#if anyone has an actual solution i am all ears
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I have a problem in that I love the pressure of weighted blankets but ALSO I heat up riddiculously quickly. I am like a mini furnace and sweat too much under my regular weighted blanket. So I was thinking water is pretty dense AND it has a high specific hear capacity (takes a lot of energy to change temperature). The solution is obvious: I need a blanket made out of water.
#if anyone has an actual solution i am all ears#until then i will just imagine my water blanket#weighted blankets
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Alastor in Rut (one shot)
Rutting Alastor x Fem Rabbit Reader
Less than confident and lacking much in the way of assertiveness, you find hell to be scary. But, a very kind and helpful deer demon has a solution! Just in time, as an unexpected rut hits him and he feels the need to reel you in.
this is pure self indulgence. Shout out to @jazzmasternot , @lustylita , @sugoi-writes , and @minkdelovely for keeping me sane and horny (with art lol)
「Warnings/Promises: actual warning - mentions of accidental vehicular homicide and reader's death, Marathon Smut, p in v, finger almost in a?, anal is considered, knotting because fuck it, attempt at breeding, womb flooded, not dubcon but everyone in the hotel thinks it is, slightly repetitive fucking because he wont waste semen on other holes, Alastor would fuck anyone but you’re the most amusing, Alastor doesn’t think he’s the good guy which is honestly kinda cute, deadass talk about making you carry his fawns?? Why is it so hot?? Knock me up deer man bleat bleat bitch, implied previous relationship with a human man, plans to cuckold your ex, heat, blue fire isn’t hot, you’re tricked into a deal with Alastor, kinda size kink, demon Alastor, minor aftercare, a little sexual choking (as a treat)」
Hey--- we're all here for something. This is 10000 words, 5300 or so is smut. Smut starts at the bright green divider for you impatient and horny deeries.
MINORS YOU KNOW THE DRILL DNI
The line for reception was long, but that was to be expected. After the extermination ended early and Adam killed on television by a maid, the Hazbin Hotel had been busy. Or so you overheard others saying. You’d only been in hell a day, lucky enough to catch the advertisements and hear the gossip for the hotel soon after your descent.
You recognized the princess immediately, but not that tall man beside her. He wasn’t doing anything, just staring and smiling. Was he friendly? Were there friendly people in hell? Truly friendly. Not high school girl friendly. Or hungry witch friendly. He had witch vibes.
“Hiya welcome to the”, she took a deep breath in, “Hazbin Hotel! I am Charlie! This is Alastor! What did you do to bring you to hell? Gotta know so we can cater your redemption activities to your sins!”
She was staring at you so happily, pen over paper. Your eyes nervously shot to the man, who leaned down in response.
“I fell asleep driving and killed someone, and myself.”
Everything about Charlie was frozen still except the sudden glossiness forming over her eyes. “You… you… were you like, a thief or… did you…… push old ladies into traffic?”
You shook your head no.
“Gluttonous? She asked.
“No, I wasn’t a fan of overindulgence.”
“Prideful, then?”
“Unfortunately… I don’t think too highly of myself. Living or dead.” Your hand came to your down turned rabbit ears, sad and limp. Even in death you weren’t the right kind of anything.
“Uhh,” Charlie clicked her pen furiously again and again, “Lustful?”
“Just the one partner. My highschool sweetheart.”
A sweat was forming on Charlie’s brow, “Sloth?”
“I did fall asleep behind the wheel… but it was from working 25 hours of overtime this week.”
Charlie put the pen down, “I don’t think you belong in hell. You made an accident. That’s not how sins should work…”
Your eyes bore holes into the desk, avoiding eye contact, “I don’t think heaven cares much about that.”
“Poor thing. Let’s circle back, Charlie.” Alastor’s large hand rested on your head, patting twice.
She nodded, “Good call. I’ll just,” her tongue stuck out as she began to write, “make a new category just for you! Other.”
Yeah that made sense, you thought. That was fitting. This truly was hell. Finally you stood out, as the one who didn’t fit in. You supposed that’s what a wallflower deserved for murder.
“Follow me little one.” The tall Alastor instructed you as he snatched a key from the hook and walked past you.
Happily. Small tail uncontrollably swishing as you followed a foot behind him.
A hum of approval, Alastor noticing the distance you kept.
“You obey instructions well.”
You always did. “Thank you.” Tiny and soft, your response made his shadow shift and smile.
It wasn’t a compliment, but the fact you took it as one interested him. Subservient.
Fun.
“I take it that you really were a good girl in life, weren’t you?” He swiveled on his heels to face you, the sudden change causing your face to run into his lower chest.
A song of apologies fell from your mouth as you backed up, tripping over your own pathetic attempts at platitude and falling back onto your ass.
He was tall before but now he towered over your, hand outstretched to help you up. You offered a thank you before taking it.
Clawed fingers tightened around your palm. Not letting you pull away. “You’re new to hell, right?”
A glance around, no one else in the hallway, “Is it obvious?”
“Yes. But also, you mentioned work this week.”
A nod, “It’s been maybe a day.”
Delicious.
“Could I offer you some advice?” He leaned down, hand tightening further. Wide eyed and a little frightened with the change in atmosphere, you just nodded again. “It’s very dangerous out there for little prey animals like yourself.”
“Aren’t you also a prey animal?”
His hand uncurled.
A moment of tension, Alastor leaning down further.
A strange sound was coming from his microphone, the best approximation you had was a car radio going haywire skipping through the channels.
“Room 243!” His body popped up and he held the key out for you. The hallway lights seemed to be glowing brighter now.
You grabbed the key, “Thank you!”
Two fourty three was just past him. A small tremble kept you from getting the key in on your first and even second try.
You didn’t even stop to turn on the light, just pushing the door closed behind you as soon as your body was through the threshold.
The relief barely left with a sigh when you heard it, “You know…”
Frozen, your eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see the shining of his red and pink eyes in front of you.
“I’m somewhat of a deal maker. For a small price, I could help you. Perhaps, you’d like a change of appearance?” His voice seemed to be coming from the walls, above and beside you all at once.
Something lifted a floppy ear. But his eyes were too far from you for it to have been his own hands. A small scream as you smacked at the appendage.
“What do you say? I can use a little magic to make you happier with your new form.” A dark whisper into your right ear.
Your hands flew to your head before you dropped to your knees to escape the hidden things touching you.
“What do you want?” To your left now. “Let’s make a trade. A deal.” Above your head.
His eyes were gone. Just darkness and a soft laugh echoing around you.
Your mind was reeling through possible answers, what did you want? At that moment? In general?
An answer tumbled out, too quietly.
“Hmm?” His eyes reappeared closer to you and glowing a bloody red. “Speak up, my ears are quite a bit higher than your mouth.”
A second attempt, “Safety. I wanna be safe.” The laughter got louder, mocking you without words.
“A little tougher of an ask.” The sound of something slithering near your feet made you pull your knees tighter to your chest. “But! I’m here to please. In exchange for protection from the more nefarious of hell’s citizens I’ll need something worth my while.”
Of course, that is how deals work, right? A promise with compensation.
“I don’t have any money, or possessions yet. Maybe I should try again later?” You were lost in the light of his stare and found the darkness deepening around him.
A considered hum, “Well, you’re already dead. You’ve no need for your soul. Damned as it is, give it to me instead. To keep safe. And I’ll always answer your calls for rescue when in harm's way.”
Why would…what use was a soul, you wondered. Was he right? But if he wanted it, surely it had value. You were too new to this world, scared to say yes and part with what little you had.
At the risk of angering the demon in the darkness of your room, you whispered to yourself and hoped he would hear it, “I think I shouldn’t.”
Hissing in your ear, “Disappointing.”
The lights flickered on, an empty room. A bed. A nightstand. A closet. A bathroom. No tall smiling dealmaker.
A tremor stayed in your hands through the night.
To your surprise, when you ran into Alastor the next day he was more than kind. He was eavesdropping when you asked Charlie if the hotel needed any staff. Not only did you want to be of use, you were hoping to earn some money. He quickly slid beside Charlie suggesting things you could do.
Wow, you thought. He didn’t hold a grudge at all. Maybe he had been trying to help before?
It took a few weeks, but you found a groove. You were a floater between the staff, helping Husk with the restocking of his bar, following behind Niffty with supplies her tiny arms couldn’t carry, and keeping notes for the activities Charlie held. It was vital for you to feel needed and everyone seemed happy to have you around. Hell wasn’t so bad.
“Dear,” Alastor found you holding a basket of towels in the hallway on a rather standard weekday, “I need an errand runner. Do you mind?”
You had been finding Alastor’s presence enjoyable, a little secret you held. He was always smiling, which made you smile in turn. And his manners, well, perfect. You couldn’t understand why such a sweet man was in hell, but then you considered you were also in hell. Mistakes happen, perhaps he was also damned by technicalities.
Not that you would ask him, you barely spoke a word to the deer demon. Every time he was around you your throat would close up. Oftentimes you would pull your hands behind your back to shield the wiggle of your too-honest tail.
When he would speak to you, you would get so focused on the sound of his voice and watching his mouth move you’d actually not hear a damn thing he said. You must have looked like an absolute airhead, always replying, “What?” every time he finished a statement.
“Hellooo, anyone home in there?” He knocked gently on your skull. Ah, those big hands again. He watched the pink bloom across your cheeks, your hands coming to your ears to pull them down as your mind wandered off. A snap of his fingers finally brought you back.
“Sorry, what?” Your eyes were bright as you finally made the journey all the way up to his face.
“Welcome back. I need some stuff picked up from a shop downtown. I can’t leave right now, mind hopping over for me?” The grin he offered you made you melt.
“Of course!” That damn tail shaking behind you, “What am I picking up?”
He waved his hand, “Not important, it’ll be all wrapped up and waiting.” The radio effect of his voice grew, “I’ll write down the address.”
Terrible handwriting. You could barely read it, but didn’t want to insult him so you just nodded as he followed you to the doors. Pausing, you realized it was your first time leaving the hotel alone.
“What’s wrong? Not up to it?”
You shook your head, “No! I can do it. Thank you.”
A pounding in your chest made you question if you were actually dead. But despite your concerns, no one bothered you beyond some catcalling and intense glares. Staring at the paper, you struggled to decipher the address. Was that a 7 or a 1? A 4 or a 9…? You were in the general area, the street name lined up and the first couple numbers of the address too.
You brought the paper closer to your face, maybe if you really inspected it you could figure it out.
A shriek, dropping the paper to felt a small goblin-like creature pushing at your knees. Another, then another, began to appear from the shadows of the street. Black and white little creatures pushing and pulling at your legs until you tumbled over.
“Help!” You thought it was a shout, but it came out as a soft spoken request, the tone itself adding a ‘please’ to the end.
They weren’t hurting you, just knocking you over every time you tried to stand up like grade school bullies. You managed, the creatures relenting momentarily before a stockier one materialized. A step back, what did they want? Money? You pulled out your wallet and opened it but the large one smacked it to the ground.
That quick heart skipped a beat when your back hit against something solid. As your head bent backwards, you could see those red and pink eyes looming over you.
“Oh dear. Trouble already?”
You could cry. You did cry, a little, at the sight of a familiar face. With a flourish of his hands, those previously unseen tendrils whipped from his back and flung the aimless attackers away.
Rescue! You hugged his waist, a chorus of ‘thank yous’ and ‘Oh, Alastor!’ into his chest.
“Now now, can’t even be a proper task rabbit. You really do need some safeguarding.” He peeled you off him, brushing his coat off. Your mind thought back to the offer. “And I don’t see my purchase… didn’t complete the task either?”
You shrunk, you’d entirely failed him. His smirk was one sided, eyes half lidded and expression dramatically disappointed. Alastor sighed and turned to walk away from you. You’d let him down. He’d been nothing but accommodating and gentle.
“I’m sorry! Alastor!” You grabbed his wrist, eyes shut so you didn’t see the green glow of arcane symbols floating up around him. “Can I please have that deal? Please. I’m sorry, you have my soul as payment.”
Painless, selling your soul. With a handshake, a little light show, and a whirling of magic, you had done it.
“Excellent choice!” Alastor patted your head, “I’ll come to your aid when you’re scared for your life! Aaaand in return, your soul is mine. Easy peasy, yes?”
Fine, not an issue in the slightest. “Do I need to do anything?”
“About what?” His eyes wandered to inspect his fingernails.
“My soul.”
A barking laugh, “No. You’re tied to me now, dear. As for my end, just call my name when you’re in danger and I’ll,” a flourish of his talons, “rescue you.” His smile strained as he peered down at your little face, “Why are you crying?”
“I’m so happy to have the help, thank you Alastor! You really are just, amazing. Your mother raised you right.” Your hands were holding your cheeks, grateful and feeling a little less alone.
The mention of his mother made his back straighten, a bloom in his chest he knew all too well to be pride. Finally, someone was vocalizing his better qualities. Well, other than Charlie. But impressing Charlie was like making a dog think you’d thrown a ball. Just a little quick whirl of your hands and a couple sweet words with a smile and she’d be all wagging tail as she ran to retrieve nothing.
But he supposed you were very much like Charlie, easily tricked and distracted. Had you really not noticed those goons were his? Or that the address wasn’t real? Were you stupid or naive? His head fell to the side unnaturally as he watched you talk. He wasn’t listening, though. He took in your features, slight but average. His hand came out absentmindedly and felt at one of your long and limp ears. He didn’t see you blush or caught how you stiffened.
Naive. Terribly naive.
Perfectly usable.
He dropped your ear and turned to leave. “I won’t rescue you twice in one day. Best to follow me home if you value your life.”
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
You hadn’t told anyone about the deal, a secret for yourself to keep. Partly because you were embarrassed you needed the help, and partly because you had been warned extensively to not make a deal with the deer demon. Everyone had such a peculiar idea of Alastor, it seemed to you. Even after making a deal, he was still…Alastor. Always offering a joke, or playing something jaunty in the shared spaces. You could vent and whine and Alastor would hum as he read. Always offering a gentle pat to the head when you were sad or did something he liked.
So when Alastor suddenly left the group in a sweat, hands shaking and body rocking slightly side to side, you were quick to follow behind him. He bumped off the walls a couple of times before making it to his room and falling forward past the threshold.
You waited for the door to close before running down the hall and knocking.
“Are you alright?” You pressed your cheek against the wood and listened for any reply.
Alastor was still on the floor when you knocked, which worked out well. He leaned against the door, ears flat with his condition. He took a deep breath, voice dropping an octave and carrying easily to you, “Just— an out of season rut. Unexpected and unwelcome. Without any does nearby it’s quite odd.”
“Oh, are deer not like rabbits? Rabbit does are always in estrus! Mating actually triggers their ovulation. Neat, huh?” Silence, Alastor’s ears turned forward focusing on every other word.
Does, always, oestrus
Mating, triggers, ovulation
“I had pet rabbits when I was little. Isn’t that funny though? That they’re also called does.” You worried he thought you were weirdly interested in rabbit sex. “We had them as pets. So….,” a silence you misinterpreted as awkward.
Alastor tapped a long claw on the door before dragging it down the wood. A line was etched behind, “Is that so?”
You knelt down to get comfortable, “How long will it last?”
“Ah, hard to say. I've only suffered through a few. Alone, perhaps a week.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“With an appropriate partner, a deer demon would rut for two days. One for mating with his doe, one for guarding his doe from rivals who could still interfere with conception.”
His doe. You both found your throat running dry at the words.
You nodded, “Oh wow, I guess that’s why you always see bucks locked together in fights.”
“Precisely.”
“But...can sinners actually conceive?” You gulped, the idea was a little naughty to you. The entire conversation was actually making you uncomfortable. The kind of discomfort that made your breath pick up. The kind of discomfort that shifted to hunger with just a few words or a well placed look.
“No, but that doesn’t matter. Once fully in the hold of a rut or heat, demons aren’t motivated by logic.”
You nodded again, forgetting he couldn’t see you. “Oh okay…” the idea of Alastor rutting into his own hand desperate to fill a womb made your knees come together. “Must be hard for you. As an asexual.”
A hum, confusion breaking his creeping fog for a second, “A sexual what?”
“Nevermind.” You shook your head, shaking off the topic with the motion.
Alastor could smell your arousal wafting under the door. A feverish chill ran through him, drawing the fog back into the recesses of his mind.
“Well… I’ll let you rest. I know you can’t call me, so I’ll stop by to see if you need anything.”
His mouth opened to correct you— he could call you in a sense, and he didn’t need help as he had minions he could summon with a snap.
“That sounds lovely, what a helpful thing you are.” The words came out strained, his jaw tensing. How much longer could he hold out? The thinnest lie held in place that he’d suffer alone through the week. Already compromised by his errant shadow, flat against the carpet beneath your thighs.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Within hours Alastor was lying on the floor with his limbs splayed out. The sweating was the worst, not the heat. He could feel ticklish drops dripping down his stomach. His hair was sticking to his face, adding to the mounting overstimulation. Wet, hot, clothes clinging to his body like a second skin. A clawed hand pulled off his bow tie. His fingers shook too much to handle the tiny buttons of his shirt so he gave up and ripped it open.
It fell into a pile with the bow tie and soon his pants and socks joined. Sitting up on his elbows he looked down at his underwear, he wasn’t hard yet but he knew the smallest touch could trigger what could be days of painfully swollen erections.
He fell back to the floor with a huff, hands raking through his hair and gripping his ears a little rougher than he’d meant to. A gasp, red tipped talons feeling down his ears and slipping around his already growing antlers.
Alastor’s eyes rolled back, strong hands squeezing his prongs, tugging them forward as he imagined anyone riding him. Using his appendages as a handle while he bucked up into them. His hips were already moving, lower back rising off the carpet as he rolled his body up into the imaginary mate he despised his desperation for. His mind flicked through faces. Husk’s pained but satisfied expression, Vox’s tears as he whined, Carmilla’s lusty eyes paired with surrendered sighs. He lingered briefly on Angel’s smirk as his hands roamed down his chest and his thighs in tandem.
But through the darkness of his imagination he saw two watery and timid orbs, tears welling as eyebrows rose in confusion. Pleasure making the features soften. Soft. Soft velvet ears he could tug on in turn, a little bushy tail he could grip.
A doe.
The only doe he knew of in the hotel.
The radio on the writing desk flipped through channels, piecing together the sounds to form the words he was trying to forget, a magazine ransom note cut from sound bites.
....out the windows
....always and forever,
....in yesterday.
....rusty cage
May you never....
Hating how I....
....pull the trigger
....say you love me?
....congratulations
The relevant sounds spiked in volume, mocking him.
He walked to the radio and hurled it across the room. Aggression. Already he was losing himself to hellish biology.
A minor part of him didn’t want to use you. You always looked at him with such adoration, which he’d come to look forward to when others weren’t giving him adequate attention. You also seemed to genuinely see him as a friend, as much as he didn’t directly feed that idea.
But using people was how the world worked. Everyone was using someone. You had said how much you wanted to help… Alastor leaned on the desk with both hands and watched the sweat fall onto the wood and leather writing surface.
How was his body leaking from every pore but his mouth was so dry?
His shadow reached for the thrown radio, the light flickering on. That dark doppelgänger using a song to offer another piece of torment for him, ‘you ain't never caught a rabbit and you ain't no friend of mine.’
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
You had been speaking to Husk about what you could do to help prepare the bar for the weekend when a green light began to form around your neck.
“Did you— Did you make a deal with him?!” Husk dropped the dish rag, hands shooting to your shoulders, “Hold on! I’ll— fucking hell. Fuck!”
“Wait what’s wro-,” you were standing inside an unfamiliar room, just at the door, before you could figure out why Husk was panicking. Looking up, you locked eyes with Alastor. The room was dark, curtains drawn shut and ceiling lights off. A slight glow from a roaring blue fire to your left. His eyes were those familiar glowing red orbs in the darkness of his large canopy bed. “Oh, Alastor.” You finally noticed the third light source. A neon green large linked chain was wrapped around his fist. Following the squared interlocking pieces down the length of the bed, across the carpet and up as you looked down to find it ending on you.
Your hands touched your neck, feeling the cold metal of your collar.
Alastor took a deep breath in, a shaky exhale following.
Oh. You’d heard from Angel how his deal with his boss often materialized as a series of smoke rings linked and attached to him.
Before you could question it any further you were sliding across the floor, hands and feet struggling to find purchase as he reeled you toward the bed. Alastor lifted you by the glowing chain around your neck, evidence of the deal you so easily accepted.
“Can a deer breed a rabbit?” He mused, breath ragged as he struggled to remain in control of his impulses, “Doubtful. But I’ll give it my sincerest efforts, regardless.”
“Alastor-! You don’t want to do this, it’s just your rut.” You pulled back, legs kicking and piling up the blankets. It was fruitless.
He laughed, incorporeal radio studio audience joining along. You couldn’t stop from glancing at the straining fabric of his black boxers. Setting a small hand on his chest to better attempt to push away you gasped, “You’re burning up!” The fear of the moment left you entirely, replaced with deep concern.
He gripped your wrist with his free hand, not letting go of the chain in his right, “The fever is unbearable. My mind is slipping away.”
“Is this normal?!” Your hands came to his cheeks, his forehead, his neck. You remembered how your grandmother always checked your temperature, and pressed your lips to his sweat slicked brow. “You poor thing…”
When you pulled back you were met with the bright and blown out pupils of Alastor’s gaze. He was staring at your mouth, the green of his magical connection to you reflecting off his glossy eyes.
“Poor me.” He’d been sitting with loosely crossed legs but got on his knees. His face rose until he was looking down at you, hand now holding your chin, “You promised to help me.”
Your eyes were looking everywhere but his face.
His hand on you tightened, cheeks squished together as he pulled your head up, “Are you a liar?” Of course not. His hand made your head shake left to right.
The trembling of your hands was obvious to you both. A cruel laugh, “Do I scare you, little bunny rabbit?”
In life you weren’t popular. No one hated you, but, well, you never had much luck attracting the men all the women seemed to want. No one of power or consequence ever paid you any mind.
Alastor was scary. But were you scared? Someone strong wanted you. Someone people feared was saying you were good enough for them.
Tears welled in your eyes as you felt your tail wiggling side to side. Your body always betrayed you. Your own death had been the doing of your body’s inability to listen to you.
He couldn’t see the tail but the way your face screwed up in shame tipped him off. Letting go of your face, super heated finger pads slipped down your back. He slotted your tail between two fingers. There was no reason for it to be such an intimate action, but your entire body trembled.
Another deep sigh from Alastor, closing his fingers around the base and pulling gently. A test. Your head dropped to hide your reaction.
“Ah ah, eyes on me.”
He hummed happily as you did as you were told.
But the moment was cut short, you jumping when a rough knock came to the door.
“Alastor!” Vaggie was turning the knob despite knowing it was locked, “Is she in there? Open the fucking door.” A kick, a threat, “Now.”
“I’ll need your answer.” He leaned back onto the pillows piled behind him. Making a point, he lifted your chain and dropped it. It dissolved into nothingness before it could hit the bed.
“I’m here!” You said barely loud enough to be heard through the wooden door. Your eyes were drawn to Alastor’s lap as he pushed down his underwear to free his deep red cock.
His hand tenderly touched his base, hissing with the contact.
“For fuck’s sake Alastor!” Vaggie yelled, “You have three seconds to open this fucking door before I rip it off the hinges.”
Alastor’s head fell back with a moan, stifled as he bit down on his lip.
“One!”
As his fingers slid up his length and touched his leaking slit his entire body violently shook.
“Two!”
He opened his eyes just barely. You hadn’t noticed the antlers on his head were quite a few times larger than normal.
“I’m okay!” You shouted, the loudest noise you’d made since your death, but not the loudest you’d make by the end of the day.
Silence.
Mumbling.
Vaggie spoke up again, “Are you sure? Come out and talk to us first.”
His hand began stroking himself, precum spilling down. Something soft and fuzzy was settling over the front of your brain.
You scooted backwards off the bed, eyes staying on his lap. The light color of his inner thighs. The little bit of red and black tail you could see squished down under his ass.
“Hello!” You opened the door just enough to shove your head through. “Hi there gang.”
Husk’s arms were crossed and his foot tapping, “Are you really okay? No matter the deal he can’t fucking make you stay in there with him.”
While you weren’t sure that was actually true, it wasn’t an issue, “I wanna stay! He needs someone to watch his fever and-,”
A brief rush of cool air up your shirt before a hot mouth was pressing into the small of your back.
Vaggie’s eyes narrows, “and?”
“And! And. Yes.” Your eyes shut, “and take care of cleaning up after him.”
They shared a glance, “He can just make his little creatures do it.”
A surprisingly long tongue ran up your spine.
“Oh my god.”
“What?”
“Oh my god! No! I couldn’t let my friend,” you sucked your bottom lip in as his hands wrapped around your waist and undid the button of your pants, “rely on strangers.”
Husk sighed, “Alright, just… like, call us or something? If you need anything.”
You began to nod but the door was shut and locked by Alastor before you could reply.
₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊
Your face hit the wall as you lost balance when he pulled down your pants and panties with one yank and buried his face into your crotch. His tongue licked at the wetness pooled at your entrance.
Any moans would probably still have been heard by the other two so you tried to keep quiet. Alastor didn’t seem to care though, growling into your skin.
The fever seemed it would spread skin to skin, but when he pulled away you found your body quickly cooling. Taking a moment to breath before turning back, you wondered if you’d made a great decision or a terrible one. When you turned, Alastor was settling back into his previous spot. “I could rip the rest off of you or you could undress yourself.” He wasn’t looking at you as he said it. You made quick work of removing your shirt and returning to the bed as you had before.
"Turn around."
You turned to face the door.
"On your hands and knees."
You paused briefly, but did so.
As you bent over, little tail high and trembling, Alastor’s clawed thumbs spread open your bottom lips. Perhaps it was embarrassment or just the nerves but you were twitching open and close.
You heard a low “Fuck” before the feeling of heat dripping onto you made you jerk forward. One of his hands came to your shoulder to hold you in place, the other kept your hole open as his seed continued to dribble down onto it.
He hadn’t been trying to cum, but his body was already responding to the opportunity before it; a breedable and submissive doe. His cock trigger-happy at the sight of your pussy, inside pink and clenching.
A tiny yelp as he fell over you, joining you in an all fours position but larger body caging yours between his limbs. He laughed again when the back of your head hit him square in the chest.
“You are uselessly small.” His body rumbled over you. “Clever girl to make a deal for protection.”
A burning stiffness slid down your folds. You could feel from even how little contact he made he was too big. Was it a bad time to tell him you’d only had the one partner on earth? A rather boring but sufficient sex life. If Alastor was hoping for a sex kitten he’d be deeply disappointed in you.
He hummed imagining dropping his weight and feeling you fruitlessly squirm under him.
“Mating triggers ovulation, I recall you said. I just need to fuck you into it, right sweetheart? Maybe if I do a good enough job,” his hands gripped the flesh of your ass, “your body will actually respond. Your belly will swell with the evidence of my virility.” Both hands slipped down your hips and came to nestle above your womb, tenderly caressing the protective layer of fat there, “could your little form handle it?” Little form? Not quite. But to him everyone was little. Claws leaving faint red marks as he dragged them up your ribs, around your sides and pressed your back down to get your chest into the bed and ass in the air.
A squeak, your legs flailing with what little motion they had as you turned your head, “Well that’s for actual rabbits not--.”
His hand came over your mouth, “Shhh, there's safety in the quiet. Don’t you know? We’re most vulnerable when we mate.” On the utterance of the word you’d been avoiding to even think about Alastor’s still hard cock squeezed its way into you. Your body was willing, but your pussy wasn’t ready to accommodate him. Not that your living partner had been small, but he wasn’t a seven foot tall rutting deer demon. And with height came a girth and length you’d not anticipated. You had seen it, yes, but that didn’t translate to much once Alastor was entering you.
His hips were snapping back as soon as he sank in. It frustrated him endlessly that he wasn’t trying to fuck you with such a lack of control. He couldn’t have been sure he’d have done it any differently had the circumstances been changed, but he liked to think he’d retained some skills over the long years alone.
The way he whined made him sound like a weak man, which he was in that moment. You wanted to call out his name, do the things you were used to doing during sex, but his hand was still over your mouth.
As if he heard your thoughts, his fingers spread open over your lips. Pinky under your chin to keep his hold on you.
“Alastor,” the tenor of your voice surprised you.
“Stick out your tongue.” He sounded far away, despite being right behind you. When you did as he instructed his hand shifted. Two long fingers went into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue. Immediately his fingers and your chin was dripping with drool. He whined again, louder, the noise growing into a growl as his speed began to pick up.
You could feel the thin flesh at the bottom of your entrance stinging as it was failing to stretch enough for him. It would have bothered you more but the way his burningly hot cock's head was pressing into your cervix was making your eyes lose focus.
Without ceremony, you felt a rush of heat deep in you. Your shins lifted from the bed as you squirmed, weak attempts to escape the deep press.
His hand left your mouth and you felt it working on the base of his cock that was not yet in you. He mumbled something, it sounded like an apology, before you felt him pop the rest of himself in. You choked on your scream, not knowing what he had put in you.
It throbbed, new and stronger spurts of his seed felt against an indescribable place.
A brave hand reached between your thighs and felt at the space between your bodies—- well, would have felt at that space. But there was none. You were flush against his lap. Your fingers slid down to feel taut balls pulled up into his body.
He shivered as you traced between them, checking neither were … inside you.
“I should have warned you, but my ability to speak wasn’t—,” he waved his hand around, “available.” You tried to pull away but found you both were locked together. “A knot. Not an accurate representation of a deer… and technically useless.”
That word meant nothing to you. “Is it normal?”
His thumb pressed at the virgin tight ring of muscle just above your pussy, you instinctively jerked away but just made yourself gasp as that large knot in you threatened to further tear you if you kept it up. “I don’t normally do it so early in a mated rut.”
You surrendered, trying to relax your upper body into the bed. “How do we get it out?”
A mocking chuckle, “It’ll deflate, so to speak, in a couple minutes. It’s just keeping my little doe in place while I finish filling her up.” He patted your ass.
It was mortifying to be suck in that position.
“Have you ever used this hole?” He rubbed some of your wetness up to your asshole.
Your tail lifted, “My boyfriend didn’t like anal.”
Alastor massaged around the puckered ring, “I didn’t ask if he used his.” Your head turned to look at him, shaking it ‘no’. You noticed his face looked less strained now, and that his finger didn’t feel like a fire was just under his skin. “Ah, well. I won’t need it today anyway.”
He didn’t see the bright blush that came over your face. He spoke so easily about the topic, a topic you’d never heard him speak on before. One you’d been told he had no interest in.
An error you made, assuming a lack of interest meant a lack of knowledge or experience.
When he finally could pull himself out of you, you felt a rush of warmth down your inner thighs. Looking under you, past your chest and between your legs, you saw the thick white semen escaping from your stretched entrance.
You’d never seen such an opaque release before. You wondered if it was a hint at his…potency. You wondered more what was happening in your body at that moment.
“Will it come out on its own or do I need to clean it?” Finally sitting up, your fingers felt the mess still dripping out of you.
Alastor leaned back onto his legs, ears turning in your direction as you asked, “Is this your first time? Your little boyfriend never finished in you?”
Crossing your arms, you turned to him, “Don’t be patronizing to him. And no, okay?”
He felt the heat rising from his gut again, cock twitching at every bit of the scene before him. Insolent body language, an attempt to scold him, and an admission. You watched him sit back up, a sudden reminder how much taller he was as darkened eyes looked down on you. The blue of the fire cast half of his face in shadows. “What’s this? My obedient doe wants to defend another man in my bed?”
Your hands nervously came to the ends of your ears, “I didn’t mean it like that.” A finger twirled, telling you to turn around. You hesitated. Did he want you to leave? He didn’t want to look at you? You hadn’t—, “I’m sorry.”
With a blink, his eyes were black. His fingers longer as parts of him seems to stretch between the joints. He twirled them again as his smile grew wicked.
Desperate to show him you hadn’t wanted to upset him, that you wanted to stay, you turned around. The fear of not knowing what he would do next was sending waves of electricity to your lap. You realized you hadn’t touched yourself yet, not that this was the time to start.
One by one, those freakishly long fingers curled around the small of your waist and lifted you off the bed. The tops of your feet were sliding across the dark maroon blankets beneath you both.
Your heart was pounding in your ears as he pulled you against him. He positioned you above his renewed erection, your legs opening a little in instinct.
Grateful now to be turned around, you let your face run the full range of feelings as they washed over you. Fear, arousal, anticipation.
“What a wasteful man.” He brought you down with a painfully slow speed, head just now meeting your sticky wet hole. “He never flooded your soft cunt?” He pressed in a little easier this time, but as you sank to take him all in you felt a sting where you’d slightly torn earlier. “When he dies, I’ll be sure to find him.” Cruel. “And make him watch me breed you.” You clenched, yet another betrayal by your body.
You were reduced to gasps as he stayed stock still and moved you on and off his cock. “Am I bigger than he is?” You could feel his breath against your back as you were lifted and brought back down again slowly.
You nodded. A terrible liar, you didn’t even try to fib.
He stopped with his head barely in you.
A squirm.
“I’m sure I just didn’t hear you. Try again.”
“Yes.” You were full again as he got his answer. A creaking sound you didn’t recognize startled you.
“Do I fuck you better than him?”
Ah you understood. Your hands held at his fingers digging into your body. “Yes.” Another creaking sound as he quickened your rise and fall.
Alastor’s antlers were wide and multi-pronged as your affirmations jostled around behind his eyes. Your ‘yes’ somehow made you tighter, wetter, hotter around him. His hips started moving again to meet yours. Perhaps he his dick grown a little during his shift to a more demonic form, or maybe you enjoyed the line of questions. All he knew was you were squeezing him like your body didn’t want him to ever pull out again.
Blood dripped from his lips as he cut his own skin, through gritted teeth a final question, “Do you want my fawns?”
Your legs pressed together, you knew there was only one answer and yet you asked yourself. Did you want that? To carry his children? A moan cut through your thinking, “Yes!”
The fire roared, a response to his own reaction.
Alastor felt his mind slip under again, noticing the wild way his shadow was dancing around the walls before his senses all dulled except touch.
The bed drifted away from under his knees and the walls melted like spent candles. Just sounds echoing off space as your moans deepened. As if learning, you began to whisper ‘yes’ to yourself as you felt a building pressure in your stomach.
Every thrust into you further separated your brain from your body. Your eyes lost focus as you watched the door bounce. No, wait, you were bouncing, right? Bouncing up and down the stiff rail of Alastor’s arousal. Your head fell forward, gasping as you felt him harden further while buried deep in you. He was going to cum again, you could feel it, you would feel it. The thought made your body shake as a pressure grew steadily in you.
Not a new sensation, but a different one.
“Louder,” another thinly veiled demand from Alastor that seemed to come from somewhere else entirely. Your eyes noticed a small light on the floor near the wall. A radio, buzzing with the same crackle as his voice.
“Yes,” you ground out, his hands were slippery with sweat as his nails dug in to ensure he didn’t lose his grip on you. “Yes, yes, yes.” He brought you down entirely and only let you off a little, an unspoken fear he would release too close to your entrance and he’d lose precious seed he needed your body to receive. “Yes! Alastor!” You weren’t sure who was talking now, as it surely couldn’t be you. You’d never —
“You’re better than him. You’re bigger and stronger and and he never —- he could never…”
He was suddenly regretting the position, unable to watch you fall apart as he so lovingly spread you open.
With a shriek, your back crashed into his chest as Alastor fell backward into his pillows. He didn’t miss a beat. He continued fucking up into you but let one hand reach your clit. When you whined, he breathed into your hair, “I need you to orgasm.” Other hand pressing down on your womb, “Many cultures believed a woman couldn’t get pregnant without finding her release first. Surely it’ll take. Cum for me my doe.”
You shook your head, “Alastor that isn’t possible.” Not that you were arguing against the way his finger was rubbing up and down on your swollen clit, you just felt the need to remind him of the obvious. Your eyes wandered up and back to see the hauntingly wide antlers now. His transformed face barely visible in the shadows.
“I thought you were a good girl.” His mouth kissed at the base of your ears, hand over your womb pressing in and exaggerating the feeling of his cock bulging from under your skin. “Darling,” he groaned, “Are you ready for my knot?”
You moaned at the words. No, of course not.
“Yes,” you got quiet, embarrassed again. Your hand snaked up and behind to hold his shoulder for stability.
“Relax,” he hissed, feeling your body tensing in anticipation.
You tried your best, but between his strumming finger and the sting still at your entrance you struggled to let things go limp.
This time you felt it growing beneath you. Alastor was ready as well, pushing it in before it was swollen so large he’d have to force it or just suffer with it outside.
Lubricated with the multiple loads already fucked into and then out of you, the knot pushed past your entrance with ease. But then you felt it expanding in you. Eyes crossing as they rolled back with the foreign sensation. It didn’t hurt, but a little alarm was going off in the back of your brain. How could something natural feel so unnatural? And how—
Your body locked up, muscles from thighs to neck tight. Alastor’s finger hadn’t stopped, and as the second knotted release flooded you with his feverish need, as his knot trapped every drop and forced it up past your cervix you tripped into your first orgasm. Different from your own hand and toys, the build up hadn’t been a slow ratcheting climb. No, you were rolling through waves of nearly pained pleasure. The spasming forced your body to feel him even more, pulling him deeper, triggering another wave to crash into you.
Alastor wanted to praise you, a rush of hormones and ego expanding his chest but the sensations had him so overwhelmed he was manually breathing. His hand didn’t want to stop, because then the way your pussy was positively sucking him in would also end. But your little cries and moans got increasingly choked and strained.
The calm briefly offered by knotting a mate during his rut came to your rescue, Alastor dragging a still barely moving finger up your body and going slack into the pillows.
Deep breaths, both of you fighting to slow them down. Alastor was experiencing another moment of clarity, only slightly upset he had doled out so much tenderness.
But for you, there was no deep fog of a heat to numb the sensations and let the more bothersome bits of consciousness turn off. Your mind was just as clear as normal. A little lusty, but nowhere near Alastor’s altered state. As you laid against his chest, waiting for him to be able to pull out, you could feel the pains and aches setting in.
Alastor summoned a minion, food set down on his desk under a silver cloche. Your eyes caught the black and white creature before it was whisked away.
Sitting up, you flinched but fought against the pain, “Alastor. What was that?”
His hands pulled you back down by the shoulders, skin on skin, “My minion. One of many.”
Exhausted, you could only sigh, “So, the errand.”
His hands went up defensively, “Oh come now, did you really think I was the good guy?” You didn’t reply. The silence began to bother him. Odd, given he usually didn’t give a fuck.
But he’d asked a lot of you, and you agreed willingly. You did as you were told. A little twinge of concern he had actually upset you wiggled between his ribs.
His hands slipped down your waist and settled over your stomach, “…Are you hungry? If you stay like this, I can help you eat.” You took a deep breath in, but didn’t even move to look at him. He squirmed ever so slightly, “I can only assume you’re… quite sore. Perhaps a bath? But I can’t guarantee we’ll make it out much cleaner than we are now.” His smile was smaller, just lips; no teeth. As his antlers withdrew and his limbs all returned to their proper places he could turn his head enough to look at your face.
Alastor felt relief wash over him to see you deeply asleep in his arms. It wasn’t a bad idea, to sleep before the next spell hit him and he was too far gone to think about baths or meals.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Alastor awoke in the dark. He found his hands and ankles tied behind his back, his body naked and sweating. He was on fire, pieces of himself lifting in the hot breeze and blowing away. He could feel his body fragmenting. You were just a little ways away and he tried desperately to reach out to you but as his eyes adjusted you were suddenly too far. If he could just get you to take a single piece of him, a shard of himself, he would live still. Even when the rest of him was dead and gone, he’d be alive in your hands. A raging stress, the fire now reaching his bones. It wasn’t too late. He still had time. Just a sliver of his existence was all he needed to get to you.
When you woke up, your body was at the foot of the bed. Looking over you saw Alastor lazily stroking his painfully hard erection. His gaze downcast, vision cloudy with unmet needs.
“Alastor?” With shaky arms you lifted yourself. You were hot. Was it the fire? No, before it had no heat. A little damp outline into the comforter formed where your body had been.
“You’re awake.” He reached over and grabbed your ankle, pulling you towards him and rolling you onto your back. Hand still around your ankle, he pulled your leg against his chest.
“Alastor.”
He sunk into you without hesitation, hips rolling into you roughly. Your body was rocking against the bed, wood creaking against wood with the steady force of his thrusts.
It felt good. Better than before, your walls felt soft and puffy around him. Alastor’s head was low, groaning every time he bottomed out. You could see just enough past him to watch the bed canopy swaying above you both before he folded you in half and leaned fully over you.
His eyes were unfocused like his mind, staring into the bed. A large palm at either side of your head, his back curved as he angled his hips to reach deeper yet.
“I’m so hot.” You were struggling to get the words out. It felt so good, the deeper in you he reached the more you seemed to be melting away.
Your hips were lifted off the mattress, held up entirely by his cock as he continued to rut into you. He could feel the fever in you rising.
Bent and tangled together, his head was nearly above yours. He was sweating, hair stuck down and ears folded back. A bead fell from his cheek and hit your forehead. He was working so hard. Such a strong man. A strong buck.
Something in you snapped. Something twisted and burned in your belly. You brought the other leg up to let yourself be folded in half completely, and his eyes wandered to your face. Your frontal cortex was just static as the lights were shutting off in most parts of your more human faculties.
Everything got quiet in you, a deep seated feeling of security creeping up your legs and sinking into your bones. With Alastor in you, nothing bad could happen to you. If you were carrying his offspring you’d be guaranteed a new level of protection. You needed it. You wouldn’t survive if you weren’t fucked and bred by the overlord.
How could your body be wrong when the feeling was so natural? So intensely confident?
“Alastor!” Your nails dug into biceps, hands clamoring up his arms to cling onto him, “breed me, please.”
He was caught alight, mind on ablaze with his raging fever. Your plea was a magnifying glass concentrating the sun into him and sparking a wildlife. Alastor was defenseless against the way your words affected him.
He could feel it, he could smell it, your heat triggered finally. His lips caught yours as his hands slipped up the blanket with how he had to contort to reach your mouth. You moaned into him, teeth on teeth as neither of you had any ability to finesse things.
“On your knees,” he instructed. You scrambled to turn around as he briefly left your body. A desperate whine in the seconds that stretched on, the emptiness unbearable. It hurt to have him anywhere but balls deep in you.
His hands slipped around your tail that still tried to swish side to side. When he tugged you gasped, the closest sensation you had was having your hair pulled. Chills ran up your spine. You nearly fell forward, but a strong hand wrapped around your neck and pulled your head back. He lined up, adjusting his legs wider to get down to your level.
“Are you feeling it?” He nipped at your shoulder, “Your heat?”
You pushed your ass back and pressed his tip into you. The sound that tore through your chest was answer enough for him as you tried your best to move along his length all on your own.
“You’re okay,” he squeezed lightly around your neck, pussy twitching around him as lightning snapped through you. “I’ll take care of you.”
Words that made your head spin. His body on yours felt like security. Everywhere his skin touched yours was a gulp of cold water in a drought.
A cliche, as he began to move again and his cock hit your g-spot every couple thrusts, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. His fever was matched to yours, no heat exchanged as warm and wet flesh moved around warm and wet flesh. Was that your hand or his on your stomach? Both were searing, both soft and slick. One of your hands was reaching down to hold his arm for support.
Eyes slipping shut, you imagined this was what being high felt like. You were out of your body entirely, feeling his dick slipping in and out of you from a different plane of existence. There was a sense your mouth was moving but no awareness of what you were saying. Truly just babbling as Alastor’s speed hitched. A clawed hand on your hip cut into you as he pressed deeper with every thrust.
He guided you down onto your stomach, hand now resting on your right shoulder to keep you in place. You were entirely flat, his knees parting your legs so he could get flush against your core.
His knot was in place as he began to swell. You felt it again, him flooding your womb as he released directly into your twitching cervix. A euphoria filled you so totally you were sure you could feel the cells of your body humming.
Like a cool breeze had blown down, your fevers broke nearly immediately.
“Oh,” you squeaked, Alastor’s hand releasing you as he lied on top of you. The weight of him was oddly arousing as it gave a clear comparison of your smaller size. “I think you’re right. Estrus.”
He nodded, rolling you both onto your sides, “Would you like the good news or bad news first?”
Resting your head on his extended arm, you tried getting comfortable despite the sticky feeling of your skin and the burning in your thighs, “bad news.”
“You won’t be walking straight for days.” He said it with a heavy tone of pride.
“Oh geez…,” you could feel his knot still throbbing between your hips, “The good news?”
“Your heat is going to make me even more desperate to fill you,” his free hand ran down your sides and slipped between your legs to feel where you two were connected.
You turned your head the best you could, “That’s not good news, Alastor!”
He laughed, “I lied. Oh well!”
While the good news had been a lie, the way your body’s shift into meeting Alastor’s instincts upped his feral responses was not. You nibbled on fruit and bread and cured meats in the small windows the clouds around your humanity parted.
But when they’d roll back in, a tempest of feral wants crashing into you both, you’d find yourself clinging to the deer demon.
You could have had an apple in one hand and be mid bite when his musk would reach you and your grip would loosen. With just a moan and a lifting of your hips Alastor would be dragging you closer, crawling over your body, mounting you wherever you two happened to be.
It wasn’t that you’d become confident by the end of the day, but that you’d lost all semblance of shame and embarrassment.
When Alastor pulled you onto his lap and placed your hands on his peach fuzz covered antlers, you didn’t need verbal instructions. It took all of your arm span to reach them, so you held tightly as he thrust up into you. None of his noises had been as intoxicating as the ones he made when you were leaning over him and squeezing his prongs with every jostle of your womb. Perhaps he’d lost his shame too, loud and long moans the other residents had to have heard spilling from his open mouth.
The wet slap of your ass coming back down onto his thighs as he bounced you was barely registered. Head hung low to meet his black engulfed eyes, you didn’t notice his smile was gone for the first time since you’d met him. Pinhole red pupils were locked on your face and imperceptibly roamed around your lust filled expression.
One hand reached up and rubbed the soft skin of your downturn rabbit’s ears between his thumb and index finger. Soft. Velvet.
A sensation that was wholly pleasant, not sexual in any nature but feeding the comfort provided by Alastor’s cock buried to the hilt. He wanted to enjoy the smile it gave you but he could feel his orgasm climbing exponentially.
There it was again, the darkness of your combined heat and rut slinking in. Body to body, your own sounds harmonizing with his and losing distinction. “Alastor–,” eyes drifting shut, “Please. I feel empty.” His previous loads dripping down your thighs, then down his own, and soaking into the carpet. “Fill me up. Please, can you breed me?”
His hand pulled down on your ear, “That was never in question.”
You let go of his extended prongs, arching your back to take a kiss. More. His tongue in your mouth, another hole full of Alastor. His hands both reunited on your ass and used the flesh there like handles. He fucked up into you, withholding the growing at his base, until he felt you cumming around him again. As your body sucked him in with rolling spasms, he pressed you down on his upthrust. A pained moan as it was pushed in a little late.
Lightning behind your eyelids, your mouths hanging open and pressed together.
Both of you a pile on the floor, a cold blue flame and soft music playing from the still broken radio. Uncharacteristically, Alastor’s arms wrapped around your smaller form and clung to you. The sensations were popping up one by one. Sticky skin, sweat rolling down your face, hair sticking to your neck and forehead. You’d have to peel each other apart. Which you did, eventually. When Alastor could pull out, he followed through on the bath he’d been thinking about.
You protested, reminding him you’d be soaking the floor with displaced bath water as soon as the next urge to mate came around. But he laughed, smile back in place as if it had never left, “Sweetheart if I do my job right you won’t even realize you’re not in bed until you’re knotted and knocked up.”
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
He hadn’t been lying about the protective second day. But what he hadn’t anticipated was just how long that aggressive desire to keep others at a distance from you would last. While your deal had been in place for a little while before his rut, it wasn’t until after your time together in his room that it seemed to ever be used.
But you didn’t need to call out for him, like he had said. No, anytime someone even looked at you with a nasty thought, you were graced with his presence. Most people figured it out quickly enough, but occasionally new and brave idiots would approach you with trouble.
So when a tall and imposing creature cornered you in a shop, hand holding something sharp and shiny and asked, “Scared, little hare?", you could only smile as your face was lit up by a green glow and offer a little advice, “No, but you should be.”
deleted scene ˗ˏˋ Masterlist ˎˊ˗
˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖
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Wardrobe Malfunction
summary: you’ve worn the wrong clothes to school today, but Eddie is there to rescue you w/c: 695 warnings: swearing, use of pet names (sweetheart) a/n: I just needed this to exit my brain honestly. I saw this post and then @kokoshka67 said something about it and yeah
You were panicking. You hadn’t expected to have to be in the lab today, the teacher had told the entire class it would be further down the line and yet when you’d walked into class this morning Mrs Campbell had announced you’d all be working ahead of schedule.
Which is why you were currently in the faculty bathroom trying to reach your mom who wasn’t answering her cell. You just needed someone to bring you a pair of pants so you could actually participate in class and not just fail outright because today of all days you chose to wear a skirt.
“Fuck fuck fuck” you paced the bathroom and chewed on the nail of your thumb, “what am I gonna do?”
“Not to eavesdrop or anything but I might have a solution” a boys voice called from one of the stalls. You hadn’t even known anyone else was in the bathroom, Mrs Campbell had given you special permission to use the bathroom to try and call your mom.
As the door opened and Eddie Munson walked out you stopped chewing on your thumbnail for a moment to answer him,
“What do you mean?”
“Well. The way I see it you need pants, I happen to be wearing a pair today”
“I don’t get it. Are you telling me you’re gonna give me your pants?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Well more of a trade really”
“A trade?” you quirked an eyebrow at the strange look on Eddie’s face,
“Sure sweetheart. I’ll let you wear my pants for lab and you can give me your skirt for English and we’ll swap back after. If you want”
You could only imagine the look on your face to be some sort of comical shock by the way Eddie laughed,
“Why would you help me? You don’t even know me!”
“Call it my good deed for the month” Eddie laughed, “so what do you say? Wanna trade?”
“You’re crazy Munson” you laughed, Eddie already reaching for the zipper on his jeans, “alright, let’s trade”
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
What you hadn’t expected after your impromptu bathroom swap was Eddie Munson confidently strutting down the hallways of Hawkins High in your skirt drawing all the attention away from your ill fitting jeans.
If anyone was curious about where you’d squired the new bottom half of your clothing they didn’t say anything. Or rather Mrs Campbell didn’t give them time to.
After class it did occur to you that you didn’t know where Eddie’s English class was so you could swap back, you were grateful for the jeans but you did want your skirt back since it actually fit you properly.
You asked around and found Eddie outside the school on an old bench behind the football field,
“You know I think I might have to get a few of these” Eddie said instead of hello, “I feel so mobile” he demonstrated his new found mobility with an imitation of a cheerleading high kick which made you laugh loudly when he lost his balance and fell onto the grass below,
“Might be a little advanced for you” you said in between laughing, “maybe you should give me the skirt back”
“What if I wanna trade something again?” Eddie said with a smirk, “what then?”
“What else do you want to trade?” you asked, “notes in class?”
“How about a date?”
“A date?”
“Yeah. You can pick what you wanna trade it for”
You couldn’t help but laugh again. Eddie seemed so earnest,
“Alright, I'll trade for a date. How about my number?”
“Seems like a fair trade to me sweetheart”
“I still want my skirt back” you told him as you input your number into his phone,
“I don’t know. Seeing you in my clothes is really doing it for me” Eddie whispered in your ear making the hair on the back of your neck stand up, “but I’m a gentleman, gotta get that date first” he said stepping away and holding up his hands
“Dork” you laughed again. You hadn’t anticipated this is how your day would turn out but you were happier than ever you’d chosen to wear a skirt that morning.
Taglist: @pillow-titties @munsonology @thegirlblogstuff @boomhauer @prettyboyeddiemunson @hellfireeddie6 @that-lame-ghoul9000 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @anxiousstark @ruinedbythehobbit @winnifredburkleismyhero @manda-panda-monium @insertcoolnameherethanks @aftermidnightwriting @mcbeanzontoast @tiannamortis
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fluff#stranger things#stranger things x reader#stranger things x fem!reader#stranger things fluff#modern au#no upside down au#duchess.txt#duchess writes
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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: Skepsis_Ree! @skepsiss has 16 fics in the Stranger Things fandom on AO3 and 15 of them are in the Steddie tag!
Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @skepsiss:
The Last Strange Thing
It's Snowing In Hawkins
Long Road Ahead
House to ourselves
Modern Problems, Modern Solutions
"Bailey's fics are phenomenal and they don't get enough love!" -- Anonymous
Below the cut, @skepsiss answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!
Why do you write Steddie?
a) Why does anyone latch onto any pairing? Something about Steve and Eddie grabbed my attention like no other ship has in years. I’ve always liked Stranger Things, but I never shipped anything from it until season 4 and until I saw the on-screen dynamic of Steve and Eddie. It felt so fun, and I just constantly saw Steddie art popping up on my dash, so I was looking more and more at it until I just said OKAY, I’M GOING ALL IN and started writing private fan fictions for just one of my friends who encouraged me to post them. b)Why do I still write Steddie? Probably because of my pals Eddy and Jess who talk to me about the lads day in and day out <3
What’s your favorite trope to READ?
I’m really bad at reading fan fics, to be honest, and I don’t actually enjoy reading tropes. The closest thing to a trope I like to read is probably just “they’re in love” or “they will fall in love.” I like good stories, regardless of the setting or the trope.
What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?
Does angst count? I pretty much just write angst! I love drama, angst, and exploring miscommunication! Supernatural elements are also super fun, and of course, I love horror, but those things feel more like genre rather than tropes. But I am also a sucker for a happy ending, so you can sort of expect that from me.
What’s your favorite Steddie fic?
My fav fic is “No Regrets” by @/strangersteddierthings I loved it so much that I made a graphic for it, and Jess uses it as a banner for the fic now!
Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?
I try to avoid tropes in my writing, (unless you count drama and angst, lol), so I’m not really sure how to answer this. I’ve never written a classic “there is only one bed” or “coffee shop au” or ANYTHING like that, so maybe I should try and do an actual, classic trope. I don’t think I’ve ever, EVER written a REAL trope before, tbh. I’m actually really curious what people would suggest for me to write, if anyone has a suggestion, I’m all ears!
What is your writing process like?
If I’m looking for a story idea, I usually play the “3-word game” to generate an idea. It works like this: I ask someone to give me 1 word that is a Person (priest, character from a show, sister, etc), a Place (NYC, a house, tombstone, etc), and an Object (pen, houseplant, knife, etc) and then I try and connect those 3 things. That usually helps me generate an idea and develop an interesting story. My other method is… I have wild dreams and wake up with a fully-formed scene in my brain, and I deconstruct that scene in order to find out how I can create a story to get to that point. I also write super fast, so I try and get the idea down on paper asap, or I’ll lose interest and never write it. If I’m writing for a Big Bang or something, I have usually finished writing that fic like… months before I need to post it.
Do you have any writing quirks?
A say “though” a lot, start sentences with “so,” and say “a bit” or “a little bit” in my writing a lot. An example would be “He wasn’t alive though, he didn’t ‘have a life’ to speak of, so this was what exactly?”
Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?
As soon as I finish!!!! I have a hard time holding back….
Which fic are you most proud of?
That I have posted? Probably “The Last Strange Thing.” It is my longest one. But I have one that I will be posting soon that I am very proud of that I have been working on for a while called “Senior Year” which I’ve been writing on and off since November 2022. I finally buckled down and finished writing it for the Steddie Big Bang and I’ll be posting it this year!
How did you get the idea for The Last Strange Thing?
“The Last Strange Thing” was written for a Reverse Big Bang in collaboration with @/llamalpaca. They created an amazing art piece of Steve and Robin in apocalypse gear, and it got the wheels turning in my brain about an apocalypse AU which reminded me of a conversation I had with a pal about “The Last of Us.” It inspired a whole tale in my brain about Steve and all of the “Stranger Things” party existing in a “The Last of Us” world, so I mashed them together and started writing a story.
When writing The Last Strange Thing, what was something you didn’t expect?
I plan out my stories pretty thoroughly, but something I feel is a very “weak point” in my writing is “action scenes,” so I really surprised myself by even ATTEMPTING to tackle something like “The Last Strange Thing,” which has so much action in it. At first, I sort of assumed I would avoid action as much as possible and make the story about the journey, but as I plotted things out, I just kept making plot points that involved more and more action so when I sat down to write it… I was really surprised that everything flowed together so well and the action felt really natural. Lots of people even complimented my action writing, which felt amazing, cause I’ve always felt it was a weakness!
What inspired It's Snowing In Hawkins?
“It’s Snowing In Hawkins” was a request for a mini-Steddie Winter Exchange where a secret exchanger submitted three requests/tropes/inspirations, and you got to choose from them. One of them involved a snowman-building contest, and Eddie “schooling the younger members of the party.” Another part of the request was that they DID NOT WANT ANY ANGST, so that was a big challenge for me! So it was all fluff, and I thought giving Eddie a slightly ADHD-sideways assignment from “snowman” felt fitting for him. Thus, snow-dome and Steve and Eddie getting some private time in the snow together. That, and at that point, I had never written “virgin Eddie” before, so I thought it would be super cute to explore.
What was your favorite part to write from House to ourselves?
Oh geez, this one is almost PWP, but I think probably just the adult-domestic side of it. Just two dads… getting to be dads. Their young kids are away for the weekend, and they get to take a nap together? There is something so… luxurious about that as an adult (I don’t have kids, but working full-time doesn’t give you enough time for naps either) that feels so nice and REAL about that, haha.
How do/did you feel writing Modern Problems, Modern Solutions?
I really wanted to channel shitty-teen energy. This was the most TEENAGE ANGST AND TEEN DRAMA story I’ve written. Everyone in the story is properly a teen in this, and I dug deep to remember what it felt like to be a teenager again. So I guess what I was feeling was… teen spirit.
What was the most difficult part of writing Long Road Ahead?
This is a really emotional fic, actually. Probably the hardest chapters to write were chapters 2 and 3 where we see the intense yearning between Eddie and Steve and how both of them truly believe that nothing would work between them—Eddie because he thinks Steve doesn’t like him, and with Steve, it is because he is terrified about being queer. I think the toughest thing about writing this was challenging Steve’s intense internal homophobia. That’s something that isn’t explored a lot in fic, and it does not feel good, so I get it, but I think it’s realistic for the 80s. Steve being really scared about his own feelings would be something a lot of boys would struggle with in that era, especially as a handsome, sporty guy who really thinks he is straight up until that point where he falls HARD for his guy friends uncontrollably. It’s difficult to write characters who have polar opposite opinions compared to yourself, but I find it really interesting, and it makes it really fun to write them GROWING OUT of that mindset.
Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?
I don’t think I can pick a line because it has been too long since I have written any of those fics, but scene-wise, I think one of my favourite scenes is from one of my stories called “Tooth and Nail” where EDDIE is the one struggle with the idea of being queer and Steve is the one who has “come out” first. Anyway, Eddie is sitting on one side of a door, and he has no idea if Steve is listening to him or not, but he is confessing all of his feeling of “I messed up, and I don’t know how I feel, but I know I messed up and I’m sorry.” Also later, he cries about it to Steve and gets so embarrassed he pulls his shirt over his head to hide the fact that he is crying, and I still think that is adorable. I really like both of those scenes.
Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?
a) If you haven’t read “Tooth and Nail” you should, it’s older but up on my Tumblr. b) New project wise though!!!! I HAVE THREE NEW ONES! c) “Batter Up” just dropped on June 16th and is a 14,000 word fluff fic for the Steddie Summer Exchange. It’s about Baseball!Player Steve and Rockstar!Eddie meeting and falling in love. d) “Momento Mori” is my Wayne & Steve (with Steddie of course) fic for the Stranger Things Big Bang that will be posting in July, so keep an eye on my Tumblr and/or my Ao3. My artist @/the-aphelion-archives has some really cool art being cooked up, so stay tuned for that! e) And last but not least, my Steddie piece “Senior Year” will be posted for the Steddie Big Bang at the end of this summer/early fall during the bang with art made by @/metalfreaks86! This is my 50k fic that spans from just after Season 2 to after Season 4, and involves a lot of heartbreak, and first loves. Keep an eye on my Tumblr and Ao3 for that one too because we do not yet have a release date.
Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?
Thank you to whoever nominated me! I often feel like my fics aren’t for everyone because I tend to write for a more serious audience and tackle tougher topics and that just isn’t an overly popular medium in fan fiction––which is fine! Because fan fiction is escapism and I know people use it to feel good, and sometimes you don’t want to read sad stuff. So, I really appreciate people who take the time to read my sad stuff (that ends happily every time, cause I also like happy things haha), and enjoy my hard work. Genuinely, every time I feel like throwing in the towel because I think I’m writing into the void, some little kudo-kween pops up and reminds me that my writing is appreciated. Thanks gang <3 Also!!!! I am ALWAYS accepting requests. Anyone and EVERYONE (anon or not) is welcome to pop into my inbox on Tumblr at ANY TIME to make a Steddie fic request, be that a trope, a tiny Steddie idea or whatever. And if you’ve made a request and I’ve forgotten… please ask again!
Thank you to our author, @skepsiss, and our anonymous nominator! See more of Skepsis_Ree's works featured on our page throughout the day!
Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!
#writer's spotlight#writer's wednesday#steddie#steddie fic recs#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#stranger things
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Lucifer’s Nightmares
Content Warnings: swearing, main game spoilers, crackhead writing because I am still in a silly goofy mood
Requests Open!
TLDR: Lucifer has emotions and also has 0 coping skills, but that’s okay because he got those sweet sweet musical jams...oh and like a partner too or something
Lucifer would rather die than admit he has nightmares practically every night
Like fuck dude
He has that deep rooted guilt based trauma.
Nightmares about bad things happening to you, happening to his brothers, nightmares about Lilith, the war, Michael...father...all of these things mixed together and happening in one tornado of horrible events...
Not only that but his dreams are just so
Vivid
Every time he closes his eyes it all just feels
Real
No one would ever guess that sometimes even the calm and prideful Lucifer wakes up gasping for air, tears in the corners of his eyes
So how does he cope?
Well
He came up with the best solution ever
NEVER SLEEP AGAIN!!!! :D
and then you came
and at first you like had your own room
and didnt live in his room
because you know
you had one
BUT THEN FOR SOME REASON YOU WENT NAHHHH
Your room? Yeah thats mine now
and like what was he gonna say??
No??
He would never say that shit
Especially when you are paying rent in kisses
so like you kind of moved in
But like only kind of because you still wanted your room too and like didnt want anyone else to have it
So you actually have like 13 rooms now
thats beside the point you house thief
(breaking and entering to the next level, you could probably evict the brothers and win smh)
So you started sleeping in his room
and you noticed he MAYBE just didnt sleep like
Ever
so you went oh yeah i can fix this
and started DRAGGING HIM LIKE A FUCKING RODENT
ALL THE WAY TO HIS BED
YOU TUCKED HIM IN LIKE HE WAS BEING RESTRAINED WITH A STRAIGHTJACKET
which on an unrelated note would honestly probably do that poor man some good, he needs a vacation to grippyville, they all do
I digress
after centuries of having quite possibly the worst sleep schedule known to man, both to avoid having nightmares and to get his piles of work done
Having to actually just
Lay there
at like
11pm
Was merely just so flabbergasting that he spent like two weeks STILL NOT SLEEPING just to comprehend that he was SUPPOSED to be sleeping
You were bashing your head against the wall
Crying, sobbing, throwing up
take that as seriously as you want
regardless after a while he finally started falling asleep with you!
Why? well he loves you
unfortunately for him
(also you may or may not have been on top of him because he lays there like a fucking ROCK)
He loves you so much that he made a whole sleep schedule and went
“yeah I can deal with this”
Spoiler alert he couldn’t
But it took about a week of sleeping properly to break him.
and you
because you were thrown
ONLY VAGUELY I SWEAR
HE JUST HAPPENED TO SHOOT UP AND YOU WERE ON TOP OF HIM SO YOU WERE KINDA JUST LAUNCHED ONTO THE FLOOR
Were you a bit frazzled
Maybe
Were you about three seconds from crying, throwing up out of spite, and yelling?
...maybe
But that quickly faded
The demon before you sat with heavy, staggered breaths, his eyes wide and full of tears
part of you was like haha who is this man
but the other part was like oh shit what happened
Because like
YOU HAVE LITERALLY DIED AND THAT MAN HASNT SHED A
S I N G L E
TEAR
so sitting there on the floor watching him try and regain what little composure he had left was a bit startling to say the least
So being the lovely not feral partner you are (for now), you sat next to him on the bed
You rubbed his back and whispered gently into his ear while leaning on his chest
Lucifer was also a bit flabbergasted
Like
Lmao stupid human-
Insert internal sobbing here
Its fine
He held you and pretended nothing happened
Though he knew he definitely wouldn’t be falling asleep again any time soon
Of course you couldn’t just let this slide
You knew Lucifer better than you knew yourself
So
You did the only thing you could think of
You released yourself from his arms, and went to turn on one of his cursed records
“dance with me Luci?”
You whispered
On a normal day he would’ve rolled his eyes at the girlish nickname
But maybe just for today he would let it slide...
and maybe tomorrow too
and maybe the next da-
So he took your hand and twirled you gently
The two of you slowly swaying to the music in the darkness of his room
The twinkling of fireflies outside the window
You couldn’t take away his fears or his worries or the guilt he carried
But you could stand there with him, gently holding his hand and swaying alongside him
A reminder that maybe
Things were beginning to work out
Because if he was there with you
In this moment with you in his arms
In this universe where you loved him and he loved you
A world where you have overcome all odds
Maybe all the heartache was worth it
Maybe every horrible moment and every heart wrenching sadness lead him here
Maybe that was okay...
Because at the end of it all
Was the single greatest happiness in his life
You
And as long as you were beside him
He could handle a few nightmares
“I love you” he whispers in your ear as he spins and twirls you, the moonlight illuminating your face
And for a moment the nightmares were forgotten
Replaced by him imagining a perfect forever alongside his human
#obey me#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me scenarios#obey me lucifer#obey me luci#obey me luci x reader#obey me mc#obey me nightbringer
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Content warning: ADHD medication and medical stuff
A few months ago I started taking Adderall after being diagnosed with ADHD. The results have been kind of mixed. We've adjusted the dose a bit here and there, gone back and forth on the benefits of immediate release vs extended release.
And the whole time I've been getting gradually more uncomfortable with having this...window of usefulness, at most 4-5 hours, of feeling normal and productive and emotionally stable. For less time than a typical shift at work. And then it wears off and I feel irritable and like my tolerance for sensory input is at 0. In fact, I think my sensory sensitivities might actually be considerably fucking worse on stimulants even if my general executive functioning is better. My sensitivity to sound is especially affected.
The answer every time has been to increase the dose...which is an effective solution for only a few weeks at most.
I don't know if this is typical for any other AuDHD folks but it has been my experience. I am also not passing judgment on anyone at all when I say the following: I don't want to have to rely on amphetamines to get shit done and feel (very temporarily) emotionally regulated.
I know that stimulant meds are a life changer for a lot of ADHDers. I just feel like it might not be for me. Not for my brain, not with my health issues, not with my family history of certain conditions.
Which is disappointing, actually. Not the outcome I was hoping for when I set out to be evaluated and diagnosed. I was hoping this would be the missing explanation and the solution basically. I have a better understanding now of my executive functioning issues, but I'm still struggling to deal with them.
Anyway, I'm switching to a non-stimulant medication. And I'm a little nervous about it, as I am with most new meds. I'm just hoping that it helps and that the side effects aren't worse than those I've been dealing with for the past few months.
When I get around to picking the stuff up, probably tomorrow, I'm starting Strattera. I'm already doing the googling (ono) but if anyone who sees this would like to share experiences, I'm all ears.
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DHP!JK
“do you even HEAR yourself right now?!” you yell back at jungkook. “how can you say something like that, jungkook?” talking to jungkook when he’s this angry is like talking to a wall. anything you spew comes in one ear and leaves out the other, or, he simply doesn’t care. ever since the night at the hotel, jungkook has felt self-conscious around you and as much as you try to reassure him that it’s not his fault, the feeling never leaves. her hands on his body, your property, cuts him deep and despite him not being consciously present during the traumatic memory, the feeling never leaves. the marks she left on his body may have faded, but the feeling never leaves. it just can’t leave; it won’t leave until she’s dead.
that’s the only solution he sees.
“I don’t understand why you stopped me she almost died! YN I ALMOST KILLED HER. OH MY GOD YOU SHOULD’VE LET ME DO IT UNTIL she was dead”
“i stopped you from carelessly throwing your life away” you say with your arms folded across your chest. “i’ll abort this baby if you go back to prison, jungkook” suddenly, everything around stops and the only thing you hear is your racing heartbeat. you bite your lip to brace yourself for what jungkook is about to say, surely he wasn’t expecting you to say that.
“i’m not taking our baby to your prison cell everyday of the week, jungkook. i’m not putting our child through that. let me go through that…not them”
~🫧
His whole world stops. Everything just comes to a halt.
i’ll abort this baby if you go back to prison, jungkook i’ll abort this baby if you go back to prison, jungkook i’ll abort this baby if you go back to prison, jungkook i’ll abort this baby if you go back to prison, jungkook i’ll abort this baby if you go back to prison, jungkook i’ll abort this baby if you go back to prison, jungkook—
He lets out a blood curling scream
You are taken aback but he keeps on screaming at the top of his lungs. How can you even say that? Do you want to die? Or do you want him to die?
Jungkook screams as he screams, at the top of his lungs, clenching his fist because you have made him very angry, but he doesn’t want to hurt you.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY OH MY FUCKING GOD.”
Strings of curses leave his mouth and he’s glaring at you feeling even hotter than before
You are threatening to take away his angel.
He won’t let you. “YN DON’T BE FUCKING STUPID. DON’T MAKE ME FUCKING ANGRY. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? ARE YOU FUCKING TWISTED? YOU ARE FUCKING TWISTED.” oh.
Why would you ever say something like that? He’s so angry right now and it’s all your fault.
He doesn’t know what he will do if you abort this baby and he will actually go insane if you take it away from him forever
“YOU Have no right to take it away from me. I am actually going to do something really bad if you even think about it and then you will be responsible for the consequences of your own actions.”
Jungkook gets up before he’s holding you so tightly.
“DO. NOT Think about it. I am actually going to do something really bad to you if you even consider this idea. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I AM CAPABLE OF DOING TO YOU.. YOU NEED TO STOP TESTING MY PATIENCE.”
His eyes burn into yours and you know better than anyone to not test him.
“You don’t want to feel my fucking hatred yn. You’re not strong for that, trust me but guess what? I won’t fucking stop tormenting you until you’re ruined.”
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bird primary + slightly burnt snake secondary (bird model) (burnt-out badger model)
I don't know if this is the correct place to ask this, oh well :). I recently found the SHC community and fell in love with your analysis. (Disclaimer that I may have misinterpreted some of the traits, again, very new at this.)
I am hoping you can help me sort out my secondary. My primary is very obviously a bird, no problem. I mean, I exibit certain chararistics of the others at certain times, such as strongly valuing personal loyalty and such, but I think complexity is just part of being a human and I fit really neatly into almost all of the bird stuff I've read.
and I mean... "strongly valuing personal loyalty" can just, very easily, be something that you fold into your Bird System.
But my secondary is really giving me trouble. But I keep flipping between snake with badger model or burnt badger with snake model. (With others thrown in for flavor!)
For context, I was raised in VERY emphasized badger home. And like, mostly, I agree? Hard work, grit, and consistency ARE extremely important, and while those are not the only way to ever accomplish things, they tend to be the most reliable and the most likely to give long term success. They also tend to build long lasting relationships that are supportive and grow with you over time and not just around one time/phase/stage in life. (Not that those aren't important) I want to be like that- be the reliable hard-working one. But I'm not! I am fairly lazy actually, and am constantly searching for a way around projects/problems, very often to my own detriment.
So okay. We've got some negative self-talk here.
I don't like the word "lazy" - mostly because it's just incredibly non-specific. "Lazy" can mean issues with executive functioning, it can mean I don't think xyz is important, so of course I'll cut corners. It can mean you're exhausted. It can mean you're depressed. It can mean 'if I am not working literally all the time, I'm worthless.' It can mean you're having a fun, goof-off day. See what I mean?
So what this does tell me is 1) You've got a strong Badger secondary voice in your ear, saying that This Is How It Has To Be and 2) that kind of chafes. You're about working around things, working smarter not harder, and getting out of/finishing quickly the things you don't want to do. Which is 100% completely fine! All it means is that you're probably not a Badger secondary!
And while I am very good at lying and do it to get myself out of problems semi-regularly, I feel guilty about it after (not usually in the moment) becuase of my moral system (bird primary).
I'm leaning slightly-burnt Snake here. Healthy Snakes don't usually refer to their shape-changing as "lying," so I'm keeping that in mind.
But being so snake/adaptable does have many benefits, especially in talking/working with others, and I value my ability to change to fit each person or situation. I am also often able to find unique solutions to the problems I caused myself by not doing it "right" the first time.
Definitely sounds like an improvisational secondary, and changing for the person (as opposed to changing for the situation) is very Snake.
My father has a job in the local public eye and I grew up learning how to be able to talk to anyone, act interested in anything, and have a different mask for school, vs public, vs with friends, vs just being me at home.
Sounds like you built an Actor Bird secondary model (and some of that is of course you going into Neutral.
And sometimes I feel guilty for "manipulating" people, as my moral system emphasis honesty, but just as often I pride myself on making people feel good becuase I figured out what they needed/wanted and gave it to them while making it seem like it wasn't a calculated read of the situation.
Snake. And a fairly important part of this system is that "manipulating" is a completely neutral problem-solving technique. You can manipulate people to do good, and manipulate people to do bad, just the same as you can use the Badger dependability and ability to fly under the radar to do good things, and bad things.
Overall, I am grateful for my childhood (truly I've got great parents) and I think it's super important to be able to react well to unexpected circumstances, so much so that when I finish college this spring (we'll get to that in a second) I want to go into disaster response and crisis management to help others deal with unforseen circumstances. I've worked as an EMT, and hopefully soon as a 911 dispatcher before going into formal disaster response.
I think that will suit you perfectly and (as I'm sure you probably know) that's something a Badger secondary would not be nearly as good at.
I'm very comfortable using snake methods and it makes me feel clever when I come up with an unexpected solution or pull off a tricky social maneuver-
This is a big sign this is your secondary - using it makes you feel powerful.
I just feel guilty because they hard-core fail me when it comes to big tasks I simply don't want to do- situations where the only solution is to just get it done the hard way, and trust me, I would have looked for any other options.
Yeah, that's issues with executive functioning surrounding non-preferred tasks.
I see this most often in my schoolwork. I'm a double-major senior and I am definitely burnt out from school.
Don't blame you. Sounds like you bootstrapped your way through on the family Badger secondary model, and now you're sick of using it.
I am a "gifted child," and I have always done very well in school. I've never had to work very hard at any subject, and so I never did. I always procrastinated and slid in 2 minutes before a deadline.
Very, very common story. You're using adrenaline to hack your brain to punch through executive functioning issues, we've all done it, we know it's not sustainable. Same with not having to work hard in school - you're brain's going fast, you're making connections, you're using meta-knowledge (you're using your secondary.)
The difference is that in college I started not caring about deadlines, being very late or not turning something in entirely. I got A's and F's, no in between. I am graduating, mostly due to amazing professors.
You were burnt out. This is what burnout sounds like. But you made it through, and honestly people just care if you graduated, or not.
There have been things in my life that I've worked really hard at, such as becoming an emt while in high school or my internship last summer, and I have felt really proud of that. But I don't enjoy the work for its own sake, and there have been just as many things I've cared about that I let be mediocre at best becuase I didn't want to put in the effort.
And that's fine! There are some things you care about (and you're incredibly accomplished) and there are some things you don't, and what's the problem with that?
And, some of the best feedback I recieved from that internship was that I always was working hard- and seemed positive about it. When I told them I have to "work hard to work hard" they were shocked and I felt very happy. For 2 reasons: 1, becuase I did actually put in a lot of work to work hard and it showed me that I can when I truly want to (I was starting to doubt), and 2, that they perceived me like that.
I'm guessing it also felt good because there's a large part of you that sees Badger as "the good one."
There's a slightly annoying thing about being human, that gets into the sunk-cost fallacy and things like that, that things we put a lot of effort into are inherently better, or more valuable. But it's just not true. Often the thing that's so easy it doesn't feel like work, the story or painting that just came together, *is better* than the one you slaved and sweat and bled over.
Also, I've been diagnosed with depression and anxiety, probably stemming back from before high school (it's strongly in family history, inevitable more than circumstancial), so how much of that overshadows my personality?
I mean, I think your personality comes through loud and clear. Just stop describing yourself as "lazy" okay?
To make things more complicated I love learning and picking up random bits of information, and I love trying new things. My nickname was Wikipedia in high school becuase I could always be relied upon to have some cursory knowledge about anything, though not always the helpful knowledge. (Bird vibes) I do that for the fun of it though, and it doesn't tend to be the basis of how I make decisions or react to situations.
We know you built a Bird model, so it's good that you can use it as a toy.
So what is going on here? Am I a burnt out badger who needs to not be in the school system for a while to reset and be able to dedicate myself to the things I love, and who uses snake mechanisms to cover my weak spots becuase I got good at that in childhood
You can burn out models. It's pretty common, and it's the puzzle piece you're missing here. You are a Snake. You model Badger when you have to. But because it IS hard, use it too much and it burns out and starts to hurt to use.
At which point you fall back on your Snake secondary and Actor Bird model. Don't worry. You made it through the tough times, and your new situation seems much better suited to your Snake.
Or am I a snake who strongly values badger traits but needs to figure out how to blend them? (And how do I do that?) And also go back to therapy? What's bird doing in there, anyway? I think I'm leaning option two, but like I said- I'm very flip-floppy about the whole thing.
Thank you so much- sorry it got so long. (Imagine if I were confused about my primary too!)
Hey, therapy is fantastic, but it sounds to me like you're doing pretty okay. :)
thanks @adisgracetotheforcesofevil for the submission
#shc#sortinghatchats#wisteria sorts#sortme#bird snake#snake secondary#bird secondary model#badger secondary model
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hi eps!!!! i am five hours late to the suggestion thing lmao (if you are no longer taking these, absolutely no worries! please feel free to ignore this :) )
how about sponge and plo koon? maybe clone wars era? they both have big parent energy imo lmao
Envious Admiration
Summary: Sponge wishes they had been assigned to the 104th.
[In which I continue to make Sponge's life a cruel tragedy. Especially by presenting them with something they want but can never have. After all, they're too devoted a caretaker to leave the 501st.]
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There's something inherently familial about being one of a few assigned caretakers for a battalion full of rowdy, accident prone men. It's not intrinsically parental (they're all too close to age for that), but there is a sort of older sibling connection at play. Even when you care for vode older than you.
It's no secret that Sponge feels responsible over the men of the 501st. Has always felt responsible over anyone that they had ever had to treat. Be they a tubie they'd been made to hold to both learn how to handle infants (defenseless lap children in the middle warzones was a thought that made their skin crawl and their stomach flip with anxiety) and to provide much needed skin to skin contact, unfortunate cadets going through the roughest patches of their accelerated puberty (and they still remembered how bad Tup and Dogma had smelled, and how ugly their acne riddled faces had looked, and the memory was both nostalgic and painful with one of them gone), or even some idiot ARCs doing what they shouldn't at the wrong place and wrong time (Echo had been just as much of a nuisance as Fives, but he'd at least been a pleasant conversationalist, and how much Sponge missed him sometimes... Especially seeing how erratic his twin could when he felt at a loss for what to do).
Everyone that they'd ever had to care for were their responsibility. One in millions of connections they would hold dear to them, no matter how much they could annoy them at times. How much they stressed and brought them to near tears.
That said, nothing can quite compare for what it's like to be graced with being cared for by a Jedi of general Plo Koon's caliber.
Sponge is not a fan of general Skywalker.
Has never really been fond of the too brash hot-headed Jedi, who's solution to most problems involved waving a laser sword around. Is especially not happy when it comes to how he had taught his Padawan-learner. How he had poisoned her mind with behaviors the medic considered highly appalling. And, as much as it hurt to admit, Sponge was glad she'd been able to escape his influence.
Sponge is not a fan of general Skywalker. But they are a fan of general Koon.
Especially considering the man's proclamations of caring for the clone troopers he presided over actually feel genuine. Genuine and respectful. Unlike certain poster boys with blond captains at their beck and call...
"You mustn't push yourself so hard." The Kel Dor sounds concerned, as he helps them walk across the droid and corpse littered battlefield. Their leg was broken, and there was a gash on their side that was bleeding profusely. But they'd kept going. Kept mending. Kept treating. Until the Jedi had come to their aid. Fearing for their safety when no one else had. "A healer can only heal so much before they too must be tended to..."
"I couldn't sit back and wait, sir." They bow their head respectfully. Their tone softer in reverence they can barely conceal. Envy of the Wolfpack's medics fills their very core. "Not when so many needed me."
"You are a nurturing sort, I see..." And there is fondness in that deep modulated voice. They don't doubt there is fondness in his google-covered eyes as well. "I suspect your shifts must be lively with flighty sorts."
"Too many to count sir." And they can't help grin from ear to ear. The blood loss making them sloppily familiar with the general dragging them away from potential death. "No clone is fond of a doctor's visit, you see..."
They wonder if Jelly would have lived, had they both been assigned to the 104th. Maybe Plo Koon would have cared enough to search for their squadron if they had been. Maybe he would have been able to save Sponge's ori'vod.
Skywalker sure hadn't.
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NSFW ask:
Are mephistopheles and Aranea open to a threesome?? 😊😏/hj
NONNIEEEEEEE
Mephistopheles at the idea of sharing Aranea:
Aranea at the idea of sharing Mephistopheles
(good gods, I didn't realize how unhinged these two are. I adore it. Villain Couple at its finest lolololol)
Like, I am sorry. BUT THAT COULD NOT HAPPEN.
Mephisto would go apeshit at the idea of someone flirting with her.
Can you imagine the whole apocalypse (ok, not truly an apocalypse, this is just an hyperbole that I am using lol) he would cause if someone were to actually HAVE her, giving her pleasure and touching her in places that only HE is allowed to touch?
I mean, if you have read my previous posts about Mephistea, you might remember that Aranea has her heart taken straight out of her chest and frozen after her vengeance, because Halim's death caused her so much pain, she couldn't bear it (gods I need to finish the freaking comics that I have with Raphael fml. it kinda portrays this state and explain a bit more).
Well, Mephistopheles was actually the one that whispered in her ear about this solution, and the one that actually excised the heart from her chest, and is now keeping it in his religuary.
All because HE COULD NOT TOLLERATE that *anyone* could ever possess that heart, not even Aranea's dead husband.
That's the level of possessivity this Archdevil has for Aranea.
And Aranea, while not as explosive as her Lord Husband, she is sure as hell as possesive and territorial as he is, albeit a bit more reasonable. Like, to put in perspective: when it comes to Aranea, Mephistopheles would zap you first and then ask questions; Aranea, instead, would give the possibility to explain oneself, and maybe even give the possibility to defend oneself, but if the person trying to make a pass to Mephisto was serious in their intention and seriously intended to have sex with him (or worse make love, because Aranea does make that distinction), she would go after them with all the powers she has.
I like to imagine that both of them can actually be rational people IN GENERAL, but when it comes to each other and their love, they become the LEAST rational people in the entirety of Baator (and any other Plane of existence, for that reason).
So, I think that a threesome would not be viable in any way, shape or form, unless the person asking for it has a desire to be reduced to cinders.
BUT THANK YOU FOR THE QUESTION, NONNIE! <3
It gave me reason to actually ponder about it! <3
here, please, do have some fresh lemonade and some fresh fruit, as a thank you for this ask! <3
#Nemo babbles#Nonnie#Replies#Mephistopheles#OC:Aranea Baelfaer#Ship:Mephistea#my oc#OC Lore#I always adore answering questions for Mephistea#always feel free to send them in <3#I am always happy to answer them#also forgive me if I write so much about them#I have tons of stuff#but cannot truly infodump#so I do it here :)
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Look I'm autistic and that means that regulating my emotions is hard, which also means that emotions too heavy to handle will get subconsciously suppressed and dissociated from and then I'll cry my eyes out over tiny things because that's a level of upset I can manage that isn't so overwhelming that I hurt myself in my upset (unintentionally).
So when I'm crying over a cartoon of a post-apocalyptic cat wanting to play with her human but her human is dead so she can't play I'm not actually sobbing my eyes out over the comic. I mean I am, but if my reaction seems completely disproportionate it's because it is, because it's not just about the confused kitten. It's about the countless countries where genocide and war is taking place, the stupid high amount of family members I've lost over the past 5 years, the global cost of living crisis that's getting ignored by all of the governments because the richest guys are the richest anyone has ever been in human history so clearly it can't be that bad, right?
It's about being overwhelmed from work, exhausted, disabled, chronically ill and faced with an expensive and pretty close to useless healthcare system that will see a years-old painful lump in the same spot at the top of my neck on the one side, my head tilting to that side subconsciously, frequent ear and sinus infections on that side, and bloody ear wax on that side and prescribe a children's antihistamine and placebo 'anxiety medication'.
It's about the medical field knowing how to successfully transplant an entire penis so it has full function and sensation, but not knowing that endometrial tissue doesn't show up on sonar 90% of the time yet still not only uses sonar imaging exclusively to look for endometriosis, but also fucks up organs around the uterus so bad when removing the uterus because of endometriosis that people get hernias that keep coming back in their large intestine that can and has killed people. And removing the uterus isn't even a good treatment method for endometriosis it can very often still come back.
It's about governments banning men in heavy makeup and wigs reading children's books to children because they're "pedophiles" but actual pedophiles not only walk free, but are celebrated and revered and still allowed access to children and far too much money.
It's about the only apparent solution to all the injustice in the world being full scale revolution, which for all its virtues will always come with the loss of innocent lives. And it's about my own inability to see any other option, nevermind implement it. And my inability to do anything, because I'm paralyzed by the possibilities of the negative impact my actions will have on innocent lives in an attempt to help.
So yeah I spent 25 minutes sobbing over drawings of a cat last night but really I was grieving the world I'd hoped we'd become, and how far we've strayed from that dream.
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I know I said I wouldn’t do any personal posts, but I feel the need to sort of get this off my chest. It’s not bad news per say, but just... something I need to talk about considering all things.
These last few months have been rather hectic for me, especially for my health. After my first time in the ER, I didn’t think it much to actually affect me mentally, but I realized a bit too late after my second visit that the effect it had on me would be real.
I had been unknowingly sabotaging my own health, keeping myself in high glucose ranges that are very bad mind you for my overall physical health. I have been, in stupider terms, not giving myself the right amount of medication to keep myself going and I paid for that with nearly ruining my kidneys.
Even now as I try to fix things up and it has been doing slightly better, I still have the worst sort of reaction when it comes to maintaining myself in range. Ever since my first visit to the ER for hypoglycemia, I’ve been hit with a sudden bout of fright of even remotely coming close to low glucose ranges, even if they are technically in range and normal. I should be fine. I should know that its okay to be in these ranges and not panic, but I don’t.
I get panic attacks. I start shaking and crying, freaking out when it drops lower that I go overboard with trying to fix it, then screwing myself later in putting myself in high levels. I stress so much about this I didn’t realize how badly I was putting myself in this situation and yesterday was one of those moments that legit pushed my panic into a full frenzy. Things fixed themselves thankfully, but again another normal to high situation and I am just... Sitting here sort of cursing myself over how I should have just not done what I did and take it with calmer minds. The problem is... I can’t. My mind and body won’t allow me to.
This whole experience has sort of left me with a sort of PSTD (if I can call it that) and any time I try to explain this to anyone at home, I don’t get much of a listening ear to help me out. And it sort of sucks considering when I am literally in the midst of a panic attack, I get yelled at and told how ridiculous I am acting over this. And I guess I get it. I should literally not be afraid of being in good ranges, but the moment I see myself hitting 100 or lower, I just panic. 100 is good, but any lower I flip because I think I am going to fall lower than that and never come back up like last time. I can’t deal with that. It legit scares me.
Long story short, I’m going to see if any of my doctors can help me out on this better and HOPEFULLY I can figure things out in the long run to better my health mentally and physically. I know it’s sort of ridiculous of me to be saying any of this or acting the way I do, especially putting myself in danger health wise but I just needed to get this off my chest.
I’m definitely going to try to fix things for the better and hopefully, I can find the right solution to all of this.
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May I request doom breaker (anyone of your choosing, especially my husband Ned) b3ing constantly teased by their S/O. Who is teasing them because they know they are busy and can't do anything till they are free
He's such a silly guy! I love him too and am very biased towards him. Also the concept sounds so fun (for the one teasing, the one being teased will have fun later).
Teasing them
Doom breaker headcanons
Feat. Ned, Altair, Fade, Dariel.
Warnings: prob ooc, NSFW implied although nothing too heavy, reader being a bit of a brat tbh.
Author's note: nothing much to say, I just love messing with these guys and how they would react to different situations. And I'll work on Ned's alphabet I promise I'm sorry...
Ned
The gentle and easily flustered man.
He's a very patient person.
He can mistake a few subtle touches for accidents or simple affection, and won't be very bothered by them.
When you kiss his neck it becomes unmistakable though, you're teasing him.
He tries focusing on the task at hand, knowing that he can't just leave everything and take you somewhere private.
When your teasing continues, he starts physically pushing you away. He has restraint, sure, but it would be easier without your hands on him.
He might use the stealth bracelet just to avoid your teasing after a while, especially when he gets a boner and needs to hide it from not only you but anyone who could be around.
His solution to badly timed arousal is basically hiding from you. Which he greatly dislikes.
However he does finish the task quicker.
You're in for a fun time once he's done with his work because he's going to find you with the stealth bracelet still on himself and give you a taste of your own medicine.
Before dragging you to a more reserved place where he can actually give you a taste.
Altair
She's the menace, she does the teasing.
She can sense you're thinking of teasing her from the first touch.
Will she allow it?
Not really.
Since she can tell your intentions even before you actually do anything, she decides to get an early start and be the one to tease you.
Little touches that aren't so subtle, kisses a bit too close to your sensitive spots, even showing her body and moving in a way meant to tease you.
Of course things will end up in bed, but she will give you a run for it.
She still has work to do after all!
She'll purposefully keep herself busy with tasks while teasing you only to make you more impatient.
Will you regret teasing her?
Not really, the princess knows how to reward you after waiting so much for her to finish her tasks.
But might make you wait some more for the final reward... You were so patient until now, what's a few more moments?
Fade
Can't miss teasing the feral cat.
Is it a good idea? Depends on your definition of good idea.
At first he's very straightforward and tells you to "knock it off", even though you think you're being subtle he can tell at the third time you accidentally caress his thigh.
He doesn't like distractions while he's working and won't get particularly aroused by your attempts to tease him.
Unless you whimper in his ear. That gets him really turned on, almost instantly.
His reaction is pulling you on his lap. You caused him a boner, so take the responsibility of hiding it while he works.
You're his prisoner now. He's keeping you there with a hand, while the other writes or works with poisons. You have stuff to do? Should have thought about it before teasing him.
If you try teasing him some more he bites you. Your hands, your lips, your neck. Just chomps whatever he can until he's done with his task.
Gets veeeery sadistic in bed when he has to let out all that pent up energy and arousal you caused him. Expect to be bullied a lot.
Dariel
The little puppy. Our baby boy.
He's pretty calm about your teasing to be honest, if anything he'll calmly scold you for being indecent while he's busy. Very controlled man and even though he might get a bit aroused he won't feel the need to act on it.
Sitting on his lap and wiggling around? He'll keep your hips still with one hand while lecturing you about manners and timing.
Caressing his inner thigh? He just takes your hand, kisses the back of it and asks you to wait.
Kissing his neck? He'll chuckle and tell you that this is not the right time, he's got things to do.
But if you kiss the palm of his hand, for some reason that really gets him. Is it the intimacy of the act? Is it because it's a part of him that is usually holding a weapon, yet you're kissing so gently?
That really gets him and he shows it.
He gets a bit more soft and gentle when asking you to wait until he's done, because he doesn't really want to wait.
Might, and I say might, kiss your face as a way to let out some of his energy.
He slowly goes from the task at hand from finding a private place for some alone time with you.
#doom breaker#doom breaker x reader#ned strier x reader#ned strier#altair justina cayenne#altair justina cayenne x reader#fade#fade x reader#dariel#dariel x reader#Another day of puppyfying Dariel feral cattifying Fade and menacefying Altair#For Ned I don't even know what I'm doing he's just a silly guy and I make him more traumatised probably
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caden!! saw you mentioned both jane bennett and derrida in a recent post — have you read sharon krause’s political respect for nature? it’s kind of a counter to bennett’s vibrant matter, at least in my mind, and it invokes the classic derrida cat anecdote as part of the framing which i find really interesting. personally i think i find her eco arg more convincing than bennett’s new materialist one because i like how krause acknowledges how irrelevant the human value system is outside of humanity (how, like, we can’t possibly judge nature thru human values; it has values of its own we can’t possibly hope to understand) and uses that to argue for policy initiatives that similarly ensure nature’s autonomy whereas bennett’s arg of expanding the human value system to include nature within it (because of the internet ‘vibrance’ and aliveness in everything both humans and nature) is beautiful but imo kind of stops short of respecting matter on its own terms rather than bc of its connection to humanity. rambling but if you’ve read bennett’s vibrant matter and like derrida i def think krause’s political respect for nature is a worthwhile read!!! not like a Solution or perfect or anything but i really like thinking ab the human relationship w nature through the post-levinasian lens she dives into (the imperative that we stop viewing human understanding as a necessary prerequisite for respect being a big part of it). also just curious in general what ur thoughts are on bennett and/or new materialists more broadly? def don’t have to actually give a whole ass response or anything but i saw that post of urs and my ears perked up like a dog’s lmao. some like pavlovian response to political/phil theory sightings in the wild (read: my dash)
hiiiiiii casey! first off, i haven't read any krause—but thank you for the rec, she sounds interesting & i'll try to check her out :-)
re: the new materialists generally: ok, i have a lot of thoughts about them. first of all i am #1 kant hater because i don't go in for idealism OR dualism. so the underlying goal of the new materialists / speculative realists is highly appealing to me. however, (& i think this is sympatico with yr read of krause) i think their projects have a tendency to simultaneously project human values & ethics onto the natural world, & to flatten what i think actually IS an important distinction between human and non-human. i see this in barad, in bennett, in brassier, quite strongly in harman's object-oriented ontology. it's like, (& i'm paraphrasing projit mukharji) we still haven't gotten the hang of granting personhood to all actual humans, and already people are trying to break down the category...?
my fav of the bunch by far is meillassoux (altered my brain chemistry forever when i was 21). i would enthusiastically recommend him to literally anyone, even his weirder stuff (spectral dilemma and such). he's great to think with and i think he does the best job of any of this crowd at articulating the problem with kant and his transcendentalist 'copernican revolution.' however, i also see most clearly in meillassoux the root of the problem with the proffered new materialist solutions, which is that he takes the antinomy between perceived & real (ie, inside & outside) to be a transhistorical, universal condition of sensory experience, rather than a historically specific consequence of, eg, divided / estranged labour. so his solution relies on mathematisation à la badiou, which meillassoux also sees as an ahistorical and apolitical project, and although in 'after finitude' he makes a cursory attempt to link a critique of metaphysics with a critique of political authority, he's unable to develop this any further or with socio-historical specificity.
tl;dr new materialists fun sexy also fundamentally unable to engage with politics or history in a manner i find fruitful or liberatory. again though, really excellent to think with. love to rotate them.
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Backlog Review: Procession to Cavalry
The Procession to Cavalry is another game which is made almost entirely to facilitate a joke or a bit. Thats sorta a theme among the games I've been reviewing here, but that will not last I promise. Say NO! More was built on a bit, Later Alligator was built on a bit, and The Procession to Cavalry is the finale of our joke game trilogy. Not that the games themselves are a "joke" or not worthy of respect or analysis, just that when I think of the game, I think of the joke that the game is telling. Unfortunately, TPtC has my least favorite bit so far. It's a game that sort of tries to exaggerate an idea of a Renaissance era Crusades-y vibe? The games environments and characters are constructed from what I'm going to call "Renaissance paintings" (even if thats not exactly accurate, thats the idea). At one point you can actually view an in world gallery of all of the paintings used to construct the game. The joke isn't necessarily bad, or not funny. The truth is that at about an hour and a half in the bit had kinda run its course with me. This isn't exactly a problem though. I had played Say NO! More through the point that the joke had completed. The main issue I had with this game is that it's closer to the point n click game that I thought Later Alligator would be, and not too long into the game I had hit a puzzle wall. Honestly I could've probably figured it out, but if I'm not playing the game for the joke, and I'm not playing it because the gameplay is fun, then why am I playing? So really what I'm saying here is that I dropped TPtC after I hit that waist high wall. That isn't necessarily a knock on the game or anything, its just a testament to how quickly the joke wore thin with me. Your mileage may vary on that front. If you like the joke enough I could imagine someone playing through whatever kind of puzzle that would be placed in front of them. Same for if you just like the Point n Click style game play. On a positive note though, the visuals of the game are unique and have a lot of character. The way the player character flings their limbs about as they traverse these painted screens is full of whimsy. As someone who has a passing knowledge of some of the paintings they used in the game it was neat to find one and recognize it. My favorite was "Girl with the Pearl Earring" by Johannes Vermeer. It was actually when I realized that the game was constructed from real paintings rather than original pieces created in the style of the time. The music is also perfectly picked for the environment and vibe of the game. At the start of the game there's a band playing "The Stars and Stripes Forever" by John Philip Sousa and juxtaposing that with the image of a war hungry protagonist begging for someone to become a target for their sword while standing in front of a town ravaged by the war was a lovely way to start the game. With that as well, as you progress you can always click on the bands playing on screen to see what songs the creator has decided to put on the moment, which is a feature that I quite like. All in all while I ended up not finishing TPtC I would still recommend it to anyone who enjoys an eccentric or exaggerated sense of humor. I only stopped playing because my brain was too tiny in the moment that I was playing and looking up a solution isn't exactly my style. Thanks for reading :)
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Smidge: 2/19/2024
So we got a counseling appointment Wednesday morning. I'd like to stop dissociating so much, it's not like our body says we're going to switch out any time soon by the feel of it. Still front stuck with Marshmallow. though I did feel Dizzy's presence a bit earlier and Andrew's. They were more co-conscious. The headache has disappeared at least, so there's that. Homework is due tomorrow and I.. still haven't started.
I'm in a FAR better mood than yesterday and the day before, so I SHOULD be able to get it done. I hope. Why am I so paralyzed by all of this. Marshmallow would step in but he can't seem to take over any control over the body right now. It's like he's just here to keep me company. I want to talk to my brother again and know how he's doing.
I want to see Sorrow and I hope he's doing well without me also. But I just feel so stuck here. It's so funny Marshmallow is a gatekeeper but sometimes it just doesn't fucking work for him either. His ability to control who fronts is limited to when and only when we aren't locked like this.
I don't feel miserable but I feel miserable. Not like "it's the end of the world, kill me, I need to quit school" miserable. But just.. "I wish I could just do it" miserable. I'm so tired. Mentally over this issue. Like everywhere else right now I'm fine for the most part. Minor anxieties. I think knowing we still have at least a 90% in both classes helps. So if we fall back a little bit it won't damage things too much. But that doesn't mean that just because we can, we should.
I don't remember if I talked about this in the last post. I don't recall doing it, but being late, behind all of that has brought back memories of high school. Knowing we'd never be good enough for anyone back then. That's why we dropped math class. It wasn't like the math was hard, we were just so behind at that point in just trying to reach the homework that it stressed us out too much.
Maybe as a solution we could have just gone to the school to log in and reach our stuff and then print it off in the library. We just didn't. We were still so far behind. I'm just so glad our math teacher was beyond understanding and even gave us another option. Though I don't think she fully realized the option she gave us (part of it being online and part of it being in person) is where the struggle is well.. the struggle. We dropped the class mostly because we couldn't keep up because we couldn't even access the homework. Ugh.
But that's okay. There's always another opportunity to do it but I think we should just do math by itself when the opportunity presents itself. After we finish all the other basics, like Biology, Psychology and Interpersonal Communications. I'm sure there may be a few other fields as well but I think those are the main four we need to do for general studies first?
Anyway. Since dropping math class the memories of high school haven't been as prominent. But now we're having this sudden executive dysfunction issue and now.. but I don't fully recall if the lack of doing our homework then was a result of that or a result of the stress of foster care. It could be both or either one. We just can't let this happen again. We cannot. Not for this. Back when we were a child/teenager what matter did it make to us.
There was no dopamine in any of it. ADHD doesn't care about grades and papers and homework. ADHD cares about fun. But now I can't even have fun, just stressed by this idea we'll fall behind again. Why am I front stuck? Why? Can the body just let me switch now? Why do I have to deal with all this life stuff, I'm just a silly woodland boy. I prefer relaxation and comfort with people I care about, not all this stressful stuff.
Marshmallow consistently whispering in my ear that it's okay, it'll be alright. No it won't. It never has been and it never will be. Saying everything will turn out right has actually made things worse before.
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