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argentsurleweb · 2 days ago
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7 Secrets ChatGPT Pour Automatiser et Optimiser Votre Entreprise
Cette vidéo vous dévoile les meilleures stratégies pour webinar: secrets to a hack-proof joomla revealed – astuces et stratégies pour réussir en ligne !. À ne pas manquer ! Description détaillée de 7 Secrets ChatGPT Pour Automatiser et Optimiser Votre Entreprise Découvrez les meilleures pratiques pour améliorer la conception de vos emails marketing et augmenter votre taux d’ouverture et de…
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badstepsmoving · 9 months ago
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it's 911 day guys. i'm uh. i feel fear.
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jinkiezzsstuff · 1 year ago
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At First Sight 3
Part: [1] [2]
Alastor x doe!fem!reader (gender neuteral pronouns)
warnings: 18+ SMUT, tentacles inclusion, tentacle bondage, predatory prey kink, breeding kink, creampie, male and female masturbation, in heat trope, tentacle masturbation, squirting, dirty talk, choking kink a tiny tiny amount, horror aspects, size kink if you squint, pregnancy although not in depth, you and al become parents, jealous alastor, alastor and lucifer hate eachother, lucifer disagrees with your relationship, swearing, babies given a name, girl dad alastor, NOT PROOF READ LADS I WAS LAZY, lemme know what i missed xoxox
taglist: @readergirlstuff @purplerose291 @chirimeimei @sirens-and-moonflowers
word count: 7.3K
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Alastor had to bite his tongue through many instances in his life he rather not bite his tongue through, but this was by far the hardest he’s ever had to hold back. Lucifer pulled you into a strong hug, cooing at how much you’d grown and changed, pinching your cheeks and kissing your head. Even Alastor’s shadows edged out angrily across the floor at the devil, however you seemed to pay no mind to your newly wedded’s distaste in the devils affections. In fact you were laughing and playfully swatting at Lucifer for treating you so childishly.
Moulting into a shadow slithering across the floor like a snake, he crept up beside you and when he fully formed from the black goop, he waited not a second to pull you into him, and when he did you gave him a dreamy love sick look. Lucifer's face wasn’t shy in his display of disgust, eyes darting to you and Alastor, mouth ajar. “No.” Lucifer uttered in theatrical horror, jumping back and pointing his cane at Alastor. Grinning like the Cheshire cat, Alastor puffed with pride. “Yes.” Alastor practically growled, meanwhile rolled your eyes at both of their idiotic behaviour.
“I mean Charlie said you had an…. interesting taste in men but HIM?!” You grinned nervously at the king, his face soured as he glared at Al. You were in the midst of saying some good old recovery words to ease Lucifers mind, when Alastor pipped up, head held high as he spoke. “Yes indeedy! This little darling and I have become quite the pair. A married pair.” Alastors words were sharp and punctual, like spears tossed forcefully right at the king himself.
You’ve been in Lucifers life so long you might as well be a second daughter, now this deer fuck is stealing both his biological daughter and the one he practically adopted? Lucifer was steaming and you were caught between the two, you knew you were mated to Alastor, but that didn’t change how near and dear the king was to you.
“Guys,” You ushered in a hushed tone bringing your hand up, looking quite meek between the two seething demons. “Please relax, it’s not that serious. Alastor is my mate Luc-” As you were in the middle of calmly explaining the situation Lucifer jumped up like the ground had burnt him, horns shooting out of his head. “His what?!” Lucifer shouted, wings splaying out, tone demonic. Alastor chuckled, his static overlay enhanced as he fixed his monocle. “Yes, I just knew this doe had to be mine when I laid eyes on her! Oh my what a night we had.” In any other situation, on any other day, Alastor couldn’t have those words waterboarded out of him, but just in spite of the devil, he knew he ought to push his own boundaries.
The devil face morphed into shock horror as he tugged at his hat in pure stress, meanwhile Alastor stood tall and smug, with a shit eating grin on his face. You could tell Alastor was going to exploit your relationship just to piss Lucifer off. “What the holy fuck!” The king exclaimed, running in a quick circle, trying to grasp the situation. By now Lucifers entire demonic form was out, eyes blood red, horns at full length, wings flapping occasionally behind him. Thankfully Alastor wasn’t visibly upset, keeping his form and tone fixed. “Guys, Luce, relax! I wanted Alastor the moment I saw him, trust me I know what he’s done and who he is, but there was something about him. You know I’m not that stupid hellion who falls for anybody’s charms, Alastors got something.”
Lucifer didn’t seem to care for your reasoning, instead he glared at Alastor even harder, and pointed his index and middle finger toward his own eyes, and then Alastors. “I’m watching you deer dick.” Then Lucifer turned and stormed off, ignoring your call to come back and relax. Sighing your platinum ears flattened against your hair and head, posture falling. “Come now my dear, don’t dwell on that silly little man’s equally silly and little emotional control! We’re married now! We should be celebrating our fantastical venture into domestic romance!”
Although Alastor was right, the timing was wrong, and his voice was too happy for your state. “I know, but he’s like a second dad, I want him to like you and it stresses me that he doesn’t.” Alastor hums, gently guiding you back upstairs to your now shared bedroom. “Things tend to change with time sweetheart, let this be one of those things that change with time. He can see how good we are together and how good I am for this hotel!” You hummed falling into his side, your tail wagging happily as you reached the bedroom.
“I was also hoping he’d be able to lend us some advice but now I'm doubtful.” The door closed behind you and him, you immediately kicked your shoes off to free the hooves. “What advice dear?” Alastor asked softly, attention focused on untying his bow tie. “Well i’m quite concerned about getting pregnant with a fawn, and I want to know if our mating it’s demon or animal specific.”
The air got tight at the mention of children, and immediately you looked over to him watching his movements stall. His coat was now off leaving him in just his vest and button up. Sighing you rubbed your hand forcefully your forehead, mushing your skin around in an attempt to relieve the conflict in your head. “You mustn’t talk like that, little doe.” Alastors tone was stern, pointed and lacking all radio static, it was just his raw vocals that sounded almost raspy. You felt a few emotions at the way he said that, upset, angry, shocked.
Momentarily you scolded yourself for being so ludacris, this was Alastor! A serial killing, cannibalistic overlord who dealt in black magic, not your fairy prince; there were going to be big bumps and hurdles along the journey and you shouldn’t twist yourself up in a rose coloured fantasy. “Would it be that bad for you?” You couldn’t help but ask, your gaze averted instead focused on the intricate details of the wooden floor.
Alastor growled, slithering up beside you, using his magic to his advantage. “Now my dear don’t look so glum, you’re the first being of any kind to capture my heart. Shouldn’t that be something my dear?” You melted into his side when his arms came up to wrap around your figure. You stayed silent for a moment, not wanting to say the wrong thing and upset either of you. “It just felt saddening I guess, to have you react like that. I know a child is so much work, it is its own being; but when you reacted that way it felt like rejection of me, and us as a couple. Like i’m not good enough to be mated to.” Tears began to gather in your eyes, and you tried your best to keep them at bay, not wanting to cry about something so silly.
Your ears lay flat above your head, Alastor slowly petting the space between them as you spoke. Guiding you to your shared bed, Alastor sat you down, and then himself beside you. “My sweet doe,” Alastor said, smooth as butter, nuzzling himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. “If you so desire a child, we can certainly play into the fantasy, however we haven’t a clue whether it’s truly possible for me to reproduce!”
Resting your head atop his, feeling his soft ears flick and fold, his hair soft and scented with a masculine foresty shampoo. “Alastor,” You whined, making him chuckle darkly. “What about the mating stuff?” Alastor blew air on your shoulder before dragging his sharp teeth up your exposed neck. “My dear I'm sure you and I can figure it out together, no need for some silly devil. Besides we’re the two mated, we know deep down what we’re supposed to do, we knew when we first met each other we were meant to be.” Alastor leaned back from you, cupping your cheek.
You smiled at him enjoying the hazed lidded look Alastor had in his eye. “You have to be nice to Lucifer though.” Alastor growled lowly, the sound reverberating through his chest loudly. It sent shock waves through you, hearing such an animalistic sound from him. “It’s extremely hard to be nice when it’s so easy to make him upset!” Rolling your eyes, you brought your hands up to his face and held his face as he held yours. His ears flattened to each side as his eyebrows quirked, you felt a little bit of pride at the sight, it had only been a few weeks since you’ve been together but Alastor was already way more relaxed around you, to the point of freely showing emotions through movements in his tail and ears.
Pulling him toward you, you gave a soft kiss, which he immediately returned with a hum of approval. Alastors body inches nearer to yours, pressing himself next to you. Alastor broke the kiss, looking down at you with bedroom eyes, you returned the look, grinning at him coyly.
~
Lucifer fumed, stomping around, a week had passed since Lucifer found out you and that god awful creature were a pair. He insisted on staying at the hotel in order to keep an eye on the demon; assure that you were safe. Lucifer kept a keen eye on Alastor, like a fly on the wall, but from what Lucifer could tell, Alastor was a perfect gentleman! It pissed him off entirely. Alastor bent over backwards for you, making your breakfast and coffee every morning, helping you style your hair, helping you dress, assisting you with tasks you loathed completing, hell one night Lucifer caught Alastor teaching you how to play the piano, and when you got angry at your consistent failures, Alastor would reassure you lovingly and patiently.
It drove Lucifer insane because as much as he cared for you, he selfishly wanted Alastor to be a bad partner, giving reason as to why he should leave his two daughters and the hotel alone! But everytime he looked for a flaw he found none, half the time he found himself impressed, Alastor knew what to say, and was confident in his charm. “Dad, you gotta relax! YN is fine.” Charlie said worriedly, placing a hand on her fathers shoulder. Lucifer sighed, slamming his head against the bar table. “They want to have kids, Charlie!” The man sulked, voice muffled by the wooden bar he tried to morph and become one with. “WHAT!? Oh my gosh! That would be amazing! Why wouldn’t she tell me?!” Charlie at this point was violently shaking her father with excitement, a slight bounce in her as she shook him.
Lucifer looked off to the side, guilt evident in his eyes. “They didn’t tell anyone; I overheard.” Today in fact, he overheard the two of you in the back of the hotel, having a picnic in the garden. You had your head in Alastors lap as he pet your hair and ears occasionally, and told you stories from when he was alive; which you greatly enjoyed since you’d been born in hell. When he began to speak about his mother the conversion shifted to parenthood, and then children. Originally Lucifer didn’t intend to stay long, he simply slithered through the grass to eavesdrop a bit, make sure all was well and leave.
But he couldn’t leave when he heard what Alastor had to say. “Y’know dear, I never considered having children, but then again, I never considered being married either. I’ve thought about children now, of course, ha ha,” Alastor laughed boisterously. You could tell it was to cover up the nerves he felt inwardly, but Lucifer found him to be insufferable and inconsiderate. “We don’t know if we can Al,” You said softly, reaching your hand to Alastors cheek. Alastor quirked a brow amusement visibly shining in his eyes that searched your face for something. “We’d just have to wait until mating season darling.” Lucifer gagged at that, you however didn’t quite understand and it made Alastor coo about how adorable you are.
“Oh so we’re not supposed to know they’re gonna try for a baby?” Charlie asked stunned, backing away from her father. “No,” He moaned, slamming his head back down on the table. Charlie gave her dad a look but brushed it off, this was very exciting for her, she’d only tell Vaggie, that way the two could both subtly baby proof the hotel!
~
Autumn in hell roamed around and it was one hell of a year, the hotel went under attack, Lucifer then made himself a whole quarter of the hotel his, and Alastor followed suit with his radio tower, Sir Pentious died, Adam died, there was so much hectic chaos you could barely keep up. Not to mention the beginning of October left you feeling odd, to say the least. You couldn’t completely understand why, not much changed in the recent days, aside from a few sinners checking in. Nothing bad happened between you and Alastor either; things have been fantastic, the two of you would have the occasional spat about morality and manipulation, but Alastor had your soul and was your mate, so in the end you’d give in to him, and he in his own way to you.
One of your biggest points of contention was Alastors multi-beneficial behaviour, if he was going to do something you knew it was double edged, one side benefiting him and the other side doing what he was supposed to with the illusion of being gracious. One of the biggest arguments was kids; Alastor talked about having them in ways that benefited him, how it would rank him above other sinners, he’d have bloodline in hell which would grant him further authority beyond the pride ring, he could train his offspring to be like him. In short, Alastor didn’t want children, he wanted mini hims, to run around killing and eating others.
You tried your best to convince him that a child was no means to power, but he truly couldn’t understand the point of having them besides that. You tried not to blame him, understanding he wasn’t a fairy prince he was Alastor, and you loved him for that, but at times dealing with his psycho was frustrating.
You’ve noticed him acting strange today, he insisted you wore his clothes he’d been wearing the day before, you thought that was the strangest thing and tried to squeeze the reasoning as to why he wanted you to wear his worn dirty clothes. Unfortunately you never fully got the answer out of him, aside from him tutting that he wanted to make ‘that devil’ seethe, so you did. It wasn’t like it really bothered you, hell he even went out of his way to magic the clothes to fit your frame baggily. You wore one of his washed out red button ups, and his slacks, thankfully you found the fit to be somewhat chic and enjoyed the idea of prancing around in clothes that were his, and smelt like him.
Walking down to the lobby like you did everyday, you were greeted by Alastor holding your cup of coffee as always, this time however his appearance looked worrisome. “What’s wrong Al?” You exclaimed rushing over to him, gazing up to him because his form was just slightly elongated. “Nothing my dear! Just a little bit of frazzle this morning!” You didn’t believe that for one second; his antlers were out and looked like they were peeling, his eyes were black and turned to dials, his neck elongated, smile strained and his hair puffed. “Was it you and Lucifer having some marital spat again?” You joke, taking your cup of coffee and following him into the kitchen.
“No dear, please refrain from commenting about that filthy devil, it’s insulting to replace you with him. It’s simply the change of seasons.” Setting his coffee on the counter top, he leaned on it, arms folded and looked over to you. Your ears folded down, a confused look taking over your face. “Is it a deer thing? I woke up feeling strange too, I’m sweating more than usual, and it’s hot, and sometimes my body will start tingling!” You explain hurriedly, slightly worried at what was going on.
Alastor swallowed, smile straining, he wasn’t equipped with how to handle the situation. “Well dear,” Alastor stalled, momentarily scratching the loose felt on his antler. You gazed at him waiting for a response, but it never came, he just filled the air with static, eyeing you up and down. “Hello, Al? I would prefer to know, you look stressed.” You urged leaning toward him, Alastor inhaled deeply, and exhaled a growl. Your body reacted instantly to the noise, feeling a travelling sensation of heat shoot from your groin to your head making you feel dizzy. “If we are to talk about such things, it will not be here.” He snapped eyes closed tightly, fists clenched, you had no clue what was up with him. Just as you were about to urge him further, Lucifer came skipping into the kitchen whistling a tune. “Oh heyyy guys!” Lucifer exclaimed in a valley girl-esque voice, strutting up to the two of you.
“Morning big daddy.” You say jokingly, it wasn’t that big of a deal to you two; you always referred to Lucifer by either his name or some variation of dad. Alastor however didn’t find this to be funny, you and lucifer watched as Alastor grew taller, his static deafening. “Uhhh morning pumpkin,” Lucifer muttered, eyes focused on Alastor as he spoke. You heard the clacking of heels against the floor and your attention turned to the door. Angel paused at the entrance looking between Al and Lucifer. At this point Alastor leered over Lucifer, bent abnormally so, you were eyeing Angel between the gap Alastor left open. You mouthed ‘help’ at Angel, but he only grimaced and slowly backed off. “Do not refer to them that way.”
The air thickened, Alastor was tall and violent looking, there was black substance leaking from between his yellow teeth, the lights were dimmed and flickering, while his radio played creepy and glitchy old timey music. His voice was nearly unrecognisable as he grit his words out at Lucifer, and for the first time in hell, you felt terrified of a sinner. Most of the seven sins weren’t this eerie when they got mad, neither were the hellborns, they mainly just killed whoever crossed them; no one had shown their true demonic powers in front of you before.
“Woah there, big fella… uh, alright! I’ll just leave you two to it! And i’ll be gone!” And just like that Lucifer scurried off in an extremely comical way. Alastor, despite Lucifer gone didn’t come back to himself, still hunched over breathing deeply, static crackling through the air. You didn’t exactly know what to do in this situation, so for a moment you just stood watching. Eventually, after about two minutes of silence, Alastor shrunk, ever so slightly, still tall and creepy but not nearly as much as before. The static ceased, and the lights returned to the usual brightness, Alastor looked down at you, his usual red eyes back. “I’m so sorry dear, I hope I didn’t frighten you.”
You swallowed harshly, you had a strange mix of fear and arousal swirling within you that you weren’t ready to share with the demon, so instead you shook your head, unconvincingly so. “No not at all Al, how come that made you so upset?” A soft record scratch came from him when you asked. “What ever do you mean?” He innocently asked, tone lifted in false innocence. Crossing your arms together, hip propped out, you eyed him closely trying to gage what you were dealing with. As your eyes ran from his antlers down, you stopped crudely at his hips, noting the strain that appeared.
Alastor wasn’t big on sex, and to be fair you didn’t exactly have a high libido either, you preferred make out sessions and sweet romance, not necessarily needing sex. So it wasn’t often you’d see him in such a state, normally he only showed arousal when he was actively involved with you. Without warning he leaned over you, hands splayed across the counter behind you, trapping you between him and the counter. “Naughty little doe, can’t keep your eyes off me?” Alastor mocked darkly, his breath brushing against your cheek. The way he contorted down from his stretched height didn’t look anatomically possible, and despite the terrifying look of him you felt giddy and cheeky, with the urge to egg him on further.
You couldn’t stop the smirk that crawled its way onto your face, biting your lip in an attempt to curb it, unfortunately Alastor saw. Forcefully he grabbed your cheeks with his claws, yanking your face upward to face him properly. “My dear, I’ve been playing nice but i can see the mischief in your eyes-” Before he could finish you flattened your fingers and palm flat against the bulge in his pants. Alastor stilled as you gave him a pout, doe eyes blinking up at him and your white ears pulled back.
Alastor growled at the sight, shamefully bucking into your warm hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it, you're so handsome, y’know?” You whined, your other hand placed on his forearm beside you. Alastor grunted, something you rarely heard from him. “Upstairs, go.” He replied flatly, staring beyond your head at the cabinets above. Giggling manically, you ducked under his arms and sprinted to your shared room. Your body felt on fire and you could feel the arousal between your legs. As you rushed up the stairs you bumped into Angel who grabbed you by the shoulders. “Woah there toots, where ya headed now so cracked out, are things with big red all good?” Before you could respond, Alastors demonic form made way down the hall, shadows crawling out from his feet and knocking out the lights.
“Oh yeah okay, makes sense.” Angel said in a hurry, before taking off leaving you to your own devices. Laughing aloud with a giant grin on your face you continued sprinting down the hall, just barely out of Alastors grasp. His radio was a good tell on how close he was to you, the static was going crazy nearly giving you a headache. You broke out into an anxious run, unable to fight off the anticipation of what would happen. When you got to the room, you ran inside shutting the door. You glanced around and decided a good hiding place would definitely be the most cliche, not under the bed but under a computer desk. You squished yourself underneath the desk, which was incredibly uncomfortable and pulled the chair in to cover you as much as you could.
The door suddenly creaked open, the shadows consumed the floor, the lights dying out. Alastors static couldn’t be heard, but you could hear and feel the vibrations of his footsteps around the room. “Oh sweet thing, I know you don’t truly want to hide from me. Why don’t you come on out to me?” His voice was smooth compared to before, the static left his voice, leaving his unique and rich voice all bare to your ears. The burning sensation in your body worsened and it felt torturous to deny your body any friction, you knew if you moved you were done for.
Despite not being in real danger, your heart kicked up in speed when you heard his nails drag across the wooden desk above, his hooves coming into sight at the corner. Alastor pulled out the chair, humming to himself as he sat down. You held your breath as you watched him spread his lags out, shadows darker than the dark room swarming up behind him. You watched him unbuckle his belt lazily, his head obscured from your view, only his clawed hand and crotch in sight. “Up,” He ordered once his belt was undone, and his shirt untucked. Slithering out from under the desk, you used his thighs to balance and help you lift yourself up. Before you could fully get up he grabbed you by the neck and tugged you into a firey kiss. His teeth scraped against yours, and his tongue instantly took over your mouth, exploring and tainting every inch of your mouth.
You moaned into him as his other hand gripped your hip, digging his nails deep into it. Yanking your body up, you now sat on his lap just below the large bulge he’d been teasing you with. You jerked your hips forward, yearning the friction of him against you. Alastor pulled away a string of saliva still connecting the two of you together, you whined throwing your head back slightly in defiance. You’d never wanted someone so badly before, it was even worse then the first time you’d met Al. Panting you wrapped your arms around his neck, humping him mindlessly, the only focus being on cumming. “Look at you,” Alastor sneered, gripping your hips and pushing you down against him. “So desperate, you’ve got no restraint. I’m disappointed in you, little doe.”
You croaked out what could only be described as a plea, but really it just sounded like a meek shout. Above the two of you Alastors antlers grew out, looking large and broad. “Y’know what time it is my dear.” Alastor groaned watching sweat slip down your chest, eye twitching as he held himself back. “Answer me.” He ordered sticking his nails into your tights, you gasped and moaned finding more pleasure in the act then pain. “No,” You cried softly and breathlessly. At that Alastor brought his head down to nuzzle the top of your head, careful of his antlers, and whispered in your ear. “Mating season.” You stuttered breathing out a “ha” noise, lacking humour and instead being replaced by desperation. In this position you could smell only his scent, and the arousal you left in the air, it made you feel dizzy with lust. You knew what this meant and it edged you further to the fall; he was going to mate you; breed you. You cried his name and begged for nothing, just tugging at his coat and begging for him, and only him.
The demon chuckled darkly moving away from your hair, and with lidded eyes he looked down at you, messily humping him, nearly on the verge of tears. What a sight to behold. His tentacles emerged lifting you above his lap, just enough for him to get his slacks off. Once off, he leaned back, you hoisted in the air still squirming, he practically lit up with a light bulb of an idea. Gripping himself through his boxers, Alastor slowly stroked himself; grinning cheekily up at you as he did so, seeing how instantaneously you were captivated by him. Without your knowledge, the tentacles worked around you, undoing, and slowly pulling off your (alastors), slacks. With one tentacle around your waist, two under each arm, and two underneath your knees keeping your legs pulled apart, there was too many tentacles to notice that your pants and underwear were being discarded.
Not to mention Alastor had you enamoured with the way he stroked himself, humming out noises of approval, just for you. You moaned when you felt the coldness of a tentacle inch up the entirety of your vulva, practically cupping your entire heat. You let out a guttural groan at the sensation, immediately jerking into his magic. “Oh fuck Alastor,” You cried shaking as the tip of the tentacle swirled your clit. Alastor watched you tentatively, enjoying all the ways your body reacted.
Alastor loved watching how your toes curled, or how your stomach would clench visibly, or how you feebly tried to pull your legs together. He sped his movements, enjoying the feeling of himself through his boxers, a little dribble of cum staining a wet spot on his drawers. Alastor rarely jerked off, but god did it feel good to put on a show for you, he loved the ways your eyes only focused on him, never moving away from what he was doing. Alastor saw you were coming close to the end, but if you were to cum, it was going to be around him. With the flick of a wrist, the tentacles plopped you back on his thighs, disappearing and making you cry out.
“Alastor please, please, please, I need you,” You whined bucking up into the air. Alastor grabbed your wrists that were flinging around slightly trying to keep yourself stable. Alastor would be the first to admit, it was extremely hard to keep his smile right now, he wanted to give you other expressions to burn into your brain. “Look at me darling.” Alastor cooed, not enjoying the fact your eyes were squeezed tightly shut. You were still mumbling incoherent pleas as you cracked them open, being greeted by Alastors chest and lazily leaned back figure, he was still stretched out to an abnormal degree which gave you and him more leeway. The way he looked at you as if you were a god, it made your stomach flutter, not to mention how he made you feel so effortlessly small, which in a way felt nice, especially with him.
“You’re so gorgeous dear, I hope our children have your eyes,” You curled forward against your will, gripping his shirt like it was your lifeline. You nearly came at his forwardness not to mention the certainty in his voice, and he found it to be oh so adorable. Carefully he lifted you and lined himself up with you, thanks to the help of his tentacles. Inhaling deeply, he briefly enjoyed the smell of your scent throughout the room, from your sweat, to your fragrances, to your arousal, it all intoxicated him all at once with need. Slowly he sat you down on him, you had made yourself so wet there was barely any resistance, you did however clench making it extremely difficult for Alastor to hold back.
Groaning loudly, the demon smiled wide, straining to keep his composure. You had fallen against his chest, gripping onto him tightly, mouth ajar, drool dripping, and eyes shut tightly, you were in bliss. The only thing your mind could comprehend was him, all of him, and having him breed you, mate you, fill you full of him. At that thought your hips involuntarily bucked up, your clit brushing against the curly pubic hair he had, that trailed up to his bellybutton. Alastor drew in a breath, leaning his head back against the large seat behind him, feeling electrified by your walls around him. Feet planted on the floor Alastor used his footing to fuck up into you harshly, jerking your body upward as he did so. You cried out his name, letting him use your body as he pleased, and use he did. Alastors gentleman ways were far behind him at this moment, his mind was clouded with one purpose and that was to breed you. He harshly jerked his hips up into you, bouncing you up and down on top of him at his own will and pace.
His head was still laid back on the head rest, exposing his neck to you. Speedily, as he jerked up into you, you focused on undoing the buttons of his collared shirt, your mind set on leaving bites and hickeys all along him. Once you gained access to his neck fully, you dived in moaning and dragging your teeth against his warm flesh. This caused him to snap forward, his arms caging you from behind, pushing you into him future. You licked, kissed and bit at his neck occasionally groaning his name, Alastor started to pant violently, growling every so often. Lifting his hips off the chair with you still there, he stood up, his tentacles assisting where ever he needed. With the new posture granted new access, and a new pace. With your legs wrapped his waist you could feel his his tail that wagged and stiffened repeatedly against you, it made your own wiggle in response.
Alastor was a true demon now, pushing your upper half backward, you fumbled afraid to fall and hit your head on the desk, but instead you were pleased to feel four tentacles holding you up, and keeping you from falling. Alastor dragged his claws down your now exposed chest, straight down to your clit, marking the trail down your skin with a discoloured line. It gave you goosebumps and you clenched in anticipation, as his movements had stunted a little bit ago. Finally his eyes met yours, clouded with lust and a deeper red colour than before, speaking of which- he could barely keep them open, so fucked out in his own lust. His movements began, slow and deep at first, his eyes never looking away from yours, and you were too hypnotised by his to even think about looking anywhere else but him. Alastor made sure with every thrust you felt it through your entire body, every prod was deep and forceful, and it worked making you see stars. You cried out clenching your legs around him as he finally began to pick up the pace, jolting your body with ever thrust.
As he rapidly picked up the pace, you moaned, whined and grunted out high pitched noises of pleasure that you never knew you could make. Alastor was growling, and grunting, teeth bared as he jackhammered into you, skin slapping filling the silent room. Bending forward to lean over you, he nipped and bit at your chest leaving prominite triangular teeth marks that were unmistakably his. With the current angle he hit a spot in you that caused you to squeal, screaming his name at the top of your lungs, you reflexively gabbed his antlers. “More, more,” You cried squeezing onto the thick antlers. Alastor moaned, not growled or grunted, moaned. His pitch was lifted and his eyes closed in bliss as he began to hump you desperately, his legs jittery from the excitement. Panting, he lifted his head to meet your eyes, which weren’t facing him but instead the wall, your head turned away shyly. Grabbing your face, he forced your head in his direction and crash his lips against yours.
It was an opened mouth kiss with no rhythm, just teeth, tongue and desire. You both moaned and panted into each others mouths, and each time Alastor let out a breathless moan, you clenched around him. Wrapping his arms around you, Alastor pulled his mouth away noses still touching. “I c-can’t dear, not gonna last.” Alastor gritted, making you whine and mutter incoherently, you were already gushing fluids all down his legs and balls like a water fountain. “Oh fuck,” Alastor moaned his static glitching in and out. His pace suddenly quickened to a sickening degree, every thrust he let out a breathy growl. “Gonna breed you,” He muttered against your lips before crashing them against you, with the senstaion of wet pubic hair bumping against your swollen clit, and his body heat suffocating you, you couldn’t hold out any longer. The coil snapped in you, liquid gushing rapidly out of you painting his cock with your fluids, your body violently convulsed against him, screeching his name like a wild animals.
Alastors eyes turned to dials as his pace quickened, your orgasm bringing his own on as he felt the pressure break, without care he continually hammered into you, moaning and groaning your name into the nape of your neck. Around the room the lights violently flickered and flashed various colours, the radio off to the side flicking on and off with a strange tune. The amount of cum he strung out felt inhuman, and it felt like it was bloating you up. After a few moments of him whining and fucking into you, his cum so bountiful it ended up leaking out of you with every pump. Eventually he stilled falling against you and his tentacles that were also shaking with strain and exhaustion. The flickering lights and crazy stereo glitching ceasing. Alastor gripped you tightly, his shadows encasing the two of you, and releasing you on your shared bed. Alastor hadn’t pulled out of you, instead he pulled you closer, his body snapping back to his regular size, and snuggled himself into your back.
You were barely responsive, still dazed and confused trying to catch your breath. Alastor played with your fingers absentmindedly, kissing your exposed shoulder. Sighing happily, you wiggled yourself back up into him. “I love you dear.” Alastor muttered, silently voice muffled from the fact his face was buried against your shoulder. “I love you too.” You felt him freeze against you, suppose he didn’t expect you to be coherent enough for you to realize or respond.
~
“I just think there’s something more going on ere’.” Angel teased grinning at you, Lucifer hand his head down against the bar, Charlie and Vaggie sat on the couch, Vaggie looked tired and pissed off. Husk was, well Husk, and Nifty was nowhere to be seen. “What do you mean?” You say innocently sitting at a chair with your morning coffee by your side. “Oh please! The whole seven rings heard you two!” The king wailed, grabbing his hat so hard it may have ripped. You felt heat crawl up your neck at the claim, surely you weren’t that loud right? “Oh ya! The whole hotels hydro went out, thanks a lot strawberry pimp, made my stereo go all haywire.” Angel snickered poking your thigh with a raise of his eyebrows. Alastor stood tall behind you, a relaxed smile on his face. “I had to hear you two moan all morning yesterday!” Lucifer cried out throwing himself off the chair dramatically throwing himself around in despair. Alastor growled beside you, and when you glanced up you were surprised to see his ears pinned back.
“Guys cmon, you’re making me uncomfortable.” You say, you weren’t at all uncomfortable, but you worried that Alastor may have been, and you knew he wouldn’t enjoy being pushed under the bus and presented as weak to sexual teasing. Charlie thankfully ushered her father a way, and Vaggie walked off with her giving both you and Alastor a glare. The room was momentarily silent once they left, you eyed Angel, and Husk throwing back alcohol at the bar. “So, kids eh?” Immediately Alastor morphed into his demonic form at Angels words. You gave Angel a look but he wasn’t afraid of either of you, instead he giggled and skipped over to Husk.
~
Cuddled down in your brand new duvets, compliments of Lucifer, you waited for your husband to get back. Thankfully Alastor was always punctual and never kept you waiting long. Beside you on the left side of the bed was a crib, decked out in soft pinks and reds, with black accents all around. Attached to the crib was a demonic mobile, with little wooden runes, teeth, and horn hung on it handmade by Alastor. You had given birth to your baby only a week ago, and Alastor was doting, and a little obsessed. He wouldn’t let you leave the hotel, and very rarely the room. If you did leave you were followed by him, his shadows and Husk. He’d been out today all day, doing a special broadcast which involved slaughtering dozens of citizens and broadcasting it just as a friendly reminder as to not get in his way, or mess with him.
It felt a little wrong, Alastor had told you his plans and when you looked down at your baby girls face you couldn’t deny him, you wanted people to stay away, so neither of you told Charlie or Lucifer where he’d be going, just that he’d be gone. And he was supposed to return shortly, you made sure to listen in on his torturous journey, slightly enjoying how hot he sounded. Beside you, Mara, your baby girl, stirred making baby noises as she did so. Leaning over you peaked in to see if she was actually awake or simply shuffling and making noises in her sleep. When you looked over you were greeted with big (e/c) baby eyes of your daughter, she had alastors hair and ears, but thankfully lacked his yellow teeth, you loved your husband but it was uh, his aesthetic. Scooping her up you cooed to her and placed her on your bare chest, petting the tiny wisps of red hair that sprout from her head. She was warm, and smelt like brand new baby, fresh skin, with fragments of yourself and Alastor lingering. Being a deer certainly heightened the pregnancy process, and Alastors fears of being like the wild bucks above on earth were quickly dismissed.
Alastor was enamoured with Mara the moment you found out you were pregnant, it was a very trying time considering everybody was absolutely against it or absolutely infatuated, you had people telling n the news obsessively writing articles about you two, Vox was absolutely up your guys’ ass, and Lucifer was his own little problem. He never left Alastor alone always hounding him on how to be a good dad and to not ‘eat the baby’, which always made the room go silent. Alastor suddenly materialized in the room, black shadows crawling away from his form as he stepped in. Immediately his eyes zeroed in on you and Mara, eyes brightening at the sight. Slinking over to the bed, Alastor slid in beside you arm coming around your shoulder while the other pet the baby’s head and little ears. “She’s just a beauty! Oh if only my mother could meet her.” You looked over to him at that, a little surprised at that, you were very aware he was a mommas boy but never had you thought of the fact he’s been so far from her for so long, and that he may inwardly desire to have her back in his life.
Little hands came up and grabbed onto Alastors long fingered claw, brining it to her mouth, Mara began to ‘chew’ on him. You grinned happily at the sight, Alastor chuckling beside you. “So, I was listening over the radio, but regardless, how’d it go?” You ask twisting your body toward him, he hummed pulling his hands away from Mara. “Oh it was spectacular, everything went swimmingly. I briefly met up with Rosie and relayed the news, she's absolutely thrilled at the birth of Mara, says we must come by with her for lunch.”
“Will you let that happen, I haven’t seen the outside in days.” Alastor hummed flatly giving you a playful cut eye. “Perhaps a day will be fine.” You snorted, focusing your attention back on the baby, placing a kiss on her forehead. “So, whadaya think, grandpa Luc-” Alastor quickly interjected. “Immediately no, but go on.” You laughed aloud, shaking your head at his behaviour. “Grandpa Luci, Uncle Angel, Uncle Husk, Auntie Charlie, Aunt Vaggie, then we have Cousin Nifty, andddd.” You trail off thinking about who else could be added to the equation. “Godmother Rosie?” Alastor pipped up, seeming genuinely happy, you agreed instantly, loving the idea of Rosie being the godmother should anything happen to you two. Or Lucifer, or Charlie.
Alastor gently gestured to the baby, signaling he wanted to hold her, so you passed her over delicately watching as she melted into Alastors chest. “So dear,” Alastor said with a mischievous tone, head tilting towards you. “Shall we feed her deer meat? I think it’s good to start em young!” You groaned, and rolled your eyes it seemed your first fatal relationship argument was kids, and now the next will be what to feed them.
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twizzie-lairs · 1 year ago
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My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 14- FINALE!)
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |
Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 - Final
Part 14:
A few weeks had passed by the time you were fully recovered. In those weeks, the hotel was busy and bustling in preparation for the wedding.
To make sure you recovered properly, Charlie insisted that she and Vaggie be in charge of wedding planning during this time. You didn't have any objections to it, your only requirements were that it was kept low-key (meaning a small wedding with only those closest to you guys) and that it was to be a simple and short ceremony with Charlie as the officiant.
While the rest of the gang were busy going about their normal lives and helping out with some preparation here and there, Alastor had your belongings moved to his room and took care of your injuries and saw to your recovery personally.
It broke his heart to see how badly you had been injured prior to your arrival at the hotel. He also felt extremely guilty about how roughly he had treated you, accidentally making some of your injuries worse temporarily. To heal his heart and mind, he had to heal your body first.
The two of you spent so much time together, hardly ever spent a moment apart- you two had a lot of lost time to make up for after all. Often as Alastor tended to your injuries, changed your bandages, and even helped bathe you to ensure you wouldn't slip or fall as you got in and out of the tub- you two exchanged stories of all kinds. Stories from when you were both alive, your pasts when alive, and so much that had happened in the decades in Hell that had passed when the two of you were separated.
As the date of the ceremony approached, after you had mostly recovered, matters required you to leave the hotel more often.
For example, when it came to dress shopping, Alastor was very insistent that he had to come with- he was still very paranoid that if you were separated from his side that you would come to harm. Though with enough pestering- Charlie was finally able to convince him to stay at the hotel so that the wedding dress shopping party only consisted of you, Charlie, and Angel.
Shopping with the two of them was a fun memory you'll never forget, with lots of laughter because of the hilarious contrast between Charlie's wholesome comments/tearing up and Angel's teasing/cat-calling (in a loving way- of course). Though when you finally tried on the dress, even Angel had no witty comebacks to respond with, both him and Charlie were left speechless.
Angel and Charlie weren't the only ones speechless - when those who were invited to the wedding showed up the hotel, they all had their mouths gaping open at the amazing decor. They few guests assumed that the invitation they received in the mail was a prank!
(Charlie may have needed to ask some favors from Lucifer for the decorations- though he couldn't hide his disgust as to who his daughter was asking him to do this for... His distaste for Alastor was always apparent. But who are we kidding- Lucifer can't resist Charlie's puppy-dog begging eyes no matter what.)
Jovial jazz music filled the air as Alastor walked out into the main lobby, "Why hello! It is so good to see you, Rosie! ... Mimzy."
"Oh Alastor! How come ya never introduced me to ya darlin' (y/n) before!" Rosie flashed her signature smile and sauntered over to give Alastor a tight hug.
"Yeah! Geeze, Alastor, after all we've been through, you never thought to bring her over to my joint or ya know, let me know she was even down here! I've missed the gal too, ya know!" Mimzy stomped on over to Alastor, hands on her hips as she glared at him.
"Hmmmm. Ah yes, Mimzy. How could I ever forget to bring her over to your... "sophisticated"... bar where she "definitely wouldn't" be in danger?" Static noises started to interrupt the music that had started playing earlier. Alastor would be lying if he said he was happy to see Mimzy. He knew she was important to you, but part of him can't help but blame her for your early death. Not only that, but she always had a habit of bringing trouble wherever she went, forcing him to clean up her messes. He didn't trust her to keep you out of danger.
"Well! If I do say so myself, I am parched! Where can a lady quench her thirst in this joint?" Rosie piped up to break up the tension as she walked around the room and examined the decor some more. "Alastor, I really love what ya guys did to this place- stunning work, really!"
"Oh my gosh, hi, Rosie! Nice to meet you again, Mimzy! It's been so long!" Charlie seemingly burst out of nowhere and shook both Rosie and Mimzy's hands. For once Alastor was thankful for the princess's ability to not read the room.
"This way, this way! The ceremony will be held in one of the ballrooms, follow me!"
After being relieved of Rosie and Mimzy's presence, Alastor disappeared into the shadows to retreat into this radio tower where he would remain until it was time.
With Rosie and Mimzy's arrival, the last of the guests had arrived. Yup, it was a very small group- just as you had requested (much to Alastor's relief. He could easily handle people, but you knew large groups of people irritated him much more than he would let on).
Meanwhile, Angel was helping you get ready. He knew his way around makeup and beauty the best out of anyone in the hotel after all.
You sat on a stool as Angel fussed over all the little details of your hair and makeup. As he did so with remarkable speed (due to his many arms), you found yourself smiling.
Not only was it the day that you would finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor, but you found yourself smiling as you reminisced on the journey that led up to this moment- how you've come to truly cherish your newfound friendships with everyone at the hotel.
Angel, who became a very close friend to you after you two had many heart-to-hearts and shared a fondness for cracking jokes, something you discovered over many nights at the bar together. Often after you two were done at the bar, you'd have beauty/spa nights which often led to more gossip sessions- something you were never able to indulge in when you were alive. Occasionally even Cherri joined in on the gossip sessions- practically bursting the door down if she ever felt like stopping by unannounced.
Husk, was someone you could always trust him to give his honest and objective opinion on anything you asked- which you found to be invaluable whenever you showed him any of your art. Though he often didn't understand the abstract complexities you drew, it was always a great source of entertainment for you- his confusion apparent as he tried to interpret it seriously before giving up with a "Fuck it, I don't know anything about this bougie shit!" - always causing you to erupt in laughter every time without fail.
Charlie, of course, was always your ray of sunshine and was someone you very much respected. She saved your life without knowing who you were, regardless of the potential danger. You feel as if you'd never be able to repay her kindness, so you offer to stay at the hotel even after you recover and help work however you can after the wedding.
Vaggie, you felt a kindred spirit in and also respected a great deal. Someone with such an intense sense of justice and duty was truly a sight to see, you could always see it in her eyes. She was often busy, so you hadn't been able to spend as much time with her as you would have liked to so far, the few times you were able to sit down with her were always a pleasure. Whenever she needed love/relationship advice, she came to you. Funnily enough, Charlie did too, so you were flattered that the two girls liked and trusted you so much.
Even Nifty, who always made sure to dust you or pluck some random out-of-place hair whenever she saw you, stopped calling you stinky! You wondered if it was because you spent most of your time around Alastor...?
"Alright! Hehe, you look absolutely stunning if I do say so myself, doll face!" Angel stood back from you to admire his work with a huge satisfied grin on his face.
He spun you around to face the mirror that your back was previously facing, "Hey, whaddya think? One of my best works yet!"
You chuckle and lean in closer to the mirror, "Wow... Angel! Gosh... you never cease to amaze me!"
You then stand up and give Angel a hug, "Thank you... Angel... this means a lot to me..." Angel pulls back from the hug and nudges you in the shoulder, "Hey now toots, no crying on me now! We just finished your makeup, don't go ruining it now!"
"I know! I know! Haha!" You laugh and smack him back playfully.
"Ah shit, it's almost time, we gotta get a move on, come on!" Angel quickly grabs your bouquet with one hand and takes your hand wit another and leads you down what feels like a maze of corridors. He lets go of your hand when the two of you reach a set of double doors that indicates it's one of the ballrooms and not just a regular room.
Upon hearing your arrival, you see Charlie's head peek out of the door. After seeing you standing there, she quickly sneaks of the ballroom. "FIrst of all- oh my gosh (y/n)! You look BEAUTIFUL! But it's time for your entrance, lets go!" Charlie offers her arm out to you. You link your arm through her's, then you look over at Angel who hands you your bouquet, "You got this ,(y/n)." He said with a wink before slipping into the ballroom.
You took a deep breath and looked at Charlie who gave you a heartwarming nod as she took a step closer to the door, hand grasping the handle. "Ready, (y/n)?"
"I've been ready for decades."
Upon entering the small ballroom, soft jazz music filled the air and you gasped as you took a look around the stunningly decorated space. Charlie was very insistent that this be a surprise and by god, you were speechless- you never could have dreamed of a more beautiful space to finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor. You were starting to get misty-eyed already!
The very same Alastor who was now all dressed up in a new formal outfit and stood at the other end of the ballroom with his hand outstretched towards you. It took all the self-control you had to keep you from running into his arms right then and there.
Walking to the front, you pass by the small group of friends both you and Alastor had invited to this exclusive occasion. You could see Rosie clutching her hands to her chest in awe, Mimzy was trying to fight back tears as she kept dabbing her eyes (ruining her makeup in the process), and the rest of the hotel members. Angel was clinging onto Husk for dear life as you heard a quiet whisper from the spider that was accompanied by a dramatic sniffle, "Oh god I never knew I was capable of feeling so sappy."
You chuckled at the sight of Nifty, who volunteered to be your "flower girl". She was scurrying all around, scattering petals but then immediately picking them back up again like it was the best game ever!
"Oh, be still my dead-yet-beating heart" You thought to yourself as you finally reached the front of the ballroom and were able to place your hands in Alastor's. You'd never seen Alastor this dressed up before. You always thought he was attractive but oh my god, was this a whole new playfield that you didn't even know was possible!
Charlie then went to stand next to Vaggie, who were both your officiants for the wedding. A bit untraditional, sure, but this was Hell- everything's a bit unconventional here.
The music fades to a quiet level before Charlie pipes up, starting the ceremony, "Thank you all for coming to celebrate this momentous occasion with us today! Today we are here to commemorate the marriage between (y/n) and Alastor!"
"In a shocking twist of events, the last few weeks have proven us wrong that yes, even the Radio Demon, is still capable of love." This remark from Vaggie earns a few chuckles from those sitting in the guest seats, earning a glare from Alastor as he tightened his grip on your hands. You rub your thumbs over his hands in reassurance, causing his grip to relax again. You smile at Charlie and Vaggie, nodding as you signal them to continue.
Charlie cleared her throat before she continued, "Ahem! Yes! But with that, we also gained an amazing new friend here - (y/n)! And I just want to say (y/n) that I am SO proud of you, you've done nothing but bring lots of joy and laughter into this hotel. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we love you and appreciate you (y/n)! Alastor is a very lucky man and we are honored to be a part of your journey!" You could hear some applause and a holler that likely came from Angel- because you heard a scoff from Husk that followed immediately after.
"That's right, Charlie! Because we respect you both so much, we'll not delay you two love-birds from finally exchanging your vows any longer." Vaggie said as she dragged Charlie away to take a seat in the audience.
You take a deep breath and look into Alastor's eyes, your heart racing a mile a minute.
"I honestly thought I would know what to say by now! I've been dreaming of this day for decades!" You nervously laugh out loud before continuing, "All I can think about now is how thankful I am to have met you when we were alive. You gave me a spark of light and hope in the darkness that I never thought was possible in my life. Meeting you gave me the courage to break free from the cage that kept me trapped like a poor little bird who couldn't fly free. You showed me what true love should be like- even if it meant eating a few people along the way... haha. But you treasured me, you gave my life meaning again and I'll always love you. I'll always be your's, Alastor."
You look down at the floor, embarrassed that you spilled your heart out in front of so many people. Now it was Alastor's turn to reassure you with a gentle squeeze of the hands.
"My dearest (y/n), now, I am not usually one to be so 'sappy'- especially in the company of others, however, I think I can make an exception for you this one time."
Alastor took one hand, the other still holding your other hand, and gently lifted your chin back up so that your gaze would be back on him. To say that this made your heart skip a few beats would be an understatement!
"It may still shock you all, but yes, (y/n) is indeed my beloved that was taken from me all too soon back when we were alive. When I buried her body and held her in my arms for what I thought was the last time- I said these words that still ring true to this very day and will continue to do so forever more-, ' In life and in death, I am forever yours, as you are forever mine. I love you, (y/n)' " You feel the tears start to well up even more, threatening to burst forth at any second, all while not breaking eye contact with him as he continues on.
"I truly relish in this opportunity to finally make you mine, as I had wished to do so for what feels like an eternity. Much like you had described dear, your surprise appearance in my day-to-day life truly shook my world. Why, upon meeting you for the very first time, hearing your voice felt like it was akin to listening to most beautiful music I had ever heard- truly! As a radio host, I was very familiar with many musicians, but no instrument or vocalist ever held a candle to you my dear. No ever has and no one ever will, and I will be sure to protect you at all costs this time, ma chérie ..."
As he trailed off, your face immediately flushed red all over at Alastor's vows. But before you had time to process what was happening, Alastor manifested a new pair of rings and slid one onto your left hand, replacing the previous one. Then with a snap of the fingers, the other matching ring appeared on his left hand.
Somehow the rings were even more beautiful than the one you had before. Upon seeing the sight of both your and Alastor's hands finally wearing matching rings, you burst out into tears, overcome with emotion.
Alastor chuckles before pulling you in for a kiss- shocking everyone in the room, everyone making a collective gasp. Even your own eyes were wide open in shock, before you then relaxed into the kiss in Alastor's embrace.
It wasn't before long that the room was filled with cheers, hoots, hollers, and clapping.
Pulling away from the kiss, Alastor leaned his forehead against your's- just a brief sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he stared lovingly into your eyes. You sniffle as you return the smile, chuckling at the sensation of your cheeks feeling sore from smiling so much and so intensely.
"I truly adore you with all my heart and soul, dearest. Thank you, for being the one to complete me."
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honeydewandcake · 5 months ago
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TW — Asylum/Hospital setting, mental disorders, medical malpractice
Inspired by Fran Bow, Sparklecare, Pure Trance, and other such things; I had an idea for a Dandy’s World AU that centers around a hospital setting
I feel like a lot of people don’t like asylum or hospital AUs because they are full of exaggerated or misinformed ideas of what mental illness is. I tried not to do that, though I’m not a professional so I still might be wrong about some things. I don’t want to take this idea too far in fear that it might be distasteful, but I do want to share this idea to see if others like it too.
Dandy’s Care is a separate world where, instead of a museum, Dandy and his friends were meant to be for a children’s hospital to treat the sick and ill. They were meant to be comfort characters to patients and were meant to support them during their stay. Like in Dandy’s World, the hospital shut down due to unspecified sanitation issues. Dandy, also known as Dr. Dandicus Dancifer, slowly became more and more starved for activity. He started targeting his friends, making the hospital into an asylum for them. He changed their characters, changing his friends into patients. The toons have no memory of their former self, only knowing their diseased and ill present self.
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The staff is made up of the main toons. All of them are nurses and Dandy is the main doctor. They all act like their former selves, though they have no memory. I didn’t want to draw all of them so just imagine Astro and Vee in these uniforms.
Read more to see other toons (not all of them drawn or thought of yet, don’t attack me ;-;) ↓
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Razzle and Dazzle, the only ones that I thought of completely because I already drew them before. They’re the reason why I made this entire thing anyway.
They are just experiments by Dandy, who wanted to see if the two could live together if they were attached. They used to love each other, now they don’t. Razzle is no longer looking for comedy, Dazzle is no longer looking for hope. Both are only set on the idea of revenge against Dandy for making them this way.
Life is hard when you can only feel the sensations on one half on your body, they can barely walk and can only stand or sit. They take many painkillers as their wounds take a long time to health properly. They wish they could escape this place and just die already, but they’re stuck and forced to live for as long as Dandy wants.
Razzle is a lot more violent now. He is prone to biting and scratching the staff. He hates doing all the lab tests and medical procedures, he hates being near Dazzle, he hates being stuck in this living hell. Razzle is the reason why they’re not allowed near sharp or blunt objects.
Dazzle became paranoid, scared of any noise that happens. He’s terrified of Razzle because of how violent he can get, he hates him too. Dazzle cries a lot, he cries until he can’t everyday. Dazzle wishes he could just die already, he thinks everything is scary and out to get him.
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Shrimpo is thought to be a patient that had anger issues and aggressive tendencies. According to Dandy, he was admitted for being violent in public, although this is only part of the fake story that Dandy gave him. Shrimpo was forced to get a lobotomy, unethical but who cares. Dandy sure didn’t.
He’s still in the recovery phase, so he might be a bit loopy. Once those bandages are off, he’ll be as right as rain. Shrimpo is a wanderer around the hospital as he’s no longer a threat. He’s allowed to leave his room and go out in the play yard but only if a nurse is with him.
Shrimpo doesn’t really have much going for him. His thoughts are scrambled and he only cares for things in front of him. Although the lobotomy made him more passive, it doesn’t mean he’s any better in terms of motivation. Shrimpo certainly has no drive for anything anymore, he doesn’t mind but it gets in the way of his health as well. The staff needs to remind him to go to the dining room to eat or to go take a shower, because otherwise he’ll forget.
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Boxten was made to believe that he has had problems with insomnia ever since he was little, of course it’s not true. He takes sleeping pills and melatonin, but it only seems to worsen his nightmares. This makes him skip his doses to avoid sleeping, repeating the cycle over and over.
Boxten is afraid of imaginary things that might get him. He thinks they’ve already in his head, eating away at his brain and giving him nightmares. Of course the only thing the nurses can see is his music box. Boxten has lost all trust in the staff since they couldn’t see or feel the things he can.
In my original notes, it said that Boxten might have psychosis.
Well that’s all the once I’ve drawn, I don’t really have the motivation to make every single toon. I have a couple of ideas though
— Goob somehow survived a terrible accident, but both his arms needed to be amputated making him armless. He suffers from brain damage and internal bleeding. He doesn’t seem to have any change in his personality, still as joyful as ever. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism
— Tisha has severe OCD which damages her mental health. She’s constantly worried about everything that happens around her, making her super aware of her surroundings. She could be a danger to herself and others as she sometimes has very aggressive thoughts but can’t control her actions. She unintentionally hurts herself because of her OCD, such as washing her hands so many times that they start to bleed.
Not for a toon, but I did have an idea for an added addition to the hospital. Maybe there’s a twisted reform center where the staff try and heal twisteds back to their normal self. They would clean the ichor from them but since the ichor is also inside of them their personalities don’t change as much. Twisteds such as Finn and R&D might be too far gone though, they would have to be disabled for life. I might draw this idea because I think it’s kind of cool, I definitely will if people also think this is interesting.
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thedubiousdallon · 1 month ago
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Okay, fuck it, I've built up enough goodwill with this sideblog - let's risk it all by sharing my opinions on how Amy is handled in Ward.
It's kinda complicated I think.
Okay, now that I've resisted the urge to immediately hit post for the bit: I think the way her interludes are written substantially flattens her character in a way that I find distasteful and unpleasant, but I find the overall shape of her arc and her role in the narrative compelling. The things I dislike have been well-covered by plenty of other people in the fandom, so I'm going to focus on the things I like.
To talk about Amy's role in Ward, I first need to talk about my interpretation of Ward as a whole. To me, Ward is, above all else, about trauma and recovery. Society is traumatized by the end of the world, the shards are traumatized by the death of Scion and their loss of purpose, individuals are traumatized by all the things individuals are traumatized by. As an aside, this reading is a big reason why I'm not too bothered by a lot of the world building choices that other people frequently (and fairly) criticize - I think many of them serve this theme effectively.
One specific facet of that reading that I find particularly compelling is Ward's interest in people who are traumatized not just by the harm done to them, but by the harm they've done. Characters don't just regret what they've done, they don't just want to be better, they are traumatized by it, and their reactions to that trauma are as messy and complicated as any other traumatized people. I don't always agree with the stances the text takes on how to deal with having done harm and been traumatized as a result, but I find the exploration of the topic compelling.
Enter The Altruistic Amy Dallon.
Amy's arc in Worm was, to a degree, a prototype of this kind of storytelling. She is repeatedly and horrifically traumatized, the actions she eventually takes in response to that experience inflict equally horrific trauma on her victim, and she is further traumatized by her own actions almost to the point of ego death. She removes herself from the environment she was in, begins rebuilding her sense of identity and ethics, and reemerges having grown, prepared to do better going forward and to make reparations for her past actions as best she can. Arc done! It's satisfying and cathartic, and we leave content in the knowledge that the part she's on will take her to better places. It's the quintessential appeal of a redemption arc, and it's a strong example of its type.
There's something people like to say a lot when talking about mental health and personal growth in real life, and that is that progress isn't linear. It's an important truth to understand.
It's rarely true in fiction. Very often, in redemption arcs, in personal growth arcs, after a series of false starts and setbacks, the character reaches a critical point where they resolve their conflict and either overcome it or succumb to it. From that point on, their nature or behavior is fundamentally changed - if they've grown they never relapse past a certain point, or do so only fleetingly, or else never improve past a certain point. This makes sense from a storytelling perspective, but it doesn't map to how growth often works in real life.
In Ward, Amy occupies the very rare narrative position of being who completes her arc of growth and redemption, who crosses that critical threshold of lasting, meaningful change... but backslides anyway, to the point of essentially losing all that progress.
It's an outcome that I find very believable for her, honestly. Her newfound worldview and conviction were forged in the very insular environment of the Birdcage - of course they would be impacted by her new environment. She says at the end of Ward that she had been able to excuse all of her worst behavior because she had convinced herself that she could fix anything - and at the end of Worm, I can see how she would come to think that! She's been pardoned and released from Forever Prison, she overcame her old aversion to brains to create Khepri and thereby saved the world, she's formed a positive relationship with the father she never thought she'd meet, she's receiving love and support from parents she never felt good enough for, she's using her powers to help people in a way that doesn't make her want to die, and she even "fixed" Victoria, when failing to do that before was the final nail in the coffin she just finished clawing her way out of! The sheer number of seemingly impossible things she's accomplished, of apparently irreversible failures she's seemingly put right, is mind boggling! It'd be the easiest thing in the world to let that go to your head!
Her social circle is also a perfect environment to enable her worst tendencies - there's no one left in it whose opinion she trusts that's willing to call her on her shit. Marquis doesn't see anything wrong with her behavior, Carol is trying to make up for a decade of neglect and unwarranted criticism, Mark just wants everybody to get along and be happy, and Riley and Rinke are pretty shaky on this whole human decency thing themselves! With a (not unjustified) pride in how far she'd come, a circle of willing enablers, a complete lack of moderating influences, and a bulletproof get-out-of-moral-culpability-free card, and two years to spiral, I find her backsliding to be completely believable. And given that Victoria is the fly in the ointment to all of this, that her continued refusal to have anything to do with Amy gives lie to Amy's belief that she can fix anything, and thereby puts the entire edifice of her self-rationalizations at risk, it also makes perfect sense to me that Amy would become fixated on her, on proving that she really can fix anything.
Of course, being believable isn't the same thing as being compelling. The thing that makes all this so resonant for me is that, at the end of Ward, after being this grasping spectre that haunts Victoria the whole book, after rejecting countless opportunities to demonstrate a hint of self-awareness or the slimmest motivation to change - Amy does. She sits down with a therapist. She rips off the band-aid - both the metaphorical one and the literal one made out of Victoria's skin, jesus christ Amy - looks at what she's done, at how she went awry, and resolves to do better. And we end with her in essentially the same place she was at the end of Worm: prepared to do better going forward and to make reparations as best she can. But the journey she has taken to get there gives the destination entirely new meaning for me. She's already fumbled her chance at redemption! But her journey gives lie to the idea that you only have one chance, or two, or any finite number! Every moment you draw breath is a chance to do better.
To me, Amy Dallon's arc in Ward shows that the most important step you can take is the next one, and no matter how many times you walk up and down that road, it never stops being true. And I find that compelling as hell.
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the-penguin-of-baskervilles · 2 months ago
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Chapter 30
The Princess & the Lawyer
Summary: Princess makes slow progress in her recovery. Meanwhile, Lloyd’s hunt for answers leads him into a trap.
Word Count: 1,550
Warnings: Adult content, cannon level violence, coarse language, 18+ readers only. 
Masterlist 
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Chapter 30: The Spy in Apartment Five
Lloyd’s footsteps echoed off the cement walls of the stairwell as he climbed toward Princess’ apartment. The cinder block walls smelled faintly of mildew, and the chill of the metal railing under his palm hinted at how sharply the temperature had dropped. Gale-force winds had eased into spitting snow, and for once, Lloyd found the snow preferable.
Three-quarters up the third flight of stairs, his phone buzzed. Pausing, he glanced at the caller ID before answering.
“Phillip,” he said, wedging the phone against his ear.
“Hello, Mr. Hansen. I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”
“It’s as good as any.”
“I’ve found the perfect item for you. It checks all your boxes—expensive, elegant, timeless. One of a kind. The pearls are perfectly matched, and the craftsmanship—”
“What did it appraise for?” Lloyd cut in.
“Just over $400,000.”
“And the value ten years ago?”
“It was last sold five years ago for $319,000. The craftsmanship is exquisite.” 
“I’ll take it. Have a courier bring it over around three.”
“Are you sure? Perhaps you’d like to see pictures. I can email them…”
“No. Just bill my account.” 
Lloyd ended the call and slid the phone into his pocket. He climbed the last steps, reaching the fourth floor. Moving quickly down the hall, he stopped at the fifth door on the right. Princess’ apartment.
He inserted his copy of the key, unlocked the door, and pushed it open with deliberate care. A faint mechanical click halted him. His breath caught and the familiar sound raised the hair on the back of his neck. Freezing, he peered through the narrow gap. A device sat perched on the edge of the foyer table, a fishing line running from its trigger to the door.
Lloyd’s gaze tracked the wire. A Claymore mine. A few more inches, and it would’ve been the end of him—and likely anyone within thirty meters.
He unhooked the wire from the door, keeping the tension steady, and eased inside. Wrapping the wire around his hands, he edged toward the mine, eyes glued to the pressure plate trigger. Finally, he was close enough to disengage the pins in the trigger device. After securing the wire and disarming the bomb, he rolled his shoulders out, breathing deeply as relief washed over him.
He crouched down and inspected the device. “M18 Claymore… half a pound of C4…” Lloyd shook his head. “Fucking over kill.” 
The destructive power would’ve leveled the room and thrown enough shrapnel into the surrounding apartments to kill any unfortunate occupants. Grimacing, he reassembled the trap exactly as he’d found it. The element of surprise mattered more than his personal distaste for the task and he promised himself that it was only a temporary measure.
Lloyd moved down the short hallway and stepped over a second tripwire, spotting another Claymore. “Asshole,” he grumbled, sneering at the booby trap. 
In the living room, he settled on the sofa. His eyes narrowed on a leather tote bag resting on the armchair. Princess’ work bag. The one missing since the car accident. On the coffee table, a file lay open. Lloyd leaned forward, reading the label. He scowled, sighed, rubbed his aching temples, and sat back to wait.
It didn’t take long.
The sound of the front door opening was followed by the quiet disarming of the first Claymore. Instead of coming down the hallway, the footsteps turned and went into the kitchen. Rustling takeout bags and the clang of a drawer signaled activity on the other side of the wall. 
Lloyd steepled his fingers and waited, staying perfectly still.
A man emerged from the kitchen holding a container of curry that smelled of fragrant spices. At the sight of Lloyd in the living room, he froze.
“Hello, Courtland.”
“Lloyd.”
“Nice setup with the Claymore. Overkill, but more contained than Prague.”
“Prague wasn’t me,” Court said, setting the box of curry on the coffee table.
“Cahill?”
Court nodded.
“Impressive.” Lloyd crossed his legs. “Go ahead, sit down. Your lunch is getting cold.”
“How did you find me?”
“Simple deduction. You needed a place to lay low, and Princess’ apartment was convenient.”
“How is she?”
“Awake. Mostly alert,” Lloyd said. “Her coordination and fine motor skills are off and her words don’t come easily, but she’s doing better.”
Court’s expression hardened, guilt flickering beneath the surface. Lloyd tried to enjoy it but found satisfaction elusive. He watched as Court took a few bites and then asked, “How much does she remember?”
“Bits and pieces. The doctors say that’s normal. Their long-term prognosis is optimistic, but it’ll take months of rehab to get her back to normal.”
Court studied him. “You don’t sound optimistic.”
“Looking at her now, it’s hard to see recovery as possible. It takes faith… more than I have.”
Court tilted his head. “You’ve never seen someone you love in pain before, have you?”
“No. Not like this.”
“Are you going to stick around for her? Or are you going to fall apart?”
“She doesn’t need me. I’ve done enough damage by dragging her into this.”
Court snorted. “That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”
“Mind your own business, Gentry.”
Lloyd’s gaze shifted to Princess’ notebook on the table. “You always rifle through women’s things when you trespass in their apartments?”
“I’m a spy. So were you.”
“Touché.”
Court picked up a water bottle. “She left it in your office. I brought it here to keep it out of evidence lockup.”
“Reading it was part of keeping it safe?”
Court smirked. “Hey, I solved my mystery. You’re still chasing your own tail.”
“Nguyen was officially charged this morning.”
“He’s not the guy.  You’re overlooking the hospital staff. Anyone who worked there between 1999 and 2002 should’ve been investigated. Especially after you identified Li Wei Chapman. Look for a connection to those first victims and the hospital employees in the right time frame and you’ll find your killer.” 
“You killed Tafferty, didn’t you?”
“If I hadn’t the NSA or China would’ve.”
“Interesting that your definition of solving a mystery includes committing a murder of your own,” Lloyd said. 
Court rolled his eyes. “If I hadn’t, you would have, and then you’d be cooling your heels in prison. I did you a favor. The least you could say is thank you.” 
Lloyd curled his lips over his teeth. Fixing his eyes on a point over Court’s right ear, he spoke slowly, enunciating each syllable. “Thank you.”
“Mmhh. You’re welcome. Is that why you came here? To ask about Westin?”
“No. I’m here with a message. Don’t ever contact Princess again or it’ll be your corpse in an alley. You understand? Don’t drag her into your investigations or whatever little drama you kick up in the future. Stay very, very, far away from her. Forever. Are we clear?” 
Court nodded. “Yes.”
Lloyd stood up. He grabbed Princess’ bag and the file, shoved the folder into the bag and slung it over his shoulder. 
“Stay here if you must, but clean up before you go. Princess doesn’t need to know you were ever here. And she never finds out about the Claymore you rigged to her door. You know you could kill everyone in a thirty meter radius with that thing.”
“Unlikely. It only has half a pound of C4,” Court said.
Lloyd sighed. “Awesome. That’s just… wonderful. Make sure to lock up when you leave.”
Outside, snow flurries danced in the air as Lloyd headed to his car. Traffic was light and he made it back to Bishop & Howard in record time. He paced in his office, flipping through Princess’ notebook and comparing her notes to his own. There were plenty of clues, but the facts refused to align. At 2:57, a knock on the doorframe broke his focus. A courier handed him a velvet case. Lloyd opened it briefly, inspecting the necklace, and checked an item off his to-do list before filing the jewelry box away in his bottom desk drawer.
Court’s comment about the hospital staff lingered in his mind, refusing to let up. It felt like a long shot, but there were no other moves left on the board. Not with Shun Nguyen stuck in prison, refusing visits from investigators, and even from Peter Shaw. He wouldn’t give an account of his actions or offer up an alibi. It was like 2002 all over again. Lloyd set aside his pride and dialed Annabeth Greene’s number from memory.
“Dr. Greene’s office. Laura speaking.”
“Hello Laura. This is Lloyd Hansen. Can you pass along a message for me? I need a crosscheck for any link between Li Wei or Zoe Chapman and Forest View Hospital staff from 1998 to 2003. I’ve emailed Dr. Greene a list of names.”
“I’ll let her know.”
Hanging up, Lloyd swiveled his desk chair around to face the window. Snow was falling in steady sheets, though it was only the fourth of October. He watched the flurries dance in the air, and for the first time in weeks, his mind felt still. Answers were coming. They had to come because Lloyd was certain of one thing: Shun Nguyen had not kidnapped Laine Cruz. Whoever had done so was still out there, a free man.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 
Next - Chapter XXXI
Masterlist
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canonkiller · 5 months ago
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The Eberron maincamp has unfortunately prematurely ended, so (with DM clearance) I'm going to share the stuff I'd had as spoilers so it can be known, for funsies.
Here's some bonus links -
Delta, Bravo, Lima (character playlist)
Renegade (bgm playlist)
writing treat 1
writing treat 2
writing treat 3
early test for characterization
crew assessments + reasonings
house lyrandar medical record, classified
- and here's some of the information about Valka Rotaeir, captain and pilot of the airship Revelation, and two more images because the read more breaks if I try to move them.
Dossier of House Lyrandar:
NAME: Valka Rotaeir AGE: 71 yrs. (b. 927yk) HEIGHT: 7 ft. 3 in. WEIGHT: 244 lbs. SPECIES: Dragonborn (Green) TITLE(S): Cpt., Ms.
EMPLOYMENT RECORD: Civilian recruited by Cpt. Adelaide Mallory in 948yk. Served well as navigator and representative until the Treaty of Thronehold ended the war in 996yk. Returned to service in 997yk as navigator aboard the Revelation after its post-war refitting. Survived the unforeseen accident that occured during the Revelation's test flights over the Endworld Mountains along with four others who retired from active duty after the incident. Following a recovery period, she was promoted to Cpt. of the Revelation as Cpt. Mallory was rendered incapable of command during the incident, for exemplary action and demonstration of skill beyond her station and duty.
Rotaeir has shown distaste for the House and the war throughout her employment, but has not publicly denounced either and remains dedicated and hardworking. Her experience is vital to the House; losing her is not an option. Cede whatever is needed to maintain her connection to the House. If this fails, take necessary measures.
Valka was formerly the ship's navigator and diplomatic representative as a knowledge domain cleric. The Revelation was in active duty during the war, and Valka was a late addition to the crew, recruited by her then-future husband, Roshan. The two of them had a strong relationship despite the war, and while both wanted to retire, Roshan's dragonmark bound him to piloting duty and Valka refused to leave him.
During the late years of the war, they had a child together. Valka entrusted her egg to a caretaker in secret, fearing it would be damaged or killed if she kept it with her on the ship. The settlement it was in was later targeted; though the two of them searched for years (and Valka never truly stopped) they were never able to find the egg or its remains in the ruins.
After the war, with Roshan kept in duty by the House, a mechanical failure in the experimental drive of the Revelation led to a catastrophic crash that killed most of her crew. Valka survived at the cost of her husband's life; Roshan, her Rose, made the choice to sacrifice himself to save her, grafting his arm and eye - and his dragonmark - to save her life in the hopes that she would be able to help whoever was left until they were rescued.
Awarded prestige and merits for her survival, and resenting all of them for praising that she had survived what her family had not, Valka suffered - and continues to suffer - lingering pain and migraines from the crash. Her grafted arm is unresponsive and is kept immobile, and her grafted eye has light sensitivities that dragonborn nervous systems are not equipped to handle, granting her night vision but requiring a cover in ordinary light. The dragonmark haunts her more than anything else; as something meant to die with its bearer, what does it mean that it transferred to her? Was Roshan able to rest in peace, or does she drag his spirit with her?
The house took advantage of her fragile state after the crash and convinced her of Roshan's continued presence as being bound to the airship, a belief that she still holds, while publicly covering up the truth of the crash and Valka's inherited dragonmark. She was bound back into service by the mark, as it allows her to pilot the ship and its experimental, secretive systems. The Revelation is her family, her love, and her airship, and she will defend it with her life - to do anything else would be to abandon Roshan.
And, in Sharn, a now-grown dragonborn named Zykr looks strangely familiar... (Hi, Andy!)
With the House bearing down on her lack of respect for their authority, she has gone rogue; drawn under the influence of the Lord of Blades and allied with warforged forces, she only seeks a way out - to take the Revelation and leave this stupid, angry war behind, at any cost.
Depending on how things went, there was a chance she would end up at Wanderstrand - that's for a post later today, because I had to keep that one REALLY secret, but it's half of the 3rd writing treat link.
Trivia:
Valka's tarot card is the three of swords.
Her character playlist title is in international maritime signal flags: Keep clear of me; I am maneuvering with difficulty / I am taking in or discharging or carrying dangerous goods. / Stop immediately.
Rotaeir is a simple combination of the valkyrie names Róta (sleet and storm) and Eir (peace, clemency, help, mercy). Valka just sounded right.
Though not on her paperwork, she took a translated version of the Revelation's name (Saksatkara) as her own surname after the crash
Receiving the dragonmark replaced her existing clerical abilities; narratively, she lost faith in the gods and her own experience that granted her a knowledge domain, and instead only had faith in the destruction and grief that the storm domain had brought her.
Roshan's dragonmark spans her whole grafted arm; it glows faintly when oh board the ship, and brightness increases with how much energy she has focused into using it. At full effort, it is bright enough to glow through the brace / sling.
Mechanically, she can strike anyone who damages her with an immediate lightning strike.
While neither of her eyes retain their original color, she had golden eyes like Zykr. They also share a heart-shaped chest marking.
Valka's physical difference from Zykr was a worldbuilding adjustment; half dragonborn would have had more humanoid body shapes, while full dragonborn more closely resembled dragons. It never came up.
After being briefly dead, Zykr began having visions of being on a boat with a person he didn't recognize; he was seeing though Valka's eyes, unknowingly looking at his own father, Roshan. Surprise, Andy! There would have been more hints about it in Sharn if we'd gotten to explore some more.
Original reference document text:
Valka is an elderly dragonborn woman, weathered by the past years of war. She is snakelike in appearance, wiry and lithe at 7'3", with a longer neck, body, and limbs. She stands slouched, leaning heavily on a polearm that doubles as a makeshift cane; often heavily bundled against the cold, her right leg is braced under her clothes and her right arm and hand are entirely covered by a black brace buckled in faded brass, kept immobile against her chest by a sling. Her scales are mottled dark greens and yellows, graying around her eyes, muzzle, and knuckles, and she has many visible scars from old battles on all visible skin. The right side of her face is badly burned, and her eye on that side is entirely covered by a large patch. Her other eye is milky white; it's uncertain whether she can see our of her visible eye or if the patch isn't opaque.
Boot on braced leg has a special hook on the heel that she can clip to the harness strap on her thigh to keep is raised / out of the way if mobility is more important than stability. Safety harness extends down the upper part of her tail; anchors to this instead of her braced leg when necessary.
Though not visible, the eye under the patch is unnervingly human-like (as it originally belonged to Roshan), and if her arm brace were removed, the arm underneath is also distinctly not her own; she is unable to move the replacement limb at all, and the dragonmark on it does not move to anywhere else on her body though she can utilize its power.
As a child, Valka was often drawn to the idea of traveling. She restrained her desire to leave for many years, bound by ties to her family and home, until a chance meeting with Roshan, an airship pilot, during the war. In an impulse, whirlwind romance, she joined him in his travels and quickly became an indespensible member of the crew and Roshan's partner. They were married during the war, but hesitated to start a family, fearing the kind of world they would be raising a child in while Roshan's mark kept him in duty. Over time, they found comfort in a future seemingly without children, though they pledged to do what they could to adopt or foster if the war ended with enough time for them to do so.
Valka was one of many overjoyed to see a time of peace, and hoped to start a proper life with her husband even with their age. Unfortunately, a series of malfunctions in their shared airship led to a crash that left both them and their crew grievously injured in a remote mountain range. Valka, having lost her right arm and with severe trauma to her entire right side, was barely conscious; she awoke hours later to her arm replaced and her injuries magically repaired, and to Roshan dead, having chosen to sacrifice himself to keep her alive. Most importantly to the House, his dragonmark was still present - a glowing brand on the arm grafted improperly to replace Valka's own.
Abruptly alone, dealing with the trauma of the crash and her own guilt in her survival being at Roshan's expense, she was taken to trial and found not guilty. Feeling cheated by this verdict and losing faith in both justice and the afterlife (after all, if a dragonmark was bound to a person's soul, what did it mean that she could now take power from it? Had she damned her lover to a kind of half-life, or worse, an eternal purgatory?) she threw herself into religion with a self-destructive determination, secretly hoping the gods would recognize her believed wrongdoing and judge her properly where mortal courts had failed.
When presented with an opportunity to sabotage the project that led to Roshan's death, she took it, taking control of the airship and going rogue with the intent to destroy it either by her own hand or by forcing any pursuers to take it down with her. At present, she is driving it as far from settlements as possible to achieve this goal with as little loss of life as possible, and does not know what she will do with herself when this act is complete.
For characterization purposes, her actions will be influenced by:
- Like The Back of Her Hand: even when the Revelation is being piloted by someone else, her long familiarity with it means she is incredibly difficult to catch off guard. In its current state, she would notice anything out of place on board; this will decrease as the ship is modified.
- Blindsided: her left eye, uncovered, is blind, while her right eye, covered by a patch, still functions. The patch dims light, but still allows her to see.
- Local Doctors Hate Her!: her right arm is entirely immobile on its own, but the brace can be locked into different positions (ex, she can lean on her elbow, but wouldn't be able to pick something up.). Her right leg is stiff, and she is able to strap it up so she's less likely to trip. She is used to moving around the Revelation on one or both legs, but prefers both on unfamiliar terrain.
- House, Not Home: Valka has little care for the interests of the dragonmarked Houses, and may be more likely to take actions that damage the resources or reputation of a House.
- A Ship That Loves You: Valka believes her husband's spirit is entwined with the ship's elemental, a belief that the House has intentionally used as leverage against her. If she cannot have the ship on her own terms, her alternative goal will be to destroy it and herself - but will put her life on the line to prevent others from damaging it.
- An Empty Nest: Valka has no contact with her extended family and has no reason to believe she has any living immediate relatives. She has formed few relationships since the Revelation's crash.
- The Soils of War: Valka does not want to fight, though she will if she must. Her anger is directed at herself, at the gods that failed her, and the Houses that force her into their service. She wants to escape it, to lick her wounds, and to rest; to discover what the world is becoming in a time of peace that she has not had the chance to know.
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gemsofgreece · 16 days ago
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what is the involvement and faults of germany towards greece's economic crisis ? I've seen many people bringing the fact that germany has a large part to play in the state of the actual greek economy bc they never paid reparation to greece after lootings and killing greeks
Germany has primarily moral and to some degree financial responsibility. People believing however that Greece’s debt would not exist or it would be in a significantly better state if Germany had paid the reparations are delusional.
The moral issue however still stands. Germany never paid for the extreme devastation it caused to Greece, from which the country’s recovery has been very lengthy and poorly managed, although it did pay other countries.
The Axis Occupation in Greece caused:
The death of an estimated 7 - 11 % of the Greek population, due to the Great Famine, conflicts and executions
The death of the 87% of the Greek Jewish population
The burning of one fourth of the villages in the country
More than 100,000 buildings utterly destroyed
The devastation of 80% of the industry, 28% of the infrastructure (ports, roads and railways), 90% of the country’s bridges
The burning of 25% of the country’s forests and other natural resources
The compulsory loan of 1942 to Nazi Germany, that's right, Greece was forced to lend money to Germany (!), the great majority of which was never repaid!
Deportation and immigration of 700,000 Greeks
the looting of antiquities
Indirectly led to the Greek civil war afterwards
* It should be noted that Greece was not occupied by Germany only but it was a simultaneous occupation by Germany, Italy and Bulgaria.
So, the finger wavering and the unprecedented worldwide slander and defamation Greeks were subjected to during the financial crisis were a bit much because they were coming from the German government and media first and foremost.
Turning a blind eye to its own shortcomings, Germany took it upon itself to “save” Greek economy by enforcing extreme austerity measures to the Greek public, which made the famous Greek lifestyle and the very high standard of living plummet to an unrecognisable sad day-to-day survival for the working and the low financial class. Young Greeks born into the crisis or a little prior have never experienced the old life quality, which the rest of us even slightly older reminiνsce constantly. The then German Minister of Finance, Wolfgang Schäuble, the main instigator of the austerity measures, hardly hid his obvious distaste for the Greeks.
Now, to those who know the basics of contemporary economic studies, it is known that when a country is in an extreme financial recession, austerity measures is the LAST strategy you should follow because it OBLITERATES the productive capacity of the country and therefore the country DOES NOT PRODUCE ANYTHING in order to create value, then sell it and get any money to eventually pay its debts!!!!
As a result, with Germany’s archaic financial strategy it is suspected that Greece’s recovery from the crisis has been hindered and delayed way more that it would have been otherwise.
PS. Wolfgang Schäuble has now passed away. His open distaste for the Greeks and their corruption encouraged the media to drag Greece through the mud. The irony is that it has been since revealed that Schäuble was involved in cases of corruption in Germany himself.
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anonyunknownonearth · 1 month ago
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Steph: No way!
Tim: Way
Dick: But that just isn’t whelmed!
Tim: ikr, but somehow he pulled it off
Batkids: *gasps*
Damian: Tt, I call cap. That distasteful man containing zero rizz and a filled to the brim with brainrot physically could not have.
Jason: Yeah he just doesn’t have the aura to pull it off, full offence to him.
Batkids: *Sounds of Group Agreement*
Bruce: .. what are they talking about, Alfred?
Alfred: They seem to be discussing [Local Celebrity]’s recent exploits, and disagree on his ability to recover from this particular disaster, Sir.
Bruce: ...
Alfred: I, for one, am in total agreement of their group consensus regarding this situation.
Bruce:
Alfred: Please refrain from giving me that look, Master Bruce. I did happen to spend a great deal of time online just to man your comms, and it becomes awfully wearying on slow nights.
Bruce: But that was,, ages ago? Are you implying-
Alfred: Hush, now Master Bruce. Your dreadful concussion is still healing and it would be inadvisable to think too hard, so as to encourage a full recovery.
[The concussion was, in fact, not as dreadful as Alfred was seemingly implying it to be, but that didn’t seem to matter]
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forget-meabh-not · 2 months ago
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we have had this in our drafts for a while and finally decided to rewrite this a bit and post it.
note: we are not anti recovery , and this is just a personal post about our feelings on things we have seen and been told by others. Feel free to tell us how we are wrong if you would like , our opinion will not change on this matter.
We do not want to recover. We do not like recovery for us. We do not like the way it’s pushed.
While our life and habits may seem destructive , damaging and bad , we don’t see it that way. We like how we live now matter how “toxic” it may seem to others.
We do not mind how we burrow under our beds covers , allowing dirty laundry and trash( bottles , cans , chip bags etc ) pile up in nooks and corners of our room.
We do not mind how we do not go outside , we do not keep our blind open , we do not talk to others IRL.
We choose that sort of life , we enjoy that sort of life.
We dislike going to therapy ( we do not want it ) , we dislike taking our medicine that’s supposed to “help us recover” ( we do not want it )
We do not , and never will want to recover or get better. We do not mind being mentally ill , we do not mind the psychotic episodes , the constant apathy and numbness , the grandiose ideas.
The truth of the matter is we are mentally ill , we have personality disorders , we have a innate distaste and fear of humans and society , we have little to no empathy , and that we consistently hurt those around us intentionally and unintentionally( which we have started trying to stop that destructive behavior )
And we accept that , we fucking accept that and we are fine , actually we are better than fine with it.
we only really care on getting better in the parts of our life we want to get better in. Which are not the parts of our lives others want us to get better in.
stop pushing recovery on others , stop looking at people who do not want to or HELL do not need to recover and tell them that it’s anti-recovery and bad to think/feel that way .
the push for perceived recovery , the push for everyone to recover , the push that everyone should recover is just a new wave a sanism that is more palatable to others.
if someone wants to recover / perceives that they need to work on and recover in some parts of their life is THEIR DECISION and you should not try and push recovery on everyone.
everyone has their own journey+ path and for some recovery may not be apart of it.
We don’t need to recover. We are happy the way we are regardless of how “unhealthy” we may be. We do not owe anyone anything.
-Violet , Diya , and Link
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eddywoww · 2 years ago
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Eddie Munson is the defacto leader of a coed theater fraternity at his Uni. They’re a close knit bunch who have each others back at all times, even if the rest of their school might see them as a joke.
The only problem is that their meetings are historically usurped by the Alpha Phi frat house who happen to be placed right next to the classroom that they are forced to squeeze their meetings into. Do they get a frat house? No, of course not. It doesn’t help that Eddie has actual beef with the frats vice president, some floppy haired idiot he refuses to learn the name of (Steve Harrington) because he’s stolen Eddie’s parking space like five times since the semester began and he keeps stopping by their class, seemingly looking for Eddie (who definitely doesn’t dip out to hide every time, he’s not about to fight some sports scholarship kid)
It doesn’t help that the animosity between the two groups isn’t new. It doesn’t help that they’ve been fucking with each other years before Eddie even arrived at the Uni. It’s kind of a time honored tradition to try and get under each others skin.
So when Benny the Octopus goes missing one day, naturally, Eddie freaks the fuck out. That’s their octopus made of welded together scrap metal, thank you very much and he’s been in the theater for over a decade. They protect Benny, they love Benny. How did the frat even get their hands on him? And if you, like Robin, are bothering to ask “Why would you assume it was them, Eddie?” Then you can actually just shut the fuck up because it was definitely 100% them.
This entire ordeal leads to Eddie taking one for the team, obviously. Which further leads to Eddie sacrificing himself in the name of Benny to climb the short distance up the back of Alpha Sigmas stupid little frat house and into their second floor bathroom because it’s the only point of entry that Eddie can truly find that won’t get him automatically tackled to the ground. Could he go to a higher up and solve this problem without breaking and entering? Maybe. But that’s boring.
So he goes on his espionage recovery mission, realizing too late that maybe he isn’t the sneakiest person imaginable as he grapples with vines and barely manages to get solid footing on the ledged roof below him. And then he’s in the bathroom, pulling himself through the window and- right. It doesn’t matter that it’s 2 am. This is a frat house, Eddie. These are frat guys, why would they be asleep?
It’s with a big whopping holy fuck oh no what have I done, that Eddie falls through the window and onto the floor of a steamy, recently used bathroom. Because someone had been showering. Because said someone is standing there with a towel held firmly over his crotch, a deer in headlights expression marking his face as brunette hair drips onto his chest.
And Eddie has no clue what to do because being faced with a naked, let alone wet Steve Harrington is doing things to his brain (and his dick) that he can’t really handle.
And then Steve opens his mouth to blurt out “Whyareyouinmybathroom pleasedonthurtme!” And okay, that’s maybe a little dramatic. Which Eddie tells him, before realizing that he is in fact wearing a ski mask. So like, fair. But then it clicks on Steve’s face and he relaxes fast into a bitchy frown. “You’re that fucking theater kid, aren’t you?”
Which, okay. Eddie wasn’t aware Steve even knew him.
He makes his way off the floor and “I’d offer to shake your hand but uh-“ Steve turns bright red and winds the towel around his waist as quickly as possible. Right. Down to business. “I want Benny back.” Which, as it turns out, Steve feigns like he has no clue who Benny even is. Rude. “Big, metal, kind of looks like shit.”
Steve could not get any redder as Eddie tries to explain himself in a roundabout way, not at all going into a tangent about his distaste for the frat while Steve drips onto the floor. And then-
“I have no clue what you’re talking about and it sounds like you have weird one sided beef because I have never intentionally done anything to upset you.”
And that’s just- that is not true. That’s not true. At all.
“You steal my parking space!”
“They’re not assigned!”
“It’s a respect thing and you keep coming to my meetings, looking for me by name! Which is weird by the way!”
“I wanted your number!”
As soon as Steve blurts it out, he clams right up and Eddie just- he just- “You wanted my number?” Because that’s inconceivable. That doesn’t make sense. “Why didn’t you just ask for it?”
“Because you hide every time I try to find you!” Steve blurted out again, eyes squeezed shut like he was genuinely embarrassed and right. He was naked and maybe had a crush on Eddie? Which was- yeah, Eddie wanted to touch him now. But he wanted to be cautious too. So he made his way closer slowly, trying to give Steve an out. He really was so pretty close up, a fact that Eddie had been trying desperately to deny for so long now.
Eddie reached up and pulled his stupid mask off, staring at Steve as his eyes opened back up, tentative and stressed.
“You could ask me for it now,” Eddie said with a small grin, lips upturned as Steve chewed on his bottom lip. “I might say yes.”
Steve rolled his eyes, reaching up to smack Eddie across the back of his head. Eddie caught his hand and pulled him into an unmasked kiss.
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evilscuderia · 1 year ago
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I think it's not enough to point out how inappropriate and ill-judged Will Buxton and Martin Brundle's recent tweets (re: Qatar GP) are. I think it's important to recognize how dangerous and counterproductive that mindset really is.
'Motorsport is dangerous' - they write it on F1 tickets, and we all know it well. I'm not the right person to philosophize about the reasons why we are still drawn to it, but this much I do know: danger is not what makes F1 interesting. It wasn't back when the fatalities were in the double digits and it isn't now that the sport has finally taken (some) steps forward with regards to safety.
So the notion that extreme conditions and added danger are what make motorsport 'special' and 'heroic' is not only untrue, but it also becomes especially egregious when the drivers have expressed their discontent and F1 and FIA themselves have come out and said that a review of racing conditions in Qatar is due as well as necessary.
I do not want to see drivers race in torrential rain, with no visibility, with recovery vehicles on track, in extreme heat, etc. I do not want to see drivers being unable to get out of the car on their own legs because of exhaustion/dehydration either. And I especially do not want to see any of that because some people think it might be more entertaining (it isn't).
'Racers gonna race,' it's true. Which is precisely why there should always be mechanisms in place to ensure their safety. To romanticize a past in which drivers were routinely failed by those systems is beyond the pale. And it's especially distasteful of Martin Brundle (who was racing in Imola in 1994, may I add) to use the names of Niki Lauda (who was one of the biggest advocates for safety in the sport and who very nearly died on track) and Ayrton Senna (who did die on track and was extremely concerned about safety in the months leading up to his death) to do so.
It's gross, it's irresponsible and it's ultimately why drivers feel pressured to race even if they feel unsafe and/or unfit. It's not inspiring or heroic. It's dangerous, plain and simple.
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merakiui · 11 months ago
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About tweels in タコの花嫁 again... i thought it was SUPER juicy to see jades quiet distaste (compared to floyds loud hatred) for reader in the og. Like omggg they both hate me and they're sexy about it... AND I LOVE TO THINK ABT HOW THAT'D TRANSLATE IN A EEL X READER SCENARIO!!!! Oughhhh it's delicious!!! Jade hating you quietly for what your brothers done, now he's betrothed to some brat and he has to behave for the good of the kingdom so he can't hurt you or act out about it... AHHH he acts so friendly and polite but he's really thinking about disemboweling you!!!! Until he has that moment where he thinks about it, and he realizes, (it doesnt even come as a shock!) that he really doesn't mind a future with you anymore.
AAUGGHHHHG!!!! And Floyd still hating you, because while you got to sit in your pretty little castle pitying Jade and feeling bad for yourself because of your sudden engagement, Floyd was there with Jade every step of his recovery... and he HATES you and your family for what you put Jade through!!! For the scare of possibly losing his brother!!! But maybe that'd change.. you know, when he sees how happy you two end up... and how cute your fry together are :)
Or possibly before that!!! I mean, teen floyd going through puberty and his twins got a perfectly cute (but in floyds opinion, bratty) soon to be wife... I can absolutely see him developing a little crush during puberty and fantasizing about her into adulthood. Like a little boy pulling on a little girl's pigtails, except he actually has a valid reason to hate her.
and imagining reader slowky accepting it and reading mer/human love stories (like Ariel!) after the engagement like..... OTL OTL OTL investigating and researching mer marriages and mating culture by reading romances.......
I think I'm just a tweelmancer at heart. I loved the concept and the presentation of the tweels in タコの花嫁 and its made me think a lot about those crazy deranged fishes.
AAAAAA YES YES!!!!!! >w< omg this is so scrumptious!!!! Floyd being so open about his hatred for you compared to Jade's very quiet, very secret hatred is so fun. Floyd would have such a vicious opinion of you, but perhaps it changes or shifts slightly when he's going through puberty like you noted. Something like,,, it was always gross to see you and Jade holding hands or being cheesy and lovey-dovey with each other as you both try to get accustomed to being each other's betrothed. But now Floyd's actually a little jealous of Jade because Jade gets to have you all to himself,,, Floyd who only ever looked at you hatefully, so one day it sort of,,,,, hits him over the head. Since when were you so pretty? Since when was your smile so cute? T_T
aaaaaa orz and reader learning to accept it, soon strengthening the bond with Jade while Floyd's growing up with this strange amalgamation of hate-love for you. >:D maybe if Floyd's nice to you, Jade can consider sharing if he wants some fry of his own hehe.
🤝 you and me both, anon!!!! Tweelmancer so real and true. I adore those silly eels too much!!! ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) they deserve to have a cute darling for themselves!!!!
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melanieph321 · 9 months ago
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Ruben Dias x Reader - Fix You Part 4/10
+18
Part 5 and 6 are out on my Patreon!
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Summary - Reader is hired as Ruben's assistant nurse after receiving head trauma during a football game. He has fallen into a deep depression on his road to recovery and does not accept much help from Reader as she only reminds him of how incapable he is.
Enjoy!
He should have never given you a day off, Ruben thought. You had been gone for hours, without telling anyone where you went. Ruben woke up that morning to an empty apartment. Okay, Max was there but he was an early riser and always went out for a morning run. You, on the other hand, wasn't an early riser. You'd wake up around the same time Ruben did. He would listen to your footsteps puttering around the kitchen while he lay in bed. By the time you knocked on his door to give him his shot, Ruben had been awake for hours, thinking about you and how he would do anything to feel your hands against his face again.
"Do you think she's gone missing?" Ruben asked Max.
"I thought she said that she had an audition this afternoon?"
"A what?"
"An audition. She's an actress, you know? A really good one too."
"Y/N, an actress?" Ruben found it very laughable. Actors and actresses possessed the skill of lying to the world. That night, looking into your eyes as you held his face, Ruben saw nothing but the truth in them. The truth that you were indeed the most breathtaking woman he had ever seen.
"Yeah, apparently she's studied at one of the best acting schools in London."
"Oh, yeah? Then how come I haven't seen her in any movies?"
It was a slow day in the park. However, Max refused to bring out the tennis balls. Despite the surgery, it was obvious that Ruben's conditions had yet improved. He feared that it was getting worse. And with that thought his creeping depression would return to him with the thoughts of never playing football again. That, and the fact that going blind forever meant never seeing your eyes again.
"I dunno, she said something about the movie industry being misogynistic and unfair to women." Max explained.
Ruben snorted. "Sounds like excuses to me."
He was an asshole at heart. Ruben knew that. But you didn't, or at least pretended not to notice. It's the reason why he hired you. You had an attitude like no other, an attitude that was reflected in your snapping tongue. Whatever Ruben put you through, no matter the insult, you always looked at him the same. Not with pity like his mother. You looked at Ruben as if you could see right through him. See through the pain in his heart and the many many failed attempts to better himself. You gave him the illusion that he might be good enough for you. However, the whole world knew that he wasn't. Not with his broken mind.
The sun had gone down by the time you got back to the apartment. Ruben and Max returned from the park hours ago. You had missed dinner and Ruben didn't like that. Did you have dinner somewhere else? With someone else? If that was the case, the two of you really needed to talk.
"Ruben?"
It was right on cue that you knocked on his door. You had made it a habit to check on him before you retreated to your own room. Ruben would never admit it, but this was the favorite part of his day.
"Come in." He said, sitting up in bed. He perked up even more seeing you appear in the doorway, your face painted with makeup, wearing a tight black dress that hugged your shape in ways that struck his sinful imagination. No bandages covered his eyes during these hours and luckily you wore a coat over your naked shoulders, preventing Ruben from completely losing his mind at the sight of you.
"Hey, I just wanted to check on you." You said.
"Well, like all the other nights you've checked on me, I'm still alive."
His cheesy comment made your smile fade. Good job Ruben, he thought. Even in the dark he could see your distaste for him.
"I mean, do you need anything before I go to bed?" 
"No."
"Oh, okay."
You lingered in the door frame, perhaps feeling forced to make small talk. "Max told me that you guys went to the park today, did you have a nice time?"
"Yes."
"Good."
An awkward silence followed. If you would only step a little closer to the bed so that he could see you clearly. Ruben's vision got a bit blurry where you stood, since his eyes still needed time to adjust, even to the dark.
"Did Max let you exercise again?" You asked.
Ruben snorted. "No." 
"I'm sorry about that."
Perhaps you felt guilty ever since his little fumble in the park, where Ruben's heart topped the average rate. Max refused anymore advanced brain exercises after that. The reason for Ruben's newfound restlessness. Nevertheless, he didn't blame it on you.
"It's not your fault." Ruben said, looking at his hands. "We'll start again in time."
You nodded. "You will get better in time, Ruben, your doctor said so himself."
You had started taking him to his weekly appointments. Although you were much better company than Ruben's mother, he didn't like the look of pity that you gave him as the doctors would pin all those needles in him to run their many many tests. You would never see him for the man he really was, a football player.
"Where were you?" Ruben asked, pleased to change the subject.
"Erm...out." 
"Out with who?"
Your arms folded. "Why do you assume I was out with someone?"
"You were out alone?"
"Yes, yes I was. Believe it or not."
"Why were you dressed like that?"
You looked down on your dress. The light from the hallway reflected off of the little specks of glitter, putting dots on Ruben's walls, making it look like little stars roamed above their heads.
"What's wrong with the way I dress?" You frowned.
"Nothing." He shrugged. "It just looks like you were going on a date or something."
"And if I were?"
"What?"
Ruben's reaction made you smile. "Yeah, if I did in fact go on a date, what's it to?"
"I don't....." 
He choked on his words and you laughed.
"Relax Ruben. I'm only dressed like this because the audition I went to required it."
Of course, he thought. Max told him about your acting pursuit, although he still doubted that you were a good one. However, Ruben was curious. "How did it go?"
"Shit." You sighed and to his surprise stepped into the room. "The directors wanted me to run lines in a scouse accent. Like, who even knows how to do that?"
Ruben laughed. He thought about the many times he had been scolded by the Liverpool fans. He never managed to understand a word of what they were saying to him. He doubted anyone knew what they were saying, not even themselves.
"All I'm saying is thank God for this job, otherwise I'd probably be on the street begging for leftovers."
"I'm sure you'll get your breakthrough." He said and really meant it. If it wasn't in your heart to work for him it could turn ugly very quickly.
"I dunno?" You sighed and to Ruben's surprise, felt comfortable enough to take a seat on his bed.
His legs stirred under the covers to distract him from the blood rushing to parts of his body that he really didn't want to come alive right now. Luckily, the room was dark and you sat on the foot of his bed. Nevertheless, your silhouette was enough to send him off. You were beautiful beyond the light, and if he was ever given the pleasure to touch you one day, he'd forsure make it memorable.
"Ruben?"
Fuck, he thought. You must have caught him staring.
"Yes?" He replied, cupping his groin under the covers.
"I want you to be honest with me."
Fuck.
"Before I go to bed...."
Yeah, he's done.
"Of course." He said, clearing his throat.
"Do you need my help getting to the toilet?"
"Pardon?"
You avoided his eyes out of cheer embarrassment. "You know...." You said. "To help you pee?"
If only God did drive-by's. "No, Y/N." He sighed. "I'm good to go on my own if I have to."
"You sure?"
"Of course I'm sure. It's my body, isn't it?"
"I'm just saying. Last time..."
"Last time was a first."
"Right." There was a hint of a smile on your face. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."
Ruben's heart sank, seeing you leave his bedside. "Y/N?" He exclaimed, stopping you at the door. 
You turned around, eyebrows raised. 
"Erm...you look beautiful."
Your face lit up. "Thank you."
"Yeah, um....goodnight, I guess." Ruben was quite desperate for you to leave.
"Goodnight Ruben."
He fell onto his back once the door shut. And an odd surprise awaited him as he slid a hand down his sweatpants. Ruben had been told that parts of his body could remain permanently affected by his injuries. Like the next man he wondered if that meant his abilities to perform in other places than just the football pitch, and unfortunately the answer was, yes. Like the next man Ruben had tried watching porn in all kinds of outrageous themes. However, nothing had done it for him. But now here he lay, with a full fledged erection and one person on his mind. 
As he began stroking himself, Ruben thought of stripping you of that dress of yours, touching you in ways that would pleasure you to a point of rapture. Oh how he would love to rip you apart, to hear you moan his name.
"Fuck."
As much as he wanted to make the moment last, Ruben was too horny to maintain a steady pace. He stroked his dick like his life depended on it. As if his mother could burst into his room at any minute.
"Shit...." 
Ruben ground, succumbing to his own temptations. He felt pathetic afterwards. Like an animal unable to control his urges. Nevertheless, he made a promise that the next time he came, it would be inside of you.
Part 5 and 6 are out on my Patreon!
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honeyhotteoks · 16 days ago
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oh chai, we'd love to hear your thoughts on unpacking trauma and sexual exploring through fiction!
i feel like it's such a deep topic to explore and talk about!
✨anon
okay i’m putting on my social sciences/literature hat on for this one, but it’s also about to get a little personal in here, so i’m throwing my reply under the cut :)
cw for discussions around trauma, grief, SA, violence, child SA, taboo kinks etc.
this is most certainly going to get a little rambly, but i have a lot of thoughts about this and personal experiences to bring to the table. i’ve been thinking about this a lot lately because i was recently watching a conversation in a discord server dig into more niche kinks in a way that was using so much problematic and shameful language i was really disappointed. this is also a huge reason why i am a big proponent of tagging fics accurately, and spills over into all the big thoughts i have about the romance genre and dark romance in particular.
i’ll start from a personal perspective so everyone understands my reference points. without getting into too much detail, i have a lot of childhood trauma around emotional and physical abuse / neglect that i’ve been unpacking in therapy for a long time, but writing has also been a place for me to work through many of those issues. i’ve also personally experienced sexual harassment and attempted assault, and as many of you probably already know, i experienced the sudden loss of my father several years ago. writing has always been, and will probably always be, the place where i work through those complex thoughts. in aurora the reader’s mother suddenly passed away and was dealing with an alcoholic father, and i was writing that at the same time i was dealing with the sudden traumatic loss of my father and my mother’s battle with alcoholism. it was beyond cathartic for me to write through that experience, especially in a way where my alternative “self” in reader was being cared for, listened to, validated, and held through that grief. while it wasn’t intentional at the time, i didn’t set out to write that to make myself feel better, when i read it now i realize how much i was trying to process at that time and how helpful it was. the same can be said for TNT, the attempted claim scene in retrospect really was my attempt at processing something very personal and almost ‘re-writing’ it with yunho and mingi as protective heroes, something i did not have at the time.
that is all to say, romance as a genre has used particular tropes, kinks, or taboos forever and i think it is a really reductive reading of that genre to assume women are just writing and reading things because they think it’s ‘hot’ or ‘sexy’ or whatever. i’ve been reading hurt/comfort and SA recovery fics and novels in the romance space forever, it’s honestly a personal favorite of mine. while i know some people hate that trope, i would argue that through fiction people who have suffered a trauma might be able to safely expose themselves to those ideas / triggers and find comfort in storylines that don’t turn out as painful and awful as the real world. in the real world victims of SA for example often do not get justice, they may have many re-traumatizing experiences, and they may struggle to get the help that they need or to find a partner who is understanding and supportive. fiction is an opportunity to explore the alternative. what if the worst thing in the world could happen to you (or did happen to you) but instead of the system failing you etc., what if someone had been there to emotionally and physically support you in the ways you wanted and needed?
that is one way of exploring those concepts, but another is through kink. i’m specifically thinking about CNC for this example, and i know that some people find that kink not only triggering but distasteful, but there are many people who have experienced a traumatic incident where they were out of control that a properly organized cnc scene can help them feel fully in control, because they are. for some, cnc is a kink that makes no sense and seems no different than a ‘rape fetish’, but for many it is a way to safely process trauma or fears while always having the control to say when too much is too much.
as a note, i’d extend this further to other concepts, kinks, or taboos as well. i’m not saying everyone should be comfortable reading or engaging with kinks like ddlg, age play, incest kinks, etc. etc., but this can be a safe way to unpack trauma for some. specifically for something like ddlg, the safety of a dominant caring for their partner as they play in a child-like headspace can be incredibly healing for some. it’s not something i personally understand or have experience with, but i have spoken to those in kink spaces who feel this very intrinsically and are in deeply healthy relationships with this as a dynamic. from a writing perspective, these kinks can be explored safely within the bounds of fiction and comfort characters in ways that can be very healing and very safe.
now, this isn’t to say everyone writing dark concepts has had a trauma that they are working through, but it certainly is my personal experience and in talking with a lot of different writers and readers, this is a common thread. the safety of fiction, particularly in the romance genre, allows spaces for people, particularly women, to rework and process concepts of trauma, safety, and security. i particularly emphasize the concept of a ‘safe man’ here. i don’t know a woman alive who hasn’t had a traumatic or distasteful experience with a man, misogyny is rampant…. but many of us still love men, want relationships with men, and want to feel safe and validated by men. there are lots of good guys out there to be sure, but fiction is a great way of exploring something traumatic or scary with the knowledge that the character will be saved/safe/cared for/healed by a man, something many women might want in a partner.
one disclaimer i do have though on the dark romance genre as a whole - while i understand that a bully romance or very serious enemies to lovers romance (i.e. a villain who is actually abusing the FMC) can also function in the same ways, to unpack trauma, i do read this genre with a lot of caution and i think we need to be careful in the ways that we talk about these romances. again, this is not to shame anyone’s preferences whatsoever, but i do think we need to be careful about how we discuss certain dark romance concepts. i personally will not read and will never write work that features a relationship where the male romantic lead starts off as a physical or emotional abuser, for me this is too triggering and offers too many gray areas for young readers to misinterpret healthy relationships vs. kink exploration and fantasy. It’s totally fine if this is how you as a reader explore and unpack trauma, or even just what you find hot outside of that, but I personally think we need to be careful hyping these books up etc. HOWEVER - dead dove content has existed for a very long time, and everything i’ve said about unpacking and reworking trauma through fiction applies here, it’s purely a personal preference that i limit this content for myself.
lastly, on the note of sexuality and sexual exploration - fanfiction has been a space for people to safely explore this too. to be more than exceptionally clear, sexuality is not a “kink”, has nothing to do with “taboos” or trauma or anything i’ve spoken about thus far. but in the same way that fiction, particularly fanfiction, is a place to explore the interior, this applies to sexuality. In fiction, you can explore same sex relationships, het relationships, cis, trans, and nonbinary experiences alike, to say nothing of polyamory. Outside of just sexual acts and bodies, it’s a place to explore romantic attachments of all different kinds. As a bisexual woman who grew up in a very conservative, very christian household, fanfiction was a place for me to explore the idea of f/f relationships, m/m relationships, and all kinds of combinations in between. In fiction, these relationships can be explored without the threat of ostracism or physical violence, something many people in the lgbtqia+ community know too well. whether reading or writing, it’s a way to explore those internal thoughts, impulses, and interests safely and often in stories that have a happy ending to look forward to.
hopefully that makes sense if you’re still here - and feel free to ask any questions you may have! :)
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