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#though… he looks quite happy just being there
extemts · 2 days
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Since you asked, I will be here kindly dropping an ask for a request to write something for Joost.
Do you do sweet jealousy? Where the reader is jealous? Nothig toxic obviously 😂
For example where now that he is gaining more love from people, and thus more attention from girls too, the reader pouts when he talks to this girl who approached him and she is a bit more touchy feely with him? While she is understanding and happy for him, naturally the jealousy can't be hold back.
Or whip something up that just flows from your imagination 😌
Thank you in advance!
Mwah 💋
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Well, my boyfriends pretty cool, you will never reach him.
I love this one!! I always think about this ngl. People cross boundaries a lil too much, so this is your reminder to be aware of your surroundings.
requested? yes!
reader? gender neutral!
genre? jealousy, eventual fluff
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Cold post show beers, breezy hangouts behind the venue, thank you's being exchanged, it was all routine at some point. After his shows someone would get some cold beer while the crew enjoyed the nice breeze outside the venue after the show, just for everyone to cool down, especially Joost. You however stayed rather quiet today, your red hands wrapping around the ice cold bottle, the look in your eyes rather empty as you stare at your boyfriend and those girls next to him.
Unfortunately the area behind the venue seemed to be easily accessible to everyone, and while you were always happy for him to have fans that care so much, it would get hard to watch from time to time. He would never decline a photo with a fan, or an autograph, even the countless gifts he regularly got unless he was genuinely unwell, but the dutch singer was still high on adrenaline and already quite drunk, so he basically welcomed the group of girls with open arms, ready to listen to them. Typically this would really never be an issue, most people knew about your relationship and always supported it, even though you never made it public, so sometimes you were even asked to be in the photo along with them, but this particular group of girls seemed to be completely oblivious to the concept of personal space. One of them seemed particularly interested in him- she must have been your age aswell, at least the tattoos you could see on her body told you quite clearly that she was a grown woman. If it would have been a fourteen year old fangirl or something, you might have been able to excuse it.
There she stood, that grin on her face as she runs her fingers over the tattoos on Joost's arm, talking about how he looks oh so good with them. She kept getting more physical in subtle yet somehow obvious ways, to the point where he started looking awfully uncomfortable too, especially by the time he shot a glance at you only to see that pout and the empty look in your eyes as you stare at them. "Any plans after the show? You must be celebrating the end of your tour. I know a really cool club just around the corner, maybe I'll see you there." she eventually let her fingers drift off of his arm as she gives him one last little wave before leaving with her friends, still giggling carelessly like she didn't have a worry in the world. Once he was free of her again, you felt Joost sitting down next to you, your eyes piercing through the ground until he wrapped his arm around you, making you look up at him again. "I'm sorry sweetheart, some people don't know boundaries..." he whispers as not to pull the attention of the rest of the crew on you, somehow making the accent in his voice even more prominent by doing so. He leans in and starts posting soft kisses along your jawline, knowing damn well this is a ticklish spot for you.
It cheered you up, made you chuckle again before pushing his face away with your hand, trying to break free from the tickling feeling. "Now don't just push me away!" he starts acting all offended, gasping at your behavior before he goes right back to attacking your face with a swarm of soft little pecks all over, his arms wrapped around you so you truly have no way of escaping, if you even wanted that.
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okaaaay lets go
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fraugwinska · 2 days
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Hey! Me again!
Could I get an Alastor x Female reader where she tells him she's pregnant, he's so stunned he thinks it a joke until she shows him the positive on the test and it shocks him to the core but after the initial shock he's overjoyed.
My dear jezebel <3 Thank you for being so patient! I took a few liberties from the ask, I really hope you don't mind! After a lot of rewrites and edits - I'm finally happy to share it with you! Thank you for the ask, my dearest! TW:Sickness&death-Light smut-Minors DNI-5.2k words
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Autumn had always been your favorite season.
The most colorful of the four; from your bed you could always see various shades of red, orange, green and yellow, all mixed together to create a vibrant, warm impressionistic painting. Just looking at the bright shades outside had always made you smile.
There was also this peaceful ambiance around autumn that you could feel but not quite understand. Something so profound and yet ephemeral in a way.
"Should I close the window before I go?", Alice asked you, a sad smile on her face. Your favorite hospice nurse had spent her last shift before her holiday almost exclusively with you - somehow you both knew there wasn't much time left. The sickness that ate away at your body was unforgiving - you knew it was simply a matter of days now, and even that was generous. Alice must've sensed it, too.
"No, no.", you replied with a warm smile. "Leave it open. The night nurse can close it later."
Alice nodded, said her goodbyes and gave you a kiss on the head before exiting the room, carefully closing the heavy wooden door with a thud of painful finality. Breathing had become painful lately, but despite the sting you inhaled deeply, just to burn the smell of bristle leafs and warm wood into your memory. Right next to the memory of him.
Alastor.
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Summoning him hadn't been easy, especially since you were bedridden and almost constantly monitored. Not only did you have to take special care of choosing the right night to be left unsupervised - you had to bribe Alice and make her believe it was her own idea to give you a few hours to be on your own, which you claimed to need desperately. The internet had been your biggest friend in the weeks before, preparing - you had used the time you had at your disposal to research on shady websites and occult forums who to summon, how to do the ritual and, in case he said no, which bargain to offer. And you chose Alastor.
It was the name that spoke to you the most - Unusual. Mature. Vintage. Mysterious. Powerful and yet gentle, in it's own way. 'Mans defender'. 'Avenger'. The more you read about him on dubious servers and obscure wiki's, the more you were sure it should be him. Still able to use your hands back then, in the chosen night you managed to follow all of the instructions perfectly, even while bound to your bed. When the living shadow appeared out of nowhere, twisting and contorting into the shape of a tall, handsome, dapper dressed demon, the tiny handheld radio you had in your hands slid from your weakened grip and your heart skipped a beat. As he stepped nearer, the perceived humanity of his appearance disappeared before your eyes - long, black fingers ending in red talons, small antlers sitting in between fluffy crimson-colored ears, razor-sharp teeth and blood-red irises shining with curiosity. He stopped just a foot away in front of your bed. As he began to talk, to introduce himself - as though being summoned by gravely sick human women were the norm - you stopped him with a raise of your hand, the action draining your already weakened body and mind.
"I know who you are. Alastor, the Radio Demon."
"My reputation precedes me, then!", he chimed, his voice pointed, melodic and so enchantingly and contradictorily full of life. His whole posture, his devious smile and the way his eyes glinted in the dim moonlight made it very clear that he was a dangerous creature, and yet, you felt strangely at ease.
"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this summoning, my dear?"
You swallowed hard, knowing full well that if you wanted him to accept your deal, you needed to choose your words carefully.
"I... I am dying."
Alastor's grin twitched, but he said nothing, only tilted his head and waited for you to continue, hands folded behind his back.
"I've been sick my whole life, I...", you felt the need to explain, so that your offer wouldn't sound so... well, pitiful.
"Ever since I was born, I have been bound first to my crib, then to a bed, the hospital and now this hospice. I have never been allowed or even able to go to school, or make friends, or just... do things that children ought to do. Even though my life was always going to be short lived."
You could feel tears forming in your eyes, but blinked them away - you didn't want to cry in front of him, you felt pathetic as you were already. "I missed out on every milestone, every first experience a girl should have. First trip to a park, first day at school, first friend, first kiss, first... everything. And I'll miss out on so many more. I just want to have one normal thing, one 'first' before I die. One memory of a real and happy experience. Of something good."
"And what, pray tell, would that be?", he asked, a brow raised, his smile growing wider. He could probably hear the beating of your heart as you took a deep breath. This was it. Now or never.
"I want to lose my virginity."
The silence following your calmly stated confession was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. It took a while for Alastor to say something.
"Oh my, you really don't mince words, do you, darling?"
You shook your head.
"I have no time to waste. Every second counts."
"Believe me, little one, I'm quite... flattered that you'd go through the trouble of a summoning ritual for this... let's call it: venture. But... why me? Aren't there any men up here you would rather be with?"
"Have you looked at me?", you laughed bitterly. "I'm a sick, dying 20-something in a hospice bed. No man would ever so much as touch me. If I'd even get to meet anyone, since I can't get out of this bed anymore without a nurse. I have nothing to offer a partner anymore. No beauty, no future, not even money. I have only my soul. Please."
The last word came out as a whisper. Alastor's eyes glowed red in the growing darkness, his grin ever-present. He seemed to consider it for a moment, the sound of humming static the only sound in the room and you feared he might reject you.
"If I were to agree, would you truly be willing to pay the price for it? Your soul, darling, is a very precious thing. Do you know the implications of it's loss?"
You nodded.
"Yes. You can have it. It's not worth anything anyway."
Alastor stepped forward, his eyes locked with yours. He didn't sit down on the bed, instead he stood right beside you, bending over until his face was just inches from yours, the back of his hand lightly brushing your fringe out of your face. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the scent of blood and something earthy, like wet soil or moss. He smelled like a forest in autumn.
"It is worth quite a bit, actually. More than you can imagine, I'd wager.", his voice was quiet, almost unfiltered and utterly beautiful. "But I can see you are dead set on it - Pardon the wordplay."
His sharp claw pressed into your skin, eliciting a gasp. He followed the curve of your cheek to your chin, lifting it to better access the side of your neck, just under your jaw. Your skin broke out in goosebumps because for the first time in your life, you felt a touch that was not clinical, not meant to treat you or wastefully bide you more time. This touch was gentle and purposeful. Sensual, maybe. A soft sigh escaped you against your will.
Alastor let out a hum that was not entirely unhappy, before bringing his face dangerously close to yours. You could feel the ends of his fluffy hair tickling your face, the tip of his nose lightly brushing against your skin.
"A happy memory, you say. One satisfying experience in return for your soul. I am certainly not usually known for my kindness, dear.", he muttered against the skin of your cheek, before turning towards your lips. So close. Your heart was beating as loud and as fast as it could, making you dizzy. "But I think we have ourselves a deal."
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The golden hour has passed, turning bright orange light into fading blue to black. And the air was turning colder. The memory of that night was the only thing you thought about as you slowly felt death approaching.
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The way his lips felt against your mouth, his tongue and the sweet taste he left on your lips that still lingered whenever you ran yours across them, recalling the sensation just once more. He had been gentle, patient, always asking and never assuming or forceful. He made sure you were comfortable before exploring you, careful in the places he touched, mindful in tasting you, praising you for the sounds you made. He allowed you to do your share of exploring, too, and although he wasn't human you found his body still wonderfully, beautifully male, no matter his thin, soft taupe fur and his many, shimmering scars. The memory of the moment when he had finally filled you, tender and slow, was as much sweet pain as it was blissful pleasure, and you found solace in his warmth and the steady, rhythmic pace of him moving inside you as you spilled his name, over and over again until he spent himself inside you, bodies deeply connected. It was hard for you to believe that all of it had been actually true, and not just one big fever dream your dying mind had cooked up to send you off gently when Alice woke you from your sleep later that night, wondering aloud why you didn't turn off the little, handheld radio on the floor that was still playing soft jazz music.
But the little, red and blue marks on your collarbones and the one red-and-black strand of hair you had found on your pillow were telltale signs that everything had been indeed real, and you made sure every detail was etched into your heart, into your body and into your skin. It was, and would remain forever, the happiest moment of your entire life.
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'I hope my soul is worth enough...' you thought as the coldness finally embraced you, tears running freely down your cheeks now, but the smile on your face was wide and warm, and the last thing you heard before falling into your final sleep was the gentle hum of a breeze that brought in the smell of earth and rain and leaves.
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Alastor had no need for sleep. He usually didn't spend his nights sitting in his favorite chair, motionless, listening to music. He was far too busy, too full of life and plans and energy to sit around and just wait for morning. And yet, there he was, sitting and brooding for the last month, every night, his ears tuned in on the low, static-y noise coming from the old-fashioned radio he was holding. A radio eerily similar to hers.
'How did it come to this?', he wondered for the thousandth time, like a broken record. 'Why did I do it?'
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He couldn't fathom the reason for his actions that night, why he had given in to the strange, frivolous request of the frail young woman. Why he had agreed to take her virginity, of all things, in exchange for her soul. Granted, she wasn't the first to offer him that, not by far. But usually, the soul was the last thing a sinner offered, after a great many things of lesser value had been already offered and declined in return. It was, in essence, the most desperate measure, taken only by those who had nothing else to lose.
And yet, she had promised him her soul in the very beginning, treating it not as a valuable bargaining chip, but as an expendable object. A thing without use or worth. He didn't know what had intrigued him so much that night. She had been sickly and fragile, her skin almost translucent in the pale light, and yet there was a spark in her eye. Determination, maybe. Her voice had been strong, if quiet, and her smile, although sad, was still familiarly bright. The way she spoke and her body language had made it clear that she had been not as much afraid of him, despite her frail and vulnerable position, as she had been anxious about his response. She was clearly clever and resolute, despite her lack of personal experience. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to follow through the summoning ritual.
"I have nothing to offer a partner anymore. No beauty, no future, no money. O only have my soul. Please."
He couldn't remember a single instance where someone had begged him with the simple word please and he gave into it. And yet, he had accepted her plea - The whole of her soul, in exchange for a meager, single moment of ridiculous passion. The mere thought had repulsed him before: Body on body, blunt thumps of fleshes, debauched obscenities... it was something that had never held his interest. He felt like it was something unrefined and animalistic, something he had always regarded as unnecessary and obsolete. Until then.
Her body had responded so eagerly, so sensitive, so ready to his touches. It had been clear she hadn't lied about her virginity, and yet her eagerness, her fearlessness had surprised him. Acting solely based on instinct and the morals he was brought up with, no real experience of his own himself, he had tried to be as careful and gentle as he could, and somehow, her inexperience had made it... easier. She was not expecting anything in terms of skill, and thus he had to guide her through the process, allowing him to set the pace and giving him ample time to react to her reactions. Sweet gasps, subtle tremors, faint flushes - all of which had told him how she had felt, what had been pleasurable and what had been uncomfortable. He had been able to take his time and make sure she enjoyed herself. It had been fascinating and even... pleasurable for him, too.
Despite the obvious pain, she had kept her eyes open, watching his face intently as they connected. He had felt the warmth and the tension around him, and her little, breathy gasps had been such pleasant sounds that when she had finally found her release, it had triggered his own, foreign as it had been. She had sighed his name in pure bliss, and in that moment he had felt as powerful and as satisfied as the night he had gained his title as Radio Demon.
And when the deed had been done, the girl had smiled so serenely, he was sure he had rarely ever seen anything that could rival her in beauty.
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Alastor shifted uncomfortably at that thought, trying to will away the memory and the sensation that the mere thought of her smile invoked.
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It had taken a few minutes, but eventually he had collected himself and put his clothes back on. Her eyes had followed him, the spark back in them and even brighter than before, her smile not faltering even when her tired lids had drooped down, slowly lulling her to sleep. Alastor had stood there, in the small, plain hospice room, watching her for a while, a strange feeling in his chest. The deal hadn't been solidified by a handshake, her soul not yet firmly bound to him and the contract void if not officially sealed, but he couldn't bring himself to wake her. Something had stopped him.
The memory of her face, pale and beautiful, smiling so peacefully even in her slumber, made the corners of his lips twitch. She would've made a magnificent addition to his collection of souls. And yet, and yet... He had decided then and there that her soul would find its way to him, eventually. But not through the proposed deal. So, he had left, the exchange unfulfilled, the pact broken, turning on the small radio she had let slip onto the floor just as he heard her caretaker returning to check on her.
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'Oh, how the mighty have fallen.', he mused bitterly, a small laugh escaping his lips.
"Alastor?"
Charlie's voice was a mix of concern and curiosity, muffled by the thick, wooden door of his room. She sounded worried, probably wondering why he had excused himself from the hotel's interactions more and more for the past weeks. He was about to ignore her, not in the mood to talk to anyone, especially not her, persistent thing that she was, but when her soft knock followed her call, his smile widened tightly and his eyes flashed red.
"Charlie, dear, I'm afraid I'm not available at the moment.", he called out, his tone a bit sharper than usual.
"Sorry, but...", the princess sounded hesitant, and he could hear her shuffle awkwardly outside. "It's just... There is someone in the lobby, wanting to speak to you. It seems... important."
He got up from his chair with an annoyed sigh and switched off the radio, straightened his clothes and smoothed out his hair and bow tie with one swipe. Whatever business matter was brought forward, Alastor didn't feel like discussing it. The smile he wore was razor sharp and dark, a result of his annoyance and brooding mood, and yet he couldn't bring himself to feign his cheery personality just quite yet. Maybe this mystery visitor would be a suitable punching bag to let off some of that steam.
When Alastor finally opened the door and walked down to the lobby next to a flustered looking Charlie, his breath hitched involuntarily and he froze mid-stride. Charlie stumbled at the sudden lack of motion next to her, the deafening static sound and the chime-like tuning of a radio startling her so much she flinched away from him.
"H-Hey Al!?", she called in shock, "Are you okay?"
He didn't move, didn't even react - his attention was solely focused on the figure standing at the front-desk, who, just a moment ago, had talked to Husker before turning around upon hearing him.
Hell kept her skin white and almost translucent in it's spite, but granted her soft, shimmering silvery fur in it's mercy. Her frame wasn't thin and frail anymore, she looked plush and healthy, soft curves where there had been nothing more than skin and bone before. Keeping almost all of her human features intact, the small, round ears protruding from her hair, the pink-tipped nose and the long and slender tail were definitely characteristics of a dormouse, their ends almost silver and soft-looking. Her eyes were of the same gentle color that he remembered, and when her lips spread into a sad, tender smile his breath was stolen away completely.
It was the same smile. The very one he hadn't been able to purge from his mind, and most likely never would.
"Alastor."
The sound of her voice, quiet and melodic as it had been weeks before, felt like an invisible touch that pulled the air out of him. Not enough to suffocate him, but he was still reeling none the less.
"So you finally succumbed, it seems..."
His usual bravado was absent, his voice lacked it's sharp, jovial tone, sounding more like he was actually talking. Charlie could do little more but watch with widened eyes, seemingly unable to fathom the scene right in front of her.
"What are you talking about, Alastor? How do you know...", the princess spoke carefully and uncertain, her eyes wandering from one demon to another, but she was quickly interrupted, not by him, but by...
"It's a long story better told another time, Miss Charlie.", she said with a genuine smile on her face, still not able to take her eyes off Alastor. She took a few tentative steps towards him, careful, but certain in her movement, a confidence about her that hadn't been there before. Her head tilted in an enigmatic way and she spoke again, this time solely directed at him.
"I'm truly sorry to impose. But I was hoping we could talk... privately."
Alastor nodded mutely, not able to think clearly, before taking a deep breath and straightening his back to tower over her once again. Husk seemed to notice his shift in composure, raising a brow when he passed him by on his way back behind the bar, noticing the strangely satisfied looking smile on Alastor's face that was as unnerving and frightening as always, but with a different tint that even Husk must've trouble placing guessing by the suspicious look that fell over the cat's face.
"Of course, my dear, my office will suffice. If you'll excuse us, Charlotte? We'll be only a short while."
He didn't wait for her response but took his guest by her arm and guided her past an astonished Husk and clearly confused Charlie, leading the girl down the hall and to his office, the air between them thick with something undefinable, and neither of them dared to speak until the heavy mahogany door fell shut, effectively cutting off all outside interference.
Her cheeks were flushed when she stepped closer towards him. The tips of his claws brushed against her fringe, following the curve of her soft ear, across the back of her delicate neck to pluck a strand of her hair, pulling it towards him and running the silky fiber between two fingers and over the pad of his thumb, bringing it to his lips with a deep, pleased inhale.
She looked up at him, her smile shy but hopeful.
"You remember me.", she said with a chuckle, her voice a bit higher, her ears twitching and her tail swaying behind her, showing her emotions all too easily. Alastor nodded, not letting go of her hair just yet.
"How could I not, dear. It's not common for me to leave a contract unsettled, you know."
"I had a feeling that might've been the case, since it took me so long to find you.", she said quietly. "So, my soul..."
"... is still yours, yes."
She wasn't looking at him, directly. Her gaze went over his suit, to his hands and cane, then back to the floor.
"Why?", she asked, a hint of confusion and hurt in her voice, her silken hair slipping from his fingers.
"Why didn't you claim it? You had every right, after all. I offered, you agreed and..."
Alastor didn't speak, couldn't speak. The answer was right on the tip of his tongue, and yet he wasn't sure if he wanted to share it. It felt... strange, and foreign, and not quite comfortable. But it was undeniably true, now - with her in front of him - clearer than any time in the last weeks in his chair, each night, in front of the fireplace.
He wanted her. Not just her soul. Her. So, he settled on silence and a half-truth, instead.
"It wasn't the right time, dear."
Her face turned to him, her eyes searching his. He felt exposed, like her eyes were piercing him.
"And now...?"
"That remains to be seen. Why are you here?", he countered, stepping back to put a more comfortable distance between them.
"I came to see you, because..." She swallowed hard, and Alastor watched her throat, the soft swell of her breasts under her modest blouse, the slight rise of her belly. "When I arrived in hell, I felt... weird. I thought it was because of all the changes, this new body and... generally being here. But it didn't go away, this.... feeling. I made friends with a lovely imp couple, they took me in after I fell. The wife, Millie, took me to a doctor because she got worried when I couldn't stop throwing up..."
Her face grew hot, a flush spreading across her cheeks, her ears folding back against her head.
"Alastor, I'm pregnant."
A loud bang rang through the hallway as Alastor dropped his cane and a deafening feedback noise filled the room. For the first time in what must have been decades, his face betrayed him completely, the smile ripping at the sewn edges as it dropped violently. He felt dizzy and his head was spinning.
"Impossible.", he breathed, the word almost getting stuck in his throat. The very notion was ridiculous, unheard of - clearly that must be a crude joke. Alastor started to laugh, though sounding not as amused and booming as he would've hoped, but more hysterical than anything else.
She stayed silent, looking at him with sad, but serious and almost pleading eyes as the truthfulness of her confession began to sink in and his laughter slowly died. He took a tentative step forward, a million questions running through his head, the sheer amount overwhelming his usually so precise mind.
"So, a month ago, it...", he stopped, feeling the corners of his mouth pull wider.
"...yes. The doctor told me there are only a handful similar cases like this known since hell was created... The circumstances are 'too specific' and it normally takes a vast amount of intimate interactions' between a hellbound sinner and a living, fertile human he said... Seems like you knocked me up with one round, buster." She wrung her hands, her smile forced and unsure. "Listen, Alastor... I know it sounds impossible. I mean, I couldn't believe it at first when he told me so I understand you can't, too... but I don't expect anything, I really don't. I just... I wanted to see you again, and-and you deserve to know, and..."
"Darling, hush.", Alastor interrupted, a sense of clarity taking hold of his chaotic mind. He had never felt a desire for a family, not in his lifetime nor in his death. Partners were liabilities and a distraction, relationships nuisances if they strayed beyond the borders of business or at the very most friendly aquaintances. He had no need for things like these in the past, looking down on people desperate to seek out partners, claiming to be lonely when in truth they were just weak or simply starving for a touch of the 'opposite sex' to make up for their own inadequacy.
Now, faced with the reality of fatherhood in a matter of minutes and the prospect of his life being bound to another - one who, undoubtedly, bore his child, no less - Alastor would be lying if he had claimed a part of him didn't absolutely reel at the prospect. A responsibility greater than his own had just fallen into his lap - a vulnerability he never asked for and certainly didn't expect.
But.
A part of him would come into the world, no matter whether it would look human, or demonic like him, or whatever strange combination of them both: This child would be proof of him. Him, not anyone else. There would be a person dependent on him for guidance and protection, a legacy he would be allowed to leave, a lineage that could one day claim that he, Alastor, had been the founding cause. His legacy. His blood and his seed had created another being against all rules and logic, an offspring, maybe a girl, maybe it would resemble him, or her, or even... his mother.
Despite the incredulity and the sheer panic the revelation brought, the longer he looked at the tiny dormouse in front of him, the more he realized how similar her traits were to his own mother's. Soft, but determined. Sad, but brave. Young but aged.
No, this hadn't been just some fleeting fling - Alastor had to believe in fate, given what she told him. There had been a reason why he didn't seal the deal that night. Why he had agreed to her request so easily. The more Alastor thought about the potential of a shared offspring, along with a loyal partner on his side, about the what-ifs and could-bes, the more appealing and pleasant the future appeared. She was carrying a being he created, one that had his essence – All the more stronger his grin widened, stretching so far it caused his cheeks to ache, but his blooming glee knew no bounds. He saw, to his own surprise, not a weakness or vulnerability.
But his greatest achievement.
With a laugh, this time sincere and booming and loud instead of hysterical, he picked her up on her waist, knocking the air out of her in a gasp, and swung her around several times.
"O-oh! Oh my goodness!", she stuttered, eyes wide and brows furrowed. "Alastor, calm down!"
"Oh, no no no, I simply can't! Dear, do you have any idea what a marvel you have wrought!?", he exclaimed in delight, setting her back down and bringing both hands up to her cheeks. "We've created a magnificent abomination!"
Her head shook as she chuckled, still nervous but with an edge of relief in her voice. "That's certainly one way of saying it. But... are... are you saying that... you are okay with it? That you..."
"What, dear?", he cooed, her big eyes shining hopefully as her ears twitched curiously. His chest swelled with affection, and he gently squeezed her cheeks between his hands.
"Does a daddy on your side scare you, darling?"
"N-No-oh."
The title invoked a peculiar reaction, and he made a mental note to use it again soon enough, as her cheeks flushed in a dusty rose. Alastor felt an unfamiliar and somehow primal pleasure at the sight of it, a surge of happiness in his chest, the warmth of it nearly too much. He pulled her face against his, smothering her with a kiss. He wasn't familiar with such embraces, but she felt like she was specifically molded to fit perfectly into him, her ears flicking with every beat of her racing heart.
There were tears welling in her beautiful eyes, and as he kissed her cheeks and brushed them away with his thumbs. Oh yes, Alastor was filled with a new kind of giddy excitement.
"Come on, dear, let's not waste time to spread the good news!", he exclaimed, unable to reign his euphoric mood, and before she could comment on his actions, he reached out and lifted her over his shoulder in one fluid movement, ignoring her startled squawk. The look of utter bewilderment on her face almost made him break out into more laughter, but he was already out the door, ready to take his child's mother, who was, without a doubt in his mind, bound to him forever with a force much stronger than any deal he could've made, downstairs to tell the news to his fellow friends, who would have no choice but to learn what a truly dangerous deal looked like.
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catch1ngmoths · 9 hours
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Hi ok so I was wondering if you can do a comfort fic with joost? Like joost sees readers past SH scars and reader really hates them and finds them disgusting but joost just kisses readers wrist and reader just starts bawling 😔🫶 if this makes u uncomfortable you don’t have to write it I won’t be upset! 🫶🫶🫶
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ STRAWBERRY GASHES⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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𝄞⨾“Watch me falter, Your living like a disaster. She said kill me faster with strawberry gashes all over” - jack off Jill𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋
Summary: you have self harm scars but you’ve never told your boyfriend, Joost. One day you forget about the scars and wear somthing that reveals them. Much to your surprise Joost isn’t as disgusted in them as you are.
Note: thank you for all the love on my last fic, I am currently running on….0 hours of sleep and it’s like 1pm where I live so I’m pretty exhausted so this will probably be my last fic for today unless I get bored! Also!! I see all y’all’s requests and even though I don’t respond right away doesn’t mean I’m ignoring them or don’t see them! I like to respond to the request with the fic so you won’t know I saw it until the actual fic comes out! ^_^
Warnings: SELF HARM TW!! other then that just comfort and fluff >~<
༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆。˚ ༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆。˚ ༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆。˚
You and Joost had been together for a few months and everything was going great! He loved you more than anyone else ever could, even if they tried. He held you when you felt anxious or upset. Felt excited with you when you were happy and made sure you were always take care of. Always.
But there was one thing you hid from him, something that ate you alive every single day. Joost always questioned with a chuckle why you wore long sleeves in 90 degree weather but you just shrugged it off, saying you were always cold. That was a lie, you were sweating but you were also hiding something that’d hurt you a little more than a little sweat.
Your old sh scars. You struggled with it on a daily basis, sure they were old but they still managed to haunt you. You felt disgusted by yourself everytime you caught glimpses of them and you were sure Joost would too. I mean…who would want a partner that has scars like that.?
Today was the day you find out because being to caught up in excitement to hang out with Joost you forgot about the scars that littered your arms (or anywhere else, so so sorry to be so an inclusive ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀)) you put on a pair of your favorite shorts and shirt and head out the door to joosts place, not even looking twice.
Once you arrive, an equally excited Joost greats you and drags you to his room. You weren’t even thinking about it, so in love with your boyfriend to even care. He didn’t even notice either, finding every part of you perfect…until.
Until you lifted your arm in a certain way, that put your scars on full display. You noticed that Joost stoped mid speaking and looked over to him to see his face that was full of emotion that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It was a mix of sadness, confusion, fear, and shock.
You look at him confused until your eyes follow his that were deadpan staring right at your scars. You gasp softly and cover your scars, sitting up immediately. You felt ringing in your ears and your heart rate quickening. You lower your head and feel the tears of shame and embarrassment start to burn in your eyes.
You feel the touch of your beloveds soft fingertips grab your hand, interlocking y’all’s fingers and pulling your arm towards him. You keep your head down and squeeze your eyes shut trying to block everything out.
When you suddenly felt soft kisses on the places your scars were spread. Your eyes snap open and your head raises to look at Joost. He presses soft and gentle kisses on every.singe.scar. He makes sure to press 3 to each one for good measure.
Your heart feels heavy and you just burst into tears, Joost is close to tears as well. Once hes done you immediately jump into his arms, he strokes your back and whispers soft words of praise to you waiting for you to calm down.
Once you’re calmer, only small tears flowing down your wet cheeks he props you in his lap and holds you close. “I knew something was up when you kept wearing all those long sleeves..” he whispers almost kicking himself for not noticing sooner.
“I-I’m sorry… they’re old I promise!! A-and I just didn’t want you to see because they’re ugly and i just didn’t-” your cut off by a soft kiss being pressed to your lips. “Shh…you don’t have to give any explanation or reason unless you want to, okay?” He speaks with that signature smile that you loved so dearly
“You’re…you’re not disgusted.?” You ask looking up at him, he almost looks exasperated at your words. His eyes widening and mouth parting. “Disgusted.?! Why the hell would I be disgusted mijn geliefde, you’re so beautiful to me. Everything about you, even your scars.” He says with a soft smile and a kiss to your head.
“They’re gross, I ruined my skin and now they’re gonna be there forever…” you argue as you lower your head back down and play with his fingers, “so? Who cares, first of all they’re not gross, they’re not disgusting, you’re not ugly and will never be ugly. You’re not ruined and they just show how much of a fighter you are baby. Nothing to be ashamed about, promise.” He says interlocking your pinkies together
You smile and giggle softly, tears still staining your cheeks which Joost quickly kissed away making you laugh and push his head away, “Joost that tickles!!” You squeal as he smiles and peppers ticklish kisses over your face.
You knew no matter what you looked like or what happened or hell even what you went through he would always be there for you. He would forever and always be your biggest supporter. He loved you for you and nothing less.
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Leave My Wife Alone (Art Donaldson)
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Description: Y/N wants to Retire but Tashi isn’t okay with that.
Word Count: 753
Request: If you’re still taking requests could you write a fic for Art Donaldson pls: where he’s married to the reader who is a retired tennis player who Tashi became a huge fan of during college, when YN retires Tashi becomes bitter that she did and tries to pressure her into coming out of it, and it makes Art so upset that he confronts her about her about bothering his wife and her obsession with her life
Y/N Donaldson was a famous name through Tennis. Well Y/N Y/L/N was but when her and Art got married she changed her last name to his. The Donaldsons. They both were big tennis players, loved throughout the community. Tashi Duncan was Y/N’s biggest fan. They met in College and Y/N was surprised that when she faced off against Tashi she was a good sport about it.
Tashi was known for not being a good sport but since she was a huge Y/N fan she was honored. Thus began the friendship that they have now. Tashi and Y/N always talked about Tennis. It was their favorite Topic. When Y/N and Art got married Tashi was her maid of honor. “I want to retire.” She told Art as they ate dinner. Art was playing a challenger so they were at a luxury Hotel. “Are you sure?” He asked. She nodded.
“Yup. I’m 32 years old. I think this is it for me and I want to start a family.” The last part made him smile. Art always wanted kids but figured it would be best to wait for the right time. “Whatever you do I’ll support. I just don’t know about Tashi.” Tashi was gonna be heartbroken. “Well I’m sure she’ll understand.” Y/N said not believing her own words. “Will she though?” Art asked unsure. “I mean you’re still playing.” “Yeah but she doesn’t care about Art Donaldson, she cares about Y/N Donaldson.”
She smiles at the use of his last name after her first. She loved it. “I will tell her when the time is right.” Y/N said and got up with her plate. No time was right. They both knew that. As she was washing her plate she felt Art behind her. His breath was hitting her neck, “So is it too early to start thinking about a baby?” He asked. She giggled and turned around to face him, “Never.” She said and kissed him. He lifted her up onto the table and smiled against her lips. 
“So I’ve been thinking a lot about this and I want to retire.” She shut her eyes tight after she Tashi. Tashi felt the world stop. This was her biggest fear. Since she couldn’t play Tennis anymore, Y/N was her way in. “No. You can’t.” She said. “Tashi, I’m 32 now and I want a family.” “You have a family. You don’t need to quit Tennis for that.” Y/N looked at her as she ranted. “I mean you’re the best Tennis player right now, why stop now?”
“Tashi I understand but-” “If I could still play I would. I would have never thrown it away.” “Tashi I’m not throwing it away. Wait, is that what this is about? You can’t play Tennis so I should?” “No, I just think you still have a lot of years left in you.” “Art is still playing.” Y/N said. “Art is nowhere near as good as you are. I care about Y/N Donaldson not Art Donaldson.” 
Art was pissed. He knew that Tashi was going to be this way but he still had a little hope that she would be a good friend. “I mean she said that you shouldn’t quit because she never got the chance to play like this?” He asked. “It was implied.” Art was so mad at Tashi for implying that. It was sickening. He was wide awake when Y/N went to sleep. He stared at the ceiling as he thought about what Tashi said to his wife. How could she? Y/N was a great player but she deserved to be happy and not have Tennis be her life forever.
He got up quietly and took his phone with him. He went to Tashi’s contact and hit call. He waited as it rang. “Hello?” She answered. “Listen, I understand that you didn’t get your big dreams of Tennis but that does not mean Y/N has to suffer for it. What you said today was so uncool and you aren’t a very good friend.
You only care about Tennis and you are so obsessed with her career that it’s gonna kill you when she retires because you’ll have nothing left. You only care about one thing and it’s Tennis not her well being or anything like that. Just Tennis. It’s Pathetic Tashi.” He said and hung up the phone. He sighed and went back to the bedroom. He got in bed and could actually fall asleep. Though he wasn’t ready for what Tashi was gonna say tomorrow.
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dyns33 · 3 days
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Only wastelands part 2
Here's part 2 of my Cooper Howard x Reader ! I think it will be a story in 4 parts at the end, but I'm not sure yet.
Tags : @one-of-thewalkingdead @coolrobloxkid28 @thebumbqueen @rachmari @ilyvia @justme12200 @honeybunhottie @savanahc @gobbodoggo @bisasterbisexual @killingboredom @bonafideyapper @i-simp-for-mha-men @pixelatedprofilepic @ultimatreality @chattersstuff @harmfulb1tch @hellolettuce444 @miketastic25
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If Y/N had to pay Cooper one compliment, it was that he had been a very good teacher.
Months passed, years, and she survived the apocalypse perfectly on her own.
To avoid trouble, she hid her pitboy and her gender under a large coat and a Ranger mask. Some people made fun of her, thinking she was doing this to protect herself from radiation. Everyone knew that West Tek's hardware, or any of Vault's partners, was crap.
Y/N knew it, and that was why she always had Radaway on her. Not at all in case she saw Cooper again and he needed some.
Three years without any news, doing everything to avoid attracting attention, and she hardly thought about him at all.
If she sometimes looked at the photo of him before his turning, with little Janey, it was only to remember that she should trust no one in this rotten world. Never again, she repeated to herself.
It was with this spirit that she almost killed Lucy when the young woman fell on her. Literally.
Y/N was standing in a crater, calm, silent, holding her sniper tightly, ready to shoot her future dinner, when the little vaultie had jumped to escape a yao guai.
Her instinct not being often wrong, she knew that it was more urgent to kill the bear than the imbecile who had thought that surprising a shooter was less dangerous than confronting a beast.
Even though she had a gun, was covered in blood, and one of her fingers was a different color, little Vault dweler looked harmless with her big, naive doe eyes.
It was obvious that she had been outside for a short time. A true miracle that she is still alive.
"Thank you, thank you very much !" she repeated with a huge smile, as if Y/N wasn't pointing her sniper at her. "You don't know the week I just had ! My father was kidnapped, I wanted to save him, but I discovered that he was a murderer who had bombed a city, and all the people I met tried to kill me, and…"
"Hey. I don't remember asking you to tell me about your life, vaultie."
"Oh, sorry ! It's just that I got lost. I was with someone heading to a place called New Vegas, but a big monster pulled him into a hole, then this thing attacked me. You seem nice, and I could use some help…"
"No."
“Wait. But wait !” the girl begged, following her as she went to carve the yao guai. Not the best meat, but she had just wasted five bullets for that, and the noise had either scared away the easy preys or attracted the attention of the dangerous ones.
Y/N vacillated between ignoring Lucy and threatening her, asking her to leave, but after exchanging names, the vaultie seemed to have decided that they were now best friends and should stay together.
No doubt taking her savior's silence as an invitation, she continued to talk about what had happened to her, between her meeting with a man named Maximus, and the inhumane treatment she had suffered at the hands of a mercenary.
Completely incoherent, she ended her story by explaining that she had abandoned her potential boyfriend to go on an adventure next to the guy who tortured her, with the aim of finding her dad and discovering who had destroyed the entire planet.
It was quite funny, because Lucy reminded her a bit of herself before. Y/N wondered if Cooper had seen her like that when they met, a lost and stupid thing.
At the same time, the girl's reasons for living were the same as the Ghoul. Find a family member and take revenge on Vault. Amusing. Maybe they would be very happy together.
If we forgot the fact that Lucy thought that no one should be killed, that everyone was nice, and mutual help was a fundamental notion, to start again. Ugh.
"So, some free advice, if you want to avoid having your tongue cut out, remember that it is not a good idea for a little vaultie who grew up in a palace to give big moral lessons to people who have been doing what they can to avoid dying for years, sometimes centuries."
"Why do you call me that ? You come from a vault too, right ? My pitboy picked up yours."
"Hang on. I am a victim of the cruelty of politicians and businessmen, betrayed by my own country and only alive by luck, or bad luck. You are a little vaultie. Now get away before I strangle you."
Lucy continued to follow her. And Y/N could have killed her, she really could have. This wasn't her first rodeo. She had killed a lot of people for less than that. But she didn't really want to.
Maybe she had been alone for too long. Maybe she felt sorry for this girl, like Cooper had felt sorry for her.
A deal was found. If Lucy could keep her mouth shut, then Y/N would help her find her friends so she could resume her main quest. Their paths would then part ways, and everyone would be happy.
Especially Y/N.
Because if she often talked about her dear Max, the little vaultie didn't seem so eager to find her survival partner. This was understandable, since he had tried to kill her several times, shooting her, cutting off her finger, using her as bait, and selling her.
Compared to this guy, Y/N was a saint, an angel from heaven, the perfect friend. When she offered the girl a bottle of non-irradiated water, she seemed about to ask her to marry her.
“You must be the only person in all the wastelands with good water !”
"It doesn't come cheap. But… I made a promise."
“My lovely traveling companion forced me to drink disgusting water and eat a man.”
"Charming."
Even though she seemed sweet and pure, Y/N continued to be wary of Lucy, sleeping with only one eye open and waiting for the moment when she would try to stab her in the back. First rule, don't trust anyone.
It had happened before. Never again.
Even after three years, the wound was still raw.
It was only when she saw the fear and regret in Lucy's eyes that Y/N restrained her action, yet ready to plant her blade the moment she had shown her the photo, taken out of her bag, asking her if it was her family.
Cooper hadn't been her family. He had been an asshole, who had manipulated her, who had made her believe that he loved her, and that she could love him, before abandoning her like a dog on the side of the road.
"Be careful with this Maximus. Men never change. He will take what he wants from you, and you will be hurt."
“He’s not like that.”
"I didn't think Coop was like that !" she shouted, really getting angry for the first time at Lucy, who jumped. "Yes, I loved him ! I trusted him ! It was stupid of me and I will never make that mistake again ! I hope he died in a hole, alone and in pain !"
"… Can I throw the photo away then ?"
“Give that back !” Y/N said quickly, snatching the only souvenir he had left from her hands and putting it safely in her pocket.
Lucy's sad smile indicated that she wouldn't have destroyed the photo. How sorry she was, for having gone through her things, and for having caused her pain by forcing her to talk about this man who had been so important. Also that she was happy, to see that despite her speeches, Y/N still cared for someone, even if she didn't want to.
She had never told anyone about it. It had been a long time since she had said his name, except when she woke up from a nightmare, in the middle of nowhere, calling for him like a child.
Lucy continued to smile, because for her, there must be another explanation for her precious Coop's behavior. She continued to call him Coop, even after Y/N threatened to make her eat her rotten finger.
"I know you don't like talking about him…"
“If you know that, shut up.” Y/N muttered as she continued walking towards New Vegas, trying to ignore the stream of words from the stupid vaultie, bingeing on romance novels and patriotic films.
"From the few things you agreed to share, Coop cared about you. He protected you, he taught you to defend yourself, he gave you a picture of his daughter. For me, this are proofs of love. Actions speak louder than words."
“He promised to come get me and I’m still waiting.”
"Wrong ! You left, you know how to hide perfectly, and you do everything to avoid him ! So, maybe he's been chasing you all this time and you don't know."
"What I do know is that the main clause of our deal was that you would stop talking so much, especially if it was to give such ridiculous and inappropriate advices."
They finally arrived at their destination after several weeks of walking. No sign of Lucy's friend on the way though. Perhaps he had died, or had not continued on his own.
It was clear that he wanted to use the daughter of vault 33 overseer to achieve his ends, and now that he had lost her, there was no point.
The city amazed the girl. It was the first real city she discovered, instead of those piles of ruins full of dust and vermin that were found in the four corners of the wastelands.
Her enthusiasm almost made Y/N laugh. A bit like how she had often made Cooper laugh without meaning to.
Damn, she needed to stop thinking about that bastard so often. Her mother was always saying that we manifest things through emotions and thoughts.
Her poor mother, long dead, but who had always been right.
As soon as her eyes landed on him, Y/N was crouched behind a wooden crate, watching Cooper Howard, fucking Cooper Howard, sitting near the casino, seemingly waiting for someone.
Seeing her, Lucy began to ask her what she was doing, her gaze following hers, and then the reaction was strange. Everything about this girl was strange anyway.
She started to smile.
Worse, she waved an arm at the Ghoul in greeting, opening her mouth to get his attention as she realized it wasn't enough, his cowboy hat falling over his face.
Y/N quickly grabbed her arm to pull her towards her, asking her what she was playing.
"It's the mean bounty hunter who accompanies me !" she replied happily, as if everything was normal.
For a moment, Y/N wondered if Lucy was making fun of her. If from the start, this was just a horrible joke against her, the continuation of a torture started in this seedy bar.
Then she told herself that if someone made fun of her, it was just fate.
Because she remembered that she had only described Cooper, continuing not to have any particular interest in his condition as a ghoul, and with her goodness as a jug, Lucy had not wanted to reduce him to his appearance either.
The difference was that he didn't give his name to his new pet.
“I knew you were an idiot, but not that much.”
"What ? Why ?" Lucy wondered, slightly offended and trying to free herself.
"You can't trust him. You already know that, why do you want to go back with him ? Look… I can help you find your father, okay ? Find Max. Whatever you want, but let's avoid this bastard and let's leave quickly."
"Golden rule. We said we would wait near the casino, he's there, I'm not leaving him."
With this serious look, the vault dweler would almost have looked frightening. Almost. It was mainly because it was obvious that it was impossible to reason with her that Y/N let her go, not waiting for her tirade about great friendship and the need to stay together to run as far as possible.
If Cooper noticed them, she didn't give him time to really see her, nor to catch up with her or shoot her.
Y/N didn’t turn around to check. Not because she was afraid of him chasing her. But because she was afraid that not only would he not pursue her, but she would also see him with Lucy.
Because even though he had tortured her, insulted her, threatened her… He was in front of the fucking casino waiting for this girl. And it really hurt.
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mustainegf · 3 days
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dominant sex and breeding kink with james ?? 🤭
thank youuuu
YESSS!!! so sorry if it’s short!!
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James shoved me down to the mattress, tearing off his jeans as his lips fought mine.
"I'm gonna fuck this little pussy of yours..." he groaned, teasing his fingers over my hole. "Gonna fill you up real nice, fuck my babies into you."
I groaned, loving how dirty he was. It was one of the things that attracted me to him in the first place. He had no shame about what he wanted. No shame about being a filthy bastard when it came to me.
He slipped a finger inside me, and I moaned at the sensation. "God yes," I moaned, bucking my hips up to meet his hand. He leaned forward, kissing me as he slowly fucked me with his fingers.
His tongue was warm against mine. So fucking good. "Little slut likes that, does she?" he said. I bit down on his lip. The pain of it felt so good. "Fuck," he cursed, kissing me deeper, his fingers moving faster.
"I want you to beg for my cock, beg for me to get you nice and pregnant.." he panted.
"Please," I whimpered, and he growled, adding another finger. "Beg for it, or I'll pull out." I looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "Please, please, please, please..." I begged, and he smiled.
"Good girl," he praised me, sliding his fingers free of me, leaving me wet and ready for him. He lined himself up with me and slowly pushed in, stretching me as he did. "Fuck, you're tight," he groaned.
"I love that," he said, pushing harder, filling me up until I could feel him in my belly. "Just like that, baby, just like that," I cried out, loving how good he felt.
He started to move in and out of me slowly, setting the pace. He pulled out almost completely before thrusting back in, making me cry out. I reached up, wrapping my arms around his neck, holding him tight.
"Gonna look so good when your pregnant..." James muttered.
"I love breeding this pretty pussy," he was practically rambling now.
James had such a breeding kink, and was never afraid to voice it.
I knew that was one of the things that attracted me to him. He had no problem saying what he wanted.
"Yes, baby, yes," I moaned, holding him tighter.
"That's right, ride that cock, show me how much you like it." I ground myself against him, moving up and down on him, my fingers digging into his shoulders, needing more.
I whimpered, knowing we wouldn't last long. "Tell me you want my cum, tell me you want my cum." My eyes widened at his words. Iloved his words; they were always so dirty and hot. "I want it," I panted.
"I want it," I said again, feeling the build of something in me. James smiled, pulling out of me, only to slam back into me, the change of pace making me cry out.
"The whole world gonna know you’re mine when they see you pregnant.." he groaned, nipping at my neck.
I dug my nails into his back, wanting to mark him.
"Fuck, yeah," he whispered, his eyes glazed over with lust. He slammed into me again, and I felt that spark, that spark that told me I was about to come.
Ilet out a loud scream, feeling my orgasm hit me hard. James followed, grunting loudly as he spilled himself into me. "You're fucking perfect, aren't you?" he asked.
James didnt quit his thrusting though, rather, he continued, harder. "Fuck! Jamie, Jamie, it's too much!" I wailed.
"Hush, I've got to fuck my cum into you honey, gotta get you pregnant remember?" He groaned.
"You want my cum, don't you? You want my babies, don't you?" He demanded. I nodded, tears forming in my eyes at the sight of him looking so happy. I was so used to guys lying to me, cheating on me, but not James.
He was always telling me the truth, always showing me what he wanted. It was why I was willing to try anything with him. "Such a good girl,"
It wasn't long before he was cumming inside me for the second time.
I whined into his shoulder as he finally stilled, holding his seed deep inside me. "So good, such a good job..." he petted my hair.
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fushigurro · 5 hours
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𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙏𝙀𝙈 / 𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙐𝙈.
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𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ sfw, but minors dni (potential for nsfw continuations) / jjk manga spoilers / this is my version of "came back wrong" gojo inspired by recent events, but it turned out somewhat softer than i expected / what happens when satoru is brought back and suddenly finds himself deeply attached to you of all people?
yandere!gojo / he's also slightly higher-needs disabled coded… idk i tried to approach it as best as i could. it's an unfamiliar thing for reader and they're trying to process it / i very well may try to continue this because it is rotting my brain!! / 1.7k words
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“Satoru… you need to eat.”
A full bowl of soup sits on the table before him untouched, his hands resting unoccupied in his lap and eyes trained on your figure as you circle around to stand near him. That piercing blue gaze is ridden with innocence, lips parted like those of a quizzical child, but they turn upwards into a pleased grin when you take a seat in the chair next to him.
You’d prepared a rather simple dish, something you figured might be easy for him to consume and digest given his… peculiar state, but Satoru apparently had yet to pay any interest to it. He instead sat obediently in his chair just as you had commanded several minutes ago, unable to initiate the task of feeding himself, for he was much more intrigued from afar by your every move as you tidied the kitchen. It was as though he couldn’t find the drive to function unless you were within an overwhelmingly short distance of him.
Satoru’s heart thumps now that you’re close, a burst of satisfaction rushing through his brain. Dopey yet stimulating chemicals. You are Pavlov’s ringing bell. 
He is reminiscent of a child picked up from school by their beloved parent, or a puppy being reunited with its owner after a day at the vet, overcome with joy and unable to properly contain it. He leans forward and presses his lips to your neck as though that is the appropriate response to his elation, the crossed wires in his brain telling him that this is the sort of affection that will please you and is therefore the sort of affection he most desperately wants to give.
His condition was difficult to understand, and you wouldn’t call yourself properly equipped to deal with it, but there was simply no other option but to try; Gojo wouldn’t let anyone else try, the horrible rattling in his skull consuming him when deprived of your presence for too long. Yuuta had described the look in his eyes as “frenzied and lost.” You were told that the infirmary still needed repairs.
Once he returned to this world, Satoru had been stripped down to his essence, bare bones, a creature of instinct, reduced to something quite simple yet difficult for the average person to understand. But you had to understand, or try at the very least. This was the new burden placed upon your shoulders; it was either soothe this new version of Satoru Gojo for the sake of the world, or find a way to send him back into the icy arms of death. You were often caught between which option sounded worse.
However, when met with the sweetest and most earnest of his smiles, your bones were frosted with guilt, and you regretted ever entertaining the idea of letting him go again.
You stumble over getting him to perform necessary tasks and be further than 5 feet away from you at any given time, because it seems that, upon his revival, Satoru equates you and only you with everything of importance in his life. It’s more than a little unnerving given the fact that you’d never so much as even kissed prior to the loss of him, and now his neurons only fire off every happy memory he’s ever had of you, every positive thing he’s ever felt, no matter how stifled. You are his entire world now, and he can’t even verbalize it, but as each day passes following his awakening, you’re starting to gather that much on your own. You can’t be frustrated for long, however, because his cheerfulness is contagious, his enthusiasm making you feel loved even if it is somewhat smothering.
Is this selfish of you? 
The man's lips travel slowly across your skin, pacified by your presence, your taste, and ignoring the grumble in his stomach. How does one differentiate the types of hunger? You don’t attempt to fight him off, but rather exhale a defeated sigh in response. It hasn’t been long since you’ve been tasked with this responsibility, but it feels as though you’re frequently fighting a losing battle and failing him all the same. It’s so peculiar, so very unnatural… but still, you have to try.
“Satoru, please…” you beg, voice light in his ear and a hand settling at his nape. His nerve endings come alive every time his name leaves your lips. The bell. “Just one bite? For me?”
That seems to do the trick, as you’ve gathered. Satoru pulls himself back, hyper-aware of the tone in your voice and suddenly willing to comply. He’s more than eager to accept the spoon into his mouth when you offer it, placing your fingers beneath his chin and carefully bringing the soup up to his lips. He swallows it with ease, the task literally more palatable now that you’ve reminded him of how badly you would like him to complete it. Anything for you.
“There,” you say, satisfied and offering a faint, exhausted smile. He grins widely in response and hums, no longer capable of words of his own, but his simple noise expresses his glee with efficacy. Satoru decides to punctuate it by pressing the tip of his nose to yours for good measure.
It feels wrong to enjoy these subtle moments of intimacy with someone who doesn’t appear to be in his right mind, but who are you to say whether he is or not? There’s still an agency he possesses, a heart full of emotions, and a mind teeming with thoughts that you wish you could be privy to. He might be different now, but part of you wants to say with certainty that the old Satoru is still here with you somehow—you can sense it. He chuckles at particular images that flash across the TV and still gets a kick out of teasing you to some degree. To diminish that seems like a disservice to him.
You’re unable to deprive him of the happiness your closeness provides nonetheless; in fact, it’s obviously rather dangerous for you to even try and do so. Satoru’s conscious recollections are filled primarily with you, but his body is still more or less the same as it always was—the vessel of his clan’s power, the strongest sorcerer on earth. You’re not sure to what extent he remembers how to control these abilities, but part of you doesn’t wish to find out. For now, you care for him, placate him, re-learn him. Nothing is certain about the situation other than the fact that he apparently needs you now more than ever.
Your eyes soften at the warmth he exudes, and you wonder if he really remembers who you even are—or were—to him. It’s not worth pondering over for now, however. He needs to eat.
“Another?” you ask, testing to see how willing he is to fulfill your wishes. Satoru often easily complies once you’ve expressed satisfaction in him doing so, but all of this is still so new and experimental; you never know when he might decide to switch gears.
However, still smiling, he nods, and you bring another spoonful of soup up to his lips for him to swallow. It pleases you to see him finally getting something into his stomach, and he can sense it, taking it upon himself to further your agenda and simultaneously realizing just how gratifying it is to fill his belly.
“Good,” you say, and he feels rewarded. He is crowned by your praise. Exalted. You take him to the greatest heights with the simplest of words.
You place the spoon back in the bowl and Satoru takes it in his grasp, feeding himself without quarrel while you observe. Most of his motor skills appear to be intact as far as you’ve seen despite the cognitive and behavioral changes, and if someone were to look upon him from afar, you’re fairly certain they would never know the difference. But you’re still trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together little by little, deciphering each bit of information and also determining just how deep his severe attachment to you really goes.
Why did it end up being you? Why do you suddenly seem to be the only thing that makes sense to him in this entire universe?
You can’t answer that, he can’t answer that, it’s just the way it is. Satoru doesn’t need to know why you nearly consume his every thought, he just knows that you make him happy, and that’s truly all that counts in his version of the world. He’ll chase it on instinct until death decides to take him again; he’ll tear down anything that stands in his or your way, for you alone are all that he thinks he has left to cling to. Never matter the others that show concern for him—they’re nice enough, earning a small smile or even the privilege to touch before he shakes them off and seeks you out again. It’s nothing personal. It’s simply pathological.
Leaning an elbow on the table, you turn the possibilities over in your mind as you silently watch him eat. A life has been restored, but yours has been turned upside down, and you have to figure out just exactly what you’re going to do about it. You suppose that taking baby steps ought to be the best way to make progress, but how do you make space for someone like this out of the blue. You’ll have to give it your best shot.
Satoru finishes drinking down the remaining broth of his soup, and you pose a question. “Would you like to go for a walk with me today?”
He sits the bowl down and looks over at you, eyes assessing your features and mind processing what you’ve asked. He hasn’t been out much in the days following his return, but you don’t see any reason to keep him cooped up inside if he happens to respond well to a casual outing with you. Taking him for a stroll outside seems like a decent way to test the waters.
Satoru smiles and nods, recalling memories of how your hair looked when touched by the wind. He’d be glad to accompany you outside if it meant he could see you glow in the sun, radiant and warm. The center of his universe.
“I think it’ll be nice,” you remark with a grin, an ounce or two of weight being lifted from your shoulders at the positive shift in outlook. Baby steps.
Reaching out to take your hand, Satoru squeezes it in his own to convey his agreement. It’s as if he’s trying to say, “everything is nice when I’m with you.”
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yuriisclumsy · 1 day
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What if there was an AU for [Name] being one of the top ranked mages in twisted wonderland?
╰Description: [Name] is one of the top mage in Twisted Wonderland, right after Malleus Draconia.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (You are here)
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—May 3, 2024—
Thought… This is a continuation on the What if there was an AU for [Name] being one of the top ranked mages in twisted wonderland? 
So far—over a month—the students of NRC have become accustomed with [Name]...kind of. 
What do I mean by kind of? 
Let’s just say that those who have her are now dying to get out of the class. Too bad for them because their one-week deadline has passed, and now they can’t. At least they want to lose the credit and money.  
Turns out, having a pretty girl as your professor doesn’t make up for the torture you’ll endure. 
Now, everyone is afraid to even approach [Name]. She doesn’t mind this, in fact, she quite likes it. Peace and silence. The two things she adores the most. 
So much as to get the students to participate more. Thank Crowly for this. 
In the month [Name] had been teaching, all she’s done is give theory. Heavy for those that have advanced places, and slightly less for those who have normal classes. Though you’ll be damned if you thought that she’ll have it easy on you if you have normal classes with her. Aduece Duo and Grim are probably off complaining to Yuu about how difficult the class is. 
The members of the cast that follow rules and usually are studious find this class a bit…too much. But, not enough to make you want to jump off a bridge. The other students get by with deep dive studying. As for those that are lazy–AGHEM–Leona–COUGH–[Name] won’t let them go that easily. 
Why don’t we take a look at how well her students did in the first test, shall we? 
Because of the way [Name] likes to do this, all results are given a week after the test during a time when there are no classes. Which means all of her classes are gathered here in one spot. It’s easier for her to do it this way. If there are any questions, she can just answer them and not have to repeat it to her other classes. 
The first test on theory had concluded a week ago, and the students are now in [Name]’s class to get their results. They talk amongst their peers about how they think they did on the test. Some say they did poorly, others think they at least got a passing grease, no one will know for certain until they get those papers back.  
The class starts to quiet down as professor [Name] walks in. She walks until she is standing on the podium looking out towards the students with a blank expression—nothing new for the students, as she is like that everyday. 
“I have graded all the tests. I will pass them out. But before that, I would like to say that the results of this test met my expectations.” [Name] said nonchalantly. 
At this the students became happy and full of hope. Maybe the majority of them pass. Some even began to cheer. 
[Name] took the stack of tests and began to make her way down the list of students in alphabetical order, as she had instructed them prior to entering, with the few exceptions of Malleus, Silver, Yuu, and Grim (Silver, Yuu, and Grim being the obvious ones). 
The first three rows had gotten their tests back, much to their excitement. But from the noises of disappointment and failure reaching their classmates further up, they began to question if they had passed the test. 
“Aww man…and I studied really hard for this!” Kalim sulked in his seat. 
“If by studying, you mean cramming last minute, then yes, you studied really hard.” Jamil frowned at his Housewarden, shaking his head in a disapproving manner. “Next time, come to the library to study. I’ll teach you what you don’t know.” 
“Really!” Kalim’s round eyes sparkled to the point it made the people around him cover their eyes. “You really are the best Jamil!” 
“...Ah…of course I am.” he said, having his eyes closed. 
Going further up, [Name] began to speak after hearing more dissatisfied students. 
“It seems like my expectations were met. Only 10 percent of you passed this exam.” She said matter-of-factly, still passing out tests. 
“What?!” 
“But I studied for days for this!” 
“She’s lying…right?” 
“I want to get out of this class…” 
“How is that even possible...?!” 
“No way…” 
“Can’t believe it…even if I studied for a whole month, I wouldn't have passed this.” 
“She has to be joking.” 
“Kehehe.” A grimling laugh was heard throughout the chatter of students. It came from a young boy with black and pink strokes. He had pointed ears, a staple for the Valley of thorns citizens. 
“Finding this amusing, are you, Lilia?” A considerably tall young man with pale skin and the same pointed ears asked. 
“Oh, please, Malleus. You can’t deny the fact that you find this entertaining too.” Lilia retorted with a smile. 
“Hehe, I suppose it is. What’s more intriguing is the fact that she was expecting those results.” He turned to Lilia, “don't you have to be up there to get your test back?” 
The young lad’s eyes widened, “ah! You’re right!” He said before disappearing into thin air. 
There were only two rows left to hand out the test. Going up, [Name] came face to face with Leona. 
“Kingsholar.” 
“Professor.” 
There was a moment of silence as the two stared down at each other (although one was staring down, and the other up). Without more time [Name] gave him his test back and moved in shortly after. 
She was already three students down when Leona slammed the desk in front of him. This grabbed everyone's attention: all eyes were on him now. 
[Name] turned around, not amused by Leona’s behavior. She predicted he was going to act this way when he got his test back. 
“Is there something wrong for you to act in a way, Kingsholar?” 
“...you” 
“I’m sorry, I am unable to hear you. You’ll have to speak louder.” [Name] was preparing herself for the yelling of the century. 
“HOW COULD YOU GIVE ME AN A IF I GOT EVERYTHING WRONG?!” The students around him jumped, getting scared. No one had seen him that mad. Apart from the students that saved him from the blot, this was a new level of anger. 
“*sigh* isn’t it obvious why I would bypass the grading system and give you an A?” she asked, looking at Leona with a are-you-stupid face. 
“...” 
“No? I guess I must spell it out for you then.” [Name] got closer to him. Taking his test into her hands, she looked it over before averting her gaze at him. “Out of all the questions you got everything wrong.” 
“Exactly. So, how the hell did I get an A?” He demanded to know he passed the test, if he had no correct answers. It was preposterous in his opinion. Having every question wrong would mean an F, so having it be an A this time…felt wrong. 
“Do you not see what is wrong with this?” She asked. 
“No?” Leona was getting irritated. Can’t she just say what she needs to say? 
[Name] hummed. “Can someone tell me what is wrong with that? Anyone?” She turned to the rest of the class. 
A student in the front row had put his hand up to answer the question. 
“Āshengrotto. Can you tell me what is wrong with this statement?” 
“Yes, professor.” Azul put his hand down and fixed his glasses. “If this test was a written exam the chances of getting a zero are likely. But, because this test is a multiple-choice question, it would be impossible to get zero percent, as you have more chances of guessing the correct answer.” 
She smiled at the answer. “That was beautiful. Thank you, Mr. Āshengurotto. Point for Octavinelle.” Some Octavinelle students cheered for their Housewarden, the loudest being Floyd. 
“As you hear Āshengurotto say, it would be near impossible to get a zero percent on a multiple-choice test.” she said, turning to face Leona again. His face spelled mad.
“Yeah, so? I could have gotten lucky.” Leona said sarcastically. He wanted to get this over with.
“Mmmm…maybe. Or you simply wanted to fail.” [Name] said accusing him.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“I would have agreed with you that you could have gotten lucky enough to get a zero…if not for the fact that you are good with theory. In fact, you are one of the best students in this class with this subject.”
“The only option left…is that you wanted to fail.” [name] finished the final blow as she handed the test back to him, before continuing to disperse the papers.
“Oh and, Kingsholar?” She turned to see him standing there, looking down at the paper that had a good score in. “You violated Rule number four. I expect to see a written paper on it in my desk in the following days.”
Leaving the conversation at that, she finished giving out the test and went back to the podium.
“If there are no further questions, you are dismissed.”
(finished: 5/19/2024, at 6.25pm)
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𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @scarabiafriend, @sleep-ydragon, @d3sperate-enuf, @elaemae, @lucky-whispers, @kiwiimochi, @emmorphine, @azriel-sama, @amora-ledezma, @writerstrashbin, @marinahavik, @twstwondersforyou, @lunatheroyal, @ririsun, @dyedscarletletter, @kuureii, @otomega, @valacz29, @busy-dadzawa-fish, @sarah22447, @valacz29, @wondering-again. Re-blog or Comment if you want to get added into the Tag section for Twisted wonderland. Back to The Mind
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mishietishie · 2 days
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Gojo as your bf headcanons!
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Includes: fluff, lots and lots of fluff, Gojo being silly, mention of having kids and possible spelling errors
So let's start off with how you two lovelies meet :)! You're probably a new teacher who got transferred from the sister schoo Kyoto to Tokyo because of your skill and prowess as a Jujutsu sorcerer. While principal Yaga gives you a tour of the school, you meet the strongest sorcerer, Gojo Satoru. He'd get all into your personal space, getting a good look at you before a smile crept up onto his face, greeting you with an enthusiastic smile.
"Hey, heey! You're the new teacher from Kyoto, right?~ Welcome to Tokyo!~ You know me as Gojo Satoru, the strongest, what's your name, newbie?"
Before you could properly introduce yourself, Yaga gave Gojo a good smack on the head, telling him to stop bothering you and act a bit more professional.
While Yaga started walking to continue the tour, you looked at Gojo who gave you a sheepish smile.
"Heeey, I still didn't get your name!"
You laughed and told him your name was L/N Y/N, which earned you a toothy grin from Gojo
"L/N.. I like that name! Say, do you wanna get a bite during lunch? My treat~"
And that's how it kinda all started!
let's just say that ever since you began working at the Tokyo school, the students started to absolutely adore you! Especially Nobara and Yuiji find you absolutely awsome! Megumi found you quite the Jujustu Sorcerer, though he didn't really let it show.
Okay, onto the actual headcanons lolsies
Gojo randomly barges into your office at whatever time. Either telling you about the latest gossip, bringing you mochi he bought from the sweetshop, or to complain about the higher-ups. He somehow always finds a way to be near you and spend time with you instead of doing his paperwork.
He likes to try out different foods with you! Whenever the food is too spicy, he'll give it to you wether you can handle spicy foods or not. (If you can't handle spicy food, you'll both be burning your tongues)
We all know Gojo is too rich for his own good, so what's a better solution then to let his amazing partner spend his money! Whether you use it for clothes, shoes, accessories, vehicles, hobbies, etc.. He doesn't care, as long as his pretty/handsome baby is happy, he is too!
He totally pranked you once by picking you up in his arms and flying with you in the air when you were still asleep.
He really likes playing with your hair! Sometimes he makes little braids in your hair (or atleast tries to) when you guys are just chilling in the comfort of your home.
He'd be totally down to wear matching outfits/shirts with you!
When you're both seperated because one (or both) of you are on a mission, he totally spam texts/calls you at any given moment. Sometimes even when he's fighting! (He is the strongest after all!)
Would be totally down to put a ring on your finger and make you Mr/Mrs/Mx Gojo Satoru
DEFINETLY wants kids, like he wants an army of babies that look like him and you!! His heart melts at the thought of it :((
If you can't get kids then he's always down for adoption! But if you don't wan't kids then you two can always adopt a few cats/dogs :)
Totally NOT a morning person, you seriously gotta drag him out of bed bc his ass is NOT MOVING (unless you're not a morning person either, then you're both stuck n late)
Ya these were the headcanons, thank you for reading to the end!~
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shmooooo · 1 day
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hi isa <3 really curious on what type of dom you think the exo members are 😻👀
The way you sent this while I was going through my exo album looking for a new profile pic-
exo as doms
pairing: exo x reader (no chen, read my guidelines for info)
genre: smut
warnings: reader has a hand kink (this is very self-indulgent), mentions of degradation, spanking, edging, overstimulation, (aftercare isn’t explicitly mentioned for most of them but just know that all of them would be adamant about taking good care of you after, especially if they were rough)
word count: 851
notes: special thanks to @rose-sereniteeth for helping me! ♡ funny how we struggled with minseok and then in typical fashion his part became one of the longest 💀 i'm not super happy with this but despite having stanned exo for the past seven years, i never quite embraced them like this until somewhat recently so there's still time to figure this out - also reblogs are always appreciated!
~~~~~~
Minseok (Xiumin)
Hard dom. He has rules in place and expects you to follow them. And while he’s sweet outside of the bedroom, during scenes he loves degrading you. He’s also a huge fan of teasing and sometimes he’ll just tease you with light touches (sometimes even with a feather) for hours until you get desperate enough. But if you dare to show your impatience by being a brat, he’ll scold you and either prolong your suffering or give you exactly what you wanted but tenfold until it’s almost too much. Cleanliness and tidiness are also very important to him so I feel like he would make you fold your clothes after undressing and be very adamant about cleaning you up afterwards.
Junmyeon (Suho)
Dom. Honestly ultimate daddy dom. Everything he does is to make you feel good. Whether that is making sure you eat and sleep enough or giving you what you need in the bedroom. He will absolutely spoil you in all aspects of life but in return he expects you to follow the rules you agreed on. And while he is sweet, he’s also very strict when it comes to the rules so you better not break them or he will put you over his knees and make you count.
Yixing (Lay)
Hard dom. Have you seen what he’s like when he’s working? All focused and hot? That’s how I imagine him as a dom. He’s more of a "master" type, especially during punishments. During scenes he acts cold and sometimes even angry with you. He doesn’t smile and when he does, that is absolutely not a good sign since it usually means he will edge or overstimulate you to heaven and back. But during aftercare he does a 180 and becomes very nurturing and caring. 
Baekhyun
Dom. He’s an experimentalist and probably the kinkiest out of the bunch. I absolutely see him owning a toy box with all kinds of stuff in there (mostly for you). He definitely enjoys giving directions and is generally very vocal about what he wants you to do (are we surprised). He will also tease you relentlessly, both verbally and physically - he’ll call you all kinds of degrading names (usually mixed with praise, like “my pretty little whore”) and first edge you until you beg him to let you cum and then overstimulate you until you beg him to stop. Will definitely play innocent after as if he just didn’t take your body apart at the seems. 
Chanyeol
Soft dom. I feel like unless you either fuck up or specifically ask him to be rough, he’ll generally be sweeter and less strict. That doesn’t mean he won’t tease the hell out of you though. He knows you love his hands and he’ll absolutely use that against you. Whether it’s with light touches anywhere but where you actually need him or by giving you orgasm after orgasm with only his fingers because “if you like my hands so much, surely you don’t need my cock” (bastard). But just because he isn’t usually rough with you (both verbally and physically), doesn’t mean you should underestimate him. Question his authority and he will put you in your place. 
Kyungsoo (D.O)
Dom. He’s a soft lover and that usually carries over into the bedroom. He loves spoiling you because he’s a simp at heart but he never lets you forget who’s in control when you’re doing a scene. He’s strict about you following the rules you two have established, and if you don’t, he will definitely make you pay for it. I also don't really see him as a toy guy? Like he has a vibrator and maybe one, two other things but he usually relies on his own body and the vibrator if he wants to make you squirm, something he generally enjoys but especially when he’s punishing you.
Jongin (Kai)
Soft dom. He will absolutely do anything to make you happy and praise non-stop (read: simp - affectionately). Buys you pretty lingerie but he’s too impatient to take it off before fucking you so he usually fucks you with it on. What he does have the patience for though is worshipping every part of your body. He almost has too much patience for that though, so you often end up whining for him to hurry up, which more often than not leads to him shushing you and pushing his fingers into your mouth to shut you up. 
Sehun
Dom. He’s a sweet guy and can absolutely be down for a more light-hearted dynamic with jokes and teasing but once he's in dom mode, he changes. He’s firm and expects you to obey but he also rewards you for listening with praise. I feel like he’s surprisingly vocal during sex. He tells you what he's going to do, what he expects of you, and he wants you to respond too, no matter how fucked out you are. It just brings him great enjoyment to see you struggle to form the words he wants to hear because lbr, he’s a brat even when he doms. 
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ashleyfableblack · 3 days
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"Honeybug, I was wondering what happened with you and Pharynx today..."
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Twilight nested in the comforting hoofs of her wife, enjoying the cool of her chitin. The waves of her mane explored the folds of their blankets and the pits of Chrysalis's hoofs while the Changeling Queen's cricket-like purr soothed away the stress of her day. She sighed with a light musical hum of contentment. Chrysalis paused in her gentle nuzzling of her wife to raise a curious eyebrow. "What do you mean, beloved?" "He was so happy. I mean, I've seen him happy before, usually when he's picking at someone, usually Thorax..." Twilight rolled her eyes and the couple shared a knowing chuckle. "But he was different, today, Chryssi. There was a, I don't know, a peaceful quality to him that I don't think I've ever seen before. He wasn't finding joy in lashing out at others. He was just happy in himself." Chrysalis weighed the conversation in her mind. Though she made a point of keeping to her wedding promise of total honesty, she knew that her pony wife understood propriety. There were some things best left private out of respect and most of her conversation with her son was certainly in that vein. "We just talked." Twilight picked up on her wife's hesitation and decided to not press the matter. She understood all too well how complicated and painful Chrysalis's relationships with her sons had been over the years. "Must have been quite a talk." "He did most of the talking." Chrysalis looked askance and sighed. "I just listened." Twilight beamed, practically radiating joy. "I'm proud of you." "Oh?" Chrysalis blinked, a light green drawing to the angles of her cheeks. "Why, beloved?" "You were the mom he needs." Twilight was purring, herself, now. Her crest of chest-fluff puffed up with her swelling of pride. She placed a tender kiss to her wife's hoof. Chrysalis's brow knitted. A confused smile curled at the corners of her lips. "I've always been his mother, Lilac." "I know, honeybug. You're his Mother, his Queen-Mother." Twilight turned back to face her again. "And for all of our drones in our Hive, that's wonderful. That's exactly what they need." She stroked Chrysalis's chitinous cheek, staring lovingly into her saucer-sized serpent eyes. "But Thorax- and especially Pharynx, they aren't our drones. They need a Mom." She wiggled a hoof free of Chrysalis's embrace to give her wife a light boop on her serpentine snoot. "And you are being a fantastic Mom for their emerging needs both as a species and as our sons." Twilight gave her wife a light kiss on her ebony lips. Chrysalis's smile grew to an almost ear-to-ear display of fangs. Her changeling cricket-purr swelled to a rumble of pride as she drank in this moment through a heavy-lidded gaze of bliss. "Heh... Best. Mom. Ever." Twilight laughed and wriggled about in her wife's embrace, ooching into the coziest position possible. "Pfft. Best cuddlebug ever."
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cynthia39100 · 3 days
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Merlin rewatch -- S2E4: Lancelot and Guinevere
Merlin & Arthur moments
1. Arthur's sunny sunny smile
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They just went through a deadly situation and Merlin was being Merlin and Arthur just let loose and grinned with such genuine fondness. So beautiful.
2. " Giant... baby rat."
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Merlin was adorably nervous so Arthur held back on the description of the monster and then hurried over the gross part (“they eat human flesh”). So cute. See, Arthur cared about Merlin.
3.“ You’ve still got me.”
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They were precious. Merlin just wanted to cheer Arthur up. I like the little head-tilt and the soft smile Arthur did when Merlin said " Look at the bright side." I quite like that this romance heavy episode landed on a happy friendship note. And Arthur & Merlin’s cute synchronised walking ~~
4. 'distracting guards' 1
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I like that little face Arthur made after he knocked out the guards with the help of Merlin’s ‘distraction’. “ See? Easy.”  Or “ That’s wasn’t half bad.” Also, Merlin was having so much fun with it lol
5. cage fight
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I love that Arthur instantly dragged Merlin behind his back when Merlin jumped in. Protective.
6. 'distracting guards' 2
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I don’t know if Arthur had too much faith in Merlin or just didn’t care what Merlin may get into lol He kept making Merlin distract the guards. Merlin just stood there and admired his own masterpiece while Arthur didn't give a damn. To be fair though, those guards were Arthur’s subjects. He probably wouldn’t want to make them concussed.
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[S2E4] [other episodes]
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pinky-mouse · 1 day
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The Sorrow of The Blue
Note: I don’t know what compelled me to write this crossover, but I did. I’m also not too great at writing fanfics either. That being said, enjoy, I guess. lol.
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GIF by pieropann
You were not supposed to be here. Most likely.
It’s strange, you had previously said that every gem that had visited this planet had turned traitor. And look at you now, enjoying the very earth that you had so callously declared to despise many millennia ago.
Were you a traitor then?
Perhaps.
You sat quietly on the steps of a worn staircase, your cloak’s hood covering you as a veil. You had come alone, you wanted to be, needed to be.
Yellow thought you were hysterical too often. You were a Diamond, not some puny, overly emotional lower life form. You were supposed to act according to your expectations - the very expectations set by the controlling White.
You sighed, your hands folded neatly on your lap. A thick tear dribbled down your cheek, but you didn’t bother to wipe it away. There was no point. More would follow shortly afterward anyway.
“Oh my,” You heard a voice say. It was a male. A male human. You kept your gaze ahead, looking at the flowers growing through the mulch in the garden. They were so organized, not a petal out of place.
Unlike your life.
The thought made a few more hot, salty tears of anguish spill down your cheeks. You let them flow. You were used to crying, though the feeling was never therapeutic. Crying was supposed to make you feel better, yet all it had done for you was make you feel so much worse. You felt weak and helpless.
“Miss, are you alright?” The voice asked again. You turned your head, a look of surprise on your flushed and watery features. It was an older human male.
“Ye—yes, I’m quite alright.” You responded, wiping your eyes as you fruitlessly attempted to collect your bearings. “I was just…lost in thought.”
You look ahead at the garden again. It’s so beautiful and serene, especially considering that it’s coming from the hands and care of a human.
“Your garden is lovely,” You swallow the lump lodged in your throat. It hurts, but you push the feeling away. “I did not think that a human would be capable of creating such beauty, but it seems I was wrong.”
“Why, thank you, Miss?” The old man says expectantly, but you’re back deep in your own swirling thoughts of grief, longing, and blame to notice. Your head hurts, like someone is rapping their hand against it as if it’s a door that needs to be opened.
He takes a quick glance at you and noticed your unnatural skin color, but makes no mention of it. Rather, he opts to sit next to your tall form as you remain seated silently on those steps.
You’re trespassing on private property, but he knows better than to openly acknowledge that. He has no clue if you know that fact or if you’re a threat. He’s playing with fire just by getting close to you like this, but somewhere in his heart he can tell you need something to bring you back to the present.
“Something on your mind?”
“Yes.” You answer faintly, your head bowing a little further as your hood covers more of your face. “I just miss what life used to be like, long ago. I could smile more. I was happy. But now, I am not. And I—”
“—Wish you could go back?” He asks. “Me too, sometimes. But unfortunately, we cannot turn back time.”
“You ‘too’?” You echo, your head lifting as you look at him in mild surprise; another tear rolls down your cheek and lingers at the end of your chin. “You know how I feel?”
“Of course,” He nods solemnly. “There are days I wish I could go back and change the past. Some nights I think to myself what could’ve been had I done something differently.”
“I’m surprised a human being is capable of understanding how I feel.” Your quiet voice murmurs. He doesn’t acknowledge the way you worded that. “What have you lost?”
“I’ve lost many people in my life. Some gone too soon, and others not. The pain doesn’t get any better, but I have learned to keep looking ahead. I can’t take care of the people in my life now if I spend my days dwelling on the past.”
“That’s very intelligent of you to say.” The words aren’t necessarily groundbreaking, but they are reminding. Reminding you that you need to learn to push forward, that there’s nothing more you can do. And it is what it is.
You feel somewhat better, for the first time in hundreds of years.
You pause, a tired, melancholic smile etching itself on your face as you lean in and look at him. You lift your hood enough so that your face is no longer covered. “You know, I really shouldn’t be here.”
“I am aware.” The older man comments offhandedly. Just as he ignored you calling him out as a “human,” you pretend not to hear that little remark of his.
“But, I’m glad I came here.” You continue. “You remind me so much of the others. I wish you could meet them.”
Just as you say that, you have an idea. Standing to your full height, you reach a hand down and pick him up, cradling the man to your shoulder. You pay no attention to his stunned gasp as you begin to walk to your destination.
Oh, the others will be so happy knowing you’ve made a new friend.
Hours pass, and the sun begins to set. The pink, purple, and orange colors paint across the sky as if it were a canvas, and the moon’s glow begins to shine faintly through the passing clouds.
A young man, with black hair and a tuft of white at the front looks at the others behind him, his eyebrow raised in confusion and his blue eyes squinting in disbelief.
“Where the hell’s Alfred?”
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mintmatcha · 3 hours
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cw: cisfem reader and an ooc character
He smells like someone else's soap, a bleak reminder that, even when he's under you, Togame Jo is never truly yours.
His glasses are tossed aside on to the floor, open and face down, so there is nothing to obstruct his heavy lidded gaze and it's deep, green grasp. His sweatshirt is pushed up just enough for you to get a glimpse of where his happy trail ends and his pants are still around one leg, planted on the floor. The other leg is tucked up on the couch behind you, pressed against your ass to keep you in place. You're just far enough above him that he can't quite sink his cock in, instead just clumsily fisting it through your petals, through the mixture of your wetness and his precum.
"Come on now," he says. "Don't make me beg."
But he is begging. His body betrays his nonchalant attitude. His free hand digs into the flesh of your thigh, his downward turned lips part with a want ladened breath. You swear there's even the hint of a wrinkle between his brows, the ghost of agony-
"Come on-" Togame's hands both travel up, tracing over your lower back is short, desperate movements. They settle on the small of your waist, squeezing in tiny, rough bursts. "Babe."
You shake your head and he groans, slamming his head back into the arm of the couch. The still wet tendrils of his hair are starting to curl around the base of his neck. His desperation fuels you. You curve your spin and cup your tits, putting on as pretty a show as you can muster, just for him.
"Fuckin', god, come'ere."
You expect him to pull you down, to force you to sit on to his cock, but instead, he jerks you forward. The surprise knocks you on to your hands, and he scoops forward, catching your lips against his. The kiss is deep, breathless, and feral, teeth bumping against your bottom lip as he dips in for more. The hot press of tongue against yours steals your resistance; you fumble below you, fingers closing around his cock as you guide it inside you.
He open-mouth moans into the kiss when the resistance gives and he sinks inside. Togame reflexively bucks up into you, deep enough that you squeal from the sensation.
"That's it." He falls back, still gripping your waist. He uses the connection to guide how you move; he likes a little bounce, just enough that your tits jiggle, not enough that his cock falls out. His eyes flicker between your chest and face, always looking down his hooked nose with a soft, smarmy satisfaction. "That's my fuckin' girl."
The strain on 'my' makes your chest ache-- and your pussy clench around him.
"Yeah, you like being my girl." Togame says, relaxed despite how his cock twitches. "My girl, my pretty fuckin' thing, dripping down my balls, take what you need-"
The grey of his sweatshirt is damped with sweat: yours and his.
"Slow down, lemme enjoy this." Jo says, even though he's the one who's been urging you faster and faster. "Wanna enjoy my baby all night."
You lean back against his thigh again and catch your breath. "Do you say sweet things to all of your girls?"
The humor drains from Jo's face.
"Oi." He sits up too, pressing on to his elbows. "Don't fuckin' say that."
Those green, green eyes find yours.
"Hurts my feelings, yeah?" He tilts his head to the side when you look away. "When I say my baby, I mean it. My baby. Just one."
His voice is soft enough that you believe him.
But he still smells like someone else's shampoo.
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space-blue · 4 hours
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Feyd thoughts from Fenring scene
I was sharing thoughts to a friend while rewatching the Feyd and Fenring scene and figured I'd share it here too, it's my blog innit.
He's walking on his own in a completely empty corridor. Upon being followed he ambushes and pulls a knife, meaning he immediately assumes he's in danger. Calm and collected attitude at this prospect, clearly not his first time.
But he also doesn't toy with her, doesn't threaten her beyond asking about her presence, he's not showing any sadistic traits.
He openly asks if they've met because he recognises her, isn't being coy.
Instead of being violent, he tells her the rules: 'You're not allowed in this section', meaning at least he knows not to be openly hostile to guests.
He's suspicious she got past the guards. He asks about that in a higher pitch, but extremely bland face. He doesn't sound upset or happy or angry. More like low key worried.
From there Margot uses the voice.
She reveals he's shunning his own celebrations, AND he refuses to say why despite being asked with suggestive voice.
He immediately recognises the use of the voice on him and calls her a Bene Gesserit. How? He doesn't answer when she asks what makes him say that. We have to keep in mind that his mother (who he killed) was BG, and since we don't know when she died, it's possible he received some training from her.
He instead says he dreamt about Margot, harkening back to Chani dreams from Paul. Meaning we can safely assume he's just as plagued with semi-visions as Paul was in Dune 1 before going to Arrakis, and we can safely assume that's not common knowledge.
Immediately goes 'Don't mock me woman' when she teases him. BUT crucially, she says "a pleasant dream I hope?" which is not mockery but closer to flirting? It's like he genuinely takes that as a literal tease, when the actual teasing is when she says "I wouldn't dare!" which he doesn't comment on, maybe because he's used to many forms of grovelling.
He also reacts as if the voice is a physical pressure, like when you come down on a plane and your ears get blocked, and tries to shake it off:
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Again with 'I know your BG tricks'
Margot asks, again, and gets no reply, again. She even says "tell me" in a normal voice. There is no cut or weird editing afterwards, so we can assume that Feyd didn't answer either time he was asked.
Instead he takes his bearing and looks around. He is not aggressive or panicked when he admits to not recognising the place.
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Dude is designed to blend into his surroundings. Bonkers he doesn't wear gloves at this stage.
Risk taking : he steps unprompted in the door entrance, and she then says "come to me, kneel," etc. BUT we know he KNOWS about the BG tricks, so we can suppose that he's actually making the decision to go in despite knowing full well she can and will control him.
There's plenty of hints that he may still be heavily under her charm, but there's also evidence he can resist the voice she uses on him (he never answers her repeated questions, tries to fight it off).
He never reacts agressively. He says "where are you going?" with some heat when she leaves though, which to me hints at loneliness. He was all alone avoiding every harkonnen under the moon on his birthday despite being the king of the night, meets a random chick he dreamt about, and now she leaves? Spiced suggested though he may ask because he's not used to people leaving without being dismissed. But imo these can blend.
I lean towards Feyd being quite resistant to the voice because they sent Margot in the first place. Yes, Mohiam wants a child made, but in her excuses, she does't say "I want him bred". Instead she says she's a motherly figure and he might have killed her because he killed his mom. If the voice was such a perfect tool of control, that wouldn't really be an issue, especially once you have him under the Gom Jabar.
There may be an element of "These men [Paul and Feyd] are one generation away from the KH and can't be toyed with carelessly".
He also killed his BG mother, which means he's capable of killing a sister and not any small fry.
So they send a sexy woman to woo him and yet she still has to ask multiple times about what he knows of the BG.
Regarding his dreams, it's also possible Feyd is so compliant and keen to follow Margot because he might have foreseen a freaky good time with her.
One is left to wonder if he looks at Mwaddib walking into the throne room with such intensity not because he's hot for him (he doesn't yet know it's Paul), but because he may have SEEN this scene in dreams. We know Paul was very affected by the spice in the air and food on Arrakis. We also know he made frequent false visions (Jamis helps but it ends up being Chani. Chani and him cut ambiguously in the killing scene. Seeing himself in Chani's place in the final combat scene...) So we can also imagine Feyd may be overconfident in taking in the Emperor's challenge because he's dreamt of this too. Just spitballing.
The BG call him a sociopath with a side of hollywood competency. He has a bit of the BBC Sherlock and Hannibal Lecter disease. He should not be as tame or as competent as he's described and shown if he had the full disorder.
It's very interesting to look at the Fenring scene with sociopathic traits in mind and see how they apply or don't.
He's not getting his need for validation avoiding the party, but he just survived an attempt on his life by his Dear Uncle before getting his freedom dangled in front of him. Lots on his mind.
He's not prone to anger outburst in general. His behaviour isn't very erratic either. Both of these classic traits were probably curb-stomped by the need to fit the mold imposed by the Na-Baron position.
But he definitely has a high sense of his superiority and is opinionated. He speaks up unprompted during the Baron's interview, and again behind the Emperor with 'he's bluffing'
High propensity for violence: check. Whole film, basically. He can be prompted by anger (against Rabban), perceived threat (arena), reactive/defensive (against Margot trailing him). Violence in reaction to fear isn't shown.
Difficulty maintaining relationships : the only people he seems fond of are his once shown, once mentioned pets he brings with him. His family relationships are what they are, and he has no friend to go to on his Birthday.
Generally fearful, vulnerable to anxiety and rejection, easy to humiliate : what a cincher. This is him reacting defensively to Margot's flirting. The BG say fear of humiliation is one of his levers, and if you give him a strong attachment to an honour code, it's very easy to manipulate.
IMO this feeds into his displays of vanity (black teeth, tailor made pretty pets). Also since black is seen as a rich and beautiful colour on their world, his all black outfits with clean cuts may not be as muted as we think they are.
the end... for now.
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qui-gg · 19 hours
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opinion on the bog ii 🤖🤖🤖
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I’ll assume you mean bot and answer accordingly
(Drops art i havent shared and wasnt really planning to. But its appropriate for the things ill talk about yay)
Fun fact i didn’t really have a strong opinion of bots character for a while but then one day i woke up and went “I have an idea for a gjinka” and it caused me to get into their character and now its like my fav gjinka to draw
(Some fun facts about that gjinka design: their head is completely magnetic, and their “hair” is a set of completely removable accessories so their natural state is bald, they can add as much or as little as they want. Also they continue to wear a little pink because i was thinking of the “I can still like chocolate cake” line- they can still like pink too)
I LOVE BOT. Even though i have thoughts and opinions about the iffy nature they were implemented overall i love the concept of a character who was made to be someone else and theyve given me a lot to chew on which i appreciate with a character. What really fascinates me about them is how their interactions with other characters play out so id like to talk more about that⬇️
Their relationship with Cabby was what caused me to create the gjinka design in the first place, and then I found a song that made me think of them and i was like Wow. Bot and cabby’s initial impressions of one another being somewhat at odds due to miscommunication but ultimately other factors (cabby’s disability and bot’s suppression of their fake memory- wow they both have memory issues!) was something that lasted a while but then iii14 saw the end of bot’s assumptions of her being strained when they finally had the chance to actually talk with one another. Bot assumed that Cabby was obsessed with finding a way to explain their existence and identity which they very much felt didn’t need an explanation for who they were, but they realized this is only the way cabby processes the world around her they both place importance on identity both with not knowing their pasts and carving a way for their futures the way they are and they can do it together agh i love ittt
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Here my gjinkas of them with an outfit styleswap
One day i kind of started placing suitcase in bots position to cabby though and i just think about their potential relationship primarily now though LMAO but thats unrelated
With fan and test tube I had stronger opinions about how the circumstances/reasons behind creating them weren’t strong enough and it caused both of their characters to backslide from where they were in ii14 but now i like to look at it and take what i can get from it because i like it when characters do bad and questionable things its interesting to analyze why they did something so selfish. In fan’s case he didnt have a strong connection with bow’s death when it happened beyond being a fan of her bc of his low empathy at the time especially he didnt process it as Death, and he believes he knows everything about bow as the number1 fan so now hes the best person for the job, and test tube coldly decides to recreate the image of a person under the idea shes now using her strengths for a good cause, but shes wrong and she has to learn shes wrong. Theyre not bot’s parents- but it’s easiest for them to describe them that way, since they created them, but that’s not quite how their relationship is at all. Bot has no real familial ties with them, and test tube created them with the sold intention of being somebody other than they are, so that’s always going to stick with them and theyre not just a blindly happy family now. Bot is also a grown adult that doesnt just go away they shouldn’t be infantilized so much. They can be friends with fan and test tube because they now recognize them as Bot but honestly theyd prefer keeping a distance when they can because they wish they were made intentionally or were just a person, but they appreciate being created. Its a pretty unique situation
What really fascinates me the most though is the concepts of how they are in relation to Bow, with the concept of being created as a replication of someone who already exists being so terrifying for both involved. In Bot’s perspective, their conscious is being repressed intentionally to continue living someone else’s life who they never even knew and doesnt identify with. And everyone is acting like its fine and okay when theyre the only one who seems to see how scary this is. They just struggle to grasp with their very existence with the only thing to guide them being a paragraph of a character description and to spew references that dont make sense. In BOWS perspective, she was a celebrity and the most popular contestant in the first season of a reality show, and even after dying on it the fans just screamed for her to “come back” though it was impossible. So her likeness kept getting replicated by both the show (doughs inclusion) and fans (bots creation) who both misrepresented her and she could do nothing but watch it play out. Her death was being denied and other people were living her life just because she was popular on a show, it’s terrifying. Terrifying and despair inducing for both of them theyd both have a disdain for one another on an existential degree, and bot finding their identity is freeing for both of them.
Lifetime achievement award made me insane abt this thanks panks
:D ive talked long enough so thanks for reading this far if you made ittt ! More art
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