#dr homeworld

[creepa-b0t-inc]

Introducing: Grandma Chairiel, the best Deltarune character ever

She's Slavic

[hattyhatterson]

a few late-night creeparune doods

[creepa-b0t-inc]

I hope it's not weird to immediately commission art for characters I've made in one night

The Neighbor and Bellamy, deltarune oc commissions for @creepa-b0t-inc !

[ashenwolfe1]

Guys, I don't think he's from Amphoreus.

[gallifreyanhotfive]

"Leave those Homeworld blues behind!"

Okay I know they're not talking about that Homeworld BUT-

[obscuremilfoff]

[creepa-b0t-inc]

guns are too quick, can't savor all the little emotions...

the neighbor is owned by @creepa-b0t-inc

[aq2003]

this is such a cleverly written line

[creepa-b0t-inc]

the Golden Years

[nilboxes]

The Philosophy of Dr Ratio (Existentialism) and Aventurine (Absurdism)

Philosophy is a highly broad and complicated topic, these are just my interpretations, and I tried my best to make it as clear and concise as possible and to string them back into how it relates to the characters/events of the games.

Dr Ratio, Nihilism, Abandonment by God, Burden of Freedom (Heidegger, Sartre) 

I imagine Ratio’s homeworld prizes knowledge/learning a lot, and naturally because of his intelligence, he was expected to join the ranks of the genius society. Except despite all his achievements even as a young man, Ratio has not earned the gaze. 

When he was not acknowledged even at the height of his supposed success in his erudition and instead was handed a letter from the IPC, it is safe to say Ratio then felt “abandoned” by his purpose (in and relating to Nous) and despite seeking them and their favor. This feeling of abandonment (Heidegger, Existential Abandonment) goes hand in hand with the sudden and unwanted freedom from purpose (Sartre).

Suddenly without purpose, one is shoved into a state of pure freedom. This state of super freedom could be very daunting as the individual who is burdened by this freedom *must* carve a path of their own, or face meaninglessness (Sartre). And as a person who is condemned to this freedom, they must choose for themselves, be responsible for themselves and even the act of not choosing is a choice.

“God is dead” for Ratio, whose purpose (the path of Erudition) has refused him. Not dead in a literal sense, but the relevance of the god and the path that god treads is no longer relevant to Ratio. 

Those old beliefs of scholarly pursuits above all ultimately no longer hold significance to Ratio. He is thus bereft of a predetermined, outlined purpose (Nous’ brand of scholarship) and has to define for himself now what his purpose/existence/meaning must be (again, burden of freedom as outlined by Sartre).

During this, he also realizes how this path does not serve others either and that the Genius’ Societies pursuits are inherently self-serving rather than providing betterment for humanity. Thus again “God is dead”— the established “morality” is not relevant to the reality of the world at present, the “God” is not serving the needs of the world at large (Nietzche).

This is undoubtedly a difficult process. To spend one’s life devoted to a particular framework of belief and to be snubbed by it. So then what happens next, and where does one go from here?

Dr Ratio, the Ubermench and the Will to Power (Nietzche) but Tempered by Universality (Kant)

To be without “God” (ie, higher purpose, predetermined meaning) is to be left with an inexplicably wide freedom that is more terrifying than comforting (Sarte). Without the anchor of acknowledgement and assurance that one’s path is “correct” one now must define for themselves what is the optimal path, and what they define on their own as the greatest good (one’s own morality as defined by Nietzche).

Finding enlightenment (realizing/acknowledging his own potential outside of the gaze of god and adopting the mindset of the ubermench), Ratio doubles down on his humanitarian beliefs that knowledge must serve the betterment of individuals (Kant). To be equipped to think for themselves and be responsible for themselves as they go through life’s challenges and seizes control of their own destinies rather than go along with them (as he did himself). Ultimately, they strive and become the best version of themselves (to become the ubermench).

Dr Ratio asserts “the will to power” (Nietzche) exists in every individual, recognizing potential and capability residing in every person. Hence he is an educator, he believes he can help people reach this potential. One does not need to be a “genius” in order to excel and in order to create good and meaning in the world. One simply has to be equipped with the knowledge and have that will to apply that knowledge and themselves (ie, not being ‘stupid’) for their betterment and then the betterment of all.

Dr Ratio and Universality, Humanity as an End (Kant) 

Dr Ratio believes first and foremost in helping others help themselves more than uncovering knowledge for its sake alone, therefore he believes that the knowledge uncovered must serve a purpose for good rather than be uncovered simply because, thereby adhering to the concept of Humanity as an “End” or rather the goal, rather than knowledge being the end/goal. This key difference is what sets him apart from the geniuses in the Genius Society, who mostly view knowledge as the end all and be all of their pursuits, Ratio asks what and who it can be for.

This idea is what tempers all of Ratio’s beliefs. Undoubtedly the concept of an ubermench may veer towards seeing one’s self as the shepherd of the weak, being domineering and assertive, Ratio instead asserts that one should strive to better themselves than wait around to be saved or to be ruled by their betters—the geniuses, or others. He genuinely believes in the individual’s capability to think for themselves, to contribute good into the world and thus guide themselves into each individual’s ideal/their potential.

Aventurine and Absurdism (Camus)

Aventurine struggles for meaning in his life, marked by seemingly random and senseless wins because of his “luck” he surely struggles with finding any sort of rationale for his own continued survival—but there is none to be had. This is the core of the absurdism in Aventurine, the senselessness and the indifference of the universe to his feelings and his desires, to use his luck for the benefit of his loved ones, as opposed to the reality of it as his luck merely served himself, sometimes dubiously, to propel him to heights of success that has no meaning because those he strove for this purpose is gone. This is the core of the idea of the absurd, the purposelessness of his circumstances.

To further demonstrate the absurd Philosopher Albert Camus presents to “The Myth of Sisyphus” a man who is condemned by the gods to push a boulder up a hill, and when he almost reaches the top, the boulder returns to the bottom and Sisyphus must roll it all back up again. There is no purpose to this act other than it is done, like Aventurine’s endeavors in the IPC, there is no purpose to his victories, save that he has done it at all. There is no inherent meaning, and this is how he further contemplates the absurd.

To face the absurd/the meaninglessness, Aventurine first arrives at the answer of self-deletion. He does not succeed due to his luck however. And, when he arrives at the crossroads to be able to fulfill this wish or not, Aventurine evidently realizes that exiting from the world does not answer the questions presented by absurdism (as he doesn't choose this in the end) because it is merely a “give up” state, to end one’s meaningless life is not the answer to its emptiness at all. If there is no destination to be had in one’s journey, stopping the journey may be one of the solutions, but it doesn’t lend it an answer, it is not anything but an end.

Therefore as Sisyphus is condemned to push the boulder up and down again, a task that does not contribute anything to greater causes or anything but instead of despairing and/or creating one’s meaning, the story asks readers to imagine Sisyphus happy, to revel in the meaninglessness and eschew having to have meaning in order to be fulfilled altogether, effectively walking towards and embracing the meaninglessness.

The game never fully explores what conclusion Aventurine arrives at, yet at the end of 2.2 he decides to go on (with a little nudge here and there) even without getting the answers he seeks. He asks “Are we living just to die?” and perhaps through his journey arrives at a little conclusion that one lives to live, and to simply go on is enough and thus begins a bit of his philosophical indifference—that nothing ultimately matters and that is beginning to be just sufficient enough of an answer. 

Aventio as Philosophical Parallels

Ratio’s philosophy is all about discipline and creativity, shaping one’s own values and living a fulfilled life through them. There is a rigidity in this way of thinking that meaning must be made and pursued because it is out there. And he can take away meaning from it with as much as he wants, because he is actively shaping this meaning. It fits his character as someone who always stands apart and walks a lonely path. 

Aventurine’s extrapolated path in the absurd on the other hand ultimately frees him from any shackles to meaning that he so desperately wants and thus the concept of values will also be thrown away. A person who embraces this supreme indifference is also inextricably free from anything and thus exists in a state of chaos, living for the moment and living simply for living. Fitting for a man who sees himself in a gilded cage.

Each individual character represents an answer to difficult questions about existence itself, and there is no real right or wrong way to go about it. 

I doubt the intricacies of their situations with their aligned philosophies will be fully explored in the game itself so I like to think despite Ratio being a teacher, and thus would pull Aventurine into his brand of dealing with existential crisis, he also recognizes that students must come to a conclusion on their own and when he realizes which conclusion Aventurine has come to, would be approving, but also somehow reel him back in from exercising too much of the value-lessness of the absurd. (In 2.3 he is shown expressing some concern about Aventurine being on this path, to be so free and so uncaring as to begin to be not exactly a conscious being any longer) 

While in Aventurine’s case, he can also be the teacher in this regard and open a new path to Ratio where he can appreciate the vastness of the freedom he has, and imagine himself happy to be in this position, ultimately purposeless and futile as it is in the grander scheme of things, but meaningful to himself.

This has been very long, but I just wanted to outline and share a little about the many ways Aventurine and Dr Ratio are built and written to complement each other in the ways their characters were built up at least in a philosophical sense. I really may have missed a bunch of stuff, but I hope the gist is there!

These videos helped me a lot regarding Camus—

Why shouldn't we commit suicide? - 8bit Philosophy

How to live in a meaningless world - Unsolicited advice

[creepa-b0t-inc]

DUUUDE FUCKING AWESOMEEEEEE

The Neighbor belongs to @creepa-b0t-inc!

I think it took two or three days to finish this? But It's Done!! I couldnt get this song out of my head listen to it now now now NOW!!!

[bckwardsfrwards]

could you do dr phosphorus x reader relationship headcanons on a alien reader

Absolutely! Thanks for the ask :D

These are for a GN reader! Headcanons below the cut sorry for the long wait I have a lot of projects I'm working on at the moment!

At first he'd be a bit weary, You being from an entirely different planet and all. But he'd be quick to warm up to you once he realized you weren't a real threat to him. (Not that much is)

He'd crack stupid jokes with you most of which you don't understand. But his genuine attempts to make you laugh slowly start to work. And when you reference something from your homeworld he's equally puzzled. You both laugh anyways putting the cultural difference aside.

He often seeks you out since you more than tolerate his presence. He was so used to being alone or disregarded that he easily latches onto your genuine attention.

You often find yourselves telling stories from your past, some pleasant but most not. You sympathize with the doctor and all he has lost.

"Courting" with Doctor Phosphorus is a little strange to say the least. You're unused to Earth's unspoken societal rules and rituals. So when he is openly being flirtatious you're a little oblivious to it. You can't see his eyes and you don't understand the meaning of prolonged eye contact, so when you finally figure out his intentions of romancing you you're a little embarrassed at your obliviousness.

Actually dating the doctor is an interesting experience for the both of you. You've never been with an earthling and he's never even seen an alien before you. But you quickly catch on to what he likes.

You learn Phosphorus hasn't known a friendly touch in 15 years and without thinking too much you pull him into an embrace. He's a bit shocked when you pull back and you're completely unharmed. Casual touches quickly become one of your favorite things. Tracing the outline of his bones over his translucent skin.

You can see through him both literally and figuratively. He's not as good at hiding his emotions as he thinks. He seeks you out often just for the comfort of your presence. Whether it's sitting together in companionable silence or just holding hands, feeling the heat radiate from him.

You learn that it's not as hard to read Phosphorus as you originally thought. The way the flames on his head grow a little hotter and burn a little brighter when he's upset. How after a particularly draining mission he'll be more needy for your touch than normal.

He has no shame when it comes to your relationship. Often joking openly with the other commandos about it. Holding your hand in the back of the transport car. Trying his damnedest not to let you out of his sight. He's overly cautious and for good reason, he's terrified of losing you.

You can hold your own in a fight but whenever you find yourself injured he's gentle with you. Attentive and overly cautious making sure that your wounds are tended to. He tells you it's because he was an actual doctor once but you can tell it's just an excuse to worry over you.

As snarky and sarcastic as he is, he is also very genuine and caring. He tries to put your needs before his own whenever he can. Deflecting and claiming he doesn't need to be doted on. But you do anyway, you show him the same gentleness and affection that he so clearly craves and he melts into it.

You show him love he hasn't known in this body and he isn't sure how to handle it. He's torn between giving in and staying reserved. But he lets you in, lets himself be vulnerable and cared for.

That's all for now, maybe I'll do a part 2 and include NSFW headcanons :)

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Human Optimism

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“I will be direct with you; I was against your coming here.”

Yafin had not expected such a direct response from the head doctor and was momentarily silenced as they continued.

“When I first read your request to interview one of our oldest patients I saw it for what it really was; a puff piece meant to make a name for yourself with no regard for the patient.”

 “Now that’s not-“ Yafin began before the head doctor cut him off.

“But you wouldn’t take no for an answer and decided to go over my head to the hospital board and pitch it which is the only reason you are sitting here today.”

“Dr. Timlock, I want to assure you your fears are unfounded.” Yafin began but he saw from Timlock’s expression he would make no headway there. “Yet as you mentioned the board liked my story pitch and so regardless of what you may feel this interview is ongoing.”

“Furthermore,” he added for extra spite, “your patient even agreed to the interview and so your say in the matter has lost relevancy.”

The room was silent as the doctor fixed him with the coldest glare he had ever seen. A chill ran up his spine and he felt the room suddenly become ten degrees colder as the doctor stood up from behind her desk and walked around to him.

“Listen here you little sha’rav,” Timlock spoke through gritted fangs, “you may have gotten this sham of an interview but I am still the head doctor of this facility. If I see your questions making the patient uncomfortable or their heart rate jump even by the slightest of margins I will end it right there and then and have your legs broken.”

“That wouldn’t kill me.” Yafin chuckled.

“I know,” the doctor countered with a devilish grin, “just enough to put you into the hospital. MY, hospital; where I will make sure you don’t leave for a long, long time. Do you understand me?”

Yafin’s amused expression quickly fell away as he nodded in silence.

 “Good.” She finished and began walking to the door. “Let’s go meet your subject.” ------------------

Wayfare Station was the most advanced medical facility this side of the quadrant. It operated as a massive two tier medical institution. The first tier comprised of nearly a hundred levels capable of caring for over three hundred different species and the specific environments of their homeworlds to maximize treatment and care, while the second tier comprised of an equal number of levels dedicated to the most advanced form of medical research and testing facilities for cutting edge treatments.

Dr. Timlock was the head doctor and as such maintained a constant stream of data being sent from both tiers of her hospital. Any other doctor would have been overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information but Dr. Timlock was a Vikarian which meant her advanced neural pathways were more than capable of consuming the information and responding in short order. Everything from material request forms to latest emergency admissions she was kept apprised of.

Yafin strode after the doctor as she led them to the research tier of the facility where his interview subject was being kept for observation. It was easy to tell the transition between the two as the hallways slowly began to thin out in crowds of patients only to be replaced by an ever increasing amount of security checkpoints.

“Is this level of security necessary?” Yafin asked as they cleared the sixth checkpoint in the last thirty minutes.

Dr. Timlock let out a snort of amusement but didn’t bother to turn and address him directly as they continued walking.

“What we do here is ground breaking medical research for the betterment of the universe,” she said as they cleared yet another checkpoint that included viral gene scanning, “there isn’t a day going by that we don’t have some form of corporate espionage agent trying to break and steal that research for monetary gains.”

As if to emphasize the point Yafin cleared the next checkpoint and was greeted with the sight of a technician sprinting down the corridor with a jar of some kind before being tackled by three security personnel.

“Doctor.” One of them nodded as Timlock approached. They tilted their head in the direction of the technician being hoisted up, their hands not in iron cuffs. “Caught this one trying to steal the latest batch of treatments for bay 17.”

 Timlock looked over the spy and scoffed. “Couldn’t even wait for a shift change I see; amateurs.”

She turned her attention back to the security guard. “Excellent work as always; have them handed over to authorities and ask for max sentence to be applied.”

The guard nodded and hauled the spy away as Yafin watched; his fingers rapidly typing out what had happened on his digipad.

“What makes you think the authorities would take your recommendation into account for punishment?” Yafin asked as the pair resumed their pace.

Timlock shrugged as if the matter was now little more than an annoyance. “When you hold the lives of many an injured officer in your hands and bring them back form the cold grasp of death they tend to be generous with gratitude.”

Yafin would have liked to press this line of questioning more when the doctor suddenly stopped outside of a pair of thick green plated doors.

“Bay 233,” Dr. Timlock spoke as she swiped her security badge along the access panel, “they’re expecting you.”

The sound of thick metal bolts withdrawing drew Yafin’s attention and the thick metal doors slowly retracted into the doorway revealing a dark interior lit only by several small floor lights inlaid into the walls.

Yafin made to step forward but felt a tight hand grab his shoulder. He looked to see the Doctor fixing him with her cold gaze once more.

“Remember what I said.” she spoke.

Yafin gulped loudly and nodded. With the understanding achieved the doctor removed her grip and allowed Yafin to enter the room. She stepped in after him and the thick metal doors slowly returned to place sealing the room off with a loud thud that made Yafin jump.

“Security measure.” Timlock replied with a trace of amusement. “Nothing can get out of this room that could endanger the facility.”

Before Yafin could ask what they meant by that the floor opposite the doorway suddenly creaked and a large portion of it suddenly sunk into the floor. It peeled away effortlessly as a large cylinder like object began to slowly emerge from the ground.

“Suspended animation?” Yafin asked as he recognized the device as it continued to rise. Dr. Timlock shook her head.

“The treatment side effect made it so long term suspension was untenable. The tube itself serves as a convenient housing apparatus for the time being.”

The cylinder jerked to a stop as it ceased rising and the floor tiles closed back around it. Yafin approached the tube and with the sleeve of his arm wiped away a portion of the built up frost on the side to get a better look at the occupant inside. As he wiped it away a pair of cold green eyes were watching him from beneath the frost and Yafin let out a yelp of surprise before stumbling backwards.  

“May I introduce you to Mr. Morris Findel.” Dr. Timlock spoke up as she held on to her amused smile. “The longest patient held within our hallowed walls by four years.”

“Three years……362 days…to be….exact.”

Yafin looked around for the voice only to see it coming from a voice module built into the side of the tube. Timlock looked unphased by the correction and took a seat along the wall.

“On our world we don’t have 365 days.” She corrected Mr. Findel.

“I’m….human….” the voice continued with robotic overtones, “Of course….I count….by human….days.”

Yafin straightened himself up and finally got a better look at the subject of his interview and wished he hadn’t.

For a moment he thought the tank’s healing fluids had been corrupted as he could barely see Mr. Findel’s face. Yet upon closer inspection Yafin saw that the black fluid swirling around him was not the mistake of a cleaning system, but in fact swarms of machines clumped together into black masses. He was seemingly naked save for the long breathing tube that descended from the top of the tank and connected to his mouth, but the black swarms made it difficult to tell.  

“It’s…rude…to stare.”

Yafin’s observations were broken as the Mr. Findel was now looking directly at him.

“My apologies.” Yafin quickly replied. To his surprise the voice module chimed with robotic laughter.

“Just….pulling…your…chain.”

Yafin was confused by the dialogue and turned to Dr. Timlock to ask if the machine was broken. “It’s a human saying.” Was all she replied before allowing him to turn back around.

“Thank you for meeting with me today.” Yafin began. “I know it must be difficult with your current condition.”

“Oh?” Mr. Findel inquired. “And what….condition…is that?”

Yafin had not expected this question. His mouth opened and closed several times as he tried to find the words without sounding offensive.

“Well…..with missing all your limbs.” He finally stammered out.

To his surprise Mr. Findel’s expression adopted one of confusion.

“What….do…you mean?” he asked. “My limbs…..are right-“

Through the black mass Mr. Findel lifted what had once been his left arm only to find it severed at the elbow; his eyes growing wide in shock.

“What…is…..where….is my…arm!?”

Voice modules were notorious for lacking ability to convey emotion but Mr. Findel’s body motions were becoming frantic as he moved his body to check his other limbs and see them through the black goop of machines.

His right arm was completely gone from the shoulder, his right leg ending at the knee and his left leg only having the ball joint in his torso.

“Oh….god….” the machine began to repeat over and over as the human thrashed around in his tube.

“What did I tell you!?” Dr. Timlock’s voice shouted from behind a stupefied Yafin.

“I didn’t mean-“ Yafin began before he heard the door open once more and a pair of security guards entered.

“Get him out of my sight at once!” Timlock shouted as she ran over to the tube and began entering in several keys in rapid succession. Red warning lights descended from the ceiling as the reporter was whisked away, his last glimpse of his would be interviewee being of one of sheer panic and fear before the doors closed shut on the patient and his career. ------------------

“You….think…he…bought it?”

“Oh you really got him good with that one.”

Dr. Timlock grinned from ear to ear as the door closed behind her and the warning lights suddenly turned off. The room was quiet once more with just her and her patient alone to converse.

“I’ve…been…working on…my acting.” Mr. Findel said with an apparent grin beneath his breathing tube.

“Don’t oversell yourself.” The doctor countered as she pulled up the chair from the wall and sat down in front of Mr. Findel’s tube. “You’re no Danika Wade.”

“Everyone…is…critic.” Mr. Findel replied as he let himself be swirled around in the tube by the tiny machines.

Timlock watched this and the amusement of their prank began to fade away as old memories resurfaced.

She remembered the night Mr. Findel was rushed into her hospital. He was an engineer at the time who had been standing inside the engine room of his ship when a grade 3 explosion was triggered by a faulty power coupling. It blew him to pieces and the ship had barely limped to the hospital station before it suffered catastrophic failure and detonated as the patients were being offloaded.

Findel was projected to be die from his wounds within the hour and her lead at the time told her to move on to other patients that could be saved. Timlock had disagreed at the time and had chosen to do something drastic.

Rushing into one of the research wings, she came back with an experimental vial of nano-machines that were designed to repair even the most serious injuries. Her lead protested the usage of the experimental treatment but Timlock had administrated it anyway.

She’d watched as the machines began to repair the wounds, but all took quickly did she realize why it had remained experimental tech.

Without a base template to work off of the machines could not fully repair the body. They did not regrow his limbs to their former length and dexterity, but instead sealed the wounds shut and designated that he had reached stable condition.

Mr. Findel’s condition had stabilized, but he was still suffering from immense pain internally as not all his wounds were fully healed. When doctors tried to operate on him the machines would rapidly undo their work and “Restore” him to their designated default state leaving him in a state of suffering. Even EMP treatment was unable to disable the machines as more often one was left unaffected from the EMP and would rapidly multiply.

Timlock was nearly fired that day had it not been for the fact that to fire her would have meant admitting the hospital was incapable of treating all ailments and would damage the view in which the hospital was seen universally. So it was swept under the rug, quietly.

Mr. Findel was moved to a research wing for further treatments while Dr. Timlock was now assigned as his overseer. She dedicated much of her time to rising through the ranks to eventually have enough sway to divert the much needed materials to finally cure Mr. Findel of his current tortured existence.

“Is….something….wrong?”

Timlock’s dive into the past was broken by Mr. Findel’s voice. She looked up at him floating in a tube of her own making and sighed.

“Was thinking of the day we met,” she remarked, “and how I failed you.”

“Could….be..worse.” Mr. Findel replied as he shrugged his shoulders.

Dr. Timlock let out a chuckle of disbelief. “How? How could this be any worse?”

“Could…be…dead.” He replied almost immediately.

Timlock’s mouth hung open for a moment before finally relenting to a question she had long since wondered herself.

“Do you want to be?”

Findel said nothing and so the doctor continued.

“I’m no closer to finding a way to turn off those damn things and you’ve been stuck like this for four years.”

“Three-“ Findel began but Timlock would not be interrupted.

“Every day you’ve had since then has been nothing but pain and anguish. Don’t you want it to stop?!”

Findel floated in silence as he pondered the doctor’s words. He could see the years of failures to resolve her debacle weighed heavy around her neck.

“Yesterday…” Findel finally began. “I….didn’t know…..you…were bringing…reporter.”

“What does that have to do with anything!?” Timlock snapped back.

Findel’s expression softened. “Today….was….fun…because…of it.”

Timlock watched in disbelief. The fact that this human, this object of near constant suffering, still had some semblance of fun was almost beyond her capability to reason.

“Tomorrow….may..be worse…” Findel continued, “or……it may be.... better. I…..don’t know…..and that’s…why I….keep going….always…the chance….to be….better.”

[novantinuum]

Reformation ref sheet for an AU Steven (named "Astra") who's been invading my brain since like,, April. It's VERY wide, apologies. There's a lot going on here because this man is incredibly old and has poofed way too many times for varying reasons. (See This post for how I headcanon that Steven can poof and still be considered a hybrid being.)

While I will not talk in huge length about certain aspects of his AU on this blog due to some of it involving strong NSFW themes, there is a ridiculous amount of other lore I've developed over time for Astra, and I love him to death. He is my sad, lonely mans who I metaphorically hurl against the wall like a sticky hand when I need to feel something.

This version of Steven will likely never have any kind of full ass fic or comic made about him. Despite that, I do enjoy sharing some art and fun character lore for him from time to time. So, I might as well finally give followers like... literally ANY context for him. I've had this ref sheet for a while and just have never gotten around to throwing it on here, LOL.

Ridiculously long dump about my guy under the cut.

Subnote, this was supposed to be a quick post but I can't help myself and wrote you a fucking BOOK under the cut because I love my guy so much UWU

(Content warning I guess for like, extremely vague mentions of Steven/Steven later on.)

-

The huge tl;dr of Astra is as follows: he's a version of Steven who exists for SO long that he basically transforms into something of an ancient, lonely god.

He's outlived every single person he once knew as a child, and so as a result is starved for affection. At the same time, being vulnerable is the absolute scariest thing for him and he's really shit at navigating relationships, F.

The guy is THE most powerful living creature in his entire universe by the end, and yet remains a soft-spoken, (generally) benevolent soul. He dedicates himself to acting as caretaker for the vast, populous world he exists within, and to maintain the continuing legacy of Gemkind. A big discovery that occurs in this AU is that Gems are in fact susceptible to entropy over the span of millions of years and will eventually fall "inert," (but not him because of weird hybrid biology stuff he honestly sees as more of a curse than a blessing) so a huge plotline early on in Astra's lifespan is trying to either find a "cure" for this issue or to develop a means by which new generations of Gems can be created without the reinstatement of Kindergartens so Gemkind doesn't overtly go extinct.

-

But, to start... this Steven diverges off a point in canon- this is the timeline where he actually takes up the Diamonds on their offer of the throne in the movie, believing he may have a better chance of heralding true societal change working from the INSIDE rather than stepping away. Because he pours himself so thoroughly into his role on Homeworld and his mind is continuously occupied by this purpose, he never experiences the events SU: Future, nor does he develop his "pink mode" (yet...) or corrupt at all.

However, he's also so engrossed in his work that he's... kind of a shit boyfriend to Connie as years go on. (In that he's not terribly attentive... always super busy... their visits are often cut short, or few and far between.) Their relationship never really goes anywhere as a result, though Connie wants it to. To be fair so does Steven, but he's so scared that everything he's worked so hard to organize and set up in this new era will fall apart if he steps aside from his role for even a moment that he can't allow himself to follow that want.

At some point here he learns he can poof through a complete freak accident, and that's where things really begin to change in this timeline.

It takes a good few months for him to reform, but once he does he's back at it with all his work on Homeworld pretty quick.

The thing is... he doesn't have an innate physical need to eat or drink or sleep anymore, because he now consists of entirely hard light. It mimics human biology to an insane degree, so he COULD do all those things, but he doesn't need them to persist. So... he kinda takes this as an excuse to cut those activities out of his schedule entirely so he can spend more time focused on his duties as a diamond.

Connie is NOT a fan of this, and this leads to some debate and tension within their relationship. That being said, they remain an item...

Up until out of nowhere, Connie dies in an accident on Earth while Steven is off planet in a place where he doesn't have any contact with them for a few days. By the time the Gems are able to get in touch with him, it's far too late to resurrect her.

The kicker? In the autopsy it's discovered that she was a few weeks pregnant when she died.

Steven is emotionally gutted by this... and the thought of what could have been... and poofs.

The guy is understandably destroyed when he comes back in his next form, and his form reflects that- his gem flips as a sort of metaphorical severing from his own humanity.

He spends a long while in a deep depression at the loss of his childhood sweetheart... at the loss of any potential for (as far as he sees) a "normal" human life. There's a part of him that resents the choices he's made to end up in this present, but like, there's still work to be done.

And as the years move on, a LOT of that work is mitigating the growing relations (for better or for worse) between Gems and humans as humanity stretches their legs and reaches out into the stars. Humans kinda get... really aggressive in their expansion though, and quite territorial, and it leads towards some inevitable conflict between them and Gemkind. This time, with them more at fault. Things get so spicy that some groups of humans and Gems go to war.

Steven tries to mitigate one of these situations at the front lines- and gets poofed by a disgruntled Gem, speared straight through the back because she (kinda wrongly) assumed he would take the humans' side due to his ancestral ties to them.

When he reforms this time, he is glowing a perpetual pink. The Gems don't really know what to make of this, but he seems to be in perfectly fine health otherwise, so they assume it's just a normal aspect of this new neutral form.

And while this isn't something Steven has context to figure out until like... billions of years later, what's actually happened is that he's entered a permanent pink mode, pretty much. Guy's just got that much bottled up, unaddressed trauma.

He spends a long time in this form, and over all these thousands of years oversees the slow return to peace between Gems and humans... their marriage as a space age federation... and their deeper exploration of the galaxy. Beyond their home solar systems exist a bounty of alien species they've yet to meet... some friendly, some less so. There's definitely some conflict that crops up amidst the local galactic neighborhood when Gems and humans show up on the playing field here, lol.

But all-in-all, Steven develops a fairly peaceful and predictable routine during this reformation- living more like a Gem than ever before. He's still got the Crystal Gems at his side through all of this, and they are some of his greatest confidants.

And then... without any warning... Gems begin to go inert. Amethyst is among them.

Some of them simply stop reforming after they poof... especially those who were older Gems, or who have been cracked before. Steven and the other Diamonds using their powers together are able to "fix" this at first and "jumpstart" their reformation, but it's just a bandaid of a fix- these Gems will fall inert again pretty soon. And the longer they persist without poofing from alternate causes, the more unstable their form, power, and memory becomes. (Think of this as Gem dementia at its late stages,,, oof.)

The bottom line? Just like organics, Gems aren't immune to the forces of entropy. Sooner or later, their gemstones will decay from the inside out. Stubborn to find a way to save the ones he loves as he watches them slowly deteriorate all around him, Steven dedicates himself to trying to find a cure. But deep down, a part of him recognizes the futility of this. What he believes Gemkind actually needs to do is to develop a means of rebooting Gem incubation that doesn't destroy planets, so they can rebuild their quickly dwindling population and keep their legacy alive.

The big problem with this is that Gems take a SHIT load of energy and resources to properly incubate, so that puzzle will take a long ass time to sort out. There's kinda a lot of chaos that happens during this time. The reality of their own blunt mortality freaks out a bunch of Gems, and Steven has to do damage control with the heads of state for a lot of other alien species.

In the interim, all the Crystal Gems and some of the Diamonds (White is still in the picture, though) end up falling inert. Pearl is the last of the CGs to do so.

Steven is understandably SUPER gutted about this, and poofs yet again. (Lol notice a theme? Poor mans keeps poofing from friggin' anguish. Help him.)

After reforming with barely any changes, it's right back to work for this guy. He and the rest of his team of researchers are unable to find any cure for Gems decaying and falling inert, but they do end up making huge leaps and bounds in other kinds of tech. One of these advances allows Steven to finally deep-scan his own gemstone down to the atomic level to check for decay- this was previously a process that was very invasive, and came at the risk of irreparably damaging a Gem, but not anymore.

He expects to find evidence of the same micro decay that's been slowly eating away at the rest of Gemkind within his OWN diamond, but the thing is...

He just... ISN'T decaying at all? Even though the sheer age of this gemstone itself should suggest otherwise? As it turns out though, his existence as a hybridized being makes him kind of... an anomaly. When he first reformed all those thousands of years ago, all the data within his gem- data that would otherwise be susceptible to decay- was translated into genetic material. DNA that's woven entirely out of hard-light... but, DNA that has also been constantly regenerating itself thanks to a combination of all the intricate biochemistry surrounding the human telomere and his healing powers.

In other words, he is incapable of falling inert from natural causes, like micro decay. He's functionally immortal. Unless someone shatters him (or... heaven forbid... he shatters himself) he simply can't die.

Which, all of a sudden, makes his race to save Gemkind from their quickly approaching extinction all the more personal. Because if he FAILS- then he'll be the very last of Gemkind. There will be no one else left in this world who is even remotely like him. (Humanity has mixed and mingled with the galactic locals so much by now that they're very much unrecognizable from what they once were.)

His spirit is very nearly broken by this discovery, and he is severely tempted to throw all his own principles out the window and just sanction the construction of new Kindergartens again, if only to keep the dwindling Gem populations up and birth new generations. Perhaps surprisingly, it's White Diamond- the last Gem left who Steven actually knew since the very beginning- who urges him to reconsider. To not give up on his own morality, to not revert all the miraculous changes he's worked for these long few million years.

The big shift in the tides is when he discovers the means to jump to alternate timelines, and thus the existence of the greater multiverse. This allows him to gather intel and ideas from a far greater spectrum of sources.

And eventually... it's with the aid of many alt versions of himself from other lines across the multiverse that leads to him finding a suitable, eco-friendly solution to his Gem incubation problem. (This is the aspect of this AU I cannot discuss in length for discretion's sake. Use your imagination. Or don't, I don't care.)

The following two sections, I'll be talking more about the broad thematics than anything else. At this point, know that there are now new batches of Gems being created all the time. Gemkind is no longer at risk of any extinction, but now- like any stable organic species- new Gems are made at the same rate that they fall inert.

So, the BIGGEST thing here with this reformation is that this is overtly where this guy picks up the name "Astra." Why a name change? Well, after White finally went inert, leaving him the last Diamond in existence within this line, it basically just felt... upsetting to him, to continue to go by a name that every person he ever loved used for him. Thus, the new name is overtly a means to distance himself from that past, and from that pain. (It's also a name he chooses while thinking back to a meaningful conversation he had with White, back before she went inert, oOF. I'll probably yell about that at some point in another post.)

So, too, is the lack of any tangible facial features. He HAS a face, but others just can't see it. He subconsciously obscures it from almost everyone's sight as a means of avoiding vulnerability. One might also have noticed by now that this guy's proportions have gotten like, really strange and sorta "stretched out" over time the larger he becomes... and this is intentional, as it's yet another way he's just becoming more inhuman in form, yet another way he's internally separating himself from those humble human origins of his.

But here's the thing, though.

Deep, deep down, to be human and to live a simple human life is basically all he's ever craved. It's everything he feels he's lost forever, with the death of his Connie. And instead, he's kinda stuck in a hellish sunk cost fallacy of his own making, acting as eternal caretaker for this world that- no matter what he does to try and make it a better place- will never quite be PERFECT. Thus, in his mind, even though he's literally fixed Gemkind's BIGGEST problem, he can't Stop. He can't Rest. He simply can't allow himself himself to lay down and Sink Away into the unknown.

And even if he could allow himself to do so, he is so, so scared of walking that path alone.

If he's going to die... he wants that end to be at a lover's side.

How, though, is someone who's basically a god supposed to find anyone in this multiverse with experiences they can remotely relate to?

Well... ultimately, Astra finds that it's far, far easier to build up a close relationship with varying versions of himself than anyone else. He's... kinda trash at it, though. This guy has so much bottled up Gunk in his head and is so starved for any form of affection that he has a habit of throwing WAY too much of himself into the relationships he engages in, and expecting that same level of commitment in return. There's one relationship with an alt Steven he's in for a while that ends up pretty unhealthily co-dependent before it fizzles out, and then another where he assumes the individual is committing to this partnership for the long run, but then no... actually Astra was always pouring more into this dynamic than he was receiving in return.

This second relationship, when it ends, is pretty devastating to him- since it was one that lasted for like, a LONG ass time. Unimaginably long. We're talking billions of years, here.

Uh-oh! And now he's even more distanced from other people. Folks can't even parse his actual chosen name at this point- except he isn't really consciously aware of this for a while?? It's yet another silent cry for help, yet another internal defense mechanism specially intended to keep others from truly getting to know him. Because every time he does... stars. No matter what he does, he keeps getting hurt. Almost everyone he knows and loves is torn from his life eventually... if not by death, then by some form of tragedy... and he's just so, so tired.

He wants literally ANYTHING to change in his life. He craves some new form of purpose. He craves the attention of someone who might love him as passionately as he loves them.

For a while, he almost believes he's found that- in yet another close relationship he forges with an alt version of himself- but while this other Steven does care for him immensely, it's only as a friend. Which kinda kills Astra, because he's like, lost in the sauce levels of In Love with this guy. There's a LOOOOOOT of story I have here with this, oh my god. If I am thinking about this AU I am usually thinking about this Old Man Yaoi. The great bulk of it is very NSFW themed though, so y'all getting the cliff notes.

The MOST important thing to know though, is that Astra both makes intense leaps and strides in once again allowing himself to be vulnerable with this man, and ALSO kinda intensely fucks their whole mutually agreed situationship up. It's messy. I am crying and wailing at these two old dumbasses. Jesus fucking christ.

But then, it's in the aftermath of this whole deal that an individual named Orion comes into the picture.

Orion quite literally falls into Astra's world by complete accident, but it's a very lucky accident- because she is a diamond hybrid version of Connie from another universe who- beyond a few differences- has a strikingly similar history to his. The big difference, though? She never found a means to create new Gems without Kindergartens, so she was the last of just a few thousand Gems who existed in her entire line. Part of a deeply endangered species.

This version of Connie arrives in some very deep mental turmoil, and so Astra does his best to give them a stable home and a place to heal. And while a past version of him might've been tempted to throw way too much of himself into the slow building rapport they have, he's blessedly Learned a thing or two from the past few major relationship experiences he's had... and chooses to like, ease up. Just offer himself as a friend first and foremost, should they care for one. Man learns restraint, lol.

And it's a damn GOOD thing that he does, because out of the genuine friendship they foster, Orion is the one who ultimately falls in love with him first. The relationship that's established here is one that's balanced, a true partnership where they simply make each other better people. It's through Orion's encouragement that Astra eventually reconnects and makes up with that last person he had an intense relationship with, even.

In time, Astra truly grows to thrive with Orion in his life. He becomes a far more open, vulnerable person, someone who feels safe to truly exist as who he is, to bare every complicated, battered facet of his past to those he trusts. While he may have taken the LONG road to get here, he too heals. And as a result...

One day, Astra simply stops glowing entirely. Shrinks down to more reasonable proportions. He stops hovering around on automatic, stops subconsciously scrubbing the memory of his face or name from people's minds. He stops denying his truest, deepest self- the reality that he was born an organic being, and raised as a human.

The burred reality that all he's ever truly wanted since the day his first lover died is to be a father.

To live a quiet, simple life with the people he loves.

For so long it was a mirage of a future he thought he'd never chase down, but for how much he made all the wrong choices the first time around, now he has a second chance.

And so in my brain, that's exactly what happens. Astra and Orion start a family together and continue to act as guardians over this universe for many years to come, until- after they are satisfied with the long life they've lived together, and their children have moved on to start forging their own paths- they eventually pass Beyond at their own will in each other's arms, ending their impossibly long godhood at peace.

I really don't know how to end this post lmafo, so I will simply say: if you somehow read all of this, holy shit you are so brave. Thank you for engaging with my insane ramblings. Have a nice day LOL FUIHSNUFSJG

This man haunts my brain so much I missed two off ramp turns on the highway the other day while thinking about him. Help me.

[creepa-b0t-inc]

YESSSSS UGHHYOU'RE SO COOL

I love when you do Neighbor stuff

This is all so fuckin GOOD

TEE-V'S NIGHTLY TALK SHOW

flashing gif cw!!

well this took me a while lol, about a week-so

Tee-V belongs to me

Cabelle belongs to @goo-dripley-art

Camellia belongs to @radiant-vulpine

The Neighbor belongs to @creepa-b0t-inc

Woodstern belongs to @mercair

individual frames under cut

[justfreakynothingelse]

In The Darkest Night

Word count: Approximately 2400.

CW: Mommy kink. Light breeding kink. Dacryphilia. Self-degradation. Brief voyeurism. RAPE MENTIONS. SELF-MUTILATION MENTIONS. Neither one happens or is threatened, but I consider those very important warnings.

This is a part of an AU I've had in my head for a while. TL;DR: Primarchs get Isekai'd. Kind of like the sentient husbandry AU.

You peek in the door leading to Night Haunter's room. It'd been some months with him, now, and you still rarely entered it, though he spent time in your room almost constantly. You were just going to tell him that dinner was almost ready, but...

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"A-ah, mama, mama..."

You pause. The door is cracked just barely open. He clearly hasn't noticed you, yet. You open the door further, slipping your head through the crack, and... oh, he looks lovely... he's grinding against the mattress, with what seems to be one of your long dresses—one you just put into the dirty laundry, actually—both pressed between the mattress and his cock, and held tight while he presses his face to the chest of it.

"Mama, please— 'm sorry, I'm a good boy, I'm a good boy-"

You flush; you've felt this way about him for months, now, but had no idea he wanted the same... it's hard for you not to want him, even. The strong, hooked nose... long, black, curly hair contrasting with moon-white skin... and his eyes, pitch black like the night itself...

Why not take advantage of this? You both want it...

You open the door a bit wider and walk over to him quietly. Despite his usual hypervigilence, right now he seems too fuck-drunk to notice you. You even manage to get right against the bed. His beautiful hair is completely covering his face; he's in his own world of scent and pleasure, which is unusual for him... when he first got an erection while sleeping next to you, he threw himself off of the bed and started babbling apologies. It took some coaxing and some explaining, but you understand better, now.

On his homeworld, a place of unimaginable cruelty, the only sex he ever saw was rape. So when, for the first time ever, apparently, he found himself saddled with an erection, his immediate response was 'She must think I will rape her. Never.' which explained his reaction well enough. He even offered to let you castrate him... You managed to calm him down, but with that kind of response, it's surprising that he'd ever do this sort of thing.

That was a few months ago, now, but still... have you truly endeared yourself to this man so much?

His panting, coming out almost as whines, now, are picking up speed. You crouch by his bed as his hips keep moving faster and faster; his words an almost unintelligible slurring of his native Nostraman and what he calls Gothic, with some English thrown in, too.

(He wishes mama would ever want him like this, even though he knows she never would... he wishes she'd pull him deeper, and wrap her legs around his hips, and...)

"Mama, mama, please, I'm a good boy, let me make you feel good, please Please PLEASE-"

He presses his hips into the mattress as he cums; you could tell this isn't the first time he's done this tonight, either. His stomach was slick with cum before this. The most beautiful moan leaves him as he cums; his mouth falling open as his feet dig into the bed, desperately trying to push him further into a body that isn't there.

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He's lying there panting, muttering about how he bets 'mama 's so soft and warm,' when you finally decide to speak.

"You could've just asked, honey."

He shoots away from the edge of the bed with a hiss, then; throwing himself against the wall on the other side as he curls up tightly.

You chuckle and offer him the fluffy black robe he keeps on his nightstand to cover up with and he quickly takes it. His skin looks like he's burning alive from how red it is; huge, beautiful eyes avoiding your gaze. The mattress now exposed to your eyes, you can see he has been quite busy... a thick layer of cum coats your dress, a wet spot near the collar showing where he's been licking and sucking.

He's hiding behind his hair as you look around, though still entirely able to tell what's going on. He shifts to sitting against the wall, before stiffening as you dip a finger into the mess that coats your dress, and lick it clean... savoring the taste of his need.

You climb up onto the bed in much the same sort of animalistic way he climbs onto yours; a slow, slinking sort of movement. The sheets are tacky from sweat, under your hands. He's practically cowering, as you approach him. You pull his legs down gently, like you did when he first had an erection around you and was so nervous. Indeed, despite the robe being in the way, it's easy to tell: he's still hard.

"I tried to ignore it, but it keeps getting worse. Nothing is working! I am terrible, please... make this stop! I have a knife, to make it easier. Please, I want to be good for you-" he's clawing lines into his skin from anxiety, as he speaks. "Haunter, beloved... you are good." He startles, his hair falling away from his face a bit, revealing his eyes, pupils blown wide, as his mouth hangs open in shock.

"But, ma-" he closes his eyes and stiffens, for a moment, "-but I am disgusting. I steal your clothing and I desecrate it. I spill my wretched seed upon it and you say I am good?"

"Can I show you what I think of you, My Haunter?"

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His eyes lock onto you, and he nods slowly... like he thinks he's about to be hit, almost.

You crawl over to him, and guide him to the pillows on his bed, away from the mess he made earlier. He props himself up onto his elbows, to keep a closer eye on you. If he will be punished for his transgressions, he wants to know. His hair falls away from his face, revealing him, as beautiful as he always is, though with tears pricking at his eyes.

(What if mama doesn't want him anymore?)

A shaky breath leaves him as you straddle his hips. He wordlessly hands you a knife, preparing himself for some sort of violent punishment, only to be shocked when you toss the knife away.

(Mama's on top of him!!! She's so close, she could reach down and take him inside her and nestle him against her perfect little womb and-)

"Can I open your robe, sweetie?"

"You can do anything to me."

You frown slightly, at that. You're looking for consent, he is waiting for retribution.

"Hmm... how about this. I want to see my beautiful boy-" his eyes go WIDE, at that, "-and I want him to be comfortable with it. Are you comfortable with me opening your robe?"

He releases a shuddering breath as he nods.

"Can you use your words, My Haunter?"

"Yes mama," he whispers.

You coo and stroke his cheek, earning a lean against your hand as you push open his robe with your other hand, revealing the heavily scarred plane of his lean stomach. It's absolutely plastered in cum. He looks away and whines, as you look down at him. Your hips shift to allow you to push the robe all the way off of him; the only things it covers now are his arms.

"Oh, such a needy boy... you could've asked! I like helping you..."

He's silent, then; still looking away from the sheer mortification of mama you finding him like this.

"Do you want to know a secret, pretty boy?"

He finally looks up at you as he whispers, "Yes please, mama..."

You pull your skirt up, bunching up the long, loose fabric as you do so.

"I'm took off my underwear while I watched you, earlier."

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His mouth falls open from shock when you lifted your dress; nose flaring as he scents your pure need. You're sitting right on top of his aching cock, and despite his own self-hatred, his own desire to not defile you, he feels the steady dripping of precum beginning again.

"Can I have you, my love? I've wanted you for so long-" and he interrupts, then; the shock to his system fading as his aching, obsessive, need returns, "Yes mama! Please, say anything you want and it is yours-"

You lift yourself up, now; still holding up your skirt. All but forcing him to watch, as your body splits open around him. His breathing grows heavy; panting and whining as he has to deal with the reality that you want him. As you slowly take him further and further into you, his whines switch to a constant chant of 'Mama, mama, mama,' almost on loop. Tears prick at his eyes as they remain locked onto where your bodies are now, finally, joined.

(Mama's pretty pussy is taking all of him! She wants him? She's so soft and warm, and it feels like she's pulling him deeper and deeper still...)

He starts crying. Your gaze immediately snaps to him. You have seen this man in absolute hysterics from nightmares, and never once have you seen a single tear fall from his obsidian-black eyes.

"Haunter, honey... do you want to stop?" His eyes lock onto your face, "We don't have to keep going if you don't want to..."

"Please don't stop, mama... I never thought I would have this. I never thought you would—agh—let me within the folds of your most sacred and perfect flower... mama, please don't stop... please."

"Can you tell me what you want, darling?"

"I want you!" He almost shouts, and the words are all but punched out of him as you clench, "I want... this, and more. Every way I could possibly defile you, I have imagined countless times already. I do not care how you have me, only that you do. Please... please use me. Let me be good for you." Tears fall in a steady stream now, and despite your worries... he looks so pretty, with tears streaming silently down his face.

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His eyes have long since squeezed shut, now. His head is pressed back into his tear-wet pillow as you ride him like a toy. His hands are on your hips after you guided them there, permitting him to touch you more. Blood is staining his lips as he tries to hold himself together by biting them, until you stop moving for a moment and ask him, kindly as always, to please, let you hear him. After that... well...

"Mama! Mama, please, feel good from me! It's the only thing I'm good for, I just—anghhh—I just need to make you happy, please, mama, mama, mama-"

You move one of his thumbs to press on your clit as you ride him. He's clearly approaching his own end, bucking up into you to meet your descent, but you still need yours...

His whines reach a fever pitch as he cums. Being held within a tight, hot, willing body... it's totally different than furtively rutting into his hand in the shower, or against his bed.

"Mama, don't stop! Use me until you're done, please please-"

You sink down to the hilt on him as he cums, and something within his mind snaps. His arms are suddenly around your waist, and somehow, he's pulling you closer. Getting deeper, back arching as he paints your innermost walls white with his seed. A weak whine of "I'm sorry, mommy~" leaves him as he cums, his eyes squeezing shut as his hips twitch weakly.

His grip goes slack, after a few moments, and you return to riding him. His whining begins anew, though far higher pitched now, due to his heightened sensitivity in the wake of his orgasm. He can't even speak now; his mind is just so focused on how you're moving, how you're squeezing him... how there's some cum slipping down his cock as you ride him. He seems to be trying to speak, sometimes, but all that comes out is high-pitched whines. Tears keep slipping down his face, and oh, he looks so very pretty, while this desperate for you...

(It feels like mama will break him... she's so pretty, and too tight, and she's not done yet... her thighs are so soft against his hips... will she let him sleep next to her like usual, tonight? She looks happy with him, and it feels like she's somehow getting tighter... Is he finally going insane? He feels like he's burning alive and melting at the same time, and another orgasm is fast approaching him)

His calloused thumb has you seeing stars as he rubs on your clit, itself aching and needy from the constant stretch of him within you. You can feel the rope of your orgasm stretching tighter and tighter, like the mooring line of a ship. He's helping pull you down onto him as you ride; the shock of your bodies colliding ripples straight through to your clit, it seems, and in only a few moments...

Your moans feel like they grab his stomach and twist; reaching to the depths of his unconscious mind, to the most primal and base parts of it. His orgasm, which could have taken far longer, suddenly crashes upon him like a rogue wave; overcoming him completely and drowning him in bliss. You feel like a vice around him; where once he slipped within you like you were made for him, now he must all but bully his way within your clenched walls, desperately seeking to be as deep within you as he can reach before his seed spills from his body.

(Mama is gonna milk him dry; it's too much, please, please, it's too much-)

He presses himself against your cervix as he cums, and it hurts, but it feels so right. His cum is almost scorching hot, and you can feel it slipping into your womb, just like the last time he came. He's frantic, underneath you; hands desperately grasping for purchase as he tries so hard to get you—and keep you—against him.

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You collapse down against him as your orgasms wind down. Heavy, fervent panting is the only sound in the room as he stares up at you, wide-eyed. You slowly move onto your side, grabbing onto his thigh once you're side by side, making sure he won't leave your walls. He gasps, as you do. Your hips and legs are wiggling around a bit, trying to find the best angle to keep him deeply within you. Content that he won't leave you, your hands move up to his arms, turning the situation into something more intimate. No longer the rutting of half-crazed animals, no. Now a lover's embrace, almost. You cup his cheek, and for the first time, he moves in to kiss you. Choosing to love.

Choosing to trust.