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#what is a hoard if not a special interest?
sparingiscaring · 2 years
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*drop kicks into your askbox * do Fires for the blorbo meme lol
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I can't believe it was HIM that got a bingo first bdjvkvsjvsjv
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library-fae · 17 days
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realising im the autism outlier by finding every conversation interesting if i can learn more from it
oh you're an expert on car mechanisms? i know nothing about that, tell me more
oh your favourite tv show just aired it's finale? share with me all of it
im always seeking knowledge and need to know the answers to every question
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the-furies · 1 year
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at one point the entirety of theCN live block was lost media???!!!! or at least partially lost???? what the fuck what the aFUCK!
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silverislander · 1 year
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i don't know how i'd describe my relationship with mom but today i tried to tell her something interesting about a disorder i learned about in psychology to share my interests and her response was to cut me off and insinuate i'm a hoarder, then laugh at me. so.
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austinsastrology8991 · 10 months
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> MC ASPECTS < How you renowned around town “You make your own reality. And once you’ve done it, apparently, everyone’s of the opinion it was all so fucking obvious.” - Logan - Fucking - ROy
!!parental advisory explicit!!
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MC Aspecting Sun - “rome, I think you're a super talented superstar and I love you” - Shiv Roy : Its hard not to notice you, you got a poise of regality, and you work the public sphere with ease; you put yourself out there and you get a lot of attention from onlookers - and it makes you one of a kind. you are someone with dignity and maybe too much self respect for some, to give you the credit that you do deserve > because no one does it quite like you - high key a dominant force in any room you enter - wolf of wall street vibes and lets be honest you are not above having a party at the office... and paying hookers to make it more cool...... you do the most and its a vibe vibe MC Aspecting Moon - "They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had, and add some extra just for you" - Therapist in succession You know how to put people at ease, and your basically a professional therapist at this point. You can lighten up anyones mood or piss everyone off depending on how you feel. And this understanding of psychology really benefits you; because people want to treat you right, so you can give them some insight as to why they have a mental breakdown every 5 minutes (this generations daily cycle) your like a dog that lives in a hair-salon and everyone wanna get a cuddle from it/he/she/thing/you
MC Aspecting Mercury - “Information, Greg, it’s like a bottle of fine wine. You store it, you hoard it, you save it for a special occasion and then you smash someone’s face with it.” - Tom Wambsgams When you stfu people are wondering what your thinking. because somehow. someway. you've taken control of the conversation, and whatever you say is taken with heavier consideration then the average person. However that does not mean you get your way, it just means we listen to you the most - easily the most valuable insight comes from you guys, and your perceived as. a hustler. no wonder your careful with ur words because you dont really care about getting the right answer in the known, if that ultimately inteferes with your master plan you'll just stay quiet - because you know how to navigate the world with words, and your aware that ultimately the final word - the best word - is the deciding factor of what we do MC Aspecting Venus - "Here’s the thing about being rich, okay? It’s fucking great. It’s like being a superhero, only better. You get to do what you want — the authorities can’t really touch you. You get to wear a costume, but it’s designed by Armani and it doesn’t make you look like a prick." - Tom Wambsgams Beauty pageants. Everyone is interested in you, because your beautiful and your graceful, and you'd make a fine edition to the list of exes that everyone has. So besides the fact that your fuckable, you know how to charm people so easily and thats why you get so much attention, and its positive unless your insecure about how attractive you are.... which is a real thing... and id say just get that plastic surgery or stfu and find some real solutions. i mean has anyone ever tried to tell a beautiful person, that they beautiful.... its exhausting... and then they just look for someone else (more beautiful) to get that validation. its a death trap!!! dont fall for that bs... but damn yo fine ass better get used to being a fine ass or someone gonna commit a crime on yo ass MC Aspecting Mars - "I got a track record from founding one of the most exciting new media brands in the world. And what do you got? Track marks from shooting junk? Thanks for coming down. It was great to meet you." - Lawyrence Yee Unfuckwitable - you embody the underdog - and i mean an under dog thorugh and through; youll bark at anything that pisses yall offf, and thats why people watch they step around yall, no one wanna get bitten by da big dog with a small dog complex. but your fierce and people try their best to match your aggressive energy just to save face for themselves - meanwhile your just more pissed off that you always gotta show yo teeth to anyone you talk to lol. Your competitive and act like crackhead that knows karate. everyone is low key intimidated by ya, and you know it
MC Aspecting Jupiter - "Most things don't exist. the ford motor company hardly exists. It's just a time saving expression for a collection of financial interests." - Logan RoyEveryone likes you, and sometimes you don't even understand why, and thats just another reason to like you. You show a geniune uninterest in any boring mundane activities > and this lack of care for bullshit makes it so that when you do show an interest for something > you've somehow convinced everyone in the room that your enthusiasm defines whats enjoyable. and this discernment makes others believe that your the new budha for socio-economic observations . I respect it. and you did it without even realizing, like thats a feat initself, and you guys are 100 feet tall in everyone elses eyes because you got a name fo yo self MC aspecting Saturn - "the actual fact is we're persuading more and more shareholders everyday that we offer them just a slightly better chance for them to make a little bit more money on the dollar…and that's all that this is…." - Stewy Hosseini The boss is here and now everyone gotta actually do something productive. you guys have respect, and people know that if they don't come at you correctly, then you'll correct it for them, and no one wanna be daddied by the king kong daddy. Your life is defined by hardships and this is the most noticeable trait about yall, and it has molded you into a gus fring. A stone cold killer. You don't have to say much but the weight of your presence in itself, is so much pressure, that everyone wanna ask for more time, but no one wanna be scolded by yall so we just stfu and deal with it MC Aspecting Uranus - "Nothing is a line. Everything, everywhere is always moving. Forever. Get used to it." - Logan Roy Who is they? who are we? why can they get away with acting like a complete fucking retard? Well they don't 'get away with it' they just fucking do it. I mean the balls on ya'll is undeniable, but the audacity and the concept of why. well no one knows and I don't think you do either. But you literally change the game wherever you go, because you do ridiculous shit just to make fun of reality, and it really does expose how much of a cult we all live in; since we all about our own rituals of bullshit. I applaud the audacity but everyone gets nervous around your unpredictable nervous explosions - your like a charged creeper; youve been shocked by something and now you just have to explode and ruin everyones buildings
MC Aspecting Neptune - "Climate said I was going down. Climate said I should just step aside. I guess I'm a climate denier" - Logan Roy You're imagination personified. You somehow write your favourite stories into reality > and you do this so uncosnciosuly thst you've somehow convinced everyone its real. You don't care much for whats actually real, you'd rather manifest what you want to be real > no matter whats being thrown at you (and theres a lot) you have a uncanny ability to be a energy conduit > and transform that energy into what pleases you the most. And because of this you appear to be a mystic. and theres a tendency to be very calm, and if life throws too much shit at you > and you've ran outta favours, its adios to the world. and the long road of finding your purpose again awaits! MC Aspecting Pluto - "Would you like to hear my favourite passage from Shakespear? Take the fucking money." - Logan Roy You are daunting aren't you. people don't talk to you very much, at least not any normal self abiding citizen. you look like TMNT - you look neglected > look like you ate some radioactive poison > became this mutant thing > and was raised by a rat that could beat your ass... how'd that go? you look great! I would shake your hand but Im honestly afraid your gonna bite me. Look your life is intense and borderline traumatic, I get it. but this makes you so mesmerising > you can have the whole room in a trance with your dark aura, and people just hand you power like its nothing. You don't even care tho, and thats what makes you even more powerful lol > if anyone can handle the dark. its you > and a powerful 'rep' requires someone who doesn't fuck around. and you do not
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highly highly recommend succession > all the quotes used are from dat show - and its a fkn masta piece
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gremlingottoosilly · 2 months
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What if the pet of monster141! Were an artist? (Idk like she likes to draw, wrute or dance that stuff)
As a collective, monster 141 couldn't really care less about the nature of your hobby. You're babbling about your drawings, and they are getting you materials. You want to dance, and they're the willing audience. You sing? They would listen. Never doing much to actually explore what you like to do, none of them really understand it except for Soap, who also likes to draw. They just adore your interests and the way you are not whining and crying about sitting in your nest whole day. If they can give you a bit of fun by just finding you art supplies or giving you company for your performances, you'd be the happiest pet alive and they are the happiest owners. You will have special connection with Soap though - he is an artist himself, and if you're drawing or doing something similar like crafting, he would love to exchange little art pieces with you. Just sitting together in a nest, drawing for each other - he would love to be your model or your inspiration, always wearing things you made him with proud glint in his eyes. Drawing you and then encouraging you to try it out too - even if you're not an artist, he would hype you so so much, it's insane just how supportive he is. Price isn't like this - he would just accept your little gifts and kiss you for every little picture or handmade piece you gave him, but he wouldn't look too much into it. he can't say anything other than "it's a really good drawing, luv" Ghost is even worse, somehow. He wouldn't even say anything when you're giving him the drawings or the little pieces - he would just grunt and take it, hoarding everything in his bed. He can't say how treasured you made him feel - but he adores you, even if he can't say this a lot of the time. Gaz would be the one to always listen to your singing or go dancing with you. As a harpy, he is naturally driven to mating dances and songs - if you're more on a performative art side of things, he would love to participate! Making you learn the harpy mating dance and the songs you need to sing when you're horny, or just repeating whatever you're doing like a proud birdie! Gaz just adores you so so so much, it's not even fair...
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werecreature-addicted · 5 months
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okay hear me out, getting shared by a dragon lady gf and a werewolf gf, i would literally melt 🫠 them both being so warm and possessive of you, just trying to make you happy. and when they wanna fuck you, good god you better prepare yourself cause they’re both HUGE
this is such an interesting concept to me, both werewolves and dragon lovers are typically supper possessive and not big on sharing. the thought of being caught between two of them is delicious.
Both of them whining and pawing at you trying to win your attention from their rival girlfriend. really though it doesn't matter what they try because you're right where you want to be, stuck between your two girls being fawned over.
They are similar in more ways than being possessive, they both have sharp claws and sharper teeth. Also, the absolute heat that radiates both of these women. Your heater hose goes out at one point and you don't even notice.
The love languages differ a little bit though, Dragons are gift-givers through and through, there is no more intimate form of affection than your dragon love giving you something from her hoard or receiving something from you to add to it. Werewolves are more acts of service. She wants to show she cares by making your life just a little bit easier. Whatever chore you hate most she'll be happy to take off your hands, especially if it's yard work.
I imagine a Dragon lady as someone who cares a lot about her appearance, she has a 12-step skincare routine and a special mini fridge to keep it all in. Werewolf girl, on the other hand, uses 3 in one, has acne scars, and tries to sneak cans of beer into the skin care mini fridge. It's a huge fight every time.
Dragon girlfriend is flatchested and a little insecure about her chest size, especially when compared to your werewolf partner who is stacked. Not that you mind, of course, tits are tits, in the iconic words, I don't care if they're little put those boobs in my face.
She makes up for "size" in other areas too. Sorry wolfie, but nothing is bigger than a dragon cock. That's another thing that they have in common, they're both eager to make you cum on their fat girl cocks. <3
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dark-and-kawaii · 6 months
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༺ 𝒜 𝒟𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 ༻
You never expected a Devil to be your savior, never expected to be cherished by him…
PRT 2 (CLICK HERE) - Fluff - Soft Raphael - Past Talk About Abuse
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Gazing outside his balcony, you watched as yet another red storm began to stir throughout Avernus. The wilted trees bend to the will of the fiery winds. The overcast clouding your view of the mountains, and with a deep sigh this dreary day has brought back memories you had thought you’d forgotten. A life full of pain and restrictions… But the devil took you away from it all, and gave you a new life with new meaning.
With a subtle startled expression as you felt your hand graze one of the small buttons on your wrist, you look down with a warm smile as you continue to run your hand along the soft cotton of Raphael’s opulent dress shirt. You nearly had forgotten that on days such as this you quite enjoy stealing his shirts. They always brought you such comfort and joy, who would’ve thought… A devil bringing you such comfort. It’s laughable really. Holding your arm to your lips you can smell the scent of cherries and sulfur, it relaxes your muscles and you can’t help but to thank him aloud to yourself, “Thank you, my devil.”
“For what, pray tell little mouse of mine?”
And just like a tiny mouse, squealing wasn’t the right word for the noise you had just made… But with a tiny cute noise, you hastily turned around on his silken bed to face the devil himself, Raphael… He was always so handsome no matter the form he took, right now though he appeared human. His milk chocolate eyes watching you with interest, his hand resting on his chin. Everything about him was so grandiose and each time you looked him in the eyes your heart would skip a beat.
The Devil wasn’t perfect, he had his flaws just as everyone else did… He also had his own ambitions to rule the 9 hells… But, for whatever reason, those flaws made him even more special to you. Yes, he was the son of Mephistopheles. Yes, he is technically one of the “bad” guys, but… unlike the last villain that had captured you… Raphael was soft with you, treated you as if you were some sort of delicate flower that would break apart if not careful. He had his souls he enjoyed to flail and torture, yet with you it was different… the devil had no need to put you through such horrors. He cherished and protected you like a dragon with its hoard of treasure.
“R-Raphael- I uh-… Thank you… For…”
Just his presence alone made you flustered, it couldn’t be helped.
“It would seem that the cat has caught this little mouse’s tongue.” A small laugh emanated from his chest, “How, precious.”
You grin at his response.
Damn near everyone would disagree with you, but in your eyes, Raphael wasn’t foul, not like Astarion was… This devil you came to know throughout your adventure didn’t hold you by a leash… Didn’t force you down whenever he pleased, or gauge your neck with his teeth to prove a point- Your flushed face reducing to a pale complexion as your hand cups where Astarion left his mark on you. A chill runs down your spine remembering when Astarion the Ascended chained you for days… All because you wanted to run out into the city for some fresh brioche and to say hello to Gale.
Raphael, a devil, son of Mephistopheles… Never chained you nor held you against your will. He let you run out into the real world… Let you do as you pleased. You knew he’d make Korilla follow after you. But it wasn’t due to lack of trust, it was plainly because he wanted to keep you safe and out of the Vampires grasps.
Like a falling feather, you gracefully glide off Raphael’s bed. His shirt on you flowed at the bottom thanks to it being far too big on you making this scene before him look like it was out of a book- and into his chest you fell. Your arms wrapping around him while your cheek pressed against his arm that crossed against his chest.
“What’s better than a devil you do know?” You looked up at him questioning.
“By all means please do enlighten me.” His hand never left his face and his other arm stayed crossed over his chest as you embrace him.
“A devil thats your savior…” -You looked away from him, staring back out the balcony-, “I don’t think you’d ever find a quote like that in a book, but I’m thankful for you, Raphael. Truly. Thank you.” You press your face into him, your lashes fluttering close.
Raphael would never tell you how he waited for your hope to whittled down to the very marrow of despair- how he waited for you to whimper his name between sobs while chained to the vampires personal bed. The Devil would also never admit how it pained him to see such a treasure being handled in such ways, yet he wanted you to call out to him. He’s still a devil after all… So he waited all that year, waited for you to call out his name for help, pleading to sign whatever it is he desired…
“You didn’t belong with such filth.”- you didn’t need to look up to know he was scrunching his face, you could hear it in his voice- “Fine beauty such as yourself belongs in a much more suitable home.” He finally moved his hand from his face to the top of your head. Petting you like some adored pet.
Raphael, from the moment he laid eyes on you, knew he'd make you apart of his plan forever someday. He just didn’t expect you to vanish all of a sudden… The damn vampire had ascended and taken you… All those years you were caged like some sort of animal. Nowhere to go, forced into things you wanted no part of… Living like a rat.
A rarity had shown its face as Raphael peered down at you, you didn’t see it and Raphael could only hope for once that Haarlep didn’t see the concern on his face.
Astarion still walks among the living, and Raphael can’t be everywhere…
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dancingbirdie · 6 months
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This feels more like a character study of Astarion than anything else, but it's part of the series I'm working on called "The Planets Bend Between Us."
Part 1 here, Part 2 here, Part 3 here, Part 4 here.
Everything on Ao3 here.
My Astarion Spotify playlist here.
I hope you enjoy! Comments always appreciated and hoarded like shiny magpie trinkets.
Only You. Only Me.
Rating: Mature (for descriptions of sex/fantasizing)
Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav
Word Count: 2.4K
Warnings/Tags: Astarion's trauma responses, mental health, coping mechanisms, self-degradation, discussion of sex/physical intimacy, angst, fluff.
Summary: Halsin propositions Tav, prompting another important conversation between her and Astarion. Astarion works through more of his feelings about Tav, physical intimacy, and recovering from the torture he previously endured.
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Astarion had always enjoyed reading. It was one of the very few discreet pleasures in which he could partake when skulking about Baldur’s Gate at night. He would read by the light of the lamp posts dotting the main thoroughfares, slouching against them and perusing texts at his leisure. He could even justify the habit to Cazador and his siblings, as on numerous occasions, it captured the attention of unsuspecting passersby who considered his behavior intriguing enough to strike up a conversation. It was a more passive means of gathering victims, true. It felt akin to fishing for prey as opposed to stalking them. But, still, it got the job done, especially on nights when his skin and bones still ached from his master’s beatings. 
Suffice to say, when he pilfered an armful of books from the druid’s grove several weeks ago, he was excited to finally indulge in the familiar activity once more. He had just selected a worn edition of Traveller’s Guide to the Sword Coast Vol. IV: The Risen Road and begun reading the author’s note when Tav barged into their shared tent with an audible huff. 
“Honestly, I was only making conversation…” she grumbled under her breath as she began aggressively rummaging through her pack to retrieve her night clothes. 
Astarion peered at her over the top of the tome, quirking a brow. 
“Is there something you want to talk about, my dear?” he casually intoned. 
Tav scoffed before turning to look at him over her shoulder. “You wouldn’t believe the conversation I’ve just had with Halsin,” she grimaced. 
Ah, so it finally happened, he thought to himself. He was grinning wickedly as he closed the book and laid it next to his bedding. 
“What’s that smile for?” Tav accused. 
A true, hearty guffaw burst from his mouth at that. Tav would have found it delightfully endearing if she weren’t so flustered. 
“I was wondering when you were going to ask me about this,” he replied, still chuckling. 
“What? How could you tell? Did he say something to you already?”
“I guessed! The man can’t stay quiet about ‘enjoying the freedom of Nature’s gifts’,” Astarion said, adopting a low, throaty tone to mimic the First Druid’s voice before cackling again. “Why, I bet he’d outlaw clothing if he could.”
Tav clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “It’s ridiculous. I was trying to make conversation with him a few days ago, because he seemed lonely and out of place. I mean, at least we all sort of know one another now. Tadpole business and all that. I thought he could do with a friend. So I merely asked if he had someone special waiting for him back home. And, apparently, that’s a coded question for ‘I’m interested in you?’ Honestly,” she scoffed. 
Astarion continued to watch her with obvious amusement. 
Tav turned back around and began undressing. He swallowed thickly as he watched her shrug out of her armor and begin untying the laces of her chest binding. The fabric fell to the ground with a muffled thump. He caught a mouth-watering view of the side of her breast as she bent over to fetch her nightshirt. 
His nightshirt, to be more precise. She’d taken to wearing his clothes (with permission, of course) soon after they had begun sleeping together. Said article of clothing was long enough to serve as a nightgown on her.
His eyes followed the curve of her waist and hips as she slid her breeches over the peaks and dips of her legs. His chest began to feel a little tighter, his breathing a touch ragged. He knew he should turn away. Be a gentleman. Give her some privacy, even if she wasn’t asking for it. 
Tav had grown increasingly casual about her nakedness inside the confines of their tent. She wasn’t doing it as a means to tempt him, he realized. Experienced as he was given his former… raison d'être… he would have picked up on the first whiff of it had her intent been to cajole him into sleeping with her again. 
No, her behavior stemmed entirely from a place of trust. She let her guards down - physically and emotionally - with only him. It was a pure thing. Borne out of a sense of security that Astarion hadn’t thought anyone would ever feel with him. The thought alone was enough to send a surge of blood toward his groin. The tent suddenly felt a lot warmer than it had before she’d entered. 
They hadn’t slept together since the night of tiefling’s celebration. It wasn’t because he didn’t desire her. He did, much more than his conscious self possibly cared to admit. He was especially reminded of that truth during moments like these, when she undressed in front of him as though she had done it a thousand times before. Like she’d do it a thousand times again. The way she shared her body with him, even non-sexually, was enough to kindle fire in his blood.
But he still felt tainted, no matter how many times he scraped and scrubbed his skin clean. The sense of it was still there, like an invisible grime marking him as unclean. Unworthy. And the act itself was still tainted in his mind. It wasn’t an easy place to return from – that cognitive hellscape where sex was a weapon, a vulnerability to exploit, a means to another’s end. 
He would frequently picture himself filling her to the hilt, wrapping her legs around his waist, thrusting into her with all the passion he could muster. And at first, it would bring him nothing but unbridled feelings of pleasure. Of yearning. But then the vision would be overshadowed by other thoughts, memories of previous trysts. Reminding him of who he was. What he was. What he’d done to others. What had been done to him. And by the time he was able to beat back those intrusive thoughts, the urge to ravish her would be lost. And he would be left loathing himself for even thinking of touching her, or having her touch him, in that way. 
You don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve her. That’s not meant for you. The thoughts would taunt him like crows circling a dying animal.  
He knew she wanted to be with him again. Of course, she never asked for it, the polite and empathetic sweetling that she was to him. They had discussed the subject thoroughly, and she had resolutely accepted his boundaries. He knew she’d never overstep them unless he permitted it. But he could feel her wanting in the desperate way she kissed him. In the way she touched him, so reverently, when they curled up in their bedding to rest. It caused his heart to flutter and fracture simultaneously. Because no matter how desperately he wanted to give her what her unspoken actions craved, he couldn’t figure out how to bypass those horrible memories and thoughts that plagued him. 
Things had gotten better, he had to admit. His aversion to touch and intimacy was slowly but surely fading. There were many nights he and Tav lay together in each other’s arms, lips moving together in perfect, glorious synchrony. They explored each other’s bodies – fingertips ghosting along skin, leaving heated trails of gooseflesh in their wake. 
“Tell me to stop,” she would whisper against his neck, her hands roving the planes of his body, as she peppered kisses along his jawline and the column of his neck. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.”
“Keep going,” he would murmur in return, touching her just as desperately. “Please. Keep going.”
It would continue like that for some time, until it became too much. Until her touch stopped feeling like an analgesic to his mind and more like an agonist. He would tense, and she would feel it. He would quietly whisper “stop,” and she would halt immediately. He would clutch her in his arms, and they would lie still as he recovered. 
He wished he could give her more. Give her everything. She said she never minded. That she wanted them to take this slowly. And he believed her. But still. He knew he was a different sort of lover than she likely imagined her first to be. 
Which was why he had resolved to accept the possibility that she might want physical pleasure with someone else. Someone like Halsin, who could give her that attention immediately. Without the additional baggage and self-loathing that he came with. 
Under Cazador’s enslavement, the question of whether he preferred monogamy versus polyamory was just a cruel joke with an even crueler punchline. And before that, well, he couldn’t remember how he’d preferred his relationships. It was disorienting, to be so unsure of himself. Not knowing whether his decisions and preferences now were a reversal of his former personality or an exact alignment. Maybe some craved that sort of clean slate, but to Astarion it was terrifying. And enraging. 
But matters of self-identity aside, he had pondered long and hard about how he would respond were Tav to express interest in someone else. He had seen the way the gazes of some in their party lingered on her, knew they were curious about his little hellcat. Knew it was only a matter of time before someone became brave enough to proposition her. And he’d resolved to tell her, should she ask, that he would be all right with it. If she wanted to be intimate with another. He wouldn’t mind. 
Because it wasn’t her body he wanted, he had realized. While, yes of course, she was exquisite and beautiful and incomparable. She had a feral sort of beauty that drove his senses stark-raving mad sometimes. But what he really wanted – what he craved from her – lay so much deeper within. He wanted her heart. Her trust. Her pride. Her love. Even if he wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. He wanted to know it, wanted to learn. 
“It’s all right, you know,” he murmured finally. 
Tav turned to face him, tying her hair up in a tight bun for sleep. His nightshirt inched up her long, taut legs as she stretched. 
“What’s all right?” she frowned. 
“If you do wish to be intimate with him. I wouldn’t mind. I’m happy for you to have as much… Halsin as you wish.”
Tav just stared at him, her expression unreadable. 
“I just have one question, though,” he continued, pressing on while he still had the courage and vulnerability to ask. “It wouldn’t be because… you know… we haven’t… in a while?” 
The answer mattered so much to him. It was all he could think about for some time now. It made the defensive, self-preserving part of his mind absolutely seethe with rage, but try as he might, he couldn’t shake its importance.
Objectively speaking, he knew it was reasonable if she did respond with yes, it’s because we haven’t in a while, and I really do want to have sex. She was free to feel how she wished. He wouldn’t dare try to force her to stay with only him. He wouldn’t take her agency away from her like that. 
But still, he couldn’t deny that it would gut a part of him, if that would be her reason for taking the First Druid up on his offer. Astarion knew his penchant for misery and self-loathing would seize that answer like a prized jewel. Taunt him with the reality that he wasn’t good enough, wasn’t worth the effort, wasn’t deserving of anyone’s sole focus. 
“Astarion. Look at me,” Tav intoned, interrupting his frantic spiral. 
He hadn’t realized he’d dropped eye contact, his unfocused gaze instead directed somewhere to the side of her head. 
She knelt down before him, her knees pressing into his thigh. Gently, she took his hands in hers. 
“I don’t want to sleep with Halsin. I don’t want to sleep with anyone else,” she said resolutely. He could hear the conviction in her tone.
He stared at her, stunned into silence. In all his pondering and fretting over this, he hadn’t prepared for that answer. Once again, her response left him feeling flat-footed. 
“Listen,” she pressed forward, scooting closer into his side. “I’m fairly new at this, at all of this really. There’s a lot I don’t know about relationships and… physical intimacy… But I do know myself. And I know that sex doesn’t mean nearly as much to me as our emotional connection does. 
“Really?” Astarion whispered, his eyes darting rapidly across her face, desperate to suss out the truth.
Tav nodded seriously, squeezing his hands in hers. “While, yes, I want you in that way… it’s you I want, Astarion. Not the act itself. Just you.”
He wanted to break down in sobs at her words, at just how much they meant to him. That she just wanted him. Astarion. No gimmicks, no quid pro quo, no expectations. She had said it to him before in a different manner of phrasing, but he wasn’t sure if he would ever tire of hearing it. 
She couldn’t possibly understand how her simple truth, her sincere love for him, was upending his entire concept of life and relationships, like a meteor obliterating the ground beneath it. And out of that obliteration, something new and wonderful and terrifying was arising within him. 
Marvelous as it may be, it was still too much to process. The self-preserving part of him reared up in desperation, anxious to shield him from the unknown. He slipped into his costume of confidence and ease once more, although a distant part of him noted how this façade was beginning to chafe. 
“I know,” he chuckled with an offhanded shrug. He could sense the false bravado in his voice and wondered if Tav could discern it as well. 
“I was being foolish,” he continued. “But thank you for saying it.” 
Tav gave him a warm smile and squeezed his hands one last time before releasing them. 
“Of course, my star” she replied lovingly. “Let’s get some rest then, yes?”
“Yes, my darling. Let’s,” he returned.
He gathered her up in his arms as they burrowed down into their bedding. Tav sprawled on top of him, her head on his chest, a leg hitched between his, an arm banded across his waist. 
Within a matter of moments, she was fast asleep. Careful not to shift too much and wake her, Astarion picked up the previously discarded tome and resumed his reading. 
Astarion had always enjoyed reading. Although, he had to admit, the surroundings and company had dramatically improved since the last time he cracked open a book.
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sashiavi · 6 months
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•····🍑········• ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𝓓𝓪𝔂 𝓝𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓮𝓷⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪•······🍑····•
𝚂𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝙰𝚟𝚒'𝚜 𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙺𝚃𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚁
#19•𝚅𝚒𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢•#19
𝚉𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚒/𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚡 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ʷᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ ².³ᵏ
•· ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪·····.•🍑•.····· ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪·•
→ᴰᵃʳᵏ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵂᵃʳⁿᶦⁿᵍ←
ᵀʰᶦˢ ᴾᶦᵉᶜᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃᶦⁿˢ ᵀʰᵉᵐᵉˢ ᴼᶠ | ᴰᵘᵇᶜᵒⁿ| ᶜᵒʳʳᵘᵖᵗᶦᵒⁿ | ᴰᵘᵐᵇᶦᶠᶦᶜᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ | ᶜᵒʰᵉʳˢᶦᵒⁿ | ᴳᵒᵈ ⁽ᴬʳᶜʰᵒⁿ⁾ ᵂᵒʳˢʰᶦᵖᵖᶦⁿᵍ | ᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ᴰᶦˢᶜʳᵉᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᴵˢ ᴬᵈᵛᶦˢᵉᵈ
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Morax, the God of Geo, always got what he wanted. He ruled the region of Liyue with a fist full of gold, sharing his twinkling gifts with the land. Still. The man hoarded, typical for his nature. He took all the prettiest things he could find and kept them just for himself. Rare jewels, glittering relics, pretty little Adepti.
The moonlight twinkles softly in Morax's pretty pet's eyes, reflecting little tears that build up over her iris. An insatiable little Adepti. Morax could tell the sweet girl was nervous, and he could understand, it was not everyday that a pretty thing laid under the God of Geo. A shock to most but a reality to him, why waste time on common escorts with nothing for him to dig his claws into. No reason to kiss and twist at their mind, wrapping them around his fingers? The sweet thing below him was more than a boring temptress, trying her way with him for a chance of something. No. She was his to break, to mold and play with, a sweet pliant plaything.
Morax couldn't recall where he had plucked this pretty Adeptus, not that it mattered regardless. A Contract was issued, binding the sweet girl to him. She was quick to join him at his side as a concubine, serving him day in and out, keeping him humble company. She piqued his interest, she was much unlike his other playthings. She was devoted to her God, worshiping him, she prayed and begged out to him. Despite him existing within the very same vicinity as her, she continued. He received gifts from her, offerings of pretty jewels and sculpted animals she had conjured herself. She adorned a vision of Geo, tying it to her clothing with a complex knot, always keeping the golden crest on her person. The little Adeptus was skilled in the art of healing, shown through her very own actions towards him. Having the audacity to reach out and touch him after a minor injury. And yet he allowed her, finding himself craving the very touch he often denounced towards his harem.
She was his favourite little pet, his prettiest Concubine, he couldn't care if the others knew, Archons he hoped they did. He put her on a pedestal, praised her, fed her, adored her. She was his special little thing, and he was determined to keep her. It was only natural, his innate, Dragonic instinct to hoard and keep. He needed her, maybe more than she needed him.
The sweet girl whimpers below him, eyes bleary and chin wobbling, a darling thing. His large palm rests upon her cheek, thumb caressing the soft skin just under her eye. A pool of soft, pearlescent white silk hugs at her frame, flooding the soft garden of glaze lilies she laid in.
"Sweet pet.. Are you afraid?" Morax's voice was deep, dripping in honey and thorns… Dangerous. The sweet girl breathes a short gasp, quickly shaking her head at his question. There was still something in her eye, a glint, a hint of unease. Morax sighs deeply, nosing into the Adeptus girl's cheek. His throat rumbles in a short, soft growl, he nearly nips at the soft skin of her neck. He relishes the little jump she makes as he presses his fangs into her shoulder, teasing a bite on his prey. His prey.. Meek and quiet, helpless in his clutches. Morax was her predator, stalking her in the night, taking her down to the forest floor, ravaging her body. Maybe one Moon. He would let her go.. Just to snatch her back. He ought to see her try.
His thoughts are broken by his sweet little Adeptus' hand, carding through the thick, long strands of his hair. She unknots them from his glowing horns, rubbing her fingertips into his temple. He wasn't sure she even had the capacity to leave him. He had her all wrapped up just for him.
"Tell me.. Little one… Do you speak the truth? Say it again.. Has a man taken you?" His tone is hot on her skin, warmed by the soft huff of his words. Her breath audibly hitches, her thighs squeeze at his sides. She shakes her and avoids his amber gaze.
"N-No.. I am p-pure… For you.. Rex Lapis…" The way his name tumbles from her tongue with such confidence makes Morax nearly bare his teeth in a grin. What a treat, his sweetest Adeptus was absolutely devoted to him, saving herself spiritually and physically just for her God. He can barely contain himself, picking away at the lacy silk that barely covered her form, exposing her pretty skin to the moonbeam. The Adeptus girl shivers, goosebumps prickle down her form in the cool, night air. Morax breathes into her ear, soothing his large palms over her body, trailing over the bumpy prickles of chill on her skin. He cups at her breast, relishing in the embarrassed squeal she makes in return. He couldn't help but trail his long tongue over her skin, kissing into the spft plush of her breast. He wraps his lips around her sensitive nipple, suckling against the pretty, perky bud. He feels the Adeptus squirm in his hold, clenching her thighs against him.
Morax nurses on her nipple, biting and lapping at her achey sensitive buds. The pretty Adeptus carefully wraps her arms around his head, cradling him into her chest. Morax nearly sinks his sharp fangs into her soft tits, brain fogged on the idea of pumping a litter of Pups into her tummy. Forcing her breasts to swell with sweet milk, just for him to suckle and nurse while he pets his hand over her swollen pregnant belly. He has to stop himself, reel back the insatiable desire for the sweet thing below his form. This was for her. His gift, his blessing, all for her.
Morax pulls back, admiring the dumb expression she gives him, lips parted, eyes hazy and dazzling in the soft kiss of the moon. He can't keep his hands off of her, idly caressing the soft curve of her waist, teasing over her navel with his warm palm. He watches her pretty expression as he thumbs at her pretty, swollen pussy, prodding gently at her virgin core. Her brows pitch up, lips parting with a soft, unsure breath. He almost dives in for a taste, urging to lick and kiss into her mouth and claim it with his long tongue. Instead he marvels at her pure, untouched body, constantly squishing her pretty tits, soft hips, rubbing his thumb into her sticky clit.
"How does it feel, Pet.. To be worshiped by a God?" He asks, purposely pushing his thumb hard into his sweet girl's clit. He sees her little brain work overtime, scrambling to achieve an appropriate answer for her Archon. His finger trails under her chin, cupping at her jaw, forcing her eye to his as he circles her puffy clit.
"Feels.. 's too much.." Morax's little Adeptus hiccups, barely getting her words out, already overwhelmed on him. She couldn't begin to comprehend the atrocities he had written out for her.
"Too much..? Pet, I have barely graced you with my touch.. Don't tell me.. Do you not honor the bind of our Contract?" Morax's voice drips into something dark, uneasy and clouded. His tone feels like thorns, pricking into the most sensitive nerves on the body. Surely the girl will honor him, show her devotion to the Archon of Geo through her pure body. She didn't have the audacity to defy his order. And he knew that. He sees her tears, pricking up again, nearly bubbling out of her eyes.
"I.. am bound to you.. Rex Lapis… You are e-entitled to me.. in.. Whatever form you p-please.. " Her meek voice cuts through the night air, laced in the sweetest hint of unease. Her words nearly earn a growl from Morax.
"Take me then, Pet.. Show me your devotion." Morax's voice hardens. He thumbs at the base of his thick cock, gliding his fat tip through the wet lips of her puffy, virgin cunt. He feels her heat on his length, searing and slick, coating him in her sweet honeyed essence. Something fires in Morax's chest, a heavy pile of hot rocks, pushing pressure against his heart. Something carnal triggers in his mind, an urge. To take, to give, to breed. His coated tip threatens to push past the soft, inexperienced threshold of his pretty Adeptus. He hears her breath, slow, shaken in a mis-attempt at grounding her poor mind.
Morax's fingertips kiss at her lips, urging them to part, pushing them into her warm mouth. The silly Adeptus bites into his knuckles, whimpering over his digits as he presses his thick cock into her aching hole. Morax tuts sympathetically, hushing and shushing the poor, inexperienced girl below him.
"Settle pet.. The pain will subside… Suck.. distract yourself." He watches as she dumbly laps at his fingers, hiccuping as he pushes his long, thick length right in her virgin hole. He hoped it stung and ached, hoped she'd remember the swell of his thick cock, the hard push into her little pussy. He wants her sweet hole to mould on his cock, suck him in and be imprinted right into her womb. He digs his fingers into her tongue, forcing out all the sweet songs her throat makes as he humps against her core.
"Taking me in so earnestly, Little Pet.. All for me?" Morax presses, rocking his hips harder into her gushy cunt. The Adeptus girl has to fight the hiccupy moans that bubble from her chest.
"I'm all f-for you.. I am to.. Become y-yours, My Lord~" His little pet slurs over his fingers. He removes them, using her spit as a lubricant to twiddle and rub at her puffy clit. Morax watches the cogs turn in her dumb little head, reacting to this new-found pleasure he bestowed upon her. She was so.. Cute, Morax muses. His sweet Adeptus, his favourite Concubine, finally deflowered by the very God she had worshiped and prayed to that morning. Morax takes the liberty to press into her harder, fuck her virgin cunt faster.
"Become my Wife, little Pet.. We will rule this land of gold together." He spouts as he rocks his hips into her groin, pressing the thick, fat tip of his cock into her womb. The sweet girl only nods, lips downturned in a soft frown, brows pitched upwards, soft tears trickle down her cheeks. And yet, she bucks her hips back into his, forcing his cock ever so impossibly deeper. There's a soft swell on her tummy, the blunt tip of him bulging into her skin. He rubs his hand over it, once again stuck on the idea of breeding her virgin pussy, filling her up again and again with litter after litter of Pups. He decides he will allow nature to run its course and decide if she was worthy this time.
Morax growls, picking up his pace, finally fucking into her sweet tight core. Her sweet cunt wraps around his cock nicely, squeezing and milking at his length, coaxing him to ooze out the stickiest spurts of pre. He nearly mounts her frame, using her as leverage to push his heavy cock into her, his balls slap against her behind, clumsy and rigid. Morax was getting close, close to cumming in his darling Adeptus wife, close to filling her womb up with the sweetest gift he could possibly offer her.
"Come little one.. And you will be mine forever.." He couldn't barely recognise his own voice, deeper than before, plagued with absolute desire. He stares at her moonstruck face, relishing in the pretty, glittering tears that fall down her cheeks. He nearly licks them off of her face, hardly holding back the urge to devour and ravage her. All in due time, he manages to rationalize. He twiddled at her sensitive little clit again, rubbing hard and fast, making her hiccup and cry out as he fucked into her tight core.
He feels it, her sweet, creamy orgasm. She squeezes his length hard, creaming and clenching over the bullying length of his cock. He fucks her through it, humping into her cunt, rocking his hips into her groin. He can't help but shower her in praise, telling her that she was his best little Adepti, that she and him were destined forever, that he was never going to let her go. Morax further solidified their eternal Contract with a tender kiss, pressing his lips into her own as he pressed his cock into her with a final pressing stroke. Her tight pussy clenches over his length, milking out his seed, thick, hot and fertile. He bites at her lips, slowly rocking his hips into her own, linking the two in a bath of afterglow.
Morax rests his body on the little Adeptus below him, caging her frame into his own, using her shoulder as a pillow. He plugs up her achey pussy with his cock, locking in the heavy seed that sat in her womb. Morax swears he starts glowing, a soft golden shine radiates from his horns and eyes. They twinkle like the light of a firefly, sage and warm and content. He was sure he could fall asleep with her, just like this.
She was claimed. She was domestic. She was his wife. His pretty, little Adeptus pet. If he could pur he was sure he would have.
She was his. Apart of his hoard. His eternal treasure. He was the sun. She was the moon.
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I don't wanna look at this piece anymore 😤
He hurts my brain 😔
•··········🍑···········• ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪•···········🍑··········•
Thank You For Reading! Comments Are Always Appreciated! I'll Kiss You If You Comment *mua*
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•· ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪·····.•🍑•.····· ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪·•
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harmonysanreads · 1 year
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hi! if this interests you in any way, yan xiao and yan scara with s/o who's naturally kind to everyone, not only them? would they want to hoard their s/o's sunshine to themselves only, would they go through unholy lengths to keep them away from others so they're kind only to them? kind of :)
Hiii! I think we all can agree that these two would adore a kind s/o, in fact, your kindness will accelerate their yandere tendencies. Xiao and Scaramouche are similar yet vastly different in their approach and intentions to such a situation.
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Scaramouche would 100% hoard your kindness, monopolizing it thereafter. His methodology merely varies depending on the most prominent periods of his existence.
Kabukimono, who's an infant to every little wonder of this world, takes just a little while to grasp the warmth of your glow. When he does, he understands its necessity to him by comparing it to the air that humans so desperately need to survive. Kabukimono tries to give you the benefit of the doubt for a while, too, but much like a child, he'll quickly become pouty when he sees you showering others in the same kindness. What, was it wrong for him to think himself a little special? He'll probably just follow you around like a duckling (not that he already doesn't everyday) and stare blankly at the person til they get uncomfortable and leave. Should you raise a brow at him—ah no, you can't. After all, he's just an innocent puppet who can barely comb his own hair, he's still new to all this. So, you have no other choice but to take the liberty of teaching him, digging your own grave.
Kunikuzushi is far more expressive and desperate, this is where his protective nature starts to dominate. The world is cruel and ugly, the humans you're so carelessly allowing to take advantage of you? They'll all crush you, extinguish your light. He cannot allow those vermins to greedily take all your attention. Kunikuzushi is also reckless, you try to understand him even when its apparent something is terribly wrong with him but does it affect anything? Yes, it merely strengthens his belief that you should be protected from the filth of the world.
The Balladeer, oh, is he smitten (all his incarnations are but that's besides the point). But unlike his younger selves he has all the means and an equally uncaring mindset for others necessary to actually take action. When he's certain that your kindness isn't just a fad, he's not allowing anyone else to bask in its glow. He's the most unhesitant to do so and you have no choice but to follow along his whims, burdened by your own kindness that deters you from even blaming him.
For Wanderer, it'd take more time than Kabukimono to develop that sort of jealously. Having just recovered his past memories, he's a little overwhelmed, if not confused with his next course of action. At the same time, he's trying to be better. So, letting another person have that kind of grasp on him again will result in prolonged inner debates. He appreciates your kindness albeit, he can't help but wonder if you would still smile at him the same had you known of his past crimes. The anemo vision might've become Wanderer's heart but he still lacks a will to live and if you were to become that will? It's not a stretch to say he wouldn't try to keep all your attention on him and boy does he succeed. All those centuries of trial and error has taught him much and it's finally time to put that experience to good use.
Xiao on the other hand takes much, much more time, not.. necessarily or soley to develop that envy but the awareness of what on Teyvat he's actually doing. The intricacies of human emotions fly over Xiao's head, the only thing he cares to understand is that he likes it when you go out of your way to nurse his wounds despite his protests and pushes, when you greet him and ask how his day went (to which he always answers the same) or as you routinely bring him almond tofu despite his insistence that you needn't do so every single day. He isn't exactly surprised when he sees you treating others similarly, he might even consider himself the lucky one for having the blessing of your warmth. The only instance I see him, technically, hoarding your benevolence is if the people around you meant you harm. Xiao would then simply dispose of them but when that doesn't work anymore? Although it might take immense amount of contemplation and an equally strong push, until Xiao has no choice but to arrange his Adepti realm for a proper stay.
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grison-in-space · 4 months
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Man, Robert Kaleski really is a great counterexample to that whole "the lone autistic eccentric, immersed in his dogged study and obsessions, is the genesis of truth!" trope that you'll sometimes see "aspie supremacists" trot out as part of a justification that autistic (or ADHD) people are Better, Actually.
My good bitches, sometimes what happens is simply that dogged pursuit of one's own pet theories blinds us to the truth of corroborated sources, experimental evidence, and hypothesis testing.
Just because someone is autistic and fixated on a special interest doesn't mean they're right about it. Sure, you can see how someone might look at Dalmatians and cattle dogs and come to a conclusion that some of one might have influenced the other. I reckon that by the 1930s, when the first appearance of the Dalmatian lore appears, Kaleski had enough exposure to Dalmatians to know that they are all born white or almost white and develop the characteristic spots as they grow—just like his beloved heelers develop roan and speckles as they grow. Dalmatians are all almost certainly homozygous for a modifier mutation adjusting the expression of roan that is not found in cattle dogs, but Kaleski can be quite forgiven in the 1930s for not knowing that: the study in question only came out last year. However, he might easily have realized by inquiring to kennel clubs, a Dalmatian club or breeder in his country, or simply perusing various books of British dog breeds — a self admitted enormous pastime! — that his timeline of a dog breed standardized in 1890 being infused to any great degree into his familiar cattle dogs before he personally would have observed evidence of the cross in 1904, after nearly twenty years of studying cattle dogs, is impossible.
Unfortunately, despite his careful observation of things that he felt confirmed his theories about dog function and evolution, he failed to look for any facts that were difficult to reconcile with them. Scholarly study of natural history would immediately have poked holes in his frankly batshit bonkers theory that bears were descendants of Tasmanian devils while dogs and cats derive from thylacine. Miacis was discovered in 1872. Cuvier had famously and correctly identified marsupials as a parallel clade to placental mammals a full century before, in 1816. There was abundant information available to Kaleski with which to test his theories about natural history and the known consensus of the evolution of his local Australian fauna.
Special interests encourage us to absorb, collect, and integrate information that might not strike a neurotypical person as interesting. But there is absolutely nothing about that interest which protects us from collecting and absorbing incorrect ideas, connections, and justifications as we amass our hoards of knowledge. We have to test our own assumptions, every step of the way.
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mommieswithmuscles · 3 months
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EllAbs x Baker!Reader
Free Palestine, don't support Neil
No Minors and No men
CW: Joel lives, Abby leaves the WLF and winds up in Jackson, slow burn, eventual smut, world and relationship building for the first few chapters, read the poll prompt tagged here for context
Title: Sugar Free (1)
You watch Ellie and Dina rush down the street with a few other scouts. You were on your way to the cafeteria to drop off the lunch bread before starting the dinner load when they tore off. "What's going on?" You park the lined wheel barrel with Maria and the kitchen cooks.
"Joel and Tommy went missing." Maria braces herself on the counter. You pass her a special bag from your pack. She takes the bagels graciously.
"I hope they come home safe." You help the kitchen staff unload the still warm loaves and bagels. You then run back and grabbing the birthday fruit pies you made for a few of the kids' birthdays that landed on this day. You wanted to be sure their families had a good time with them.
-
You always keep a pot of hot chocolate ready for the local kids running around and playing in the snow. A few run in and laugh, calling out to ask if you're in. You bring out the coco and fresh soft pretzel snacks you try to keep on hand. They thank you politely before taking seats Ellie helped you restore at the newly stabilized tables.
"Are you staying warm?" You bring in little cups of freshly done cheese dip. A recipe one of the mother figures from your old settlement taught you.
"We try, then Ellie and Dina rough us up," one of the boys pouts. You brush the snow off his cap.
-
You clean up after the kids, starting your last batch for the day. Ellie special requested bagels. You take the small hike back to your house down the street from the bakery. You clean with soap and warm water, running your cleaned glass shard over the fuzz starting to come back over your mound. One last wash and rinse before jogging back to the bakery in a clean change of clothes.
You start the dough, thinking of Ellie's boobs as you knead it. Yes, you were jealous of the kiss she shared with Dina, but you knew she would always come back. She was as addicted to you as you were of her. She wouldn't ever admit it, but the way she lets you pin her against the wall in your bedroom says more than enough.
You shape the dough into rings, yank your pants down, spread your juice on the dough, then drop them on the baking shovel before putting it back in the stone oven.
-
It's dark when they get back. You shut down the shop and left the bagels on your counter for Ellie to collect. You were waiting in the seating area when she rode up, Shimmer waiting patiently as she retrieved her goods. "We have a new girl. WLF escapee."
"That sounds interesting. Where did you find her?"
"Joel and Tommy picked her up from a hoard. We helped clean up." Ellie smirks, shrugs like it was nothing. "It was awesome."
"I bet you were awesome," her cheeks flush and you fix her ruffled collar. "So, you and Dina?" Her head tilts, the smug look gone.
"So uh, you saw that, huh?" Her feet shuffle.
"I did. Was it a one off, or are you taken now?" You cup Ellie's cheek so she keeps her eyes on you.
"It was a one off. I um, I liked it, but her and Jesse are probably getting back together. So um, yeah." Ellie scratches her jaw. You watch her long fingers pick at the skin.
"I'll make you breakfast. Early shift?"
"Sounds- Yeah, sounds great!" Her lips tug upward, but you can tell she's forcing the smile. You press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Her cheeks are red again.
"See you then cutie," you wink, drop your hand so it slides down her shoulder and bicep, and let her leave flushed.
-
Ellie comes in as you're working on the breakfast bread. You made her a special loaf to munch on for the road. Behind her is who you assume is the newbie. "Goodmorning ladies," you greet politely. Ellie takes her bread with a wave, running to her horse and Joel.
"Morning," the tall blonde greets. "I'm Abby." You offer your hand, she shakes it firmly.
"Beautiful name for a beautiful girl," you smile. She's taken a back, scoffs.
"Shut up," she turns, but you catch the blush on her cheeks.
"Make me," you challenge. She glares, but says nothing. "Come sit, have something to eat. You must be starving, you got here long after the kitchen closed." You bring her a fresh loaf from the heated stone.
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orchidbreezefc · 10 months
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i wanna talk about haymitch abernathy.
well, first i wanna talk about the treatment of chemical addiction in the hunger games trilogy. because it's good. a lot of characters, including katniss, struggle with it. it gets explored in considerable depth, and not once is any character looked down on for it (well, aside from some eye-rolling with haymitch and perhaps pity for the 'morphlings' in book 2).
no one is infantilized, dehumanized, or considered weak for their dependency, even when they're incoherent from inebriation or withrawal. addicts are treated with dignity,  and there is only ever respect, understanding, and sympathy for their struggle and for the trauma that led them to this position. the story has no interest in scrutinizing how they got there or whether their behavior is sufficiently justified, only in meeting them where they are.
everyone has suffered at the hands of the capitol, and some people have resorted to substances to cope--even and especially smart, competent people. it's unfortunate and painful for them (and the focus is always on the addict's suffering, not anyone else's) but it's always understood as doing what they had to do. survival is a crucial theme in these books, and this is just another form of it.
this understanding extends to the point that katniss and peeta independently hoard liquor in case haymitch runs out. he's fucking annoying and rude and at that point they have no reason to believe they stand to gain anything from helping him, but they do it anyway because abandoning him would be cruel. it's not ever a question of enabling an alcoholic, it's a question of not letting a man fucking die of withdrawal.
see, rough around the edges is an insufficient description for haymitch; he's rough all the way to the middle. he is a messy, sloppy drunk. he is rude, obnoxious, and venomously cynical. he is also the smartest character in a series full of extremely smart characters.
in the first book all that is said about haymitch's victory is speculation from katniss and peeta. they note that he isnt a standout physical talent and doesnt have any specialized abilities, and deduce that he must have won by outsmarting the others. this is innocuous enough and supported by the shrewdness of haymitch's sponsor gifts and his coaching outside the games.
the recontextualization comes in book 2 when we learn haymitch was the victor of the 50th hunger games, the last quarter quell--which had twice as many tributes as usual. haymitch didn't outsmart 23 other people, up to a third of them having trained for this exact purpose until age 17. haymitch outsmarted 47.
haymitch abernathy? is a big fucking deal. that man waltzed in from The underdog district, unmentored and presumably earning approximately zero sponsor gifts with his winning personality, and won the hardest hunger games there has ever been. haymitch is the most impressive bitch in panem. between this and our increasing insight into how the victors are treated, the alcoholism gets recontextualized too.
imagine how frothingly fucking pissed the capitol is that haymitch is impossible to leverage for any PR purpose whatsoever. like, this is The victor, but what are they gonna do? show off the victor of the hardest hunger games of all time and he's fucking haymitch?
he shows up to every public appearance fall-down drunk and pukes on someone's shoes. every time he's on screen he embarrasses everyone. he makes the hunger games look like a joke and undermines the whole premise. he's supposed to be the capitol's biggest asset and he's pissed all over it. he's useless to them. the best thing they can do is leave him alone.
that's when you think, wait. that's kind of a rebellion in itself, huh? he defies the capitol's efforts to use him as 'a piece in their game' better than anyone else outside district 13, maybe them too, when he should be their favored pawn. he's about as free of their influence as anyone can be. that seems... smart. haymitch-typical smart.
haymitch's alcoholism is real and no doubt a legitimate result of his trauma, but it's also a weapon. he probably plays it up. gets extra trashed for every public appearance, the earlier in the day the better. asks himself what he could do that would horrify effie trinket the most and then does that.
at the same time, haymitch seems to get it together more as the series goes on. from the sound of it he was content to drink himself to death and blow off every tribute in his district before katniss and peeta came along and he recognized in them the potential for revolutionaries and, more importantly, the potential for victors. for the first time he had a real chance to achieve a goal, and the real necessity to be sharp for it.
my guess is that haymitch started making actual efforts to manage his alcoholism from then on. getting sober is pretty much impossible to do on your own, and indeed he has a relapse for every time he improves. but haymitch would have known he'd need any scrap of competence he could snatch. and i think, away from our heroine's perspective, he did. you can play drunk for a camera; you can't play sober for a planning session.
the one thing that really helps with addiction is a support network, and that's the one thing haymitch can never have. it is made blisteringly clear that your loved ones are so much ammunition for the capitol to use against you, and they desperately need some for haymitch. he says his loved ones are all dead, but one wonders if there were more that he made damn sure were no longer loved ones before that happened. maybe haymitch saved some lives by driving people as far away as he could, and doomed himself to succumb to the alcoholism in the process.
on a sillier note, i imagine during katniss and peeta's games haymitch would have needed someone to manage his intake and keep him sober enough to strategize the sponsorships without sending him into withdrawal. and i like to think it was effie trinket.
she'd disapprove at first but dosages and scheduling would be her JAM. plus haymitch would always cave in to her sanctimonious lectures before she caved in to his demands for more. it would be really motivating, actually--"i can endure this. anything's better than hearing one more fucking word from effie goddamn trinket about my health." truly the dream team.
tl;dr i fucking love haymitch abernathy. he's one of the characters of all time. thank you, suzanne collins, for this smart, competent, callous, mean, complex alcoholic who is vital to the revolution. thank you for writing addicts and addiction with the depth, seriousness, complexity, and respect they deserve as human beings.
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bamsara · 1 year
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would love to find a youtube channel that talks about reasonable prepping for things like natural disasters/sudden homelessness and economic disasters because not only have I experienced these but its become a special interest/passion to talk about go-bags and sustainable living and community sharing in times of crisis
except all of the youtube channels I find for prepping are right-winged and chastise you for not hoarding massive amounts of resources in a bunker and think you deserve whats coming if you cant afford the costs
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rustytrident · 1 year
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i think the hc that occupies my brain the most is the "demonic nature is kinda like human world animals' instincts" so here is the breakdown no one asked for: why i believe demons are much less scary after you actually get to know them!
so, in case it hasn't been evident in my three posts and some lint i have about obey me on here (sarcasm) i am obsessed with the idea that even the most powerful of demons aren't able to resist their demonic urges. like their brain kind of blacks out?? and they do whatever tf either demon brain or sin brain (or both) tells them to do.
lucifer checks himself out on every. single. reflective. surface. fixing his collar, combing his hair, straightening his sleeves – he absolutely hates when he realises he does it but demon brain goes "oohhh!!! it's me im here!!" and sin brain goes "ihavetolookmybestatalltimespleasetellmeilookgood". every time he catches himself with his hand midway through his hair he sighs and tries to go on with his day (one time satan and belphie pranked him by putting mirrors everywhere) (they didn't know lucifer has memorised the layout of the hol and can walk anywhere with his eyes closed).
mammon is that one kid that touches anything shiny and sparkly. you could be wearing highlighter and just feel a poke on your cheek. turn around. it's your demon boy. his pupils are dilated. finger still on your face. half a toof fang sticking out of his mouth. fucking elated. glittery shiny sparkly holographic things are his demon brain cocomelon. sin brain just hoards any and all glittery shiny sparkly holographic things he can find. whenever he's upset he watches those slime or chalk asmr videos but they have to be the ones where the creators use a whole bag of glitter (or! or! the ones where people flick brushes full of glitter above their cameras in slow motion yknow the ones).
leviathan has to be quirky different not like other girls. he has to be the one with the most marine knowledge in the family, the one with the most ruri knowledge in the family – you get the point. i believe he has a touch of the demon tism so if you think you know anything about his special interests no you don't. he was actually there when it happened so joke's on you. yes he did witness the creation of the first amoeba now move. he's also that younger sibling that sees you get praise for doing something and does the exact same thing to get praise too. sin brain goes "if they get that then i have to have it". you see him wearing your clothes sometimes and when you think back you remember you got a compliment on it about a week ago (week agoo 🕺💃) and like yeah. makes sense (pls tell him he's pretty pls).
satan has chewy toys and wears a retainer pretty frequently because that wrath may be chronic but them teeth won't stay there for long if he keeps baring them!! he buys new ones once a month because he absolutely tears through them and everyone is just used to him popping in his acrylic retainer every time lucifer comes in the room. he isn't even half ashamed of his toys because trust me it's not a cute sight. this man is one of the most imposing beings you have ever encountered creating holes with his teeth in places you believe there weren't any before through what you're guessing used to be something green and made of rubber, but you aren't too sure. you ask him what's wrong and he just stares at you blankly and goes "nothing? why would anything be?". it's just a casual case of both demon and sin brain going "AUURGHHHDHS *chomp*". absolutely feral unicorn man with the straightest teeth you've ever seen.
asmodeus is in the same predicament as lucifer when it comes to checking himself out but instead he embraces the moment. and checks other people out too, as long as what they're wearing catches his attention. he's a very touchy demon so you can find him absentmindedly having his hands on you without even realising he does it: twirling a strand of your hair, playing with your fingers, tracing your jawline. it's just that demon brain goes "ohoho!! my humnan look at my humin go!!" and can't not touch you after that. he also bites. you think it would be mammon or beel but nope it's asmo!! you're just too pretty and he wants to feel close to you!! don't bring it up though he gets embarrassed. you know that meme where person a says "i wonder what i taste like" and person b says "i can help with that" and a imagines a kiss and b imagines biting person a? yeah, inside asmo are two wolves.
beelzebub is the randomest fucking demon in that household idc. he's always so quiet and you never know what he's thinking until one day he brings home a human world ostrich like it's nothing and gives it a "tour of its new home"??? absolutely insane. he also buzzes randomly?? like you'll be hanging out in the common room and all of a sudden you hear "bbzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz" only for another brother to go "beel. i can't concentrate on my book. please refrain from buzzing inside the house"??? hello??? i think he's got a passion for cleaning too (thousands of years of food and blood stains, crumbs and mould have taught him a couple things) so he is always ready to assist in cleaning his brother's rooms and won't stop until they look brand new. his most demon brain moment is when he lifts things. doesn't matter what or how heavy it is, if he sees something new around him he has to give it a little lift. same thing with the people he's fond of. you have been grabbed by the armpits one too many times to have an impromptu simba moment for three seconds, only for beel to just go on with his day, no explanation. what a demon *sighs dreamily*.
belphegor is the most like his familiars (or at least his habits are most prominent). you see the demon chewing and chewing and chewing like one bite of food and if you dare look at him weird he gives you the cow stare (pls tell me you know what im talking about). you see him in full demon form running headfirst into a wall with his horns (#satan_and_belphie_bonding_activity) and if you dare look at him weird he gives you the cow stare. kinda like his twin, he does random moo or hffphhhmp noises according to his mood without realising ("no belphegor, you can not destroy every wall in this house with your horns" "moOOO"). demon brain goes brrrr with some human world grass and some sunshine. like he absolutely loves being in that mediterranean countryside, twirling some grass between his fingers, eating it, living his life. best brother to go on a picnic with hands down.
fucking dorks *heart eyes*
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