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regressionschool · 7 months

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Acceptance? In the softly lit nursery, Odette sat on the cushioned floor, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. She felt utterly helpless, like an oversized toddler trapped in a world that had systematically dismantled her adulthood. The past seemed like a distant memory, a time when she was in control of her life and choices. Her boyfriend, Mark, stood in the doorway, a smug expression playing on his lips. His voice dripped with mockery as he addressed her, relishing in her vulnerability, "What's wrong, little girl? Daddy wants to know."

Odette's sobs intensified, echoing with the frustration and humiliation that had become her constant companions. She hadn't allowed herself to cry when her rights were first taken away, when society decided that women were nothing more than overgrown children. Even when Mark disciplined her with a stern hand, she clung to her adult identity. Tears hadn't fallen during her time at the Regression School, a place that felt more like a sinister laboratory. The heavy sedation, the disorienting awakening to a voice that was now childlike and innocent, the struggle to communicate with a lisp and halting speech—it had all been endured with stoic determination. She had even resisted breaking down when her balance was disrupted, turning her into a toddler-like figure stumbling clumsily through life. The loss of fine motor control, the inability to feed herself without creating a mess—it was all deeply humiliating, yet she maintained her composure.

But the one thing Odette couldn't bear was the loss of her potty training. The Regression School had taken even that from her, leaving her permanently and completely incontinent. Helpless wettings and messings in her nappies had become her new reality, and it was a reality she couldn't accept. The sobs racked her body as she sat in a soaked and soiled nappy, her dignity stripped away. Even the most basic bodily functions were now beyond her control. Mark approached, his fingers gently tugging at the back of her nappy, his face contorting in feigned disgust. He confirmed what Odette already knew. "Uh-oh, it looks like someone has a dirty nappy. Is that why my little girl is crying? Because she wants Daddy to change her stinky bum-bum?"

Odette's response was a heart-wrenching cry, her vulnerability laid bare. She longed for the days of adulthood, for the independence and self-assuredness she once possessed. The nursery walls seemed to close in around her, a constant reminder of her diminished state. Daddy stood there, his arms crossed, a stern look on his face as Odette's cries filled the nursery. He seemed unmoved by her distress, resolved in his conviction that this was the new normal for her. She couldn't understand why he wouldn't change her, why he was subjecting her to this humiliating ordeal. Her voice, now trapped in a perpetual state of childishness, protested with all the strength she could muster. "Daddy, pwease change me! I don' like it! Diapies are for babies!" But Daddy remained resolute, shaking his head. "No, sweetheart. You need to learn that in this world, regressed girls wear diapers. It's normal, and you need to get used to it."

Odette's frustration and helplessness grew. She tugged at the soaked and soiled nappy, feeling utterly defeated. It sagged heavily between her legs, a constant reminder of her loss of control. She struggled to find the right words in her childlike speech, tears rolling down her cheeks as she continued to plead, "But Daddy, I don' wanna be a baby. I wanna be a big girl again." Daddy's expression softened just a fraction, but he remained firm. "I know it's hard, sweetie, but you need to accept your new life. This is who you are now, and there's no going back." Odette's heart ached with longing for the past, for the days when she was an independent woman with her own voice and choices. But as she looked at Daddy's unwavering gaze, she realized that those days were gone. She was now Daddy's little girl, forever trapped in a world of diapers and baby talk, and there was no escape.

#ab/dl caption #ab/dl girl #ab/dl stories #diaper stories #diaper captions #abdreams #regression school #wetting diaper #ab/dl diaper #odette delacroix

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madwomansapologist · 3 months

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my love mine all mine

Meet Kind!Druid!Tav | More Weirdos | AO3

synopsis: It doesn't matter what their first impressions of you were, they certainly did not expect you to be so important in their lifes. And as the days passes, each one of your companions need to understand a simple fact: they love you. They all love you.

warnings: a sequel to that (you don't need to read if you don't want to). song "my love mine all mine" by mitsky for gale. song "class of 2013" by mitsky for karlach. companions (gale, karlach) x druid!tav. background cast (mystra, halsin, lae'zel, shadowheart, selune, astarion, wyll). this game really is about faith and bodily autonomy. hurt/comfort. falling in love.

There is something endless about suffering. Once you felt hunger, nothing can complete that empty spot inside your soul. No amount of hope can ever make you forget about how painful it was to be helplessness. The sun is warm, but not enough to melt winter away from memory.

No brave adult can forget what felt to be a trembling child facing harshness all alone. It would be so much easier to forget how cruel the world was, but all you do is wonder to yourself: why didn't no one helped me? Why didn't no one saved me?

Even the word survivor feels wrong. It implies that something cruel happened in the wild, far away from home. A survivor has a tale to share with pride, scars to proof how strong you became. But sometimes suffering is just suffering, and the wild is your home.

It doesn't end. The suffering doesn't end, even after it does. It haunts you, laughs as you fumble, stains the good moments with sin.

But not with you.

For every time life was painful, you are caring. For everytime it burned and ached, you are gentle. There is something soft about you. No edges to get cut, no harm to be done. You care without shame, and your delicacy is welcome.

It's been long since someone cared for Gale Dekarios. Not for Gale of Waterdeep, the prodigy able to compose the Weave as he so desired, Mystra's lover and worshiper. But for Gale Dekarios, a man and nothing more than that, it's been so long.

Gale's value is his capability to bend the Weave. No one helped him for a reason other that. No one cared, or loved him for something that wasn't his talent or competence.

He was alone, except by Tara, and he got used to it. It's easy to get used to bad things when you think that you deserves them. It's no surprise that he so easily got used to being a dead man walking.

It was fine. Fine that his goddess wouldn't save him, that she would cast him away. Gale took it on himself, he knows that. Sometimes people don't get salvation. Sometimes they don't get a second chance. Sometimes things just end.

But you helped him. You held his hand and pulled him out of stone, unaware that you were actually pulling Gale towards you. You didn't asked for a payment or answers. You just held him.

And Gale held you back.

The world trembled. Poisoned mace. His defenses were already low when the goblin attacked. He knew his party won, but he can't remember how. His conscience was barely a whisper, as uneasy and skittish.

His feet were moving, he could feel it, but Gale wasn't controling them. Darkness devoured him, and the world was reduced to a cold freeze against his face.

"Karlach, you got the first watch," a distorted voice startled him. He wasn't alone. It took Gale a second to understand who was talking. "Halsin, Lae'zel broke her wrist. Shadowheart, follow me."

Gale is half asleep, half dead, but he could recognize that voice anyway. Always demanding, aware of what to do, being right. You. Sweet, caring, loving you.

"Alright, soldier!" Karlach dropped her dripping wet backpack near the fire. Something bumped on his shoulders, and a cry left Gale's lips. "And you get better, mage. I'm counting on you for that!"

Her hand. It was her hand that almost made him collapse. But Gale didn't. That was when he noticed his eyes were closed, and someone was holding him.

Your hands gripping his waist as you tried to walk, your warmth reaching him. He could see a drop of sweat making its way on your neck. Blood staining you silver armor. You smell like... you. He can't describe it in any other way.

"You'll be fine," you whispered. As if you knew his head was about to explode. "We'll take care of you. Close your eyes."

You asked. Gale obeyed.

When he woke up, a black sea stained his vision. He breathed in and out, and understood it was the night sky. Gale stared at the moon, shining down on him, and for a second he though it was staring back.

Gale tried to pray. Would Selune embrace him? If he kneeled and promised his loyalty, would she protect his soul? Gale tried to pray, but no words made to his mind.

When he opened his eyes, you were there. Kneeled beside his bed, so close he could hear you breathing, but looking away. Bright eyes, reflecting the moon, looking down at something. Furrowed brows, lips tense, your shoulder stiff as you moved.

Gale heard the water before he saw the cloth you dipped into it. You agile hands folded it carefully, and placed it on his belly. It was hot. Almost too hot, but you were quick. You pressed it against his skin, and went back to dip it. The white cloth was now stained red.

Oh. You were cleaning him. His eyes noticed the bucket filled with redish fabrics. Gale wondered if cleaning him felt like rubbing wine stains into rugs. If by trying to make it right, you only made it worse. He wouldn't care if you made him worse, not as long as you keep on touching him.

When he reached for your cheeks, Gale didn't even thought about it. He just wanted to touch you, to make sure that you were real.

It startled you, a little gasp escaping your throat. You looked at Gale, analyzing every inch of his face.

For a time, Gale could only look at his hand against your skin. His thumb stroking your cheek, so soft beneath his touch.

"Why are..." that voice wasn't his. It wasn't anything like his. For how long did he slept? "Why are you here?"

You looked at the hand you placed on his waist, and realized how it must be to wake up with someone else touching you. "I was just cleani..."

"That's not what I asked," the mage stopped you. You went back to look at him, and Gale felt your gaze softening his entire being. "Why are you here?"

"I worry about you," you admited. "Specially when you forget what shields are made for."

"Why are you like this?" Gale found himself trying to make whatever was on his mind understandable. That doesn't happen very often. For him to be unsure about his words. "Why do you keep on taking care of me? You don't owe me anything."

"Because you are... you," you went back to cleaning his skin. Gale didn't move his hand, and you didn't seen to mind. "Close your eyes, go back to sleep. You won't even notice I'm here."

With his hand on your cheek, eyes staring at the moon, Gale hoped Selune was staring back.

He don't know what will happen to him after his death. Mystra didn't forgave him, so Gale isn't counting on her protection when his soul is to be judged. But one thing Gale knows: the moon was here before him, and will remain after.

So he prayed. Silently, he begged Selune to protect you. He begged for her to shine on you, the only one who ever made him feel worth something. One day he must die, sooner than later apparently, so he hopes she'll protect you when he's gone.

"Impossible," Gale stroked your jaw. "Utterly impossible."

Every single one of your companions love how sincerely you care for them, but they all see how it can be a problem too. How many times have they told you to not be so welcoming? It makes you you, but it's also the reason why you bleed so often.

How many times have you tried to help someone just to discover they didn't deserve it? How many times will it happens until you finally understand your lesson?

Fainting after a encounter with a ruthless dwarf, Shadowheart thinks it's the best moment to ask you to tone it down, only to be reminded about how you still befriended Astarion even after his introduction. If Wyll explains there is no way you can win this fight, that it isn't even yours, you point at Halsin and he can do nothing but to shut up. And whenever Astarion is a pain in the ass, you explain that mercy and kindness are what brought Karlach to the party.

They are scared for you. No one knows how much pain your heart can take before if finally stops healing. You're kind, and they want you to stay that way, but not if it diminishes your soul. There must be a limit for your hope, and they aren't interest on finding it.

Worried about you hurting yourself, they didn't noticed how that hurted Karlach too.

Few can say they escaped from hell, and even fewer would be stupid enough to not enjoy a second chance. Karlach knows she sounds too distracted at the worst times, too excited when there's nothing to celebrate, but how couldn't she? She won't waste her chance.

If only she could be touched. If she could hug her friends, be near those she loves without hurting them, hold without bruising. If only she could touch you without boiling your precious skin.

Don't matter how affectionate you are, there are thing you just can't do. You showed her only your best sides, so welcoming and caring. After a fight, you rush to check on her. Late at night, you tell stories about your life. When it's peaceful, you show her different ways to tie a know. But you can't touch her.

Karlach thinks you look warm. Not cold. Nothing like distance or indifference. And not hot. Nothing like the infernal machinery inside her chest. You seem peaceful. Calm, in a way that she might never fully comprehend.

You hold Lae'zel's hands to stop her from offending someone. And don't flinch when Astarion pulls you by your waist. It's been some weeks since started to teach Shadowheart how to swim. And Wyll tried to help you with your dance moves. Halsin's hand seem to be glued to your shoulder.

She envies them. Karlach envies everyone that you touch. She just feels so lonely, and she'd already spent too much time pretending not to be. Avernus is behind her, and the person she was there won't ever see daylight again. Karlach is free, and she'll be always true to herself.

Poking the flaming wood with a sticky, trying to make it spread to the others, she was to focused to noticed when you sat beside her by the log. Her mind was somewhere far, far away.

After a few moments, Karlach saw you. She kept herself quiet, just enjoying your presence. As if her silence would make you not want to leave. As if her silence would be enough so she could lay her head at your lap, feel your fingertips undoing the knots on her hair, without burning you in and out.

As she stared at the soon-to-be bonfire, you glared at the sky. You searched on your pockets, looking for a coin, but all you found was a forgotten jasper. It'll do the trick. "Jasper for your thoughts, Mama K?"

Karlach looked at you. "What, soldier?"

"You're quiet today," you said. "Too quiet. Let me help you. If you want to talk, I want to hear. If you want to kick some butts, my boots are ready. So, jasper for your thoughts?"

She opened her hands, and you dropped the crystal on it. Karlach played with it for a second, amused by your words. "I'm tired," she said. "Of not touching. Or being touched. I know I'm not alone but... sometimes I can't help but to feel like that. Even Mama K has her moments."

She has so much love to give. Just like you. If only she could give it as freely as you do. Karlach respects you for it. For trying to be better, don't matter how much it hurts you. Scars are signs of bravery, just as pieces of broken hearts.

You think it's worth the cost, and so does Karlach.

"One day," you breathed in. Looking at the fire, you saw why Karlach was so interest on it. Don't matter how much you learn, it still looks magic. "I will braid your hair. Massage your shoulders. Wash your back. Teach you archery, my chest against you back and my hand holding yours. Take the eyelash that fell on your cheeks. Straighten your necklace. I will let lips do what hands do."

You turned to her, with a beaming smile on your face and wet eyes. "But for now, can you wait? Can you dream for a few months more, until we find a solution? Because I swear, Karlach, I will find one. Don't matter if I'll need to walk throught the Nine Hells. I will find a cure for you."

"Damn, soldier," Karlach hissed. Maybe it was the light, but her eyes were redish. You did the noble thing and pretend to not have seen the tears. "You really are the sweetest hero around."

"So don't think you're alone anymore!" You suppressed the urge to punch her arm. Scratch brought you a red ball, and you caressed him. "I'm here. We all are."

And that's one thing they all will be forced to understand: they are not alone. Not anymore.

Part 3!

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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stupittmoran · 5 months

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In 1992 a man that had no record of violence whatsoever was approached and entrapped by the feds illegally.

After he was sent the wrong court date and failed to show up, his innocent son, dog, and wife (while holding their infant daughter) were all slaughtered because of it.

Randy Weaver and his family lived in an isolated cabin in the mountains of Ruby Ridge, Idaho.

An undercover federal agent targeted him and entrapped him into selling him a sawed-off shotgun.

The agent ingratiated himself to Weaver for weeks. He kept asking Weaver if he would sell him a shotgun. Weaver initially hesitated but finally agreed. Then, the agent asked him if he could saw it off first since he didn't have the tools. Though he warned FBI guy it was illegal to do so, he was nice enough to do it anyway. The agent then also had him drive out of the way across State lines to add charges.

After Weaver was sent the wrong court date and (understandably) failed to show up, the feds used this as permission to do anything and everything they could to take him down.

Marshals called in military aerial reconnaissance and had photos studied by the Defense Mapping Agency. They prowled the woods around Weaver’s cabin with night-vision equipment. They had psychological profiles performed and installed $130,000 worth of long-range solar-powered spy cameras. They intercepted the Weavers’ mail. They even knew the menstrual cycle of Weaver’s teenage daughter, and planned an arrest scenario around it.

On August 21, Marshals outfitted in full camouflage and carrying machine guns trespassed onto the Weavers’ property. Three marshals circled close to the Weaver cabin and threw rocks to provoke the Weavers’ dogs. As Weaver’s 14-year old son, Sammy, and Kevin Harris, a family friend, ran towards the barking, a marshal shot and killed his dog. Sammy Weaver fired in the direction those shots came from. As he was leaving the scene, a marshal shot him in the back and killed him. Harris responded by fatally shooting a federal marshal who had fired seven shots at them.

Snipers from the FBI Hostage Rescue Team were sent in the next day and ordered to shoot to kill any adult male outside the Weaver cabin. Randy Weaver was shot in the back after he stepped out of his cabin. As he struggled to return back inside, they shot and killed Vicki Weaver (his wife), who was standing in the cabin door holding their 10-month old baby.

From the testimony of Randy Weaver: "On August 22, 1992, completely without warning of any kind, an FBI sniper shot and killed my wife, Vicki. He was using a .308 caliber sniper rifle with a specially weighted barrel and a 10-power scope. He was using match grade ammunition. He had years of training to kill. I heard him testify at the trial that he wanted to kill. He shot my wife in the head and killed her. She was not wanted for any crime. There were no warrants for her arrest. At the time she was gunned down, she was helpless. She was standing in the doorway of her home. She was holding the door open for me and Sara and for Kevin Harris. She was holding Elishe a our 10-month-old baby girl, in her arms. As the bullet crashed through her head, she slumped to her knees, holding Elisheba tightly so she would not drop her. We took the baby from her as she lay dead and bleeding on our kitchen floor."

Weaver and Harris, who never fired any shots at FBI agents, surrendered after an 11-day siege.

Thankfully after all of this was said and done, the FBI conducted an "internal investigation" and guess what? They did nothing wrong. SHOCKER.

Randy Weaver and his daughters filed a wrongful death suit for $200 million which was related to the killing of his wife and son. In an out-of-court settlement in August 1995, the federal government awarded Randy Weaver $100,000 and it also awarded $1 million to each of his three daughters.

The government did not admit that it had committed any wrongdoing in relation to the deaths of Sammy and Vicki.

The moral of the story is, if the government wants to kill you, they'll find a way to do it. They are not your friend. They do not have your best interests at heart.

If you are an enemy of the state, if they don't like you, the Constitution seemingly doesn't apply.

These federal agencies (FBI, CIA, ATF, USMS, etc.) Do whatever they want, stay in power indefinitely, and have effectively unlimited funds. Not only should they be defunded, they should be abolished entirely. They do nothing but make us less safe and are wholly incompatible with a free society.

The fact that people want to give the government more power, more control, and take away our means of defense (gun control) is absolutely beyond me. If they could pull this off in the 90's they can do it now. I assure you.

Never give up your guns. Your government will kill you.

Dylan Allman on Twitter/X

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buccini555 · 10 months

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I had in mind smut step dad bonten Kokonoi x step-daughter reader. Mother went on trip so reader was in bonten's hideout with koko. And it would be lovely to do aftercare and maybe when they go to that one room where bonten members spend time together??

Thanks have a lovely day^^

𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬♡𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 - 𝐊𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞

≡ Kokonoi x step daughter reader

⌕ x r e a d e r!

♡... 𝑭𝒕. Kokonoi Hajime (Bonten!)

⚠︎!! explicit s♡x, petnames(kitten, little doll, baby girl), mention of bl♡wj♡b, unpr♡tected s♡x, curse words (b♡tch, f♡ck..) and creampie, I think that's all

I'm not good at writing about this... but I hope you like <3

... You were in one of bonten's hideouts with your dear stepfather Kokonoi, your mother had gone on a trip and would be away for months, for that reason, even if you are already an adult and know how to take care of yourself, Kokonoi would have to take care of you, and of course, the most old boy loved the fact that he couldn't take his eyes off you.

You used to tease and excite him without feeling any remorse, and this day was no different, while Hajime was busy doing his work, you sat on his lap watching those huge amounts of money he made in a matter of seconds in front of you to any computer, as soon as you sat on the oldest's lap, you started to press your body against Kokonoi's, who even at that moment, didn't care about your advances, until, after a few minutes, he closed the tabs of his navigator and concentrated and grabbed your waist, you just wore a mini skirt and a lace blouse, your body was almost completely exposed in those clothes, this fact made Hajime even more excited with you sitting on his lap.

"What do you want, kitten? Tell me" He whispered in your ear, gently caressing your beautiful face and then running his hand over your perfect body.

You remained silent, with only a slight mischievous smile stamped on your beautiful delicate face.

"Don't you get tired of teasing me while I'm working? You already got me excited again, baby girl" The oldest scolded you, of course not with the intention of making you stop what you were doing, quite the contrary, he really enjoyed being authoritarian with his girl.

He lifted you up, gently placing you on the table where he worked, giving you a brief kiss, holding you even tighter around your waist.

"Be a good girl hmm? Be a good girl for me"

You couldn't tell how excited he was and wanted to fuck you right there, but, he wouldn't do it in that spot, Kokonoi didn't like to make you feel uncomfortable for that reason, he was always as affectionate as possible.

"Come here, little doll, I'll take you to a more comfortable place, You're not going to enjoy being fucked in this rustic office, are you?"

You ignored him, continuing to kiss him insistently, however, the taller one picked you up and gently carried you to the hall where the other Bonten members gathered seasonally, that place was clearly more comfortable, Kokonoi had the time in mind of each member, then, I was absolutely sure that no one would arrive at the time.

"Tell me, do you still want to be my little bitch?" He cupped your face, putting a lot of force on your lips, at that moment, making you look helpless, you just looked at him with desire in your eyes, seeing him smile maliciously at you.

You just nodded your head in affirmation, then Kokonoi made you open his belt, making you realize again how excited he was.

"Suck it... You're begging for this, aren't you? Mmm..."

Without hesitation, you took that whole cock in your mouth, making him let out a few small moans while gently pushing his head, he also wouldn't hesitate to make you put the whole cock down his throat, so, you just continued your work being a good girl for Kokonoi.

"Y-yeah, Y-yeah!.. My little bitch! D-damn you're so good at this, who the fuck taught you how to suck a cock that good?

After a few minutes, he stopped pushing your head against his cock, making you stand up, he gave you a small smile and by the time you were lying face down on top of the table where the meetings were held, you were already wet all over enough to receive it, he made sure to jerk you off before thrusting himself in you, of course, as always, Hajime behaved like a gentleman, so he got you super stimulated, horny as fuck, how he liked it, he prepared to fuck you, the least you expected and thought that he would have a break to rest, he stuck his cock all the way and once in your pussy, without warning he started to fuck you, pulling your hair and occasionally slapping you, making you let out loud moans and a few small screams. "You didn't beg for that shit? Now hold on baby" with each thrust he repeated that you belonged to him, making you get even more turned on. "Y-you're mine, my little bitch, arg!" After a few long minutes of fucking in the same position, he stopped for a few seconds and made you turn around, he caressed your face and gave you a small kiss on the forehead before getting back into the act, as soon as he started filling your pussy again, he together began to caress your breasts, it was undeniable how much Kokonoi is affectionate with you in those moments.

"F-fuck, baby, I-im cumming!" when he finally reached his peak, the oldest just poured his "love" inside your pussy without any worries.

"I love to see my milk flow from that delicious pussy, you know that, I can't control myself."

"I will always take care of my girl" after finishing the act, seeing that you were tired, he helped you get dressed again, made you sit in one of the armchairs until you recovered and then help you take a shower, Koko showered you with kisses on the forehead and did his best to make you feel loved.

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some-pers0n · 2 months

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Okay fuck it Sunny disability metaphor time.

Sunny's arc is about her infantilization and being perceived as weak and incapable of greater feats due to her disabilities. Throughout the books, she's seen by others as being a nonthreat and unable to do so much as even lay a talon on another. Even by her closest friends and family, she's seen as somebody to protect. Somebody who cannot fend for themselves and is just a soft, optimistic soul in a cruel world.

Sunny was hatched without a barb and is significantly smaller than other dragons. Despite her still being capable of fire and able to go toe-to-toe with the other DoD members like Clay, she is often perceived as weaker and the "little sister" of the group that everyone needs to protect. They talk over her when planning and oftentimes. They don't consciously do this, they definitely don't mean any harm, but they are convinced that Sunny is powerless and inable to fully contribute to the group in the same way Starflight can with his intelligence or Tsunami with her strength.

Sunny doesn't like this. She's kind and gentle about it, but she is sick of being treated as a little kid. She's almost an adult by the time her book happens. For all of her life, she's been seen as a tiny little ankle-biter. Because of her disabilities, she's often held back and seen as less valuable of an asset to the group. By others outside of the DoD, she's seen as completely harmless (and in Scarlet and Burn's case, a perfect little subject to kill and put on display)

Her book is about her, for the first time, being alone without the DoD by her side. She's able to open her wings and fly freely. It comes after the heartbreak of the prophecy reveal, but she persists. She has hope for a future where she can still end the war.

I think it's why it's important that the first friendly face she saw in TBN was Six-Claws, a character who also has physical abnormalities. Somebody who was just like her in that sense. She's met somebody like her. A dragon hatched with things they had no control over. Despite all of the challenges and hardships he faced, Six-Claws is a well-respected dragon. Somebody who she herself looks up to.

Sunny spends the book struggling with how others perceive her. They think she's weak. Even Thorn, her mother, sees her as helpless and incapable of fending for herself. Though, over the course of the book, she eventually builds herself up in the eyes of those around her as a dragon more than competent enough to handle the situation presented to her.

By the end of the book, she's made her peace. She's told the DoD how she feels and, in turn, they respect her more. She doesn't hold anger towards them– she's not the type of soul to have grudges or be angry– but she is happy that they've changed for the better. She is capable. She should be taken as seriously as any other. She's, well, Sunny. Not some tiny baby to pity.

#If I see one of you people call her an uwu cinnamon roll I'm going for the jugular #sp-rambles #wof #wings of fire #sunny wof #Also pspspspspss I love reblogs on these somewhat longer rambles #It does mean a lot if you can do it :]

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alexawynters · 4 months

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Scarlet Whispers pt 4

Gif not mine

A/N: Sorry this chapter is so short. Might upload ch 5 early as an apology. Not super thrilled with how this chapter turned out but after re-writing it a dozen times, I am waiving the white flag.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Trigger warnings (let me know if I forgot to tag anything): Mentions of past child abuse, ongoing adult child abuse, stalking, horror, dubcon, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, gaslighting, angst, smut. There will be bits of fluff tho.

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Masterlist with parts 1-3 here

Chapter Four

The next few days pass by for Wanda and Y/N in a manner similar to those that came before. With the humdrum nature of her days bleeding together Y/N finds herself becoming under-stimulated. It's not that she doesn't enjoy the time she spends with Wanda, or the endless stream of video games and media the witch provides for her. It's just that Y/N can only handle so much of the monotony that has recently become her life. Unfortunately, this leads to her becoming agitated, and restless. Unintentionally, her responses to Wanda become terse and short which eventually, such attitude becomes too much for Wanda to handle.

"Is there something you want to tell me, malyshka?" she asks one morning, voice full of exasperation. It's evident that she is frustrated with your behavior, but instead of yelling, Wanda wants to understand where her sweet, well mannered girl had gotten to.

"You're barely eating, you've hardly said anything to me all week, and when you do, it's been borderline rude. I've done everything I can to provide you with almost everything you could ever want. So please, tell me, what's wrong? Why are you pulling away from me? What more must I do, dorogoya?!"

At first, you're startled by her outburst, but you realize that she's right. You haven't been fair to her - Wanda has been generous enough to provide you with almost everything materialistic you could ever want and need. It's not her fault that you weren't communicating your other wants and needs, which don't solely revolve around physical possessions. You have the decency to look sheepish, knowing that you have messed up.

“I’m sorry, Wands,” your voice meek as you cast your eyes to the ground in shame, completely missing how the witch melts at the nickname. “I just.. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m..”

You hesitate as you try to think of how to phrase what you want to convey without coming off as ungrateful for Wanda’s efforts. A vague sense of déjà vu slithers darkly across your thoughts before you quickly shake it off, continuing. "I'm bored."

Dreading what you will find, you raise your eyes to catch Wanda’s and find her staring at you, perplexed, but open, seeking to understand where you are coming from.

“You’re… bored?” She asks you, confirming.

A sharp nod. “I’m just not used to this much free time, I guess?” Shoulders lift and then drop in a helpless shrugging motion. “I love spending time with you, don’t get me wrong,” you reassure her. “But every day it’s the same thing, and I’m used to a little more.. variety, I guess..?”

Wanda remains silent for a few minutes, seemingly considering your words carefully before responding. She takes so long that you start to wonder if you have inadvertently offended her, thinking you have asked too much of her.

“So what you’re saying is that you want a little adventure to break up the routine, is that right, detka?” Her voice is surprisingly light, almost teasing.

Relief floods your body as you realize Wanda isn't upset with you, and the smile you give her in return could be described as blinding. She understands! Before you can ask if you can go to the mall or do something else, Wanda speaks again, her mouth lifting at the corners in thinly veiled amusement.

"You know, Y/N, I am a witch. I could bring your, what do you call them, 'fandoms'? To life with just a wave of my hand, if you would like? Just for a little while, at least." Wanda offers, with a teasing lilt to her voice.

Y/E/C eyes stare at her incredulously, and you can't believe it never occurred to you to even ask her that. Belatedly recalling what your new home used to look like when you first arrived, and you realize that you probably vastly underestimated what the witch was capable of.

“I-um-really?!” you stutter, intelligently.

Wanda can't help but let out a warm, affectionate chuckle at your adorable reaction. Her eyes sparkle with amusement as a pale hand rises, adorned with scarlet wisps that wrap around it. Her eyes flash the same color.

Wanda was thrilled to discover that instead of leaving her behind for your fantasy adventures, you insisted on her accompanying you every single time. Initially she had expected to create your own little world for you and let you explore freely, while she continued working in her garden, occasionally checking on you to ensure you were having fun. However, in reality, as soon as Wanda finished creating whichever environment you had chosen for the week, you would eagerly take her hand and embark on your exploration of the new world together. Throughout the journey, you would excitedly explain every little thing you encountered, clearly intent on sharing the experience with Wanda and wanting her to enjoy it as much as you did.

“So what will it be today, котёнок?”

What truly warmed her heart was that despite knowing that none of her constructs were real and had no capability of harming either of you, you treated every situation as though it were actually happening. The witch enjoyed watching you blossom in your confidence within this safe environment she had created for you. For example, when a storm trooper attempted to fire upon both of you as you crept through the Imperial base, you didn't hesitate to pull Wanda down and cover her body with yours, even though the blaster fire wasn't real. Other times you would lead her, hand in hers, through the mines of Moria, trying to outrun goblins and a Balrog, screaming and laughing the entire way, never letting go even once.

The witch knew that she would love any version of you, but she hadn't anticipated just how charming this version of you would be. Yes, you needed some work on building your confidence, but Wanda was more than willing to support you in exchange for these precious moments together. The way you looked at her, as if she were your entire world, spoke volumes. Though you hadn't expressed it yet, Wanda was fairly confident in your feelings for her, even if you weren't. Progress was slow but steady, and she had already decided she would wait for you indefinitely if necessary. The concept of forever didn't seem so distant when you held onto her at every opportunity.

Like now for instance, both of you are hiding behind a support beam in the cargo bay of the spaceship the Nostromo, waiting for a stalking xenomorph to pass by, hopefully leaving you both unnoticed. While it isn't strictly necessary, your body is pressing Wanda’s back further into the cool metal of a support beam. You yourself aren’t entirely sure if this was primarily to keep both of you hidden from the creepy alien prowling the halls, or because you suddenly craved her warmth. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess, with both wants on a surface level, unintentionally calling out to the witch.

Wanda's warm breaths gently graze your skin, creating a subtle zephyr carrying her comforting essence. The warmth envelops both of you, an intimate cocoon that seems to ignore the danger posed by the xenomorph. Unexpectedly you find yourself wishing to forget the game, as the woman in front of you now holds far more interest than the alien you are hiding from.

The proximity becomes palpable, a tangible bridge between the pair of you navigating the delicate space between friendship and something more. A moment suspended in time, filled with the promise of closeness. Unbeknownst to you, you have begun leaning closer to Wanda. Her lips are a tantalizing temptation, and as you look into her eyes, you are surprised to see them shimmering with what even you could define as longing.

Right before your lips touch, you hear the inhuman screech of a Xenomorph, the sound like metal scraping against bone, coming from a nearby hall. Startled, both of you quickly spring apart from each other, a scream almost tearing itself from your lungs in surprise. Your hand, however, is still holding onto Wanda's.

The moment is ruined, and you can't tell if you're disappointed or relieved. Were you just about to kiss her? Was she about to let you? Your mind is filled with chaos while Wanda's is filled with disappointment. You were so close this time. She could only go at your pace, but gods, this was... You missed the red glare she sent in the direction of the alien as you looked in the same direction in fear. Despite the witch's frequent reassurances that none of the constructs could harm you, it didn't mean you weren't still afraid of all things sharp and pointy.

Still hand in hand, you guide Wanda through the ship towards the end of the game. Each simulation she created for you was unique, with different goals and objectives. In this particular scenario, to make it less frightening for you, Wanda emphasized stealth - your only task is to evade the alien and reach the escape pod without harm. Despite a few intense moments, you ultimately succeed in escaping, and Wanda ends her magic. The two of you laugh and giggle at how you cleverly outsmarted the Xenomorph, counting this as an undeniable win.

That night, while Wanda was embracing you from behind as she so often did, you couldn't help but think back to the intimate moment you had shared earlier that day. A part of you wanted to ask her about it, to understand her thoughts on the matter. You weren't adept at picking up context clues, and it would put you at ease to know where she stood. Nevertheless, you were quite certain that the expression in her eyes earlier could only be described as raw desire, and the thought sent a shiver down your spine.

Maybe she really did want you the way she wanted your Avenger variant.

Maybe you wanted her to want you that way.

Maybe you wanted her that way too.

You drifted off to sleep happy, if slightly less confused than you had been lately, in her arms.

A/N 2: Please let me know what you think about this, the pacing, the storyline, is it terrible, is it tolerable? Should I just throw it all out and start over?? If you wanna be added to the taglist, just comment here and I will endeavor to add you :3

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop

#Wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #dark wanda x reader

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bunwritesss · 1 month

Text

Daryl realizing that you have no sense of directions (based on my life because I spend my days getting lost and needing Google maps and I just know living without it would be hell 😭)

It starts at the Quarry, with you always getting lost and forgetting where Dale's RV is, or needing help to remember where the clothes are hung. Merle always teases you and Daryl follows, snickering as he watches you wandering around. During these times, Carl is your best friend. This kid is always so happy and proud to help an adult, taking your sleeve and leading you where you need to be.

Years later, at Alexandria, he finds it just as funny as he used to. He teases you a bit, and always ends up leading you where you need to be.

During runs, he makes sure to be in your group. He knows that keeping an eye on you is crucial, and does not trust anyone else but him (and maybe Glenn, Carol or Rick) to do that. You're not completely helpless and he knows you know how to fend for yourself, but he also does not want you to be separated from the group.

He knows explaining verbally where to get somewhere is no use, and he ends up "needing to take a walk" many times when you first arrive in Alexandria, just to make sure you know the place. He takes you from house to house, making sure you know where everything is situated, just to appease his own mind.

If someone makes fun of you in a mean way, he'll get defensive really quick, especially if they aren't someone from your original group. And if it's someone from your group teasing you kindly, he'll read your body language and either tease you with them or ask them to stop, depending on your reaction.

He's so supportive and always tries to help you as best as he can <333 Plus, he's a hunter and a tracker so lending you his amazing sense of directions is no trouble at all <33

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon headcanons #the walking dead imagine #daryl x reader #bun writes

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cheesecakezyum · 1 year

Note

I just found your blog and I am LOVING the Wukong content. I was hoping to request some smut headcanons (maybe alphabet hcs- if you feel up to it). I completely understand ty! <333

NSFW Alphabet ; Sun Wukong

Please do not click the ‘keep reading’ option if you are under the age of 18. Adults only, please! :)

Welcome to my page! I’m ecstatic that you’re enjoying what I’m providing <3 Doing alphabet headcanons are actually some of my favorites!

Mainly because it helps me with future pieces of writing (smut ofc) — like a cheat sheet almost!

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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He loves to hold you in general, so after a session of utter passion? It’s tripled. He’ll sometimes want to keep his cock buried in you overnight if you’re up for it and continue from where you two left off the next morning.

He’s not too big on cleaning himself personally after sex (like the absolute gremlin he is), but he’ll begrudgingly set a warm bath for you if that’s what you want! You’ve explained UTI’s and yeast infections to him, which is why he no longer complains about keeping his semen inside you as long as he can.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his tail. I mean, it’s like a third hand! Another tool to balance himself, grab things, and especially bring you to him when he’s needy.

He personally loves your ears. They’re so cute and small compared to his! Sometimes you’ll catch him fiddling with your earlobes. He also enjoys the noises you make when he nibbles on them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It turns him on extremely seeing you covered in his cum— legs spread, ever so slightly trembling as you’re leaking with his semen, your face twisted into an expression of pure bliss. It’s enough to get him riled up all over again.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has a Owner/Property kink that even to this day hasn’t publicly told you about. You found out yourself after a certain rigorous handjob when he basically begged you to let him cum, ending his plead with master.

Praise kink too, but he’s a bit more open with that.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

At first he may seem clumsy, but he’s simply learning what makes your body tick. After maybe 3-4 sessions expect him to have your anatomy and personal pleasures memorized to the tea. Every whimper, moan— it’s all a sign to let him know that he should keep the ministrations going.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

The mating press.

His main interest is the deeper penetration aspect of the position. He also loves the look of your helpless face every time he presses into you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Pretty goofy! But Wukong knows when to switch the mood to make it better for you both. One minute he’ll be joking to you about a show playing in the background and the next will be eating you out like you’re the last meal he’ll ever have.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

This man is 100% a hobo. Although being filled with body hair already (cause, y’know. Monkey?) he has a pretty clean happy trail which matches the ash orange color of his mane!

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He won’t have sex with you unless there’s at least some sort of feelings in the mix. Whether they’re unspoken or not it’s something that’s always there. He’s not there just to fuck, he wants to make love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Doesn’t masturbate often. He’d have to really be in the mood, but even still— he has trouble concentrating when it’s only imagination. If he ever does though, you’d be the only thing on his mind. Maybe a picture, or a voicemail would do.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding. It’s instinctual for him to have reproductive urges; The idea of stuffing you full of his cum to be the future carrier of his children is quite appealing to the simian.

Marking. He likes both you and everyone else to know who you belong to. Whether it be carrying your scent with him— or the many bites littered around your body. He thinks it’s like taking a park of him with you.

Cockwarming. While it can be seen as torture for both parties, he adores the way you slowly break down above him. A simple shift of the hips enough to make such deliciously crude noises escape from those pretty lips. It makes sex that much more gratifying if there’s at least a bit of a wait.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a bit more comfortable if you guys have some type of privacy, considering the entirety of Flower Fruit Mountain is littered with primates. So a bedroom or bathroom would do.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Being the big spoon. While it may start as sweet and lighthearted before you know it he’ll be slowly pressing his clothed erection into you, huffing softly and asking if you’re up for a round or two.

Your own moans. He’ll work hard as hell if it means by the end of the night you’re screaming his name, begging for more— to go even harder.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Degradation/Humiliation.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers to definitely give. He finds his own pleasure in yours!

Let’s just say he knows how to use his tongue quite well. This can go back to E; He knows what you need to reach your climax and he’s more than happy to give it to you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and rough. Wukong wants to feel your walls clenching every single time he’s just about to pull out, only to thrust back in without a care in the world.

As his peak eventually reaches though— he will often try to chase it with a faster, sloppier pace. ONLY if he knows you’re both close.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

While he does like to take his time with you, quickies are a pretty common occurrence when you’re with Wukong. In a certain spot with few wandering eyes? He’ll lift you up against the wall and pound into you.

In a certain position while your cleaning? On the counter you go. Just sucks that you have to pick up even more of a mess after.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Not too fancied on the idea of trying something new unless he has somewhat of an idea of what’s gonna go down. He doesn’t want to be left in the dark, and communication is especially key for this monkey.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

His stamina is as big as his ego. This man could go fucking you a whole night if it meant filling you up to the brim.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t have any toys, and isn’t too fond of buying any simply because he doesn’t know where? Like???

If you have your own, though, he’d be more than happy to hear how to use them and spice up your tango just a bit more.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Humiliation really isn’t his game, but he loves to mention how destroyed you look under him— asking you to tell him just what you want him to do while he’s hovered over you.

It just gives him a bit of pride to know that he can make you into such a mess. You lustful deviant you!

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

I don’t think he’d be necessarily loud. The trembling quiver of his voice as he breathes out your name— the occasional curse.

He’d have to be pretty wound up in order to raise that voice of his. It’s not necessarily impossible! The stroke of his tail is a pretty quick way to get an unprepared whore moan out of him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

It’s like he’s constantly in the honeymoon phase when he’s with you. Pet names like hun, sweetie, peaches, schnookums even. His corniness is sickeningly addictive.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Sleeper build. He doesn’t look necessarily ripped at first glance with all those robes but a good feel of those thighs or biceps shows that even thousands of years later, he’s in great shape.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High, very high. Maybe not at first; jumping straight into sex after building a relationship just isn’t him. One taste of that pie, however, and suddenly he can’t seem to get enough of you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He doesn’t fall asleep immediately after sex. It’s certainly tempting, but he’d much more prefer taking care of you, taking in the moment and making sure you’re okay.

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Maneskin has been my go-to for music while I’m writing, especially spicier prompts/ideas I have yet to publish ;D

Definitely give their new album a listen if you’re interested!

#lego monkie kid #lmk #monkie kid #sun wukong #lmk x reader #sun wukong x reader #wukong x reader #lmk wukong x reader #lego monkie kid sun wukong #I am spitting these requests out like #there’s no tomorrow man woah #this is probs gonna be my last #at least until I finish the first chapter of #my other fic #anyways #EEE MY GREMLIN MONKEY HUSBAND

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ametrictonofaudacity · 3 months

Note

Okay so consider!!!

Yandere platonic Geralt!! Generally very cool!! Very nice!! But if you fuck up you have to deal with (what you have dubbed) the get along cuff. Which is literally him just making you sleep next to him and tying your leg to his with a bit of leather cord. It’s thin so he can easily snap it if there’s a danger, but he’ll wake up if you move it.

Also Jaskier being completely fine and okay with this would be hilarious, I would love to see you write a scenerio!! (Idk why but I picture a modern reader, like one who got dropped in the Witcher from the modern world)

I love this ask!! I also love the trope of a modern character in a medieval setting, I think it was all the ‘Modern Girl IN Middle Earth’ fanfics I read (an actual tag on ao3) so I have a weakness for it!! Also Jaskier just going ‘eh’ is so funny to me.

Warnings: forced proximity, captivity, kidnapping, some level of being infantalized, being tied to another person as a form of being restrained, future Stockholm syndrome. Jaskier is complicit, up to you whether he is also a yandere or not. Also the fact Geralt can smell emotions

“You know this could be like, an actual danger?”

You try and reason your way out of your situation, like reason has ever worked on Geralt before. He ignores you, mostly, concentrating on tying the knot around your wrist in a manner that you cannot undo the knot but it also didn’t cut off your circulation. He slips a finger under the cord, testing the knot and the cords strength, and you hear him make a satisfied rumble. You were still getting used to that, to the various sounds the Witcher made to express emotion.

“No it’s not. The cord’s thin, and if I have to fight I can snap it easily. Plus this area doesn’t normally have monsters, not this time of year.”

He stands, towering over you from you spot on the ground, near the fire, and you tilt your face up. The yellow light throws his features into a harsh countenance, makes his face all angles and scars, golden eyes reflecting the light the way a predators would as he glared down at you, scowling. You tighten your fingers in the wool cloak he had given you, so long ago, the fibers catching in your nails.

He must see something in your gaze, or maybe it’s the way you know you probably reek of anxiety right now, but his stance softens, the scowl melting away into something softer, not a smile because you knew he was still very, very upset with you, but not a harsh frown that made you feel small and stupid and like all the things he thought about you were true.

He crouches, making himself smaller next to you, and you feel your shoulders start to unwind. It was strange, being around someone who was so perceptive to your emotions, but seemingly had no clue how to address or handle them, beyond his own instincts as a Witcher and his limited interpersonal skills. His very limited interpersonal skills.

Seriously. You were pretty sure the guy only had two friends.

“You’re going to try and run again. Maybe not tonight, but I clearly can’t trust you to behave without me keeping my eye on you at all times. Since I can’t do that while I’m asleep, this is the solution.”

He motions to the thin leather cord, and you scowl, face twisting into something you know is ugly but doing it anyways. He wouldn’t be intimidated, you knew, he seemed to view you as some helpless kid, even though you were a fully grown adult who had been attending college.

“You wouldn’t have to watch me if you just let me go, Geralt. You can’t… you can’t just not let someone go home, that’s not right.”

You snap, fingers burying further into the cloak to stave off the chill that was only getting colder, creeping up your arms and legs to your torso and making you shiver. It had just gotten dark, the little fire Geralt built crackling away and too small to provide much warmth but rapidly gaining strength, and you shiver, leaning toward the fire and away from the Witcher.

“We’re not having this conversation again. You can’t survive out there on your own.”

Your face flushes, angry, and you bury your face further into the cloak. He had a point, to some extent. You weren’t used to the world of the Witcher, with its monsters and it’s hardships, weren’t used to the roughness of medieval life and all of its struggles. You were used to the modern world, where distances could be travelled by car, not horse, and you didn’t have to endure biting cold in the winter and blazing heat in the summer.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t at least try, Geralt. What kinda person would I be if I didn’t at least try to get home?” You protest, and there’s the sound of rustling, a muttered curse. Looks like Jaskier was back with wood.

“Ah. Seems I walked into a horribly tense situation.”

Jaskier remarks, but his voice is light, not taking your predicament seriously, even as his eyes land on the tether around your wrist and Geralt’s as he feeds wood into the fire, which licks up the logs and sticks eagerly, hungry for fuel. You scowl, face buried in the cloak to hide your sour mood as much as possible. Geralt didn’t care if you were pisses off or not, he cared when you were afraid not when you were mad, but Jaskier would do everything in his power to pull you out of your bad mood. From telling stories to playing little tavern songs, he would be relentless in making sure you cracked a smile at least once, and you didn’t feel like having to endure the bards attempts to cheer you up right now.

“Is tying them to you really necessary though, Geralt? They look like a kicked pup, can’t you be a bit more lenient?”

Jaskier wheedles, and wow, he might actually be your favorite person right now. You peek up from the fold of the cloak, and he’s got a hand on a hip, shifting his weight with a concerned frown. He looks entirely disapproving of the whole thing, which makes your heart soar. Maybe he would actually be able to get Geralt to listen to him.

“They’re lucky I don’t tie them on Roach all day.” Geralt grumbles, setting up the bed rolls. You could feel every small movement he made, the motion tugging gently on the thin tether.

“Oh you grump. Stop being so rude.” Jaskier huffs, sitting next to you, and you quietly despair how easily he gave in, how quickly he yielded to what Geralt wanted to do. You tuck your face back into the cloak, dejected.

“Hey now, it isn’t all bad. There are worse places to sleep. I can recall a few of them myself.”

Jaskier’s hand lands on your shoulder, and you glare, annoyed. You didn’t want company, or comfort, or any of it. You wanted one thing, and it was something that the both of them were denying you.

Jaskier, because he was Jaskier, seemingly didn’t notice. Which wasn’t the greatest.

“Yeah, sure, I guess. Never slept tied to somebody, though.” You say pointedly, and the annoyed rumble Geralt gives is almost worth it. Sharp gold eyes narrow at you slightly, before Geralt huffs, turning back to his task.

“I have! Well, it was more I had been knocked unconscious, but it still applies, I think! And those ropes were rather coarse, my wrists were aching for days!” Jaskier recalls. “Geralt had to rescue me, it was quite the adventure. I wrote a song about it, at some point, although I never published it. I really should rework that song, actually, come to think of it.”

He rambles, his voice filling the tense silence between you and Geralt, and you feel your shoulders start to relax. He was good at that, chattering to fill the silence that would drag on for hours between the two of you if it wasn’t for him. You sigh quietly, leaning into the warm hand clasped on your shoulders as the fire grows in strength, the bedrolls almost fully prepared.

“Alright. Jaskier, you take first watch, and I’ll take over in an hour or so.” There must not be many monsters around, you think, for Geralt to be so comfortable letting Jaskier take watch. Jaskier nods, slipping away your side as Geralt approaches.

“Not a problem! I was feeling wired tonight anyways, a few more hours though and I should be able to sleep well enough.” Jaskier agrees amicably. “Although I am a bit surprised, you normally insist on first watch.”

“Wanna get (Y/N) down.” Geralt huffs, and Jaskier nods.

“Fair enough, I suppose. They are criminally lacking in the sleep department, they’re beginning to get bags, poor thing.”

You scowl at Jaskier, annoyed.

“I’ve had these since middle school, first of all, not my fault I have insomnia.” You scowl, and jerk when Geralt all but drags you to the bed roll, barely waiting for you to finish talking.

“Hey!” You protests, annoyed, but he’s too busy ‘getting you settled’ as he liked to call it. Fussing over the blankets and the best roll, making sure your body was protected from the harsh winds that even the fire couldn’t stave off.

“Jaskier, stop keeping them up.” Geralt grumbles, sounding more tired than annoyed. He drags you closer, and it must be a Witcher thing to radiate heat like a furnace, because he was chasing off the cold without even trying, the same arm that you were tied to securing you against his chest.

“Pretty sure I can sleep on my own.”

You snark, and Geralt rolls his eyes.

“Not for the next week you aren’t, if that. Now go to bed.”

You scowl, glaring up at him. With the blanket over you, the fire, and the heat radiating off his body, you were tired, sure. But not tired enough not to say something, not when you were being treated like an idiot who couldn’t do anything for themselves.

“You can’t just- Geralt this isn’t right, and you know it. You can’t just- keep me here!”

You protest. Arguing with Geralt was much like arguing with a wall, honestly. Stubborn and just as likely to listen to you as the bricks that made up the walls of your old college.

But walls could come down. You just had to get through to him, make him realize that what was doing wasn’t going to work. You weren’t strong enough or fast enough to escape him, not without some clever plan or tricks up your sleeve, and you were pretty sure that an Olympic level athlete would still have issues trying to outpace him. So your only hope was getting him to listen.

It was a fragile hope, but it was the only hope you had.

“We’re not talking about this right now. Go to sleep.”

Geralt grumbles, and you open your mouth again. The warning rumble in his chest cuts you off, and you swallow.

The sound was exactly that. A warning. Geralt had never hurt you before, not really, but whenever he got mad things were miserable. Jaskier would be irritated with you for ‘putting Geralt in a mood’ as he put it, and you would be without the bard’s chattering to fill the heavy silent between you and Geralt. Not to mention the awkwardness of being forced to ride atop Roach with Geralt, the silence thick with tension between the two of you, or the way you would hope desperately for the day to end so you could go to sleep.

No, it was better to keep the Witcher happy. For all parties.

“Alright. Good night.” You finally mutter, and he sighs, the tension leaving his body. You feel his torso loosen, relaxing behind you, and you feel your hand shaking, just slightly. Or a little more than slightly. Your stomach twists, and Geralt sighs.

“I know you don’t understand. But you’ll realize this is what’s best for you.” He says it like it’s supposed to be an assurance, smoothing a hand over your hair like you’re a particularly fussy child, and you consider, for a second, twisting and biting that hand. Driving your teeth deep enough to draw blood and make him listen to you, for once.

You don’t, mainly because you know he would just move it fast enough your teeth would just snap at empty air.

You close your eyes. With the almost stifling heat behind you, and the too-heavy weight of the cord on your wrist that logically shouldn’t feel as heavy as it did, sleep does not come easy. Eventually, though, you feel your consciousness slip away into oblivion.

#yandere platonic Geralt of Rivia #yandere witcher #yandere platonic Geralt #platonic yandere x reader

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cultpastorkevin · 5 months

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Dependent Personality Disorder, Kevin Day, & the Edgar Allan Ravens

brought to you by an ex cult pastor w/ crippling mental issues

well let’s just jump right into it ngl (also if I miss anything or forget something give me a pass I have amnesia and a one track mind so I definitely missed stuff)

Okay so the whole Ravens always have a partner, never go anywhere alone, if one fails you both pay, etc. I’ve been thinking about this for weeks and I don’t see it broken down and discussed at length enough, so imma try to do that from a mixed personal experience & psychology perspective

The fact Jean, Neil and Kevin have all stated in books and in the extra content that not having that presence next to them was devastating (much less so for Neil okay he didn’t spend fucking years there); Nora has also talked about how Ravens are basically unable to function if left alone; you can’t send them to the store alone or leave them places or expect them to be capable of completing tasks without their other half; TSC reeks of Jean having to learn how to function without a double and it’s gonna be a trainwreck for Jeremy bc how the fuck can Jean be this old and not feel able to have a room on his own anyways—

What is Dependent Personality Disorder?

The DSM-5 refers to DPD as a pervasive and excessive need to be taken care of, which leads to submissive and clinging behavior and fears of separation. It is characterized by excessive fear and anxiety. DPD begins by early adulthood, is present in a variety of contexts, and is associated with inadequate functioning. Symptoms can include anything from extreme passivity, devastation, or helplessness when relationships end; avoidance of responsibilities; and severe submission.

According to the DSM-5, the disorder is indicated by at least five of the following factors:

has difficulty making everyday decisions without an excessive amount of advice and reassurance from others.

needs others to assume responsibility for most major areas of their life.

has difficulty expressing disagreement with others because of fear of loss of support or approval.

has difficulty initiating projects or doing things on their own (because of a lack of self-confidence in judgment or abilities rather than a lack of motivation or energy).

goes to excessive lengths to obtain nurturance and support from others, to the point of volunteering to do things that are unpleasant.

feels uncomfortable or helpless when alone because of exaggerated fears of being unable to care for themselves.

urgently seeks another relationship as a source of care and support when a close relationship ends.

is unrealistically preoccupied with fears of being left to take care of themselves.

Since I only need 5, and I don’t want to bore everyone to death, I’ll just do 5.

needs others to assume responsibility for most major areas of their life

Kevin spent well, basically his entire life having everything picked out for him by others. Exy was chosen for him. Where he lived, when he slept, what he ate and when was chosen. Riko and Tetsuji dictated his every fucking step up until he left. Kevin didn’t learn anything he wasn’t supposed to learn and therefore automatically expected others to do it for him because that’s what he was taught to do. Kevin’s only skill in life is Exy, which means he doesn’t have any other skills (well he does, he just doesn’t think they’re useful or important). Ravens are taught to be dependent on each other because without each other, they’re not whole or a person; they’re dehumanized until they begin to assign responsibility to someone they think is more equipped for it, is better for it, which is usually an authority figure (in this case, those figures are Riko and Tetsuji). Tetsuji knew exactly what he was doing by creating the psychological mindfuck of an inter-dependent group that is the Ravens. He took a bunch of young adults, gave them a god, and then helped that god beat them into numb dissociation until they couldn’t think for themselves and were even afraid to.

has difficulty expressing disagreement with others because of fear of loss of support or approval

Reminder that DPD is prevalent in people who have been excessively abused and it’s also characterized by extreme anxiety. For people like Kevin and the Ravens, expressing anything other than what Riko and Tetsuji wanted could get them killed; it wasn’t just about being terrified of disapproval or protection, it was because losing anything from the group meant you were gonna get hurt (usually badly). Jean was literally waterboarded for shits and giggles, you think Riko is gonna take someone saying no very well (Neil Josten drove him insane I can tell u that much)? Ravens have a hive mind mentality because a hive mind keeps them alive and safe. Kevin had a hive mind when he was with Riko, and I’d argue he still had the remnants of one when he was with the Foxes. Riko breaking his hand was the only thing that broke him out of it, and even then, it barely did. Kevin only started mouthing off to Riko when Neil (bless his scrungly ass) started shaking Riko’s brain like a maraca. He had someone he could depend on in those situations because, again, Ravens always do things together. Kevin wouldn’t fucking dream of shitting on Riko at Kathy’s show by himself. Kevin spent 10+ years at Evermore with his sanity hanging on the hook of a batshit adoptive brother whose approval or disapproval would dictate if he was allowed to sleep. So yeah, I’d say Kevin had a violent need to always express agreement and do everything Riko wanted whether he liked it or not because the anxiety and terror of not doing so outweighed any sense of self preservation he could have. That ties in w the next one.

goes to excessive lengths to obtain nurturance and support from others, to the point of volunteering to do things that are unpleasant

Riko utilized abuse in a lot of ways; Nora put in her extra content that he had other Ravens rape Jean; imo, those Ravens most likely didn’t fucking want to, but going to excessive lengths to stay within his approval and be safe? Yeah, they were gonna do it. Tetsuji and Riko also make the Ravens never miss practice or any other shit they want them to do, regardless of the state they’re in. Which means you’re going to practice when you’ve been raped the night before; it means you’re going to practice after getting butchered all night by your other half, etc. Anyways; when Kevin works with the Foxes, he repeatedly does the opposite and basically throws a fit if someone steps on court that isn’t in shape to. This begs the eye raiser that he didn’t want those things happening at Evermore, but he did them anyways because his need for approval and the anxiety of not doing so, outweighed the fact he hated doing it. He was so dependent on Riko and staying close that he was pretty willing to toss anyone and everyone under the bus to meet expectations even if they left a nauseating pit in his stomach. Doing unpleasant things for the person you’re attached to is hard, but their praise and approval after the actions erase all previous anxieties, which then fuels a broken cycle of seeking out that approval and continuing to engage in unpleasant actions out of fear of not recieving that pending approval afterwards. It’s hard to explain succinctly the mindfuck DPD causes your thoughts to be like when you have it.

urgently seeks another relationship as a source of care and support when a close relationship ends

Kevin lost Riko. You know what he gets next? Fucking Andrew. I don’t even know if I need to explain this one because Kevin’s dependency on Andrew is so prevalent and excruciatingly obvious throughout the whole series lmao. Kevin ain’t gonna admit it but he relies on Andrew like a starving man relies on garbage (no offense Andrew). Kevin’s duo dependency with Riko was shattered to its core and guess what idiot he latches onto to fill the void? Andrew ofc. I think out of everyone, Andrew is probably the healthiest until Neil comes along (still think it should’ve been a polycule but I digress).

Riko’s obsessiveness and possessiveness with Kevin was crippling to Kevin and left him without the ability to exist without a buffer. Andrew’s apathetic ass and explicit understanding of consent is needed to balance out Riko’s emotional instability and disregard for Kevin’s autonomy. I would go so far as to say it was dependency that forced Kevin to become more independent because Andrew wasn’t going to sit on his ass and wait for Kevin to figure it out or heal. Kevin only struggled into some form of functionality out of what I personally see as a crippling people pleasing need to be useful and that came from being dependent on those around him. He became semi functional (I use this so vaguely bc that man would not be functional in the real world) out of necessity and obligation to those around him, not because he actually healed or processed his shit.

Ignoring your own issues to meet expectations of the one(s) you’re dependent on is stereotypical avoidance and signs of people pleasing and also it’s a trauma response. Kevin quite literally just went “yeah well I have some problems but I’m going to push those aside bc nothing else matters besides Exy” and then proceeded for the entire series to use Exy, Neil, and Andrew as ways to try to avoid his trauma history. He’s kinda insane for that but also I get it, because placing your trauma lower than something else and then in turn obsessing over something or someone helps you compartmentalize and pseudo-function until you eventually snap and have a massive meltdown. Another thing is that when you’re living in an abusive environment you can’t afford those meltdowns. I like think that after all the shit happened in AFTG, Kevin just lost his shit for a period of time because it’s a very reasonable trauma response in victims for once you’re finally safe, you just shatter from all the pressure you’ve been avoiding in yourself. It’s only after you shatter that you can heal, and you can’t do that unless you’re in a space that you’re allowed to. And Tetsuji kept his Ravens in a headspace where they couldn’t.

feels uncomfortable or helpless when alone because of exaggerated fears of being unable to care for themselves

Ngl I’ve kinda already covered aspects of this but I just wanna reiterate what Nora said abt this specifically in her extra content that “Kevin is the one who warns Jeremy he (Jean) cannot go anywhere alone, “we Ravens don’t know how” and “Being able to go to class or the grocery store or the gym without any of his teammates in attendance is just—unfathomable” in regards to Jean Moreau’s transition into the Trojans. This is just kinda, explanatory. We’re talking about college age athletes who have been hazed and abused so much that the idea of going to a class alone isn’t even a concept to them; Kevin explicitly tells Jeremy that Ravens don’t know how to do things. They’re dependent on each other. Kevin is not only speaking to help Jean, but when he says “us Ravens” he’s including himself in that statement because he can’t either and he knows how hard it is to try to acclimate to suddenly being thrust into individuality when you haven’t had it in years. Unlike most of the Ravens, Kevin and Riko (and eventually Jean as well) grew up having that inter dependency made into a core personality trait. They hate each other and they love each other, their failures and wins depend on each other, one can’t breathe without the other suffering for it. At what point does trained and conditioned, and ultimately encouraged, dependent behavior turn into brainwashing and dehumanization until there’s nothing left of you but the one you’re dependent on?

Finally

I’m not saying Kevin Day or all of the Ravens have DPD; but what I am saying is that they have extreme traits at the least of it and it is entirely fucking reasonable to me that at least a few of them ended up with DPD or similar disorders because of the shit that happened to them in the Nest. People forget that trauma and adverse circumstances (especially from young ages like Kevin and Riko and Jean) can cause you to develop disorders or even mimic symptoms of disorders because those traumatic events caused reactions that are disordered behaviors. I feel if anything is to be nitpicked, it’s Kevin’s absolute bitchiness, because god he can be an asshole, and someone somewhere could argue because he has that antagonistic streak, DPD is entirely out of the question.

Unfortunately, the dichotomy exists of knowing when you can be bitchy and maintain submissiveness. Kevin probably learned where and when and to what extent he could tow that line when he lived in the Nest, whether it was taking out his anger and his anguish on other Ravens, on the court, or on the Foxes when he moved over. In my experience, my own explosive anger issues had to be portioned out, I had to know who I could do that to, be like that with. When and where was the correct time to lash out and when I was gonna get hit for it. Kevin isn’t stupid, he knew what Riko and Tetsuji were like. He also knew he had the upper hand in the power dynamic over the Raven’s on court. If he went for blood out of anger during practice, triggered by if Riko hurt him too much or took too much from him, other Ravens just had to take it, or worse, probably were encouraged to encourage the brutality.

All in all, I think Tetsuji created an absolute fucking labyrinth of a psychological warzone that both forced submission and rewarded dominance; it left lasting behavioral traits and triggered disorders that crippled Ravens, some for their entire lives. I wanna bet probably no former Raven went to therapy; the ones that got divvied up after the Nest closed probably were required to by their new teams, and they probably are the only generation that maybe were able to heal from it. In the extra content, Thea decided because Kevin could play again, “no harm no foul” on Riko’s end. If that’s not hivemind, culty, worshipper behavior, idk what is. That’s not a normal reaction, but it is a conditioned one.

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dragimal · 11 months

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the great (horrifying) thing about supernatural horror involving little kids is the underlying thread of helplessness that isn't really present with adult characters/stories

like with Skinamarink, we could debate whether the happenings of the film are physically "happening" or whether they're a metaphor for something more realistic (like child abuse/neglect), but at the end of the day the result is the same: these kids are 100% completely powerless

to a kid, an omnipotent god-entity is at the same level of confusing and powerful as a particularly cruel adult. without any way to call for help (or any way to get adults to listen to them), they're fucked either way. this is especially true if the kid is too young to have really internalized "rules of reality" yet-- they don't know how the world is "supposed" to work yet, so they prolly won't pick up on subtle spacial/metaphysical fuckery. they just know that they're scared and hurt and confused, and no one is around to help them

it rly puts into perspective the kinda world kids are forced to navigate, esp when we don't take the time to meet them at their level or care to listen to them. and, alternately, I think it also serves as an interesting way to view cosmic horror-- entities that often overlook the gaps in our perspectives and don't (or maybe can't) properly explain their motives or actions, and have the power to wreak devastating trauma on us if they have the inclination

#shut up ashley #horror #skinamarink #child abuse #< some discussion #other good examples: Among the Sleep. Papo and Yo #tho those are uh. unambiguous metaphors lmao. point still stands tho

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daddysgoty0u · 5 months

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He could tell his girlfriend was getting quite stressed from work and school… She never seemed to get a break. So he waited until she had a solid 5 days of nothing.. With no one or thing to worry about.

A lot of planning was involved, he cleaned out an old storage room and put in a crib with plastic sheets and cuffs on each corner of the bed (good for changing naughty rebellious little girls who wet and mess themselves.)

There was a cabinet, filled with diapers, powder, wipes, and cute little outfits that made her look like a 3 year old.. There were also paddles, vibrators, rope, cuffs, and crops etc. depending on how bad his little girl decided to be.

Finally it was time.. She came home from work with a sigh of relief.. He handed her cranberry juice with laxatives and diuretics. Soon enough she would realize that she needs diapers, and Daddy’s guidance.

“Sweetie, I want to talk to you about something.. I know things have been so stressful for you, and I want to help. Let me take care of you this weekend, so you can just relax.” She loved the idea of that, it sounded perfect to her… Little did she know what was actually in store for her.

Some time had gone by, and she was beginning to get a bit suspicious… Why did he keep feeding her snacks and drinks? She had all ready had so much, but she didn’t want to disappoint him.. Suddenly a need to pee washed over her and she doubled over trying to hold it.

“What’s wrong baby?” I asked, as I pulled her onto my lap. “I’m not a baby,” she responded rather indignantly. “Now let me up, I need to use the bathroom.” She squirmed in my lap as I held her in my arms, she gave me a strange look as she struggled. “Listen baby girl, I’m going to take care of you this weekend, but you’re going to have to follow some rules… Rule number 1, bathroom off limits.”

“You’ve gone crazy, haven’t you?” She asks in disbelief, the pressure growing in her bladder. “Crazy for you little girl,” I teased as I began to tickle her. Now she really began to squirm and writhe about, but suddenly froze as I felt my own crotch begin to get soaked, with a steady *drip drip* on the floor.

“Oh my God, Sarah, didn’t you just say that you weren’t a baby?” She was didn’t know how to process what happened, red in the face and utterly humiliated.. She just wanted to hide, she couldn’t believe that she just wet herself, now she was soaked.

“C’mon sweetie, lets get you cleaned up.” Before she knew it she was being carried in his arms.. She really did feel like a baby in that moment, and it was kind of nice knowing that he was there to take care of her.. But then she saw it. He opened a door to what looked like an adult nursery.

Before she could say anything he had laid her down and began locking her ankles and wrists into the cuffs attached to the four corners of her crib. That’s right, her crib, because she was the only one in sight who wet themselves like a toddler.

“What are you doing?!” She yelled and she flailed about against her cuffs. Relax sweetie, this is for your own good.. You need to give this a chance, the cuffs are just in the beginning to help you settle in.. They may be used as punishment in the future if you’re going to be a naughty little brat. “Are you fucking crazy?!” She yelled. He gave her a hard swat on her butt, and that was enough for her to go quiet, with just a small whimper, as she looked up with pleading eyes.

He began to cut her clothes off of her, until she was completely naked. The look in her eyes betrayed her, was she secretly enjoying this all ready? Could she finally give up control to someone else? He did make her feel safe, even though she was completely helpless now. But then she saw it, he pulled out a thick diaper from the cabinet, and her face grew more red then he had ever seen.

“What are you doing with that?.. Please no..” She begged, and she lifted her cute little ass for him without even thinking. Before she knew it he had expertly taped the thick diaper in place between her legs. She couldn’t help but press her diapered butt against the changing pad bringing it back and forth as the diaper rubbed against her princess parts, making her moan. She felt so humiliated and helpless, why was it turning her on so much?

He slapped her diapered but again, and told her no cumming without permission was rule number 2. She pouted and looked up at him, about to plead for a second time before she caught herself.. She didn’t want to be in diapers! This was ridiculous!

“You’re going to behave, right baby?” He let her out of her restraints, and lifted her onto his hip, carrying her back over to the couch. He pulled a sheet off the couch, which turned out to be waterproof. Important when you have a leaky baby to take care of. Into the wash it went, to be ready again in a few hours when her diaper is at its leaking point.

He held her in his lap again, giving her soft kisses and rocking her.. She was still trying to get over the fact that her Daddy was holding her in nothing but a diaper, when she felt a sudden intense pressure in her bowels. She blushed at the thought of calling him Daddy, and began to squirm. “Please let me up, I really need to go.”

“That’s what your diapers are for sweetie, just relax and let go” She wasn’t having it though. She kept trying to fight and even buck against him as he held her down in his lap. It was to no avail, she couldn’t struggle and hold it.. She felt herself losing control, blushing as she let farted and her belly growled and grumbled. She stopped struggling and focused all of her might on holding it in.

She began to cry as the mess forced its way out of her and filled the back of her diaper. It just kept coming as she grunted and struggled to push it into her tight diaper. She was utterly exhausted and spent by the end, and a complete mess. Makeup down her face from crying, and the fullest diaper she could imagine. She began wetting herself, but didn’t even care at this point. She just tried to hide in his arms, really feeling like a baby for the first time.

He patted her mushy diaper, pressing it into her.. She didn’t even try to stop him any more. “You’re such a good girl, you’ve gone through a lot baby.. Lets get you cleaned up with a bath and then get you in a fresh diaper. Then we can curl up and watch a movie.

She sighed as he was carrying her again. She was humiliated, but she knew she was in good hands.. She would never admit it, but she might be enjoying this after all.

#ab dl #ab/dl #diapered #diaper kink #ddxlg

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furiousgoldfish · 2 years

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There’s this thing about being continually punished for being angry as a child, and it’s that you inevitably feel absolutely helpless when you’re angry. Your anger can’t accomplish anything, it doesn’t protect you, it doesn’t state your feelings, it doesn’t enforce your boundaries, even though it’s supposed to do those things. You’ve been wounded, you are right to rise up and protect yourself with rage.

Instead, your anger provokes retaliation, revenge, additional danger for your survival, and it leads you to a state where you not only can’t get angry, but feel like that’s all that anger does - invokes more abuse. When you try to get rightfully angry in your adult life, at some obviously shitty injustice, you instead find yourself despairing over every scenario of how this could come back to hurt you, how the other person might use some kind of power to get revenge, to get you removed, to put you in more trouble than you could possibly deal with. It becomes terrifying to stand up for yourself, even a little, because in your head, every word you state in your defense, will be perceived as a provocation for torture.

The second problem you might end up with, that even when you do manage to get angry, to be sure it’s a completely justified and safe thing to do, you’ll have no idea what amount of anger is appropriate for what situation. Once your anger is triggered, it might become impossible to stop it, even if you don’t take any actions, the rage might boil inside you for days, weeks, because someone triggered the mountain of anger you store in your body, and it’s tearing thru you like a volcano. It can be extremely difficult to find a way to react normally, to judge what amount of anger is necessary to prove your point and get the injustice undone, without overdoing it or taking anger out on someone who can’t do anything about it.

I’m struggling to understand that my anger can accomplish anything at all - after all, it was not taken seriously, and forced down for the most of my life, to the point where I was shocked to hear that some people found my cold anger scary. I would shut myself down for weeks on time because I didn’t want to miss-step and act out my rage on anyone, and apparently this was enough to get some people scared. Because it is not normal for a human being to be that angry, and that cold, for so long. People are used to bursts of anger, and then communication, making up, forgiveness. It doesn’t work with me. I can’t stop being angry until I dissociate and completely forget the original issue. I can only go back to communicating once the injustice was erased out of my mind. And this means, it never gets resolved, it can’t even be mentioned without me experiencing extreme rage once again.

Let your kids be angry, dammit. Child’s anger is not threatening, it’s not a danger to you. The natural response is there for a reason. Child anger is not disrespect or stepping out of their place, it’s because they’re human, they’re struggling! They feel wounded. And if there’s some understanding that needs to take place, it should take place after they’ve calmed down. You as an adult should know that much, even adults don’t listen to reason while overcame with emotions. No child needs their anger forced back into their throat with threats or abuse.

#anger issues #child abuse #rage issues #abusive parents #cptsd #trauma symptoms #feeling helpless in anger #cold anger #triggering anger #trauma

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