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i-cant-sing · 3 days

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Yandere Batfam x reader who cant feel pain

HEhehehe i just remembered a disease and I just had to write about a reader with it x yandere batfam.

Have you guys heard of CIPA? Its "Congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis" which is basically a genetic condition when a patient cant feel pain to any noxious stimulus and can also not sweat, and yall are probably like "but SNoWWW, that doesnt like a diSEase. More like a superpower!!!" um no. You need to be able to feel pain or else you wont know what part of your body has been injured and get help before its too late. You could have thumbtack plunged in your foot and u wouldnt know unless it got infected and u probably saw ur foot changing color.

And now yall are like "but SNoWw, the anhidrosis part, where u cant sweat, sounds nice! who would to look like a sweaty pig in this age????" NO! Sweating is a necessary physiologic phenomenon because it lets your body cool down as it releases heat. If you dont sweat, you'd overheat and DIE!

Okay now that we've covered the basic info, lets get into it:

So, Batfam finds out about reader when she's just running into danger with little to no care for self preservation, and they dismiss it as you being just another dumb teen wanting to be hero and "change the world". Time passes by and Bruce is impressed by your passion and decides to take you under his wing.

It isnt until months later that Bruce discovers something odd about your behaviour. You were standing in the kitchen with the rest of the batkids, laughing and having a good time when he saw Dick had pulled out a hot pan of cookies from the oven and placed it on the aisle. The pan slipped, and without thinking, you had grabbed the hot pan with your bare hands very calmly and placed it back on the aisle, without so much as a hiss of pain or even a sweat.

And now that he thinks about it, Bruce has never seen you sweat. Not during training, not during summer, not even when after you ran laps around the mansion.

With a quick search on the Internet, he finds out about the disease and of course its Dick who he confides in first about his suspicions. Soon, the rest of the batfam has heard the rumours and now they're all watching you keenly to see if its true.

But Jason is the one who tests out the theory quickly by spilling some hot tea on your hand when you were busy talking to Tim about the importance of sleep. The room goes dead silent as they watch your hand turn red, yet you fail to react. It took you a few seconds to realise that they're all looking at you, and when you follow their gaze, it takes you a few seconds to react.

Or fake a reaction.

You shriek, pulling your reddening hand as you run to the sink and run it under cold water, your mind trying to come up with an excuse. But you know its too late when Bruce's hand comes to clasp your shoulder, pulling you away from the sink as his eyes examine your injured hand and... you.

"Bruce I-"

"I know, Y/n." He gives you assuring nod, carefully bandaging your hand as you sat in his office. "You have CIPA, hm?"

You looked down. Why bother lying? He's Batman, he'll find out anyways.

Bruce lifted your head and smiled gently at you. "Its okay. I'm not disappointed in you. I just... you could've told me." You shook your head. "If I did, you would've treated me differently... like a freak."

He sighed. "You are different, but I would've never treated you like a freak. You're not a freak. If anything, between us, I'm more of a freak than you." He was talking about being a hero, but you giggled at the thought of him referring to being a rich dude who cosplays in spandex.

Bruce cupped your cheek and smiled. "I promise, no one will treat you like a freak. But we will have to take some precautions for your safety."

He lied. You've never felt more like a freak than you do now.

Every single day would start off with Dick waking you up and sticking a thermometer in your mouth because he needs to make sure that you're not overheating, even though Bruce has set a thermostat in your room that he controls and he's programmed it to turn your room temperature change by the hour.

Then Dick would start checking you all over for any bruises or injuries, even a scratch, that you may have caused yourself in your sleep. Originally, Damian was the one who had a whole checklist as he examined your body, but that all ended the moment you smacked him when he asked you to lift your shirt. Dick would just have you go and check yourself in the bathroom and trust you when you said you're all good. Also, you're much nicer to Dick than you are to the rest of the brothers (its his puppy dog eyes and that sweet voice that compels you to do as he asks. He's just too nice.)

Dick would then lead you to down for breakfast with the family, where Alfred already has your glucometer out because of course, they must check your blood sugar level every day, lest they find out you're diabetic or something. Only then would you be served your meal, which is a highly nutritous, perfeclty seasoned, balanced dish because they want to make sure you dont have any vitamin deficiencies (because how would they know???? you dont feel pain). But you cant eat just yet. No no, whichever brother is closer, most often Jason, will first taste your food to make sure its not too hot to consume (because you dont realise you've burned the roof of your mouth that one time when Tim ate a slice of pizza that was fresh out of the oven and huppahhuffpuhh the morsel out). Jason would then give you the go to eat and you finally do. You make sure to finish the whole plate (because otherwise Bruce will make note of it and then interrogate you "medically" why you didnt feel like eating all of it?)

After breakfast, while the rest of the batkids get to go to school and work, you dont (because Bruce thinks that your immune system could be weak and he cant risk you catching any diseases from the outside.) No, you get a special trip to the infirmary where Bruce and Alfred do a more thorough medical check up, taking your vitals, JOTTING IT DOWN, while Alfred hooks you up to an IV drip of vitamins. And even though they go to such extents to ensure that you're healthy, they still take you to a skilled doctor once a week for regular check ups. Bruce wanted to keep the doctor in the house to do daily check ups, but you talked him out of it that you dont want to feel like a lab rat who has her blood taken every day. Once a week is fine, Bruce.

Once the medical check up is done, Bruce would then take you with him, either to Wayne enterprises where you sit in his office as he imparts you "business education that no school can teach you." which you believe because... well he has managed to triple the Wayne wealth even after his parents death. If he's working from home, then he'll let you accompany him in his home office where you can either read a book he chose for you (because Bruce prefers to homseschool you himself) or do a puzzle/case he created specifically for you. If he's working in the batcave, then he'll let you tag along but you can only work here by brainstorming or doing some computer research, but in no way are you allowed to ever go on field and fight. No, not since your last incident.

Just 2 months ago, you were patrolling with Jason (because Bruce refused to let you go alone now. He just wont risk it) and you encountered some bad guys who were a little more well equipped than you two had expected. A fight broke out, and in the process you got hurt badly. Of course, you didnt realise it because you didnt feel any of the punches or the bone fracturing. Jason could only look at you in dread as you smashed your head against the villain's head until the guy passed out, all while your nose bled, you were covered in bruises from top to bottom, AND you had a bone sticking out of your arm.

"Jay? I think I'm hurt?" You asked as blood coated your teeth.

After that, Bruce forbid you from going out on the field altogether because you just dont know when to stop. If it werent for bones sticking out or blood dripping down your face, you wouldnt know that you've been injured.

Anyways, at lunch, almost everyone has returned from work/school and you get yet another balanced meal (temperature tested by another brother). You're now scheduled for some exercises, usually conducted by Damian (under Dick's supervision because otherwise, you'd just be smacking that devil's spawn.) You guys use the gym in the basement, where Damian makes you run on the treadmill for some time, during which he does not take his eyes off you once because he needs to know when he should stop you, especially since you dont sweat or are even huff. If he didnt keep time, you could probably run for a long time and not realise that your legs or lungs are begging you to stop and take a break. As you hop off the machine, he's immediately taking your temperature. He does it after every exercise he makes you do.

After that is done, you spend time with Tim who likes to have you try on little gadgets that should "help you feel pain", but so far, he hasnt had any luck (but he doesn seem to be doing good in disguising trackers in your daily wear things). Oh and Damian loves to join in because he gets to sneak up on you and prick you with needles to help Tim see if your sensory pathways work. They dont, but you dont need your pain receptors to detect Damian coming up behind you as you smack him when he tries to prick you.

Then dinner is served, and then you're ushered straight to bed where Dick, or more often- Bruce has you do a self check like the one Dick does in the morning, but Bruce also makes sure to check your eyes to see if you "accidentally scratched your cornea" or whatever, tucks you in, tells you that he's so proud of you for how youre handling this and that you can come to him anytime, for anything. He kisses your forehead, wishes you goodnight, and leaves.

Half an hour later, Jason sneaks into your room with the goodies- junk food and video games. You two have the strongest bond because Jason is the one who treats you the most normal, and Jason does it partly to piss off Bruce but partly because he cares about your mental health. He knows it cant be good for you to be cooped up in the mansion under supervision like a bird in a gilded cage.

So sometimes, he sneaks you out of the mansion and takes you out on late night rides on his bike. You can even watch him fight villains, but you're sat far away and can never interferre.

Unfortunately for you two, this sneaking out will have to end because Bruce had recently decided to set up some cameras in your room because he wanted to make sure you slept well without any abnormal breathing patterns. Bruce hopes he doesnt have to use restraints on you, because he's not blind. He knows you're uncomfortable with this intricate routine and knowing your impulsive self, you'd probably break your own bones to get out of these restraints. And then he'll be forced to use sedatives and he really doesnt wanna rely on drugs... he likes your company when you're not droopy.

And as Bruce had anticipated, you broke down. You finally tried to leave, and he could see the color draining your face as you realised that there is no leaving.

"Why isnt the door opening?" You asked Bruce, as his four sons slowly surrounded you.

"You dont have to run away, Y/n-" He tried to calm you down but you flinched away, eyes wide as you looked at him like he was going to harm you.

"Bruce, why isnt the fucking door opening?" Your voice trembled, shooting him teary glare before focusing your eyes back on the boys who were closing in on you.

"You're meant to stay here, inside, where its safe." He answered, heart aching at the alarmed stance you took, your fight-or-flight was going to kick in. He took another step towards you, hands raised in surrender. "We can keep you safe-" thats all it took for you to bolt as the boys began chasing you. Realistically, you knew you couldnt escape them but something about their intensely concerned calls for your name had you jumping out of the window.

Glass shattered and sharp shards embedded themselves in your skin and feet, but you didnt react to them. No, your brain wasnt screaming in pain, it was screaming for you to get out!

Adrenaline pumped you to run into the dark woods surrounding the mansion, but you were soon knocked to the ground by Dick, who cushioned your fall by placing you on top of him as his hands wrapped around your form like a cage. "Y/n, calm down and listen-"

You began thrashing in his arms, screaming in agony. "Let ME GO! YOU'RE HURTING ME-!" Dick's arms loosened instinctively and you took that as a chance to elbow him in the throat and run, thanking some deity for letting Dick forget that you cant feel pain.

But your relief is short lived as Damian catches you and pushes you to the ground harshly. "Damian! Be careful! She could break a bone-"

"Bones can heal, Drake." Damian barked back, pulling you up before he pushed you against tree. "Let me go, you maniac-" Damian's hand clamped around your throat, making you shut up. "You're the one who's a maniac. Look at you! You've fucking hurt yourself because if your astounding stupidity!"

You whimpered, clawing at his hand wrapped around your throat. "Dami- p-please let go- you're hurting me!" You cried out, but your eyes went wide as he squeezed your throat and bared his teeth at you. "Not falling for it, dumbass." So... fooling Damian wasnt as easy a feat as it was fooling Dick.

You stopped the act and looked at him dead serious. "Let me go, Damian, or-"

"Or what?"

Or what? Or what? Did he think you were out of options? Out of escape plans?

You dont know why, but that triggered something inside you.

Damian and Tim could only watch as you suddenly slammed the back of your head against the tree. "Y/n-" He gasped in horror as you leaned your head forward before slamming it back against the hard rough surface. This time, Damian's hand that was wrapped around your neck felt your blood around his fingers.

"Its my life and I get to decide how I should live it." You sneered before raising your head again to bash it, but Damian's hand quickly slipped from your neck to the back of your head, cushioning it when you smacked it back, the skin on the back of his hand breaking as it made contact with the bark.

You pushed him away and tried to make a run for it, but Tim grabbed your wrist. You tried to pull away, but he had a death grip on it. "Y/n, stop! You need to listen-"

"Oh is that so? I think I need this." You used your other hand to punch yourself in the face (because Tim would've dodged it if you punched him), making your nose bleed. But you didnt feel any pain, and now you were acting like a super soldier zombie that has no concept of self preservation who is going through fucked up lengths to prove her point.

Your eyes caught the sight of a glass shard poking out of your thigh. "Wanna see something cool?" You pulled out the shard, not paying mind to the blood oozing out. "Y/n, stop-" Tim begged, and you saw Damian froze in the back as you raised the shard.

They didnt know what your next target was- slashing your wrists, slitting your throat, or stabbing your stomach, but fortunately, they didnt have to find out as Jason came up behind you and injected you with a tranquilliser.

Sadly, you never felt the prick or sensed the hero sneaking up behind you.

thoughts? also, what other diseases would u guys like me to write for. i just adore these cool medical abnormalities lol

#yandere batfam #yandere batman #yandere batboys #yandere bruce wayne #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere jason todd #yandere dick grayson #yandere damian wayne #yandere damian x reader #yandere tim drake #yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere family

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esterigermaine · 5 months

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We know the concept of albinism exists for at least Drow, but I wonder if it exists for other DnD races as well.

What I am trying to say is do you think Astarion has ever (or would be willing to) tried to pass himself off as an Elf with albinism?

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #i know people with it have blue eyes and not red like many animals with it but this is fantasy so it might still work #totally not a vampire #he just looks like that because he has a genetic condition #and avoids direct sunlight because he burns easily #i mean the burning easily bit isn't a lie #just a debate on HOW easily and badly he burns #maybe he can say he has some drow blood somewhere down the line and that is why his eyes are how they are #point is I'm sure he has gotten questioned on his odd (for a high elf) coloration before and I'm curious how he went about it.

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fillinforlater · 4 months

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Pink Sheets of the Gangbang Queen

Male Reader x Kim Gaeul

Length: 1759 words

Tags: post-gangbang-unclarity, a fuckton of cum, the biggest creampies you can imagine, sluttiest_woman_ever!Gaeul, riding, reverse cowgirl, mating press, cumming again, surprisingly sweet

TW: nasty, a lot of cum by different people

Credit: @friskyriskywhisky had the idea and wrote most of it, I just expanded it as far as I could. Maybe there will be more Gangbang Queen stuff, but this was basically just a double BFH lol

(A/N: Have fun with this crazy, short piece!)

“I want one more…”

Gaeul lies on her nasty bed, which is not only the size of a New York apartment room but also a lot more comfortable. The fresh evidence of sin is all over the once royal pink bedsheet befitting of a princess, a queen to be more accurate. Her comically large pillow is full of wet fingerprints, there are even hints of Gaeul bending over it because she loves it when men penetrate her from behind and fuck her into the soft thing. The headboard and the walls nearby are all smeared with her own slick and the cum from the dozen of guys who unloaded a week's worth and then some for her, on her, because of her. Who knows how much genetic coding is now dripping down those walls, or the side of her bed or along her thighs.

Either way, Gaeul knows that the pungent creampie of hers only feels this good because at least ten horny men put their spunk deep into her cunt. Be it fat cocks, long ones, small, smelly, oddly shaped—Gaeul takes them all and her insides shape to each accordingly. For the horde of cocks it’s an incredible feeling with a surprising snugness, while Gaeul yearns and shouts (as long as there is no shaft testing her gag reflex) for them to finish quickly and deep. Though a marvelous feeling, she is never satisfied. She needs one more, she doesn’t even care if it’s the tiniest rest or a gigantic, creamy load—all that matters is that he cums inside her.

Gaeul’s once-animated and sex-crazed sexual partners have either left or completely passed out on the floor next to her bed—except lucky you, the only one lying naked next to her. Lucky you, who she now eyes, admiring your features while you're half asleep. She crawls over and gently flips you onto your back, stirring you awake in the process.

In your state of extreme grogginess, you aren't able to tell at first if you're being eaten alive or attacked by a savage animal. Just when your fight or flight response springs into action, a pair of lips press against yours. They instantly calm you down like a mothers embrace after a lucid nightmare. You can't help but smile unconsciously at how gentle it feels. Gaeul’s floral-scented shampoo reassures you who's currently kissing you, her touchy, wet and tender fingers reminding you of the first time she checked out your body…

It was a rainy night in one of the many underground bars in Seoul—the type of bar that makes you raise an eyebrow at first, someone with connections has recommended it, looks suspicious; then you fell into the trap of fun conversations and nice liquor that ultimately led to a selection ceremony. This was the moment you realized why this was not a commonly visited place.

Everyone went silent at her entry. Gaeul, the well-known (at least for most people that regularly visit these exclusive bars) gangbang queen was craving men tonight, many men. She was not picky, in fact, there was only one condition you had to fulfill:

“Three days worth of cum. If you had sex or jerked off during the last three days, you’re out for tonight.”

No one dared to defy her or lie to her. She diligently checked everyone’s balls and was extremely thorough, especially with you, who she gently pushed against a bar stool, hand past your waistband. Your breath hitched, hers too when her slender fingers caressed your balls.

“Tall, horny—and at least ten days of cum.

“I’d love for you to join the after party in my pink bed.”

That’s how Gaeul found you, touched you, lured you in and turned you on, like she does at this moment…

It's been minutes now, with no signs of stopping or letting go from Gaeul, her lips still fully attached to yours just to occasionally back off and peck at it again. The last remnants of a dream that could never match this disappear. They are replaced by memories that slowly creep back and your heart drops. You remember what happened not long ago, right on these pink sheets—don’t lie to yourself, you know it happens every other night.

Those soft lips of hers were satisfying other men not too long ago, fully enveloped around shafts of different shapes and sizes. That tongue of hers glided across the cockhead of multiple partners and made sure that no spot on their balls was left out. She would fill her mouth with as much manly musk and precum as she could before her throat was getting assaulted by who knows how many cocks, endlessly coating the back of it with thick cum and forcing her to gag and cry, which everyone knows is a huge turn on for the gangbang queen.

It’s those lips that form a seal around yours and it’s that mouth you attack lazily with your tongue.

Who are you to complain though? Gaeul is the greatest kisser your lips have ever met. Your obsession with her took control of your life even though you had no chance with her. You're just a nobody when Gaeul is the well-beloved queen. The gangbang queen - for those close enough to be her little circle filled with lust and desire. Yet somehow you saw a chance and took it, even if it means taking sloppy seconds (or thirds? Fifths? Wait, how many guys are here again?).

Your mind snaps back to the present when you feel your cock poking at her entrance. Hang on, did she even—fuck! You shiver in both pleasure and disgust. You're plunged into her sloppy cunt, extremely tight, even after being abused by multiple men (some girthier than the ridiculous sex toys she has in her collection).

Gaeul’s walls hug your tip first, then slowly adjust to your size, like they have become your personal sexy toy. The pleasure really kicks in when the gangbang queen puts your hands on her hips and adds your name into the mixture of huffs and moans. Her incredibly damp cavern and how slippery her whole crotch is against your own, it displays a reality you don't want to admit: You're fucking Gaeul through the creampie of other men. Using the foreign substance as a sticky wannabe lube as you slowly ramp up your pace, you're thinking with your other head only; that’s not an uncommon occurrence with the gangbang queen around.

Sex with her has you drunk, dazed, carelessly chasing your own high. You want to be the only one to have your load inside of her cunt. Gaeul yearns for breeding, and the sperm of all the other disgusting men, still unconscious in this room is deemed not enough. At this moment you decide to fuck the creampie out of her and replace it with your own.

You're frantically thrusting in and out of her, she replicates your passion as she rides you. Heaps of old cum get forced out with the assistance of gravity but mainly due to the pump that is your cock and the endless pumping into her cunt. Gaeul switches to a reverse cowgirl position and it's only now that you notice that her ass got absolutely filled as well.

This should not be a surprise, she is the gangbang queen after all, yet you want to look away. This is exclusively other men's cum leaking out of Gaeul and onto your abs. It feels extremely wrong, fucking filthy and somewhat gross. The eagerness of the girl on your dick makes you forget that though. For a short while, you just admire her back, her small, shapely ass and the way her moans are in perfect harmony with the sound of flesh hitting flesh and cum being squeezed out.

With your whole cock still buried inside her, bottoming her out, you two clumsily get into a mating press position. Gaeul is the most flexible girl you know, her small frame easily capable of folding and bending into every position you want. This position quickly becomes your favorite, because you don’t have to see her leaking asshole anymore, but you know that she is gaping and the worthless spunk steadily leaves her anal cavity.

Every time you thrust into her, you see and feel her whole ass and thighs ripple. Shock waves across the smooth, stretched, spotless skin gets sent in all kinds of directions because you dig your hands into it. There's still a disgusting amount of cum defying gravity, defying your forceful pounding into Gaeul, but you are sure that if you just keep on fucking her, and press her whole body into the mattress, the petite gangbang queen will leak out all the rest. Through the lewdest of sounds and a clear lack of stamina, the thought of Gaeul filled with nothing but you pushes you through.

You feel the knot inside you loosen, strings and little last spurts of cum hitting her cervix as your tip is right up against it. Gaeul has her feet right up against your back, her heels pulling you deeper inside her. She's still rutting against you, her clit drawing circles against your crotch enjoying the friction and satisfaction it brings. The art of the orgasm, Gaeul has mastered it. In her scream, you find an infinite sea of bliss. It draws out your orgasm a few more seconds; perfect seconds.

Post-nut clarity kicks in and you try to block out the other people who are regaining consciousness in the room. Witness how ethereal her beauty is under the ceiling light. You want to kiss her. You want to tell her how much you love her. However, the harsh reality kicks in harder than the post-nut clarity as she shifts her gaze away from you and looks at the time. You close your eyes, take a deep breath to cherish just how fucking good her cock-warming cavern is.

You pull away, unfazed at the mess in front of you at this point. Party time is over and you’re victorious but defeated, a bit deflated even. Why is the girl you’re falling for the wrong type of queen?

"Hey..." Gaeul reaches out and grabs your forearm and pulls you a little closer to give you one last peck on your cheek. "Drive safely, okay?” Her fingers tiptoe towards your hand until it reaches the back of your it, her thumb gently rubs circles on it. A new level of intimacy that makes your heart stutter. “Message me when you’re back home."

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #ive smut #male reader smut #gaeul smut #kim gaeul smut #ive gaeul smut

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rottenomelet · 8 months

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yandere jjk thoughts

warning:: nsfw! i’m eighteen and you should be too! hints of kidnapping, non-con, and coercion. nothing is ever really explicitly stated but - still.

a/n: there’s no real rhyme or reason behind this - winter is just my favorite time to snuggle up and read about crazy ppl. also i wrote this in lowercase originally so u see a spot i missed, no u didnt. u can leave requests for different characters if u wanna

Gojo Satoru

In no world could I ever imagine Gojo Satoru treating you like a real human being.

He is the strongest. There is no one who could destroy him. He can see all. And the issue isn’t just that he’s the best, it’s that he’s been told that since the day he opened his bright eyes. He has a big ego and it’s justified because there is no one better than him.

And sure he’ll indulge you. He'll laugh at your jokes and console you when you cry. But in the back of his mind, in every kiss to your forehead, in every smile, there will always be a domineering aspect. Because he knows that you are insignificant in the grand scheme of the world. you are only important because he deemed you worth something.

You’re not quite a toy or a pet to him. You’re more like - an indoor plant to him. Something that needs nurturing from his caring hands, watering and sunlight granted to you by him. You adapt and grow according to his needs and his conditions. But at the same time, you are to be cherished. never handled too roughly, case you begin to wilt. You don’t have to do much but sit and be nurtured and be pretty while he gives you whatever he deems necessary for your survival.

It fascinates him, really, how simple your little life is. How much you don’t know and never will know because as a flower, all you need to understand is that water and sunlight and love are given to you before you’ll even realize that you need it.

But you still have a job to be pretty and sometimes that’s sitting on the bed, still, as he observes you or bouncing on his cock. It just depends on the day.

Geto Suguru

Suguru is a calm man, a quiet man. He makes decisions based on logic. He is not exactly one for emotional outbursts, and even at his angriest, he rarely raises his voice.

But you.

A little non-sorcerer that can’t even see curses somehow made him look twice. Little unimportant you constantly runs through his mind. What you’re doing, what you’ve eaten, what places you’ve gone to. Who you’ve talked to, who your friends are. Your hobbies, your interests. Your lips and your eyes and that special something between your legs.

Just thinking about you, even innocently, makes him harden. It’s uncomfortable, it’s infuriating, it’s maddening.

He thought, surely someone in your family was a sorcerer, a powerful one at that. But no, your family is normal. You are, genetically, as average as they come.

He doesn’t treat you softly at first, doesn’t have a mind to. You’re a filthy little nothing, after all. When he fucks, he fucks without care. Suguru treats you like a doll, not made of porcelain but made of cloth, one he can throw around and still be in decent condition. He keeps a hand pressed to your mouth, to keep your voice down. A blindfold around your eyes so he doesn’t have to look into them. Your hands are bound behind your back so you don't touch him even by accident. Flat on your stomach, unable to see or feel or say anything is how you find yourself every time. He doesn’t even come inside of you, the only thing you’re grateful for.

It’s scary, how roughly he treats you. But it’s downright terrifying when he begins to lay softer hands upon you, begins to kiss instead of bite, caress instead of pinch.

Nanami Kento

He is a very traditional and stern man.

You are, silly, to him. stumbling and bumping and in general, unsure of yourself and what to do. But he sees potential. Even when you’ve tripped over thin air or broken something by accident, there’s a certain grace to your movements. A grace he wants to harvest and invest in.

And while he wants to give you direction, he also doesn’t have the patience or time to teach you like he wants. So, it’s best to ‘learn on the job’ when it comes to Kento.

Learn how to cook his favorite meals and bake the sweets he loves just right. When he’s okay with speaking and when he needs quiet. Remembering to kiss him goodbye every morning and remove his coat for him every night.

Learn how to suck his cock right - which vein is most sensitive, when to suckle and gag and slurp, what noises to make, and remember to always always swallow. He hates messes after all.

Learn his favorite positions. The lingerie sets he like best. How loudly he wants you to be. Accept his cum in your tummy with a smile.

It’s not hard - please him and you will be rewarded. Rewarded with pleasure, with time outside, with gentle hands.

And if you stumble or forget, he will easily remind you of your job.

Mahito

You’re his personal entertainment. You’re an experiment.

Mahito is incredibly laid-back, even lazy to an extent. He lets you roam and explore and fall. He doesn’t care what you do as long as you stay within the four walls he’s placed you in.

It's hard to understand him. For a curse, he’s always laughing, finding almost child-like joy in the most odd things. Whether that’s watching an animal documentary or wondering if a human’s neck can extend like the turtles on TV.

One thing you do know is that he likes games and he likes playing with you. The only problem is you don’t when the game starts and ends, the rules or even if you’re playing right. Oftentimes, you find yourself playing a game that you don’t know the rules of and Mahito has named himself the gamekeeper.

He usually starts by asking a question. Something simple like “What time did you wake up?” or “What did you eat today?”. You find out the hard way that no matter what you say, you’re always wrong.

Say you woke up at ten? Then you’ll find yourself pressing into the mattress, drooling on your pillow as he drills you, punishing you for waking so late in the day. You had a slice of cake earlier? Then don’t be surprised when you’re in the kitchen licking icing off his cock as punishment for an unhealthy lunch.

Itadori Yuuji

He's the jock that gave you a chance. That made you feel special and pretty and popular.

He's sweet. He gives you his hoodie when you’re cold. He drives you home after school. Buys you lunch when you can’t afford it. Takes you on nice dates.

He wants you sitting front row at all his games, wearing his varsity jacket so everyone knows you’re his girl. He twirls you and kisses you in front of the whole school when he wins, the whole thing right of a cheesy rom-com.

But, surely, you didn’t think he was doing all that for free? No, he wants compensation. He deserves a reward for treating you so sweetly. It's only fair.

It doesn’t matter if you’re ‘not ready’. No, no, you’re just nervous, sweetheart. But he’ll be gentle with you so calm down. Yeah, calm down when he slides a hand up your skirt on a date to the movies. Be quiet when he asks you for head in the janitor’s closet between classes. And don’t make a fuss when he slips his cock inside of you, raw, even though you begged him to use a condom.

‘Rubbers hurt,’ he says. ‘It feels better raw’,’ he pleads. ‘Don’t worry - I'll pull out.,’ he promises.

And you better be understanding when he comes inside of you. Afterall, he’ll buy you a plan b.

Choso

Whatever you do, do not stress this man.

He’s going through enough as is. The last thing he needs from you is any attitude or ungratefulness. Even an upset face will have you with your knees pushed beside your head and Choso making you scream, all while watching you with that same tired expression.

Choso is the oldest of ten siblings. He is used to dealing with bratty behavior. He handles your tantrums with grace - once you’ve finished throwing things and screaming, he’ll only ask if you're finished. And then he will be upon you.

But, beyond punishment, he is caring and quiet. He prefers it when you speak, likes it when you prattle on about your day or your favorite show. He likes it when you’re happy.

#yandere #yandere jjk #tw yandere #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo #yandere geto suguru #yandere geto #yandere mahito #yandere nanami kento #yandere nanami #yandere itadori yuuji #yandere itadori #yandere choso #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #rottenomelet

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ghcstao3 · 5 months

Note

Soap returns from a solo mission bitten by a werewolf. He is now Ghost's height, much stronger, has sharper teeth 24/7 and senses dialed up to 15.

He can't hide it at all and has to answer many questions from 141 and medical.

Had it been someone like Ghost, then maybe the change would’ve gone undetected longer than the near-instant discovery of Soap’s… condition… upon returning to base.

But alas, it wasn’t—and no matter who, everyone is at a complete loss. Because what is one meant to do with a suddenly souped-up soldier?

That’s still to be determined.

“What do you mean ‘genetically modified wolves’?” Price frowns. “You were sent after an arms dealer.”

Soap shrugs shoulders that are too broad to truly be his. He still looks like he’s trying to figure out how to fit new, bigger, sharper teeth comfortably in his mouth, but failure has been evident in the slight lisp the sergeant has since gained.

“S’what I said, Cap,” Soap says. “Dunno what else I can tell you, other than I got scratched up real good by one.”

The sergeant lifts the hem of his partially-torn shirt to show where, presumably, he’d been injured—but there’s nothing more than a few angry red lines and dried blood.

“Christ,” Price sighs. He scrubs at his face, then lifting his hat a moment to drag a tired hand through his hair. His exasperation settles in pinching the bridge of his nose.

Though, only for a few seconds. Price is then squaring his shoulders, resetting his stance, and turning to the two other members of his task force that had been hovering all the while. He points to Gaz and Ghost.

“At least one of you stay here, make sure he doesn’t go anywhere,” he orders. “Get medical to run tests, but nothing too extensive. I have—“ Another long-suffering sigh. “—several calls to make.”

Ghost elbows Gaz just as the sergeant looks about to make a quip at Price’s expense. A gesture that says, save it.

Price stalks out of the room, tense. Soap shoots a sheepish fanged grin at Ghost and Gaz.

This would be an interesting next few days. No matter who this was to happen to.

Soap just happened to be the unlucky victim this time, apparently.

#ask #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #task force 141 #writing

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memecucker · 2 years

Text

The family tree of humanity is much more interconnected than we tend to think. “We’re culturally bound and psychologically conditioned to not think about ancestry in very broad terms,” Rutherford says. Genealogists can only focus on one branch of a family tree at a time, making it easy to forget how many forebears each of us has.

Imagine counting all your ancestors as you trace your family tree back in time. In the nth generation before the present, your family tree has 2n slots: two for parents, four for grandparents, eight for great-grandparents, and so on. The number of slots grows exponentially. By the 33rd generation—about 800 to 1,000 years ago—you have more than eight billion of them. That is more than the number of people alive today, and it is certainly a much larger figure than the world population a millennium ago.

This seeming paradox has a simple resolution: “Branches of your family tree don’t consistently diverge,” Rutherford says. Instead “they begin to loop back into each other.” As a result, many of your ancestors occupy multiple slots in your family tree. For example, “your great-great-great-great-great-grandmother might have also been your great-great-great-great-aunt,” he explains.

The consequence of humanity being “incredibly inbred” is that we are all related much more closely than our intuition suggests, Rutherford says. Take, for instance, the last person from whom everyone on the planet today is descended. In 2004 mathematical modeling and computer simulations by a group of statisticians led by Douglas Rohde, then at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, indicated that our most recent common ancestor probably lived no earlier than 1400 B.C. and possibly as recently as A.D. 55. In the time of Egypt’s Queen Nefertiti, someone from whom we are all descended was likely alive somewhere in the world.

Go back a bit further, and you reach a date when our family trees share not just one ancestor in common but every ancestor in common. At this date, called the genetic isopoint, the family trees of any two people on the earth now, no matter how distantly related they seem, trace back to the same set of individuals. “If you were alive at the genetic isopoint, then you are the ancestor of either everyone alive today or no one alive today,” Rutherford says. Humans left Africa and began dispersing throughout the world at least 120,000 years ago, but the genetic isopoint occurred much more recently—somewhere between 5300 and 2200 B.C., according to Rohde’s calculations.

At first glance, these dates may seem much too recent to account for long-isolated Indigenous communities in South America and elsewhere. But “genetic information spreads rapidly through generational time,” Rutherford explains. Beginning in 1492, “you begin to see the European genes flowing in every direction until our estimates are that there are no people in South America today who don’t have European ancestry.”

In fact, even more recent than the global genetic isopoint is the one for people with recent European ancestry. Researchers using genomic data place the latter date around A.D. 1000. So Christopher Lee’s royal lineage is unexceptional: because Charlemagne lived before the isopoint and has living descendants, everyone with European ancestry is directly descended from him. In a similar vein, nearly everyone with Jewish ancestry, whether Ashkenazic or Sephardic, has ancestors who were expelled from Spain beginning in 1492. “It’s a very nice example of a small world but looking to the past,” says Susanna Manrubia, a theoretical evolutionary biologist at the Spanish National Center for Biotechnology.

Not everyone of European ancestry carries genes passed down by Charlemagne, however. Nor does every Jew carry genes from their Sephardic ancestors expelled from Spain. People are more closely related genealogically than genetically for a simple mathematical reason: a given gene is passed down to a child by only one parent, not both. In a simple statistical model, Manrubia and her colleagues showed that the average number of generations separating two random present-day individuals from a common genealogical ancestor depends on the logarithm of the relevant population’s size. For large populations, this number is much smaller than the population size itself because the number of possible genealogical connections between individuals doubles with each preceding generation. By contrast, the average number of generations separating two random present-day individuals from a common genetic ancestor is linearly proportional to the population size because each gene can be traced through only one line of a person’s family tree. Although Manrubia’s model unrealistically assumed the population size did not change with time, the results still apply in the real world, she says.

Because of the random reshuffling of genes in each successive generation, some of your ancestors contribute disproportionately to your genome, while others contribute nothing at all. According to calculations by geneticist Graham Coop of the University of California, Davis, you carry genes from fewer than half of your forebears from 11 generations back. Still, all the genes present in today’s human population can be traced to the people alive at the genetic isopoint. “If you are interested in what your ancestors have contributed to the present time, you have to look at the population of all the people that coexist with you,” Manrubia says. “All of them carry the genes of your ancestors because we share the [same] ancestors.”

And because the genetic isopoint occurred so recently, Rutherford says, “in relation to race, it absolutely, categorically demolishes the idea of lineage purity.” No person has forebears from just one ethnic background or region of the world. And your genealogical connections to the entire globe mean that not too long ago your ancestors were involved in every event in world history.

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radiance1 · 8 months

Text

[Another Teddy Bear Danny au]

So after the accident, 5-year-old Danny didn't end up in the zone, but instead on his parents basement floor like usual.

A while later his parents have been running tests on him, nothing that would hurt, only things like checking the condition of his body, using a stethoscope to see if he still had a heart, drawing a bit of lifeblood (via syringe) and testing his genetic makeup.

Nothing like dissection, like they would've wanted to do to any other ghost, but not to their son, never. Every test they put him through is utterly safe and harmless.

Like, a visit to the doctor's office.

Even giving him some candy for his efforts, when they found out he could manipulate his body to gain a mouth and the cutest little fangs. Surprisingly, he still had organs, except his stomach acid has been replaced by ectoplasm, that seemed to breakdown whatever food thrown in there into pure energy.

After the tests, they send him off so they could... work on a few things. Mostly the results of their tests, and how to make the ghost portal decidedly less lethal than it was currently capable of being to not have a repeat of this incident.

After working through all of the tests they could do, they finally let him leave the house, after determining that everything should be fine for his current body.

What a mistake that was.

You see, not a lot of people in Amity Park really practiced stranger danger. Everyone looked out for each other, most people knew everyone in certain ways, and tourists were basically null, so they didn't have much to fear in that area.

So, children were just allowed to go out and about because they basically knew most of the adults.

Of course, such a thing came back to bite them hard in the ass. For under a little a week, was Danny kidnapped.

By who? The Fentons had no way of knowing.

===

Danny really liked the man in white, they were really nice! Heapproached him while he was out on the playground. Jazz dropped him off here and said she would be back in a few minutes because she wanted to go get something that she forgot, even said on the way back she would get ice cream!

A while later, while he was trying to climb up the ladder of the slide, he was struggling to do so, then the guy helped him up to the top of the slide! He even did it more than once too!

Then, when he was in the sandpit, he was a bit weirded out because the sudden lack of kids in the playground, but it was fine! The guy even helped him make sandcastles, he was really, really good at making sandcastles, and even helped Danny make the bestest one he's ever seen!

Another while later, and Danny was getting a bit concerned about where Jazz was, she said she wouldn't be long, but it was a while since he saw her. He was waiting with his new friend for a bit, before a bit more time later his friend suggested that they go find her.

So, Danny sat in his friend's arm, and they left to go find his sister.

===

Jazz was running far later than she thought she would've. Due to repeated interruptions along the way, but she bought Danny a bigger portion of ice cream as apology, so she hopes he would forgive her for taking so long.

When she got there, the ground was entirely empty.

She looked around desperately for her brother, before running home to tell her parents.

===

Danny like experiments, so they didn't hurt, only felt a lil bit funny, like ticklish funny, and he gets some candy at the end of it too!

So, yea, Danny did like experiments.

Now though, he found he only liked the experiments done by his parents. They didn't hurt, and felt comfortable and safe because his parents were there and because they made it as comfortable as they could.

But the ones done by the people in white suits and lab coats didn't feel comfortable, or safe.

They hurt.

Blunt things didn't hurt, as they soon realized because of his cotton stuffed body, and his organs were also quite resilient to blunt force. Then they cut him open, and that hurt, hurt so much that he cried and wailed and shook his everything to try and get them to stop.

But they didn't stop, never stopped. They even took pride and joy in making him squirm around. They looked at and treated him as if he wasn't even human, which yea he techna- technicly- technically wasn't anymore since he heard his parents talking about it but still, they were being really mean.

They said words that went right over his head, at least when his parents used words like that, hey explained what it meant in smaller words.

He hated this place, he hated the men in white suits, and he hated the ones in lab coats even more.

He wanted to go back home.

===

5 years later, the GIW base was raided due the Anti-Ecto acts being a violation of rights, unearthed by the Fentons and brought to light by the Justice League.

The heroes who raided the base found multiple ghosts held captive, the most sickening thing being that the oldest ghost wasn't even 20, only being 18 years of age, when asked their age.

They opened up a room that was locked down tightly for some reason, perhaps a volatile experiment gone wrong or perhaps, another Conner situation. But no, all that was there were two Teddy Bears stuffed away in the corner, trying to make themselves even smaller than they already was in a desperate attempt to not be seen, when they hesitantly stepped in the room, one of them removed itself from the other one, spreading its arms out to either side of itself and standing in front of the other one protectively.

Its face shifted, as a mouth appeared. It bared its fangs and let out a low, animal-like growl as ice started to spread onto the ground from itself and a mist fell from its mouth.

===

Danny didn't know what the muffled sounds that managed to penetrate the wall meant, not what was causing them exactly. Maybe they caught a new ghost? He didn't know.

When a while later, did the door to their cell prison open, did Danny have a choice to make, one he didn't even need to think twice about. He may not know all of his powers correctly, nor know how to properly use them and he most likely wouldn't be able to do much damage.

But he wasn't about to let them hurt his new baby sister, sure, she may be a clone and they expected him to not like her. But he didn't care what they thought, if they think they could take her without a fight.

Well, they were dead wrong.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #Edit tags:#The second bear is Dani btw #Vlad is also one of the GIW's experiments due to his ecto-achne #They took a wee bit of his blood and tried to make their own 'halfa' like how Danny is #Since Vlad is the closest thing they had to Danny's biology

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oleander-nin · 5 months

Text

Vampire ROTTMNT Headcanons

A/N, not important: You're probably thinking "Ollie, this is so short and wonky? What gives?" And to that, I say: I didn't know whether to make it old timey, how they became vamps, etc, so I'm going with this version for the normal rise, and a Victorian version for the Yan and I'll just bounce them around sometimes whenever I revisit this trope. I have how I want vampires to act, just not sure how/when I want the rise boys to be vamps. Feel free to ask questions if you need clarification or want a certain thing answered. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Blood drives, mention of needles, blood, being bitten, animal deaths mentioned, vampires

Words: 2127

Summary: My Basic Vampire ROTTMNT Headcanons

Tag list: @f1oricide

They all got infected/turned after being bit by a vampire bat mutant.

Mikey:

Mikey has the longest canines of his brothers, something that causes him to avoid feeding on living things as much as he can. He tried once and felt awful for the cries it made, so he usually goes out and tries to find newly deceased animals, or steals from a butcher. Will also kill animals if he has to. His longer canines also make it harder for him to hide his ‘condition’, but he’ll usually brush accusations off with comments of genetics or his mutation.

Constantly bites his lips while talking, the long fangs getting in his way. He basically has to relearn how to enunciate his words due to them. He gets easily frustrated by his inability to speak well, and gets irritated easier because he can’t explain why he’s feeling upset.

He’s able to adjust to most of the new abilities fairly easily, as all of them are already incredibly strong and fast due to their mutation. The night vision and sensitivity to light, however, excites him. He’s content to wear sunglasses during the day if they need to go out, and the ability to see better in the dark makes their night missions a lot easier. Plus, he’s now able to stay up all night painting without alerting his brothers to him being up so late.

Absolutely despises that he basically can’t cook anymore. He still makes food for his father, but he can’t even touch half the best ingredients without gagging anymore. Food smells rancid at best, and tastes thick and unsavory no matter how much he tries to fix it.

He’s always trying to snuggle up with you now, his skin constantly cold from the lack of circulation. He likes to latch onto you and bury his face into your stomach, trying to pretend he’s still alive and well.

He likes to bite the deltoid of your shoulder the most because he can hug you close while he does it, but still drape himself over you. You’re the only human blood he usually gets, but he only does it when you offer it first. He doesn’t want to accidentally pressure you into letting him feed off you if you’re not comfortable with it.

Hates to think that he won’t age with you. As he starts to grow faster than normal via the virus, he’s constantly having growing pains and this causes him to come to you for comfort more. He doesn’t like that he’s basically shooting into adulthood, and since none of them have experienced it before, they aren’t sure when it will stop. When it peaks when they seem to be in their mid twenties, Mikey just feels sad. You may not have aged a decade in a year, but your aging never stops. He’s terrified to watch your years pass by without him.

Donnie:

Donnie has the shortest canines, which causes him to look the most ‘normal’ to his original self. He prefers to have human blood, solely taste wise, but usually has SHELLDON get it for him rather than hunting himself because he hates drinking straight from the source. He transfers it into bottles or bags so he can save it and stock up. He avoids drinking from animals mainly because he doesn’t trust them to have parasites or rabies, and while he isn’t happy about drinking from random humans, he can at least hack into their medical records first. Donnie chooses his blood incredibly carefully.

You and April(if she lets him) are the only people he’ll feed on directly. If April lets him, he’ll usually do it like a blood drive and just take a small bit of her blood into a blood bag. For you, it depends. If you’re scared of needles, he’ll just do it the ‘normal’ way, but if not, he’ll let you choose to get it done via blood collection. Where he likes to bite depends on his mood. Sometimes the neck is easiest because you’re just right there and he hasn’t eaten in hours. Sometimes the lower shoulder or the wrist is better because you’re both just trying to get it over with.

He keeps a journal of all the changes that happen to him and his brothers, wanting to keep a list in case they come across someone else it happens to. Their entire mutation/transition is well documented so he doesn’t forget what it was like when it first happened.

It takes him a hot minute to get used to his new heightened senses. His least favorite is his sensitive smell, as anytime he goes near something pungent, he feels physically ill. It takes him a while to go back to the junkyard, the rust and oil making his head spin until he adjusts. He adds stronger noise dampeners to his goggle headset to block out unwanted noise when he needs silence.

He’s constantly complaining of his growing cramps, using you as a pillow more and more now that his hands are stiff from both working and from growing. His mood sours for a long time due to the countless changes he doesn’t want. The only good thing he seems to find from it is that being a vampire will improve his ‘bad boy image’. He completely negates this by curling into you after his legs cramp up and ends up cuddling you for hours.

As soon as he realizes that he will outlive you by a longshot, he tries to find a way to either elongate your life, or shorten his. He refuses to let you leave him. While he’s excited for many years to practice science, the thought of losing you terrifies him, especially since he thought he’d die with you, rather than live on for a millennia afterwards.

Raph:

Is already used to the fangs due to his snaggle tooth. While everyone else is accidentally biting their own lips and tripping over their tongue, he’s able to navigate the new longer teeth fairly easily. He still accidentally bites his tongue a couple of times, but less so than his brothers.

Hates to bite others, and usually feeds on animals. He doesn’t want to be seen as a monster any more than he knows he would already be considered. He avoids feeding for as long as he can, and even tried to continue eating ‘normal’ food for a while, until they all realized it gave them net zero nutrition so they couldn’t survive off it. He eventually gets more used to it and starts eating what he should, but for the first few months he feels incredibly guilty and tries to only eat enough to last a couple hours.

Raph tells you of his new ‘infection’ immediately. He doesn’t want you to figure out accidentally by catching him drinking blood or something.

While he hates biting you, his favorite place to is your shoulder. He likes to have you cuddle into him with your back against his chest so he can just bury his snout into the crook of your neck. The first time he bit you was an accident while he was asleep, and since he wasn’t eating as much as he was supposed to, he bit you while you both were cuddling. He woke up pretty quickly and pulled back, feeling awful about it. His kisses were solely light and soft weeks after that because he was worried he’d accidentally cut you again.

Raph’s more careful around you now, trying to adjust to the nearly doubled strength he now has. He’s clumsy and big, so even when he didn’t have vampire strength, he had to learn to watch out and not play rough with you like he would his brothers. It’s like he has his ninpo powered on all the time now, so it takes him a while to make the adjustment. You gain a few new bruises and countless apologies before he finally gets the hang of it.

His new growth doesn’t help with his clumsiness, especially since he’s shooting up nearly two feet in a year. He’s always sore, so he carries you around like a teddy bear to keep him company. He refuses to think of you growing old without him, refuses to remind himself that as your body starts to wear down, he stays frozen in time.

The one thing he likes about being a vampire is his heightened senses. He always knows where you are, and he doesn’t even have to turn on the light at night to make sure you’re safe. He can see you curled up on the couch or on his bed without disturbing you, and it shortly makes up for the other horrors he goes through in his transformation.

Leo:

Least caring about his new fangs. He thinks they’re cool, constantly teasing others and you by baring his fangs and bringing his hands up in mock claws while hissing. For a while, he goes full into the vampire getup, trying to talk in an accent, saying “bleh bleh bleh” after every sentence, just as much as he can to try and make his new condition unserious. He wants to pretend it’s something fun and not that he’s basically no longer alive

His favorite place to bite is your wrist. He thinks it’s hilarious to bow and grasp your hand as if he’s going to kiss your knuckles, only to flip your arm and sink his teeth into your upper forearm or wrist. Even when he’s not being goofy with it, he still chooses your wrist because he feels he can control it better. If something happens, it’s much easier for you to push him off when he’s holding onto your wrist then biting into your neck. He knows he won’t hurt you, but he’s afraid he might start to drain you, and doesn’t want that to happen.

Leo uses his new powers to show off, creeping up on you in the dark and making jumps he couldn’t make before. He knows he’s stuck like this now and just wants to make the best of it. Sure, he knows it sucks, but goofing around to make his brothers feel better too always makes it a little bit easier.

He tries to ignore the fact he’ll outlive you, passing it off with jokes about him being a trophy husband because he’ll always look young. He’ll hold you close if you ever start to get sad about it, quietly reminding you that you’re not going to die anytime soon, and he’ll be with you for your entire life.

Constantly whines about the growing pains and cramps, using it to bribe you into longer cuddles. He’ll teleport to your side so he doesn’t have to move and just collapse into you. He just wants you near while the aches settle into his bones.

Basic Vampire functions via Draxum mutation:

(sorry it's so jumbled. I hope it all makes sense, ask me if you have questions)

Heightened senses, including eyesight, strength, speed, hearing, and smell. The strengthened eyesight is more sensitive to light, which makes bright lights uncomfortable. They can still be in the sun, just can’t see well due to it which makes being out during the day unappealing to them. Can’t spread being a vampire via a bite(has to be from the original mutant or the string of mutagen). Can only consume blood, although it can be the blood of any organism. Their bite produces a numbing agent(much like a mosquito) so you can’t feel the initial prick or suck. Once the agent wears off, it’s much like the ache of a shot. They must be decapitated to be stopped. Cannot shapeshift nor fly. Common myths(ie: can’t enter a house w/out permission, garlic repulsed, no reflection, etc) don’t apply. They are put off by garlic, but mostly because of its strong, pungent smell, but can’t be stopped by it. They get the same reaction from onions and strong scented flowers. For them, eating normal food is the equivalent of us eating grass. It’ll fill you up, but you can’t digest it or take any nutritional value from it and you’ll probably get sick. The only problem is it both tastes and smells awful. Vampires are immune to any bloodborne diseases. Becoming a vampire starts to change your body into what would pretty much be your best years. Within a year, you would either advance or regress into the physical stature of a fit 25 year old on steroids. If you’re older and your back has started to give out and hunch, you’d regain your height and your muscle mass would be fixed. You’d be stuck as a young adult. Vampires have fast regeneration, and while they can’t regrow lost limbs, a major stab wound can heal in just hours.

Sources:

Used for biological explanations and for reminders of the different bodily changes in vampires

Used for basic history, descriptions, and a characteristics

Blood consumption after death

More history/characteristics

Vampire lore by region

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megalony · 9 months

Text

Painless

This is a Henry Cavill imagine that I'm thinking of making into a series, any feedback would be lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread

Masterlist

Summary: Henry and (Y/n) have their hands full looking after their kids, especially Toby who has a rare genetic condition where he can't feel or process pain.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Toby- be careful!” (Y/n) remarked as her lips pressed into a thin line and she folded her arms across her chest.

Her eyes focused on the twins who were out on the grass in the back garden, kicking a football between them. They knew the rules but when both sets of ocean blue eyes latched onto her, (Y/n) could feel herself weakening, just a little.

With big, round eyes, Toby looked over at his mum as his smile dropped and turned into a pleading frown. He was silently begging her to let him carry on playing with Levi. He only got to play a mild version of football when Henry was home and he hated being so careful. But Levi promised to go easy and not be so tactile, they were practically playing a toddler's version of football so they were still being safe.

Toby desired to be a normal child more than anything, he wanted to play in the garden and mess around with his twin without having to be watched in case he fell or tripped or something minor happened.

He had always been limited in sports while growing up, he loved to watch the games but when it came to taking part he was strictly told what games he could play and what he was advised to sit and watch. It was hard for Toby to see his friends playing games, especially at school when he couldn't join in in case he hurt himself. They couldn't take even a small risk when his life was already full of complications.

“Be careful.” (Y/n) repeated, a gentle tone to her words as she nodded her head. She didn't want to drag him inside and spoil the fun they seemed to be having. They were both twelve, after all, they had endured a lifetime of living by the rules and being careful, they knew what to do and what not to do.

And even Birdie was enjoying herself, sitting on the grass nearby watching like a mini cheerleader shouting her brothers on.

Toby had a rare genetic disorder, CIPA, something no one in (Y/n) or Henry's family had heard of and something that Levi didn't have. It affected the nerve signals in Toby's body and stopped him from processing or feeling any pain.

He couldn't feel even a tingling sensation if he fell and hit his head or his arm, he didn't know whether he had broken bones after a fall or internal injuries because he could feel nothing but numbess. He couldn't regulate his body temperature because he couldn't feel hot or cold. He couldn't cry, he couldn't sweat because he didn't react to heat, he didn't even get headaches.

It made life hard for all of them.

To have a bath or a shower, Toby had to check the temperature so he didn't scold himself, he had to probe any hot drink he had so he didn't burn his mouth. Every morning, (Y/n) or Henry helped him in his routine of checking his body for a rash or discolouration or sores. He had to take his temperature in case he had a fever, check his eyes in case he scratched them during the night and if they suspected he was ill, they checked his blood pressure too.

His life was made up of cautions because if he got a simple cold or a very bad infection, he would be none the wiser.

If he fell over at school he had to see the nurse because a simple collision could break a bone and he wouldn't know.

(Y/n) couldn't recall the amount of times she had gone to A&E over the years from Toby falling, having a rash, scratching his eyes until they bled or when he was little he would bite his lip and chew through them.

Every minute or so, (Y/n) glanced out the kitchen window to sneak glances on the three of them, just to make sure they were alright. Part of her knew that if something happened, they might come running to her, but the other part knew they also might try and hide it and pretend everything was fine. She didn't know which was worse.

A soft smile formed on (Y/n)'s lips when she heard approaching footsteps padding through the hallway and her eyes immediately landed on Henry.

"Hot flush?" She murmured quietly when her eyes raked in his appearance. He was wearing nothing but his briefs. His long curls were skewed all over his head like hed received an electric shock and his eyes were barely open but when he heard what she said, his teeth flashed in a charming smile.

"Something like that,"

Their house seemed to retain all the heat and soak it up from outside and Henry was like a radiator himself, he didn't need any extra heat or any more layers to trap the heat in.

When he turned his back towards her so he could grab a bottle of juice from the fridge, (Y/n) leaned over and hooked her finger in the waistband of his briefs. She pulled the elastic back before letting it snap back against his arse with a successful twang that resonated through the kitchen, along with his gasp of surprise.

(Y/n) pressed her lips together, trying in vain to supress a giggle when she watched his hands instantly reach for his briefs. He was so used to the twins running past him and shouting 'kegged' while they yanked his pants down and ran off. Any time Henry walked round in either his briefs or just his jogging bottoms, the twins went wild trying to shock him and keg him.

"Oi! Bloody minx." The wild shimmer in his eyes sent (Y/n)'s stomach jumping in delight and she grinned when his arm coiled around her waist. He tugged her back against his bare chest and tilted his head down to nuzzle his face in her hair.

"Did you get some sleep?" (Y/n) leaned her head back in his shoulder so she could smile lazily up at him, shivering when he kissed her. He looked tired. His schedule was messed up recently, evenings were taken up with fitness routines in the gym and nights were spent in rehearsal so he slept in the early hours and into the afternoon as of late.

"A bit, where are the rugrats?"

"All out in the garden."

A shiver rolled down (Y/n)'s spine when she felt Henry's lips trace down the side of her neck and his teeth grazed against her shoulder like he was preparing to take a bite. He set the juice down on the counter and moved both hands to (Y/n)'s hips, squeezing tightly as he turned her in his arms so she was facing him instead.

(Y/n) felt him jump and almost stumble forward into her when Birdie's scream rattled through the house from the garden. (Y/n) knew it was too good to be true, she had glanced at the three of them playing no more than ten minutes ago and they had been fine.

Henry pressed a chaste kiss against (Y/n)'s wet lips before he bypassed her and headed out the back door, feeling her behind him almost glued to his back. The concrete was hot and burning against the soles of his bare feet but he paid it no mind as he jogged out to see what they had all been doing while he had been asleep.

Henry took a moment to scan over the scene, trying to work out what had happened. Levi was standing on the grass, wide-eyed with panic written across his face when he noticed both parents out in the garden who clearly heard the scuffle. But Henry felt his heart jumping into his throat, briefly cutting off his breathing when he looked at Toby and Birdie.

Toby was laid on his side, half on the concrete and his lower half still on the grass and he had Birdie in his arms who was wailing very loudly, clearly having hurt herself somewhere.

Henry thought Toby may have been unconscious or knocked himself out for a moment before he breathed sharply, blinking rapidly to try and clear his vision. He bent down beside the pair of them along with (Y/n) who very carefully pulled Birdie away from Toby before she sat down on the grass to look over the four year old.

Birdie let out a violent sob as she held her hands out to her mother, showing how her palms were scratched and held bits of grit from the pavement.

Trying to be careful, Henry slipped his hands under Toby’s arms so he could slowly sit him up before he scanned him over. He had a sharp cut on his temple from colliding with the concrete with a bang, it didn't look deep enough for a hospital trip but it wasn't exactly a light graze either. Henry rubbed his palms up and down Toby's arms before he rolled his sleeves up to check he had no swelling or marks or scuffs.

He could have jarred his shoulder from the fall or landed on his arm hard enough to do some damage, but it didn't look bad; yet.

“What happened?” Henry asked gently, tilting Toby’s head to either side so he could make sure he had no other injuries.

“Birdie tripped… I grabbed her to stop her from falling but we both went down.”

Toby had reached out for his sister when she started to stumble forward but he couldn’t hold her weight or pull her up in time and he fell down with her. He managed to turn them around so Birdie grazed her hands going down but didn't fall flat on her face. She landed mostly on him causing him to hit his head and his side as he went down, trying to keep her against his chest to stop her from getting hurt.

“Alright, everybody inside. And you're alright?" Henry glanced over at Levi, needing a bit of reassurance that the other twin wasn't hurt and had only witnessed the scuffle.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Up we go, bud." Henry carefully hoisted Toby up and set him down on his feet, keeping hold of him under his armpits when he wobbled unsteadily on his feet.

Toby couldn't get a headache, he'd never had one in his life and he certainly wouldn't feel anything but sick from a fall like that. But his head did feel like it was full of air and there were small dots in front of his eyes that he was used to after a fall.

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Henry leaned down and scooped Toby up in case he fell, he didn't look steady enough to walk and he didn't want anymore accidents. Toby was twelve and he was tall and lanky for his age, taking after Henry in that department, so it was awkward for Henry to carry him. He knew Toby wouldn't want to be carried on his dad's hip like Birdie, he was too old for that and it felt awkward to hold him up by his armpits.

Henry settled on looping one arm around Toby's upper chest and hoisting him off his feet that way and a small smile came onto his boy's face when he started to walk them back inside after (Y/n).

"Sit down, bud and we'll take a better look at you." He kicked one of the kitchen chairs out with his heel before he eased Toby down so he could sit and rest for a minute.

"Daddy!" Birdie reached her arms out the moment (Y/n) sat her down on the kitchen counter next to the sink.

Her little wail did wonders in gaining Henry's attention no matter where they were or what they were doing and with a soft smile, he walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her head multiple times before inspecting her hands and turning on the cold tap. She only had a few graze marks on her palms, once they were clean and had some cream on she would be fine.

She burrowed her head into Henry's chest, wriggling and letting out a few small wails when he took her tiny hands in his large ones and held them under the water to clean the grit off.

“Sshh, it’s okay sweetheart. Let me clean them up Birdie.” Henry hushed, brushing away the flecks of mud and grit from her hands and the small trickles of blood beginning to form from the scratch marks. He leaned down to kiss the top of her head again while (Y/n) leaned around him to grab a tea towel, running it under the water before moving to tend to Toby.

“Do you feel dizzy?” (Y/n) questioned, tilting Toby’s head up so she could start cleaning the blood slowly oozing from the cut.

It was always easier to tend to Toby’s cuts and scrapes because he didn’t flinch. No pain meant it was easier to patch him up, he could sit still whereas with Levi or Birdie they wriggled away in pain like Birdie was doing now with Henry. Toby slowly nodded his head as he watched his mum grab the box from the cupboard containing plasters, wipes, paracetamol and such.

(Y/n) opened an antiseptic wipe and started cleaning Toby’s cut, both of them noticing how Henry was having a hard time trying to do the same with Birdie who was wailing at the feeling of her cuts being cleaned.

When he was done, Henry picked Birdie up and sat her down on his hip, letting her curl up into his bare chest before he turned to look at the twins. Toby was still being patched up at the table and Levi was stood anxiously in the kitchen doorway, unsure what to do. But he knew by the look in his dad's face that they were about to get some sort of lecture.

“All done. Next time you all want to play football, wait for me or your mum to join or watch.” Henry instructed as he gently cradled Birdie to his chest whose cries were slowly dying down. Her head tucked into his neck as she sniffed, saying nothing as she tried to calm down.

Henry watched Toby’s head turn sharply to look at him, his eyes widening as his face fell. (Y/n) didn’t join in when playing football, it wasn’t one of the games she particularly liked to participate in and they couldn’t always wait around for Henry to come home. Nor could (Y/n) keep an eye on them playing all the time like today, it wasn’t going to work. Henry was practically telling them- or more specifically, Toby- that he couldn’t play unless someone watched him when they were only just beginning to let him do more things and play more on his own.

It was as if he needed a full-time watcher to make sure he was okay but the only person Toby accepted watching over him all the time was Henry. He didn't like anyone else trying to 'keep an eye on him' unless it was his dad.

“Dad it was an accident-”

“Yes, and I don’t want any more accidents happening Toby. You could have knocked yourself out.” Henry wasn’t saying this to be cruel or make Toby feel bad, he just didn’t want the risk of anything else happening. Toby needed to be watched because he may not realise when he was doing something that could hurt himself. He didn’t want them playing out and anything bad happen like this because Toby could have cut his head deeper or fell unconscious.

“I fell catching Birdie, not playing football.” Toby's tone gave away that he was growing angry and upset but his frown only deepened when Henry raised a brow at him.

He didn't like the tone his son was using with him, whether or not he has reason to be angry.

“You fell playing outside when no one was watching so next time someone’s going to watch. It's for your sake.” Henry wasn’t trying to bargain or make a deal, he was setting a rule because he didn’t want to come home and find Toby unconscious or with yet another broken bone. It was to keep him safe.

A deep frown set into Toby's forehead and his lips curved down before he slammed his palm down on the table, causing Birdie to jolt and whimper into Henry's chest.

(Y/n) gave him a certain look with pursed lips but she didn't have to turn around to see the stern look on her husband's face. She could practically feel Henry's emotions radiating through her and when Toby adverted his gaze to the floor, she knew Henry wasn't happy.

"Don't start with me."

"But I can't do anything! Levi gets to play football after school but I don't, I can't even do athletics club. I don't want to be wrapped in bubble wrap!"

Toby didn't have as big a fascination with football like Levi did, he leaned more towards rugby simply because he had watched Henry play rugby all his life and he admired his dad when he played. But he couldn't join in football at school because if he slipped or fell or collided with someone awkwardly, he could end up breaking a bone and going to A&E. And if he fell and didn't tell his parents he could be walking around on a damaged or broken leg and make it worse without realising it.

Athletics was something Toby wanted to try but again, if he fell and didn't land on a crash mat, they could have another problem. And if he played sports and got overheated, his body couldn't sweat to cool him down and he could get a fever or make himself sick so it wasn't worth the risk.

"You can't do school clubs but you come to the gym with me and train, don't you? You're not in bubble wrap, you have to be cautious and you know that. End of subject."

With that, Henry turned and headed towards the living room, ruffling Toby's hair as he passed to try and cool down the situation. He wasn't having this argument, he wasn't doing it anymore.

Toby wasn't wrapped in cotton wool, he had to be cautious. He had to be careful, more than others because if he wasn't he would become ill and no one wanted that. But just because he missed out at school didn't mean he always missed out at home either. Henry took him to the gym with him, just the two of them so they got one to one time. At the gym, Henry could check Toby's temperature, make sure he had appropriate rest so he didn't overheat and show him how to train and lift weights and do small but adequate exercises so he wasn't pushed too hard. It was a good substitute.

(Y/n) leaned over to rub her hand up and down Toby's arm, smiling gently at him. She was sure that if Toby could, he would have been crying by now. Leaning forward, she gently wrapped her arms around him, surprised when he held her back very tightly and burrowed his face into her shoulder.

“Sweetheart, you know you have to be careful… playing games or sports isn’t the best idea for you. Your dad doesn’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.” (Y/n) slowly carded her fingers through Toby’s hair as she heard him huff in response but she knew he understood.

This had been and would continue to be the way Toby’s life went. He would need watching and would have to be careful when he was older, that was just how life was going to be for him. To make it easier, they had to prevent him from doing activities that would cause more harm than good, the more cautious he was the better his life would be and the more he would learn how to take care of himself when he was older.

“I don’t want to be careful.” Toby whispered defiantly.

He wanted to be normal.

He wanted to feel hot and cold, he wanted to cry and scrape his knee or hit his head and feel the pain. He wanted a headache or tummy ache and to feel if food was hot or cold. He wanted to rub his eyes and feel that satisfied itching and know when to stop. His body desired and craved the burning sensation of pain when he fell or the drowsy headaches he saw his family get when they were sick. He could throw up and have a fever and still get up and play video games and dance because he didn't feel the pain or the toll it took on his body.

“That’s not how this works, baby. People have to be careful they don’t hurt themselves, you have to be just the same even if it's for different reasons. Even if you don’t feel yourself getting hurt it will cause damage, we’re just trying to keep you safe.”

It didn’t really matter if Toby didn’t want to be careful, no one really wanted to live a careful life but they did. Others made sure they weren’t reckless when driving a car or didn’t run on a slippery surface or took medication so they didn’t get ill. Toby was careful not to damage his body so he didn’t get internal damage or broken bones and cuts and scrapes.

"Your dad worries about you a lot baby, rules are there so he doesn't have to worry and you stay safe."

#henry cavill imagine #henry x reader #henry cavill #dad! henry #henry cavill x reader #imagine

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kiwinatorwaffles · 3 months

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hermit species headcanons: volume… 2!

i made this post two years ago when i was fresh to the series and was just getting to know the hermits. a lot has changed since then, but a lot has also stayed the same! my headcanons are getting refined every single time i talk about them, so chances are, this list won't even be accurate to my thoughts a year later.

with that being said, let's get started! click the cut to read them all

bdubs: glare! small, hates the dark, is a feral creature, will never let go of the moss. he and pungance were born from the same tree in the same patch of moss so they are brothers LMAO

beef: vampire! but not a full one. he was bitten by a bat and gained two vampiric traits exactly: fangs and sensitive skin. beef thinks his tendency to get sunburnt easily is just something in his code or a genetic condition. he never got it checked.

cub: alien shapeshifter! his original form is this shapeless void blob, and he can only copy how other beings look like. his forms were taken from two astronauts he saw in space, an old man and a young man. his void form can be seen slightly on his inner arm, where there is just a sliver of night sky hanging out

cleo: zombie (duh) cleo was permakilled by a witch's curse but when faced with the pearly gates they were like. nah. i'd rather be down there. and just straight up left and came back as a zombie. that's how she met joe. because he was sitting on top of her tombstone eating a sandwich

doc: originally a fae, but now he's super fucked up? what can i even say. he was a fae who got super interested in the sciences and started experimenting on himself just for the hell of it. there was that whole dinnerbone cyborg arm thing but he also managed to make himself a centaur form that he uses for extra storage and height. nobody knows where the creeper came from. was it from his dad's side? did he give it to himself? not even stress, his cousin, can tell you how he came to be. what the hermits DO know however is that he can steal pronouns by asking for them

etho: redstone deity! etho was an ancient builder who was executed for witchcraft upon his discovery of redstone. he was resurrected by the universe as a second chance and to spread his knowledge to the world. you can read more from my fic here ehehehehe

false: human! yes she is 100% human. i just thought it would be funny if such an awesome and skilled fighter was just some normal ass human with a bit of social anxiety

gem: forest spirit! she has nature powers and can change parts of her body to reflect parts of nature. she's a deer? an elf? nope! only sometimes. she can mix and match whatever traits she wants on any given day. but be careful of those deer legs and horns. they Hurt

grian: red macaw avian! he has bird feathers covering his ears, parrot wings, and bird talons! he is also able to mimic voices perfectly (which he uses to play pranks and swear in other hermits’ voices) and is a Hollow Boned Menace. he carries a lot of bird tendencies, like being a piece of shit or preening his friends’ hair when it’s too messy (which is always). in start of seasons, he has x lock away usage of his wings to keep himself from an unfair advantage. he also has stolen powers from the watchers, which he can use to change his wing colors or view the entire map from afar.

npg: ????????????? he’s supposed to be a robot, but he has wings and flies sideways?????? he’s somehow even more fucked up than robot grian. not even grian is sure of what he created tbh. he just knows he did NOT give npg those conure wings to begin with.

ariana griande: galah avian! she is grian's cousin who is a pop star. she has never actually been on hermitcraft before -- that was grian cosplaying as her.

hypno: human warlock! he accidentally made a pact when he replaced his tooth with a piece of cursed gold. jokes on his patron though, his faulty human memory can't even remember how he got his powers! he has lots of inscriptions as tattoos written in galactic just all over his body that he completely forgot how to read at this point and is immortal. maybe that's a bit bad for his sense of self-preservation

impulse: demon/imp! he used to be a gargoyle that dispensed candy, but a wizard passing by granted him life and well. now he's here! demons are actually underworld spirits that punish permadead players who have been genuinely horrible to the players around them, but impulse wanted to build houses and play with redstone instead of stirring the torture soup. so when he met skizz he decided hanging out with the players was the best thing to do. he also used to have larger horns and wings but his time on the surface has made his wings very tiny and unusable without the help of an elytra. skizz always teases him for this.

iskall: cyborg! the hermits don't know if he was fully human before the cyborgification. me, personally? i think it would be funny if she was actually built to protect a village but had too much of a personality so the villages just let him go have fun with the players. not sure if i want to adhere to that though

jevin: slime! certain slimes have evolved to be more like players. jevin is from the blue variety (that's his gender)

joe hills: ???????? void-born universe being??? joe is actually the oldest living being in the universe. he was just popped out of void (even predating the void gods) and spent all this time just doing whatever fuckall was around to do. he looks like a normal human being but just Slightly to the left, like his a bit-too-many teeth or slight lean when he stands. other than that, he acts like any other human!

joel: human mage! he actually only has powers of illusion that changes only how he looks. he Really wanted to be an orc but the spell couldnt last forever (as his fae wife lizzie found out after marriage). every day he wishes he had as much swag as shrek did. more on the headcanon here

keralis: weird fucking eldritch cryptid being? except he looks exactly like a human. nothing weird about him, nope. just don't look too closely at his eyes. he promises that he blinks like a normal person and not with his pupils.

mumbo: robot! with a core heart and stretchy limbs, he runs mainly on the consumption of redstone and occasionally typical foodstuffs. he had a creator before the days of hermitcraft (who originally built him as a war machine but something went deeply sideways during construction) that taught him all there is to know about redstone and the outside world. he also inherited the british accent and mustache from his creator. his creator did want him to be free and wiped mumbo's memory of his creation before setting him off into the overworld and letting him roam free. now he's just a silly guy!

grumbot: robot! he was first built to give suggestions on what to do with the mayoral elections but then he developed actual attachments to his horribly neglectant dads </3 but it's alright! he now chills with renbob and goatman up in the hermitheus

pearl: moon spirit! she was the moon from a player's hardcore world. the player used to talk to the moon for fun, but suddenly disappeared from the world one day. now feeling lonely, pearl took a humanoid form and descended to find where her player went, but she ended up discovering the joys of being a player herself. contrary to popular belief, she had no influence on the season 8 moon.

ren: weredog! can shapeshift into a dog form, which he usually uses to either run fast or play fetch. he’s also more prone to change when the moon is larger…. except he just becomes a hyperactive dog who chases his tail all night and is deeply embarrassed by it. he also probably has rabies, but everyone whom he has bitten probably already had something deeply wrong with them to begin with anyway

renbob: human...? he's related to ren from the human side, or at least that what he tells people. but he might as well be 50% weed by now

scar: human(?) wizard! he can fly, subtly change his physical appearance, cast spells, and do all sorts of magical shenanigans! he also can read galactic fluently, which is how he learned that hypno enchanted himself with loyalty at some point. jellie is his beloved familiar. also he's a capitalist. nobody knows where that came from

skizz: angel! why are there angels in minecraft, you might ask? some people are satisfied with their lives and let themselves permadie. skizz, after being born randomly from an angel statue (i wonder if it’s related to the other statue guy) was supposed to be one of the angels who helped escort players to the pearly gates, but he met impulse while his demon clan was taking a field trip to heaven. the two immediately became besties and skizz begged the universe to let him join the players. the universe begrudgingly agreed and now he's here! he hides his many other halos as ring tattoos on his arms as well

stress: fae! she's got fairy powers, magical swag, an affinity for flowers, and will beat you up if you assume she's the resident server cleric.

tango: ex-blazeborn! he saw some yummy packed ice and ate it, which extinguished his internal flame. his blazeborn tribe felt bad for him but knew it would be dangerous if he stayed, so tango just left for the overworld instead. he tries to convince people that he is 100% a human and not suspicious at all because he's embarrassed of having to explain that he lost most of his powers due to eating some yummy ice cream. a more detailed post about my headcanon can be found here

tfc: human! the only non-human aspect of him is a prosthetic leg. contrary to popular belief, he did not lose that leg while mining. it was after fighting a horde of skeletons. (he won)

wels: human. he's just a human. nobody believes him when he tells them because they've seen him accidentally level a building while sparring before. but nope. he's just a human. and a very fucked up one at that

hels: ???? techncially has the traits of wels, beef, and etho????? is there a species for evil clones created by copying machines or

xb: guardian! he was a guardian made to guard the magical treasures of ancient builders, but he got bored of staying in the same spot for centuries and his creators never returning. hypno casted a spell of bipedelity on xb, so now he can walk on land! i wrote a fic about it here too

xisuma: voidwalker! created by the young void gods, he was made from a fucking mspaint file where the void gods dicked around with the program and made a deeply fucked up being (him) on accident. he has no mouth, his hands are as black as the void, and his voice is terrifying without a modulator, which is why he wears a helmet. more about it in my fic here

evil x: also a voidwalker, but this time the void gods pressed random on a picrew and sent him out into an alternate dimension. he grew up in super england until x fished him out of the void. this little rascal has red scleras, ram horns, and a devil tail. he doesn't need to sleep, so he gets all his energy from eating, which is convenient because his sharp teeth can crunch anything and he can digest everything. his hair acts like an enderchest with a portal to the void, where he keeps snacks and various trinkets.

zedaph: human, but he’s not sane. i mean look at this guy. look at what he’s doing. nobody knows how he became so deeply fucked up but he's truly just Like That. he gave himself sheep features once on accident though

worm man: surprisingly, human. he's lucky to have stayed human for this long with his brother's insane experiments. accurate to popular belief, he has no superpowers.

#orchard’s library #hermitcraft #hermitblr #i cant tag everyone so im just not going to LMAO #ill only be tagging the new additions from my last list so here we go #vintagebeef #smallishbeans #skizzleman #tinfoilchef #keralis #xbcrafted #grumbot #renbob #falsesymmetry #ariana griande

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 3 months

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Infectious

TBB & Fem!Reader

Chapter 3: Rumors on Scorro

Summary: You're completing your final practicum on Kamino as part of the experimental non-clone Combat Medic program. After graduating top of your class, and being inducted into the prestigious 407th Medic Unit, you get assigned to Clone Force 99. Neither of you are excited to be working together and tensions run high. However, those tensions dissipate when the Bad Batch unexpectedly falls ill while on a covert mission. Running against an unknown clock, it’s up to you to figure out what’s causing the illness before it ultimately kills you all.

Pairing: TBB & Fem!Reader

Characters: Hunter, Echo, Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech

Tags & Warnings: BAMF fem!reader, enemies to friends, humor, action, angst, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, mild suggestive themes, explicit medical descriptions, whump

Word Count: 5.7k

Author's Note: WE'RE BACK BABY!!! Yeah, that's right. Finally. After all of this time, the next chapter has arrived 🥳 I told y'all I would be updating my other series fics in the new year, and I meant it. This chapter has some Echo angst in it, because why not. FYI, since it's been 9 months, I went back and edited the first two chapters to match my current writing style. No plot elements changed, just style, grammar, word choice, etc. As always, please enjoy 💚

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

As the ship leaves the stormy atmosphere of Kamino, you turn your head to look out the transparisteel viewport and are greeted by the sight of endless stars twinkling brightly across the ebony horizon. You smile wide knowing this view will never get old. The galaxy is vast and beautiful, and getting to see it up close and personal, while also doing something you love, is priceless. This really is a turning point in your life. A new chapter to be written and explored.

When the ship levels out, you unstrap from the jump seat and start exploring the Marauder. You have a feeling you’ll be spending a lot of time aboard this ship, so you want to familiarize yourself with it as much as possible. You walk back towards the stern, where Wrecker is, and look around, but there's not much to see. Then make your way back up toward the bow and step aboard the bridge. You weave between Hunter and Crosshair, and stand behind Tech.

“So, where are we going?” you ask while looking over Tech’s shoulder at the controls.

Without turning around, Tech answers. “Agamar. It’s a rather barren planet found in the outer rim. The terrain is inhospitable to most, but we will manage.”

“What’s the mission?” you ask further, excited by the prospect and intrigue.

“There’s a separatist base they want us to route,” Hunter says. “A simple in-and-out mission.”

You nod your head at the explanation, but he makes it sound like routing a heavily guarded separatist base is a walk in the park. You have to remind yourself that they are an elite force of clones and are genetically modified for the toughest conditions. It amazes you that such clones can even exist and your fascination with them grows. You wonder how they look in action and if they live up to all the rumors the regular clones whisper about on Kamino. Only time will tell.

Hunter rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck. “Get some sleep, all of you. We’ll be there in a couple hours.”

You want to say something funny, like 'aye aye captain', but decide not. Instead, you simply nod and make your way back to the bunks. Laying down on the flat rack, you stare up at the ceiling. There are too many pre-mission jitters vibrating through your body to fall asleep. Even after shutting your eyes and calming yourself, it's just not enough. So, you toss and turn, getting more aggravated that your body won’t drift off, since being tired for your first mission is not an option.

You sigh and sit up, then peer around at the others who are soundly asleep in their bunks and chairs. You’re not sure how they can fall asleep so fast. It’s either a genetic thing or a military training tactic, but whatever it is, you don’t have it. You decide to get up and pace around to try and wear yourself out, and when you do, you hear something. The ship is quiet and your ears perk up immediately at the sound. Wanting to investigate it, you quietly slip around your squad.

One by one, you pass by them, waiting and listening to hear who made the weird sound. Not Wrecker. You move on. Not Crosshair either. You check the next one. He’s making noise for sure, but not the sound you heard. It’s not Tech either. You move towards Hunter, a little nervous that he might wake up and catch you staring at him, but you pause and listen. Nope, not him. You purse your lips. That only leaves Echo. Carefully, you tip toe over to him, wait, and listen.

He's not making a sound, and with a shrug, you turn to leave, thinking you’re a level of crazy for hearing things on a quiet ship. Then it happens again. You turn back around and look at Echo. He’s sleeping rather soundly, with soft rhythmic breaths and gentle rises and falls of his chest. No breath obstructions, you note to yourself. You wait and watch for a moment, then he says it again. It’s faint, breathy, and almost unrecognizable as a word, but you hear it regardless.

Fives.

You knit your eyebrows at the odd utterance, and wait a little longer, listening to see if what he mumbles changes or if he’s repeating the same word. After a couple standard seconds, Echo says the same breathy word again. Fives. You wonder what it means. Maybe it’s a special numerical sequence from his time back on Skako Minor? You shrug at the mystery, but are happy that it’s not a breathing issue. You turn to leave him be, but he mumbles something else.

Fives come back.

Oh. Your heart drops. It’s a person. He’s dreaming about someone he knows, or maybe someone he once knew. You sigh and let your eyes turn soft, knowing exactly what it’s like to dream about loved ones. It’s been several years, but you still dream about your parents. Sometimes you can’t fill in all the gaps of your dreams as you slowly forget things, but it still pulls at your heartstrings every time they show up to give you a hug in the realm of sleep.

As your thoughts wander a yawn escapes past your lips. Finally, feeling tired and ready for sleep, you return to your bunk and crawl onto the hard surface. Laying on your back, you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths to settle yourself. You still wonder who Fives is and what they mean to Echo. Your psychology books tell you that dreams can be a subconscious escape or a subconscious desire. Knowing next to nothing about Echo’s past, it could be either one.

You take another deep breath and exhale slowly. Closing your eyes, you let yourself drift off to sleep, but in a split moment, a rough hand shakes you back awake. You shoot up and hit your head on the bunk above you. Ouch. Nursing your newly formed bump, you use your other hand to rub the sleep out of your eyes. When you come out of your groggy haze, you can hear snickering coming from the rest of the squad. Ha ha, yes, very funny. You think to yourself.

“Rise and shine,” Hunter mocks as he walks away from your bunk. “We’re here.”

Gathering your composure, you swing out of the bunk and head over to the cockpit for the landing. You look out the viewport as you enter the atmosphere of Agamar and your face lights up with excitement. This is it. Your first mission. You want to squeal, but something tells you that no one else is going to appreciate it, so you keep it internal. The ship lands on the rocky surface of the planet with only a slight wobble. Tech wasn’t kidding when he said it was inhospitable.

Your excitement grows as the squad gears up with their packs, and you follow suit the same way. You double check your pack to make sure you have all the medical necessities and do a mental headcount of your supplies. Once satisfied with your inventory, you sling it across your back and toss your bucket snug on your head. You’re all set to go on your first mission. The ship door opens, light beaming in, and your heart begins to race. This is it. This is your moment.

You take your first steps forward to leave the ship when Hunter stretches an arm out to stop you. “Not you,” Hunter says. “You’re staying here.”

“What?” you question. “But what about the mission?”

“Your mission is here,” Hunter says. “You’re staying on the ship with Echo.”

“But, sir!” you argue. Your feelings of excitement crumble. “I belong in the field!”

“You belong where I tell you you belong, medic,” Hunter snaps back. “Or are you ignoring an order from your commanding officer on your first mission?”

You huff and clench your fist. “No, sir."

“I didn’t think so,” Hunter says, then turns to face Echo. “We may need a quick extraction, so keep your ears on.”

“Understood,” Echo acknowledges with a nod.

Hunter nods back and heads out of the Marauder with the rest of the squad, well, the rest of the squad except you. You remove your bucket, plop down on your bunk with an angry grunt, and lean your head back against the wall. This entire assignment has been one big pissing match, and every time you think you’re making progress, you get sidelined. How are you supposed to make Kix proud if you don’t see any action? You release another angry grunt and cross your arms.

“Careful,” Echo says. “You’ll lose your voice if you keep grunting like that.”

You roll your eyes. “Aren’t you upset being stuck here?”

“No,” Echo answers. “It’s not unusual for someone to be left back with the ship. Keeps people from stealing it.”

With such a small squad of men to work with, you guess that makes sense, and since Echo is your unofficial chaperone, it makes sense that you were left on the ship with him. However, even though you try to explain it to yourself in those practical terms, you still think it's to spite you. You sigh. At this rate, you’ll never get to prove your worth as a Combat Medic to any of them. To these special clones, you’re just useless dead weight and not worth their time.

As the planetary rotation moves forward, you find odd things around the ship to busy yourself with, but you’re still bored. Echo is not much of a conversationalist and he hasn’t moved from his spot in the cockpit. You end up sprawling yourself across the seat in the gunner’s nest and looking out the window at whatever draws your attention. There’s some trees, a little snow on the ground, and a few stray wildlife that come into view. Nothing too spectacular, that’s for sure.

Finally, after hours of sitting by yourself, you decide to go back to the cockpit and sit with Echo. You're still curious about this Fives person he mentioned in his sleep, and you think maybe now might be a good time to ask him about it. You walk into the cockpit and sit down in the chair across from him, bending one leg up onto the chair and resting your chin atop your knee. Echo silently acknowledges your presence and returns to looking at the setting sun over the horizon.

You fidget with your fingers as you mull over whether to ask him about what you overheard last night. It might be private, and he may not want to tell you, but your curiosity is getting the better of you. “Echo,” you ask. “Who's Fives?”

Echo shifts uncomfortably in his seat and stays silent for a couple of minutes. “How do you know that name?” he asks. His words hang heavy in the air.

“You…” you begin, then pause, unsure of how to tell him. You don't want to sound creepy, but honesty is the best policy. “You said it in your sleep.”

Echo sighs, but doesn't turn his gaze from the orange sunset. “Shouldn’t you have been sleeping too?”

“I’m not used to sleeping on ships,” you answer. You can tell by the tone of his voice that this is a sore subject and you're starting to regret bringing it up.

Echo swivels his chair to face you and worries his lip. His eyes are full of sadness and his countenance is engrossed in pain as he searches for the words he's looking for. A small smile flashes across his lips. You wonder if he's thinking about a memory.

“He was my brother,” Echo says, his voice quiet at the strain of saying his thoughts out loud.

You can tell by his choice of words and his tone of voice that this brother isn’t around anymore and you feel a twinge of sadness settle in your gut. You understand a thing or two about the loss of a loved one. “What happened to him?” you ask.

“He was murdered,” Echo says, his fist tightening as he looks back out the viewport. “By one of our own.”

Your expression turns from sadness to shock and then confusion. A clone killing a clone? Does that even happen? Why would a clone do that? Your mind rushes a mile a minute trying to wrap your head around the idea, but you cannot seem to reconcile it. It’s too bizarre of a concept to comprehend. Every clone you've ever met was a brother to the one next to him. So, for a clone to kill another clone, it’s like a family member killing another family member. It’s unheard of.

“I’m sorry, Echo,” you offer as a consolation. “You must miss him.”

“Yeah,” Echo says, his voice distant. “I do.”

“I miss my parents all the time,” you say, trying to bridge the gap and build a connection.

“I remember you mentioning they’re dead,” Echo says as he turns to face you.

“About ten years ago,” you add. Now it's your turn to look out at the sunset.

“I’m sorry,” Echo says.

“It’s fine,” you shrug. “It hurts, but it doesn’t hurt like it used to. I know they’re out there watching over me, somewhere.”

Echo snorts. “You believe in that Jedi force stuff do ya?”

“Not really,” you answer with a small laugh. “But everyone needs to believe in something.”

“That’s fair,” Echo says.

“When I look up at the stars,” you begin with a smile while staring fondly out at the horizon, “it’s almost like I can feel them with me, you know? Watching over me as I make my way in the galaxy.”

“Sounds nice,” Echo says.

“I bet Fives is watching you too,” you say, then look at Echo with soft eyes. “He hasn’t left you alone, just like my parents haven’t left me.”

“Maybe,” Echo shrugs, then chuckles. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he came back to haunt me.” His brief small smile fades as his countenance reverts back to a frown.

“We’ll see them again some day," you say, trying to stay hopeful. “I just know it.”

“That would be something, wouldn’t it?” Echo half-jokes, but you can hear the part of his heart that wants what you're saying to be true.

He wants to see his brother again, desperately. So much so that he calls out to him while he sleeps. He must agonize over Fives’ death. You understand because you’ve been there. You’ve stared death in the face, the kind of death that leaves you thoroughly alone. You don't need to understand psychology to know what his subconscious thinks about on a daily basis, and your heart hurts for him, but you know there's nothing in your medpack to mend a shattered heart.

You and Echo stare out of the cockpit in silence and watch the sun fall beyond the horizon, sharing in this solemn moment and appreciating the company. The veil of night arrives and the stars begin to shine in the dark sky. The billions of bright burning lights feel comforting. The stars aren't very visible on Kamino, but here, on this planet, they are bright and beautiful. You relax your shoulders and lean back, thinking that maybe this assignment isn’t so bad after all.

However, your sweet moment is interrupted by Hunter’s voice over the comms. He’s calling in that quick extraction now and by the amount of yelling and blaster fire in the background, this is going to be a hot one. Echo relays the affirmation, sets the coordinates, and lets Hunter know that both of you are on the way to pick them up. You're slightly surprised that Echo included you in the transmission, but now is not the time to be celebrating your first taste of inclusivity.

“Civvy, strap in,” Echo orders as he starts pressing buttons and flipping switches to get the ship going. “This is going to be a bumpy ride and I don’t need you falling out of the ship.”

Ah, there it is. You sigh and head back towards the jump seats and strap yourself in for the wild ride ahead. Echo expertly maneuvers the ship to the squad's location and brings it in low so they can climb on board. You can hear the blaster fire outside and as the door opens to the ship, you watch them file in while firing off blaster bolts to cover each other. It’s the first time you’ve seen any of them in action and you're a little awestruck. They don’t move like other clones.

Tech next to Echo and Hunter yells for them to get them out of here. The ship moves again, this time more aggressively, as the enemy continues to fire at the Marauder. Wrecker moves to the gunner’s nest and shoots down the vulture droids that are following behind. You tightly grip the bars on the jump seat as the ship rocks from the blasts. Thankfully, the shields are up. The ship flips upside down, sideways, and every other way you can think of to out maneuver the droids.

At long last, the ship breaches the atmosphere and moves into space. Tech initiates the hyperdrive and pulls the handle down to enter into hyperspace. Once safe in a hyperspace lane, you let out the breath you were holding in, then flick the safety release on the jump seat and push them over your head. You get up from the seat and wobble forward, not realizing your legs turned to jelly from all of the excitement, and let your feet stabilize before trying to walk.

“Woah, that was fun!” Wrecker hollers as he brushes by you and moves towards the cockpit. “Echo, you should have seen this place. It was crazy.”

“Not as crazy as being sling-shot across a ravine,” Crosshair grumbles and pushes past you. He sits down in one of the swivel chairs and starts cleaning his rifle in silence.

“I said I was sorry,” Wrecker apologizes. “But we won!”

“Correction,” Tech says as he lifts a pointed finger in the air. “I won.”

Crosshair rolls his eyes and pulls a few credits from his pocket and hands them to Tech.

“Much obliged,” Tech says as he stuffs the credits in one of his many satchels.

The exchange has you lost in bewilderment. Clearly, something happened during the mission and you’re curious to know the details. You look at Echo, hoping he'll ask for more information about it, but he doesn’t, leaving you more curious. You do find it odd, however, that they had some form of amusement out on the battlefield. From your time on Kamino, most clones don't find blaster fire fun. Clone Force 99 really is different compared to the rest of the clone forces.

“I assume your mission was a success?” Hunter asks while walking by you, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Yes… sir,” you answer with a twinge of hesitancy, a little unsure of what your mission was other than staying on the ship with Echo.

“Good,” Hunter says. He reclines in one of the empty swivel seats and clasps his hands behind his head. “Glad to hear it.”

You can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he's trying to make fun of you. Either way, you brush it off and focus on more pressing matters, like what's next on the mission agenda. Will you go back to Kamino? Or will you wait for more orders? That’s what good soldiers do, isn’t it? Follow orders? You’re still unfamiliar with all of this, so you’re not sure what to ask or what to do with yourself. Rather than make new issues by asking more questions, you retreat back to your bunk to relax.

But the boredom of waiting creeps in and you start to doze off. Your eyelids are heavy even though you barely spent any energy this rotation. It doesn't take you long to remember that you didn’t get much sleep the night before and now that the adrenaline is wearing off, your body is telling you it needs rest. You don't fight it and let your body go to sleep, hoping you won’t be woken up. As a medic, you must get rest whenever you can so you can be at your best at all times.

This time you wake up on your own terms, when your body feels rested. You’re not sure how long you were out, but no one bothered you so you assume everyone is still waiting for new orders to come across. You sit up in your bunk, without hitting your head this time, and stretch out your arms. You roll your shoulders and crack your neck. The bunks aren’t exactly soft, but they do their job. Swinging your legs over the side of the bunk, you get up to use the refresher.

As you head towards the refresher, the rest of the squad is huddled around and speaking amongst each other. Hunter looks serious and has his arms crossed, which can’t mean anything good, and Echo is arguing with him, again. You forget the refresher for a moment and walk over to add your presence to the mix. Hunter notices and glances at you before turning back to Echo. Not realizing where you are standing, Crosshair gives you a small jab on your behind with his rifle.

The sudden touch startles you. “What was that for?”

“You’re blocking my view,” Crosshair hisses. “Move.”

You roll your eyes. “You could've just asked me to move, you know. That's borderline harassment.”

“If you looked more like a window than a door, I wouldn’t have to borderline harass you,” Crosshair snarks and flicks his toothpick in your face.

Your nose scrunches and eyes close when the little wooden projectile hits your face. As your frustration builds, you take a deep breath to calm yourself. You want nothing more than to tell that sniper where he can shove his rifle, but you won't. It's not worth it because it will only fuel his bullying further. Instead, you choose to let it go. This time. There are points where you will cross the line, and he keeps dancing around that line. If he ever crosses it, you'll let him know.

“Can we get back to more important things?” Hunter asks, shifting his gaze between you and Crosshair.

Echo huffs and shakes his head. "I don't like it."

"We don't have to like it," Hunter says. "Orders are orders."

"What orders?" you ask.

Hunter swivels to face you. "There's rumors of an imperial base operating out of Scorro." Tech pulls up a holo of the planet and Hunter continues his explanation. "According to our intel, the GAR sent a squad of clones to scout the base, but their comms suddenly went silent. Another squad of clones were sent after them with the same result. Now they want us to investigate."

"Do they know what happened to the clones?" you ask, curious as to what's causing Echo's skepticism.

"No," Hunter crosses his arms. "They were never recovered."

"No one went back to get them?" you ask.

"It would be a waste of resources," Tech adds. "Besides, based on the trend, sending another clone squadron would yield the same results."

"But aren't we another clone squadron?" you ask, this time your nerves bleed through.

"Stop worrying!" Wrecker exclaims. "We can take on whatever they throw at us!"

His words don't make you feel better about the situation. While Echo is the only one openly objecting to the new mission, Hunter's facial expressions tell a different story than what he's leading everyone to believe. Your first inkling was the fact that he hasn't shoved you aside for this conversation. In fact, he's answered your questions without issue. He's serious about this in a way he hasn't been since you've met him. The fact that Hunter is worrying, has you worrying.

"I still don't like it," Echo frowns. "How'd they lose two clone squadrons without so much as one distress signal?"

"Maybe a new type of droid?" you offer. "Or their signals were jammed?"

"Groundbreaking ideas," Crosshair says.

"Everything is a valid option," Echo adds.

Crosshair rolls his eyes.

"Enough," Hunter says. "We're going to Scorro to investigate the rumors and to find the missing clones. Double-check our supplies and prepare for anything."

With the sergeant's final words, everyone scatters to prepare for the mission, except for Tech who punches in the new coordinates and sets the course for Scorro. You linger in the cockpit, silently observing Hunter as he pulls out his knife and twirls it around his fingers. The mission makes you nervous even though it shouldn't. You'll probably end up staying on the ship again, but maybe that's not a bad thing. You shake your head at the thought. That's not why you're here.

"Sergeant–"

"You too," Hunter says before you get a chance to ask. "You're coming with us."

You smile and nod. "Thank you, sir."

"Don't get the wrong idea," Hunter adds. "I need Echo for this mission, and I'm not leaving you alone on the ship."

"Yes, sir," you frown then turn back towards the bunks to get yourself situated.

Of course it would be too good to be true. For a second, you thought he actually wanted you on this mission, but he just wants to keep an eye on you. As a medic, you can help the missing troopers if they need medical attention, which you're confident they will. Your presence on the mission should be vital, not just an afterthought. Although, you shouldn't be upset that you're going on a mission, but you wish it was because of merit and not for the sake of babysitting.

Regardless, you will do your best on this mission and prove to Clone Force 99 that you are a good medic. That they need you. You're not sure how, but you will. When you get back to your bunk, you triple-check the supplies in your pack and stock as many bacta patches and stim shots as you can fit, plus some essential fluid and mineral packets, ration bars, and a few medical odds and ends that make sense to bring along. You want to be prepared for anything.

With your preparations made, it's another waiting game until you reach Scorro. You don't remember reading about that planet in your studies, but apparently it's rather primitive in nature, which is why no one has settled on it. It's an abandoned planet, making it a great outpost for mercenaries, pirates, and separatists. Pulling out your data-pad, you do a little more research to see what you can find out, but come up with the same dismal results that your holo-texts had.

It's not much longer before the Marauder drops out of hyperspace and the olive-green planet comes into view. When the holo-text said that Scorro was primitive, it wasn't kidding. It looks new and unabused by modern progress, and its vegetal hue is highly alluring. Your curiosity has now surpassed your trepidation about the rumors and missing clones. You're excited. This is a great opportunity, even if it's dangerous. The closer you get to the planet, the faster your heart beats.

“According to the scanners, there are no active fauna on this planet,” Tech states. "But the air is breathable."

“Just because the air is breathable doesn’t mean it’s good for you,” you point out. “Carbon monoxide is breathable but you’ll die before you figure out it’s bad for you.”

“Correction,” Tech adds. "The air is non-toxic towards human life-forms."

"Glad we could sort that one out," Crosshair says. "Any more words of wisdom?"

You narrow your eyes at him. "No."

"Take us in," Hunter says. "Land just outside the coordinates of the last clone squadron."

"Affirmative," Tech says, then flips a few switches before piloting the ship into the planet's atmosphere.

Once the ship has landed, Hunter addresses the group. "Our mission is to locate the two missing clone squadrons and investigate the rumors about an separatist base of operations. We'll use teams of two and spread out in an 800 meter radius from the last known coordinates. Keep the comm lines open and have your blasters at the ready."

Everyone nods and gears up, including you. Before you put your bucket on, you glance at the medic mark on your shoulder pauldron. No matter what happens, you have a job to do. You're a medic first. These men, your squad, are in your care and it's your responsibility to make sure they all survive. Steeling yourself for what's to come, you bite back every lick of fear that tries to take hold in your mind. You've trained hard for this, and you're not going to get cold feet now.

The side loading ramp opens and the bright sunlight of the planet blasts into the dimly lit ship. No turning back now. You follow the rest of the squad out of the ship and step onto the fresh earth of Scorro. For someone who grew up on Coruscant and spent the last cycle on Kamino, this much vegetation is mesmerizing. The sun is so warm, and the earth beneath your feet is so soft. This virgin planet is breathtaking. You take a few more steps forward, then Hunter stops.

"Tech, Crosshair, go east," Hunter says while pointing in that direction. "Wrecker and I will go north. Echo and Civvy, you'll go west.

The group nods and heads out in their respective directions.

"Stay frosty men," Hunter says over the comms. "There's no telling what we'll be up against out here."

You and Echo silently walk towards the western end of the perimeter, keeping your eyes peeled for any signs of the clone troopers or separatists. After a couple minutes, the silence grates on your nerves, but Echo seems focused right now. A little too focused. You know this mission bothered him from the beginning, but there seems to be something else about the way he carries himself that indicates it's not just about the mission being odd. There's something deeper.

As you continue forward, your foot kicks something hard. Looking down, you catch a glimpse of the familiar white plastoid clone trooper helmet, which is attached to a body shrouded by tall weeds. Your stomach flips. You weren't expecting to find one of them so quickly.

"Sarge," you say in the comms. "I found a trooper." Crouching down, you check for a pulse, but as you expected, there is none. "He's dead."

"We're making our way to your position now," Hunter says. "How'd he die?"

While your medic training didn't have an autopsy course, you inspect the body for the usual suspects. The armor is still intact and there's no signs of a struggle, which you find odd. There's no blaster marks, claw marks, bites, or scratches on the armor either. The black bodysuit isn't even ripped. He must have died from something. You pull back some of the black bodysuit and notice the tissue is necrotizing, but you don't see anything suspicious. Then you scan the body.

"Civvy, status," Hunter interjects over comms.

"I'm not sure how he died," you admit while reviewing the results of the scan. Echo looks over the body too, but doesn't come up with anything substantial. Not that you needed a second opinion.

"What do you mean you're not sure?" Hunter asks. "You're a medic, you should know how people die."

"There's no wounds," you explain. "He looks normal. Fine, even. Besides being dead." You don't mention it, but the fact that there are no organisms feasting on the clone's flesh also baffles you. You'd figure there would be more decay markers, but there's not even a single worm.

Hunter and Wrecker make it to your position and Hunter looks over the body, confirming what you said. "Then how the kriff did he die?"

You look up at Hunter from your crouched position next to the body and shrug. "We'd need a full autopsy to determine that, but the scans indicate no internal injuries either."

"So, he died from nothing?" Echo asks.

You shrug again. "Maybe he had a heart attack. That doesn't show up on portable scanners."

"Eighteen clone troopers died of a heart attack?" Hunter asks, his voice sounding distant.

"No," you rebut. "But maybe this one did."

Hunter points past you and you stand up to see what he wants you to look at. You tilt your head from side to side, scanning the area he's pointing at, when a glint of white pops up on your HUD. Then another. And another. Your eyes widen and your mouth gapes. The ground is littered with seventeen more troopers half-covered in tall weeds. The first squad and the second squad, dead mere meters from each other. You've never seen so many dead bodies before.

You feel your stomach grow queasy, and you rip off your helmet to vomit. As a medical student, you've seen cadavers, held organs in your hands, been bathed in blood, but nothing prepared you for the sight of a mass death. There's something menacing and sickly about it. You know most clones are never retrieved from battlegrounds and you know most clones will never see a proper burial, but knowing and witnessing are two different things. It's heartbreaking.

"You all right?" Echo asks.

You pant from the spasmic exertion, but find your voice. "I'm fine."

Tech and Crosshair arrive at your position soon after, and take note of the bodies. Everyone feels it now, the pressure looming thickly in the air. Something happened on this planet. Something killed these eighteen troopers and it killed them silently. There's an anxiety that creeps in as you wonder what it possibly could be. What is the silent hunter? How does it find its victims? And how can you and your squad escape from it? Perhaps, it may even be too late.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Echo says to Hunter.

Hunter sighs. "Me too."

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Masterlist

A03

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qhoaaaa · 4 months

Text

Milo with piercings and other features I imagine he has (and some hcs with Sweetheart hebehebeeheb)

Piercings!!/jewelry

He has them Dahlia piercings (lol) look them up they’re so cool

Has piercings on his ears, a few studs as well as a nose ring

Definitely buys different kinds of earrings and stuff to decorate his ears depending on the event

Brow piercing, especially on the right brow UGHH

They’re all gold colored, he also has some regular silver and black, has a few green colored studs as well

He’s gotta own a few gold chains (as a gold chain haver myself lmao), he keeps them in good condition

Sweetheart got him one as a gift and he teared up, kept asking them how much it was and they only said for him to not worry about it(it was expensive) - he wears it everyday and night and even in the shower

His neck sometimes gets nipped by the metal and when Sweetheart sees him bring a hand to rub at it, they ask, "Why don't you take it off?" And he says, "Eh, I don't wanna... it's from you, sure as hell I'm not gonna take it off."

Features:

Symmetrical beauty marks under his eyes (Sweetheart absolutely LOVESSS them, kisses his eyes a lot because of them), and on his cheeks too (genetics are INSANEEE)

Sharp canines,,, yesssss

Few patterned beauty marks on his shoulders

Most of his skin is just bare and smooth but Sweetheart loves when they see his beauty marks on his shoulders or his face when he’s taking a shirt off or resting

His back has a few long scars from sparring with the other wolves when he was younger, he didn’t want them healed fully, let them scar as a learning experience, Milo lets Sweetheart massage them or put a balm on them so the tissue doesn’t get weird, he feels all mushy (in a good way) when Sweetheart unexpectedly kisses down his scars (he makes sure to tell him it feels good too AWGWGW)

Really REALLY soft hands

Light chest hair (HSBSHS WORK WITH ME OKAY LET ME COOK)

Chest tattoo, it’s a singular design he made up himself (drew it and everything), it’s probably a symbol that’s important to him/his mother and his way to honor her, he has accompanying designs on his fingers

Tattoo of Sweetheart’s name on his nape (tell me that this wouldn’t look nice,, I’ll wait)

(Off topic but I saw a post where Marie and Colm have tattoos of Milo’s first paw prints of when he shifted for the first time and he would def do the same if he and Sweetheart have kids)

He and Sweetheart get ring tattoos on their ring fingers when discussing getting rings (I love that audio), they wear the actual rings on their thumbs

My personal opinion but he would not have grills ❌❌ (never liked those but to each their own !)

He has golden eyes (all wolves do and it’s just a variety of shades but his are golden golden and they’re so pretty, he wears brown contacts/Unempowereds see brown to cover the color)

Sweetheart has smile lines, they popped up after meeting and getting with Milo, Milo ADORES them

They used to hide their smile before meeting Milo, needless to say, they smile widely now, teeth and all and its the cutest to him, seeing that smile is how Milo knows that they're comfortable and relaxed and having fun

Theyre at least 6'3 , buff and curves THEY GOT IT ALL

Sweetheart works out at the gym semi regularly and Milo practically drools when he sees them and their muscles , they have long legs(LEG MUSCLES TOO) and he's all over them

Sweetheart loves his arms, no reason, they just do

They like to feel up and down his upper arms and his shoulders, he likes the touch

He has super curly black hair, got it from his mom (we love you Mama Greer) while most of his sisters have straight/wavy hair like their dad, no facial hair

He’s just reaaaaaalllllyyyty hot in general ouughhhhh 🫣🫣🫣

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted milo #redacted sweetheart #redacted wolf boys #qhoa has words #OUGAHHAHH #he is def afrolatino #Mexican and Kenyan argrhfhf #and multilingual

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christwi · 2 months

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do you think if moral orel characters were all ponies theyd cut off the wings and horns of non earth ponies because only god should have magic and only angels should fly. also stephanie is the only one in town who is openly a unicorn and never had a horn removal done.

orels a biological pegasus and has no idea why he has scars on his back and noone will tell him. (i think hes a pegasus because it adds a more angelic vibe) also clay may or may not still have wings that he covers up with bandages or duct tape and as such his wings never developed properly so theyre small and have feathers ripped out by the duct tape and likely by his dad too.

now somemay say clay is a unicorn but no i say. clay being a pegasus would give orel pegasus genetics which would then cause orel to have existential dread over being his fathers son forever tied to him by the feathers removed from him that still run in his bloodcuz birds of a feather stick together ithink. also danielles probably a changeling trying to use the puppingtons as life fuel.

also clay definitely notices that shapey appears to be a biological unicorn (i say appears to because hes a changeling like danielle too) and bloberta is an earth pony. they have no unicorn relatives.

w/ danielle being a changeling i also think shapey and block would be changelings and they switch forms to look like eachother. so its. harder to manage who is who

i think joe would be like scootaloo and have smaller wings that he cant really fly with that cause some insecurity that he hides with a tougher attitude along with his preestablished issues. ms secondopinionson has a similar condition to joe and has weak underdeveloped magic that she uses to temporarily disguise her voice

also i think part of the being underdevelopd would be related to ms censordoll burning books related to flying or magic causing folks who keep appendages to not know how to use them, but people would probably still be able to find resources somewhere if they were curious considering how easily orel could access the necronomicon

i like to think orel wants his wings back and gets prosthetic ones post nature cuz for one hes limping for life after having the injury and also i imagine its a cry for his innocence back, wings representing innocence and angelic nature and hes begging for a piece of an old self back before he knew what he knows now about his father

orel trying to get prosthetic wings would also be apart of his canon emo phase as a way of both being rebellious and also trying to reclaim the discomfort of being his fathers son and the dread of losing a part of himself and embracing his dread and angst into becoming an emo pegasus

also alot of ponies here are keeping their appendagesand hiding them with magic or clothes or duct tape or smth. like. rev keeps his horn and covers it with the wig. its just there for Convenience he doesnt wanna have to pick things up with his dumb little hooves when he has magic and i think his parents didnt have the money for an operation so hes still got the thing. also joes wings arent removed cuz his dad probably forgot he even. had them.

thats just a collection of ideas thank you goodnight

#moral orel #orel puppington #pony au #ponyfication #i havent thought about cutiemarks as much as ive thought of This.#but i think orel would have a cutiemark in stop motion animation and doughy would have one in. being a cockblocker LMFAO #either that or shooting things #stephanies got one in piercings. bloberta in cleaning. clay in. i dont fuckin know his cutiemark is the bi flag i guess

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the-hilda-librarians-wife · 3 months

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Not to be a big fat nerd but I’ve been thinking so much about Johanna’s relationship to a body she doesn’t understand growing up. Her medical records say her blood is O-, but that’s because it has none of the usual membrane proteins that would allow it to be classified into the ABO or the Rh systems; her ears are pointier than any other kid in her class’s, but that’s gotta be genetic, right? Like those genes that make it so the lobe is stuck or loose? But she can’t know, her auntie is the only family she has and she insists she doesn’t feel comfortable showing her ears, for some reason. Many of her classmates say they’re allergic to polen, but she doesn’t get it! How come, she only feels awesome when she’s in nature. She does feel her throat tighten sometimes, though, and her skin break out in rashes. But that’s only ever when she eats red meat (and beans, too, but only if she drinks orange juice along with it. It never made a lot of sense to her) or touched something with rust in it. She feels the most alert at dawn and dusk; thats kind of odd, most people her age feel groggy at school in the early mornings. But everyone has different circadian rhythms, she supposes.

She grows up, and gets pregnant; her obgyn is worried, her body is giving signs of rejecting the fetus, it’s producing antibodies against it. Johanna is horrified. Her aunt only chuckles and says her mother had something similar, she gives Johanna a homemade herbal tea and an amulet and all the symptoms disappear. The problem goes undiagnosed. They test the child’s blood,right after the c section (the pregnancy had been too freaky, the gynecologist didn’t want to risk a normal birth). Her results came back O- as well, but how is this possible? The father is an AB+, after all. Doesn’t matter. It’s not the doctor’s business if she’s cheating — but it is their business if the baby’s blood test was mistaken and the Rh- mother came into contact with Rh+ blood. That’s what they say when they connect a bag of anti Rh+ antibodies to her IV access. Better to be safe than to risk fetal erythroblastosis next time she has a kid. They explain this to her, and it makes no sense — she isn’t cheating. But the doctors don’t seem to be willing to listen to her, just like they aren’t willing to believe that blue hair runs in the family. They call the hospital’s social worker to talk to her; maybe she’s drunk, maybe there’s a reason she lies so much. She walks away from that hospital angry and frustrated.

Her daughter doesn’t have her pointy ears. But the allergy to iron, she seems to have inherited. She just hid it better, behind the explanation of a vegan diet. Neither of them ever suffered from the low blood iron. No blood test ever says her daughter is Rh positive, but she knows Anders’ was, she knows it. Is that even possible? She looks it up, finds out it is, actually, if he was a heterozygous positive. But nothing justifies her being O, it should have been A or B. Has Johanna done that herself? Single-handedly bent the actual rules of genetics and made it so it’d be harder for her daughter to get blood, should she ever need it? Sounds unlikely, but it’s not, really, right? Many people have O- blood. And autoimmune conditions. And allergy to iron. It’s normal. It’s all normal. She isn’t special. She’s not in danger. But isn’t there something you’re forgetting? Isn’t there something you’re forgetting? Isn’t there something you’re forgetting?

#this got. longer than planned.#i've been rotating that drawing of Sadie's in my head like a microwave. u know the one #GOD imagine if she took a genetic test #‘congratulations! you are half Norwegian and half something so unknown and terrifying our lab technician quit her job’#I wrote this real quick. really hoping I didn’t say anything stupid egsjgsjshd #Johanna hilda #Hilda the series #Hilda netflix #Hilda s3

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kaija-rayne-author · 11 months

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Would you recognize an autistic or ADHD person if you saw one?

What about an autistic or ADHD fictional character?

Many of y'all will say, of course.

And you'll be wrong.

I'm not talking to hatched autistics and ADHDers. We can usually spot others like us and autistic/ADHD coded characters in fiction.

Definition: A 'hatched' autistic or ADHDer is someone who knows they're one or the other or both, AND they understand and accept that pretending to be neurotypical is bad for us.

It actually kills us, so, yeah, bad. The leading causes of death for autistics is unaliving or heart attack from the stress of living in a world that was most certainly not created for us. In some ways, this world is antithetical to us.

We also experience the stress of what's known as 'masking'.

Our average age of death is 36 years old. Think about that for a second. 36. And the rates of unaliving in autistic and ADHD kids is utterly obscene. The suicide watch for parents of autistic kids starts at 8 years old. 8.

(I don't say this for everything, but self-diagnosis is absolutely valid for autism and ADHD. In a world where people can still be institutionalized or lose their kids because of an autism diagnosis--this is fact for Britain and several US states. France is awful for autistics-- self diagnosis must be valid so we can figure ourselves out without endangerment.)

Masking is where a traumatized autistic (and I've also never met or even heard about an untraumatized autistic/ADHDer) will create a, persona, almost, that lets us function in the world.

It's rarely intentional, my youngest son started masking at 4 in pre-kindergarten because he wanted other kids to like him and want to play with him. Even though our home is very supportive of diversity, especially about autism and ADHD, y'all... he was *4*.

Being autistic and/or ADHD is so damned lonely. Especially if you don't know why you're different. So we do our best to adapt. That can cause issues.

Masking isn't meant as a lie. It's survival instinct. Because even though the world absolutely doesn't treat us like we're human beings, we still are. We want to survive and thrive as much as the next hominid. We have all the same needs and desires as any other human.

But what about the rest of all y'all? Can you recognize us?

Last week, a music teacher banned a 6 year old autistic kid from the school concert because 'they would ruin the experience for the other children' this is after making the autistic kid learn and practice the songs for weeks. 6 years old and that kid already has scars from discrimination about a genetic condition he can't help. It's cruel and so damned inhumane. At worst, the kid probably sang off key and maybe fidgetted a bit. But that would 'ruin' the concert. It's not the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir, lady, it's an elementary school concert. It's absolutely not worth scarring that poor kid over. It also happened back in 2022, and again in 2017.

People will have seen 'Atypical' or 'The Good Doctor' or, gods forbid, Rainman and think they know what autistic people look like. (You should probably know that the majority of autistics loathe those shows because the rep is so bad.)

But here's the thing.

You can't see autism or ADHD. Not just by looking at us. It's purely a brain wiring difference. People don't even believe me when I tell them I am if they've seen me in person. And I'm professionally diagnosed as both autistic & ADHD.

Sometimes, there are co occurring issues, like intellectual disability, that are confused with autism, but they aren't actually the autism or ADHD part of things.

I'm an autistic and ADHD advocate. I have a consultant option on my Patreon for people who want advice either for themselves or so they do the right thing by their kids. I'm autistic/ADHD, my kids are too. I've been researching and learning about the topic for close to a decade at this point. I truly know what I'm talking about. I understand the different flavours and experiences of these two types of neurodivergency extremely well.

As an aside, while I have you here, ABA (Applied Behavior Analysis) is never the right thing. You know how gay conversion therapy is bad? The same person (Ivar Lovass) came up with ABA, and it's meant to do the same thing. To torture people, most often children, into pretending to be what someone else wants them to be. It doesn't support or help the autistic person.

Almost unilaterally, ABA causes a PTSD breakdown of self coming into our 30s. I say almost, but I've never even heard of an autistic person who has been tortured by ABA who hasn't developed severe PTSD.

If you tried to use the methods used in ABA on a dog, you'd be guilty of extreme animal cruelty.

Yet, because it's practiced on human children, it's fiiiiine. Big money lobbying has even made it so that ABA 'therapy' is the only one covered by a lot of insurances.

We can thank Autism $peaks for that. They are a hate group. They fit every bit of the definition of one and then some. (So please don't donate to them at the till. They love to pollute stores like Toys 'R' Us.)

Adult autistics have been speaking out against them forever. But since most autistics (80%) are under or unemployed, we don't have the kind of financial sway we'd need to get rid of them. Yes, this even counts for 'the new ABA'.

You can't save ABA. Putting a 2 year old human child through 40 hours weekly of 'training' so that they can look and act neurotypical is just flat out torture. Making a child 'extremely hungry or thirsty' so that they will do what you want is torture. There's just no other way to slice that apple. It's rotten to the core.

But back to my point.

Recently, someone disagreed with my opinion on a fictional character. I feel the character is autistic/ADHD coded, the other person disagreed.

That's cool. Opinions are like assholes, everyone has one. And it's fiction, whatever. I'm not mad or upset. (I'm slightly insulted, because if you're not autistic/ADHD, [and a comparison they suggested made me think they definitely weren't] it's definitely not your place to disagree with one of us who says a character is autistic/ADHD coded. It's disrespectful and more than a little ableist. Simply because so many people have the completely wrong idea about both conditions.)

Regardless, the important part for a fictional character is that a person was able to see themselves in the character, to empathize with them. So it's not a big deal.

But it got me thinking about this.

Would most people recognize the subtle signs? They're almost always extremely subtle.

Ever hear of 'resting bitch face'? It's an incredibly common autistic trait because we either emote less or we emote differently than neurotypicals. In our world, it's known as 'flat face effect'. I have it, and I've been harmed many times because it looks like I'm pissed off even when I'm having a good time or I'm just deep in thought. I've got a firey temper, trust me when I say you'll know it when I'm pissed off.

So. You see a character (or even a person) who doesn't emote a lot? Or emotes extremely subtly? Wellll... that's a good clue.

So, X fictional character (or person) has odd or esoteric knowledge or hobbies. That's a good clue.

Are they nerdy or geeky in some way?

Most autistics and many ADHDers experience what's known as hyperfixation on special interests. Ever see someone get so fascinated by a topic or skill or activity that they get lost in it?

Forget to eat or drink?

Learn to do an obscure craft just because they wanted to know how it's done? That person is likely autistic or ADHD or both. It applies to fictional characters too.

Are they stand-offish? Many of us are for various reasons. One is that we're trying to figure out the 'rules' of wherever and whoever we're with.

Why all y'all insist on staring creepily at each others eyeballs is beyond me. I find it either too intimate, painfully so, or just ridiculous.

That quiet character (or person) who warms up slowly? There's a hint.

Another reason we tend to be cool with strangers is that ever present trauma thing. So many autists and ADHDers get to the point in life where we just don't have it in us anymore to keep trying to make social connections. A very common trait of both autism and ADHD is a lack of understanding of neurotypical social rules. And trust me, y'all have them.

Does the character or person fidget? Either subtly or more obviously?

It's called stimming. I had to learn to do it unobtrusively, so I'll suck air through my teeth (my dentist isn't impressed by this), circle my pointer finger around my thumb, tap the pad of each finger on my thumb in a rhythm, count silently to myself... the list is probably endless. I intentionally leave the cuticles on my thumbs rough, because I often rub the forefinger or ring finger of that hand over the rough cuticle as a stim.

Maybe they rotate their ring around a finger?

Play with their hair?

Stimming is something that calms us down and helps us regulate our emotions. (It's also one of the first things ABA robs us of. It's called 'quiet hands'.) It's really bad to deprive an autistic or ADHDer of stimming.

I used to click the button on a pen so much that I banned myself from having clicky pens because of how annoying it can be to others.

There are healthy stims and unhealthy ones. (Head banging is an example of an unhealthy stim.)

So a character or person who is just, always moving somehow? There's a hint. Or they're rhythmically moving a body part? Tapping fingers? Wiggling a foot or leg? Fussing with their clothing? Rocking?

Is the character or person 'a walking encyclopedia'? In other words, do they know a lot of information about either one or two topics or about many topics?

That character (or person) is often stereotyped as being a computer genius who can make any computer work just by looking at it for a few minutes. But it can honestly be any topic or combination of topics. That's another clue.

Many autists are almost hard wired to be painfully honest. Unless we've been traumatized into it, we tend to be shitty liars. I'm, unfortunately, a very good liar. It's not something I choose to do, because I don't want my trauma to change something so innate to me as my honesty. I had to learn to lie to survive. I don't recommend it.

Does the person or character truly believe in things like honour? Justice? Mercy? Peace? (Many neurotypical people will call these things social lies that keep the world working.) I'm talking a bone deep belief in honour etc. Are they a shitty liar?

I think I've blathered enough for now. I want to make it clear that I don't speak for all autistic and ADHD folks. I'm just one person attempting to share some of the more common traits with whoever wants to read about it.

A final thought.

Nothing can make someone autistic or ADHD. It's a genetic condition. Which is why so many parents find out they're autistic or ADHD when their kids are diagnosed. It's not more prevalent now, it's just that more people are learning about the actual parameters of it. Diagnosis is easier now than 50 years ago. It's been around since ancient Egypt and probably evolved as a way to keep the clan safe in prehistoric times.

We often have heightened senses. Sometimes we have what I call 'predator vision' which sounds awful but just means that my gaze is automatically drawn to movement. Our sleep cycles are also commonly very different than a neurotypical's. We probably ended up being people who would take night watch, stare at the stars for hours, or warn people when food has gone off so no one eats it.

I think we evolved right alongside neurotypicals because we're both needed for a successful society.

Many, many of the world's famed thinkers/creators are considered to have likely been autistic/ADHD based on records about them.

These people include:

Leonardo DaVinci

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni

Nikolai Tesla

Albert Einstein

Thomas Jefferson

Charles Darwin

Emily Dickinson

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

William Butler Yeats

Vincent Van Gogh

Benjamin Franklin

People who are autistic or ADHD these days that you may not expect?

Dan Ackroyd

Darryl Hannah

Anthony Hopkins

Jerry Seinfeld

Eminem

Courtney Love

David Byrne

Wentworth Miller

Satoshi Tajiri (creator of Pokemon)

There are also many, many people who have shown autistic or ADHD traits and haven't confirmed or it's impossible to confirm because they're deceased and we don't have the right records.

It's considered a massive faux pas to assign a diagnosis of anything to a living human being. So everyone living I've listed has in some way confirmed it. There are many, many other people (especially in creative industries or hobbies) I believe are likely one or the other, but I wouldn't label. That's for them to do.

If you enjoyed this or learned something and you can, please consider a tip or becoming a Patron. My work of words is my only income.

Every historical person is just a 'likely' because we'll never actually know. All we can do is point at the exhibited traits via records and say, probably.

#being autistic #autistic things #actually autistic #autism #ADHD #actually adhd #autistic problems #autistic adult #autistic #late diagnosed autistic #late diagnosed adhd #fiction #fictional characters #fiction critique

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