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ohdeerfully · 2 months

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hi!! i absolutely love your writing, you write alastor so so well and i absolutely devoured everything you have posted... would you by any chance be open to writing alastor with a f!reader who has an eating disorder/anorexia? <3 it's a triggering topic so i totally understand if you'd rather not! 💖 i've just recently been stressed about feeling like i need to lose weight again despite already having lost quite a lot and it just feels. never enough, so i would much appreciate some comfort! thank you for sharing your writing with us! 💖

hi my love!! i know you requested this some time ago, and i hope youve been feeling better (,: i also struggle with this type of thing so i 100% dont mind writing about it, but just know that you are super beautiful and worth every sweet treat and meal you get!!! mwah mwah mwah i hope you like the story ^.^

Ma Moitié

Alastor x Reader (fluff/comfort)

TW: eating disorder!!! alastor is def OOC hes being a sweetie pie join my discord!

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You always had a poor relationship with your body and food, in life and in death. You went through periods of weight loss, gain, loss again—some seemingly never ending cycle that no amount of therapy has managed to halt.

Your mind was currently weighing the pros and cons of eating the slice of cake offered to you by Charlie. She was celebrating the arrival of a few new residents, the first to arrive since the last extermination. The news really helped the hotel garner some attention, that plus the fancy new renovation Lucifer himself helped with… needless to say, Charlie was thrilled. So, she threw a little party. You had been standing awkwardly near the doorway, trying to find an opportunity to slip away from the small party. But you doubted you could escape without your absence being noticed; there really weren't that many people here to begin with.

You had accepted the cake out of sheer politeness, but you now just held the plate loosely in your hands, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you thought. You’ve been feeling particularly… susceptible to the calories in food lately. You considered the fact that you hadn’t eaten much today—or, honestly, the whole week for that matter. It shouldn’t hurt to just have one slice of cake. Just this once.

But… still…

You frowned down at the cake. Picking up the plastic fork, you took a tiny chunk from it and lifted it to your lips. Your lips quivered as the food touched your tongue, and you felt sick as you chewed. You managed to swallow after an unnecessarily long few seconds of chewing, and you continued to just stare down at your plate. You didn’t think you’d be able to handle another bite.

Niffty had seen the sickly expression on your face, and loudly started throwing questions at you. Were you sick? Did you hate the party? Why didn’t you like the cake she made? Her loud voice was growing in volume, and catching the attention of a few other demons in the room. You tried various ways to shush her, attempting to answer her questions politely, but you felt your heart rate pick up at the obviously growing number of eyes.

“I’m not incredibly fond of sweets myself,” You heard that radio-afflicted voice pipe up from behind. You couldn’t help but jump at the unexpected presence, but you turned your head with a light smile. Alastor was looking curiously down at Niffty and you.

“Ah, yeah, the cake’s great, I just… don’t like dessert that much…” You lied. You actually really liked cake, but it had been a long time since you were actually able to enjoy it without feeling intensely guilty about it. The tiny demon made a fussy comment about how nobody appreciated her and all of her hard work, stomping away. Her mood didn’t last, though, immediately getting caught up in cleaning something you couldn’t even see.

You turned your head to thank Alastor, but you saw his smile drop slightly as he looked at you. The demon bent at the waist to lean down, his mouth near your ear and his usually boisterous voice quieted to a whisper. “Is everything alright, mon coeur?”

You felt your face heat up, both at the words he spoke and the proximity. You and Alastor had been quietly ‘official’ for quite a while now, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the small gestures of affection from the Radio Demon. It felt weird if you thought about it too long.

“I’m okay, just…” You weren’t sure how open you wanted to be about how you were feeling. Alastor knew about your poor body image and eating habits, but he truthfully never really knew how to go about comforting you. Plus, you felt as if your personal struggles were trivial to a literal Overlord of Hell. You didn’t want to bother him with your own shit.

“I’m fine,” You finally decided. You could tell Alastor knew you were lying, with that furrow of his eyebrows, but he stood up straight and didn’t push. You sighed and gently placed the plate of cake down on a small entryway table by the door you had been lurking near.

“I’ll get us out of here,” He declared with a wide smile, and he strode forward to where Charlie stood talking to the group of new guests. She knew Alastor was approaching due to the look of horror that slowly crossed the new demon’s faces. You couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, but it looked like she briefly scolded Alastor for being so damn intimidating for no reason.

They chatted for a moment, and you could hear the Radio Demon’s obnoxious laughter from across the room. He gestured to himself, then to you, to which Charlie looked in your direction. You shot her a small smile. She smiled back, nodded, and turned away to continue talking to the new residents—who all had been slowly inching away from Alastor. They looked incredibly relieved when he left the group.

He gave you a grin and wordlessly threaded his arm around yours, linking you at the elbow. You lifted your hand to give his upper arm an appreciative squeeze as you left the room. Your eyes lingered on the abandoned slice of cake as you walked away, feeling guilty in more ways than one.

Alastor had led you to your room, releasing your arm and leaning his body weight on his cane as he looked down at you. You glanced up at him, then back down, pursing your lips as you stared at anything else in the room.

“I hate when demons lie to me,” He said, eyes narrowed. Of course, you knew he wasn’t truly mad at you. Maybe frustrated. “What’s wrong.” It was more like a statement than a question. A demand.

You sat heavily down on the edge of your bed, fiddling with your fingers.

“I don’t know, Al,” You muttered. You hated this. “I just… You know how I get sometimes.” It somehow felt so silly, telling him about this.

Alastor had sat down next to you, his arm wrapped over your shoulder and a clawed hand rubbing up and down your forearm. You could tell his touch was light, awkward, unsure—but the gesture was appreciated nonetheless. While Alastor typically had no problem overstepping boundaries and shoving demons around purely to aggravate them, he obviously had no real idea how to be intimate and kind. But he tried for you.

He took his other hand and slipped it under your legs, swiftly lifting you and pulling you further up the bed. He leaned his body against the headboard, and dragged you over to lay your torso against his own.

“I don’t understand why you worry about all this, dear,” He mused, his fingers threading through your hair. His other hand graced past your stomach, which caused you to subconsciously flinch away. You felt his hand pause, but he didn’t mention it.

“I wish I didn’t have to,” You responded slowly, your cheek squished against his chest. “But I’ve dealt with this since I was alive. I feel like it’ll never get better.”

“Dearest, you have a whole eternity here,” He mused in response. He placed a finger under your chin and craned your head to meet his gaze. “You need to be strong to survive down here; to stay sane. A healthy body leads to a healthy mind.”

Of course Alastor was always thinking about strength and survival. He was an Overlord, after all. You didn’t respond to him, but you kept looking at him as he spoke. There was an odd look in his eyes as he talked.

“Plus,” He continues. His words were slow, and his mouth moved as if the words tasted unnatural on his tongue. This uncertainty that touched the Radio Demon’s voice was… rare, to say the least. “I want to see ma moitié happy. I am… incredibly devoted to you.”

Your ear pricked when you noticed the radio frequency in his voice completely dropped when he spoke the words. That look in his eyes—you finally recognized it as some odd sense of passion and endearment. An emotion that you could tell confused him, with the strain in his brow as he examined you. He meant the words he said, no matter how unnatural they felt leaving his mouth.

You rested your head back down on his chest. You knew this conversation wouldn’t “cure” you or anything, but you hoped that maybe you could think back on his words everytime your hands shook as you held a fork to your mouth. Of all demons in Hell, Alastor’s opinion was probably the most important to you, and you knew his devotion wouldn’t halt because of a few pounds; Alastor had to be deeply, deeply passionate about you to even let you lay on top of him like this.

You only hummed in response, and simply rested your head back against his chest. You hugged your arm tightly against him to try to convey that you appreciated his words, but you didn’t really know what to say.

“Would you join me for breakfast tomorrow?” Alastor asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “I know this wonderful place that I frequent for coffee…”

You thought for a moment, again weighing the pros and cons; a habit that you struggled to drop when it came to meals. Your mind was buzzing with thoughts of what kind of food might be there, and if you should ration out the meals for the rest of the day. But, you felt the thoughts melt away when Alastor’s hand rubbed a comforting circle against your cheek, and then trailing down towards your shoulder in a light squeeze.

“Okay,” you finally said. It wouldn’t hurt to have a decent meal for once. You pulled yourself up onto your elbows again to look at Alastor. “Sounds awesome.”

His smile twisted up, his teeth peeking through a small gap in his lips. His head inched forward, but then paused, and you could tell his mind was racing with various thoughts. You waited for him to decide and, after a few moments, he closed the gap and lightly pressed his lips against yours. It was brief, as most intimate contact with him was, but you enjoyed it while it lasted.

“You will always be my only weakness,” Alastor admitted tenderly. “The most captivating demon in all of Hell.”

You couldn’t stop the shy smile that spread across your face at his words. You sputtered out some awkward response, to which he simply hummed and smiled at. He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the headboard, his fingers still playing with your hair gently.

You followed suit, resting your head against his chest and closing your own eyes. You didn’t even realize how tired you were, too caught up in the rare intimacy with Alastor. You let your worries of breakfast fade away, choosing to just enjoy the warmth of his body so close to yours.

#ohdeerfully #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #fluff #comfort #eating disorder #TW: eating disorder #TW: disordered eating #disordered eating

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cultofdixon · 8 months

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You do what you can

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Grimes’s Sister!Reader • This group desperately needs a home, and you need help. There’s only so much the archer and leader can do • ANGST/SFW • TW: Pregnancy / Excessive Nausea & Vomiting / Malnutrition

Requested by: Anon

Hyperemesis Gravidarum, or severe vomitting is what Hershel said. It’s excessive nausea and vomiting that results in being unable to eat and drink because you can’t keep anything down.

Of course I had it.

Finding out I was pregnant in the prison, during the good times was of course bittersweet. Daryl, my partner, was worried about losing me like Lori but reassured that everything would be fine. Then the illness came through and he thought I had it with how intense my morning sickness was.

But Hershel reassured us and well scared us about a lot of the reactions that come with not being able to keep anything down.

“Please, what can I do?”

“Some just have this, Daryl. I’ll keep an eye on her. You gotta help the others”

While Daryl helped get medicine for those suffering the prison illness, he managed to find IV bags of fluids and that helped keep me hydrated when I couldn’t even take a sip of water without my throat burning.

Then well…a lot happened after that

Days have passed and again, a lot has happened. The prison collapsed, the group splitting, Beth’s disappearance, The Claimers,…Terminus, and now the group found themselves in the forest after barley escaping that hell they claimed as a “sanctuary for all” but it wasn’t.

After the small reunion, the group started to walk to…somewhere that wasn’t there. Eventually finding the chapel and the priest that almost lost his life if they didn’t arrive.

Before she even stepped foot into the small chapel, Y/N gripped Daryl’s arm indicating she needed to throw up again and step away to do so. Least she’s trying to inform him instead of disappearing for a few minutes to vomit in the woods. Not a pretty sight or…a pleasant sound.

Rick noticed the two coming in last as Y/N pulls away from Daryl to sit in a pew before ultimately laying down in it. He frowns trying to think of what he could do, she is his sister after all.

“How she doing?” He asks the second the archer approached him after checking on her once more.

“We better have a plan soon” Daryl frowns crossing his arms. “Doubt we’ll run into another hospital but the IV shit helped. Gotta find something like it”

“Or try to get her to drink. Just. Shit, I don’t know what else to do. Lori never had this shit”

The archer was sort of lost in his own mind, trying to plan something out that could help his partner. But every end is a dead one.

“I’m gonna keep watch, holler if?”

“Yeah, go ahead” Rick frowns watching Daryl go back to the pew Y/N was currently laid in, informing her of where he’ll be before stepping out of the chapel and Carol following behind him.

A few hours passed and Y/N jolted awake from an anxious thought only to feel the jacket draped over her which belonged to her brother. She eventually brought herself to sit up and put the jacket on entirely feeling the dryness of her hands, especially after not being able to have nutrients.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Michonne brought herself to sit with Y/N as she instantly rests her head on her friend’s shoulder. “Rick is taking watch and Daryl still isn’t back yet, just thought—-“

“He’s looking for Beth”

“How do you—?”

“Gut feeling…” Y/N frowns bringing her hands onto her small bump, feeling the anxiety bubble up inside her. “Michonne?”

“Yes?”

“…I…I’m afraid of losing my baby” She did her best to keep the tears from coming even if her body fought her against it and worsened her headache by bringing on the tears. “or of them losing—-“

“We will find the help you need. To keep you both alive and well”

But the worse kept coming, and we kept losing.

Bob was the first because of a bite. Then it was Beth at the hospital because of a cop with a trigger finger. Then Tyreese from blood loss because of an amputation caused by a bite. Sasha lost a partner and her brother, Maggie lost the last of her family. The two were on edge, Daryl felt like he failed, and the group was slowly weakening the more they continued on this blind path given the real news about Eugene came out. So no more hope for a cure. It will always be survival for those living through the apocalypse.

Maggie grew extra attached to Y/N given her state and the group can’t take another loss if it happened. Every time Y/N had to throw up or take a breather while the others kept walking, besides Daryl, Maggie was always there glued to her side which included Glenn glued to hers.

“Rick” Maggie called out for him with a bit of venom in her voice as he gave her a concerned look while handing Judith to Carol. “We need a break”

“It’s barely midday, we have to keep walking”

“Y/N can’t keep walking any longer. She needs a break” Maggie frowns pulling him to look directly at Y/N who was struggling to keep herself up even with Daryl’s help.

“Alright…Alright!” Rick nods directing people into the tree line, out of the road, to set up camp for the rest of the day and night.

Abraham took care of checking their surroundings as Sasha retraced their steps making sure they weren’t followed by anything or anyone. Carol got Noah and Glenn to help her set a few trigger lines for those who want to sleep. As much as Daryl wanted to help secure their surroundings, he felt as if he’d leave Y/N, that she’d decline. She’s already doing so but he thought he’d accelerate the process the moment he leaves.

“Can yea try for me?” Daryl frowns giving the last of his water to his partner as she nods, accepting his help with drinking from his canteen. He noticed a bit of a skin reaction on her neck from scratching the dryness as it was the same on her left arm. “Try not to scratch anymore…”

“Hard not to…” Y/N frowns leaning against the tree as Daryl sets his canteen down with his stuff bringing himself to sit against the tree. Gesturing with his eyes for her to lay her head in his lap. “We’ll find something…right, Dar?”

“I promise yea, sunshine” Daryl reassures brushing the hair out of her face watching Maggie approach them draping the blanket Rosita gave her to give Y/N over her body. The poor girl had already fallen asleep after being still long enough. “We’ll find somewhere right?”

“If we have to take it from somebody, then yeah. We’ll find somewhere” Maggie reassures him with a smile but hell, he knew she was anxious about her state.

The night was rough.

While she was exhausted more than the others because of being pregnant and having to be a part of less than 3% of pregnant individuals with hyperemesis gravidarum, she couldn’t control her anxiety jerks that would wake her. Freaking out Daryl every time and him waking resulted in Rick and Maggie waking given they stuck close to the two. Then the almost every hour to vomit. It’s gotten bad that Y/N started to dry heave and that would wake the rest sleeping. But every complain resulted in either her partner glaring at them or her brother snapping.

“My head hurts…” Y/N whispers to herself as the group started walking again the next day, this time she was with Carol while Daryl searched around for anything to have a longer stay in. Away from staying outside.

“Is that it?” Carol’s worry came out of her tone as she brought her arm around Y/N’s waist when she noticed her sway slightly. “You’ve got the last of the water…not like it was enough…we need a miracle or something”

“Kids first…Jude needs it. Carl needs it—-“

“You and your baby do too” Her tone shifted to strict immediately. She remembered how Y/N sacrificed a lot of her things in the past to keep everyone else afloat and she wasn’t about to let her do it again when it comes to her health.

It felt like fate or a foreshadow given after that conversation, everyone surrounded a cluster of water bottles in the middle of the road about an hour later.

“Someone has to test it” Eugene went to grab one and it was immediately smacked out of his hands by Abraham. “What!”

“It could be a trap” Rosita scoffs at him. “You think we’d give a pregnant woman poisoned water”

“Not like I can keep it down” Y/N whispers as she stares at the cluster before flinching to the touch of water. Water?

The storm that Rick expected to come days later, decided to come sooner and thank Mother Nature for that. Few started to empty to bottles and fill it with rain water as it was the next best thing, then those who’ve lost so much took the “peaceful” moment to take it all in.

As Y/N looks up at the rainfall feeling the heat expel her body for a moment and a sudden wave of uncertainty take her. But before she could even be audible about such, her body had enough.

“Y/N!” Maggie yells the second her body hit the floor as Daryl instantly dropped to her aid checking her person for any injury.

But it was just her body shutting down and that thought triggered Daryl.

“I saw a barn a few yards inward. We gotta—-“

Rick didn’t hesitate another moment as he quickly picked up his sister in his arms while Daryl led the way to the temporary shelter he found.

After another rough night and sort of rude morning, Daryl protectively held Y/N close to his person the second she woke around the time this Aaron guy was discovered.

“Hey…hey” Daryl fought back tears watching her wake as she didn’t say anything but rest her head against his chest in a sense of reassurance. “You’re gonna be okay, okay? Please” his voice cracked trying to say more.

“Our community can protect her, your daughter.” Aaron tried to sell this unknown community as he glances to the situation happening behind Rick and directed toward that. “Can save her from dying—-“

Watch your words.

Rick instantly grabbed his collar forcing the man against the nearest wall glaring into his soul. “She ain’t dying and how do I know you wouldn’t kill her in this place?”

“B-Because we won’t! You don’t have to trust us right away b-b-but we have an infirmary. A-A surgeon that knows his stuff”

If his sister wasn’t in this condition, he wouldn’t have give in so easily. Not like he wouldn’t watch this total stranger like a hawk when checking her person.

Which led them to giving about five percent of their trust to this stranger and following him with his partner to Alexandria, the community he talked about. A few residents that helped with the infirmary tried taking Y/N on a gurney but her family was close to killing a few people for trying to touch her without warning. Soon Daryl along with Maggie followed the few that pulled Y/N away on the gurney they brought out after Aaron’s partner Erin radio’d in.

“If you keep glaring, it won’t let me work faster” Peter states, getting the IV into Y/N’s arm after he asked Maggie to help her out of her clothes and into a new change of clothes enough to show some of the skin lesions she had so he could take care of them.

“Don’t do anythin’ without informing” Daryl glares keeping close to Y/N’s bedside on the other side. Peter looks at him with a blank expression, tensing a bit every now and then.

“She’ll stay here until she’s hydrated enough, or least til your group gets placement.” He states hanging the bag after taping the IV on her arm. “Y’all said she’s pregnant?”

For an anxious reason, Daryl gave Maggie a worried expression thinking…yeah…when Peter was simply asking to confirm it or not.

“Yeah, she’s pregnant. Why?” Maggie frowns watching Peter’s every move as he stepped away to one of the storage closets for equipment they have and or get from runs.

“We don’t have an ultrasound machine. Just tests and one of these things I forgot the name of” Peter held a device that could detect the heartbeat of a fetus, as for checking the conditions they’d have to go full old school for that and he’d need to find a book in their library, if they have one on pregnancy. But for now they have this.

Right before Peter even moved the blanket to lift her shirt to put the wand on, Y/N flinched pulling herself away given she woke once more in the middle of all that. Daryl frowns, relieved though, as he brushes back her hair catching her worried expression.

“He’s gonna check on the peanut, Y/N. Just let’em. I won’t let him do anythin’ else” Daryl reassures as Y/N nods slowly letting the man work but kept her eyes on him while he turned the device on and guided the wand to the right spot.

Heartbeat

A surprisingly healthy heartbeat

“That’s good. Strong” Peter states pulling the wand away before fixing the blanket over her and putting the device away. “I’ll come back in an hour or two to give her more fluids. Want me to tell your leader you’ll be in here?” He asks Maggie given the two watched Daryl drop to his knees hugging Y/N tightly her in her laid out state.

“Please.” Maggie gave a small smile letting the man leave before bringing herself to the other side of her bed resting her hand on her leg. “We’ll make this place work. To keep you both safe”

The two held onto one another and Maggie kept an eye on them for Rick before leaving to give them a minute. She kept close to the infirmary in case either of the two needed anything as she watches Rick practically run his way over to her with a worried look.

“She’s going to be okay. They both are” Maggie smiles watching the tension leave Rick’s shoulders for a moment as he instantly went for a hug with his friend.

When they parted, before the retired sheriff went in to check on his sister himself…the remaining Greene stopped him.

“Yeah?”

“We need to make this place work, Rick”

“I know…but—-“

“You can be cautious. We all are gonna be a while…but we all need this to work. For us, your kids, for them. We need this place for us”

“You do what you can for your family, and I’ll always protect mine”

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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ethereal-maniac · 3 months

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Eventually It Starts To Hurt

A/n: please let me know if i missed any triggers and this is my first fic so please be kind 💜

Ghouls X fem!reader, mainly Swiss X reader X Sodo

(can be seen as romantic or platonic)

Summary: you're having a particularly bad time when the ghouls go on tour, so they try their best to comfort you when they get back. (extremely fluffy).

❗️TW❗️: reader is quite depressed, the angst is brief but it’s there, crying, slight nausea, appetite loss, reader goes nonverbal for a bit, reader not being able to keep up with hygiene, it’s not really that intense, SOFT GHOULS.

You lie in bed under your many blankets, crying as you cling to a pillow for comfort.

Your heart had been practically vacant ever since the ghouls left to go on tour, a heaviness had consumed it that you were struggling to adjust to.

The amount of change made a pounding headache hit you like a freight train.

Thoughts now swirl around your head creating a mess of distraught panic and tears.

It showed just how much impact they had in your life and it scared you.

You wouldn't leave your room.

Everything was a mess.

The curtains stayed closed.

The lights stayed off.

You didn’t have an appetite.

You barely breathed a word to anyone.

It was all so eerily quiet.

The people (ghouls?) you cherished most, gone as soon as you lost sight of that damn tour bus.

It was all catching up to you in a most brutal manner.

You couldn't look at yourself in a mirror and face your haggard appearance. Your dark eye bags, your frame seeming to sag with fatigue, your constant despondent expression. You couldn't seem to get out bed and find the effort to shower or show any kind of self compassion.

It made you sick to your stomach.

You’re crying so hard you miss the click of your bedroom door opening, the sound of a lamp being turned on and the quiet footsteps making their way to stand by your bed.

You jump in surprise when some of your blankets get pulled back to reveal a blinding light and a concerned ghoul.

“Oh, honey…” the sound of Swiss’ empathetic voice and Sodo's worried trill calls you back just a little bit from the hideous places your mind had taken you.

You cry impossibly harder and turn your head away, trying to hide from their disappointment.

The lamp clicks off and you hear some more shuffling around and hushed voices before the weight of two bodies land on the bed near you.

Swiss crawls tentatively into your little cave to lie in front of you, eyeing you with apprehension.

"we're back now, it's okay" he murmurs.

“Can we touch you?” Sodo asks from behind you in the kindest tone you never anticipated, having also made his way into your cocoon.

You let out a hoarse "yes", your voice so soft Sodo and Swiss almost miss it. Almost.

Swiss gently removes the pillow from your firm hold and replaces it with himself, his arms wrap around you pulling you into his chest with utmost care like you were a priceless sculpture.

Sodo settles behind you in a spooning position, running a hand soothingly up and down your thigh in a non sexual manner.

“I'm so sorry. I know I’m selfish. I’m sorry, please..” your voice quavering as you curl in on yourself.

“Please don’t hate me” you sob, starting to visibly shake.

“Baby no… we don’t hate you. What could’ve made you think that? We all absolutely adore you. You’re irreplaceable y/n” Sodo comforts.

“Look at me” Swiss whispers after a minute or so, “please?”, You shake your head, trying to nuzzle further into his chest as a new rush of tears makes you go mute.

Hooking a finger under your chin Swiss slowly tilts your head so you have no choice but to meet his kind hearted gaze.

“We love you. We don’t hate you, neither of us are disappointed in you and you don’t have to be sorry. Nothing you could do could make any of the Ghouls feel anything but immense love for you. I just wish we could’ve been here and helped you before it got so bad. Promise you’ll tell one of the papas if if gets this bad again? They’ll be able to find a way to let us know somehow. It doesn't matter where we are, we'll come running back to you.” Sodo acknowledges Swiss' sweet words with little 'mhms' against your shoulder, making you want to melt.

You nod and let their combined scents fill your lungs, the scents you'd missed so much, having them whisk away all your distasteful thoughts.

“You’re so precious baby” Sodo elaborates, placing delicate kisses on your shoulder, Swiss rubs your side with his thumb in agreement. Their voices so sincerely honest it makes your bottom lip uncontrollably tremble.

Swiss moves his hand from your chin to wipe away the tears on your cheek and place a kiss on your forehead, his touch undeniably soothing.

"knock knock?" Rains soft voice sounds throughout the room, Sodo pokes his head out of the top of the covers and beckons him in.

"You okay to leave the cave? I asked Rain to get some things for you" Swiss whispers against your forehead, waiting for your go-ahead.

You tap his side twice with your finger in an indication it was okay.

Swiss slowly moves the blankets from the top half of your body and lets your eyes adjust to the bright light coming from the doorway which did your head no favours. He moves you so you're resting comfortably against his chest, knowing hearing/feeling someones heart beat and breathing helps soothe you.

You make out an outline of Rain who seems to be handing some items to Sodo before he moves to climb up the bed so he can reach you.

Rain cradles your face with his calloused hands, holding his wrists in your own hands, he places a kiss on your nose. "Just sing out if you need anything alright bubs?" He whispers, looking into your eyes for the confirmation he needed before leaving to help unpack everything from the bus.

You let Sodo then steal your attention.

"Have this", he offers you a big glass of water and some pain relief, you accept both and down the refreshing water quickly with the tablets.

"Their you go" Sodo encourages, taking the now empty glass from you.

"Doing so good honey" Swiss complements, nuzzling your neck.

You all sit in silence for a while until they're sure the tablets have kicked in, giving your hands/thighs/waist reassuring little squeezes.

"How about you go have a bath and I'll get you a really yummy snack?" Swiss asks, running a hand through your hair.

You nervously stare at your fidgeting hands, "don't worry baby, I can stay with you if you'd like" Sodo adds.

You let Sodo and Swiss guide you to stand before Swiss plants a kiss on your temple and leaves the room with a smile that puts your mind at ease.

Sodo scoops you up into his arms and carries you to the bathroom, turning on the bath tap and placing you safely on the counter.

"You want a (your favourite scent) bath bomb pretty lady? Maybe some relaxation salts as well?" He inquires, rummaging through the cupboard.

You nod and gently start kicking your feet in happy anticipation.

Sodo grins at seeing your mood start to lift, he faces away from you and lets you undress as he puts your selected items into the bath water.

Turning away once again to let you get into the bath before facing you when he's sure you're comfortable and covered with bubbles.

"Warm enough?" He questions, your satisfied face saying everything he needs to know.

"I'm going to wash your hair now alright?" He asks, reaching for the shampoo and conditioner.

You lean happily into his touch when he massages your scalp with shampoo, using his claws and heating his hands up a little for your enjoyment.

You let out a long content sigh followed by a grateful hum.

"Their she is" Sodo grins again, making you open an eye and return the smile.

"Thank you so much" you babble, your voice sounding foreign and husky from not being used too much.

"My pleasure baby" Sodo praises, dipping your head halfway into the water to wash out the suds.

----- 30 minutes time skip -----

After Sodo finishes helping you wash yourself, do your skincare, dry your hair and chat about how well tour went for the band, you feel more like yourself than you have in months.

"Ready to go back to bed?" He asks, looking proud he was able to identify some skin care products and get rid of your headache.

"Yeah, I'm ready for sleep" you confess, letting Sodo lead you back to your room.

You gasp when you walk into your room to find everything clean, dirty laundry that was once strewn around the room removed, fresh sheets on the bed, food and water at the ready on your bedside table, curtains open to catch the last rays of the sun and most importantly, four lovely ghouls waiting for cuddles on said bed.

"Surprise!" Aether, Mountain, Rain and Swiss yell, beaming to see your face light up.

"This is gonna be the best cuddle pile yet" Mountain rejoices, pulling you onto him. "Give me my baby" Aether beams, placing sloppy kisses all over your face. "My turn now!" Rain complains, pulling you closer to him, "what about me?" Swiss whines, "you had her all afternoon! especially Sodo", "so what!?"

You laugh as you get smushed into the middle of them all, purrs kicking up around you as kisses are placed on any bare skin available.

They watch (your favourite movie) while you eat and start feeling sleepy, settling in for the night.

You end up falling asleep before anyone else, 'I love you's' chimed in around you. You vaguely remember Copia kissing your cheek and murmuring a sweet comment in Italian before patting your head.

Minutes after Copia leaves, the Ghoulettes arrive. They force their way through the boys to have direct contact with you, joining in with the symphony of content mewls, trills and purrs.

Do not copy, translate, transfer (plagiarise) or take ‘inspiration’ from any of my fics.

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pearlprincess02 · 3 months

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scorpio sun, pisces moon, sagittarius rising, scorpio mercury, sagittarius venus

scorpio sun: is a night fixed water sign. a deep and complex sign, both its symbol and its glyph represent the scorpion, its stinger suggesting the potentially stinging nature of scorpio. scorpio represents transformation, depth, emotions, intensity, passion. also represent phoenix, a symbol of rebirth. scorpio is seen as magnetic, powerful, private and sometimes intimidating to others. scorpio is a sign that wants to see through the soul of a person, wants to see and understand the dark sides of a person. scorpio will always want to see the ugly side of a person. scorpio is a sign that is quite individual and likes to focus on a single person. what is also known about scorpio is that it gives each person a different kind of love. scorpio is a sign that has difficulty trusting and has trust issues, as it often feels that people will betray it. therefore, scorpios usually have a small circle of people and only those they really trust. scorpio can also be possessive, jealous and wants to have you all to himself. when a scorpio loves, he loves with all his heart. scorpio will give you his soul and heart. scoprio will sacrifice a lot for the people he loves. but if you betray his love, he will never forgive you. scorpio is also a sign that takes a long time to let go of a person and get over them.

pisces moon: you are too giving, humanitarian, charitable, selfless or not enough. you might take care or help out every close friend, acquaintances or stranger, but NOT your own family members, loved ones or your partner. so try to put that in check. you might be undereating or eat foods that don't nourish your body. again, substance overuse can be present in subtle ways, such as drinking too much coffee in the day.

sagittarius rising: ok legsss fr tho they have stallion legs, also likes the finer things in life and will probably get them because they’re lucky in life and blessed, really funny placement and someone you want to have around all the time to do fun shit with, carefree for the most part but they have certain triggers that they’ll cause a fit over, usually hates commitment (depending on other aspects and planets) because they don’t want to be tied down or have a loss of freedom

scorpio mercury: your thinking is above all intense, deep (you always delve into things and evaluate them from all possible angles). a lot of times you think like the fbi - you investigate all possible things and you want to get to the bottom of the truth. your thinking is never without meaning or control. you are always in control of what is happening. and everything you say is very well thought out, you usually choose with what words you say something and in what way. many times your thinking is a secret, which means that people never find out what you are thinking and that they can often judge you as a person who is a secretive. you read other people very well. also u have very sharp mind.

sagittarius venus: sagittarius venus’s approach love in a playful and fun manner. this is why they prefer their partners to be witty and humorous. they’re optimistic and joyful in love. due to that 9th house energy, sagittarius venus individuals usually fall for those from different cultures and backgrounds. they’re incredibly open minded and prefer dating someone different to them in a way. however, they do get the stereotype that they’re “noncommittal”. this stems from the fact that they value their independence and can get restless if their relationship feels stagnant. they seek a partner who they can experience adventures with and grow together spiritually. above all, they value their freedom and independence so they need a partner who is willing to accommodate that.

(@chaoticlyfzz)

ᵒᵇˢᵉʳᵛᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ

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rowanwithaz · 4 months

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The Doubt Of Izuku's Feelings

If you think Katsuki's romantic feelings may be more apparent than Izuku's...

I kinda understand.

Izuku could love Katsuki,just not romantically.

But,here's the thing,we have seen time,and time,and time again that the feelings Izuku feels for Katsuki are different from the ones he feels for Katsuki. I have no doubt in my mind that if Katsuki's romantic feelings are cannon,then so are Izuku's.

"Kacchan and the others"

Izuku OBVIOUSLY sees Katsuki differently than he does the rest of his class,sure we could sum it up to them being childhood friends,BUT,even though Izuku gets extremely close with the rest of his class,he still separates them like that.

(This whole scene is gay as hell).

But,I'd like to bring up something interesting:

We established Ochako's crush on Izuku before this happened. (Y'know,when Ayoama said she was in love?) I think it's interesting that's a very common pattern. We'll say something Ochako does/feels for Izuku is romantic then Izuku will do the SAME DAMN THING for Katsuki .

After he got closer with everyone else:

It's still the SAME. Kacchan and the others. So,we established Izuku was Katsuki,and from one of the last times we saw him kinda think,still sees Katsuki differently.

Let's not forget my favorite:

Compress's gaydar!

Izuku's feelings are called out for being possessive,a feeling we still haven't seen Izuku feel for any other of his friends,speaking of,

Even thought most of Izuku's friends are okay,even though they had managed to prevent Tokayami from being kidnapped,he still sees it as a complete loss because of his different feelings for Katsuki,which even Kirishima notices!

So,yes,Izuku's feelings are different,they aren't like the ones he has for his other friends,we have yet to say what these feelings are..or have we? We'll check in with that soon!

Black Whip

When Izuku gets Black Whip,we all know it has to do with Kacchan on some level. But,how do we know this is the case? How do we know Katsuki is the one triggering Black Whi-

Oh,yeah,it was said directly in the manga. (I'll talk about this scene in another section).

BUT,Black Whip is all about Izuku keeping his emotions in check,controlling his heart,I've said it before,and I'll say it again:

Black Whip is the result of negative feelings,caused by strong/positive emotions. Seeing someone you care about so MUCH,get hurt can make you get mad. Yes,Izuku obviously cares about everyone,and he gets upset when they get hurt too,but as I stated previously: we've already established within the manga Izuku feels differently about Katsuki,so it makes sense his anger would be more intense/different since that's how he feels.

Black Whip is about keeping your negative emotions in check,

SO,why does Izuku control his heart,and what does it have to do with Katsuki? Well,Black Whip kinda seems like a metaphor for being closeted,but here's the thing:

If you're like me,you think Izuku struggles with internalized homophobia,and,here's something kinda sad,since the feelings he feels for Katsuki are so tied to Black Whip,he views his feelings for Katsuki negatively,that's why Izuku is so hell bent on "controlling his heart," since he sees the way he feels about Katsuki like this. It also doesn't help that his feelings only seem to hurt Katsuki.

Izuku doesn't want to hurt the person people he loves (I'm foreshadowing in my own damn post,deal with it) with his negative emotions,and since his biggest feeling seems to only bring negativity,he should control his heart.

Toga's rejection

Here's something extremely important when considering Izuku's feelings:

When and how he rejected Toga.

In the rejection; he brings up the fact,

He understands,wanting to be like someone can be fulfilling,it is to Izuku too (which no one brings up?) but he could never hurt someone he loves. And here it is,guys. Izuku literally says he loves "All Might" in this romantic context,but here's the thing,we already know Izuku feels closer to someone than All Might,we already know Izuku has been chasing after and trying to be like someone.

It's Katsuki. How do we know if it really is him? Clues! First,

I've seen people say the narration probably isn't by Katsuki,but we all have already seen "That damned nerd" as something Katsuki would say. So,even if it isn't Katsuki (which I think it is!) We already get the impression "oh,yeah,Katsuki."

Also think that little coincidence is telling. ALSO. Those who are worried about Hori doing an Izuchako endgame,Izuku rejecting Toga's feelings is the same as him rejecting Ochako's. Since we've established the way Toga and Ochako feel about Izuku is very similar.

Targeting

The villains quite literally target Izuku because of his feelings for Katsuki (this kind of goes with the first section) but why doesn't he directly target anyone else with the same mindset?

Because of what Izuku feels for Katsuki is so much different than everyone else.

And Monoma! He targets Katsuki to get a rise out of Izuku when he realizes that making fun of,or threatening Izuku's group doesn't work.

Then, of course,when we have this scene,it honestly clears the air.

When he says Katsuki will be a "present" for Izuku ,well,what does Shiggy say to Izuku when he sees him?

How do we know it's romantic? Well,the last chapter we saw Izuku in was all about 'romance ',isn't it odd it turned out like that? A love confession,then this. Just interesting timing....

And those are just the basics! If you feel like Izuku's feelings may not be romantic,I think it's important to note we have Izuku do the same things Horikoshi has established as romantic to Katsuki. I mean,when Izuku doesn't finish his thinking when it's about Black Whip or Katsuki? That's very similar to how Ochako was with Izuku. Which,yes,guys,Izuchako is very important for GreeNade and Togachako's development. I'll probably make a whole post about my thoughts on that sooner or later.

Anyways,this has gotten to long.

#Dkbk #Bkdk #GreeNade #dekucchan #mha #Bnha #midoryia izuku #This kinda got away from me #Deku #I've not made a post solely on Izuku #In a long time

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mochamamii · 6 months

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yandere!nct: you try to unalive yourself.

▹ a/n: hello loves, I can’t remember if I’ve written something like this before but I wanted write something a little darker today but soon I will force myself to write some fluff I promise lol.

▹ pairing: yandere!nct x reader

▹ triggers: self-harm, readers attempts to unalive themselves, kidnapping, forced relationships

▹ warning!: I can’t stress enough how triggering this might be, I get descriptive at certain parts and I strongly urge you to consider whether this is something you want to read, this is dark and not my normal writing. please prioritize your own well-being and do not read this if it will influence you in anyway, I have lots of other lighter reads 💕

Taeil won’t let it get this far. Taeil loves you deeply and wants only the best for you no matter how demented it appears to others. He dotes on, and nurtures you like his life depends on it, carefully crafting your meals and your routine to keep your mind and body healthy. If something like this were about to happen, he would be able to foresee your declining mental state and hopefully prevent any attempts. Taeil would do everything in his power to keep you safe and he’d do his best to make you as comfortable as possible. He’d even consider letting you go if it meant saving your life.

“How could you do this to yourself? Don’t I take care of you well?”

Johnny is always calm and collected, even when he’s pissed off, a stranger wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, he always keeps the same mask on, never giving you any idea of what he’s thinking inside his head. Until now that is…He comes home to find you on the bathroom floor. At first he thought you must’ve slipped, hitting your head and knocking yourself out in the process, not that it had been done intentionally. Johnny is at a loss of what to do, it’s one of the few times he’s not sure what to say or do to fix this. He usually has a witty comeback to lighten the mood but he knows now isn’t the time. He helps fix you up, cleans the wound on your head, and tucks you in bed. Anytime you part your lips to speak he’ll shush you. The two of you will probably sit in silence for a while until he can figure out how to address this.

“It’s okay, shhh…Just rest, save your energy. We’ll talk about it later.”

Taeyong is an angry mix of emotions. He’s known for at least a week now that you somehow managed to obtain poison. He theorized that you must’ve used cleaning supplies to mix a cocktail of chemicals, he found you hiding your stash under the bathroom sink. He assumed your plan was to use it on him, simply out of curiousity and amusement he wanted to see if you were actually capable of trying to kill him so he didn’t address it. He wanted to see how far you’d go to leave him. He waited and waited, but he never noticed anything different. He already had cameras installed in your shared apartment to watch you while he was away, he hoped to find you tampering with his food in a botched attempt to poison him. But still, nothing ever came of it. Until suddenly, you were the one who fell sick. His worry turned to anger as he arrived home one night to find you on the floor of the bathroom, the mixture of poison lying next to you.

“Are you insane? What were you trying to do, kill yourself? Do you think that will work, because I promise you, nothing…not even life itself will keep me from you. Don’t ever do something stupid like this again.”

Yuta feels remorse. It’s one of the few and probably only times Yuta will ever feel this way. Out of everyone, Yuta is one of the most intense and dangerous yandere’s, but he still loves you in his own twisted way. He likes to push your buttons and torture you a little but he’d never kill you…probably. For Yuta, part of the fun is seeing how badly you want to live, how badly you want for him to release you and return to your old life. When he arrives home to find you on the floor, a dark crimson pool of blood surrounding you he panics, all the color draining from his face as he sees your barely conscious body. He’ll clean you up, bandaging your wounds, he’ll monitor you for a few days wondering if he should take you to a hospital. In those few days as he waits to see if your condition worsens he’ll be super gentle, much more gentle with you than he’s ever been. His hands will run over all the old scarred skin where he’s cut you in different places before, a deep pang in his chest screaming at him for doing that to you. He’ll be soft with you, but he can’t help but still poke fun at you in an attempt to get you to talk to him.

“Hey, couldn’t you wait for me? At least I know when to stop, clearly you’re still an amateur…You could’ve really hurt yourself. What would I do then, huh?”

Doyoung is angry. At you, but mostly himself. He likes to believe that he knows you better than you know yourself. To come home and find you in the middle of attempting to harm yourself he will realize just how little he truly knows about you and your condition. Initially the only emotion he can really process is anger, the thought of coming home a second too late and losing you enraged him. Even while angry, he was solid as rock, never giving you much of a clue about what he was thinking. He will carefully nurse you back to health, never leaving your side not even for a second. Once you begin to recover he will experience heartbreak and grief over what could’ve happened. Doyoung won’t address the incident much and will from then on refer to it as the ‘incident’ he wants to pretend that it never happened. He’s a stubborn man and his behavior towards you might not change much, if anything he gives you less freedom, afraid to let you leave his side.

“Never do that again. Hate me. Hate me all you want to, but never do that again. Please.”

Jungwoo is distraught after finding you in such a state. He’s in disbelief and this is a rare occasion in which he is truly afraid. Afraid of what could’ve happened to you and what might happen again in the future if he’s not careful. It flips a switch in him and forces him to realize something that he cannot shake. That he might not just need to protect you from the world but from your own self too. He becomes distrustful of you, scared and afraid that you might try to hurt yourself again. There’s no amount of convincing or promises in the world that will put his mind at ease. This fear will drive him to act irrationally, he’s not above strapping you to a bed all day while he’s gone if it means keeping you safe. In his mind you forced him to take these measures to keep you safe.

“You know why I have to keep you locked up like this don’t you baby? I can’t risk you doing something like that again, what would I do without you?”

Mark is shocked. He never expected it, he doesn’t necessarily make your mental health a priority for him. He knows you probably hate him and that you’d do nearly anything to get away from him. He just never thought unaliving yourself would be on the table for you. In fact, he probably expected you to try and kill him before you ever tried to hurt yourself. He will feel shameful and for the first time a little guilty about taking you. I don’t see him ever letting you go but he might be willing to talk and see what changes can be made to make you more ‘comfortable’ in your new life.

“Don’t punish yourself for the decision I made. If you wanted to kill someone it should’ve been me. Not you, never you.”

Haechan’s response might come off as cold and heartless. That’s only half true. Initially he might try and make himself believe that it wasn’t you who did it to yourself but that an intruder broke in and attacked you. When he realizes what you tried to do he knows that nothing he will say will comfort you or inspire you to never do it again. You hate him, so much that you’d rather die than be stuck with him another second. What could he possibly say to change your mind? His approach is a little brazen and risky but he wants to test your will to live. How badly did you truly want to be free of him? He used the only thing he knows for sure works in keeping you in check. Fear. Your fear of him and what he might do.

“What? It’s okay for you to go around taking lives but I can’t?” He asks with a quizzical expression as he holds a knife to your former friend’s throat, his icy eyes piercing into yours.

#nct yandere #yandere nct #yandere kpop #lee taeyong #kpop yandere #kim jungwoo #lee haechan #kim doyoung #johnny seo #mark lee #yuta nakamoto #nakamoto yuta #nct reactions

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transmutationisms · 9 months

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i have a handful of anonymous asks in my inbox right now asking about harm reduction as applied to eating disorders that their loved ones are experiencing. i'm not answering these individually, both because it would get repetitive and because i don't know your loved ones and can't give them personal advice, but i did want to say a few general things on this topic.

the basic principles of harm reduction are the same in regards to EDs as anything else. the point here is not to force a person to stop doing something dangerous (this is impossible) or even to pressure them to stop (this also doesn't work, and will often have the effect of making you into a person they don't feel safe around and can't turn to for help, thus actually decreasing their access to support and resources). instead, the goal of harm reduction generally is to give people the knowledge and resources they need to engage in risky behaviours as safely as possible. the reasons people do things that are physically or socially harmful to them vary, obviously, but in general these behaviours are serving some purpose in the person's life, like providing emotional 'blunting' they need to deal with otherwise intolerable circumstances, or meeting a physical need for specific substances. harm reduction meets people where they are, beginning with the premise that they deserve basic respect, dignity, and self-determination, whether or not they continue to engage in behaviours that may be endangering them.

some baseline harm reduction strategies for EDs could include:

take necessary safety precautions if (over)exercise is a feature of the disorder, or if you are at risk for fainting; ideally, have someone around (or reachable by phone) who can help in case of injury

do your best to compensate for any micronutrient deficiencies resulting from food restriction; dietary supplementation may be necessary

know if any substances/pharmaceuticals you may use (recreationally or not) can affect you more strongly, faster, or more dangerously on an empty stomach; here, harm reduction for EDs will overlap with harm reduction for drug use

know the signs of electrolyte imbalance and resultant cardiac events, particularly in EDs involving purging by laxative use or self-induced vomiting; keep a stockpile of items like sports drinks/gels that can rapidly replenish electrolytes; know where to seek emergency medical treatment and how to recognise when it may be vitally necessary

monitor long-term health risks, like bone density loss, tooth enamel damage, hyperglycaemia (in cases of diabulimia), &c. note that both this step and the above require finding medical practitioners who will treat patients non-judgmentally and without threat of institutionalisation

....and so forth.

harm reduction plans are highly individualised: they depend on the person's own goals and desires. a harm reduction plan might include strategies for engaging in ED behaviours less frequently or intensely, and may even include a long-term goal of recovery. however, harm reduction has not 'failed' if the person doesn't want to, or can't, reduce frequency or severity of behaviours right now or ever. ED harm reduction that does include goals for reducing behaviours, without necessarily trying to eliminate them entirely, might include strategies like:

purge less frequently; avoid or reduce flushing and chew/spit

reduce food restriction by raising calorie limits, not counting calories at all, eating certain 'fear foods', &c

identify triggers for restriction, binging/purging, &c; try to avoid those triggers (& possibly enlist assistance doing this)

ask someone trusted to eat with you if this would help you, for example, become more comfortable with eating non-restrictively, and turn eating into a social connection rather than a stressful event

consume a sufficient amount of food regularly and consistently <- this is the bedrock of all recovery work

again, though, the particular strategies in a person's harm reduction plan will depend on what they want to implement and are capable of doing right now. a person who's not ready for any step that asks them to engage in fewer behaviours, or to engage in behaviours less frequently, can still benefit from a harm reduction approach if they're interested. this is a conversation that should always be approached non-judgmentally and with the understanding that any harm reduction plan depends on the person's own capacities and goals. harm reduction is not about telling someone else what would be 'best' for them in an 'ideal' world. it's about meeting them where they are right now.

something important to note about EDs is that efforts to restrict food and food groups and to shrink body size are considered extremely common and 'normal' in much of the contemporary popular culture, and are frequently encouraged and prescribed by medical practitioners. this means that even when you are worried about someone with a self-endangering ED, there is often a considerable risk that, in trying to help them, you might still be promoting or acceding to the same fatphobic logic that can fuel the ED. if you, for instance, think that pursuing intentional weight loss is generally benign or healthy; if you have ideas about what size a person's body 'should' be based on things like actuarial charts; if you think that some foods are universally 'bad' and need to be restricted or eliminated; if you think that food should be 'earned' or compensated for by physical activity—stop, do not pass go, and do not try to dispense any kind of advice, harm reduction or otherwise, to someone struggling with an ED. you are not capable of being a resource here unless and until you are committed to a politics of fat liberation, disability rights, mad liberation, and anti-racism. you are not reducing harm if you are contributing to further entrenching the cultural beliefs and economic mechanisms of fatphobia and body fascism that the ED itself thrives on.

(**i am not saying that all EDs start or end with the desire to be thin as articulated through white supremacist body ideals, but it is a very common feature at this moment in history, and having these ideas reinforced, including through the lens of medical fatphobia, can certainly contribute to or worsen already-present behaviours and thought patterns where EDs are concerned.)

harm reduction also means giving a person the knowledge they need to evaluate their own goals and needs. in regards to EDs specifically, lots of public health communication is confounded by industry-funded diet and 'obesity' research that prescribes food restriction, compensatory exercise, and other recognisably 'eating disordered' behaviours, especially to fat people. many people with EDs, and their loved ones, may not even realise how many misconceptions they have learned about body size, nutrition, and the health risks of EDs. some basic places to start learning about these things from a weight-neutral / fat-liberationist angle that i would suggest include: christy harrison's podcast 'food psych' (her book is also decent but treads a lot of the same ground); gwyneth olwyn's work; lindo bacon and lucy aphramor's papers on 'health at every size'; jennifer gaudiani's book 'sick enough', which is a good starter resource on the medical effects of EDs. note that none of these resources are working within an explicitly harm reductionist framework, and imo make some missteps in this arena! but they still contain insights and information that can be useful to those who are interested in harm reduction, and to those with EDs generally.

harm reduction can be a tool to recovery, or a step on that road; it can also be an alternative for people who are not ready to seek recovery, and who may never be ready. the reality is that you cannot force someone to stop engaging in behaviours they rely on to live, whether drug use, EDs, or anything else. harm reduction proceeds from this place and from a fundamental commitment to respect for people who are generally already suffering. when approaching a loved one, you may or may not be able to initiate a conversation in which you express, eg, that you are worried about them hurting themselves, and would like to offer whatever emotional or material resources you can to help. but you have to go into any such interaction understanding that they may very well already know all of the risks of what they're doing, and may have other reasons they can't or don't want to stop. if you're trying to impose your will on them---by force, pressure, or coercion---you're not doing harm reduction, and you're most likely alienating them and turning yourself into a person they don't feel safe around where these behaviours are concerned.

#harm reduction #eating disorders

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blooming-violets · 14 days

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Can I add on to the Suicidal Peter thing? I feel like that would cause so much stress for reader? Like her hair would be going gray and maybe she faints from exhaustion because she's staying up all night making sure Peter wouldn't try to off himself again? Would he notice that she's extra clingy because she's that nervous of him being alone with his thoughts and whatnot? Maybe she wouldn't tell him because she doesn't want him to feel any more guilt that he already has? Sorry if that was alot, just thinking about how that would be for his girlfriend

Trigger Warnings: This is all about suicidal ideation, self harm, and losing yourself to take care of someone who is suicidal. Includes panic attacks, severe weight loss from lack of eating due to anxiety, mentions of blood and cutting, attempted suicide on top of a building. It's a suicide/depression/self harm/broken lovers fic. Be careful if those topics are difficult for you<3

Reminder: This is a depiction of an extremely toxic relationship. It is not cute or healthy or something to strive for. Just, like, as an fyi. Don't do it. Stop. Not healthy. No. Not even for Peter Parker. Don't do it. Stop it right now. Never get on a ledge for a man wtf are you doing.

I think she would be in a state of constant hyper vigilance and high anxiety. He would take over all her thoughts until she can't function anymore. Never eating. Not able to work. Doesn't even want to take a shower because she's afraid of having him out of her sight. Not wanting to sleep.

God forbid she wakes up in middle of the night and he's not in bed, she'd be thrown straight into a panic attack. There's been times when he's woken up to go to the bathroom and returned back to find her hyperventilating on the floor.

Peter dried his wet hands on his boxers as he turned off the sink. His eyes were squinted closed, still half asleep, and he shuffled out of the bathroom. He had no idea what time it was and he didn't care to turn on any bright lights to find the clock. He rubbed his fingers through his shaggy hair and let out a quiet yawn, fumbling with their bedroom door handle to push himself back inside.

A dull flurry of tingles ran up his spine as his hand grasped the knob.

Spider-senses. They weren't super intense or threatening but they let him know that someone was crouched behind the door. He knew it was her and not a threat. His senses always felt dulled down when she was around. His ears perked up to listen to her quiet, muffled sobs.

Peter frowned and gently opened the door so not to accidentally hit her with it.

She was curled up against the wall. Her eyes were wild, the whites flashing back and forth as they scanned the dark room. Tears spilled silently down her face and her body racked with heavy pants. Her teeth bit down on the sleeve of her shirt to keep her cries muffled.

"Baby, what happened?" He asked, quickly kneeling down in front of her. Five minutes ago she was sound asleep beside him.

He scanned her for any external injuries but came up with nothing. He placed his hands against each of her cheeks to get her to look at him. His thumbs brushed the tears from under her eyes.

"You-" she gasped, eyes wide, like she was forcing them to focus on him. "You...you...here...you're here."

Peter nodded. A weight of guilt dropped in his stomach as he realized what she was implying.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I'm here. I'm always here. Just went to the bathroom. 's okay. Are you hurt?"

Her chest heaved with each quickened breath but her shoulders stopped shaking the longer she took him in. Her mouthed moved like she was trying speak but no words ever came out. Only more sobs.

He flicked out his wrist to shoot a web against the light switch, tugging it on, so she could see him better.

"See?" He spoke softly, trying to soothe her the best he was able. "Look at me. I'm here."

Fresh tears welled in her eyes and spilled down over his hands. Peter sighed sadly, sliding an arm under her legs and the other behind her back to scoop her up into his arms. He carried her back to the bed. She cradled into his lap and he pressed the side of her ear against his chest so she could hear his heart. He was alive. There was physical proof she could hear.

"I'm here," he continued to reassure her. "I'm not going anywhere."

They both doubted that statement but neither of them dared to challenge it.

He slipped his hand under her shirt to gently scratch her back, humming softly against the side of her head.

Slowly, her breathing regulated. He felt her body melt against him. Her eyes closed.

"Are you okay?" He whispered.

She gave a soft nod, mumbling as sleep started to grip her once more, "Nightmare. Nothin' to worry 'bout."

He wrapped his arms tighter around her, feeling her drift off, and knew the nightmare she was talking about wasn't one that happened during sleep.

Some days are better than others. Some days he seems almost normal and she finds herself able to breathe a little easier. But she can never allow herself to fully relax. Relaxing means getting sloppy. Relaxing means she might miss the signs.

The dark circles overtake her eyes. Caking on makeup can only do so much. They still poke through until she eventually just gives up trying to cover them. The whites of her eyes have become a permanent state of bloodshot.

She's losing weight. At first people compliment her for it. They don't know why it's happening. All they see is a loss of weight and think it's purposeful and think they need to praise her for it like it's some great accomplishment. Soon it becomes a clear problem. Food doesn't want to stay down. Her stomach was too filled with anxiety to make room for anything else.

Her friends no longer text her. She never responded anyway. She can't go out. That would be the perfect time for Peter to lose it.

She struggles to keep working. Her job is suffering as a result of her mental state. Too many sick days taken. She's days away from being fired but she doesn't care. All she cares about is Peter. Nothing else matters. Keeping him safe becomes her obsession.

The lack of sleep makes her dizzy.

Peter stared at the television. He couldn't focus on what was playing. His mind was...elsewhere. He dug his nails against the skin of his thumb. It pissed him off that he cut them short earlier in the day. They weren't long enough to scrape against his skin with the force he wanted. He wanted blood. He wanted pain. His nails were giving him nothing but a mild annoyance.

He couldn't get up to find anything sharper when she was curled up beside him. She watched him like a hawk. If he moved, she moved.

His gaze landed on the steak knife thrown against his empty dinner plate still laying out on the coffee table in front of them. Once he caught sight of it, he couldn't see anything else.

He couldn't see that her plate was still full of food beside it, untouched. He couldn't see her eyes glazing out of focus as she stared at the television, equally unable to pay attention to what was in front of her as they "watch" their show. He couldn't see her shaking hands from lack of sleep or proper nutrition. He couldn't see the gauntness to her cheeks or the red tint in her eyes.

All he could see was that knife.

He imagined dragging it across his skin. Slicing it open. Spilling his blood. He imagined cutting it across his palm to mimic the color of Ben's blood on his hands. George's blood. Gwen's blood. He imagined stabbing it into his neck. So fast that she couldn't stop him. In and out. Real quick. Over and done just like that.

"Do you need more water?"

Peter's eyes snapped up to attention as she broke his trance.

"What?" He mumbled.

She nodded to his empty glass of water, "Want me to get you more? You looked like you were staring at it? Thirsty?"

He gave a slow nod, lost in thought. Good. Let her get up. Let her move away. He could grab the knife while she wasn't looking.

She reached for the glass and stood up. He was too focused on the blade to notice how she stopped to sway unsteadily on her feet before walking off to the kitchen.

He heard the glass crash a second before her body hit the floor.

He was up and leaping over the couch a heartbeat after, the knife immediately fading from his mind.

"Babe," he gasped, reaching her in seconds. He gently slapped a hand over her cheek. "Hey! Wake up! Baby, wake up!"

Peter fumbled for the cell phone in his pocket, ready to call an ambulance, when she groaned. He dropped it beside him to tend to her instead.

Her eyes blinked open, hazy and confused, "Wha-"

"It's okay," he breathed through the rising panic. "Try not to move. You fainted. Hit your head."

Oh god, her eyes. Had they always been that sunken in? When did her face start to look so skeletal? He couldn't remember. When had she changed? Was that...

He ran a hand over her hair.

...grey hair?

Sporadic grey strands slipped through his fingers. She looked sickly. She wasn't right.

She lifted an arm to rub her eyes with a muffled moan. A trickle of blood ran down the back of her arm where she had landed on the shattered glass. It painted a trail of red down her skin. His eyes widened at the sight, unable to look away. He tunnel visioned. His sight blackened around the edges as he stared.

Blood. Her blood.

His head twitched. He hurt her. He did this. He made her get up because he wanted that knife. He didn't even more water. He wasn't even thirsty. She was up because of him. She was...broken...fallen...Gwen fell...she broke...he broke them all...dead...all of them...blood...so much blood...always blood...

Her hands were pressed to the side of his head. She was sitting up now. He hadn't even seen her move. Was he-

Crying.

Hot tears streamed down his face. He was sobbing. Gasping. He couldn't remember starting that. Time was slipping through his fingers. He was losing bits and pieces. What year was it? How old was he?

He was sixteen, holding Ben's body.

No, no, no.

Eighteen, Gwen in his arms. Shattered. No.

Twenty...six? eight? Had he turned thirty yet?

Fuck, he couldn't remember.

"It's okay, Peter." She was soothing him. "It's okay. I'm fine. I'm okay. Breathe, Pete. Deep breaths. Stay with me."

He was supposed to be the one taking care of her. What was he doing? What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he stop crying?

She was running her fingers through his hair, pressing her forehead against his, kissing away his tears.

He clung to the front of her shirt, tugging her closer, he couldn't get her close enough. He needed to feel her. He needed to breathe her in, touch her, fuse her through his skin until she melted straight into him forever.

She wasn't dead. It was just a cut. A cut.

She clutched onto his head, pressing his face against her breasts, holding him close. This was the wrong way around. He should be holding her. He was failing. Nothing was working right. Everything was backwards. Everything was wrong. He didn't remember who he was anymore.

"I got you, Peter. I'm okay. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

She cupped his jaw in her palms to lift his head to hers. She placed soft kisses against his lips. It made his head spin. He wanted her closer but he was afraid if he reached for her, she would crumble away into a fading memory like the rest of them.

As she kissed him, his hand reached out besides him instead, fingers finding a shard of glass and silently slipping into his pocket.

For later.

Just in case.

Peter's stopped being Spider-Man because she asked him to. She's afraid to have him out of her sight. Spider-Man is too dangerous for someone who's suicidal. He can't be trusted. She struggles to breathe when he's not around.

They spend most of their time on the couch "watching" tv. She makes him shower with her. She stays up to watch him sleep, now. When she does doze off, any small movement or sound will jerk her straight awake. Her eyes only ever look for him. She can't see anything else.

At what point does she become an enabler to his behavior? There's being a caregiver and then there's letting someone ruin your life. He's not getting external help because he has her. They're eating each other alive. Sucking the life out of each other. Soon, there will be nothing left to leach off of.

By continuing down this path, it's only a matter of time before she hit rock bottom beside him.

I think that might be the only thing that pushes Peter out of the hole. Because he loves her. He's broken and depressed and a neglectful boyfriend but he does love her. Either they both end up dead or they end up alive. There's only two options here with them because neither of them will ever leave the other. Drag each other down straight to death or lift each other to something brighter.

It had been about an hour since he last saw her. That was unusual. The past five months, she had been his shadow. Attached at his hip. Never out of his sight for more than a minute or two. He dragged himself off the floor where he had been laying. He had bent down to reach for the remote that had fallen off the couch and ended up on the floor without the willpower to get back up. He had just laid there, staring up at the ceiling, letting time pass.

Except too much time had passed because she wasn't here.

Peter sat up, feeling a bit dizzy from the change of pressure in his head, and called out her name. When she didn't answer, he called her again, louder this time. Still nothing.

That worried him.

He jumped to his feet and focused his hearing to listen for her. She wasn't in the apartment. He didn't have to search. He just knew.

His heart began racing. His skin was exploding in tingles. Goosebumps. Anxiety swirled in his stomach. Colors intensified. His hearing dialed up to its full extent. His senses kicked into overdrive.

Trouble.

He hadn't felt his Spider-senses in months. They overwhelmed him and caused him to stumble back against the couch. He had gone so long without feeling anything. Suddenly, there was everything.

He gave a few rapid blinked, trying to focus his eyes and gain back control of his body.

He had to find her.

Peter stumbled out their apartment door, barefoot and sweating profusely, looking wildly up and down the empty hall. He yelled out her name once more. He knew she wouldn't answer but it burst out of him with a longing desperation anyway. He hadn't been away from her for this long in months. He couldn't breathe.

When had she left? Why hadn't he heard her open the door? How far gone had he let himself get that he wouldn't notice her walking out?

He forced his breath to steady as he paused, taking a deep breath, and letting those familiar senses work like they used to.

The roof.

He had to get to the roof.

She was up there. If anyone ever tried to ask how he knew, he wouldn't be able to tell them. He just knew. That's how his senses worked. They told his body where to move and how fast to go and where to be. They told him of danger.

And they were telling him that needed to be on the roof as fast as he could move.

Peter took the stairs two at a time, leaping over railings, and throwing himself up the three flights until he burst through the roof door.

It was snowing outside. When had it become winter? How long had it been since he looked out a fucking window?

His bare feet slipped on a patch of ice but he quickly righted the fall and lunged forward.

She was here. Standing on the raised edge of the building roof. Her hair whipped around her head from the freezing wind. She was in her slippers and pajamas. He hadn't even remembered what she had been wearing until this moment. It was like she had become invisible to him. Always there, always needed, but never truly seen.

He saw her now.

She had gotten so skinny. Almost skeletal. Her body stood on unsteady legs, the wind thrashing her around like she was nothing, and his heart leapt into his throat.

Instinctively, he arm shot out to shoot a web at her back, but nothing came. He had taken off the damn web shooters forever ago. They were lost on some dust filled, cluttered dresser under a pile of clothes. Somewhere completely useless to him.

He shouted her name, pain laced heavily in his voice, running towards her. If she fell before he could catch her, he would throw himself straight off this roof after her.

She turned to look at him.

Jesus, she looked like an entirely different person. Her eyes were dead. Her body might still be hanging on but the life inside of her was gone.

"Dont!" He a broken scream ripped from his throat. "Don't you fucking dare!"

She took a step back, her slipper sliding against the ice, heels hovering over the edge.

"I can't," she whispered, voice getting lost in the howling wind.

Maybe it wasn't the wind. Maybe his own horrified cries.

"I can't do it anymore." She took another shuffled inch back and teetered dangerously on the edge. "I'm sorry."

He reached her the second she stepped off. His hand latched onto her wrist at the last possible moment before it disappeared from view. The weight of her falling body lurched him foreword and he braced himself against the ledge, sticking his feet to the frozen ground as an anchor. He reached his other hand over to scrunch up the front of her shirt, using both her arm and shirt to drag her back up to him.

She didn't fight him. Didn't move. Didn't react.

He dragged her limp body over the hump of the ledge wall and tumbled her into his arms. He fell to the ground, collecting her in his lap, clinging her protectively against him in an iron clad death grip. He chest was heaving. Tears spilled hot down his red, windswept cheeks and blurred his vision. He was struggling to breath. He couldn't catch his breath.

Everything was her. All he could feel. All he could see. He held her close, frantically running his hands over her body, over her face, feeling her, making sure she was really here. It was her. She was here. In his arms. She was alive. She was breathing.

She looked so defeated. Broken. Gone.

"Why?" His voice cracked. "How could you-how-"

Why not?

He had.

She had learned from the best.

It hit him all at once. Clarity. Realization. Everything fell into place the second she stepped off that ledge.

His entire life flashed before his eyes when she fell.

This life they were living...this life was not sustainable. It was his fault.

He had brought them here. He dug the hole and led her straight down to the bottom after him because he was afraid of being alone. He brought her down to his level because he was selfish. Needy. Weak. Afraid. She didn't belong here. He didn't either. If he had his web shooters on like he always used to, he would have reached her before she even knew he was there. He had given up everything in his life. Family, friends, Spider-Man, her.

He given up on everything and almost lost it all.

He had dug this hole for them.

Only he could help them out.

a/n: HI! Of course you can add to it! It makes me so happy that anyone gives a shit to actually contribute and join in on the story telling. I am just very slow at replying sometimes, esp during the days that I work, but I will always get there!

I dipped a toe into exploring the role of caregiver in Nicest Thing too and what it can potentially do to a person. Because I think it can really eat someone alive to be on constant high alert until there is nothing left of them except a shell of who they once were. At some point, you're going to have to chose between losing yourself or potentially losing Peter. He has to be the one to help himself. No one can force someone to get help, they have to make that choice themselves, which is the sad reality of loving someone who's going through shit. And I say that as someone who gone through a lot of shit in their life and had to have people put my ass on suicide watch. Being a caregiver of someone suicidal is a lot of thankless, hard work. If someone doesn't want help, they'll find ways to weasel around everything you to hit them with, until they're ready to do it themselves. So, keep yourself sane and healthy.

I'd like to think that after this, he helps them both. He helps her by getting better himself. Since she followed him into the hole, I think she would follow him out. Slowly. But seeing him put in the effort would give her the strength to do it herself.

Go listen to Don't Try Suicide by Queen and don't fucking kill yourself, okay? Great? Great! xoxo Katie

#andrew garfield #tasm #the amazing spiderman #peter parker #tasm peter parker #tasm peter #tasm x reader #tasm fic #tasm angst #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker angst #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter fic #tasm peter angst #tasm peter parker x reader

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pinkaditty · 8 months

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Idia Shroud Thoughts (Twisted Wonderland)

summary: a small collection of thoughts about Idia Shroud to cure my endless brainrot. some nsfw, some sfw. either way, 18+.

a/n: okok i promise I AM WORKING ON THE OBEY ME PERV THING ok i am i swear i promise <3. I just recently started playing Twisted Wonderland again after having uninstalled it like, a year or so ago and i immediately reentered my Idia Shroud brainrot bc he's my fav! more for the other of age characters will be coming soon. silent readers won't be blocked but psa that i do love it when you leave comments, likes, and asks!

PLEASE NOTE THAT I WILL NOT WRITE ANYTHING 18+ FOR CHARACTERS THAT ARE CANONICALLY UNDER 18, AND THAT INCLUDES THE CHARACTERS IN TWST, EVEN IF THEY ARE IN COLLEGE. I WILL NOT AGE THEM UP FOR SEXUALIZATION PURPOSES EITHER. IT MAKES ME UNCOMFORTABLE. PLEASE RESPECT MY BOUNDARY. thank you! :)

cw: uwaaa as per usual! some smut implication, gn!reader though mention of underwear is present, sub!idia, annnnd i think that's it. please lmk if i missed anything triggering!

also as per usual! MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI. DNI DNI DNI!!! PLEASE RESPECT MY BOUNDARY. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

Idia Shroud who is...

Idia Shroud who is nervous.

He wasn’t the one to first approach. He was perfectly fine with watching you from afar, daydreams of you placating his intense yearning, and fantasies of you fueling his wet dreams and satisfying his libido. He was fine just being a background character until you grew closer. His nerves ate him alive whenever you approached, and he almost resorted to his old habit of talking through a tablet. But he managed, and you became friends. Every time you were close, he knew it would never be enough. Even when you got close enough to give the occasional hug or playfully punch him in the shoulder after a crushing video game loss, he knew these touches would only make it worse. But he couldn’t stop. He wanted to milk you dry of all the affection you were willing to give him, because it made him thrive, and only made his pining worse. Helping you with classwork, showing you his favorite video games, and inviting you over to do nothing together… It got worse and worse and worse for him until he was at rock bottom, believing his degeneracy could not get any worse. The dreams, the pretending, the yearning… It had taken its toll. Until you confessed.

Idia Shroud who is possessive.

Not too possessive, but enough. His insecurities fuel his possessiveness, especially when he sees you talking to popular heartthrob Leona or sly tease Trey. His jealousy rises quickly and he can feel the roots of his hair blaze, turning orange before quickly fading back to blue. He cannot afford to lose his temper. It is times like these when he starts thinking about how you deserve someone better than a shut in, but he cannot bring himself to not cling to you. He simply must. Demonstrate that you love and want him and he’ll be happy. He cannot say that the occasional haunting thought of keeping you all to himself is not attractive, though.

Idia Shroud who is inexperienced.

He’d had the occasional kindergarten or juvenile “relationship”, in which all it took to get a partner was sharing your snacks and offering a flower during recess. He was more innocent then, and less of a recluse. But over the years, he only found more and more reasons to shut himself in, and continued to find them until he didn’t need excuses anymore. The most he’s ever done is hold hands and hug, but even that was with family or when he was five years old.

When you so much as lean on his shoulder he short circuits and stiffens, unsure of what he should do. When you grab his hand he freezes in place, wide eyed like a deer in headlights. When you kiss his cheek he jumps, shrinking in on himself and looking at you questioningly. It takes him a long time to even blush at these interactions, realizing that they come from a place of fondness and not emotionlessness or malicious intent. When he’s finally comfortable, doing these things in public will spook him immensely, but doing it in private is just fine. He’ll melt into your touches like he’s never been loved before. The thumping of your heart will be enough to soothe him to rest and a twitch of your fingers will be enough for him to grab yours, intertwining his fingers with them. He will breathe and you will be there and that will be enough.

Don’t kiss him yet, though. You’d have to wait a few months to do that with him.

Idia Shroud who is a pervert.

He simply cannot get enough of your smell. He doesn’t even mind if it's strong. It doesn’t matter. He will bury his face in your neck when you two are in private, and will do far worse when he’s alone. He often nicks your dirty clothes when he comes by your dorm. He usually takes worn shirts, hoodies, and bras (if you wear them), but will occasionally take a pair of your intimates. What he does with all those is obvious. He often sleeps with them, holding your clothes close to his face and inhaling your scent, pretending he was brave enough to convince you to stay over. And when a growing need makes itself known in his abdomen and his head starts to spin, he’ll wait til he’s alone before pulling out your intimates and shamefully pressing his face into them, wrapping a hand around his length.

Idia Shroud who is submissive.

Well yes, he knows what sex is, he’s an adult. What he doesn’t know is all the particulars, how fond and loving it could be, how intense and overstimulating it could be, and just how many breaks he’d need to take. Before being with you, all he’d known was that watching hentai was enough to get him off. He knew what he liked in theory, all the twisted hentai fantasies locked under several layers of encryption on his laptop. But he didn’t know what he actually liked. He had never had anyone truly touch him before. When your fingers run down his arm or press into his thigh, he doesn’t know how to react. And when you touch bare skin, it’s even worse. It took you a long time to even kiss him, and it’ll take far longer to initiate and maintain any sort of extensive physical intimacy. But when he’s finally comfortable, you start out slow. You go no further than his torso for a few months, touching him carefully, paying attention to every hitched breath, gasp, and mumble that came from him, memorizing what he liked. When he says it’s alright, you’ll touch his thighs, and if he’s feeling brave, he’ll let you squeeze them and ghost your fingers close to his groin. With your permission, he’ll press his hands to your chest and hold you by your waist, and if he’s brave enough, he’ll squeeze your hips, too. When he finally lets you see his length, the two of you are limited to mutual masturbation for a while, foreheads pressed together and pleasured sighs mixing together. In the passing months, when he’s ready for more, you’ll start touching him, and he’ll start touching you, getting each other off instead of mutual masturbation. And finally, when he decides he’s truly ready, he’ll tell you, and he’ll let you take the lead and pin him to the nearest piece of furniture.

Idia Shroud who is insatiable.

You’ve had him once, and you’ll have him again, and again, and again. After the first time, you worked together to see what felt and worked right for both of you, and once it was perfected, it just kept happening. He couldn’t get enough. He loved your touch, your taste, and all the sounds you’d make, and he loved how you made him feel. Each time he finished, whether he was inside or outside of you, under you or over you, taking what you had or doing the work, he always felt overwhelmingly yours. And he wanted to be yours over and over and over again, and he wanted you to remind him that he belonged to you each and every time. After taking control of things his whole life, it is immeasurably pleasurable to leave all the decisions to someone else. To be purely at their mercy, knowing he is safe in their arms. He cannot get enough of that feeling, and it’s all the better that it’s with you.

Idia Shroud who is in love with you.

a/n: screams and yells and kicks my feet i love him sm!! anyways i really really hope u guys like this one bc i actually really like this one. i think i did an exceptionally good job this time. again more will be coming for the other 18+ characs, like Trey and Cater and Vil and Rook and possibly Leona. I'll do the profs if asked, maybe, but the reader WILL NOT be a student. again i do appreciate likes, comments, reblogs, and asks!! thank you all so much!

#twisted wonderland #twst #idia shroud #twst wonderland #twst x reader #twst idia #idia smut #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud twst #idia shroud smut #twisted wonderland smut #twst smut #idia shroud x yuu

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year

Text

Sorry, wrong number | Xavier Thorpe x Reader x Ajax Petropolus

Summary: After sending a nude to the wrong contact (your mistake), you and Xavier invite Ajax for one night

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: **all characters are aged up to 18** smut, threesome, oral (f receiving), hair pulling, p+v, overstimulation

A/N: This is pure smut, you have been warned. I’ve gotten a lot of Xavier smut requests and decided to pack some into one post. I hope you enjoy!!

p.s. let me know if you want a part 2 ;)

my taglists are here + you can requests here at any time

—

It all started by sending a sexy pic to the wrong person.

In the haste of sending your newest nude to your boyfriend, you accidently sent it to his best friend. When you realized your mistake, it was too late to tell Ajax to not look at the photo. The message said read.

Ajax was confused by the message, but he didn’t hate it — the photo. A perfect shot of your full breasts and underwear with your hand reaching down. You had taken it whilst Yoko was still at Bianca and Divina’s dorm, taking advantage of the rare moment you had the dorm to yourself.

Mortified of the situation, you quickly typed a ‘sorry’ in caps, telling him the picture was not meant for him, but for Xavier — obviously. The reason for this mistake was because of Ms. Thornhill. Ajax had asked you a question about the homework she gave this afternoon and that’s how he ended at the top of your contact list on your phone.

A week later, mewls kept spilling from your lips as Xavier's lips were wrapped around your clit, sucking on it hard enough to have your legs shaking and your hand in his hair. You tightened your grip on his hair, pulling harder and making Xavier moan.

You closed your eyes, the pleasure doubling from Ajax latching his mouth on your tits and sucking on your taut nipples and playing with the other, finally seeing them in person after getting painfully hard all weekend because of your mistake. In his own words, they were glorious.

Neither of you had been in this situationship before — the three person type of sex. You never thought Xavier would be the one to bring it up, but after catching why Ajax was avoiding you with his eyes, he got the marvelous idea to invite his best friend to join in.

You had been surprised at first, but then it made sense. If Xavier were to share you with anyone, it would be Ajax. He trusted his best friend to not get confused or weird about the situationship — this was a one time thing — and to keep it on the down low. He didn’t want your sexual adventures to become a hallway gossip or worse, get on Enid’s gossip blog.

You were curious how the rest of the night would plan out.

‘’Yes, baby! Right there!’’ Your back arched from Ajax’s bed, the combined assaults on your clit and nipples triggering an intense wave of pleasure through your body. Your pussy was so wet your arousal was sticking and dripping down Xavier’s chin who showed no signs of stopping, loving to get pussy-drunk.

Beside you, Ajax’s neglected cock was getting painfully hard from feeling and hearing you. He reached to touch himself, but you pushed his hand away and palmed his impressive bulge through his grey sweatpants, making him moan and roll his eyes to the back of his head.

‘’Holy shit,’’ he grunted, his mouth no longer working on your tits.

By his reaction, Ajax wasn't getting much action these days. Dating must be difficult for gorgons. Many get scared of their snakes and fear getting stoned.

You then pulled him out of his sweatpants, causing Ajax to swear under his breath when your thumb brushed over his tip. He was so sensitive.

You weren't one to speak on sensitivity, your hips jolting as Xavier suckled on your clit. He chuckled amusedly, breaking contact and looking up, his hair an absolute wreck falling across his face.

A whine left your lips at the loss of contact. ‘’No. Please,’’ you begged needily, grinding toward his mouth to get him to put it on you again.

Instead, Xavier wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glanced at Ajax. He didn't invite him just to be a spectator. ‘’Want a taste?’’

The gorgon was unsure at first. Was Xavier serious?

With a short nod, Ajax put his cock back in his sweatpants and they switched places on the bed, the mattress squeaking from the movement. Ajax’s eyes raked up your body, all spread before him. His cock twitched at the sight.

Xavier stroked your cheek and you leaned into his touch.

‘’Are you sure?’’ Ajax asked, his eyes shifting from you to Xavier and back to you, making sure everyone was consenting.

You clenched around nothing and whined, begging your friend to do something.

The first stripe of his tongue made you yelp and jump away. You never had someone else’s tongue on you. Although it was exciting, your body was a little nervous. ‘’Sorry. I…it just startled me,’’ you explained with flushed cheeks, but Ajax shook his head, not taking it personal.

Letting him partaking in this alone was fucking surreal. He wasn’t going to make you feel bad for something so small and silly.

‘’It’s all good,’’ he assured.

Laying next to you, Xavier helped you relax, caressing your newly tense body and attaching his lips to yours, making you hum into the kiss. Once you were getting comfortable — and needy —, Ajax went again, this time sliding his tongue between your folds and taking a full slurp of your juices. You moaned in Xavier’s mouth, only to have it leave yours to kiss your jaw and neck. As fun as this was, you missed the intimacy and special connection between you and Xavier.

You tilted your head back, giving him more room to kiss and mark.

Between your legs, Ajax was in awe at how responsive you were. All the sounds coming from your mouth made him wish your hand was still wrapped around his cock. Or better, your mouth.

‘’Ahh, Ajax!’’ you cried, his nose bumping with your clit as he licked and sucked. Your legs clasped around his head, caging him there until the knot in your abdomen pulled even tighter — and snapped.

Your fingers curled and clutched at whatever was closest — the back of Xavier’s shirt and his arm, nails digging into his skin — as your orgasm coursed through your body, cumming on Ajax’s tongue — who gripped your thighs and slurped it all up.

‘’Holy shit,’’ Ajax groaned when he pulled back. ‘’That was— Fuck.’’ He stumbled over his words, running his hands over his face.

You laughed at how genuinely impressed he was, your stomach heaving as you tried to catch your breath. You grabbed Xavier’s arm and stroked it, anchoring yourself to him.

‘’This is nothing,’’ Xavier said with a cocky smile, knowing how hard you can cum. How hard he can make you cum.

Memories of your and Xavier's wildest nights came to you in a blur. The mess you made on the sheets. The mess he made of you.

You felt your core tighten.

An idea coursed through your head. ‘’Let’s show him.’’

It was filthy — making a show for your friend to watch and jerk off to —, but you had reached a level of comfortableness in the past hour where not much was weird and uncomfortable anymore. Ajax had his mouth on your cunt less than three minutes ago. What would be weird would be kicking him out with blue balls so you and Xavier could finish alone.

Xavier rid himself of his clothes, his cock springing up. Your mouth watered at the sight and your pussy clenched, missing him. The last time you had sex that wasn’t something quick in the shed went back to two weeks ago. You both cursed Rowan for this, being a cock-block and refusing to go to the library for a few hours.

He pulled your legs apart wider and lined himself, teasing you by running his tip along your clit and down your folds, making you whimper, still sensitive from your prior orgasm. ‘’So eager for me, aren’t you?’’

Always, you thought.

Xavier pushed in until he bottomed out, his green eyes connected with yours as he did. You wanted to pull him down and wrap your whole body around him, having him kiss your face and tell you how much he loves you, but you let out a blissful moan instead.

Another curse left Ajax’s mouth, kicking his pants out of the way and grabbing his thick cock. It felt forbidden, like he shouldn't be jerking off to his friends, but he didn’t feel any guilt.

‘’Faster please,’’ you said, getting frustrated by Xavier’s slow and teasing pace. You wanted him to fuck you, not make love to you.

The next thrust was so hard and deep that air was knocked out of you. ‘’Ah, yes!’’ you cried, your voice bouncing on the walls.

Xavier did it again, grabbing your thighs as you arched your back and moaned his name, making Ajax pump faster. You grabbed your tits and clenched around Xavier, feeling waves of pleasure coursing through your bodies.

‘’You can rub her clit while I— ah, fuck. She’ll cum faster.’’

Ajax got the message and pressed on your clit, sending you into an overdose of pleasure.

‘’I'm gonna cum,’’ you warned them with a cry, overwhelmed with sensations. Your body convulsed and you came hard, causing your legs to shake as you clenched around Xavier’s cock, clinging on to the sheets as if it were the only thing anchoring you to the world.

Ajax followed almost immediately with a strained grunt, unable to hold it in anymore and spilling thick ropes of cum on your stomach and sheets.

Xavier sped up his thrusts, trying to hurry knowing how sensitive you must be, and came a few moments later, adding to the mess on your stomach and expanding on your tits.

The next minutes were spent in silence, heavy breaths filling the room.

‘’So…this happened,’’ Ajax said, finally sitting up.

You laid on the bed, sprawled like a starfish, exhausted in all the senses of the word, still reeling from your climax. Xavier’s hands were grabbing at you in any way he could and kissing your shoulder, always needy and soft after sex. You ran your fingers through his hair and he pushed into your touch.

‘’Next time, I want your cock in my mouth,’’ you told Ajax, who was stunned.

‘’N-next time?’’ both boys said at the same time.

—

Wednesday taglist: @sofiaadler @partyfly @hoodforcalum @thelilacmourning @ellessecretobsession @su-alteza-emia @achoo---uu @not-leaprvt @xaviersgf @peterparkerdilf @roadworkaheadisurehopeitdoes @dragon-chica @coldtacozinepanda @wrldofsage @eddiemunsonsluvrrr @capriaura @officialsaturn @babyfiva @maevaomizzolo @kelloggs-world @whosljt @ajpanda181 @belovedrey @emerycrt @elizabitchsshit @heaven-hiding @lilithlikestoread @est-liber @moonisu @dessxoxsworld @parker-nite @bellblake121890 @vesperazhier @kaldurahms-lover @beeebo234 @nephilimsss @mayuphoenix @sweetheartlizzie07 @watermelon-18 @snixx2088 @555stargirl555 @robinscardigan @chumchum19 @lilttblog @aphex2winn @heizenka @mystargirl-interlude @hwrtsiren @babygirljay20 @wildflowerlyss @strangersomeone @openfandoms @charlottelaffin @iheartmaddyperez @starless-starkov @ali-r3n @poppet05 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @rhaenyraswife @teaganthemorningstar @aphex2winn @moompie @ifevilwhyhot

#xavier thorpe #ajax petropolus #xavier x reader x ajax #xavier thorpe x reader #ajax petropolus x reader #xavier thorpe imagine #ajax petropolus imagine #wednesday #wednesday imagine #wednesday netflix #xavier thorpe fanfic #I have not reread this so I'm sorry if it sucks #does anyone wants a part 2?

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azriel-scum · 7 months

Text

It Wasn't Supposed to be This Way Part 3

Warnings: domestic abuse, mentions of sexual abuse and semi-graphic scene toward the end. Please do not read if this will trigger you!

Elara was shaking and trying very hard to control her breathing.

It wasn't just that Merikh had been in her face, gripping her harshly, dangerously close to recreating the events of the night before.

It wasn't just that Azriel had potentially discovered what was going on before she could fix it herself.

It was the intense feeling in her chest. The intense wave of shock and anxiety that had slammed into her. She had never felt emotions that intensely before, not even on Merikh's worst nights.

Azriel continued to stand there.

With restless and shaking hands she gathered up the scattered papers and books on her desk, having no idea if she actually needed any of it.

Azriel was still just standing there.

"Azriel, did you need something?" Her attempt at being composed came out breathy and rushed.

Still speechless, he just stood there. Opened his mouth. Closed it. And then settled on just shaking his head.

She picked up her haphazard pile of papers and made toward the door.

Azriel stepped to the side, out of the doorway and found his voice.

"I think Cassian wanted to discuss having his soldiers doing some city patrol shifts. He's upstairs."

Elara nodded her head and walked out the door. Taking two steps down the hallway before Azriel speaks again.

"El -" She paused in the hallway but didn't turn around.

Before he could finish, shouting erupts from down the hall.

Merikh, distraught and furious, screaming. She can't see him, but she knows it's him. Would recognize that kind of shouting anywhere, from her nightmares, from the drunken nights, from the daylight when he would track her down in the city.

Rhsyand. He was screaming at Rhysand. This couldn't be happening, someone she had brought around, someone she had gotten a job was screaming at the High Lord.

He was screaming at Rhysand; the High Lord was deathly silent.

For Elara, everything went black. The shouting was more than just yelling between two men. It triggered in her a reaction like nothing else in her life.

A warrior, a female who had seen unfathomable tragedy; had seen death occur in such unnatural, unimaginable ways over and over and over again - had even caused it by her own hands. As a young female, she'd seen abuse that was indescribable, memories that would play in a trance over and over again as she tried to sleep. Yet, none of those things triggered a reaction in her like the one she was having in this moment.

Elara had barely made it out of the doorway when the yelling started, now her body was frozen and none of her senses were working.

Azriel appeared next to her. "El maybe we should -" he reached out a hand to usher her back into the office, but Elara stuck out a stiff arm, commanding him to stay back.

A wave of nausea had overcome her and it was taking everything in her to not gag in front of Azriel. Gods how embarrassing would that be.

Elara had tried so hard to keep her interactions with the inner circle strictly business. She would consider all of them her friends, her closest confidants when it came to work, when it came to the battle field, but when it came to her personal life, she didn't typically factor them at all. It was a defense mechanism, a way to shield herself, and her heart, from being hurt.

Rhysand was the closest thing she had to an older sibling, he had saved her life and her family, but even still they rarely had conversations that didn't revolve around work. He was busy and she was happy to keep her personal life outside of his radar.

If you never have anything, you can never lose anything.

Elara had already lost so much in her life and felt the impending doom of losing her mother day in and day out. Every single day she mourned the loss of someone who was still here and every single day she worried about the safety of her siblings. And every single day she worried about the safety of the citizens of Velaris. There was nothing else she could attach her heart to.

And so she ran to the bathroom. One for the impending nausea and two for the escape of anyone who cared for her, who wanted to be a friend.

Her knees hit the tile and her chest hit the front of the toilet. As she kneeled on the floor and wretched, it was the loneliest she had ever felt in her life.

Elara leaned back against the door, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. No one had followed her to the bathroom, no one had knocked on the door. She assumed Azriel knew of her intense desire to be left alone and with all the commotion downstairs she was the last person on anyone's mind.

She couldn't stop thinking about that feeling in her chest. The intensity of it, the unfamiliarity.

Finally, she stood up on shaky legs, picking up her papers and notes that were strewn across the floor and walked out of the bathroom. The hallway outside her office was empty and the shouting had stopped. She walked toward the window, hoping to simply fly out of the house undetected - no such luck.

From around the corner, Rhys walked toward Elara, looking concerned. He looked at her, his eyes asking if she was okay. She gave a soft nod.

Silently she said to Rhys. I'll be back tomorrow, Do you need anything before then?

Before he could respond, Merikh came up behind Rhys, Azriel and Cassian quickly following behind him. Elara made brief eye contact with Merikh and that feeling from her chest returned. Before, her anxiety had covered the feeling that she wasn't able to discern the feeling, but now she knew exactly what it was. A small tug, right where her heart lays.

No.

This had to be some awful horrible mistake, some kind of cosmic mistake.

Maybe she was wrong, maybe this wasn't the mating bond. After all, how would she even know what it felt like?

Only from hearing it be described for hundreds of years of her life.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

Merikh stopped in front of her. Cassian and Azriel were still standing behind him looking weary of his actions and Rhys just watched him apprehensively.

Elara had to keep reminding herself that they didn't know, they didn't know that he was violent with her, maybe Azriel was suspicious, but she could easily dispel that. In the seconds that she stood staring at Merikh, she reimagined her entire life. No one knew how horrible he had been to her, she could start out with him on a fresh slate. Surely the mating instinct would kick in for him and he would be protective of her, not want to hurt her anymore. This could be good for him, it could give him the purpose for his life that he's been searching for. They could be happy together, Elara thought. They weren't so different after all, they had been through a lot in their lives and neither one of them coped especially well, but surely surely there was a reason for this bond from the Mother.

She searched his eyes, trying to see if the bond had snapped for him too. The only thing she saw in him was anxiety.

"Lara I - I wanted to apologize for earlier. I - I shouldn't have talked about you getting r- attacked in Illyria and -"

Is he always this insufferable? The words came into her mind from Rhysand and she had to push her lips together to smother her reaction and keep her face neutral. It was abundantly clear that the shouting match had ended in Rhys forcing him to apologize.

Merikh stumbled through the rest of his apology, nothing more than a disjointed handful of words that didn't go together. Elara said nothing when he was done speaking just nodded her head once. Even though Rhys had put him up to this, maybe this could be the start of the clean slate she so desperately wanted. With her mate.

She winnows them down to the streets out the House of Wind and they walk home together. They don't hold hands, there's some tension, but Elara thinks maybe things will be okay. They chat easily, nothing serious, but they cover all of the small talk. As they near their apartment, he ventures to ask about her mother and siblings.

Elara tenses, she knows that out of all the conversations they could have, this one is probably the most volatile. For once though, she lets herself take a breath and relax. If she doesn't get defensive, maybe he won't either.

"I saw them, they're doing well. Enny and Vira are doing well in school, I'm very proud of them."

Merikh nods, but doesn't add anything and Elara thinks she's okay with him listening and not always having to respond.

Over the next few days, there's still some nervousness, they both seem apprehensive toward each other, as if they are a new couple that's just starting to date. Elara tries to work out if Merikh feels anything of the bond on his end, but there's been nothing to suggest that he had.

A couple weeks passed and Elara couldn't remember the last time she felt a tug in her chest. Was this how things were supposed to be? You get comfortable enough with your mate and things just get easier? Maybe your less aware of the bond, don't feel it everyday.

Elara had been busy with work over the last few weeks and it seemed that so was Merikh. They rarely crossed paths with each other, but when they did Merikh had been...good. He had made her dinner twice, they had sat on the couch together and chatted easily, they laid in bed together. It had been a very long time since they had been intimate together, but Merikh had started to initiate; in the past by the time Elara had gotten home Merikh would already be drunk or passed out, but he had been drinking less and was much more present. Being intimate with him was...fine. It wasn't something she loved doing, but she didn't hate it either. They didn't talk about work, or her mother or anything else of importance, but they also hadn't fought. Things were unremarkable, but they weren't bad. This was the person that the universe had chosen for her and maybe, just maybe, this is how things were supposed to be.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Today, Elara woke up sore.

She had bruises on her waist and sides from Merikh gripping her last night.

She hadn't said no last night.

She had agreed to be with him, but she hadn't known how excited he was going to get.

Maybe these bruises are okay, proof that he loves her, proof that they had made love.

They were not bruises borne from violence or aggression, but were they from love?

Elara wasn't sure.

She spent her morning making her rounds through the city. Stopping in and talking to shop owners, and visiting the school. Around mid morning she headed back to the training rings at the house of wind. Sometimes, she wasn't in the mood to train with others and preferred to work out by herself.

On her way to the rings, Elara was feeling a high of gratitude and happiness. How very lucky she was to be leading this city, to be trusted with the wellbeing of its citizen and the security of its borders. How very lucky she was to have had a second lease on life, but this was the promise of Velaris. A safe haven, a paradise, a place of redemption.

She flew up to the rings, landed gracefully and then promptly got to work.

The bruises made it hard to do any kind of core workout, but she did her best. The sweat and endorphins from lifting weights and doing exercises freed her mind and released her of the crippling anxiety.

In the middle of a bench pass, Cassian suddenly appears and is pulling the bar up from Elara's chest and racking it.

"I didn't need your help." She sits up on the bench and turns around to see the Illyrian general smirking.

"I know. I want to spar."

Sighing, she stood and looked at him to assess how serious he was being. He raised his eyebrows in a challenge, daring her to say no. Elara was in no shape to spar and she knew it. On a regular day, she could easily give Cassian a run for his money, but today she was far too fragile to move the way she needed to.

"I need to make sure our governess can still keep the city safe." He was smiling like a cat, knowing he gave a challenge she couldn't possibly say no to.

And then they were in the ring, a flurry of punches, ducking and defensive stances. Elara's mid section was on fire, but the thrill and adrenaline from the fight made her forget everything. She was completely dialed in until there was that feeling in her chest again. A tug on the bond. She hadn't felt it in weeks and it sent her heart into her stomach. Gasping, she lost control of her stance and Cassian landed a hit on her, squarely in her abdomen. She stumbled back, falling into the corner. The breath was completely knocked out of her, her chest and lungs were burning.

"Shit El. Are you okay?"

Elara couldn't catch her breath and it was making her start to panic. Between the sudden tug in her chest that she hadn't expected to the all the sensitive areas of her bruises flaring up, the punch Cassian had landed almost felt like an afterthought.

And now she hyperventilating and couldn't make eye contact with Cassian. This was embarrassing. She was so unable to be loved that she couldn't even handle the feeling of the bond, had a panic attack every time she was reminded of its presence.

He kneeled down in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders.

"El, you've got to breathe. Deep breaths."

Slowly, with the soothing sounds of his voice she calmed down.

"Sorry, Cass. I've just been feeling off today, I think I might be getting sick or someth-"

"El," he's looking right into her eyes and it feels so vulnerable and she knows she has to get out of here.

"El, what's going on?" His eyes had travelled down to her waist, where her shirt had ridden up. Following his line of sight, Elara knows she has to make a decision. Does everything about Merikh unravel right here, or does she tell Cassian an embarassing half truth about where the bruises came from.

It was a no brainer.

"Rough training session last night." It was meant to come out as a joke, but the delivery was half-hearted and Cassian doesn't react in the slightest, just continues looking at her.

Finally, he helps her stand up. She's leaning on him heavily and still trying her best to take deep breaths. She turns around and flinches slightly when she sees Azriel is standing in the doorway of the training rings.

When had he gotten here? How much had he seen?

"Cass, we have to go for a meeting with Devlon." He doesn't say anything to Elara, but catches her eyes for a moment before looking back to Cassian.

The general looked reluctant to leave Elara, but they had a meeting and Azriel was waiting.

Quickly, she took her out. "I'll see the both of you later, have a good meeting." She winnows away before she can even register either of their reactions.

Elara ends the workday in her office, handling some correspondences and then meeting with Sylas about visiting Windhaven. They had identified the citizen of Velaris that defected out to the rogue camp, a young male named Taron. Despite everything, Elara felt empathy for him; he seemed lost, like he was searching for a purpose, she only hoped sense could be talked into him.

After her meeting with Sylas, she'd finishing up some paperwork, slowly, because she dreads going home to Merikh right now more than anything else. A note appears on top of her paperwork in Rhy's handwriting.

My office please, when you can.

After a few deep breaths, she winnowed down the hall and into his office. Rhysand was sitting at his desk, leaned back in his chair with a glass of bourbon. It wasn't unusual for him to end his day with a drink, and Elara knew Rhysand was a good male, but seeing him with the drink put her on edge. It felt too similar to what she been coming home to for the last few years.

He gestured to the seat.

She sat.

The nerves building, logically she knew he probably just wanted to talk about work, but there had been too many close calls recently and the risk of the truth coming out felt far too eminent.

"How are you feeling about your trip to Windhaven?"

"I feel good, Sylas and I finalized our plans today. I'm not excited to be back at the camp, but I know it's necessary."

He nods his head, but doesn't say anything else. Elara refuses to fill the silence.

"I'm concerned about this wayward group in Windhaven, but I'm more concerned about any of their members being in Velaris." Rhys finally says.

"Me as well, I've been working with Cassian to have more patrols and I've been speaking with citizens almost daily to catch anything suspicious , as far as any of us can tell there hasn't been any more activity in the city."

Rhys leans back further in his chair, looking at her intensely.

"I'm concerned about your partner and the access he has to the governess of the city."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm concerned about Merikh. Azriel and Cassian are concerned about his connections in Illyria. And I don't think you've been entirely honest with us."

Elara could feel her power stirring up in her, threatening to blow over.

"What are you trying to say?"

Rhys stands from his chair and walks around until he's leaning against the front of his desk with his arms crossed.

"I'm saying that Merikh has been acting and speaking suspiciously. I'm saying that I sense you haven't been entirely honest recently. I'm worried about my governess and I'm worried about her as a sister.

Elara kept her face completely steeled, her lips pursed and her eyes burning holes into his. She didn't move an inch, didn't betray anything in her emotions. Rhysand stares back and neither one of them are surrendering.

"If you have concerns about Merikh, then they need to be addressed. I can assure you, High Lord, that there are no issues with my honesty or my ability to protect the city."

Rhys still continued to look at her, not saying anything. Elara took that as her cue and walked out of his office.

She headed home, desperately wishing that Merikh was passed out on the couch or simply not home.

Elara entered the house and her senses went up immediately. Her intensified senses picked up the smell of whiskey. Her wings instinctively tucked in closer to herself when she saw Merikh sitting on the couch; he drains his glass and stands up to look at her.

Enough time had passed since the last incident with him that Elara was almost able to forget what he was capable of, but seeing the look in his eyes was a stark reminder.

"I thought I told you not to go to Windhaven, that's no place for you. You're making me look like a fool by going out there."

"How do you know I'm going out there?" It was a stupid thing to come out of her mouth, an instinctual reaction, but her mission was supposed to have been confidential and subsequently all the meetings had been strictly closed door. He had been in the room when she suggested going a few weeks ago, but no one had brought it up since. The orders for the mission had come down from Rhys last week and the meeting with Sylas had been in the afternoon.

Merikh completely ignored your question, but was slowly walking closer to her. He got up in her face and Elara tensed, waiting for the ball to drop. His breath hot on her face, he asks "what do you think all the other Illyrian males will say when they see you out there by yourself? You're too attractive of a female to be roaming around the camps?"

Forget the she was Illyrian and had spent her entire childhood in that camp - was he flirting with her? Was he acting like a jealous male? The kind that's actually protective over their partner?

Elara had no idea what to say to him. She couldn't tell if this was supposed to be an intimate moment for them or if she could set him off at any second, so she simply turned her head up and kissed him. Thankfully, he reciprocated.

Things progressed quickly from there, Elara's anger at Rhys long forgotten, her embarrassment in the training rings drowned out. His hands and mouth were all over her, their clothes flying off of them in a fury.

But still, Elara couldn't stop thinking about how Merikh knew of the mission. Why he was so adamant that she didn't go. It all felt off. But the male standing in front of her had been chosen for her, was her perfect match - he surely had his faults, but there was no way he'd be able to plot anything against her.

With no express warning or preparation, Merikh bent her over to slip inside her. Elara twisted around and put her hands on his forearms, trying to signal she wasn't quite in the mood for that yet, but Merikh was too drunk or indifferent to care.

Turning her back around, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Taron won't be able to keep his eyes off of you, don't forget to let him know who you belong to."

This time Elara twisted around to look at him with force. Stood her ground against his rough hands. "What the fuck did you just say?"

"At your trip to Windhaven, don't forget who you belong to."

"No, who is Taron? How do you know him?"

"You wicked bitch, why does it matter?"

She lunges at him and he's fighting back. There has never been a time that she actively fought Merikh, she always became submissive and just waited for it to be over, but this time she realized that Rhys had been correct and the safety of her city and everything she worked for was at stake.

He's fighting back and she's resisting the urge to completely burn him up with a blast of starlight, but she can't muster up the power. Her powers have been dampened. She tries to winnow and she can't. She tries to speak to Rhys or Feyre mind to mind and she can't. She tries to fight back, but she's getting uncharacteristically tired. It starts to feel as though she's paralyzed.

Merikh has an evil look in his eye. He's pushes her to ground, starts kicking her and slashing at her wings, at her face, anything he could.

Elara remains conscious the entire time, but is completely frozen.

Finally, mercifully he places one final kick to her face and leaves. As soon as he's out the door, Elara feels a fizzle in her fingertips. Her magic returning.

She can barely move, barely think and can barely breathe.

With her last ounce of energy and consciousness she screams into Rhysand's mind.

#acotar #azriel #cassian #innercircle #rhysand #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #acotar x reader #x reader angst #Azriel x oc #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst

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yanderes-galore · 6 months

Note

Since there's no God of War fic here yet, could you write somwthing for Freya/Frigg (her obssession can start with the 2018 game and gets more intense in Ragnarok when she's an ally to Kratos). Reader helps Kratos on his journey and despises Odin as much as her, which makes her have a conection with them.

(This woman literally made her son immortal and invulnerable to almost everything just to protect him, imagine what she would do for her darling).

-🐻

Honestly, she's also quite an intense yandere. I'd love to! I utilized some of the plot elements you gave me but also just gave my general view of her as a yandere.

Yandere! Freya Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Fear of loss, Overprotective behavior, Manipulation, Isolation, Violence, Stalking, Trauma, Forced immortality, Self-destructive behavior, Paranoia, Dubious/Forced relationship.

Honestly, while Kratos is intense because he's brutal...

Freya is intense because she's smothering.

She, like Kratos, has lost many people close to her already.

Both of them have a fear of loss that drives them crazy.

Freya would meet you around the 2018 game.

Despite the distrusting nature of Kratos she sees you are an ally of him and his son.

You probably don't know much about Odin until Ragnarök's events take place.

That is unless you know about her legend and past... even then she may have to tell you about it.

You are right that Freya would go to great lengths to protect you.

She protected Baldur with a spell that made him immortal yet unfeeling, she healed Atreus...

If she cares for someone enough she'll do everything she can to protect them.

Even after Kratos kills her son she wouldn't hate you.

Freya is a motherly yandere who is suffocating with her affection.

She hasn't truly loved anyone as a spouse due to her experiences with Odin.

But she certainly has a connection to children.

When it comes to the one she loves she'll do everything in her power to protect them.

Considering how she's a God, that's a lot of power.

She would feel guilty and bad if her ways of protecting you made you unhappy, but she prefers that over losing you.

Don't be surprised if Freya gives you an immortality spell similar to Baldur's.

She may even try to keep you isolated just to hide you from Odin.

If you also hated Odin it only feeds into her feelings towards you.

Freya has trauma due to Odin.

As a result she views you as someone to cling to, someone to heal her inner pain.

Especially after the death of Baldur, her son.

While she is an ally to Kratos in the 2018 game she isn't as obsessed, she's protective but hasn't fallen for you fully yet.

After the death of Baldur she stalks you along with Kratos.

Freya hates that you still work with Kratos instead of siding with her.

Which only fuels her attempts of killing Kratos.

She means you no harm, yet I suggest not trusting any eagles.

She may just be watching.

Her obsession fully situates when she joins Kratos again.

She no longer wants to kill the man... plus she's a bit envious that he's around you all the time.

You're so much different than Odin... and you hate the man too.

As Ragnarök unfolds, Freya feels she needs you.

To her... you may be the cure for her trauma.

Because of this she begins to pursue you.

Now let me say this, Freya may be even harder to leave than Kratos.

She has many spells and tricks to her advantage.

She can disguise herself, make you immortal, isolate you....

If Freya feels there's a way to protect you she'll pursue it.

Even if you begin to hate her... Freya accepts it.

She loves you too much to just lose you.

She fears your death, she fears you running off...

She'd rather perish than give you up.

Speaking of which, Freya would sacrifice herself to protect you.

She could care less what happened to her at times, just as long as you're alive she's happy.

Freya can't wait until Odin is dead, honestly.

By the end of Ragnarök she's ready to make you her true spouse.

One she wishes to marry out of love... not out of obligation.

Freya can be extremely caring.

Being with her isn't too bad....

But since you most likely have the immortality spell on you, you can't feel much.

In fact... you feel a bit broken and frustrated.

Freya ends up recreating the pain she inflicted on her son with you.

You begin to resent her because she'd rather keep you safe than happy.

No matter how much she says she loves you, no matter how many kisses she gives you...

You feel nothing.

Yet Freya doesn't care in the end... because at least she has you... safe and sound.

#yandere god of war #yandere freya

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traumasurvivors · 9 months

Text

This is an informative piece I wrote on hypersexuality and sex repulsion. You can read it below the read more as well if you prefer!

Hypersexuality has been referred to by such terms as “hypersexual disorder,” “sex addiction,” “nymphomania,” or the term that is in the most recent International Classification of Diseases (ICD-11), “Compulsive Sexual Behaviour Disorder.” In clinical discussion it is often given many possible causes, with little focus on (or even outright exclusion of) a very important cause - trauma. The idea that hypersexuality and trauma are connected is nothing new. And yet, it is rarely discussed. Today, we have a greater understanding of trauma and its effects on people than ever before. The connection deserves to be talked about more than it has been.

In much discussion of hypersexuality, it is defined by having repetitive and intense urges for sexual activity. These are defined to be well above “normal” levels of sexual activity, and some but not all definitions require it to cause significant problems in other areas of life and/or personal distress. The hypersexual person may get little or no pleasure from the sexual activity. Even if this is the case, they may continue to actively seek out sex and may also engage in a lot of self exploration.

In a person with trauma, there are many reasons for this activity. Some of these reasons may, unfortunately, cause them harm. They may feel that sex is “all they are good for”. They may feel a desire to retraumatize themselves. Going along with this, they may seek out rougher and more traumatizing sexual activity. Sex may become a part of how they define themselves - including that they may see themself as an object. If they were traumatized by someone who they believe cared about them, they may feel that sex is the best (or only) way to feel cared for again. They may believe that pleasing someone else sexually is the best way for them to feel loved or valued. Some people may dissociate during sexual activity. Hypersexuality may cause them to deny parts of who they are.

Some hypersexuality may be motivated by other purposes as well. The person may be attempting to undo their trauma, or redo it with changes (such as a more “positive” ending). They may feel their actions give them a sense of control. They may find it extremely satisfying to be able to give active consent to sexual partners. Even with healthier seeming motivations, hypersexuality can be harmful. Some people may feel a huge amount of control when they are making arrangements to have sex, but then feel a loss of control during their activity. With that said, some people may find hypersexuality can help to heal from trauma. And avoiding sex can have issues of its own.

Another sexual issue that is connected with trauma is sex repulsion. Stigma around discussion of sex can make it difficult to discuss it even with a therapist. But this is also an issue that needs to be discussed openly.

Sex repulsion occurs when someone feels disgust at sexual activity, often even at speaking or thinking about sexual activity. This can be related to an extreme level of anxiety about sex. A person may not consciously feel “nervous” about sex, but may feel physical symptoms of anxiety such as an increased heart beat or stomach issues. This may be related to a feeling of a lack of control in sexual activity. The person may be worried that they could be triggered during sex, especially if it has happened in the past. They may be unsure what they should tell a potential partner, which adds to their anxiety.

Sex repulsion may be caused by other emotions as well, a frequent one being shame. This can occur on a subconscious level, especially if the person was traumatized as a child. Sexual arousal as a child can cause the pathways in the brain which relate to arousal to become associated with emotions like shame or fear, bringing these emotions back whenever the person thinks about sex. These emotions may also be related to more conscious thought. A sex repulsed person may feel like allowing themselves to have or enjoy sex is saying that their abuse was “okay.” These type of thoughts may make them get disgusted at the very idea of sexual activity, because they feel it is “wrong” to enjoy sex. If they do enjoy sexual activity, they may feel a huge amount of guilt, which can then feed into their repulsion.

While hypersexuality and sex repulsion are often related to sexual trauma, they can be caused by trauma that is completely unrelated to sex, as well. The chemicals and hormones that are more active in the brain and body during trauma than at other times can cause associations that create a compulsive need for sexual activity. Alternatively, they may cause the body to be unable to feel the level of safety necessary to relax and enjoy sex, causing it to become anxiety-inducing and repulsive.

Hypersexuality and sex repulsion may sound like opposite experiences, however, many people may find they experience both hypersexuality and sex repulsion at different times. This can occur in the same month, day or hour, etc. They may even experience both at same time - for instance, they may feel compelled to have sex with someone even though the idea also disgusts them. These responses to trauma are valid, and more common than you might think. If you feel your sexual appetite is extremely high, or the very idea of sex is awful and disgusting, or even both, you are not alone. And you are valid.

#tw sex #my blog posts

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Beneath NCAA gymnastics’ glow, a familiar ‘toxic’ culture

Women’s college gymnastics looked like a joyous reprieve from their intense club programs. Then they showed up on campus.

By Molly Hensley-Clancy and Emily Giambalvo

After everything they went through as young gymnasts, college was supposed to be a safe haven.

The viral routines, the cheering crowds, the women swarming their teammates: NCAA gymnastics, at least as viewed from their Instagram feeds, was a world apart from the elite youth version of the sport, where injury, body-shaming and verbal abuse were expected.

Instead, they found the same toxicity.

At the University of North Carolina, gymnast Raine Gordon says, her assistant head coach, Amy Smith, pitted gymnasts against one another and made her feel ashamed of her body, once saying that Gordon’s leg was bruised after a fall because it was “fat.” Smith and the head coach, Derek Galvin, made Gordon sign a contract that threatened her scholarship if she didn’t lose weight every week. Bulimia, Gordon says, “became like a team activity.”

At LSU, one of the country’s top programs, Bailey Ferrer, a former elite gymnast, says the school’s longtime coach, D-D Breaux, praised her weight loss as she spiraled into an eating disorder, then retaliated when mental health treatment prevented Ferrer from training, once pushing her from a team huddle. Ferrer, devastated, was forced to cut her once-ascendant career short, she told The Washington Post.

And at Utah’s storied program, gymnasts this year reported verbal and emotional abuse by their coach, Tom Farden. His volatility and demeaning treatment, multiple gymnasts told investigators hired by the university, included hurling objects in fits of anger during training.

In September, the university announced it would not discipline Farden after its investigators found his conduct had not been “severe, pervasive or egregious” and after a majority of his current athletes defended him. But faced with the prospect of competing for Farden again, one of the program’s most prominent athletes, Kara Eaker, an alternate for the Tokyo Olympics in 2021, said in October she had been a “victim” of his mistreatment and was quitting the sport.

Farden’s treatment of her, she said in a statement, had triggered thoughts of suicide and self-harm. Another former athlete, Kim Tessen, also came forward to criticize the university’s investigation and say she had been mistreated by Farden.

“I want to stop the cycle of abuse and the men who threaten girls and women in all sports,” Eaker wrote.

Women’s college gymnastics has exploded in popularity in recent years, gaining television viewers, crowds and social media followers in droves. The NCAA championships last spring drew more than 1 million viewers on ESPN, its most ever, and in the era of athletes profiting from their brands, some gymnasts rank among the highest earners of any college sport, men or women.

But for some athletes, the reality of NCAA gymnastics has been sharply at odds with the sport’s public image, an examination by The Post found. In interviews and investigative records, gymnasts described “toxic” environments in which they were targeted by coaches, ignored by institutions and ostracized by teammates for speaking up. Coaches, a dozen gymnasts told The Post, created environments in which gymnasts felt unsafe and unsupported and where their mental health degraded. Some said they were even driven from the sport because of it.

Some allegations, like at Utah, have previously spilled into public view. At San Jose State, gymnasts told the Mercury News that their former coach had verbally abused and body-shamed them. The coach had been investigated in 2018, the newspaper reported, but denied the allegations and was allowed to retire with his pension and praise from the university. And at Penn State, one coach was fired and another resigned in the wake of 2016 allegations of emotional abuse and body-shaming from former gymnasts.

College gymnasts who have raised concerns in recent years about cultural issues in the sport said they hoped to join the chorus of women who spoke up about systemic sexual and emotional abuse at the elite youth clubs that fuel the powerhouse U.S. national program, including by Larry Nassar and Bela and Martha Karolyi. But change, they said, has yet to come.

In the wake of Nassar’s abuses, Congress created an oversight organization, the U.S. Center for SafeSport, to police abuse in the Olympic movement. But SafeSport does not have jurisdiction over college sports. The NCAA, meanwhile, largely gives colleges discretion over whether and how to respond to allegations of emotional abuse.

Smith, the North Carolina assistant, is now the head coach at Clemson. She did not respond to a detailed list of questions from The Post, issuing a statement saying only that “student-athlete wellbeing is incredibly important, and I am confident in our ability to provide those resources at Clemson.” UNC declined to comment.

Galvin, North Carolina’s former head coach, said he was “ashamed of myself” for asking Gordon to sign the weight loss contract, which he said he retracted shortly after presenting it on advice of the administration. “I let Raine down,” Galvin said.

Breaux did not respond to requests for comment. She retired as head coach in 2020 after 43 seasons but remains a part of the university’s athletic department. In a statement, an LSU spokesperson said the university had spoken with Breaux and Ferrer about the incident at the meet and worked to resolve it.

Investigators hired by Utah found that the majority of current athletes in the program had positive experiences with Farden and said they couldn’t corroborate many of the allegations. Incidents they had corroborated, where he made a derogatory comment or thrown an object in anger, the investigators said, were “isolated” and had not violated university codes.

Farden’s attorney, Brian C. Johnson, told The Post that his client would “likely take appropriate legal action” against Eaker and Tessen, saying their public statements on social media in the wake of the school’s decision were “false statements of fact.”

Asked whether Farden planned to change his coaching methods, Johnson said he did not. “He has a long history of success as a coach,” he said. “He’ll continue to do so in the fashion he’s done so.”

Shortly after a Post reporter asked a Utah spokesperson about the attorney’s comments, the university placed Farden on administrative leave, citing conduct “not related to student-athlete welfare.”

Crude awakening

After being screamed at, humiliated, body-shamed, overtrained or even — once — bitten by coaches as young girls, many gymnasts who spoke to The Post said they came to NCAA gymnastics with hope not just for something different. They hoped, they said, for something that would make the painful experiences of their early years feel worthwhile.

Some of the NCAA’s 1,200 Division I female gymnastsno doubt found that. In the wake of revelations about systemic abuse by Nassar and emotional abuse by some of the country’s most high-profile club gymnastics coaches, Katelyn Ohashi’s ebullient 2019 routines at UCLA went viral — along with her story of finding “joy” again in college gymnastics after body-shaming in the elite youth ranks almost drove her from the sport.

But others have had starkly different experiences.

Gordon arrived at UNC in 2016, hoping college would be a respite from the negative pressures of club gymnastics. Instead, she encountered Smith, then the assistant head coach, who she said singled her out from the earliest days of her freshman year, berating her for mistakes and comparing her negatively with her teammates.

When Gordon fell short on a high-stakes skills verification test, she said, Smith forced Gordon to compare herself one-by-one with each of the team’s walk-ons, asking Gordon if she felt she “deserved” a scholarship more than them.

“It genuinely felt like no matter what I did, I was doing something wrong,” Gordon said. “I felt like they were just waiting for me to mess up.”

Galvin, the head coach at the time, described Smith as “intense” in an interview with The Post. “She brings an intensity that some student-athletes thrive under and some don’t, and she can be very — she can be very honest. Another coaching style is to be more diplomatic, maybe, is the word,” he said. “There were times where I felt like the intensity in the gym was too much, and we backed off on it.”

Smith left North Carolina for Utah State in 2017. Soon after she took over that program, athletes began to flee: Ten gymnasts left in 2019, roster records maintained by the website College Gym News show, nearly half of the team. Another seven left in 2021. Three gymnasts told The Post they left Utah State’s program in part because of Smith’s coaching, and a fourth said so publicly. Others did not respond to requests for comment.

“I was told every day I wasn’t good enough,” former Utah State gymnast Morgan Gill said in an interview, describing how Smith held her to “impossible” standards such as requiring her to perform her routines for two weeks without a single fall. Gill said she eventually developed anxiety and chest pain so intense that she was prescribed an inhaler by a Utah State doctor. But even that provoked Smith’s anger, she said.

“You never knew what would set her off, but for me, the thing that made her overwhelmingly angry — to the extent of yelling at me in front of the whole team — was my inhaler,” Gill said. When she forgot to use her inhaler before practice and instead had to step out of a conditioning circuit to use it, Gill said, Smith yelled at her for “playing games” and “failing to fully comprehend what was expected” of her.

Internally, multiple athletes raised concerns about her coaching to the university, according to three former gymnasts and emails to administrators reviewed by The Post.

“It felt like countless times that we went to the administration with anonymous complaints and issues” with Smith’s coaching, said a former Utah State athlete, Tori Loomis, who said she felt she had been “targeted” by Smith.

Glory Yoakum, another former Utah State gymnast, posted on social media in 2021 that Smith had “degraded” her and threatened her scholarship, telling her she was a “weak link” and “didn’t want to work.” But Utah State never conducted an investigation of Smith, the university said.

In a statement, a spokesperson for the Utah State athletic department said the school regularly reviews anonymous complaints from athletes and discusses them with coaches. Smith was reviewed annually, the statement said, and “was in good standing at the end of her employment.”

Five of Smith’s athletes followed her to Clemson, which Utah State cited in its statement as an endorsement of her coaching. Clemson declined to make them available, and they did not respond to messages seeking comment.

Smith’s hiring, however, also prompted Gordon and two other Utah State athletes to speak up publicly, echoing the experiences that Yoakum had written about a year earlier.

They didn’t expect her to be fired, the athletes said. But they wanted a statement from Clemson that it would more closely monitor her program and an acknowledgment from the institutions that they said had failed to protect them. From Smith, some said, they hoped for something simple: an apology and a promise to do better.

The complaints reached the highest levels of Clemson’s athletic department, according to emails sent to and among administrators at the school. But publicly, the gymnasts’ stories were met with silence.

In a statement, a spokesperson for Clemson said the university’s hiring process included an “extensive amount of research into Coach Smith’s background,” during which Clemson “was not made aware of formal or informal investigations of Coach Smith from her previous institutions.”

“We take student-athlete treatment seriously and have confidence in Amy’s commitment to her student-athletes, as we’ve seen firsthand during her time at Clemson,” the university said.

Gill, for one, was unconvinced.

“It felt like everything we had gone through meant nothing to the people in charge, whether that was people from USU, people from Clemson,” Gill said. “We’d all spoken up and tried so hard to make things right, not necessarily to end her career but to have some kind of accountability.

“I’m just worried for the athletes that would go on to compete under her. I’m scared for them because I don’t want anyone else to experience that.”

Speaking out

From the outside, Kara Eaker and Kim Tessen were among Utah’s brightest stars. Tessen earned all-American honors in two events during her senior season of 2020; Eaker won two gold medals at the world championships with the U.S. team and was an alternate for the Tokyo Olympics. Utah is one of the country’s most legendary programs, with 10 national championships.

But under Farden, both women experienced emotional and verbal abuse, they said in public statements in October, and struggled with a “toxic” team environment that they said was created and fostered by Farden. For Eaker, the coach’s bouts of anger and “verbal attacks” felt like “a knife ... stabbed so deep in my body that there’s no way to pull it out.”

“When a male coach suddenly erupts with anger and physically slams down mats and gets up in an athlete’s face as a tactic to intimidate them, it’s impossible to have the confidence to speak up for yourself,” Eaker wrote in her statement. She sought treatment for thoughts of suicide and self-harm because of Farden’s coaching, she wrote.

Long before she went public, Eaker said in the statement, she went to the university to raise alarms about Farden’s mistreatment. This summer, in the wake of high-profile transfers by three gymnasts, the university hired law firm Husch Blackwell to investigate Farden. But the firm’s investigators found a sharp division.

Some former gymnasts described a coach who terrified them: volatile and demeaning, targeting them with regular outbursts that they said took a toll on their self-esteem and self-worth, according to investigative records and interviews with former gymnasts and their parents. Two former Utah gymnasts were hospitalized with suicidal ideations in part because of his coaching, their parents told The Post, allegations that were first reported by the Deseret News.

But “two thirds” of the current team, investigators said, described Farden’s behavior differently: He was a “caring, passionate” coach with whom they “did not report any concerns related to the treatment of student-athletes.” He had occasionally yelled at the team, some gymnasts acknowledged, but had not targeted individuals and rarely if ever crossed a line. No athletes are named in the investigation.

Some of Farden’s former gymnasts defended him to the Deseret News. Two former Utah coaches, Megan and Greg Marsden, attributed the allegations against Farden to “disgruntled” former gymnasts, the paper reported.

“He cares so much about his athletes. But he also has a fine line to toe with, you know, being a professional and delivering results while still caring. I think that he toes that line very well,” Sydney Soloski, who was on the team until last year, told the newspaper.

Investigators corroborated one “degrading” comment by Farden, in which he told a student that she would be a “nobody working at a gas station in her hometown” if she were not at the university. Andinvestigators found two allegations that Farden had thrown objects — a cellphone and a stopwatch — were “more likely than not” true. Farden denied throwing any object.

In another allegation, a gymnast told investigators she was cleaning the uneven bars when Farden “grabbed” the scraper from her and threw it at her. Three teammates who witnessed the incident told investigators that they, too, had seen Farden throw the scraper — a toilet brush attached to a wooden stick — and that it hit their teammate. One said she thought Farden acted “out of stress” because her teammate had been taking too long to scrape the bar; another said she thought he was in “panic mode.”

But the woman’s teammates also told investigators they believed Farden had been well-intentioned and, as one put it, “did not throw it to hurt the student-athlete.” Another said Farden had “chucked the scraper into oblivion” and that the athlete was “in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

The investigators eventually determined Farden had not violated any policies in the incident, citing “varying and inconsistent statements.”

The university placed Farden on a performance improvement plan following the investigation, and the school’s athletic director, Mark Harlan, said in a statement at the time that he had met with Farden to “share with him my expectations moving forward.” But he said he “remain[ed] confident in Coach Farden’s ability to continue to lead our gymnastics program.”

The division among teammates was a dynamic not isolated to Utah, multiple gymnasts told The Post. Among the things they had looked forward to the most in college gymnastics, they said, was the chance to compete as part of a team. But it was common practice in their programs, many gymnasts said, for coaches to pit athletes against each other anyway, even blaming some for team struggles.

It was a dynamic that resulted in isolation and sometimes escalated to bullying — and made it even more difficult for gymnasts to recognize and speak up against their coach’s mistreatment, they said.

Tessen and Eaker described that dynamic from their time at Utah.

“I quickly learned that the whole culture at the U of U gymnastics team was one of comparison: of each other’s skill levels, each others’ bodies, each others’ academic abilities,” she wrote in her statement. “These are clear, intentional intimidation tactics used to exert control and dominance over us.”

Some gymnasts “embraced” the dynamic created by Farden, Tessen wrote. “Those who reject it are the ones who suffer most from Tom, and even the other athletes.”

Johnson, Farden’s attorney, called Tessen’s statements “false.” In the investigation, a majority of current team members and staffers “denied observing Coach Farden target particular student-athletes with negative treatment,” investigators wrote, and there was not “sufficient evidence” to establish that he had singled out athletes.

Investigators only considered conversations that could be corroborated by outside sources, they said, and relied on Farden’s denials of what had happened. In her statement, Eaker alleged Farden’s emotional abuse had often taken place in one-on-one meetings, without anyone else present.

A university spokesperson told The Post that it stood by the findings of Husch Blackwell’s investigation.

Pushed aside

Bailey Ferrer calls it the moment the “switch flipped.” As an elite gymnast, she grew up with club coaches who screamed and punished her with rope climbs for tiny mistakes, she said. But when Ferrer reached puberty, her coach filmed one of her bar routines, then paused the video as she was watching it, she said, and pointed to her body. “You’re getting too big here and here,” she said he told her. (Her former club coach said the incident “never happened.”)

Within weeks of arriving at LSU in 2019, Ferrer said, she found a culture that seemed just as obsessed with weight as elite gymnastics. “They care about our tan, our makeup, our everything,” she said. “That’s why we’re all over social media.”

LSU is one of the country’s best teams, often finishing in the top four nationwide, but it has also risen to prominence because of the online prowess of its gymnasts: Olivia Dunne, a senior, has more than 4 million followers on Instagram, making her one of the highest-valued athletes in all of college sports.

Ferrer was successful in her first year at LSU, earning a regular spot in the bars lineup, but the program’s handling of weight began to erode at her already fragile body image.

The coach at the time, D-D Breaux, had a practice of weighing in athletes on random Wednesdays, Ferrer said, rituals that were conducted in a room with the entire team present. Ferrer became anxious about the weigh-ins, she said, because Breaux and other LSU staffers sent a clear message that any amount of weight gain was unacceptable.

When, as a freshman, the scale showed she had gained three pounds, Ferrer said she was pulled into the team nutritionist’s office for an extra body-fat scan and told her body mass index was too high. “We need to dial in on nutrition,” she said the nutritionist told her. (The nutritionist did not respond to a message seeking comment.)

To Ferrer, it made no sense: “It was halfway through the season, and I was doing the best gymnastics of my life,” she said. But she began to skip dinner on Tuesdays, anticipating she might be weighed again.

“I felt nervous because I knew whatever the number on the scale was going to be, it was going to determine my mental state for that day at least,” she said.

LSU said in a statement that across all of its sports, “weight and other health-related factors are managed with the student athlete’s performance team, which includes strength and conditioning staff, nutritionists, registered dietitians, sports medicine practitioners, and other medical professionals.”

Over the summer, while healing from ankle surgery, Ferrer said she began to restrict her eating even more severely in anticipation of returning to LSU and to weigh-ins. When she returned for sophomore year, Breaux noticed. Breaux “came over to me and said, ‘You look really good; keep doing what you’re doing,’ ” Ferrer said. “That’s when the unhealthy habits really ramped up.”

Ferrer eventually sought help for her eating disorder from a team trainer, she said, and was put into a treatment program that “saved her life,” she said. But Breaux was upset that Ferrer was not able to train, Ferrer said.

When the season started, Ferrer arrived in the locker room to find her locker was empty, without any of the gear her teammates’ were filled with. Breaux was “holding them back,” Ferrer said she was told by a staffer. Her teammates rarely spoke to her, she said, and she was not allowed to dress or be on the floor for LSU’s home meets.

Ferrer’s medical files at the time, portions of which were provided to The Post by Ferrer’s parents, record that Ferrer was “not given … apparel.” The records show Ferrer was initially excluded from meets partly on the recommendation of doctors, who wanted her to focus on her treatment. But when doctors said Ferrer could return to the floor, Breaux was resistant, the documents show.

Breaux told a trainer “it was a privilege not a right for someone to be on the floor during a competition,” the trainer’s notes show.

When Ferrer was finally told she could “dress out” for LSU’s meet against Alabama, she said, she was “so excited. I was excluded from the team, and I just wanted to feel like I was a part of it again.” Instead, the meet ended up being the last time Ferrer put on an LSU leotard.

As the team was going into the huddle before one of its events, Ferrer tried to join, she said. But Breaux put her hand on Ferrer’s shoulder and pushed her out of the huddle. Later, when the team was posing for a photograph with alumni who had attended the meet, she said Breaux told her not to get in the photo. Ferrer remembers her words, she said: “I’m done with you.”

Several of Ferrer’s teammates did not return messages seeking comment. But her teammates did tell the team trainer what happened, according to Ferrer’s medical records. “D-D told everyone to come on but pointed at Bailey and said not her,” the trainer wrote.

LSU told The Post it had addressed the incident with Breaux and Ferrer but declined to provide specifics. LSU said Breaux’s departure from her coaching role in 2020 was unrelated.

Ferrer entered the transfer portal and committed to Auburn, another gymnastics powerhouse. But days before she was set to leave — her apartment in Auburn, Ala., already rented, a photograph taken of her with Auburn gear — an Auburn doctor who reviewed her medical records would not clear her transfer. She felt forced to medically retire, Ferrer said, and spent her last two years at LSU without gymnastics.

Eating disorders are common for many young women, especially college athletes. But studies consistently find female gymnasts are at a staggeringly high risk, with a 2004 study finding 42 percent of gymnasts and other elite “aesthetic sport” athletes, such as figure skaters, had disordered eating habits, compared with 16 percent in sports like soccer or basketball.

Several gymnasts told The Post that rather than taking proactive steps to prevent eating disorders, coaches exacerbated or even created them, stoking disordered habits and adopting practices that put weight at the forefront. Asking for help, gymnasts said, could result in ostracism and bullying from coaches — or even end their careers.

As a freshman at Utah State, Tori Loomis said she became one of Amy Smith’s “very clear targets.” Particularly painful, Loomis said, was a moment a year later when, in front of the team, Smith pulled her name off a whiteboard on which she ranked gymnasts and flung it to the floor.

When she asked a group of upperclassmen how to make Smith treat her better, Loomis said, she would never forget their answer. They told her Smith “would love you if you were anorexic.” Loomis is one of three athletes who said they believed Smith had fostered a culture of disordered eating on the team.

The upperclassmen’s comments lingered in the back of Loomis’s mind as Smith frequently told her she was “out of shape,” even when she was injured. She developed a severe eating disorder, she said. “I felt like I have this scholarship looming over my head, and if these upperclassmen are telling me to do this, then this is what I need to do.”

The experience Loomis described was similar, in some ways, to the one Gordon alleged four years earlier at UNC. After a hard fall on the beam, Gordon said, a bruise on her leg worsened until it boomed dark purple and black across most of her hamstring, according to a photo she provided. According to Gordon, Smith told her, “It looks bad because your leg is fat.”

A few moments later, Gordon remembers Smith asking her, “When you look in the mirror at your body, do you like what you see?” She said she felt like there was only one answer: No.

Later, after Gordon was suspended from the team for drinking during her freshman year in 2017, she said, the head coach, Galvin, and Smith gave her an opportunity to “right her wrongs” in the form of a contract, according to a copy reviewed by The Post. But the contract did not mention drinking at all.

Instead, it required “healthy weight loss of 1-2 lbs a week.” Gordon had to agree to weekly weigh-ins and six days a week of “intense cardio.” Failure to reach those goals, the contract said, “will result in a re-evaluation of my status as a scholarship student-athlete at the University of North Carolina and may lead to my dismissal from the gymnastics team and non-renewal of my athletic grant-in-aid.”

When Galvin and Smith presented her with the contract, Gordon said, she instantly thought back to Smith’s comment about her leg. She had struggled with body image issues since her time in club gymnastics when, she said, she and her teammates had been told to run a mile for every piece of Halloween candy they ate and were forbidden from drinking water before meets.

Smith’s words were the “acknowledgment” she needed that something was wrong with her body — and the contract, Gordon said, provided a road map to “a full-blown eating disorder.” She took it.

Smith left UNC at the end of the season. But for Gordon, the scars remained, she said.

“You can’t tell a freshly 18-year-old girl that her entire scholarship and athletic career rests on her weight and not expect her to develop some sort of issue,” Gordon said. By her sophomore year, she said, “I was walking around campus as a zombie. I was so dissociated the whole time. I just had no nutrients in my body.”

Galvin said he took full responsibility for giving Gordon the contract, which he called a “mistake.” He said he had “never considered [the document] a contract” and that after administrators told him it was not enforceable, he retracted it.

“I wish I had managed Raine’s student-athlete experience differently than I did,” he said. “If I could go back now to five minutes before she’s going to walk into my office, knowing what I know now, I would never have put that piece of paper on the desk.”

Gordon said she remembered Galvin revising the contract but believed she had been given a different version that still required her to lose weight, removing only a requirement to photograph her meals and send them to the team nutritionist.

UNC declined to comment. Smith did not respond to detailed questions about Gordon or any other athletes’ allegations.

To Ferrer, it is impossible to think about her experiences in NCAA gymnastics without also thinking about her childhood in elite gymnastics, too. She is working now as an orthodontist’s assistant, and she was struck recently, she said, by a conversation with a high school freshman — around the same age Ferrer was when she committed to LSU.

Sitting in the orthodontist’s chair, the girl said, she described everything she had going on in her young life: honors classes, debate, dance lessons, dreams of being a doctor or a teacher.

At that moment, Ferrer said, she thought, “I was robbed of a childhood.” And she has realized, she said, that she was “robbed” of a college experience, too. Looking back, she said, she regretted the program she chose.

“All I can think was, ‘Is this worth it?’ A part of me says yes — I do have a college education and no debt. But part of me thinks that experience was ruined,” Ferrer said. “If I could go back as that little girl in eighth grade, I think my decision might have been different.”

#it won't let me post a link like normal for some reason sorry #this whole thing is heartbreaking to read but bailey's quote at the end really got me :(#abuse cw #ed cw #ncaa #amy smith #tom farden #dd breaux #derek galvin #glory yoakum #morgan gill #raine gordon #kara eaker #kim tessen #bailey ferrer

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