands again while serving Ravenloft as is her family tradition. (This is something my PC challenges her with a lot)

This was all kept secret from her best friend as Fiona had always been a cautious woman. Fast forward to her strained relationship with Lydia that broke apart during Nikolai's early death. 2 years before the campaign starts, he died of an illness, and when Fiona turned to Lydia for comfort she didn't receive it. Lydia pretended like everything was fine still, and tried to deflect any mourning or sadness with Vargas’ messed up ideology. Suffice to say, Fiona felt betrayed, bereft, in more ways than one. And then, her daughter, who was to be betrothed to Viktor Vallakovich, Lydia's son, went mad after prolonged contact to Viktor. Fiona went scorched earth and planned an assassination on Vargas ever since.

In comes my lil guy! Father Kasper Dunant, a humanitarian priest always striving to be virtuous, to be of help, but who leaves calamity in his wake for whenever he tries to do good. Up to a point where experimentations with blood healings destroyed his hometown, (if this sounds like Bloodborne. big inspo haha) and he fled — only to get trapped in another ruinous and cursed place. In Vallaki, he helped with the St. Andral church and Father Lucian, Lydia's brother. Vargas also took a liking to him, which resulted to Kasper and Lydia growing closer. He was attracted to her gentle heart, her kindness he found beyond her facade. They became light in each other's darkness. 

Meanwhile, Fiona Wachter invited him & the party, intrigued by hearing of outsiders. She had hoped they could be part of her prophecy, and she intended to more or less rope them into her assassination plans. Now this being conflicting with many values and relationships our characters built, the party took a "safer" angle, in which we removed the biggest threat (general Strazni) from town and saved townspeople during riots following the assassination; Lydia being among those saved, who they hid away at the Martikov’s tavern. Lydia, who had fallen for Kasper early on, held onto him as she had lost almost everything (Vargas assassinated, Viktor teleported away) and they both found new hope, comfort and love in eath other. 

And in a way, Fiona also freed Lydia of the shackles of her abusive marriage.

Fiona would've taken charge of Vallaki had it not been for Kasper's suggestion to establish a council instead of a single ruler. Consisting of him, Fiona, Vasili (completely different character in our game and not secretly, yknow), a homebrew NPC and Ireena. Fiona and Kasper started to develop this dynamic of push and pull, feeling for how much they can trust and work each other with their opposing views in terms of politics and Ravenloft. But they had one moment where they forged a bond; Kasper, a blood cleric, summoned a mock sun through 'Daylight' for her (my flavor is that he spills blood for some spells). 

Voila, exactly what her prophecy foretold. She understood it wasn't real, but Kasper promised her to bring true sunlight back to Barovia. In a moment of fervor, Fiona suggested they could rule the town, the country together.

They are still very cautious but enjoy the tension and mystery they have about each other. Lydia, in the meantime, has been growing conflicting feelings about Fiona. While she was certain old feelings have been put to rest, the things Kasper tells her of Fiona seemingly awakened something again. There's a lot of guilt and hurt there, though, muddled with affection, and Lydia is sorting out her feelings still.

Meanwhile, Fiona still resents Lydia for her weakness. It was always clear how much Fiona cared for Lydia, repeatedly challenging her to put down this mask, to be herself again. And being hurt by seeing her friend lose herself so easily.  It's bitter, but Kasper has been meekly trying to calm the waves, to little avail so far. 

It is, A Mess to say the least, and Kasper together with Lydia have been growing concerns and worry for Fiona’s safety and ultimately, herself, since she changed so much, became so much darker since her husband’s death. But those two idealists hope there is still a chance to save her 🥺💦

tl;dr young outsider priest becomes entangled in noblewomen’s personal drama while both believe the gods and fate has sent him their way as he tries to mend a broken relationship 

#curse of strahd #curse of strahd art #fiona wachter #lydia petrovna #kasper dunant #lydia vallakovich #if you managed to read all this #congrats and i love you #our dm puts a ton of work and thought into npc backstories and connections #bless em #i am so normal abt this game and npcs 🥴

[2kmps]

BED-REST IS BEST

howl pendragon x sick!reader | 2.1k

synopsis; while sophie and michael are away fetching you bone broth for your illness, howl decides to pay you a visit.

story warnings; sick!reader, howl is a pompous turd, book!howl-coded, interrupted kiss, roughly proofread, posted 2021.

Sophie supposed the malady came on the winds of spring, carrying with it all manner of sickness, unpleasantness, and turbid air just the thinnest tinge of green from particles of pollen. She herself felt the effects of the great thaw, the budding tulips of richest hue, and the haze that drew over head like a personal cloud of suffering all her own.

Of course, Old Sophie had a way of dramatizing, meanwhile simultaneously catastrophizing stuff, so you knew to listen to her words loosely, with a solemn nod that you also shared similarly in those feelings. To a lesser degree than her, you were already aware your forced bed-rest could be attributed to allergies.

Or, something else you considered, it could have been the number of sputtering children who yet not knew to duck their faces in a tissue or their arms; it could have been the last embrace you shared with your sickly aunt. It could have been so many things that you had to press the pads of your fingers into your temples to subdue the stab of a headache building beneath them.

“Michael and I are going to Market Square to get supplies and bone broth. That’ll whip you into shape in no time.” Sophie anchored her fists against the bulky layers of her skirt, nearly losing them from how deeply they sunk. “Don’t you dare think about moving until we get back, hear me?”

“What about customers?” you couldn’t say you were disappointed by her firm demand, though all the same it made you restless. Even in times where illness or injury got you down, rest eluded you like fine sand slithering through crevices in your fingers. “Howl went off and blew half our income on that- that, damn, what was it? Some kind of enchanted flute? The more customers we serve, the more we can stash away.”

Sophie’s nostrils widened while her shoulders sagged forward with her breath. Her eyes lost their hardness, ebbing into something far warmer, motherly, almost. As you shifted anxiously beneath the covers, she came back around and began tucking them under your body once again, sure to secure you tighter than before. In fact, you were so caught, so much in your cocoon that you only saw the gray ball of wadded hair pinned atop her head bounce as she rounded you.

“Just stay down you worrywart,” she sighed, heels tapping the floorboards in a collected gait. At your head, she was careful to fluff the feathers in your pillow. “Between us, I’ve been putting a bit aside here and there. Just enough so he can't go buy another one of those enchanted suits. I’d like to know the dealer he’s getting them from and have a word with them myself.”

Your lips curled up at the mention and, honestly, you believed she actually would. “Where is Howl, anyway? I thought he was around.”

“Good grief, I almost wish he wasn’t. He’s been banging around in his room for hours now.” Old Sophie threw her hand towards the adjacent wall, upper lip curling as she continued, “says a lot that you haven’t heard a lick of it.”

That was enough to get you to concede to her obstinacy, letting the weight of your head- suddenly a strain on your neck- fully rest atop of the pillow she had fixed. The more she talked about you needing to stay in bed, drink bone broth and saltines, the more you felt the lead in your limbs rooting you to the mattress and the world floating around you when you closed your eyes.

It was any guess to you when it was the moment Sophie slipped out of your room with that hobbled gait of hers. You had been vaguely aware of her giving your cushion a bit more lusciousness, and then warmth of her palm covering the space of your forehead, giving a fretful tongue click. Behind your heavy eyelids, your eyes floated after her tiny footfalls, but that at once made your bed feel like a boat crashing through cresting waves.

So, you finally resigned to your fate of her and Michael’s care, finally let the stone in your bones meld you into the bed like beige boulders sinking further into the earth and undergrowth with coming centuries.

The silence that surrounded you was enthralling, probably the only true amount of peace you had had in a long time, considering your days were often brimmed with mediating Sophie and Howl’s explosiveness, meanwhile, still cooking up meager spells and manning the business with Michael.

In your weariness and delirium, a thought crossed your mind in a drawl: what about Calcifer, did he need more wood? You anticipated his voice bursting out soon, imploring attention in any number of ways. What of the front door? You expected a knock to come soon, and then another, and another, and perhaps a dozen more. That was money well needed.

What of Sophie? Your thoughts continued. Would she need you to help with scrubbing the floors? Maybe she wanted to give you a knitting lesson later, or expand on her tutelage of weaving hats.

Oh, and Howl—

God, how could you forget Howl? The man felt like a job all on its own. 

Surely he intended to go out again and woo many of the loveliest in Market Chipping, or hell, maybe he’d move the castle somewhere else for the night to do that. You expected him to hunt you down, throw open your door, barge through the threshold with his hair aflutter and eagerness in his eyes—where did you and Miss Nose stash his suits? His guitar wasn’t where he left it, where was it? Neither of you meddled with the charm over his door, right?

As it turned out, you mumbled in your sleep, or at least in your discombobulated state. Your head rustled the feather pillow, lolling to one side and then the other as sweat prickled your forehead in cold beads. Behind your eyelids, Sophie’s nimble and darkly spotted hands worked on a suit, meanwhile Michael was ran ragged around the castle to try to fulfill orders, Calcifer bellowed for attention and eggs and bacon, and Howl’s hair whipped up in the breeze as he spun round and round with another lovely.

Your entire face twitched when a large hand smoothed across the top of your head, a damp weight of something laid spread across your forward, unpleasant and clammy unlike Sophie’s warm hand. “Hey. Don’t take the newt from the shelf, it’ll get on the floor.”

Howl gave a bemused smile that took a while to dissipate. You continued to babble incoherently here and there about things that didn't matter while the peaks of his knuckles simply rocked across your temple and cheek.

“I’ll keep that in mind. I pray that Sophie has made herself useful instead of sticking her nose in on us again.” He said with lightness in voice, peering across his shoulder towards the bolted doorway to be sure. “Good. She seems to think I only make you worse in these states. I would never.”

You were sure you were hearing his voice at this point, rousing you from the cluster in your head until your eyes fixed with his, wonderful and marble-like. They were softer than usual, glittering like the sea when the sun hung highest, making the water like a trove of dazzling treasure.

“Your eyes are amazing, Howell.” You whispered hoarsely, swallowing through the desert in your throat. “I don’t notice them enough.”

His smile took on something brighter, almost as though delighted you took notice of something that menial. “I would agree with you there! You can look as long as you’d like. Tell me more about it.”

“I think about us sometimes, Howell.” It was a strange feeling right now, the words you spoke were the first to float forward in your mind. You knew you were speaking garbled silliness, still you didn’t think better of it. “I remember college together, before we came to Ingary. I remember how you used to look before you… started doing the enchantment stuff. I feel like I’ve forgotten you.”

The lines in his lips were significantly deeper as they pulled down, his hand halted against your skin. It was either the thought that you felt such a disconnect from him, or the reminiscence of who he once was that brought the sullen look of his on. No longer was there a glitter of childish joy, but rather of anxiety, of concern.

“Nonsense. You’re talking nonsense just like Sophie and Calcifer.” He moved closer to you on the bed, rolling your arm from its spot as the mattress bent. Next, the pillow cradling your head flattened, his hands cuffed into the thick fabric as he leaned across you, your eyes only able to see him. “I… I’m still here. I have not left you, I wouldn’t entertain the thought. Didn’t I tell you that wherever I’d go from here on out, you would have to be right with me?”

You only wished he’d tell you such things in every other state of being, instead of during the peak of being bedridden. “I want to believe you, but in this world I am as ordinary as the hat makers and bakers. I’m replaceable. I wonder if that will happen one day.”

Noticeably distraught from the creases deepening around the corners of his mouth, and his eyes flitting wildly around your face as though in panic. He came down onto his elbows, caging you below him as his fear neared, his hot breath inches away.

“What makes you think I could ever replace you? Has someone put that bull into your head? Was it Calcifer—the pest? Was it a panderer we met the other day?” Now that he was so close to you, his voice had lowered and it rumbled. “Or, are you so sleep deprived, so loopy that you’re finally now telling me your heart?”

“Does it matter what I confess to you now?” you asked, pushing your head deeper into the feathers and farther from him. As you turned your face away, he shifted to gently coax your chin forward with the daintiest touch of his fingertips. “I would be alone in that venture. In a matter of five, six, ten years—I’ll have all the age and lines you hate. I’m sure I’ll shrink even more.”

“You do realize we have someone in our house who already looks like that.” He said this jokingly, of course, but even in your fever, your hand shot up to pinch his arm. “H–Hey, stop! Furthermore, you’re making up stuff, who would be to say you’d be alone with your heart?”

The explanation to that was obvious, considering the whole business with Calcifer and the Witch, but you didn’t want to think about it. In fact, at any opportunity to steer your mind away from that debacle, you found it.

Once again, you tried to look away from him—both sleep was beginning to weigh on your bones more than what you imagine Howl would if he were to collapse, and away from the furor gleaming in his eyes. And once again, he pulled you back towards him.

“Sick as you are, I’d like to prove it to you.” It was an unusual thing to hear from him considering all his caution with appearance and health. You wondered if he was desperate to alleviate your distrust. “Why are you looking at me like that? Close your eyes—yeah, I would rather not risk your germs, but some things can’t be helped.”

You weren’t sure if your eyes slid shut from gravity, or from some sort of internal desire for him to do this. Either way, his hand returned adjacent to the other near your hair, tugging slightly at the strands and his breath came so close you felt it tremble against your lips.

And then, all at once, his breath snagged in his throat as the door was thrown open, bouncing off the wall with such force it vibrated. In waddled Old Sophie, arms conveniently free of anything other than an old wood broom with long, spidery bristles that she held aloft across her shoulder, eyes blazing and the most malicious you had ever seen them.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone with this dog! This cretin, vile imbecile! This complete, utterly hopeless dolt!” She screeched, the layers of her dress billowed behind her as she started into the room as fast as her creaky old limbs could. “Get out, get out, get out! Away with you, you absolute user! Away! Away! Away! Begone!”

Howl yelped in surprise as the tiny old lady swung the broom with enough ferocity for you to feel the air gush and whoosh around you.

“You demented old coot! Swinging brooms and the like around, are you completely classless?!” he propelled himself upright, expertly ducking her onslaught until he was well out the door into the hall. “I won't forget this!”

As luck would have it, their bickering continued on even once they were out of the room, even fifteen minutes later when Michael weaseled through the threshold with your bone broth and bolted the door behind him.

divider by @/anlian-aishang

reposted from my deleted blog officiallytheduchess/cardeneiv

#howl x you #hmc howl #howlscastle #howl's moving castle #howls moving castle #howl pendragon #howl x y/n #howl x reader #howl pendragon x y/n #howl pendragon x you #howl pendragon x reader #hmc imagines #hmc fic #howl hmc #hmc book #hmc #2k writes

[menhera-info-archieve]

in case you haven't seen it yet, here's the menhera 101 article by HoshiCandy from Kei Club Issue 3. not sure if i'll post the other menhera related articles from this issue or not, so consider checking the link in source if you're interested.

i'm also leaving a text transcription under the cut for anyone that may benefit from that

Menhera 101

Menhera fashion has quickly been gaining popularity worldwide! This fast growth has come with its fair share of misunderstandings about the community and style. Menhera artist and designer HoshiCandy is here with a lesson on menhera’s origins, history, and basics. Find more of her work on the pages before and after this article!

What is Menhera? 

“Menhera” can be thought of as “a person who seeks mental wellbeing”. 

The word “Menhera” was born in Japan in 2001, on the “Mental Health” board of anonymous forum 2ch, where users discussed their wellbeing. The users of this board were named “Mental Healthers” which was shortened to “Menhera”. 

The Menhera community covers anything that might cause one mental suffering, such as: physical illness or disability, depression, anxiety, eating disorders, bullying, hyper-sexuality, sexism, homophobia, etc. Importantly, there is no need for a formal diagnosis, as the focus is on how you feel, and that you want to feel better. 

It is difficult to talk about these topics in Japanese society without being heavily stigmatized. Menhera is a community to speak safely without that stigma. Of course, this stigma and need for community when it comes to one’s mental wellbeing is not limited to Japan, and that is why menhera has grown in the west as well. 

Since the creation of the word in 2001, there have been several manga published with “Menhera” in the title, many Visual Kei songs about it, Menhera idol groups, and several menhera fashion brands. 

However, an unfortunate addition to all this has been the discovery of the word in mainstream media...

Just as the topic of illness is heavily stigmatized in Japanese society, the word “Menhera” itself became quickly stigmatized and stereotyped as “an attention seeking, troublesome person” or “an overly attached girlfriend” (aka “yandere”). If you were to speak to a Japanese person about “Menhera”, this would most likely be what they would think you meant. This stereotype tends to be referred to as “Menhera Kei” in Japanese which is why we avoid the use of “kei” for Menhera in particular. 

Despite all this, the true menhera community has continued to grow. 

Menhera Motifs

Artists in the Menhera community created many works of “Vent Art” art that expresses their feelings and suffering. When this art was printed onto clothing, Menhera fashion was born. 

These are some themes you will commonly see in Menhera: 

Medication

Suicide 

Self-harm 

Hospitals

Sex and BDSM

Social Media Addiction

Heartbreak 

Wearing Menhera art printed on clothing serves as a way of literally wearing one’s feelings on one’s sleeves. It turns invisible suffering visible, and fights against the stigma driven silence. This means that Menhera fashion is highly confrontational, with graphic depictions of illness symptoms. Although the onlooker may feel discomfort, the Menhera style says “this is my true reality, don’t pretend it doesn’t exist!”

Depending on the feelings of the wearer, Menhera fashion also says “although I am sick, I can still be ‘kawaii’” or “although I appear ‘kawaii’, on the inside I am suffering”. 

Turning the invisible visible, forcing the silence to be broken, and challenging kawaii culture, these are the goals of Menhera fashion.

The Menhera Silhouette

Carefully avoiding a highly theatrical or OTT (over-the-top) look is important for maintaining the integrity of the goals of menhera. Menhera is a very casual style, with few accessories and light makeup. The key is for a coord to centre on Menhera imagery, whether vent art or text-focused designs, printed onto clothing. 

Be careful not to dress up as the characters depicted in vent art, who are often costumey, gory, and OTT. 

Menhera Coord checklist: 

Printed Menhera art

Byojaku/Minimal makeup

Not OTT/Few accessories

Flat Shoes 

[optional] Oversized top

[optional] Hime bangs 

[optional] twintails

Colors can vary: a pastel yume look, or a gothic yami look, both are fine!

The makeup style is called “Byojaku” meaning “sickly/weak”. Reddish colors are applied to areas around the eyes to give the impression of crying or illness. The rest of the face is kept plain without much color. 

A Note of Caution

The Menhera community is about healing, and seeking recovery and wellbeing. It advocates getting help, medication, therapy, and receiving support through your recovery journey. 

True Menhera never encourages or enables harmful behaviors, and never glorifies them. Menhera fashion is an alternative way of expressing your suffering without self-harm. Menhera fashion empowers the individual through their recovery, but does not empower harmful behaviors. 

There are some, sometimes labeled by the community as “Wannabe Menhera”, who mistook the meaning of “menhera” after seeing its rise in popularity, as it being trendy to fake mental illness. They engage in behaviors such as posting self-harm photos (real or faked) to social media with the tag #menhera, and other attention-seeking behaviors. 

While this is the opposite of what the Menhera community stands for, is harmful to the unfortunate viewers of these photos, and creates further stigma against the community...it cannot be ignored that these “Wannabe Menhera”, too, need help and healing. 

The Menhera fashion movement is to help you feel comfortable, unashamed, and kawaii in your skin, scars and all. It is NOT for encouraging people to create new scars “for the aesthetic”. 

If you are struggling with mental or physical suffering, thoughts, or behaviors that cause harm to yourself or others, please seek help. If you do not believe you deserve help, you do, please seek help. If you believe you are faking it, you likely are not, your feelings are valid, please seek help.

Don’t have access to therapy? 

We found a comprehensive list of suicide prevention hotlines at https://ibpf.org/resource/list-international-suicide-hotlines [link no longer working]

There are also free and affordable counseling services online like Better Help and Pride Counseling! Look online to find what option could work for you! 

Alternatives to Menhera

After reading all this you may be thinking “the Menhera community sounds good but all the fashion is too restrictive for me” and if so, you’re not alone! But the good news is that you don’t have to wear Menhera fashion to be in the Menhera community. 

Look up any of these alternative styles online for examples and more information:

Yamikawaii (“Sickly-cute”) is essentially the aesthetic of Menhera without the activism, a corrupted dark kawaii. Unfortunately the word was trademarked and now suffers from copyright takedowns. 

Yumekawaii (“Dreamy-cute”) an aesthetic evolved from Fairy kei to describe everything pastel and kawaii, but with a slight edge, described as “fairytales with poison”. 

Marekawaii (“Nightmare-cute”) created as an alternative to Yamikawaii to avoid the copyright issues, and as a counterpart to Yumekawaii. Marekawaii is specifically defined as being open to your own interpretation and style. 

Medikawaii (“Medical-cute”) a pastel kawaii aesthetic focusing only on medical motifs, such as medicine and hospitals. 

Gurokawaii (“Grotesque-cute”) mixes frightening and disturbing imagery with kawaii. Kyary Pamyu Pamyu helped popularize it. 

Iryouu Kei (“Medical Kei”) a Visual Kei substyle with lots of gore and hospital theming, very OTT and theatrical, such as dressing like a nightmare nurse. 

Living Doll artists see themselves and their bodies as a canvas to create art and express themselves, often with intricate makeup and body painting. This is a good one to look at if you’re into heavy artistic makeup.

#menhera #info #op #menhera.txt

[fear-is-truth]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤

𝐓𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐧 x flu! reader

in his mind, there was a hint of selfish delight at the prospect of you staying home from school and spending the entire day with him.

but then he realized that you’re suffering, which it made him feel extremely guilty.

so he makes it his personal mission to make you feel better. (succeeded)

since he’s a ghost, he’s immune to your illness.

he brings you extra blankets and tissues, and anything you ask for. he’ll go get it, zero complaints.

“can i get you water? food? medicine?” 

“can i have a popsicle?”

“are you sure? you really shouldn't..."

“please?”

“…what flavour do you want?”

you play cards, listening to nirvana or just talk about random stuff.

he steals your cough drops when he thinks you’re not watching. he’s dead, but still has a sweet tooth.

lacing your fingers together while spooning. (the first time he assumes the position of the big spoon!)

𝐊𝐢𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 x common cold! reader

takes the day off to look after you.

"kit, it's just a common cold, you really don't have to-"

“in sickness and in health, mrs walka. don’t you remember?” 

he brings you extra blankets and wool socks if you’re feeling chilly.

a damp cloth for your forehead if you’re burning up.

he protects your peace when you’re sleeping.

“no, don't wake mommy! she’s sleepy and needs some rest. how 'bout you and thomas go make her a get-well card?”

does the household chores while you rest. ( laundry, cooking, helping the kids with their homework)

checks on your temperature every hour.

“my grandma swears by this chicken noodle soup recipe, nothing some soup and a cuddle can’t fix.”

this man is an absolute angel sent from heaven.

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 x common cold! reader

“you have a fever, sweetness. of course i'm not going anywhere.”

would be grossed-out the pile of used tissues on your bedside table. but he’s too polite to mention it.

he’ll call someone to clean it up, though.

brings your hand to his lips, murmuring sweet words. suddenly you’re not sure if the heat on your cheeks is from the fever or because of james.

pampers you like a literal goddess.

personally supervises the kitchen staff to prepare your favorite dishes, then has them delivered to you on a gleaming silver tray.

fresh bouquets of flowers.

“you need to drink the tonic, love. how else will your cold go away?”

“aw, darling you look miserable... need me to kill someone for your entertainment?”

he’ll tell you stories about his past travels; exotic places he’d visited. (or his most prided murders, if you’re into that sort of thing too)

𝐊𝐚𝐢 𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 x stomach flu! reader

he leans against the bathroom door, face devoid of any emotion, while you hunch over the toilet, vomiting.

eventually, he lets out a sigh and squats down beside you, gently pulling back your hair away as you continue to retch into the toilet.

“you look like absolute crap.”

after you’re done, kai stands up. without warning, he scoops you up, bridal style.

“puke on me, and i’ll drop you.”

he carries you downstairs to the basement and dumps you rather unceremoniously onto the couch. hands you a bucket.

then he ignores you. acts like he doesn’t give a flying fuck about your well-being.

sits on the floor working on his laptop, occasionally sneaking glances at your direction.

“you can watch tv if you want. just not american housewife.”

“i’m going to the kitchen. need anything?”

mansplains to you about the importance of health and self-preservation.

“why can’t you take better care of yourself, huh?” he grumbles as he tossed you a throw blanket.

“this one’s gonna cost you. big time.” he groused as he set a glass of water and two tylenol on the coffee table.

𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲 ! 𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 x common cold! reader

tells his frat brothers to kindly leave the two of you alone.

he dots on you. babies you, even.

“come on. take the medicine, i’ll get you some ice cream after you’ve taken it”

keeps a steady supply of throat lozenges and tissues within your reach, anticipating your needs before you even ask.

draws a warm bath for you when he sees you shivering.

lends you his own clothes to wear.

you looked so adorable in his hoodie and sweatpants, he stared at you.

you watch a movie on his laptop, snuggled against each other in bed.

soothing back rubs!

“you're going to get sick if you keep coddling me like this, ky.”

“you won’t get me sick. well. you might, but i don’t mind.” 

-—————————⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆—————————-

✧. a/n ─ my apologies for not including jimmy and austin.. will update when i finish watching! pls excuse the crappy writing, english is not my first language.

✧. part 2: the evans when they are sick

©️@brknlamb

#american horror story #tate langdon #kai anderson #evan peters #james patrick march #kit walker #kyle spencer #tate langdon x reader #kai anderson x y/n #jpm x reader #kit walker x reader #ahs #tate langdon x y/n #kai anderson x reader #ahs imagine #the evans headcanons

[bunniekittiee]

The Loudest Silence

Based off of @heavenlymorals ‘s post that Bi-Han had an injury to his throat that caused the raspiness. I did some research on throat illnesses and for this one, I went with acute laryngitis. Also this isn’t proofread so ignore any errors! I suck at endings btw.

It was unknown how Bi-Han got ill as he hardly ever got sick, but he was suffering. He attempted to cover his illness and continue his regular activities, such as hard training and practicing his ability to withstand the cold of the Arctika. But at night, he ran a high fever and his body was wracked with coughs until he was coughing blood. His mother was worried, extremely worried. She stayed up many nights to help Bi-Han by giving him tea to sip on and rubbing his back. She made sure he slept elevated so his coughing would not persist as long.

However, his father was not happy that Bi-Han was sick. He blamed himself for not strengthening his immune system, and he encouraged Bi-Han to freeze the illness out. His mother thought otherwise, so they argued over the course of action. She wanted Bi-Han to rest and recover, he wanted him to continue training and get over his illness in the cryomancer way.

“He is going to be the Grandmaster one day. How can he be a leader if you coddle him?” His father spat as he lifted his hands up in irritation.

“It is not coddling if I’m taking care of him because he is ill. He’s coughing blood! He can barely stand up, let alone train.” She replied with her face twisted in irritation. “I will not let you push our son until he is severely ill. He needs to rest.”

They bickered while Bi-Han listened, his body fighting for him to stay in bed but his mind told him he needed to train. He needed to prove his father wrong. His father was always harder on Bi-Han than Kuai Liang and Tomas who did not have to prove themselves as much as Bi-Han had to.

That was the downside of being the first-born son.

And he resented his brothers like hell for it.

Kuai Liang snuck into Bi-Han’s room with soup, using his hands to keep it warm. “I brought you something to eat, brother.”

Bi-Han looked at him, unable to talk as his throat was inflamed shut. His vocal cords felt like they were being ripped out of him when he made an effort to speak. He shook his head when Kuai Liang came closer with the soup.

“Why not? Are you not hungry?” He asked.

Bi-Han sighed in frustration as he was unable to communicate why he didn’t want to eat. It wasn’t that he was not hungry, it felt like sandpaper going down his throat when he ate. It was painful and uncomfortable.

He tried to communicate with his eyes, but eventually gave up and grabbed something who write on next to him. His mother made sure he had something to write with as she understood he had a hard time telling his family what he needed.

Kuai Liang looked at the paper when Bi-Han held it up and nodded. “Oh, I see. I’m sorry brother. I’ll leave it in the kitchen for now. Is there anything else you might need?”

He shook his head once more and made the motion to shoo Kuai Liang out. His brother listened and closed the door behind him, making Bi-Han sigh again.

He felt like death. He was sure Death would claim him. He wanted to rip his own throat out. The overwhelming urge to sleep took over him, and he closed his eyes.

Groggily waking up, Bi-Han slung his legs over the edge of his bed. He still felt horrible, but he knew his father was right. He needed to try to freeze the sickness out somehow. As he began to get dressed, he felt lightheaded as the corners of his vision began to fuzz. He shook his head slightly. He could not be weak. He could not show weakness.

Despite how much as his body yearned for his bed, he had to make an effort to improve his health. So he trudged out of his room and quietly padded down the hall as he swallowed his built up saliva in his mouth. It hurt horribly when he did, but he could not help it.

“Bi-Han! What are you doing up?” Tomas asked him as he approached Bi-Han. He narrowed his eyes at Tomas and opened his mouth to say something but he could not get a sound out. His vocal cords throbbed, and he rubbed his throat. Glaring at Tomas, he pushed past time and tried to make his way outside.

That was, until Kuai Liang stopped him.

“What are you doing, brother? You need to be resting. Why are you going outside?” Kuai Liang questioned as he stood between Bi-Han and the door.

The eldest brother wanted to explode. Everyone was getting in his way. His brown eyes burned into Kuai Liang’s as he moved his brother to the side. He began to go outside into the snowy tundra while his brothers followed behind him.

“You cannot go outside! It will worsen your condition.” Liang said worriedly as he caught up next to Bi-Han. “Please go back inside.”

Ignoring his request, Bi-Han stepped through the snow as the icy winds burned his throat and nasal passages. His head hurt badly now.

Kuai Liang told Tomas to get their mother while he followed Bi-Han. “Please brother, we don’t want your illness to become worse.”

“Obey my orders.” Bi-Han guttural voice that had not been used for a week rang in the air. He regretted speaking as his throat felt like it was being scraped with sandpaper and a knife. Kuai Liang was taken aback a little bit from the sounds of Bi-Han’s voice. It sounded painful. Bi-Han clenched his jaw and continued stepping through the snow while Kuai Liang lingered behind him.

The Arctika itself was always chilly with its freezing winds and the snow that seemed to never stop. But it had cold spots that were icy compared to the normal coldness. That was where Bi-Han was headed. It was easier to focus his power, and he hoped that the extra chill would help him freeze his illness out.

Kuai Liang warmed himself up from the bitter cold as he followed him. Tomas trailed behind the two brothers, shivering and the tip of his nose and cheeks turning red. He did not understand how Bi-Han could withstand it so easily.

Reaching the cold spot, Bi-Han threw himself onto the ground and began to cover himself in snow. His teeth chattered and his bones ached from the snow, but he knew he could focus his powers better this way. He had to freeze it out one way.

“Brother!” Kuai Liang kneeled down next to him and attempted to get the snow off of him, but Bi-Han smacked his hands. “You are going to get even more sick!”

Despite Tomas and Kuai Liang’s blabbering, Bi-Han sunk into the snow more and began to focus on the freezing temperatures. The cold. The ice that was beginning to frost over him. He needed to get his illness out quick.

He closed his eyes and blocked out his brothers’ pleas and focused on his heartbeat. His bones now ached to a great extent. His throat felt like it was being shredded by a cheese grater with every breath he took.

Bi-Han was not sure if he fell asleep or if he passed out. All he felt was someone pick him up which woke him up from his sleep. He assumed it was Kuai Liang, and Bi-Han grumbled quietly.

He felt warmth engulf his body, but it did not feel good. Going from extreme cold temperatures to hot made him feel like he was on fire. He groaned in pain, his throat flaring up again as he felt like his skin was being engulfed in flames. He fluttered his eyes open, and there stood his mother. She was worried, he could tell by the scrunch of her eyebrows. He saw a glimpse of his father approaching, but his eyes felt heavy. Bi-Han soon passed out once more.

When he opened his eyes again, he glanced around and saw that he was in bed with multiple blankets stacked on him. Near his bed, his mother slept. He felt his heart lurch as his worries consumed him. Was she okay? Did something happen?

Her eyes opened when she heard Bi-Han shifting around, and she got up quickly to tend to his needs. “My son! How do you feel?”

Bi-Han had a pounding headache, his limbs felt heavy, his bones hurt, he was not in any better shape. If not, worse than before.

He explained this to her on the paper pad and she sighed. “I told your father that freezing it out would only worsen it. I was right. You are officially on bed rest, Bi-Han.” She said as she gently pushed his stray hairs back from his forehead. “You are not going anywhere. You will not resume training. You will not get up from this bed, do you understand me?”

He wanted to argue and tell her that he could do it, but with the way he felt, he did not feel like doing anything. He just nodded his head at her while she sighed again.

“I don’t know what I would do if I were to lose you, my love.” She told him quietly. “You are my life. As well as Kuai Liang, but you are my life.”

Bi-Han suddenly felt tired, his eyelids starting to drag down as his vision blurred. He was once again entering his dream state that was empty. Void of any dreams. Just darkness.

It had taken three weeks for Bi-Han to fully recover. His mother fought hard for his father to give Bi-Han the adequate amount of recovery time. His father respected her wishes and granted Bi-Han time to rest. As much as he wanted his son to continue his training and work, he did not like to see him so severely ill. He saw how sickly Bi-Han looked after he tried to freeze it out of him. Bi-Han was pale with blue veins slightly showing through his skin. His body was limp and deathly cold. He thought for a moment that his son had perished by his own bad encouragement. But Bi-Han persisted.

As a future Grandmaster should.

Bi-Han began to feel better halfway into Week 3. He felt more energized and did not have to worry about falling asleep out of nowhere. Kuai Liang and Tomas were joyous to have their brother back even if he was grouchy. They had missed Bi-Han accompanying them to training and his moodiness that only made them annoy him more.

Training had its difficulties as he did not have the stamina built up anymore. So he had a somewhat difficult time attempting to adjust to his usual regime. However, he was used to not talking. His body may have been recovering well, but his throat still had flare ups. No one expected him to talk. But it frustrated him to no end trying to communicate without speaking. No one seemed to understand him. And sometimes it was hard keeping his side comments to himself.

One day, Tomas had accidentally smacked Kuai Liang in the face with a stick, causing the brother to have a large red mark across his cheek.

“By the Gods! Kuai Liang, I am so sorry!” Tomas apologized to him as Kuai, annoyed, told him it was fine.

“You imbecile.” Bi-Han rasped. “You need to watch where you are swinging objects.”

Tomas and Kuai both jumped on surprise, eyes wide as they swiveled their heads to Bi-Han.

“Brother, your voice…” Kuai Liang said in shock.

“It’s different.” Tomas breathed as they studied Bi-Han who was a little surprised himself. His voice was altered from his illness, and he did not expect it. It was deeper than normal with some raspiness to it. He sounded much older and a little intimidating.

“Be quiet, both of you.” He rumbled. Both of his brothers obeyed his orders.

Bi-Han used his voice more, even surprising his parents. “Your voice is new.” His father told him. “A future Grandmaster with a voice like that will bring him success.”

Bi-Han debated on whether his father was telling him the truth or not. He was used to his original voice, and he did not want any changes to it. It wasn’t anything special, but it was his regularity. Now, he had a much deeper and raspier voice that didn’t sit well with him.

Would he admit he was insecure? Absolutely not.

But his mother noticed he used his voice less despite being fully recovered. And she did what mothers always do best.

“My son,” she said to him one day while she helped him apply creams to his face. His face was breaking out from stress, and he was irritated because of it. “Your voice is lovely. It may have changed due to our sickness, but you sound intimidating. You can use that to your advantage, especially when you are Grandmaster.”

The cryomancer did not have that thought cross his mind. His mother was right, he could use it to his advantage. Bi-Han had always been on the much colder side with his personality, so having a voice like that would only add to his demeanor.

Brown eyes staring at his mother’s, he nodded his head. “I had never thought about it that way. Thank you.”

She smiled at him softly, continuing to rub a bit more cream onto his face.

Kuai Liang and Tomas had the hardest time adjusting to Bi-Han’s voice. They never fully got used to it, and if Bi-Han snuck up on them, he often surprised them.

He scared Tomas so bad that the poor kid swung himself off the side of one of the hills around the Arctika. His powers were definitely tested that day on whether he could control his smoke enough to bring himself up the large hill again. Bi-Han found is amusing while Kuai was worried about Tomas being hurt.

Bi-Han utilized his mother’s advice for many years, even after she had passed. Growing from a teenager to a fully-fledged man who was now the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, he had much practice with altering his voice to sound more imposing on others. Sometimes, he used it on his siblings. But Kuai Liang always rolled his eyes and told Bi-Han that he was not scaring anyone.

But they never were used to his voice. How gravelly it could sound and how it would change throughout the day. His voice sounded much different in the mornings than in the afternoons.

He was thankful he had gotten ill those many years ago. It worked out in his favor despite how much pain he had to go through. But he thought it worked out in his benefit.

#mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mk 1 2023 #mk1 #mk 1 #mk bi han #mk sub zero #mk kuai liang #mk scorpion #mk tomas vrbada #mk smoke #mk1 sub zero #scorpion mk1 #mk1 smoke #sub zero mk1 #mk1 scorpion #smoke mk1 #bi han mk #bi han sub zero #bi han mortal kombat #bi han #mk1 kuai liang #kuai liang #mk1 tomas vrbada #tomas vrbada

[maxislvt]

Please me, Squeeze me, Tease me

Summary: Wanda really likes playing with her toys. Even when you've reached your limit, she has more for you.

Warnings: Vaginal fingering (r receiving), Strap-on usage (r receiving), squirting, overstimulation, praise kink, dirty talk, Wanda being an absolute pleasure dom because I am a slut!! The reader is afab but no gendered terms!

A/N: The impulsive thoughts won, but it's a sweet victory. Please someone ask me about my pleasure dom Wanda, it's becoming an illness at this point.

"Don't be shy, baby, I want them to know who you belong to."

The hushed whisper only pushed you further into the depths of lust. Every thrust of Wanda's fingers sent you closer to an edge you'd never return from. Wetness leaked from your core down Wanda's arm and onto the bedsheets. Despite Wanda's encouragement, you were much too shy to let out anything more than a whimper or a small plea.

"Wanda, please, I can't— I really can't," You squeaked out. You were sure the sheets were torn and permanently stained by now. Just when you thought you were at the end of your rope and about to tap out, Wanda managed to squeeze out another orgasm. There was no stopping her now that she had a goal set for herself. Wanda wanted to claim you and you were all for it. The way she held you close and whispered the sweetest things in your ears as she brought you into a never-ending sea of pure bliss. Now you were drowning in it and there was no way to come back up. "Fuck, god, I'm so close!"

Wanda smirked as she peppered soft kisses against the inside of your thigh. "That's what I like to hear. Never tell me you can't." Her long fingers had long since stretched you out, but she couldn't get enough of how good you felt wrapped around her fingers. "I promise this will be the last one with my fingers before we get to the real fun," She purred, curling her fingers at just the right angle to send you flying into another orgasm. The two of you had long since lost count of your orgasm, but that hadn't stopped Wanda. "You're gonna look so cute with my dick inside you."

Despite the torture your cunt had suffered through, it throbbed at the mere thought of being filled up again. You could only nod along as Wanda got off the bed to prepare for another round of having her way with you. Your legs immediately shut when you saw the size of the strap she'd chosen. "That's a new one…" Despite your hesitation, you couldn't deny how aroused the size made you.

"And you're more than wet enough to take it." Wanda's hands gently guided your legs apart and wrapped them around her waist. "Just breathe for me." She swirled the tip around your clit a few times before easing inside of you. The sound of squelching sent a shiver up her spine. You were hopelessly hers. No one would ever get you that wet. "I own this messy little pussy, don't I," She asked with a confident smirk. "Say it, tell me I own it." She filled you to the brim in mere seconds.

Your back arched off the bed and your feet kicked frantically. You were much too sensitive for an actual toy, but the two of you would continue anyways. "Fuck," You whispered as Wanda began thrusting into you. "You own my messy little pussy." Any thoughts going through your head were quickly being flushed out. That's how Wanda wanted you. Thoughtless and ruined. Another orgasm was already working its way through your body and more would keep coming. "That feels so good," You rasped out.

"I know, baby, I know," She cooed. Her free hand cupped your face gently. Her thumb ran over your bottom lip lovingly. Then it slipped between your lips quickly. "You look so good. Do you like it when I fuck you up?" Wanda slowed her thrusts just to exaggerate the wet, sloppy sounds coming from your pussy. "Does my sweet baby like being messy and sticky?" The smile that overtook her face was deceptively sweet. Her eyes sparkled with admiration. So much so that it almost hid the burning lust within them. Almost.

Your breathing stuttered when Wanda's thumbs slid down the column of your throat. Her other thumb went down to your clit. Her hands worked in synchronized movements with her hips. "No…wait, I can't!" Your body twitched and shuddered underneath Wanda's touch. It was an out-of-body experience. Not a single part of your body was under your control and you'd lost yourself to the blinding white light of pleasure. The sticky liquid bursting out of you was against your own will. No matter how much you wanted it to stop, it just kept coming. "Wanda, I really need a break, please."

Wanda watched you fall apart in amazement. The mess of the sheets was wholly irrelevant. You two had been together for quite some time, but Wanda had never been able to make you squirt. One small action had entirely reignited her passion for pleasing you. Her hips drew back and she pulled out slowly. "What's your color, baby?" Her teeth dug into the gentle flesh of her lip. A million thoughts ran through her head on ways to make you squirt again. "I promise it'll be the last one…for real this time."

You weighed your options. To say you were drained was an understatement. The mere thought of moving your legs and doing anything besides sleeping pained you. Yet, the way Wanda looked at you was so delicious. She always looked at you a certain way. Her bright green eyes would darken and watch your every move like you were nothing but prey to be feasted upon.

"Green."

Wanda's lips were back on yours in seconds. Teeth against teeth and tongue against tongue. Her passion would never die. She leaned back, moving to lie down beside you before slipping her faux dick back inside you. "God, I'd kill to feel this messy little thing wrapped around my dick," She whispered in your ear. Her hips began a slow, purposeful rhythm. This would be your last, and it had to outdo all the others that came before it. "Do you wanna cum? Tell me how bad you wanna cum for me," She said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

Your hips twitched and bucked, unsure of if they wanted more or needed a break. The undeniable pleasure of being stretched out with the venomous pain of overstimulation lying just underneath. It wasn't fair. Words would tumble to the tip of your tongue only to fall into nothingness when they passed your lips. "I- can't!" Was the only thing you were able to say before you were plunged back into the thoughtless headspace.

Wanda plunged her strap impossibly deeper inside of you. "Oh, so you can boss me around but can't tell me I'm doing a good job?" Her hips snapped forward, rubbing the tip flush against that spongy patch of nerves deep inside of you. "I don't think that's quite fair, sweetheart." Her free hand pressed firmly against your pelvis. "You better look extra cute when you cum for me if you wanna make up for being mean to me." You would look amazing when you came. Wanda knew that. It was just fun to see you desperate to please her.

You nodded along frantically, unable to communicate any other way. Another tight knot formed in the pit of your stomach. Somehow it was bigger than the last. This was going to become an addiction for both of you. "'m so close," You whined. You harshly tugged on Wanda's t-shirt in an attempt to pull her closer. You were drowning. Forever smothered by a wave of pure bliss. Everything felt too good to be ashamed by the liquid spilling out of and onto your partner's lower half. Wanda's praise had fallen on deaf ears, but you appreciated her attempts to keep you grounded.

Wanda gives you a second to relax before pulling out. Both her hands move up to cup your face and her thumb runs over your lip. "How's my baby feeling?" She didn't expect an answer, not with how fizzled out your brain was. All she received in response was a string of light, airy giggles and a crooked smile from you. It makes her smile. "Well, that's good to hear, but it's time to get my precious thing washed up."

You mindlessly nod along with her commands. Too weak to fight back and not keen on the idea of sleeping in a pool of your cum, you followed her every move. To the bathtub, to the dinner table, and back to the bed once the sheets had been replaced. "Thank you," You whispered into Wanda's chest. No matter how long you two had been together, you never knew what to say after sex.

"You're very welcome. I'll give you whatever you want, all you have to do is ask." But, Wanda always reassured you it was okay to not know. That was her job. You were hers to take care of.

No one else's.

#pvntherz #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda fanfic #wanda smut #elizabeth olsen smut #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x female reader

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.36

Summary: It's the new year and you're determined to start it off better than the last. But really, how smooth could it go when you associate with an Addams and her group of Outcasts?

Word Count: 4.4k Warnings: swearing, mental instability, mental illness, grieving, murder Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

“How was your new year?” Mama Weems asked. “Do anything exciting with the group?”

“We did “exciting” last year and have been suffering for it ever since,” you said. “We stayed in and played Jackbox Games.”

If you had been sitting across the table from her, like a normal person would, you would have seen her smile over the lip of her coffee cup. But you weren’t a normal person, and you weren’t sitting across the table. No, you were sitting right beside her, so close that you could feel the warmth from her side. A warmth that you didn’t really get from anyone else.

Not that it was Wednesday’s fault, of course. She was just… a little cold-blooded. And she had the audacity to get stingy with her kisses around this time of year.  Which was rude, honestly, and partially why you had ditched her to hang out with Mama Weems instead. It definitely wasn’t because she was hanging out with Enid.

“How have you been, darling?” Mama Weems asked. Her arm felt nice wrapped around your shoulders. “Truthfully.”

Don’t admit to anything, the voice in the back of your head practically growled. If there was anything you hated, it was that stupid voice. Never leaving, somehow always chiming in when you didn’t want it to. There really wasn’t anything about it that made you feel it was necessary. Or even wanted. Why couldn’t it just let you make your own decisions?

“I’m tired,” you said in a soft voice. Humiliating. “I just want things to go back to how they were.���

Mama Weems’ pulled you the miniscule distance closer. She wasn’t as warm as Enid, but no one was as warm as Enid. It didn’t change much, warm was warm. And you had been feeling so very cold lately. Not the kind of cold that could be fixed with a blanket and someone to hold, but a cold that reached into your soul and refused to let go.

A coward. That damned voice was getting more and more demanding. More vicious. It was almost clawing at the back of your mind, gauging ravines into your brain and devouring anything in its way. Like a feral beast trapped in a cage, desperate to escape.

Wow. That was almost poetic. Maybe Wednesday was rubbing off on you.

“I wish I could say it was all part of growing up,” Mama Weems said, bringing you back to the situation at hand. Right. Coffee.  “But I wouldn’t wish to diminish your experiences with a simple solution.”

She shouldn’t impart such wise words. You didn’t want pity, you didn’t want wise words, you just wanted a hug. A warm hug that was a little too nice and that could make you forget about everything just for a few seconds. Hugs weren’t exactly Wednesday’s thing, even though she tried. Oh she tried, the sweet thing, but you couldn’t make her uncomfortable for something that wouldn’t even fix anything.

“How has therapy been going?” She asked. “Has it been helping?”

“A bit,” you said with a nod.

It wasn’t a lie; it really was helping a bit. Shaun was nice, you supposed. And he at least outwardly seemed to care, so that was nice too. And you were even starting to learn to open up! Okay, not a lot and it was still an uphill battle, but you had told Wednesday two things about your parents. Oh yeah. You were making progress.

Except.

“Really need him after the holidays,” you said softly.

The holidays themselves were fine. You weren’t necessarily the biggest fan of Christmas, but you enjoyed spending the time with your family. And Wednesday, but spending time with her was a given. No, you wouldn’t deny that the holiday time was something worth interrupting your routine for.

It was the murder.

If no one had turned on the news that Christmas morning, you never would have known. You weren’t even sure who had actually done it, if they had even done it on purpose in the first place. All you remembered was you had all been getting ready to play No Mercy Uno, and the TV was on.

Murder on the Polar Express. That was the dumb title the news station had written on the little banner on the bottom of the screen. A title that had nothing to do with the grisly murder of some poor college girl in DC. Some girl that was apparently associated with Kristi, because she was the one who had come forward for the press release.

There was no proof that it had anything to do with you. No proof at all, in any direction. But you would admit, it was starting to get creepy. First Mr. Hart and then this new girl? You had plenty of reasons to hate Marcus and Kristi, but that didn’t mean you wanted anyone to get hurt.

You like when they suffer, the voice in your head had growled when Kristi let a tear slip. Probably fake, but you couldn’t prove it.

“Are you seeing him again soon?” Mama Weems asked.

Right. You were at the cafe. You really needed to stop letting yourself get carried away, it was starting to make you think that maybe, just maybe, you were starting to lose your mind.

“I need to,” you said with a sigh.

“I’m proud of you,” she said softly, pulling you tighter and pressing a feather-light kiss on the top of your head.

Now that was worth coming back to the present for.

—---

“Would you consider me mentally unstable?” You asked as you expertly flipped the pancake in the skillet. Maybe you should be a chef.

“Of course,” Yoko answered without hesitation.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” you emphasised, “I was asking Wednesday.”

“Then be more specific next time,” she said.

You grumbled, but supposed she was right. It’s what you got for inviting the trio over for breakfast. That was what happened when you didn’t listen to Wednesday. She had warned you not to invite them. Sure, it was because she just didn’t want to put up with anyone, but still! Maybe your girlfriend was always right!

Not that you would tell her. You couldn’t have her getting a big head.

“Do you have reason to believe you’re mentally unstable?” Wednesday asked as she appeared beside you. Back at Nevermore, her silent movements would have scared you. But not anymore, you were a professional now.

You shrugged. “I guess not.”

“Then no,” she said, holding the plate out for you to finish sliding the last remaining pancake onto the rather impressive tower.

“Don’t say it,” you heard Divina whisper when you and Wednesday walked over to the table where the three were sitting patiently.

Well. Except for Enid.

“Damn Wednesday,” Yoko said anyway, “Big Bird has turned you soft.”

“Yoko,” Enid and Divina scolded simultaneously.

“I’ll give you one chance to repeat that belief,” Wednesday said. Her glare at the vampire was phenomenal. Fuck, you loved her.

Yoko looked at Wednesday. “These look delicious,” she said instead, instantly grabbing food from the plates laid out on the table.

“Coward,” Divina chuckled lightly.

“You try shit talking the goth girl over there,” Yoko whispered back.

“I believe Enid is the only one of you that has any survival skills,” Wednesday said.

Everyone looked over to the pup, and you had to do your best not to laugh at her. Even though everyone had only gotten settled not even two minutes ago, Enid was already finishing off her third pancake and was in the process of grabbing more. The berries had been haphazardly pushed to the side of her plate, and all the bacon and sausage had not-so-mysteriously disappeared.

It was a good thing you still had plenty of batter. This might end up being only Enid’s breakfast.

The woman herself froze after realising everyone was looking at her. “Did you guys want some?” She asked with her mouth full.

“Eat away, E,” you said with a quiet laugh. “I can always make more.”

She just smiled - as best she could with a dry pancake nearly to her lips - before continuing to tear into the food. Everyone else was quick to follow, though they all managed to be a little more… civilised. Or they did. You struggled to maintain much more composure than Enid. Thank gods you made the both of you some protein pancakes so it wasn’t another breakfast massacre.

As much as you knew Wednesday loved to gripe and complain about having people over, it was easy to tell she loved it. There was no overt way to notice, and truthfully you weren’t even sure if Enid would know. But it was there. In her small outward complaints about what everyone was doing, even though you had never seen her hands so relaxed. In the open judgement of everyone’s opinions while that furrow of her brows all but disappeared. In the comfort of her willingly holding your hand and letting it rest on the table where everyone could see.

It was nice. Not anything extravagant, nothing that most would consider memorable, but for you? The mundane feeling of it all? It was one of the best moments of your life. Your family was all together in one spot, you were all just existing and it was perfect. No worries, no cares, nothing amiss. A perfect morning.

It’s going to come crashing down, the voice said.

You looked down at your plate and refused to look up. The pressure in your head left a fuzzy haze around the edge of your vision. But you knew better. Nothing could get you to look back up at the carnage that you would undoubtedly see. It was like a filter, covering everyone in blood and gore, setting the scene of a bloody massacre that wasn’t even real.

Something cold rested on your thigh; one of the few times you were thankful that Wednesday naturally ran cooler than most. The smallest change in temperature, even for just a moment, had the fog dissipating and the almost inaudible rumbling fading back into nothing.

“Breathe,” Wednesday whispered, so softly that you weren’t even sure the werewolf and vampire senses could hear it.

Her thumb rubbed against your knee. A constant, feather-light touch that would have been infuriating in any other sense. But when it was drawing you back down to earth, it was a godsend. Something to focus on. Even just the sight of her shiny black nails kept you grounded.

“Good girl,” Wednesday said with a light squeeze to your thigh.

You almost wished she would have left you in that mental hellscape, because you knew everyone else had heard that phrase.

“Don’t,” Divina said, and you looked up just in time to see Yoko’s shit-eating grin.

“Why am I not surprised?” Yoko asked anyway.

“I hope you enjoyed breakfast,” Wednesday started.

“Because you’re never getting invited again,” you finished.

“Can I still come?” Enid asked.

“Yeah, don’t make us suffer because she can’t shut up,” Divina chimed in, still taking her time in eating her breakfast. Which… you supposed everyone else was too, aside from you and Enid.

“You’re both throwing me under the bus?” Yoko asked incredulously.

“Seems they have some common sense,” Wednesday said before taking a sip of her coffee that you couldn’t guarantee was still hot. The slight grimace on her face gave you the answer.

“You two can still come,” you said as you stood up and grabbed the coffee pot. “It would be lonely without a bit of company.”

“Wednesday isn’t enough for you?” Yoko asked.

You glared at her while pouring the coffee into Wednesday’s mug. Then Enid’s, then Divina’s. You purposefully ignored the mug Yoko held out for you, and you didn’t feel the least bit sorry for it. If she wanted to be a dick, you were going to treat her like the nuisance she really was.

“Keep your girl in line, you two,” you said with a raised brow before standing up, grabbing empty plates to take to the sink. “I’d hate to see Wednesday end her bloodline.”

“It would be the wisest option,” Wednesday agreed. A few more plates clinked against each other before she appeared beside you, carefully placing the small pile of plates into the sink.

“Can your bloodline end like that?” Divina whispered from the table.

“Shut up,” Yoko whispered back, “you’re both leaving me to Wednesday!”

Divina laughed.

“Enid, help me out here.”

“Huh?” You heard Enid mumble around what was probably another pancake. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

You did your best not to laugh at the bickering continuing behind you. From your peripheral, you could see Wednesday was in the same boat. Not that she laughed aloud, but you could see the smallest uptick of the corner of her mouth. Most of the time she would try to hide it, but she wasn’t even trying even as she got started on assisting with the dishes.

And by god did you fall just a little more in love.

The rest of the morning went by quickly. Not that anyone really had any plans aside from hanging out. Kent and Ajax popped by to bring some of the veggies from their little in-apartment garden. As usual, Wednesday was severely disappointed that they weren’t poisonous. You made a mental note to ask her mom for dangerous plant advice.

“If you feel concerned about your stability,” Wednesday said after everyone was gone and you had both laid on the couch, “you should go meet with Shaun.”

You sighed. “I know.” You pulled her closer until you could rest your chin on her shoulder. “I’ll go tomorrow morning.”

“A wise decision,” she said softly. “You can go to coffee with Casey and Devan after.”

You froze. How did she know?

She’s watching you, the voice taunted. She doesn’t trust you.

“They called you over Christmas,” she said, almost as if she could sense your discomfort. “You had not yet decided if you were going or not.”

Right. Right, you remembered that. Of course it was that simple. Something heavy settled in your stomach. Had you really nearly believed that stupid voice that Wednesday, your Wednesday, was spying on you? Why? Why would you trust something that, so far, had said nothing good to you since its appearance?

Wednesday’s cold lips pressed against the inside of your wrist. She had to bend your arm a little awkwardly to do so, but you didn’t care. If it meant you could feel her mouth over that pulse point, you would bend any way she wished. You knew she was sparing with her physical affection, and you were going to enjoy every little moment of it.

“Tomorrow will help,” she whispered against your skin.

Yeah, you thought as you pressed your own kiss to the back of her neck. Tomorrow will help.

—---

It was a lie. It was all a lie. Tomorrow, as you and Wednesday had initially thought, would not help.

You and Wednesday had both fallen asleep on the couch, which was weird enough on its own. Usually, she would wake you both up to move to the bed, even if it was only for an hour or two. But when you both woke up, you were still in the same place you had been the night before. Even the TV was still on the same channel, running some reruns of Star Trek.

Then your phone had been close to dead. Seeing as you had fallen asleep on the couch, you hadn’t plugged it in. When you had finally gotten up, you noticed your phone only had a small bit of battery left. Only enough to set up a time with Casey and Devan, and to call Shaun. Perfect.

“When will you go to the coffee shop?” Wednesday asked as you hopped around the room, trying not to die while you pulled your sweats on.

“My appointment is at nine so… sometime after 10, I guess?” You said.

“How will I know where you are?” Wednesday asked. She placed her hands on your hips to keep you still for a moment. It was nice.

“If I’m not at Shaun’s or the coffee shop, then I’ve been kidnapped or murdered,” you said with a nod. “Exact revenge as necessary.”

Wednesday nodded once before leaning up to press a quick, chaste kiss to your lips. You loved those kisses. They were rare, and they were cold, and they sent a shiver down your spine. You wanted to call Shaun and tell him you couldn’t come in anymore. But when Wednesday ushered you out the door, you knew you had to go be an adult, at least for a little while.

And then you had nearly been late to your appointment. Because gods forbid something goes right.

“You’re still frazzled,” Shaun said from his stupid therapist chair.

Yoko had scolded you once for calling it a therapist chair, but she couldn’t argue that it was anything else. It was! It was the long half-chair-half-sofa thing that you thought only belonged in a rich person’s house and was used for nothing but showing off. From looks alone, it wasn’t even comfortable.

“It’s just,” you shrugged, “a lot.”

“Well,” Shaun sighed, “you’ve mentioned your parents, that intern’s murder, and your frustration with the world at large.” He waited until you met his eyes. “Anything else bothering you?”

Everything, you wanted to say. The cruelty of a world that refused to let you rest. Your brother’s ghost that haunted you so irregularly that you may as well consider him nothing but the occasional jumpscare. Knowing that no matter what, you couldn’t actually keep anyone safe.

You’re a coward, the voice said. You will let them all burn in the fires of your mistakes.

Never mind. You knew what to talk about.

“There’s a voice,” you said as you tapped your finger against your temple. “It’s like the devil on your shoulder, except it won’t shut up.”

Shaun tilted his head and shifted in his seat. “A voice?” You nodded. “What does it sound like?”

“The first few times it sounded like Nicky,” you said, as if it wasn’t as terrible of a feeling as it truly was. It was like the words flew right out of your mouth. “Then it was…” you sighed. “Almost him?” You questioned. “But distorted?”

“What does it tell you?” Shaun asked.

“It-”

-Tell him, the voice said. Far too eagerly. Tell him of all the things we talk about. You shivered. Tell him of all the things I show you.

Why was it so eager to be known? How was it going to benefit from being exposed? Now that it wanted you to, you wanted to keep your mouth shut. You were a conspiracy theorist at heart, and Wednesday had given you some useful paranoia, so you could pick out a bad idea from a mile away.

And this now seemed like a very bad idea.

“Just… things,” you said.

Coward.

“What kind of things?”

He sounded too eager. Way too eager. You did your best to hide your “suspicious face,” as Wednesday had called it, before turning around to look at him. Something uncomfortable crawled over your skin when you saw him leaning forward in his chair. Elbows resting on his knees and eyes wide and if you really let your mind go crazy, maybe even the smallest hint of a smile.

Tell him, the voice said. Tell him tell him tell him-

-the little chant in your head continued to speed up, carving the words into your skull. It felt like the incessant words were making your teeth vibrate and your eyes ache. Maybe if you told him, it would stop. You could have some peace and quiet for once.

But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something would go wrong.

“You should listen to it.”

“What?” You blurted out.

Shaun blinked hard before sitting back in the chair. You knew false relaxation when you saw it. Wednesday had taught you all the tips and tricks of a liar. But this? This was different. That glint in his eyes had disappeared and he almost looked… lost? Like he didn’t know where that had come from.

Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he did. You weren’t sure which answer you would have liked better.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I think I need to cut this short.” He scratched his head hesitantly, now no longer even looking at you. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded but didn’t leave. Did he mean it? Did he really want you to leave? But when he still didn’t look back up and instead let his head fall into his hands, you recognised the position. Hell, you were in it all the time when your brain was overloading. He meant it.

Never again would you say therapy was boring.

—---

Casey and Devan were cool. And you weren’t just saying that because they had bought you your coffee. Although that was also pretty cool, because you had maybe three dollars in your wallet. But now that you could actually just sit and talk with them? It was nice. It reminded you of sitting with Nicky.

They knew stories about Nicky that you hadn’t even remembered. Stories that, most likely, you had never known in the first place. You had known him as your big brother, as your best friend. But really, he had a whole life outside of you. He went on adventures, had two partners, experienced things that you hadn’t been old enough to experience with him.

Part of it hurt; you wouldn’t try to act like it didn’t. It sounded like he was happy. Really, truly, genuinely happy. Why wouldn’t he have told you about any of it? Did he not think you would be happy for him? That you wouldn’t be proud of him for having a life outside of the horrifying upbringing you had both been subjected to?

“You’re gonna leave me just like mom and dad.”

Oh. Right. That was why he hadn’t told you.

But the other part of you was still happy to get to hear the fun things he got to do. To know that he did get to live a fairly normal life. He got to be a teenager, got to grow up and actually enjoy things. He went to movies, went on dates, did fun things without having to worry about things.

Without having to worry about you.

Maybe meeting up with Casey and Devan wasn’t as fun as it originally sounded.

“How’s it going with your girlfriend?” Casey asked. He was the one that did most of the talking, though you had at least finally gotten a few things out of Devan over the course of coffee.

“Good,” you said without hesitation. “It’s going well.”

And it was. Aside from the typical issues with your fucking brain, you couldn’t really ask for more from Wednesday. In public she was still nearly as cold as she had been in Nevermore. Only close enough for people to know the two of you were in the same company. If you hadn’t already agreed to allow her to maintain her scary dog privileges, you would have teased her for the fact that she still stood just a little too close and let her knuckles brush against your thigh.

But in private, it was something entirely different. She still wasn’t incredibly physically loving, which you had known and accepted from the very beginning. No, her love was still something subtle, showing itself in the most subtle of ways. Back in the day, you wouldn’t have thought it would be enough to push past all the beliefs that you would never be loved. But now? No, now you knew it was more than enough; it was exactly what you needed.

“You met her at Nevermore, right?” Casey asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You nodded. “Did you go there?” You asked. “Is that where you met Nicky?”

“Met him at a bookstore,” Devan said. Their gruff voice never failed to surprise you.

“That’s disgustingly cute,” you mumbled before taking a long drink of your coffee. “So you’re Normies?”

Even looking into your cup, you noticed the slightest flinch from Casey.

“We’re shapeshifters,” they said.

“The both of you?” You asked. They nodded. “Haven’t met very many of you.”

“That you know of,” Devan said.

You laughed humourlessly. “Suppose that’s a good point.”

The doors to the little cafe opened, jingling the little bell that hung from the doorframe. You all turned to look to see who was coming in - for no other reason than to be nosey - but your face fell when you saw Wednesday. She looked frazzled; that wasn’t right.

“Wends?” You asked, your head tilting slightly.

She looked around the room, and her shoulders only relaxed after meeting your eyes. But there was still something on her face that you couldn’t quite describe. It wasn’t a typical look for her, far more… uptight? Her knuckles were more pale than usual as she practically ran to where you were sitting.

“You’ve been here the whole time?” She asked you, not even paying attention to Casey or Devan on the other side of the table.

“I mean, after my appointment, but yeah,” you said. “Are you okay?”

“You were here?” She asked again. “You left therapy?”

“Yes, Wednesday, I left therapy,” you said. You shifted until you were facing her from your place in the booth. “What happened?”

She hesitated. And it wasn’t like Wednesday to hesitate.

“Wednesday,” you said, a little louder. Not for the whole cafe to hear, but to grab her attention.

It worked.

“Shaun’s receptionist called a few minutes ago,” she said.

You let out an airy chuckle. “If that’s all, it’s probably because my card declined-”

“-They found a foot in his office.”

Oh. So it wasn’t a courtesy call.

“He was fine when I left,” you said softly, not really even speaking to anyone in particular. “Surely no one just… snuck in, right?”

Wednesday didn’t say anything.

Why was she not saying anything?

“Wednesday,” you said. Your tone sounded harsh; you didn’t mean to. “Did she accuse me?”

She didn’t answer, and it finally clicked what the look on her face was.

It was fear.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday imagine #jenna ortega x reader #everyone but her au

[sublimitymp3]

Yandere Helaena, Alicent, Rhaenyra, and all the guys with a darling that has a cold and is sick? I have one rn and I need comfort lol

I hope u feel better soon anon ‼️

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Helaena would make sure that even in your weakened state, your mood would never be gloomy. Sweet girl would lay in bed next to you and read to you about her favorite plants and bugs. She’d whisper to you as you fall asleep about all her dreams that she has at night, and what she thinks they mean, holding you close as you drift off.

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Alicent would administer any medicine you had to take to you herself, not allowing the maesters to do it. She’d watch you like a hawk, even when you were sleeping; just to make sure that should you need anything, it would be provided. Her motherly instincts would probably kick in as well, and she’d baby you like there was no tomorrow.

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Given her position in power, Rhaenyra would order that all the best maesters from Westeros and Essos should come at once to treat you. She’d hold your hand despite it being rather damp with sweat and would make it her personal mission to see you recover from this illness. Just like Alicent, her motherly instincts would probably kick in too. Any duties would be put off until further notice, right now her only job is to make sure you get better.

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Aegon could care less about anything else he had going on that day, for as soon as he saw that you were ill, he locked himself in your chambers with you. I headcanon Aegon as being naturally warm to the touch, so that would be very convenient if you were having chills. He is all on top of you, not giving a damn about the maester's warnings that he could get sick too from being within such close proximity to you. His health would be an afterthought, you are his top priority right now; not anyone else, or even himself.  

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Aemond is alarmed at the sight of you curled up in your shared bed. He had grown up with his father being very sick, so even though it is just a little cold you have, it stirs something in him. He’d do everything for you, bathe you, dress you, feed you, etc. He’d even go up to the maester’s in charge of caring for you and ask about what teas or other medicines he can make on his own to give you. During the whole time you are sick, you don’t even lift a finger for Aemond is hell-bent on doing things for you that normally you would do for yourself.

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Jace just completely neglects himself. He’s so caught up in worrying and caring for you that he doesn’t make time to cancel meetings or plans. He’d hold you in his arms almost the entire time, and when he wasn’t, he was busy bothering his mother for advice on how to care for you. He’d let the maesters come in and do their thing but he’d be there to oversee that everything they were doing was up to his standards, and if they weren’t, no mercy would be shown. He’d kiss you all over your face whispering about how he would rather burn at the stake than see you suffer.

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Daemon would probably be angry at himself for allowing you to get sick. He’d find out who spread this sickness to you; but would push dealing with that to another day, in favor of caring for you. If you were feeling rather hot, teetering on the verge of having a fever, he’d put you in a lukewarm bath to try and make it go down. He’d climb in behind you and hold you close to him. Daemon’s philosophy is actions speak louder than words, hence why when he does hold you like this, he tucks his face in the crook of your neck and says nothing, allowing you both to relax in the comfort of one another.

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Ser Criston doesn’t have access and power to request the best maester’s to come and care for you or put off his duties, but nonetheless, he would still pull whatever string he could, by any means, to get the time to care for you. He would bring you soups and medicines so you can get better, also making sure you are hydrated. Ser Criston is a determined man, and that will definitely show when you are sick.

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Tag list of 1 💀:  @moonmaiden1996

#hotd x reader #hotd imagine #house of the dragon #helaena targaryen x reader #helaena targaryen #alicent hightower x reader #yandere alicent hightower #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #yandere rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #yandere aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #yandere aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen #jace velaryon x reader #yandere jace velaryon #jace velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #yandere daemon targaryen #Daemon Targaryen #ser criston cole x reader #yandere criston cole #ser criston cole #reactions