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#and i want to be a part of the community for them
txttletale · 2 days
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about the "people are allowed to be cis" like i kind of get the optics & context but I do think it's important to recognize that a gender journey can end at the same place it started. Often-times it doesn't because the journey starts due to discomfort with one's gender but in my mind it's the same as questioning any other belief, it's good to do it even if you end up still holding that belief.
The 'problems' faced by cis people who have questioned their gender are not nearly as big as those experienced by trans people but it's still something that happens, particularly among people in trans communities. I think this idea also sort of intersects with the idea of people wanting representation, and the idea of somebody questioning their gender sort of implies they're going to be trans so then there can be disappointment.
Some of this is speculative, and i haven't seen the original post so maybe i'm missing something but your post really hit weird because it's not telling people they can be cis it's saying you can dip your foot in the pool of transgenderism and not go all the way in. Like obviously that's less urgent than people shooting at those in the pool but just dismissing it is kind of weird
people are told it is okay to be cis literally from the moment they are born. i dont want to be harsh but literally everything you're saying could be coming out of the mouth of a conversion therapist -- the current term used to sanitize conversion therapy in the UK is in fact "exploratory therapy". "well we shouldn't rush them into transness we should give them time to decide in case they're actually cis after all" is the #1 talking point undergirding the total annihilation of trans healthcare for young people in the UK. trans people are already told at every single step of the way that it's okay to change their minds and be cis. they are told this by parents and teachers and peers who say "it's just a phase". they are told this by media outlets panicking about """rapid-onset gender dysphoria""". they are told this over and over again by transohobic medical systems that tell them that they should think about whether maybe they're just autistic or gay or they need to have more sex. every single part of our brutally transphobic society is already screaming "IT'S OKAY TO JUST BE CIS" in everyone's ears every second they exist in it. there is never a need to add your voice to that chorus.
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evilminji · 1 day
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You knooooowwww... >.>
The only difference, technically, between a school in the Zone? And on Earth? Is the American government won't recognize your Zone diploma...
Not accredited. But like..... I'm JUST SAYING? If you didn't try to pass your school off as some Big Ivy League type? Pulled the "oh yeah, you'd never have heard of it, it's local." And the COMPUTERS say it's legit?
How many people will dig deeper?
If you legitimately have the knowledge, you legitimately have the knowledge. Not YOUR fault you left out the whole "extra-dimensional" part. It makes folk nervous! And nervous folks get stabby.
So like? If you were ALREADY planning to "Move" as you euphemistically put it? Talked it over with your VERY concerned folks and friends? Who do NOT like the look of the steady but concerning rise of Anti-Ghost Powers That Be? Who finally put their foot down and reminded you that you are a TEENAGER and it's NOT your responsibility to fix the world?
Well...
Fuck those guys, I guess. You'll miss the old house, but Team "Taking our ball and going literally anywhere else" makes some good points. Why ARE you putting up with this?
And honestly, you've never SEEN your dad have so much fun. Him and the Reality Realtor just sorta... Vibe. Himbo to Himbo communications. Smatters of advanced physics. Fudge. It's great.
They move the portal. Collapse the old one in a way that makes it impossible to recover or recreate. You... kinda don't want to ask. They had that "mad scientist glint" in their eyes.
And while everyone's checking out brochures to different realities? You? Head off to the nearest College. It's the Zone, so technically you could go to any of endless billions. But you'd like your education some time this century.
Cue! Danny Fenton! Entering?
Academia's wet dream. A sprawling CITY of a college. Where the classes are on EVERYTHING and the price is FREE. People have Obsessions okay?? They NEED to teach. Debate and discuss! Study! Right papers and read them! It's been going on a while! And what happens when you find a subject that's NOT covered?
YOU COVER IT!
It's like if New York was a College. Good fucking luck find the dorms. Sleep on the floor like the rest of us, you casual.
Danny was Not Prepared ™.
He loves it though.
Classes on aeronautics next making the perfect sandwich, shoved next to historical basketry, stacked above alien slam poetry. But only on Tuesdays! Ever shifting. Breaking his Fenton Born Adhd in to a fine PASTE to be smeared upon bread. Happy mental stimulation chemicals go Brrrrrrrr
If it wasn't wildly inappropriate, he would LICK IT to claim it as his then wrap around it and gaurd like a territorial cat. He thought he HATED school! Turns out he just hated high-school. College though? College, or at least ZONE College, is fuckin AWESOME.
He's sit in SO MANY random classes just cause.
Picked up and dropped them at a whim. When they no longer sparked joy. He's been a flighty bitch and for once? No one CARES. No one says "you HAVE to commit and stick with this FOREVER once you choose this" and? It just? It's so FREEING! He's learned so MUCH!
He's probably gonna come back!
Which? Is how a deeply, DEEPLY weird aerospace engineer from supposedly bumfuck NOWHERE, end up working at Wayne Industries. He's.... a lil crazy behind the eyes. Ha ha... CONCERNING ™!
Dude sleeps on the lab floor. Has weirdly spotty knowledge. Can be an unprecedented genius one second and not know who the current president is the next. Doesn't know what DAY it is. Forgets to eat. Tried to make a fusion reactor out of the break room toaster before Sandra from accounting distracted him with pictures of her cat.
It's like he wanders through life blissfully unaware that he is both terrifying and about three seconds from killing them all. Then FUCKING TRIPS because he forgot to tie his shoelaces again.
Who hired this man?
WHY!?
I mean, we KNOW why. Probably to put him on a watch list. But? He's like a terrifying murder puppy! Built like a tank! That's stoned out of its mind half the time. And have you HEARD his college stories? That CAN'T be legal. Was this guy raised in a cult!? Aaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!????
@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @dcxdpdabbles @hypewinter
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opencommunion · 2 days
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"On October 19, Sarah Mahamid watched helplessly from a window as Israeli security forces shot her younger brother. Taha, 15, had been playing with a friend outside their house in the occupied West Bank city of Tulkarem. The 19-year-old screamed as her brother fell to the ground. Their father, Ibrahim, ran out of the front door to get his son, but a sniper shot him too.
... Nearly 1,500 Palestinians have been unlawfully killed by Israeli forces in the West Bank in the past 16 years – 98 percent of them civilians, according to the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA). Each of them, like Taha and Ibrahim, has a story and loved ones who mourn them. The frequency of the killings have spiked in recent years with Israel killing 509 Palestinians in 2023. That is more than double the number recorded by OCHA in any previous year. ... Israeli officials have for years backed a shoot-to-kill policy regardless of whether the Palestinians being shot posed a threat. Israel has even authorised its army to shoot at stone throwers and has handed out assault rifles to Israeli Jews living in illegal settlements in the West Bank.
Settlers killed 17-year-old Omar Abdel Ghani Hamid when they attacked his village in the West Bank on April 13. Omar was one of several young men who had confronted the settlers to stop them from beating up Palestinians and attacking their homes. Omar’s father, Ahmed, said his son and his friends scared the settlers away even though they were not carrying weapons. However, one of the settlers returned with a pistol and shot Omar. ... Army raids and extrajudicial killings are part of a broader attempt to keep Palestinians in the West Bank 'afraid,' said Zaid Shuabi, analyst and activist with the Palestinian rights group Al-Haq. But it has ultimately led to the formation of a new generation of armed groups, often established by young people who are fed up with the occupation’s transgressions. Israel’s response to this new wave of resistance has been to target entire communities to crush the morale of Palestinians, Shuabi said.
'They want to reshape the Palestinian mind into thinking that we shouldn’t even dare to resist. And if we do, then we will pay a high price,' he told Al Jazeera. 'This is about intimidating us. They want to put us down … and to colonise our minds.'
Sarah believes that was the purpose behind the Israeli attack on her family. She said that while her father and brother bled to death on the street, Israeli soldiers entered her house. The Israeli army then cut off the water and electricity to their home. At one point, one of the Israeli soldiers began beating Sarah’s other brother with the butt of his rifle, telling him to keep silent.
Moments before the soldiers left, Sarah mustered up the courage to ask why they terrorised her family. 'He said, ‘To scare you,’' Sarah told Al Jazeera. 'I couldn’t believe it. I wondered what was wrong with them. They killed my brother and my father just to scare me.'"
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fairuzfan · 2 days
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Sorry one more thing I wasn't going to talk about but if you had asked me about the binational state/land thing maybe... in 2016, I might have given a somewhat positive answer but I think that since then, Israeli society has become exponentially more racist and anti-Palestinian. Since then we had the Abraham Accords, Sheikh Jarrah, Massafir Yatta, the highest child martyr count in years, and now finally a full blown genocide. Many Palestinians who previously advocated for equality in a single state look at all this, especially in recent months and think "how can I live side by side with these people?"
The vast majority of Israeli society is not against war for the sake of the Palestinians, they're against war for their own safety. They say as much. Hell, look at standing together. The founder guy says "our security is tied in with the Palestinians'". So if it wasn't tied with the Palestinians', you wouldn't care? And I get sometimes you need to introduce people to ideas gently, but their entire organization language emphasizes "shared pain" when there is an oppressor/oppressed dynamic they aren't even hinting at. How can anyone achieve safety if you won't even admit you have power over your Palestinian org members?
Even Brothers in Arms claims to want to "strengthen democracy" but they completely ignore Palestinians have never experienced democracy in "Israel". So what's the point strengthening your own standing when the most disadvantaged still are at rock bottom?? Plus your whole group represents the IOF reservists/members, you have no intention of helping Palestinians when you are the primary oppressors. And this is not an insignificant group in israel!
Not many Israelis are willing to put themselves on the line to protect or even advocate for Palestinians. I mean 7+ months into a genocide and what did israeli society do other than protest *netanyahu*? Hold up flour bags during the flour massacre??? The people serving in the idf are your friends and family and community. Tel Aviv is an hour away from Gaza. Surely you can do *something* physical!! They had people at their Gaza borders starving Palestinians on purpose and people just... watched it happen. Not to mention the IOF, which many Israelis are a part of, participates in the genocide and has been lauded for their "heroism". I look at that and I think "how can I expect you to seriously consider my rights as a person? How do I know you won't miss your old status and reclaim it?"
We've seen Israelis *celebrate* and *ridicule* our martyrs and people. So like where us the good faith in all this? Where can we work with some of these people and think "Yeah I believe they'll respect my inherent dignity as a person"?
Which binationalism relies on this. You need to have good faith between communities for this to actually happen. But when one community won't even acknowledge it's status as an oppressor at the height of oppression? Then what?
Israel as a country has never faced any retribution for its actions for 75 years. No one is holding them accountable. The country teaches propaganda in its schools about the Nakba. There is not serious consideration for Palestinian rights in Israeli society. Why would they suddenly decide to participate in a project that puts Palestinians as equal to Israelis when they learned all their lives that Palestinians are ruthless, unreasonable people who can't be reasoned with, and Israelis are logical, poor victims who are actually the ones who need protection from the Palestinians!
It just is mind boggling because I see people constantly complain about the way they hear things from Palestinians these days like "all Israelis need to leave". And they go on to say "why would you be so hateful/why would you say that" and don't think for a minute they're experiencing a televised genocide of their people (which they could have ended up in their shoes! People forget that Gaza has multiple refugee camps! Any one of us could have lived there!) And conversely are looking to Israeli society for them to do anything and they see nothing. At least think for a moment why they would say these things given the context of the situation. There's a genocide going on! And you're worried about what the people who are experiencing their people's genocide are saying because you're worried for the society conducting said genocide?? Let's deal with the matter at hand first!!!!!!
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not-neverland06 · 1 day
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How About A Nuke?
Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII
The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: I see a lot of comments talking about how you guys wished they would just communicate. They are communicating its just that neither of them know what they want. Summary: All you want is to just be clean. He offers to show you a nice little spot where you can finally scrape the grime off of you. What could go wrong?
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“So,” you shifted your bag further up your arm. You were favoring the left today on account of the giant gap he had left in your right bicep. You were still pretty pissed off about that. “Do you ever, you know, bathe?”
He looked over his shoulder at you, he seemed caught off guard by the question. “Bathe?” He repeated, face raised in surprise.
You rolled your eyes and nodded, “Yeah, bathe. I’ve been out here over a week. I’ve got about twenty layers of blood and sand stuck in every crevice.” Your skin crawled thinking about the different types of bodily fluid you’d been sprayed with since coming out of the cryo pod. 
There was a lot of blood, of course, but Hollywood doesn’t show everything that gets excreted in death. You were itching for a good shower. You know that’s out of the question, but there’s got to be something. 
He laughed and ripped off a piece of jerky. He offered you some, grinning when you shook your head. “Buckle up, sweetheart, you’re in for a rude awakening. You can always use the water, but that’s a waste of Radaway if you ask me.” You should have known. It’s not like anyone you’d encountered seemed particularly gung ho about personal hygiene, but you had hoped there would be something. 
You reached down, digging your nails into your arm and scratching off flakes of blood and who knows what else. You shouldn’t have bothered, though, it only made the rest of you feel a hundred times worse. You looked crazy, scratching at yourself like a dog but you couldn’t help it. 
“Alright, damn, I’ll give you some of my Radaway, you look half rabid.”
You stopped with your scratching and stared at him in shock. “You’ll give me some of your Radaway?”
He rolled his eyes, stopping only when he noticed you’d quit walking. “Is that not what I said?”
You crossed your arms and glared at him, “You’re not exactly known for your generosity. What’s the catch?”
He frowned and clutched at his chest like you’d actually done damage, “Now, that hurts darling. I’m just trying to help you out.” He turned around, walking to the right now, further towards greenery and away from the desert. “Plus, it’ll get rid of that fucking smell.”
You kept your mouth shut but he was one to talk. He hadn’t exactly tasted wonderful when he’d kissed you. Nor did he smell amazing. Still, he had made your heart race and it wasn’t from pure terror for once. Though, any positive feelings he’d caused within you had been negated the second he dropped you to the dirt like a used up toy. 
You knew better than to try and bring it up to him, but it had stung. Attacked that vulnerable part of you that made you want to put up walls so high even the sun couldn’t get through. 
With no other choice you sped up and caught up to him. Your hip was still bothering you, but it wasn’t dragging behind you as much as it was a few days ago. The only thing really bugging you now was your throbbing arm. He’d assured you that it couldn’t rot, he’d dealt with that, but that didn’t stop it from hurting like a bitch. 
“Through here is a lake you can use.” He pointed towards the area where the trees started to thin out. 
You looked at him skeptically, “You’re really letting me do this?”
He scoffed and glared at you, “The fuck did I tell you?” You don’t know if he’s talking about his new rule to stop questioning him or about giving you the Radaway, but you keep your mouth shut anyway. He hasn’t been as much of a dick today and you’d rather keep it that way. 
“Here,” he motions through the trees and you stumble into an abandoned neighborhood. It’s been submerged in water, you can spot some old apartment buildings peeking up through the top. 
Briefly, you wonder if you’ve ever passed your old home and just never realized it. You dismiss the thought as quickly as it comes, not willing to let your mind linger on thoughts like that today. 
You slowly make your way to the water, still not entirely trusting of his intentions. He’s made it clear he’s keeping you around for the long haul, but that doesn’t mean he’s stopped tormenting you. “You’re really gonna let me use your Radaway?” You call over your shoulder. 
He sighs and leans against the trunk of a tree. “Get your ass in the water, I won’t wait around all day. 
You’re not dumb enough to fully submerge yourself in radiated water. You just rip a piece of your shirt off and dunk it into the startlingly blue lake. You use it to scrub yourself down, rubbing your arms until they’re raw and feel clean enough. 
You shuffle closer to the water, trying to bend over enough to scrub your face a bit. But when you gaze down into the water you find something gazing back up at you. You scream, scrambling back just as that thing leaps out of the water and towards you. 
Something pink and wet slams into your chest and knocks the air out of your lungs. You grope blindly in the mud for your gun as it opens its mouth. Horror and disgust fill you when you see what’s in its mouth, human fingers dangle like disgusting uvulas. It darts forward, jaw posed to clamp around your whole face. 
A loud bang echoes through the lake. The thing goes flying back and causes ripples to drift across the surface of the water. You clutch your chest, trying to get your breath back and scoot closer to get a better look at whatever attacked you. It’s the size of your torso and looks startling like some deformed axolotl. He’s left a large bullet hole in the middle of it’s head deformed head.
“What the fuck?” You whisper, shakily getting to your feet and groaning when you realize whatever you’d manage to clean off had been replaced by a thick layer of mud. 
You turn around, hoping for some sort of explanation from him, but he’s just bent over laughing, gun still smoking. You grab your bag out of the muck with a huff and glare at him. “Really?”
He straightens up, still grinning and shakes his head. “You should have seen your face, you were petrified.”
”Well, I’m glad someone enjoyed that.” You glare down at the corpse, eyes wide with horror, “It’s got fucking fingers in it’s throat. Human fingers!” He saunters over to you, entirely too pleased with himself. He grabs his inhaler out of his bag and loads it with Radaway. He tosses it over to you and you catch it with your good arm. “You knew that was going to happen, didn’t you?” You press down and take in a deep breath, ignoring how bitter the juice tastes. 
“Never trust anything, rule number one of the Wastelands darling. Can’t even trust the water.” There was a loud roar off towards the middle of the lake and he nodded his head back towards the tree line. “Come on, that one was just a baby Gulper. Momma’s gonna be by soon and I can’t imagine she’ll be real happy.” He walks off without you and you’re stuck staring at the dead mutant. 
“That was a fucking baby?” He laughs at you again and when you catch up with him, you can't help but laugh a little yourself. You probably looked ridiculous, wrestling in the mud with what, apparently, was only an infant. 
He grins at you, “You got a lot to learn.”
You roll your eyes, “Yeah, I know.”
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He’s kneeled down beside you, fingers prodding at the reddened area around your wound. It feels a bit better now, more like touching a fresh bruise rather than raw nerves. He poured some water from his canteen over the area and retied the bandage. He stood up and moved away from you while you dug around in your bag for another ration bar. 
“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You’ve got the bar positioned between your knees, and you’re trying, hopelessly, to open it up with one hand. Your fingers, now dusted with dried mud, slip uselessly against the packaging. 
He looks up at you and lets out a loud sigh. “Give it here.”
”I’ve got it-”
“Give. It. Here.” You huff but toss the bar over to him. He rips it open in one smooth move and throws it back to you. You catch it with your good hand and take a large chunk out of it. It feels like rubber and tastes oddly like dried out meatloaf. You’re not exactly sure what flavor it’s supposed to be replicating, but you figure it’s so old it doesn’t really matter as long as it fills you up. 
He pours some water from his canteen onto a ripped piece of cloth and tosses it at you. You’re unprepared, bar in hand and midchew, it slaps against your face and you scowl under the fabric. “Really?” You mutter, mouth half full. You yank it off your face and give him a questioning look. 
“Just clean yourself up.” 
You drag it across your face and arms, trying to get off as much residual mud as you can. Your clothes are a stained, lost cause, but this will do for now. Not like you’re going to get much better without going up against some mutant monster. 
“You’re being nice today?” It comes out like a question more than anything. Probably because you’re having trouble trusting him, especially after the Gulper incident. You wished you could say you can’t believe he would do something like that, but you’re pretty sure he’d been hoping the mom would get you, not the baby. 
He shrugged and leaned back against a fallen log. “Feelin’ chivalrous.”
You hummed but didn’t push. You forced down another lump of your ration and reached for your water. “Where are we heading anyway? Been walking for a long time but we haven’t seem to have gotten anywhere.”
“There’s a compound I took a bounty for. We’re on our way to deliver it.”
You tilted your head as far back as you could, tongue out and hoping to catch the remaining drops of your water. “Shit,” you tossed the canteen back in your bag, already knowing it was hopeless. 
“Ah, hell,” you glanced up and saw Cooper rifling through his supply box. 
“How are you on Radaway?”
He sighed and chucked the box back into his bag. “Got two vials left.” He ran his tongue along his teeth, a pensive expression on his face. 
You sighed and rubbed idly at some mud left on your fingers. “You’re gonna need more soon.”
He cut you off with a sharp laugh. “Faster than soon, this is the diluted shit.” He rubbed at his chest and you wondered if he was already starting to feel the effects of being so low on the medicine. You can’t believe he gave you a vial of his own with so few left. 
Bastard must’ve really wanted to see you get jumped by a gulper. Your face twisted up in distaste and any twinge of sympathy you’d felt for him dissapeared. You wished he would cough so hard he’d choke on his tongue, at least then you wouldn’t have to listen to his bullshit anymore. 
He looked over at you and then your bag. “Got any of that purified water left?” You shook your head, crumpling the wrapper of your bar up and tossing it somewhere behind you, 
“Just ran out, not sure where I’m gonna find more.”
He chuckled and stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I do,” you stood up and grabbed your own bag, following behind him. 
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Loud laughter and rowdy conversation drifts into the night air. You sit perched behind a large boulder, staring into the building across from you. It’s an old supermarket, refurbished to fit the Wastelanders' needs. “They’ll have what we need?”
He doesn’t look at you, his sight is dead set on the men milling about in front of you. They’re clearly guards, switching positions every couple of minutes and loaded to the teeth with weapons. Cooper silently tracks them, eyes darting between them as they switch positions yet again. 
“Yep,” he lifts up into a squat and watches as one of the men turns his back to lace up his boot. “Now!” He grabs you by the sleeve of your jacket and drags you along as he weaves between the guards. He throws you in front of him, practically tossing you inside the store. 
You hold back your gasp of shock and duck behind a waist-high shelf. There are only seven or eight men walking around inside. They’ve got a fire burning in the middle of the store, the empty shelves pushed back against the walls. Behind them is about the largest pile of supplies you’ve seen since being up here. They could give Ma June a run for her money. 
You peek your head over the shelf and try to get a look at just how many weapons they have. You hear the familiar sound of spurs walking behind you and twist immediately to see Cooper walking calmly towards the group with his hands raised in surrender. He catches your eye and winks before he fully addresses them. 
“Gentlemen!” You sigh and sink back against the shelf, an irritated look on your face. The shelf screeched forward slightly and you scrambled off it, you caught Cooper twitch a little in irritation but he didn’t say anything. He’s been fully noticed at this point, the others all glaring at him with their guns raised. 
He had a full view of all eight men from his perspective. What he couldn’t see, which you could, was a ninth man sneaking up behind him with a knife. He had it poised, aiming to strike right through the back of Cooper’s neck. 
Without thinking too much on it, you leapt out of your hiding spot and used your good arm to point your gun in the man’s face. He came to a stop almost cartoonishly, eyes wide and the knife in his hands trembling when you popped out. 
Cooper barely gave you a glance out of the side of his eye and you figured he knew all about the ninth man. He must have been testing you, see if you really had his back. “Hey!”
“Who the fuck is she!”
“What are you doing here?”
You ignored the sounds of their voices, you kept the gun trained on the boy and motioned him towards the left of the room. He followed, letting you guide him backwards until he was scrambling to hide behind his friends. It’s then that you finally got a good look at just how many guns were trained on you. 
One of them pumped their shotgun and you pulled back the hammer of your gun. Cooper’s guns were still tucked away in their holster, it was just you and however much firepower they could cram between ten pairs of hands. 
“Now, I suggest that you gentlemen put those guns down or my friend here is gonna get a little too friendly with her trigger.”
One of them scoffed, gesturing with the barrel of their pistol towards your right arm hanging limply by your side. “She got a bad arm and a shaking hand.”
“Maybe,” you call out, “but I got a working finger. I only need one of ‘em to kill you.”
Before he can respond there’s another one stepping forward. “She can get real friendly with me.” He’s got a lecherous grin on his face and a look in his eyes that makes your skin crawl. You sigh, sick of the men up here being so predictable, and turn your gun on him. His eyes widen, like he hadn’t seen you pointing it at his friends, and you pull the trigger. 
Your aim is a little off and the recoil is harder to handle with only one hand available to you, but you’ve got a sawed off shotgun in your hand, don’t have to have a great aim to kill a man with that. His twitching body has barely hit the ground before you’re diving to the right and ducking behind a shelving unit. 
Cooper goes to the left, eyes wide in the same astonishment as those men. Bullets started flying the second their friend was on the ground. They were shouting all sorts of insults and threats at you but it was hard to make out over all the shooting.
“You shot him!” Cooper shouted over the hail fire of bullets.
You rolled your eyes and did your best to reload the gun with your wobbly hand. “He pissed me off,” you shouted back at him. You leveled the gun over the top of the shelves and fired blindly. There was a loud yelp and then another Bitch shouted at you, so you must have hit something. 
“You know, I was trying to handle this civilly,” Cooper jumped to his knees and turned around quickly. He fired off a quick succession of shots, four bodies dropped as he did. The rate of gunfire slowed a bit as more men fell. He ducked down and ran across the room, throwing himself down next to you. He tossed his guns at you and tugged yours out of your hand. “Reload me,” you nodded and tugged some bullets out of his bandolier while he used your gun to shoot at them. 
“I’m sure you handling it civilly would have ended the exact same fucking way.”
He grinned and sat back next to you, “Well,” he shrugged, “maybe. Maybe not, doesn’t matter now.” You handed him his reloaded guns and he dropped yours in your lap. “Only a few left, use the shelves as cover and circle around behind ‘em.” He didn’t stay to make sure you understood his plan, he immediately set off, drawing the fire away from you and making a run for it. 
“Shit,” you hissed, struggling to your feet and following his instructions. With only a few of them left it should have been quick work to get rid of the last few stragglers, but the guards from outside had heard the scuffle and were rushing in. Cooper shot most of them but one got close enough to snatch his gun from his hands and throw it to the floor. 
Cooper struggled against the man, his towering form easily overpowering Cooper. Though, your friend didn’t seem particularly worried, if anything it looked like he was letting the man live to draw out the fight, like he was enjoying it. 
You were going to just leave him to it when you saw the same bastard from before with the knife sneaking up behind him again. You rush forward, scooping up Cooper’s gun as you go and shove the man backwards. 
He grunts at the impact but he refused to be deterred. He charges at you, eyes red with rage and blackened mouth frothing like a rabid dog. You try and keep your guard up but you’ve got a gimp leg and a useless arm, it’s not a fight you’re going to win. 
He wraps an arm around your waist and yanks you into him. You grunt, breathing out slowly as you feel his knife slide into your gut. You glance down at the rusted blade and shove your gun under his chin. His eyes widen when you draw the hammer back but you don’t flinch when you pull the trigger, not even when chunks of skull and hair start raining down on you. 
Cooper must have finally noticed the tussle happening behind him because he draws his second gun out from under his coat and ends his little fight with the last of them. You must be in shock, you still haven’t fully experienced the pain that you should. 
There’s a knife sunk past the handle slammed into your gut, you should be feeling something shouldn’t you? You’re sure it’s the adrenaline still pumping through you. Your body is warm from how fast your blood is pumping, your ears ringing from all the gunshots and head spinning from the amount of blood steadily leaking out of the wound. 
“Hey,” you turn around to face him and his eyes widen ever so slightly. You lose your footing and he darts forward, quick arms grab you and draw you into his chest. You clutch onto the sleeve of his jacket, letting all of your weight rest on him while you try and get your panicked breathing under control. 
You’ve had worse injuries than this. As hard as it is to believe, in your time up here, you’ve survived a lot worse than some measly stab wound. 
So why does this feel so fucking bad?
“Oh,” you moan in pain, nearly doubling over. A feeling like a million exposed nerves being set on fire stops you from falling to the floor, instead you push off Cooper and struggle to your feet. 
“Alright, come on,” he grabs your arm again and you have the ridiculous urge to just shove him off you. Your head is swimming,  you feel like you could float away. You look down at the knife again and finally realize just how large it is. One of those hunting ones that was about the width of your hand curled into a fist. 
Well, fuck.
“Hey,” he snaps when you stumble away from him again. “Sit your stubborn ass down, you need help.” He yanks on the straps of your shirt, holding you up and dragging you to a chair, you don’t have much choice as he forces you to sit. Though, the motion causes a wave of excruciating pain to flare through you. 
He kneels in front of you and rips your shirt open, you’re in too much pain to complain about it right now. He hums low in the back of his throat as he takes in the wound. With no warning whatsoever he grabs the knife by the handle and yanks it out like he’s ripping off a fucking bandaid. 
You nearly scream, lurching forward and shoving him away from you. The sudden shock of pain has left you half blind and panting like an animal. “What the fuck was that?” You force out through gritted teeth. He plants a hand on your shoulder and presses you firmly against the back of the chair. 
“Need to get you a Stimpak.” He takes your hand in his and presses it against the wound. Where blood was once oozing, it’s now gushing. You hadn’t realized just how much keeping the knife in had kept the blood at bay. With how rapidly it’s leaving you now you’re afraid. 
You’re afraid that you might not be able to make it back from the edge with just a Stimpak. You can already feel your fingers going cold, pretty soon you won’t be able to flex them and then you’d lose feeling in your arms too. 
“Hey,” he uses the grip he has on your hand to press down on the wound. You groan but he keeps the pressure steady. His eyes bore into your dazed ones, some odd expression in them. “You don’t get to give up. Keep pressure on this, understand me?” Your head flops forward in a lazy nod. 
He could have been gone for a minute or an hour, you wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. Your head is foggy, coherent thoughts replaced by loopy ones. You’re struggling to remember where you are or what you’re supposed to be doing. 
Just as your hand slips from the wound, he comes back. He grabs your hand and places it back, holding it there with his own. You appreciate the way he warms your fingers back up, but the rest of you is freezing too. Maybe he’d share his jacket. 
The thought of him sharing anything makes you laugh and he gives you a frustrated look. “Don’t go losing it on me. Not yet at least.”
You lean forward, face nearly pressed against his and grin. “You know, I haven’t heard a thank you yet.”
He scoffed, opening the Stimpak with one hand and preparing the injector. “Yeah, for what?”
“Saving your life, dick.”
You’re caught off guard when he slams the needle into your stomach, your lips part with a silent gasp and you wince at the cool rush of medicine. He grins at you, “Well, thank you for being the only dumbass to get herself stabbed in a gun fight.”
The medicine works fast, you learned that from when he’d shot you. You can already start to feel the pulse of blood slowing and your head clearing up slightly. “Asshole,” you hiss, leaning away from him. But his eyes stay trained on you, on both of your blood covered hands and where they still rest, linked together, on your stomach. 
You find yourself taking advantage of his distraction to really look at him. It bothers you, how after everything, his eyes are still so pretty. It’s the first thing that drew your attention when you were younger. Those eyes of his had you swooning from the first time you saw him on the big screen. 
He catches you but you can’t find it in yourself to care. There’s something odd in the air, a lingering tension from the kiss you’d never discussed. From the silent partnership you’d never voiced. You’d nearly gotten yourself killed for him tonight, the thought finally seemed to be dawning on him. 
His eyes drop to your lips and he leans in. He doesn’t get very far, lips just barely brushing yours before you’re jerking back in surprise. You’re bleeding out in his hands and he kisses you? Your hand is up and cracking across his cheek before you can think about it. 
His head whips to the side with a satisfying crack. He lets out a breathy chuckle, using his free hand to soothe the area you’d hit. He stretches the tension out of his jaw and shakes his head before he looks at you again. 
Maybe he shouldn’t have kissed you. You definitely shouldn’t be further entertaining his ideas that he holds any sort of possession for you, but you’d just realized what that look in his eyes had been earlier. He had been worried about you. 
Cooper has always been the one who protected you. Not the other way around. And as twisted as he’d become, it still relatively remained the same dynamic today. You’d caught him off guard earlier, putting yourself in danger like that for him. And he had been worried about you. 
You grab him by the collar of his jacket and drag him forward before he can decide what to do with the fact that you slapped him. Your lips meet again and he hovers over you on your chair. The hand on your stomach pushes harder against you, deepening the pressure and making you groan into his mouth. 
He doesn’t waste time, deepening the kiss and letting his other bloodied hand drift into your hair. His fingers curl around the strands and he yanks your neck back, manipulating you how he wants and bending you to his desires. You melt into it, into the complete control you allow him to momentarily wield over you. 
You let your mind go blank and just focus on him. You can pretend, for now, that you’re in his old house. You’re coming back after a date at one of those fancy restaurants that he hates, but he takes you there anyway so you can have an excuse to dress up. 
He’ll whisper I love you and drag you to the couch. You’ll start there, his kisses traveling lower until he’s dragging you back to his bedroom. You’ll feel valued, cherished, loved. Cooper will take care of you. 
He parts slowly from you, still keeping a firm grip on your hair. It takes a moment for your eyes to flutter open again. You’re sure you look like a mess, staring up at him with glossy eyes and swollen lips, completely drenched in your own blood. 
“Don’t think about him when I’m the one kissing you, darling.” Your eyes widen and he lets you go. He shoves back from you and paces towards his bag. Any warmth in his eyes, any care, was gone. 
You want to say something to drag him back but the moment has passed. It’s not like he was wrong, you were pretending he was someone completely different to make yourself feel better. 
But you couldn’t make yourself feel guilty when you remembered half the reason you needed the comfort was because of who he was now. He comes back with a needle and thread. He lets the needle hover over the men’s fire for a moment before he approaches you with it. “Stimpak will only do so much, need to sew you up.”
You nodded and looked away as he knelt down and pressed the needle into your skin. You barely felt it,  could barely pay attention to him when your thoughts were on what it was like before. What he was like before. Sometimes it makes you sick to your stomach to look at him. 
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end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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polyo-nym-y · 3 days
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Desserts, Served.
[Bon Appétit Pt.2]
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Alastor x Female Reader
[What to expect/Warnings: NSFW MDNI!!Blood, begging, P in V, you get restrained by his tendrils, soft ending, dirty talk, idk its tame for how I write Alastor LOL]
[Part 1 Here]
[Link to full drawing here]
Hello! Oh my goodness I am just utterly speechless by the positivity within this little horny community!
Thank you to everyone who liked my first post and who commented wanting a part two. This is for you guys <3 I’m sorry it took FOREVER to finish but I was nervous about disappointing lol.
But I needed to get this posted cause I have SO much planned for the future >:3
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You watched as his long fingers hook under each suspender, slowly slinking them off his shoulders. He sent a toothy grin down to your disheveled form. As if the red of his eyes were literal hell-fire, you felt his gaze rake over your body, heat quickly following wherever they went. “What do you say, darling, are you ready for dessert?” His voice was low and heavy, the sound settling in your ears but you were unable to process what he exactly said. Your own rapid heart rate was all you could focus on as you tried to calm yourself down from the overdose of dopamine you just experienced.
A chuckle rattled from him as he reached a hand out, talons holding your chin to direct your gaze at him. His ears twitched as he cocked his head to the side, staring into your wide and glossy gaze. “Hello~? Still with me? I don’t recall eating that tongue of yours.”
Your head was foggy from your release and eyes too focused on how beautiful he looked right now. The room was dark save for the soft lighting of a lamp on a far table. His eyes glowing ethereally and his smile softening around the edges.
Alastor leaned, pressing his hips further against you. The feeling of his clothed hard-on against your exposed flesh was more than enough to wake you from your dreamy state. Glancing down trying to see him pressed into you. “W-What?”
“I asked you a question.” Pinching your chin his claws dug in slightly, trying to get your eyes back up to his. “It’s not a proper meal without dessert, you know.” He hummed a tune you didn’t recognize as he leaned back and away from you. “But if you’re full-“ He physically withdrew himself from you, reusing the same manipulation tactic he used earlier.
Just as he hoped, it brought panic to your eyes. Once again the idea of losing his touch rocked you to your core, literally. Suddenly realizing how cold and empty you felt without him and his addicting touch. The exhaustion you once felt melted away as you pushed yourself up from resting on your elbows. You lurched forward, fingers yanking Alastor in by his shirt. Crashing your lips into his you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him into you, ensuring he couldn’t back away any further.
He watched with wide eyes for only a moment before he quickly melted into the kiss. One arm wrapped around your waist to press you flush to his chest. His other hand came to hold you by the back of your neck with a firm pressure.
His half-lidded gaze never left you as he swiped his tongue over your lips, asking entrance. To his dismay, however, you instead pulled away from him. His long fingers tightening at your neck as you struggled to pull your lips from his, his own hunger and greed showing.
You slowly slipped your eyes open to find him already staring at you. Having leaned away from his lips just enough to ghost words across them. “I’ll never count a meal as satisfying until I’m feeling stuffed.” You could feel his grin grow as he narrowed his eyes on you. “And I’m famished.”
Once again you felt the air around you grow heavy. Static began to prick at your skin as it buzzed in your ears. The lamp flickered in the background as the entire room grew darker. “Oh, Mon Cher…” his words were so heavily filtered you could barely hear him, the static began to rise further. His claws danced from the back of your neck as his hand nestled to your front. His large palm gripping you by your throat as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I'm going to fuck you stupid.” Instantly, blood rushed to your cheeks. He dropped the innuendos and the shock from it had you frozen like a deer in headlights.
You felt him tighten his grip around your throat, lips parting to gasp air instinctively. The room grew dark, too dark, as the space was completely shrouded in shadows. The only presence was Alastor, his glowing gaze seeming brighter than before. His little antlers began to grow above you. Perhaps, you thought, you were indulging him too much.
Fear flooded your senses as he drew himself up from you, stature taller than before. Suddenly, you were being thrown down against the desk by your throat. Body tensing as you braced for a hard impact of wood and vintage radio equipment. Your hands flew to grip his wrist as you were thrown back. But the pain you expected never came as instead a plush softness enveloped you. You blinked, darting your gaze around as the shadows withdrew, allowing light back in.
The sound of a zipper and a rattling laugh snapped your attention back to Alastor. He loomed over where you laid on the edge of a soft surface. “Oh ho! You should’ve seen yourself just now!” His shoulders bounced, his genuine laughter had you squeezing your thighs together. “Fear looks good on you, my dear.” He’d coo over you.
Confused, you glance away from him as you begin to crawl backwards, you turn your attention to the room. Realizing you were no longer in his radio tower. Instead, you were resting on a soft bed in a familiar room, your room. “Wha-” You turned back to Alastor squinting up at him. “Oh, fuck you! You think you’re so funny?” You tried to keep the playful squint but you couldn’t stop the smile that wanted to form.
You pushed yourself up into a sitting position, eyes glued to the open zipper as he untucked his shirt. The bed dipped as he stalked closer, his knee settling on the mattress. “I know I’m funny, darling.” You had just barely caught a glimpse of his dark happy trail before you came face to face with Alastor, who had crawled over to you. One black palm settled flush against your chest. A devious smirk returning to his features as he pushed you back down on your back.
A huff of air left your lungs as you were knocked down. Eyes scanning over his face as he situated himself above you. As you felt his hands pry your legs open at your knees, you let out a scoff. “Tch yeah…funny-looking..” you would taunt under your breath.
He quirked a brow at you as he sat on his knees between your legs. “Ha. Ha.” One of his hands worked on removing his bow tie whilst the other flicked the bite he left on your inner thigh. Chuckling when you flinched and yelped in reaction, the wound still raw and tender.
Your gaze lingered lower as he began popping the first few buttons of his shirt open. “You know? Maybe I should eat that naughty tongue of yours.” When your gaze snapped back up his bones cracked, antlers reaching out like dead tree limbs. He fell onto his palms as his large body caged you against the bed.
A nervous smile crossed your expression as that similar fear rose in you. But it wasn’t typical fear, no, this feeling was something raw and instinctual. The fear a prey would feel when cornered by a predator, with a sprinkle of lustful anticipation. Your body tensed under him as one hand grabbed your jaw, fingers that somehow grew longer squish your cheeks forward. “You’d miss it.” You’d mumble out with your lips being forced to purse.
“I don’t know, my dear, you can still moan without one~“ releasing your face, his hand trailed down between your breasts and settling on the softness of your stomach.
Your breath caught in your throat as you heard it before you realized what he was doing. Goosebumps littered your skin at the sound of ripping fabric. “Alastor!-“ a gasp of his name left you. He tore your nightgown straight down the middle and sliced the remains of your underwear that clung around your waist.
“I would, however, miss that.” His eyes fell from yours and followed down the dip of your breasts.
Just as quickly as you went to cover your exposed chest did his shadow-y tendrils appear. Multiple jutted out from his back as they wormed their way towards you, slipping around your wrists and tangling all the way down your elbows. You fought against them at first but they were stronger than you, as they yanked your arms above your head pressing them into the bed. Your back arches as you weakly struggle against his hold, mostly just testing him. But your body freezes as you feel something hot and hard smack against your pubis area.
One hand holds his exposed cock at the base where it pokes out from above his pants. A toothy grin as he watches you jolt with each smack of his swollen tip against the hood of your clit. The mere sight of him had your arousal re-awakening, needy cunt clenching around nothing.
“C’mon.” He slowly pumped his cock, spreading the precum that eagerly dripped from his tip. “Be a good girl and tell me what you want.”
Your jaw clenched at his vulgar request as you felt your whole body flush. Though your eyes never left the monster he held against you, swallowing nervously as your lips parted slowly. You found it difficult to ask for something so depraved. Not to mention you were growing more nervous at the realization that when his body grew larger, everything grew.
He saw your hesitation, and usually he’d take time to enjoy your dismay and embarrassment. But right now? He needed you completely and he was done stalling.
Lazily he rubbed his cock up and down your slit, mixing his pre-cum with your slick. When he saw your face contort he moved with more intention, his cock twitching in his hand as he rubbed against your clit slowly.
“Please..” you pleaded meekly as your eyes rose to meet his. The look he sent down to you sent a tingling feeling through your body. There was such a deep hunger in them that you were certain he was just as desperate for this as you were. The thought of The Radio Demon nearing a breaking point to have you? That had a small smirk forming across your face. You felt him twitch and throb against you as soon as you smiled.
“Alastor, Please.” His grin strained as he watched a cocky glint appear in your eyes. “You said you’d fuck me stupid. Aren’t you a man of your word?” You stretched as much as you could as you rolled your hips up against him. “Or is the scary Radio Demon a-“
A growl interrupted your taunting, a choking gasp leaving you. Without warning he thrusted into you with his hands shifting to grip your hips. Thankfully, you were thoroughly lubricated. However, you were not prepared for the burning stretch you felt as his thick member fought against your tight walls. Tears welled in your eyes from the overwhelming feeling and you were shocked to see he wasn’t even halfway in.
Trailing claws scratched down your tense thighs as his hands cupped under your knees. In one quick movement he had your knees pressed against your chest, ass lifting from the bed slightly. With this movement alone you felt him slip in just a little more, were you panting? “To think I ever planned on being gentle. You don’t want gentle, do you?” His glowing red gaze flickered as darkness flooded them. The air in the room began to tingle and prick at your skin as his filter grew heavier once again. Something that you were noticing indicated a strong surge of emotions coming from Alastor. As if what he felt was so heavy it practically oozed from him, sticking to your skin. You tried to control your breathing but he was making it difficult in more ways than one.
Tears slipped down the sides of your face as you tried to blink away the blur they caused. Trying to focus on Alastor who loomed above you like a monster. Body unnaturally large, grin spread tightly across his face and his dark eyes spun with red dials at their center. That confidence to poke the bear melted away quickly as you tugged at the tendrils around your arms. But they only responded by pressing your hands into the bed further. Your lips parted to try and frantically babble some weak reply. But any words you planned on saying were distorted into a yelp-like scream. With a sudden snap of his hips he buried his ungodly length into you, sinking to the hilt. Through bleary vision you saw the shape of him pushing up your stomach from where it reached deep inside of you. For the first time in your afterlife you thanked God you were dead, knowing well that Alastor did not intend on going easy on you.
Just as you thought, he did not give you the luxury to adjust. His claws dug into your skin where he held your legs. All you felt was the intense fullness, unaware of the small cuts his hands left as blood slowly began to drip down onto your chest. Gritting his teeth he fought against your tight hole to wrench himself out before snapping back into you. The force of it involuntarily rips a moan from you as your eyes roll back before slipping closed altogether.
Like a well trained dog your eyes snapped back open, missing their momentary rest already. Your obedience won, however, as you instantly looked up to him at the sound of your name. A sweet staticky purr rumbling from him as he spoke. “Eyes on me, Mon Cher, I want to witness your descent into madness.”
Your heart fluttered and he sucked in sharply as he felt you clench around him. How did he manage to be so alluring whilst being so demonically horrid? Perhaps that was a fault on your part and your questionable desires.
“Hm~? You like that?” His voice, the air, your body and his body on yours, everything felt heavy and hot. The heat of it all coated your skin in sweat as you felt your thoughts literally melt away into pathetic puddles. Panting, trying to will your body to grow accustomed to his size, you couldn’t do anything but look up at him with pleading eyes. “The thought of me corrupting you? Ruining you?” You felt warmth slither under your back as more tendrils worked their way to you. Pushing your lower half up from the bed completely as he contorted you. He shifted, sitting up on his knees as he buried himself deep inside you. The lifted angle had you seeing stars, swearing that he’d pierce through your womb completely.
You choked, spittle running over your lips as he rutted into you. He started a deep and focused pace. Laughing sadistically at the sounds of your choked out moans and the squelching of your cunt. Tendrils replaced the hold under your knees as they held your legs open wide for him. Talons now free to rake up your body as he enjoyed your quivering response.
“P-Please-“ you wheezed out between gasping breaths. “T-Too much-“ despite your pleas, you both felt how eagerly your walls twitched around him. Your cunt had a firm grip on him, making it difficult to even pull out for a shallow thrust. Even with the slower pace you felt that coil begin to twist in your stomach.
“What do you mean, darling? Did you not say you wanted to be stuffed?” You bit your bottom lip, trying to hold in the cry you wanted to let out. Your own hubris has come to bite you in the ass, like it often does. All you could do is whine, meekly shaking your head. “You poor little thing. Have you gone stupid already? Because despite what that mouth says- down here?” Another deep thrust rocks your whole body but he doesn’t pull back. Grinding his hips down into yours so roughly you swore your bones were bruising. “Down here is begging for the exact opposite.”
“F-Fuck- please-” Somehow he managed to grind right into your sweet spot. His breathing became ragged above you as he felt his last little bit of restraint leave him. A static hiss left him as he drew his hips back only to drive his cock roughly back in. Frantics pleas tumbled from you as you were begging for your second release.
“Say it-” his thrusts were hard and fast as he fucked into your cunt, chasing his own pleasure. “Say my name- fuck,” his filter dropped as your ears were blessed with his raw voice. At some point more and more tendrils leaked from him as they wrapped around you, their warm grip flexing with every thrust.
He had you completely bound by his tendrils, forced to be nothing but a hole for his cock. His hands were so tight on you and right now he could care less if it hurt. Alastor watched you wheeze under him as he grew frantic and sloppy with his thrusts. As one of the shadows slithered between your bodies to lovingly rub against your clit, you felt your orgasm come to its cusp. You screeched his name like a dying animal as every muscle in your body tensed. His thrusts became shallow and deep as your cunt spasmed around him. Your second rush of dopamine settled over your body in waves as he continued fucking you through your orgasm.
His hips stuttered as he panted out a laugh and brought a hand down to grab your face. Keeping your head still as he bore into your fucked-dumb eyes, watching them widen as he reached his peak with a grunt. Your legs spasmed and a deep warmth flooded your abdomen as he pumped his cum into you. Your release tipped into overstimulation as he didnt stop fucking into you even after cumming. “My sweet girl.” A long moment passed before he finally slowed his assault. Coming to a full stop once he saw your eyes fully glaze over as he knew he was losing you again. His chest rose and fell rapidly as each tendril slowly left your body, gently lowering you back onto the bed. “Youre my sweet girl, right?” He wanted to see if you were still listening.
You blinked through tears as you watched his body shrink back to its original size, albeit still large compared to you. You nodded up to him slowly and winced when he removed his claws from where they dug shallow cuts into you. His smile was soft as he slipped himself out from you. He couldn't stop his eyes snapping down to watch his seed seep from your lips.
A silence fell between you as you laid there trying to lower your heart rate. Your eyes watched him as he cleaned himself up before tending to you. His touch was much gentler on you as he scooped you up to tuck you under your blankets. As your mind began to clear you began to worry- was your deal just for one night? “Alastor?”
He hummed a response as he looked you over. He saw that familiar fear, the fear of him leaving. An amused sigh left him as he settled into the bed beside you. “Hush now, dear, you need to get some rest.” He snapped his fingers to turn the lights off before pulling you into his chest. “Afterall, I intend on sharing many more meals with you.”
You felt him bury his lips into the top of your head as your anxiety melted away. Within the dark you wore a soft smile as you let your eyes close. “I’ll hold you to that.” All you felt was comfort and warmth as you let yourself drift to sleep to the sound of Alastors heart.
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[Tags for those who asked for PT. 2 <3: @saturn-alone @lustylita @karmakillz @saint-altruist ]
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secondstar-acorn · 3 days
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can’t think of anything to say other than it was everything I could have ever expected and wanted and hoped for. seeing them perform truly is an electric experience and I am so, so grateful I got to be there. I’ve never felt such overflowing joy and love in one room before and that truly is down to what a one-of-a-kind group Starkid is. I’m so happy and a little emotional that it’s over but like it’s sung in days of summer, “don’t wanna see you go but it’s not forever, not forever” ⭐️💜
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beskarandblasters · 2 days
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I Don't Wanna Keep Secrets Just To Keep You
Part Three of Time, Wondrous Time
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader
Main Masterlist | Cooper Howard Masterlist | AO3
Series summary: You’re California Crest Studios’ newest production assistant, getting the opportunity to work on the hit movie, The Man From Deadhorse. But when you meet the movie’s lead, Cooper Howard, you fall head-first into a secret affair. Enter a war, a cryogenic freezer, and a two-hundred-year time jump. And yet despite all that, you just might run into him again.
Chapter summary: You come to terms with your feelings for Cooper. Later, you share an intimate moment at The Man From Deadhorse cast party.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied and wears a dress + makeup, unspecified age gap, jealousy, drinking, dub con/consent under the influence, !!! sweaty Cooper !!!, hair pulling (Cooper’s), oral sex (M and F receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, cum swallowing, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart), angst, no use of y/n
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That one fateful night led you headfirst into a secret affair. The first night could’ve been nothing but a fluke, a one-time slip-up as a result of a poor decision. But it’s really the second time that confirms the undeniable attraction you two have for one another. The affair lasts through the rest of the shoot. You fall into a routine of getting together at night after the workday is done, always in his trailer and never on weekends. It always ends with you two lying with each other, talking about life. He shares his misgivings about his wife and her job at Vault-Tec. He’s a paranoid man but based on what he told you, you can’t blame him. 
As the end of shooting draws near, you form a pit in your stomach. A sense of dread and longing looms over you. What if you never have nights like these again? What if this is your first and last production working with Cooper Howard? And now that the end is in sight, you realize you have a serious problem…
You’re head over heels in love with him. It’s driving you crazy, craving a man who will never truly be yours. You want more than just his midnights. You want his mornings, his weekends– you want him all the time. In the countless nights you’ve spent with him in his trailer, he’s shown you colors you’ve never seen before. It makes you sick, thinking about the hold he has on you. 
But you wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the whole world. 
-
It’s the last day of the shoot. These past couple of months have flown by. You thought by now you’d be upset to lose your sense of community. But the truth is, you never felt like you were fully integrated into this environment. You joined the crew about halfway through the production when there were already pockets of established groups and cliques. It’s ironic to think about, the leading man being the only person to welcome you with open arms. You never expected him to even give you the time of day and yet here you are, sharing secrets under the cover of night, sweaty limbs intertwined paired with labored breaths. Those nights were fleeting moments of bliss. You wish you had appreciated them a bit more. And now that the shoot is wrapping up, you’re not sure when you’ll ever get moments like that again. 
After a long, hot, tiring day, Emil finally calls wrap. Everyone is packing up when Emil calls everyone for an announcement. 
“I know it’s been a long day and you all want to get home to your families but I just have an announcement I’d like to make,” Emil says. “This has been a long shoot, a lot longer than I intended it to be, and to celebrate I’m having a party for the cast and crew Saturday night at seven. If you need my address, find me before you leave. Thanks, everyone!”
A party for the cast and crew. 
You get butterflies in your stomach, thinking about the possibility of seeing Cooper outside of the studio. You can only assume Barb will be there, too. But it’s worth hearing his voice and seeing his smile, at least one more time. Saturday can’t come soon enough.
You make sure to get Emil’s address before hanging back like you always do. You’re not sure if you’ll get to see Cooper in his trailer again. You can only hope since it’s the last day. But you’ve never talked about what will happen to you now that the shoot’s wrapped up. A sinking feeling in your gut tells you that your relationship will end after tonight. 
You wander aimlessly while you wait for Cooper, reminiscing on your time here and most importantly with him. You turn and glance over your shoulder, watching as Cooper walks towards you, out of costume and in his regular clothes. You smile when you see him but he doesn’t match yours, his mouth forms into a tight frown. 
“Everything alright?” you ask as he approaches you. 
“I can’t stay tonight.”
“No worries,” you lie, already fighting the urge to cry. 
“Something came up with Janey.”
“I hope everything’s okay.”
“It’ll be fine. She’s just sick and Barb has some big meeting with the executives at Vault-Tec tonight. Babysitter’s not available on short notice.”
“Sounds important.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“You don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault.”
“I’ll see you on Saturday, sweetheart,” he says, turning and walking away.
“You’re going?!”
“Of course I am!” he calls over his shoulder, walking to the parking lot. 
So much for one last time together. 
-
The shoot wrapped up on a Thursday so luckily you only had to wait a day before Saturday rolled around. After spending an exorbitant amount of time on your makeup and outfit, you head to Emil’s house. You’re wearing one of your favorite dresses, a color that compliments your skin and hugs your body in all the right places. You pull up to Emil’s house, a huge mansion in the hills, overwhelmed at the sheer size of it but also expecting nothing less from him. 
His house is packed with everyone from the studio, letting loose over cocktails and cigarettes. For a minute, you feel like a deer in headlights, anxious about who to talk to and where to hang out. You spot Cooper across the living room, talking with a group of people you recognize. But you’re not comfortable enough to go over there and insert yourself in the conversation. To your delight, Barb isn’t with him. But before you get too excited, you remind yourself she could be elsewhere in the house. 
You get a drink from the wait staff in the kitchen and hang out in the corner of the living room, sipping your drink and awkwardly waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in. But you’re pulled from your pining when a man approaches you, drink in hand and wearing an uneasy smile. You vaguely recognize him. You’ve seen him around on set but you couldn’t place his name or what he does at the studio. 
“Hi,” he says, awkwardly.
“Hi.”
“I’ve seen you around on set.”
“Likewise.”
“I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Dan,” he says, holding out his hand. 
You reluctantly shake his hand and tell him your name, letting an uncomfortable silence fall between you two. 
“Actually, I… I wanted to tell you something else.”
“Shoot.”
“Well, I’ve always thought you were beautiful, and I…”
What’s he saying turns into white noise as your gaze fixates on Cooper again. To your surprise, Cooper’s looking right at you with his jaw clenched. Could he possibly be… jealous?
You look back at Dan who’s silent, waiting for your response. You blink a few times and say, “That’s sweet of you. But I’m not looking for anything right now.”
He opens his mouth to speak but before he can, you say, “Would you excuse me for a moment? I need some air.”
You push past him and make a beeline for the glass door across the living room. But before you can step outside, Emil stops you. 
“Hey! I just wanted to give you something,” he says, setting his drink down on a shelf and reaching inside his pocket. He pulls out a small envelope and continues, “Open this when you’re alone later.”
“Thanks,” you say, taking the envelope from him and putting it in your purse. 
“Is everything alright?”
“I’m okay. I just need some air. Thanks, Emil,” you respond, sliding past him. 
You head into the backyard, sitting on a lawn chair by Emil’s pool. The prospect of another man confessing his attraction to you just sends you further into Cooper’s arms, confirming how badly you want to be exclusive with him already. But you also wonder what could possibly be in that envelope Emil gave you. You go to open it but a voice stops you, an unmistakable voice. 
“You okay, sweetheart?”
You look up at him as he places a hand on your shoulder. He’s wearing concern all over his face. 
“That guy wasn’t bothering you, was he?”
“No,” you shake your head. “It’s just a little overwhelming in there.”
“What do you say we go somewhere more private?”
“Where?”
He gestures across the pool with his head. You glance in that direction and spot a pool house, turning and looking at Cooper again with a smirk on your face. 
“You go first. I’ll meet you there.”
“Is Barb here?”
“Nope. She’s at a Vault-Tec dinner.”
Perfect. 
You walk over to the pool house, creeping the door open and poking your head inside, just to make sure no one’s inside. It’s bigger than it looks on the outside. You opt to turn on a lamp rather than the main overhead light. You don’t want to draw any extra attention. A large sectional sits in the middle of the room, complete with a bar cart at its side. You toss your purse on the couch and turn to peek into the bathroom, finding a full-blown sauna. 
Cooper joins you and closes the door to the pool house, putting a hand on the small of your back. 
“Impressed?”
“Uhh, yeah. This is wild.”
“Wanna use it?”
“Really?”
“Mhm,” he says, turning up the dial. 
He starts taking off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. Before you get undressed you ask, “Are we going to get in trouble?”
“Hell no.”
“Are you sure?”
“Would you stop worrying so much?” he says, hands gravitating to your waist and pulling you close. He leans in and whispers in your ear, “Strip for me. Now.”
“Yes, sir,” you breathe, turning around so he can unzip your dress. You peel off your clothes and kick off your shoes as the small wooden room heats up. A warm, earthy scent fills your senses. You look at him, his belt undone and his pants hanging low on his hips. 
“You’re gorgeous… But I’m sure you’re sick of me tellin’ you that all the time.”
“Are you kidding me? I’ll never get used to it,” you say, sitting on the bench. 
He gets down on his knees, pulling your thighs apart with his hands. Without warning, he dives face-first into your cunt, licking one long, slow trail up your entrance. A shiver runs down your spine as you take a deep breath, the woodsy aroma filling your lungs. You look down at him and find him staring directly at you. His tongue swirls around your pussy before he latches his mouth onto your clit, sucking with more and more pressure. He moans into you as he works you up to the edge. You reach between your legs and run your hand through his hair, gripping his locks as you teeter on the brink of orgasm. You tug on his hair every time his tongue hits a particularly sensitive spot. He’s already slick with sweat, forehead glistening in between your legs. Your moans and whimpers grow louder and stronger, coming out as choked-up sobs as he pushes you over the edge. Waves of pleasure wash over you, your cunt clenching around nothing while your thighs close around his head. He laps up the remnants of your release before sitting on the bench next to you, swiping his fingers across his jaw to collect the rest of your spend and popping them in his mouth. 
You trade places with him, sinking to the floor on your knees. One of your hands cups his balls as the other wraps around the base of his already hard cock. You waste no time taking him in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock over and over again. He throws his head back and curses under his breath, bringing a hand to your face and caressing your cheek. You flash your eyes up at him, watching him go crazy for you. His jaw is slack and his pupils are wide, adoration written all over his face.
Just when you think he’s going to cum, he grabs your face and pulls his cock out of your mouth, “Not so fast.”
You stand up and turn around so your back is facing him, taking it upon yourself to sit on his cock. He curses again, wrapping his hands around your waist and playing with your nipples as you bounce up and down. 
“Such a good girl. Bouncing up and down on my cock like a fuckin’ angel.”
“Only for you.”
“That’s right,” he responds, letting one of his hands leave your waist to deliver a swift slap on your ass. 
Between bouncing yourself on his cock and grinding your hips back and forth, you’re well on your way to your second orgasm. Your wetness seeps out of you and coats his lap, making it easier to grind against his lap. With one last motion of your hips, you cum around his cock, feeling truly full. You lean back against his chest, both of your bodies hot and drenched with sweat. Aftershocks of your orgasm rip through you, making you shudder. His hands roam up and down your body, leaving no part of you ignored. But he can only hold off his orgasm for so long. He grabs your hips and coaxes you to get up, ordering you to get on your knees again. 
“On your knees, sweetheart.”
You face him with your mouth open, tongue sticking out as he strokes himself. Soon enough, he’s coming into your mouth with a guttural moan. You swallow his release before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You crawl into his lap and wrap yourself around him, always listening for his wild heartbeat. Both of you are completely covered in sweat, but it’s not gross. It’s a pleasant aroma of his natural scent mixed with the woodsy fragrance of the sauna. It’s a scent you could get addicted to if you’re not careful enough. He strokes your back, kissing your head and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. 
Tilting your head, you look up at his face. “Were you… jealous of that guy earlier?”
“Who? Dan?”
“Mhm. You look like you would have punched him right then and there,” you tease. 
“No one flirts with my girl.”
Those two words. My girl. That’s all you wanted to hear him say over these past few months. But then reality settles in. Dan doesn’t know you’re Cooper’s girl. 
You think about where you are and remember that you’ll have to leave the pool house separately. You remember that he can only call you sweetheart in secret. You remember that he’s just… not truly yours. 
The affair’s been fun and all but it’s just been placating you from what you’ve been craving this whole time– exclusivity. You want to be more than his dirty little secret. You want his Friday nights and his Sunday mornings. You want to eat dinner with him every night. You want to go on dates. You want to walk red carpets with him and listen to him gush about you in interviews. You want him to show you off. 
“Sweetheart? Are you okay?” he asks. He must’ve sensed you going abnormally still and quiet. 
You pull back and look at him, worry written on his face. What you want to tell him is on the tip of your tongue. But you can’t bring yourself to do it. 
“I’m fine,” you lie. 
“Okay,” he says, cupping your face again. “We should probably get showered and dressed. I have no idea how long we’ve been in here.”
“Right,” you nod, pulling yourself off of him no matter how hard it is. You reach for your clothes and walk into the shower. He does the same and turns off the sauna. You turn on the water, letting steam fill the walk-in shower before getting inside. He gets in with you, chest pressed against your back. He grabs the bottle of shower gel and creates a lather in his hand, rubbing it up and down your body as you relax. He’s careful to not ruin your makeup like a true gentleman. Once you’re clean you do the same for him, washing each other in comfortable silence. The end looms over your head but you choose not to focus on it. You choose to focus on the few fleeting moments you have left. 
He turns off the water and grabs a towel, helping you dry off and get dressed. And soon enough, you’re both dressed again as if what happened in the sauna never occurred, except for your makeup that’s a little sweat-ridden. Before you part ways he kisses you, soft and sweet, telling you good night before slipping back out into the party. 
You grab your purse off the couch and remember the envelope Emil gave you. Now that you’re alone you open it, finding a handwritten card that says;
Just wanted to say thank you. You really saved our asses with this production. As a token of my gratitude, here are two tickets to The Man From Deadhorse premiere. 
-Emil
The two tickets slip out of the card. You glance at the date and see it’s not until January of next year, four months from now. Regardless, that was nice of him. When you signed up to work on the film you never thought you’d be able to attend the premiere. Your stomach swirls at the thought of seeing Cooper all dressed up on the red carpet but then it sinks when you remember he’ll be with Barb. 
You shove the envelope and the tickets back in your purse, glancing at the room once more. Once you turn off the light, you leave the pool house, dragging your feet as you walk back to your car. The reality of the situation is sinking in now– that was probably the last time you’ll see Cooper for a while. And maybe it’s the alcohol or the post-sex hormones talking but you could break down and cry at any given moment. But you don’t give in until you’re alone in the comfort of your car, cursing the man who welcomed you with open arms on your first day on set. 
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End note: This series is five parts now because I’m an indecisive idiot 🤧🤧 This is also some of my favorite smut I’ve ever written?!?!? And thank you to @clawdee for beta reading and telling me I needed to make Cooper sweatier 😏
If you like my work, consider supporting me on Ko-fi 🤍
Check out the series playlist! 🎶
Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics
Dividers: @saradika-graphics
Tag list: @widowmakerow @bisasterbisexual @wowitsem @vegetarianvamp @celestial-vomit @ghoulsimper @anyzandy @justfoxymuffins @hobnob2020 @fallout-girl219 @ipostwhtifeel @awhoresjourney @the-faceless-bride @birdieofloxley @raviolisenpai
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marlynnofmany · 2 days
Text
Paws in a Circle
There’s a poster I saw once, back on Earth, that had a silhouette of a bear with deer antlers, and it was labeled “Beer.” I had forgotten about it completely until I met our newest client, who by that logic was definitely a beer.
I’d already done my part of the interaction by carrying out one of the heavier boxes, so while the captain went over the delivery fees with her, I was free to stare politely and decide which other Earth animals she resembled. (Fur coloring more like a red fox, and semi-upright posture that was less bear and more extinct giant ground sloth.)
I was so focused on watching the client handle the datapad with her giant paws that I completely missed it when the hovercar behind her sprung a fuel leak.
Paint saw it, though. “Oh! Your car!” she yelped, pointing. “I’ll get Mimi!” She was off in a flash of orange scales, back into the ship in search of our mechanic.
The client growled a swear word that didn’t translate, shoved the datapad back at Captain Sunlight, then galloped over to her car. While I expected her to throw open the hood in search of the part that was leaking, she instead made a beeline for the back seat.
When she threw open that door, I saw why.
“Kids! Out of the car! It’s not safe!”
A half dozen bundles of spotted yellow fur tumbled out, making distressed noises that didn’t need translating. They had tiny little antler buds and very big eyes.
Captain Sunlight was busy talking to someone through her communicator, probably Mimi. I stood there uselessly by the packages. What did I know about fuel leaks? Nothing helpful. I knew the puddle was growing by the second, and was probably flammable, but that was about it. And this backwater spaceport barely had an information booth, much less a local response team.
The client ushered her cubs over to where we stood just as Mimi and Paint returned. Blip and Blop followed with a big toolbox carried between them. Mimi was already taking charge and waving tentacles about, talking to the captain about the lack of reliable repair shops this far in the boonies, telling Blip and Blop how best to use their muscles in opening up the engine, and reassuring the customer that this was fine, actually, that model hovercar had a known issue with the fuel lines.
When the client dithered over minding her cubs and being present for the repairs, Captain Sunlight pointed a scaly yellow hand at me. “Our human can keep your little ones entertained. Bring them over here.”
“Uh,” I said.
Captain Sunlight looked up at me, still talking to the client. “She has extensive experience in tending to small furry creatures.”
I wanted to say that veterinarian training and childcare were two very different things, but I wasn’t about to make the captain look bad. And knowing Mimi, this would be quick.
The client said, “Thank you. Kids, you need to stay over here, okay? Next to these boxes, but don’t touch. Listen to the tall one. I’ll be right there helping fix the car.”
The tiny-voiced replies were recognizable words in the most common trade language, though their pronunciation made me clock them at around three or four years old in human years. They were very cute.
And they were suddenly my responsibility, all looking up at me like spotted teddy bears while the rest of the adults fretted about the car.
The questions were immediate.
“What are you?”
“Where’s your fur?”
“Did you lose it because you ate the wrong thing? Mommy says we have to eat our vi’mins so our fur doesn’t fall out.”
“Is this instead of fur?”
I freed the tiny paws tugging at my pants. “I’m not supposed to have fur. I’m a human. And yes, I wear clothes to keep me warm instead.”
“It looks funny.”
“Do you have to brush it?”
“Do you know any games?”
I brightened at that. “Games! Sure, I know some games.” I wracked my brain for something that would keep them entertained without causing new problems. “What kind of games do you like to play?”
They all answered at once in an avalanche of words, bouncing around in excitement, with a couple grabbing each other’s fur to keep from falling over. I couldn’t make out a thing they were saying. But I had the beginning of an idea.
“Do you like dancing in a circle?” I asked.
They had no idea what I was talking about, and possibly no understanding of basic shapes yet. Three of them spun in place while the others waved their arms.
“First you stand in a circle, like this,” I said, sketching out the shape in midair. “Here. You stand here, then you there…” With some gentle nudging — they were so soft — I soon had them arranged in something like a circle. “Now hold hands with the person next to you.”
I was a little concerned that their paws weren’t suited to this, since they had long blunt claws already and didn’t look very dexterous, but they managed. With lots of giggling and hopping in place.
“Now everybody step to the side, in this direction.” I ushered them into a clockwise rotation, nice and slow (and giggling), with no risk of any little fluffy heads bonking onto the spaceship landing pad. It took them a second, then they got the rhythm without tripping over their own feet.
Then they unanimously spun faster, hopping and laughing with squeals and barks that were probably making more than one adult turn to stare. I don’t know; I kept my eyes on the littles. My arms were out and ready in case somebody stumbled and brought the whole circle crashing down.
But no one did. The half dozen youngsters wheeled and spun, bouncing with glee and showing no sign of stopping.
“That’s new,” rumbled a voice behind me. I tried not to flinch when I looked up at the mama bear. Beer. Whatever. She asked, “Is that an activity from your planet?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Pretty basic, and it seemed good for kids.”
The antlered head nodded. “Looks like valuable practice at coordination, as well as teamwork. There are a few adults I know who could benefit from that.”
Images flashed through my head of huge antlered bear aliens doing ring-around-the-rosie as a corporate teambuilding exercise. And professional athletes trying to improve their footwork. “Yeah, they probably could. And it’s a fun bit of community bonding time.”
Mama Bear nodded. “Okay children, the car is fixed,” she announced. “Time to go home.”
The cubs made the exact same disappointed noises as human kids. Even when their mother waded in and picked them up one by one to urge them towards the car, they didn’t want to stop playing. They grabbed hands in pairs and spun off that way, even faster than before. I did have to catch one fuzzy little teddy toddler, who just laughed about it and hopped around some more.
Peripheral vision told me the rest of the crew was helping move the packages into the hovercar’s storage space and mop up the last of the fuel. Overheard conversation told me that the good captain had tactfully gotten us a bonus payment for the mechanical assistance. I couldn’t tell if childcare was part of that, and I didn’t ask. I just focused on herding the excitable youngsters back to their car, where thankfully they all knew how to get into the safety harnesses without help.
Mama Bear closed the door. “Thank you for everything,” she said, directing that at me as well as Captain Sunlight. “I will recommend your services highly to anyone who asks. And we will probably need more deliveries soon, once we get the new house set up, so perhaps we will see you again!”
Captain Sunlight nodded. “Perhaps so. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”
I waved goodbye to the kids, who had found the button to open the window and were just as excitable as ever. “See you later! Maybe next time I can teach you the Hokey Pokey. That’s big on my planet.”
~~~
These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.
Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.
The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).
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selineram3421 · 3 days
Text
*wishing I could breathe underwater* Man..
Other Worldly
Part 3
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Part 2
Alastor X Shy Reader
Warnings ⚠
⚠ selectively mute reader, Italics=thoughts, shaking head= no, signing-ASL, Alastor being weird ⚠
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"Let's make a deal~"
You froze.
All you could do was stare at the Radio Demon's red eyes with panic.
He heard me sing again. Why? I thought I was being careful. I made sure to be far away from the others. I checked the room!
"Now, now. There's no need for you to cry.", he said, brushing away a tear that was beginning to fall down your cheek.
Shaking your head side to side, you shoved your way out of his hold and glared at him.
"What do you want.", you spoke. "Tell me the truth."
You saw the way your hypnosis made his eyes glaze over. It was like a fog clouding his sight with swirls of green.
"I want you to sing for me.", he answered.
It took you by surprise.
No one wanted to get hypnotized, it was uncomfortable and made others on edge. You didn't like making anyone feel like that.
"Why?", you asked.
"I enjoy it. Your voice is not only hypnotizing, but it is absolutely lovely.", he confessed.
Your eyes widened and you turned away from the deer demon to hide your blush.
He didn't have to say all that. You thought and covered your smile mouth.
Then you felt a clawed hand on your shoulder.
.
"Sing for me...", Alastor began, circling the mer like a shark. "..and I'll give you the option of controlling that ability of yours."
He stopped just behind them and leaned in close to whisper in their ear.
"You'll be able to communicate normally."
They flinched away but he held them still by placing his hands on their upper arms.
"Think about it my dear~", he leaned his head against theirs. "It's quite the deal."
The selectively mute demon was stiff in his hold, but he didn't want that.
"I just want to listen to you sing, nothing else.", he reassured. "And you'll get to use a private open space to sing."
"An open space?", they parroted.
His smile widened as the familiar daze took over.
I've got them~
"It's free for you to use.", he said as soon as the hypnosis wore off.
"What's the catch?", they asked.
"The only catch is on my end. I don't own your soul.", he replied.
To them it wasn't a bother, but to him it meant that he couldn't keep them. It was a step to making them more comfortable around him however.
Then they started to move their head, causing him to lift his off of their's.
With a glance over their shoulder, they look at him with a shy expression.
"Can I see it?", they asked quietly.
It took a while for him to come back, the hypnotism really was a bother.
"Certainly."
With a snap of his fingers, the two demons appeared in a different area, the Radio Demon paid close attention to the siren's face as they took in their surroundings. Seeing their eyes sparkle was enough of an answer for him.
"Do we have a deal?", he asked, patiently waiting with his hand outstretched.
"I have some things to add before accepting.", they turned to face him.
"And what are your demands?", he asked after a bit, curious.
"I will sing for you once a week.", the mer said.
"Once a day.", he threw in his own.
Their brows furrowed. "Once a week.", they repeated.
"In order for this deal to work, I need to be able to hear you sing everyday, at least once to let you use your powers as you wish.", he explained.
It was a lie but they didn't need to know that.
"I'd like to be alone when using this space.", they moved on.
"Are the shadows free to roam here? They will be near to help you if anything.", he questioned. "Of course, I will only show myself around here if I need to call on you or emergencies."
"I-. Hm..", they started but then thought more about what he said. "That's fine.. As long as the shadows don't bother me."
"Splendid!", his smile widened.
"And stop trying to scare me.", they said with a frown.
He blinked and laughed.
"Hahaha!", he wiped a tear from his eye. "Is that all?"
They nodded before shaking their head no.
"This deal stays between us. No one else has to know about it.", they said before lifting their hand, ready to shake on it.
"Very well my dear, it's a deal.", he took their hand and completed the deal.
While the familiar green wisps of magic floated around in the air, something came up from the siren's throat and they began to cough. They covered their mouth with their free hand, coughing even more before something glowing yellow came out and into their hand.
"Well, that's new.", was all he said before taking the yellow glowing ball from their hand. "I suppose you wouldn't mind if I kept this half somewhere safe?", he glanced back at them.
They shook their head, holding their throat with a slight pained expression.
"Alright then.", he said and swallowed the glowing ball.
"WHY!?", they said in shock before hissing in pain.
"I'm not going to leave something like this in a box, and the safest place is with me, obviously.", he explained and finally let go of their hand. "Now, try not to speak too much. I can see that taking out half of your voice hurt more than I thought it would."
The mer nodded and rubbed their throat.
.
You didn't expect him to eat it.
That was weird and a little gross. You thought as you rubbed your throat.
"You'll start tomorrow.", he spoke up and started to walk off.
Before thinking it through, you had grabbed the sleeve of his coat.
He looked back and you furrowed your brows as you moved your hand with your index finger up, side to side. (Where?)
"Are you saying no? To what?", he asked.
You rolled your eyes and took his hand, facing his palm up while tracing what you wanted to say with your finger. (Where are you going?)
"To the front of my hotel room of course."
It took you a second to process what the deer demon just said.
HIS WHAT!?
The red dressed demon just grins, and pulls you along with him, walking between the trees and to a spot that is split in half of greenery and a slightly dark room, the only bright source of light coming from the fireplace.
He let you go and opened the hotel door for you. "I'll let you go now, do come by tomorrow. I wish to hear your lovely singing in the morning."
You didn't really hear what he said, just walked out of the room with slight annoyance.
Can't take it back now. I already made the deal. You sighed and walked over to the elevator down the hallway. At least I'll be able to talk to the others a bit.
Maybe this deal wasn't the worst..but he could have told you that the "free open space" was half of his room.
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*vibrating in excitement* It's MerMay 🦀
~Seline, the person.
Part 4
Taglist@
@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @nonetheartist @gallantys @i-3at-kidz @luxky-aish @ceafighter @xalygatorx @xangel-8 @big-brother-problems @mistpurpl3 @chewbrry @willowbrookhoot @briethekitsune @+?
(The rest of the taglist is in the comments)
ML I Alastor 🎙️ | OW ChL🦀
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a-doubleh-x · 3 days
Text
Buttonblossom Analysis in TADC Episode 2
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(Background rainbows: hint, hint)
Ragatha was so sweet to Pomni in episode 2 🥺💖 Most people caught onto the obvious fact that Raggs is being codependant and leans onto toxic positivity on the way she tries to cheer up Pomni, but I still think for the most part her heart is in the right place.
I liked their dynamic in episode 1, but I liked it so much in 2 I decided to write a little analysis on it (plus the ship fuel 👀) in preparation for the romance fic I'm writing about them.
Without further ado, let's go!
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Looking back at Ragatha, on the good side, she made some very strong, active efforts to help her during her transition into the digital realm. She checked first thing in the morning if she was okay, she tried to make her feel included in the adventure at the beginning and showed care for her safety overall.
My favorite scene, though, is when the circus gang falls into the fudge river and after checking in on them, the first thing she says is: "Poor Pomni!" 😭 Girlie is so empathetic she even manages to care for someone who's not even there, while she's in a terrible situation herself!
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I think this proves how much of a good person Raggs is. She doesn't just help people to feel good or superior, she does it because she geniuenly cares for other people's wellbeing and I find that very noble 😊
On the negative side, she seems to have some very particular communication issues with Pomni, even though she seems to be the circus memeber she cares the most about at the moment.
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For starters, her attitude comes off as a little condescending very often. She hardly asks questions to Pomni and tends to assume for her. She hardly acknowledges some of her struggles and tries to downplay them, like when she degrades their experience as "larping". Also, she makes Pomni feel like a child when she tries to "hype her up" in her own words.
If we take Pomni's nightmare into consideration, it seems she believes Ragatha thinks Pomni is not "cut out for it", which might be a result of her condescending behavior I just mentioned.
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This makes sense to me and also sheds a little bit of light on how Pomni sees herself as: small and insignificant. It's unclear at the moment how she was before on the physical world, but I speculate based on this evidence she probably didn't think she had much agency in her life (just how she feels in the circus).
At the end, however, thanks to her experience with Gummigoo and looking at the crew grief over Kaufmo's abstraction, Pomni opens herself more to the crew, which is a very good sign.
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I think her current dynamic with Ragatha is wicked cool! ✨️ There's a lot of room for growth, which is good in my opinion. Ragatha clearly cares a lot about Pomni and I think with time she could grow to reciprocate her as well.
Despite her cowardness in episode 1, I always had the feeling that Pomz was deep down a caring individual as well, which was solidly proven in 2 with her interactions with Gummi.
On the fanon side, I saw a lot of fans foaming at the mouth (myself included) over the fact that Ragatha was such a tryhard with Pomni (which was anticipated to be the contrary). Some fans have interpreted their potential dynamics as both being shy, which I really, really like.
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I believe I will definitely include that in my future fanfic. Another idea I wanted to explore is Pomni talking to Ragatha about her overbearing issues, while still appreciating her good qualities at the same time.
I think it's going to be great ☺️❤ I already look forward to what the end result is going to be. I love mutual pining and I love sweet lesbians caring for each other (even when they're silly girlfails). I'm planning to start by submitting chapter 1 by next Friday and submit a new one every following one, as I've done before.
Get ready for digital lesbian shenanigans 🎪💙🎀 See ya!
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tiredfox64 · 23 hours
Note
Hello, good afternoon, it's my first time doing this XD could you make a gn!lector x trio lin kuei? the brothers showing affection to the reader in their different love languages
Love is Many Things
Prior notes: I did headcanon type of way cause that was just simpler for me to do :P. Hope this is okay for you!
Pairings: Lin Kuei Bros x Gn reader
Warnings ‼️: None now stop contacting me about financial aid!
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Bi-Han
Hear me out ladies, gents, and non binaries.
Physical affection!
If he loves you he will be touchy and you better be touchy as well.
He is a touch starved fella you need to at least hold his face.
He will hold you but that is also out of possession.
Sit on his lap, go ahead, don’t be shy.
Fine he’ll drag you on. Don’t tell him you are too heavy he doesn’t want to hear it.
Hugging you from behind while he rest his head on your shoulders, classic move.
He pinches. Yeah…what do you mean what do I mean?
If there is any part of you that is squishy (cheeks, thigh, arm) he pinches it but not on purpose. It’s in the manner like a grandma coming to squeeze your face but she does it too harshly.
Cuddles in bed, no you may not leave. Unless you are bleeding or need to use the bathroom then you can leave.
If he is holding your hand he will start to lightly rub his thumb over your hand.
He’s a man of action not words so take his lovin in physical form.
Kuai Liang
Words of affirmation!
I have a feeling sometimes he is poetic with his words.
Whispers in your ear as you fall asleep. Tell you how fantastic you are and how lucky he is to have you in his life.
“Death can never separate us. You are mine and I am yours. We are eternally together. It is our destiny.”
If he is far from you he will send letters.
I just know he has decent cursive. Not good just decent.
Compliments you on everything.
He will always find a way to compliment your looks. It could be something simple like your hair is glorious to your eyebrows are well kept.
If you have any skills he will compliment that to.
He encourages anything and everything you do. Go into a hobby that may seem strange to him but if it makes you happy go right ahead.
He is always willing to talk to you whether it be an issue in the relationship or just something you want to say that seems important.
Communication is key he makes that a big point. Tell him if there is anything wrong. He will tell you if something is wrong.
You will have a personalized nickname that fits you. You feisty? Fire lily! You happy? Sunflower! You angry? Ember! He will always add ‘his’ before it.
Tomas
Gift Giving!
We don’t know where he gets the money to purchase everything for you, he might be stealing.
It starts off simple with giving you a smooth rock like a penguin does.
It elevates to bouquets, crystals, food, etc.
The max is when he is buying you everything you love or even take a glance at.
Oh so you like Hello Kitty? BAM! Hawaiian Hello Kitty plushie the size of your bed. A Lego fan huh? BOOM! Millennium falcon set.
It’s easier to accept it because if you don’t he gives you that sad face that crushes your soul.
He will bring you something back from whatever mission he is on. Again that could be a smooth stone or a vintage watch. Whatever he can scavenge for.
He always has this wide grin on his face when he hands you a gift or when he tries to hide it behind his back.
Sorry not sorry you’re gaining relationship weight because he keeps buying you food.
He likes buying you clothes. Some of his choice seems to be more for him than you wink wink nudge nudge.
He’ll be asking you nonstop if you need something so he can buy it for you.
“I saw it and thought of you.” That’s the best thing to hear.
All of em
I’m not done yet.
Ooo someone stop me I never stop with having all of them.
As a combined effort they do acts of service.
Of course they are going to protect their precious partner. If someone even scratched you they would be in a ditch.
Heaven forbid you get sick, they gonna take care of you in every way they can. You need some Vic’s vaporub?
You tired after the long day? Let them draw you a bath and get you some nice clothes before putting you to bed.
They’ll cook for you. Well, Kuai Liang and Tomas will. Bi-Han got agitated one time cause he burned his finger on the handle and ended up throwing the pan out the window. Never again.
Surprise dates! Yippie!
Sigh I’m involving children again.
They are all helping out with the kids. It’s okay to take a shower they will watch over them.
I’m counting a group cuddle as an act of service. It would be service to me.
After notes: I think I might post my oc real soon. I know I’ve done it before and I end up deleting it but I’ll try to keep it up next time. Now I need to shower. Adiós!
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faeriekit · 16 hours
Text
Health and Hybrids (XXII)👽👻💚
[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]
🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.
💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)
Where we last left off... SOMEONE (Danny) had a PANIC ATTACK (it was warranted) and now he's laying low and trying not to move.
Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.
💚👻👽👻💚
There’s a green guy in his room.
Danny keeps eating his mush. There’s mush apple in it today, for variety. It’s probably triple-pasteurized applesauce, but it’s something, and Danny’ll appreciate it while it lasts.
The green guy and the lady are talking. Danny is happy to ignore them—they’re quiet, and careful, even if they’re trying not to act too suspicious or too quiet. Danny has the sneaking suspicion that he’s supposed to be getting used to his presence. Like a cat meeting another cat, or something.
The thing is, Danny kind of remembers him—but his brain’s been so loopy and weird, it’s kind of…hard to be certain? There are some memories of pain, and some memories of stress, and…maybe he was there for one of his star-walks? Danny thinks?
His memories are all mush. Since waking up here, Danny’s been more confused the more he’s become aware.
He sticks his spoon in his mouth.
Hello, the green guy tries, flexing some oddly solid aura, but Danny’s very busily ignoring him; the television has another news segment on weather in places Danny’s never seen, and he’s trying really hard to remember what the extra letters actually sound like.
There’s, like, an ampersand in the middle of words here. What the hell is that supposed to mean?
I would like to talk, the not-ghost says without speaking, which is how Danny knows he’s not human. He doesn’t feel like a ghost, per se, and Danny’s breath is normal and as warm as his body can arrange it. It’s still weird though, since he clearly wants to communicate in some way, and Danny just.
He digs his teeth into the plastic spoon. It’ll leave little tooth-shaped dents. He focuses very firmly on the television spot. There are so many towns. Some of them have very silly names. One of them is having an asteroid shower, if Danny trusts his understanding of the icons they’re using.
Asteroids are cool. There’s a couple shots of the sky and a projected time at 8pm in some time zone. Maybe he can get the fast kid to tell his medical team he wants to see them. Maybe they’ll actually let him out of his room at night to watch…?
A hand gently fans at his sleeve so that the breeze jostles the fabric just a little bit. It’s a signal Danny’s gotten used to—a non-verbal, attention-grabbing signal that doesn’t require physical touch.
Danny looks. The lady waves.
He huffs.
“Licie,” the lady asks gently, but firmly. It’s a pretty insistent Please.
Please be polite with the guests, Danny. Your father loves Vlad, so please be nice, Danny.
…Danny doesn’t quite roll his eyes but he does. Look away. He doesn’t want to talk to them. Boundaries aren’t so… Empathic beings are…
“Do I have to?” he asks, and then remembers. Right. Different language. “Ic sceal?”
“Licie. Pleese.”
Danny’s face scrunches up. All the scarring his face probably has pulls taut. “…’Kay.”
“Min þanc.” Thanks.
Danny…reluctantly…faces the green guy.
He looks. Nice. Enough. He’d look better if he wasn’t staring—if Danny couldn’t physically feel how heavy the green guy’s attention was weighing down on him, pressing into his head and shoulders and neck, and—
Danny looks away. Again. The lady sighs.
The green guy sends waves of peace, calm, which is definitely a threat! Danny’s been smacked by Nocturn more than once! He knows what safety feels like when wielded as a weapon!
Apology wafts around the room, but Danny doesn’t want to hear it. Feel it. Smell it? Whatever. It has nothing to do with him. Danny wants to fiddle with the bits of his space station and maybe practice writing his name again, which has so far been less than a success. But he should probably introduce himself soon enough.
It’s only been. You know. …Literal months.
Questions and answers/queries and information? the green guy offers to trade, which is theoretically nice. But Danny’s been hunted for answers before—and sometimes just straight up hunted for fun.
There’s no information he wants to give.
Ask me? comes instead.
…Danny’s fingers still. Wait. He’s allowed to ask?
A bubble of amusement/worry bursts. Yes. If Danny has questions, he can apparently…ask.
Okay. Danny sets the space shuttle aside. He tilts his aura around, and bends it—if the green guy were a ghost, they’d be able to share more emotions with ­Danny’s guard slipped downwards. He’s going to bet it works…kind of the same way for whatever he is.
Who’s the lady? Does she have a name?
There’s a bubble burst of a memory—some dude in all black with little cat ears announcing This is Wonder Woman, hand out to present her to the listener. Without her scrubs on in the memory, she looks…like a warrior.
Armored. Strong. Black hair, gold gauntlets and red boots. Firm back. Like on the television
…In her scrubs, she just looks like the same lady as always. In his head, she looks as powerful and mighty as Pandora.
Danny’s heart picks up. Breathing becomes—harder. Does she fight? Does she fight all the time?
Memories of shared battles play out from the green being’s point of view: punching and throwing and whipping her lasso in the air and confidence and freeing prisoners and the power of the gods behind her, a royal in her own right—
…Will Danny have to fight?
The green guy murmurs something sad, grief flashing up against Danny’s low emotional shields. His hands reach out—but Danny leans back. He doesn’t want to be touched. He doesn’t want to feel the dude feeling bad for him. He just wants to know; will Danny be forced to fight?
There’s a deep, painful sympathy brushing up against him. Danny recoils. The thoughts of healing, doctors, naps, coming off his meds, recovery. Of concern, worry, Wonder Woman settling the patient’s blankets, his green-marred face raw and luminescent.
Healing. Resting.
Which. Danny glares. He gets that. But what happens after? Medical care is expensive, and Danny doesn’t even have hint of an idea of how long he’s been lying here. He knows that nothing comes free.
The green guy’s expression squeezes with concern. His head might be kind of funky-shaped, but the face is pretty human equivalent. Danny would have struggled to read Frostbite’s more than his. Danny doesn’t like that.
Danny misses beings he recognizes. He wants his friends. He wants Jazz. He wants Frostbite or Wulf or…or…
…Or Mom…or Dad…
Something touches Danny’s hand. Danny looks down. The green hand that reaches for him doesn’t grab, exactly, but it lets him know that the dude is there, at his side. I’m sorry, the guy says, more sentiment than thought. And then there’s a struggle to convey the next few thoughts.
…Because the guy doesn’t have as much experience of being outside as the school bell rings, children going in. Lunches in the headquarters cafeteria. The phone in Flash’s hand turned sideways, so that Martian Manhunter can see the dead-fish kiss between Rosalinda and Romero from last night's episode—
Wait, is the guy actually an alien? It’s kind of rude, but Danny. Gawks.
The concern hanging around in the air of the room turns into green-tinged amusement. The green dude and Danny have already had this conversation.
…Danny peeks at his water bottle on the side table and sheepishly rubs his nose. Ah. Whoops. They have?
Yes, the alien continues, and pulls his hand back. But they were having a conversation. About school. And healing. And recovering, and a comfortable space to rest, and an apartment on Earth and peace and family, and—
Danny shoves his emotional shields all the way back up before he. Before he forgets. His heart is pounding. He can’t look.
He can’t.
He.
…He can’t have that again.
The green guy—the martian wants to tell Danny something else, but he can’t—he can’t open himself up to that anymore.
Danny doesn’t have a mom anymore. Danny doesn’t have a dad anymore. His sister is—gone. He’s not going to hurt himself for wanting them back. There's no family and no house and no safety.
There are more quiet, empathetic presses against Danny’s emotions, but Danny pulls the covers up as high as they’ll go, and breathes through the thin cotton sheet pressed against his face.
It catches his tears, when he has them.
Someone mutters, and someone else mutters back. When Danny feels something touch his wrist through the cotton blanket, he can’t help flinching, but the speaker’s voice is familiar enough that he settles quickly enough. Danny listens to the lady—Wonder Woman, he remembers—hum softly.
…It’s a nice hum.
She hums, and she strokes his wrist, and she doesn’t go anywhere. She’s a stalwart, soft presence at his side.
It’s nice.
It's... Relatively, it's safe.
Danny eventually stops acting like a baby, and. Takes the sheet off. He isn’t crying, so there aren’t and tears to wipe away (there’s no need to check the footage, just believe him!), but it takes him a second to get himself reoriented to the room without a giant psychic presence in it.
But the whole time, the lady just…rubs his wrist, and then his mildly obliterated (but mostly healed!) hand. And hums. And lets Danny reorient himself, at his own pace, and in a safe space.
 Danny sniffles. He hopes it’s all mucus in his sinus cavity, and not, like, more ecto. But who knows?
The lady tilts her head forward, until Danny can see the blue eyes peeking over her lavender surgical mask. Her hand comes to her chest to tap against the paper-thin PPE covering her top half.
“Wonder Woman,” the lady says, firmly and clearly. “Diana.”
…That’s a name. Danny’s nose scrunches. That's a human name. That's a very recognizable, extremely culturally familiar human name.
They never introduced themselves, right?
Maybe…well… He is in space. Maybe he’s far enough away that no one will know him if he says his name.
(Or maybe Mom won’t want him back anyway, even if she found him.)
And there’s probably a million black-haired kids named Daniel, anyway. It’s a biblical name. These people don’t even speak English or Esperanto, or anything else Danny knows; so maybe it’s. Safe?
And…maybe Danny just wants to hear his name said again.
“D…”
The lady frowns, and then eases closer. Danny—gently—tugs on a lock of her hair until she lowers, and his mouth can reach her ear.
“D’nny,” Daniel James Fenton whispers into Wonder Woman’s ear.
Diana raises herself back upright. Her eyes are wet.
“Danny,” she repeats back to him. Her callused hands gently take both of Danny’s scarred and lumpy ones. “Wel mete.”
*
“He believes that we are going to require his presence in combat as payment for his recovery,” J’onn reports diligently, and stuffs his trepidation deep into his countenance.
The league around him groans.
*
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fairuzfan · 2 days
Note
do you think some people who currently identify as israeli would be able to go back to identifying as palestinian jews in a free palestine? i think it would probably be a small minority tbqh but i think it may be possible esp among antizionists / those who dont id w the "israeli" label already and among those descended from pre-settler palestinian jews
I mean it depends on their relationship with zionism imo more than how they identify. If they're a hardline zionist they're probably not going to want to not be Israeli. But there probably are jews who are legally considered Israeli bit personally identify as Palestinian or at least *not* israeli. A person who comes to mind is hadar Cohen who identifies as an Arab jew.
But also I want to say the binary of communities between "arab" and "jew" is also not accurate because there are Palestinian communities who aren't Arab but still consider themselves Palestinian. So that's why I genuinely don't understand why israeli has to be a separate identity because no Palestinian in '48, or at least very few, would be willing to give up their Palestinian identity or self determination as a palestinian because that means giving up your ancestral history and that's what makes a lot of Palestinians keep going. We look at our grandparents and great grandparents and the horrors they had to face and we think "we have to bring them justice." Part of that is not abandoning "Palestine".
You didn't say that last part it's just a point I wanted to touch on.
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desceros · 22 hours
Text
in light of recent events in this fandom, i am no longer going to accept fic or headcanon requests until further notice.
disgust at the actions in this community have sapped my creativity and desire to publish my fics. hurt and anger have made me unwilling to participate in this fandom. disappointment in others makes me question if i want to even continue interacting here, knowing the dark underbelly i've seen of people from whom i expected better.
however, i have close friends that i know are eager to share in the stories in my head, and i do still want to participate in this fandom. i like seeing art. i like reading others' stories. i like laughing with people about funny headcanons. it doesn't feel fair to punish people who love my stories and respected my boundaries because of the actions of a few selfish individuals. i'm not going to deprive myself of things i love because of the selfish, immoral acts of others.
however, my trust has been violated. and i don't take lightly to this.
i'm going to delete all anon requests that are currently in my askbox and i will not be filling any of them. i can no longer trust that they were not sent in by minors, or people who don't see any issue with minors interacting with adults in fandom.
in the possible event that i do decide to open requests again—heavy, heavy emphasis on if—i will not accept any from anonymous senders. this trust has been broken, and it will never return.
that said, i have decided after much deliberation to keep my inbox open. i love this community that we've built together. i love hearing what parts of my fics made you excited, or which ones made you scream with frustration. i love getting song recommendations. i love getting art.
i have also decided that i'm not going to delete any of the requests i've already filled, anonymous or not. i'm very passionate about information archival, and it feels wrong of me to eradicate my art on behalf of the behavior of others. but those will be the last anonymous requests i will ever fill.
thank you for understanding, and thank you everyone for helping me make this a safe place for everyone.
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Text
We need to talk about this
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because Yuuri's reaction in this scene is a result of his anxiety disorder and his tendency to self-deprecation and having depressive thoughts, and that he ends up here is being carefully foreshadowed throughout the series:
First, Viktor said a couple of things that made Yuuri believe that Viktor only wants to coach him until the GPF:
This
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and this
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is enough to convince and anxious person like Yuuri that Viktor has no intention to coach him beyond the GPF. Note that Viktor never explicitly states that he will coach Yuuri only for the first half of the season - it's the natural conclusion an anxious brain will draw. And that's neither Viktor's nor Yuuri's fault.
And then this, while Yuuri is within hearing distance:
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I'm getting a queasy feeling in my stomach just from watching this scene because I relate to Yuuri so much. If I had eavesdropped on this interview, I would have freaked out internally. Like what does that even mean? Is he talking about his career or is this a carefully crafted answer to convince the press to leave him and Yuuri alone for the next couple of weeks? This secret is probably between Viktor and the YOI creators alone (I have theories, but I'm not going to discuss them here because this post is about Yuuri).
Second, although he becomes more confident throughout the show, the self-deprecating part of Yuuri has a low opinion about his own skating. From his perspective, his contribution to the sport seems less valuable than Viktor's, even when he starts to understand that he's far more than a dime-a-dozen skater. The realisation that he is as least as talented as Viktor, only drives home the moment he breaks Viktor's world record.
Because Yuuri has such a low opinion of himself, he doesn't understand how much Viktor enjoys watching him skate, which is another aspect factoring into his decision.
Third, Yuuri genuinely believes that Viktor wants to return to the ice and would rejoice when Yuuri retires. Having seen Viktor watch the other skaters at the GPF cements the decision he made at the Rostelecom Cup. The fact that basically everyone has told him throughout the last 11 episodes that he's keeping Viktor from skating gives more weight to the idea.
Yes, you got that right. Yuuri deided to retire, before he proposed to Viktor and before he bought two matching rings and put one of them on Viktor's finger. However, now Yuuri knows that Viktor would coach him for as long as Yuuri wants to keep skating, which forces him to release Viktor from his duties at the point he believes Viktor wanted to stop coaching him initially.
Yuuri is not breaking up. He's releasing Viktor as his coach. He is sacrificing his career so that Viktor can keep pursuing his own career which Viktor once sacrificed for him.
Of course he's surprised that Viktor bursts out in tears.
Yuuri has the right to retire whenever he wants. He doesn't need to consult Viktor. If he thinks (for whichever stupid reason) it's time, he can make this decision on his own.
Is it selfish?
Lol no. Only Viktor thinks it is because he's conflating the coach and the partner and takes it personally. He's hurt and feels rejected because he doesn't understand that Yuuri did it for him and that causes a drama Yuuri was not prepared for.
Is it stupid?
Absolutely. But poor communication skills, Yuuri is too caught up in his mental issues to even think of having a discussion that would lead them to a solution with which both would be happy (both training in St. Petersburg *wink* *wink*). It's not malice, insensitivity, or shitty behaviour that drives Yuuri to this point. It's all about his mental issues. And love.
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