"Buried in the Shadows of the Dragon Emperor's Love"

I lay still, my swollen stomach a heavy burden on my fragile frame. My nipples ached, stiff and sensitive, as if crying out for the touch of something, anything, that could ease the primal longing building within me. Nine months pregnant with multiple dragon eggs, my body felt like it was screaming for release, for the sweet relief of motherhood. But for now, I was trapped, a prisoner of my own vulnerabilities. My artificial placenta, attached to my feeding tube, hummed softly against my skin, a gentle reminder of the fragile hold I had on life. Born prematurely, I had never known the warmth of a womb, only the sterile cold of a hospital incubator. My blindness, a result of my fragile beginnings, had become a familiar shroud, one that wrapped around me like a comforting blanket. But it was not just my physical senses that were dulled; my mind, too, was clouded by the fog of autism spectrum disorder. The world was a cacophony of sounds, a maelstrom of textures and tastes that threatened to overwhelm me at every turn. And yet, with Hange by my side, the Dragon Emperor and Yakuza Prince, I felt a sense of peace, a sense of belonging. As I lay there, I felt the warmth of Hange's body, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. I was tucked away, safely ensconced beneath his shirt, my hypersensitive ears blocked from the outside world's assault. His heartbeat, a soothing drumbeat, pulsed against my ear, a lullaby that calmed my frazzled nerves. But even as I felt safe, the specter of abandonment lurked, a ghost that haunted my every waking moment. My father, a stranger to me, had left when I was just a baby, leaving me to navigate the world's cruelties alone. Separation anxiety, a constant companion, gnawed at my gut, making my skin crawl with fear. I whimpered, a soft, needy sound, and Hange's arms tightened around me, holding me close. "Shh, my love," he whispered, his voice a gentle breeze that soothed my frayed edges. "You're safe. I'll never leave you." I buried my face deeper into his shirt, the fabric a soft, comforting cocoon that shielded me from the world's harsh realities. His scent, a heady mix of spice and smoke, enveloped me, a potent reminder of his love. And yet, even as I felt secure, a nagging sense of unease lingered. My mind, a jumble of emotions and thoughts, wrestled with the memories of my past, of the pain and the fear that lingered. As a newborn, mentally, I was still learning, still growing, still trying to make sense of this strange, bewildering world. But one thing was clear: I loved Hange, and he loved me. We were bound together, a bond that transcended words, a connection that spoke to the very heart of me. And as I lay there, surrounded by the shadows of his love, I knew I was home, safe in the arms of the Dragon Emperor, my beloved Hange.