kalashtars · 9 months ago
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current state of politics really got me swerving wildly between "yes I want to present as a man" and "oh god is this even worth it maybe I'm not even really trans" and it's bringing me to my limit
#damien.txt#sorry its like 5 am and i havent slept and wanna vent so. here inam#i really do be having a wild time bc ill have like. weeks at a time where ill be like. wait a second. what if im not trans actually#okay well. never in a 'im 100% not trans' way but in a 'maybe i shouldnt transition' way#and then ill have a day where i wake up and go. oh. i think that feeling is just coming from fear about. the current state of trans issues#because oh my FUCKING GOD am i scared like 24/7 bc of that shit#and so like. then im like. maybe i really am like. actually transmasc. fr. bc i like. literally have been feeling it my whole life.#and then i wake up a couple weeks later back at the beginning like hmm....... but..... what if....#and im so tired of not knowing!! it's fucking exhausting questioning what the fuck is happening w me every 2 seconds#and im being dramatic abt it but idk. i think its a symptom of neurodivergence or something bc im like. so so scared abt being trans atm#at a level that is. certainly unhealthy.#and it really feels like something that is inhibiting me from doing things in life which is like. upsetting y'know!#but at the same time. the concept of going thru life as my birth gender is... bad. sort of inconceivable at this point.#and this is particularly hard bc like. really going back and forth on making decisions abt taking T. bc when i get in these spirals#abt maybe not being trans. i get the urge to not take it. but like. i cant fluctuate w a medicine like that that much!#but at the same time when i go back to being like oh yeah transmasc... my brain is like cool. take T again. so. fuck me i guess.#idk man. im just like. i just want to live my life without being perceived by others actually#my true gender is no one's business <3 thanks#i am. tired.
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orchideae · 11 months ago
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In today's episode of 'Sae, do you (...)': the topic of Ningguang and Yelan, and I thought that I should note my opinion more clearly outside of my rules as it's very important information for my portrayal: I do not ship Ningguang and Yelan romantically.
Honestly, while this is of course my own opinion, I don't find that there's anything to really substantiate a romantic interest between the two. For starters, I don't think that Ning, as interesting of a character as she is with a past that might just be similar in its 'rise' to Yelan's (we're left with very little information on the latter's childhood), ticks the right kind of boxes for her, though to be fair: not many do. Yelan craves a specific sort of thrill in her life, I mean she lives it at the roll of a dice because she is, on some level, bored, and craves the unexpected, the unusual, the 'surprise', and Ningguang's life nor personality seem to play into that. Beyond it, Yelan would need a kinship within this very specific 'loneliness' that I talk about too often and I think that Ning is not one who quite meshes into that in the right way.
Second, despite their long-standing history that even predates their mutual involvement with the Qixing, there seems to be a certain professional distance between the two that I'm quite fond of that is shown in brief event cutscenes, and also Yelan's vision story, that I find inherently intriguing. Perhaps this distance plays more into Yelan's character of not investing too heavily, or rather not too easily, into social dynamics than it does Ning's (I'm not one to weigh in on her character), but it seems evident to me that there's also that semblance of professionalism that creates a line that takes away the possibility of growing closer on an emotional level. And whether that's a mutual decision or not is not up to me to judge, but I think it's one that's made rather clearly from Yelan's side. On top of that, Yelan is Yelan and it's my personal belief that shipping her is rather difficult.
Now I'm also inherently of the opinion (unpopular, I know, I apologize) that dynamics aren't always more interesting when written in romantic settings, and I don't think it's a benefit for all of them to veer into a romantic nature. And in my opinion (and most importantly: in my depiction and understanding of Yelan's character), I think that having Ning and Yelan cross the line from professionalism into something inherently more rooted in romanticism, would be a detriment to their dynamic. Because honestly, I think the fact that Ningguang being one of two people (other being Uncle Tian) to know Yelan best, without ever crossing that line, is too good. I would simply, well, just prefer to keep that not only platonic, but professional, but of course not excluding it of Yelan's quips, and the occasional 'confidant' element.
/rambles in tags because I feel like I have more to say that I shouldn't flood the post with.
#[ psa. ] seeing isn't always believing. and if you can't trust your eyes; you certainly can't trust rumors.#[ also; and this is where you'll learn more about my 'single-ship' self-- i love the concept of ningguang and beidou. ]#[ and i wouldn't want to take away from that dynamic /in my own head/. it's not about what others do/see/view. but about my own head. ]#[ if i did ship it-- it'd counter that dynamic and i don't like that (again: in my own brain). ]#[ i'm an odd rper in that sense; but i almost have difficulty straying from this... single verse concept. ]#[ in my head i tie specific characters to other specific characters after a lot of thought and i don't commit to those thoughts easily. ]#[ but then i construct this entire huge narrative in my head that's almost like its own book. ]#[ and so i can't easily 'copy' that multiple times for multiple ships. does that make sense? ]#[ but /because/ i do that-- i heavily scrutinize dynamics across the board and it's where a lot of my enjoyment as a writer comes from. ]#[ these analyses of specific characters and dynamics. why are they the way that they are? ]#[ it's psychology. i love it. it's not just saying 'i love finding out what makes characters tick' but it's actively really going... ]#[ 'yeah okay i could ship these-- but is there basis for it and /why/ and /in what capacity/ and specifically: /would they decide to/? ]#[ sometimes i tell myself that i'm not made for rp'ing because i'm too analytical meshed in with too much emotion. ]#[ because i get too invested. ]#[ but i just-- i don't know. i wanted to kind of explain why pointing stuff like this out is important to me and my portrayal. ]#[ especially for yelan who has such a... god; it's almost an unhealthy headspace. you can't mesh that with just anyone. ]#[ the person has to /really get it/ and understand it almost on this level that isn't logical for most humans. because it's unusual. ]#[ but it's important that it's understood /by another human being/. ]#[ and i also think some people genuinely don't mesh in /that/ way. some can mesh perfectly platonically in my head and then... ]#[ not at all romantically. but when /my head/ has decided that this is how it is-- i respect when people disagree; i do. ]#[ i will never say that my opinions are the be all end all for other yelans or even yelan's character in specific. ]#[ as much as i like to think i analyze-- /i could be wrong/. ]#[ but all in all; i do respect if people disagree. but there's just certain opinions i have for my own portrayal that i need to note. ]#[ but also-- a little explanation as to why i'm single-ship more often than not. i wish i could budge how my brain works. but alas. ]#[ /sips coffee past midnight. ]#[ it's been a day. it really has been a day; i need to make my own serotonin tomorrow. i miss writing. ]
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apliddell · 2 years ago
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i actually had a part 6 of ymt in the works right before good omens came out and ruined my brain and i think about finishing it sometimes. like hurray public domain let me go back to sherlock holmes! but uhhh. ymt was very unpopular and got like. 30 kudos or something on my most recent fic, and that's like. so discouraging. so i write fic for a big ship where i get much more engagement, because i write to connect with people and writing stuff no one cares about makes me feel like i'm not connecting.
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hecksupremechips · 8 months ago
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I love to imagine Rebecca as trans like it just has become so ingrained in my mind it feels weird it’s not canon. She realized at a young age and her parents were supportive and let her present how she wanted and they used her name and pronouns, but they weren’t around enough to go the extra mile for her and make sure she was being protected. She was the target of some pretty bad bullying at school, both from the students and the staff, and Ashton was the first person to defend her. Ashton is cishet (cuz I think it’s funny) and hes kinda ignorant at first but he tries his best and he just likes Rebecca and wants good things for her and he’s so emo he scares away the bullies lol. And this was definitely a big part in Rebecca gaining feelings for him he just showed her this special kinda care that no one else ever did, and it’s what makes her extra insecure as the years go by. Cuz she wonders if maybe the reason Ashton never seems to reciprocate her feelings is because she’s trans and he just never thought to see her as romance material as a result. Which is a line of thinking that gets out of control really bad and she never gets to have the closure she wants with it either
She tells Isabella that’s shes trans just cuz they’re best friends and it sorta comes up eventually. Isabella was a tomboy growing up so she can definitely relate to the bullying shit pretty well and they are very protective of each other and vow to beat up anyone who talks shit about the other. They also just open each other’s minds a bit, Isabella helps Rebecca feel more comfortable in knowing there’s many different ways to be a woman, Rebecca helps Isabella maybe explore her feelings about her own gender and whether or not she’s really attached to womanhood. Zach finds out in a more casual way, it’s just something he learns cuz it felt weird that he was the only one who didn’t know and well. He’s a good guy, he wouldn’t mind. It’s not something the two of them ever talk about really, aside from bonding over a few shared experiences with having to deal with assholes. And really, being trans just isn’t something Rebecca wants to talk about too much, just because she’s gotten to a point where’s she’s experienced being stealth and she knows how quickly people can turn on you when they know, and she understandably doesn’t wanna deal with that shit. But because her friends are so supportive, she doesn’t exhale and let herself just exist naturally around them and it does help her feel less insecure about who she is
Sexuality wise I think she’s "straight" I think she’s spent most of her life looking at Ashton and just assuming she’d be with a man but once she finally gets to give up on him she has Moments with Isabella or like a certain fondness for Marianne and their shared love of history and other nerd shit and shes just like. Uh Oh 😟
#the letter#rebecca gales#my beloved my bestie my wife etc#ive also just written like in a scenario where she gets with luke shes gonna like get that dick and then shes like oh fuckkkkk#and its pretty frightening cuz luke is a notorious asshole but hes about to find out so she just lets it out#and hes weirdly chill hes just like ‘hnnnghh does it look like i fucking care about that right now daisy’#they uh. arent exactly a match made in heaven alkskf the way i write it like they are genuinely good for each other in a lot of ways#like i think they both can just help the other see important sides to themselves and improve#but i dont see them being like this happy long term couple i think rebecca can do soooo much better i think theyd get together when shes at#rock bottom and feels like no one will ever love her and she forms a bond with luke and she relates to him in a weird way#and this makes her feel worse like luke is the only one who sees the real her and she wants him because shes afraid hes the only one whod#tolerate her its just a very unhealthy situation and he has enough good in him to keep her on the hook#but enough bad in him to never satisfy what she needs and to make her feel like shit#its like. i dont think its IMPOSSIBLE for luke to be a good partner to her but hed have to do a LOTTT of changing that im just not confident#hed do plus like i mean hes literally a murderer and all of rebeccas friends hate him i dont think shed really be able to see past that#plus like hed be transphobic like maybe he isnt opposed to having sex with a trans woman in the moment but he certainly wouldnt be an ally#its all about whats convenient for him i think at best hed be like ‘youre one of the good ones!’#i kinda love lukebecca lol not in a ‘theyre cute’ way ew just in a. ‘their interactions are really funny and interesting’ kinda way#i want them to fuck nasty and i want rebecca to almost sink to his level but then rise above and kick his ass#and i want rebecca to be the one who got away for luke like losing her is the biggest wake up call of his life#and then rebecca lives her best life with her awesome friends and they work on communicating properly#and she realizes she doesnt need a man to complete her and then she writes a book and is loved pleaseeee
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chunksworld · 10 months ago
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Double Fantasy
NewJeans Minji x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut)
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A/N: Apologies for the long hiatus, ya boi was busy with life. Also, thank you @kaedespicelatte as always for beta reading. ————————
“My room. I’m giving you 15 minutes or we’re never doing this again.”
Kim Minji be damned.
You hate how every ounce of self-respect you have flies out of the window when it comes to her, as if you’re nothing but an outlet for her carnal desires (as she was to you). And perhaps you are—maybe it was just part of your delusion to think that she perceives you differently than the hundreds of men that shamelessly ogle her. That she views you more than just that guy that fucks her so good she struggles to keep that mouth of hers shut. But who are you to complain? Every encounter with her leaves you starstruck, wanting for more, tongue tied—as if she commands an unquantifiable amount of gravity that leaves you speechless literally and figuratively. As much as your brain is telling you that she’s dangerous, that everything that’s happening between the two of you can jeopardize everything you’ve worked so hard for, it’s the thrill that keeps you coming back time and time again.
I mean who would’ve thought that the two top students on campus would be engaging in such unholy acts? Not when everyone (your professors included) think of you two as the embodiment of the values that this very institution was established upon. The beacons of hope that would serve as inspirations for the rest of your peers, that through hard work they can attain the level of success that you two have. That couldn’t be any more farther than the truth however. Certainly your after school hookups with her inside empty classrooms, behind the bleachers, and inside the gym showers would beg to differ. But it’s not like you have any morals, that disappeared eons ago when you found yourself down this treacherous path of self-destruction in an attempt to alleviate the stress that comes with such expectations and responsibilities.
On the surface their perception of you two is true; students that constantly receive top marks in every subject and find themselves involved in as many activities and clubs as possible. Racking up awards was just second nature, as you would always receive the highest recognition much like she did over the years. It was only natural for a rivalry to spark between you and her; a byproduct of your competitiveness and your desire to come out on top. It was friendly at first, you would congratulate each other and encourage the other to do better next time. But it soon became ugly, the once wholesome banter turning into horrifying insults that you wouldn’t even think to come out of your mouth—needless to say you both became jealous of each other, of how successful the other one became.
You could say it was a petty affair, one that was exacerbated by the fact that everyone was pressuring you two to continuously be the best—a mental strain that proved to be too much. It was something that only happened behind closed doors though, everyone still thought you had an amicable relationship with her when everything was actually already falling apart. Yelling and screaming and arguing, truly an ugly sight. You would often talk about how you couldn’t stand how condescending she was towards you every time you made a mistake and she in turn would talk about how much she hates your ego. But it also involved even the smallest of things including how you thought her boyfriend was a dick because she would rarely see him (she claimed he was busy all the time but you knew better).
And with two extremely combustible elements in constant interaction with one another, an explosion was bound to occur. After months and months of arguing, it finally happened. It was midterms week and you two were extremely stressed (it didn’t help that you were only getting on average two to three hours of sleep and consuming an unhealthy amount of energy drinks). Oh, and that dick of a boyfriend she had broke up with her. She was inconsolable to say the least— but when you brought up how much you didn’t like him and blamed her for dating him in the first place like the asshole you were, that's when things took a turn. You know you fucked up, that it was a line crossed and that such words should have never been uttered. But instead of receiving a resounding slap on the face, you found yourself kissing her. 
Or rather, Minji kissing you. And any sane person would react by trying to pull away in shock but you couldn’t find yourself doing it. Perhaps this was something that was bound to happen. All of those arguing and bickering, maybe it was just a ruse. The urgency, the passion, the look of desperation in her eyes; they told the story. Maybe it was the caffeine, maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was something more. Whatever it is, she needed you as much as you needed her. She was coming off a terrible breakup and you, well—you would be lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t find her attractive because who didn’t? There’s a reason why she’s rejected at least half of the male students, and you definitely don’t miss the way some of them would glare at you because of how suspiciously close you were to her. 
In that aspect, a part of you considers this a small victory; especially when she grabs you by the collar and pulls you in deeper, as if the thought of letting you go would be the end of her. It was intense and as much as your senses were firing from all cylinders, your brain was telling you that this wasn’t right. You were supposed to hate her, she was your mortal enemy. What would everyone think? That the two top students were hooking up with—close the fucking door before I change my mind. Right. Every rationale you may have had was gone in an instant. The prospect of a classmate, a member of the maintenance crew, or worse—a staff potentially catching the two of you never crossed your mind. Not when you had her bent over the desk at one point screaming you’re fucking me so good and don’t stop while you rearrange her guts. Or when you had her pinned against the wall and pumped her so full of cum that she finally gave you her number after because she wanted you two to do it all over again.
Did the room reek of sex? Sure. That’s why she’s made it a habit to bring a bottle of air freshener to mask the scent during your subsequent “study sessions.” And were people starting to notice how you two would frequently stay up late despite not always having a busy workload? Definitely. But you could care less. In fact, nothing else matters. You were addicted to her in more ways than one, not romantically however. That was something she made abundantly clear the day after—clearly she was one to establish boundaries which you respected. Yet here you are, frantically putting on some nice clothes and making yourself smell nice with that twenty dollar bottle of perfume that she hates. Fuck it, why even bother? Your clothes will be thrown to God knows where the moment you enter her place anyways. At least put on a face mask, especially since you’ll be sneaking your way to her dorm once again and you don’t want another close encounter with the security guard.
Fortunately there wasn’t any problem, your disguise actually worked this time around but you still have to be cautious. It’s a quick elevator ride yet it takes forever, maybe it’s because you two haven’t had sex in the past two weeks and you’re just dying to get a taste of her again, to feel her irresistible body against yours. Look around before knocking on the door three times and fortunately you didn’t have to wait any longer. Minji hastily pulls you inside and grabs you by your hoodie for a kiss—immediately you get a taste of her favorite cinnamon lip balm. Her strength (which still surprises you to this day) forces you to move backwards and you find your back pressed against her door. Hands roam each other’s bodies and you groan as you feel her fingers cup your bulge. Fuck, why are you so hard already? 
You’re not one to just let her do what she wants so you avoid her chasing lips to plant yours on her neck, biting and nipping on her smooth skin while your own fingers creep underneath her shirt. “D-Don’t fucking mark me. I—shit—I’ve got a presentation tomorrow.” Minji finally speaks and you would’ve gladly granted her wish but with the way she’s leaning her head back, it didn’t seem like her words were matching her actions. Much more so when you grab on the hem of that same shirt and pull it up and she willfully raises her arms so you can remove it. And before you even get the opportunity to appreciate her body, your sweatpants are already being pulled down. Help her out by kicking that obstructive garment away; in fact you end up removing your hoodie as well which only leaves you with your boxers on and it barely conceals your raging desire for her. 
“This is your fault. Your fault for making me wait so damn long.” You don’t miss the way she bites her lips at the sight of your bulge, even as you make your way further down with your mouth and proceed to mark her collarbones and her cleavage. Her deft fingers continue to distract you however, pulling your boxers down and wrapping her cold digits around your throbbing and pulsating cock. The effect on you is immediate as you can do nothing but lean your head back and groan shamelessly. Minji smirks, especially because this is one of the only few times she has the upper hand on you; when you’re just putty in her arms and rendered breathless by her actions. It gets even worse when she slowly begins to pump you, drawing more precum out of your tip with how badly you just want to ravage her. 
“You poor thing.” You can feel her hot breath against your ear, sending more shivers down your spine as she’s decided that it’s now her turn to leave marks on you. It’s apparent that Kim Minji is just as possessive as you, even though neither one of you wants to reveal your dirty little secret to everyone. “Guess you couldn’t last that long without me, huh? Were those pictures I sent not enough?” Of course they weren’t, no amount of thirst pics of her in her underwear can satiate your endless lust towards her. Nothing can replace her hands, the way she can just work you to submission and make you so impatient. “I can’t blame you.” Her teeth sink into your jugular like a vampire. “I’ve been thinking about how much I want you to rail me into the bed, to make me moan so fucking load, to make me choke on your cock. Will you do all of that for me?”
You’re ashamed by how much that turned you on, as if a switch has been flipped inside you. You don’t miss a beat and lift her up by her waist which makes her squeal; her legs wrap around you while you carry her towards her bed. No more foreplay, you almost throw her onto the bed before yanking her shorts and her panties in the process. They’re discarded along with the rest of your clothing somewhere in the room. Her bra follows suit as well—you can’t believe she’s had it on for this long. “Fuck, you don’t know how much I want to put a load in you. Until you’re filled with so much cum that all you can think about is my cock.” You spread her long legs open and it’s clear that everything she said is true; her clit is puffed and her inner thighs are already drenched with her juices. 
Kneel in front of her and carefully position your length inside her. “Gonna fuck you now.” Through gritted teeth, Minji nods; her fingers gripping your biceps while her legs are already pulling you in. You sink into her further and further, drinking her moans and whispered curses until you bottom out inside her. She still feels so good, so  tight, so warm. You have to silence her mouth with a kiss because her moans are increasing in volume as you gradually increase her pace. “So, so fucking good. You’re gonna drain me dry.” Feel her nails digging into your shoulders and back, you’re definitely going to feel the sting of the scratches she’s leaving tomorrow morning but that’s not your concern for now. A bite of your bottom lip further confirms that she’s in an equal state of euphoria and you respond by continuing to fuck her with the same pace and intensity.
You’re careful not to make the bed creak but that’s fortunately an art that you’ve already mastered given the circumstances. But even with her luscious thighs wrapped around you, it’s not enough to have her drunk on your cock, you want her to beg for it like her life depends on it. You pause for a brief moment much to her verbal disappointment before pressing her legs against her chest to effectively fuck her in mating press. You know it’s her favorite position because an uncharacteristically loud moan escapes her mouth the moment you resume your fucking, your fingers gripping the bedsheet for support. “F-Fuck! Please, keep fucking me. So—damn—big!” You’re going to have to kiss her again because she’s slowly losing her grip on her surroundings, only focused on how much you’re pounding her into the bed.
“This is what you wanted, right? I bet not even your toys can fuck you this deep.” Minji doesn’t answer but her body responds for her; a particularly deep thrust has her clinging on to you for dear life. Her breasts pressing up against you and followed by the rest of her body. Bury your face on the crook of her neck, inhaling her addicting scent as you can feel her tightening ever so slightly around your cock. It’s becoming more of an effort to thrust inside her now, especially when you’re fucking her balls deep with every motion of your hips. Only broken sentences and curses are leaving her mouth at this very moment, along with shameless moans of your name as if she’s not afraid to reveal to everyone just how much the model student is getting dicked down by her fellow model student.
Maybe she isn’t. Maybe that’s part of the thrill after all, the aspect of getting caught. But that’s not your worry at this moment; not when that said model student is beginning to tighten even more and her breathing is becoming more hurried. You pull away to look at her facial expression and it’s painted with nothing but lust. The way her face is misted with sweat, her eyes closed, and her mouth open. It’s clear that her orgasm is just right around the corner. “C-Coming! I’m so fucking close, don’t you dare fucking stop.” You don’t care that your abs are burning, that’s what those 7 AM workouts in the gym are for. It’s for moments like these, when her nails are damn near close to breaking your skin and tears are starting to well on her eyes. It then becomes your goal to break her, like you always do during these sessions.
And it’s during another particularly deep thrust that her orgasm hits her like lightning, her pussy becoming unimaginably tight as if she wants you to join her in her euphoria as well. She’s almost crying, her body twitching uncontrollably as you pin her down to the bed. Tears eventually do fall due to the overwhelming pleasure, that makeup that you’re only noticing now is completely destroyed. Her juices begin to soak your length and the sheets underneath. She’s biting her lips so hard that it’s starting to bleed, get rid of the blood by giving her open-mouthed kisses. But you’re so focused on helping her come down from her high that you don’t realize that you’re about to explode as well, Perhaps you might, because you’re starting to throb madly as you continue to fuck her through her powerful orgasm. 
You spread her legs as far as you can, pistoning into her with no abandon. More of her juices stream out and you’re almost apologetic because of the mess that she’s going to have to clean up. But it’s really hard to focus on anything else when her pussy is still pulsating, continuing to urge you to join her in her orgasm. “Need your cum inside me, don’t you dare pull out.” It’s not like you had any intentions to in the first place, not when her suffocating warmth is begging to drain your balls for everything it has. The tension is building, rising, culminating—one animalistic growl after you bottom out and you’re pumping ropes and ropes of semen deep inside her. It floods her walls, it overflows, and you just can’t stop pushing it as deep inside her as possible. To make sure that her womb is completely filled with your cum and nothing else. It’s downright euphoric, the way her name leaves your lips like it’s a mantra. The way all of it triggers a smaller, second orgasm from her—truly wringing you dry.
It takes minutes for your movement to come to a halt, and by then your orgasm has completely subsided and so has hers. You feel her arms pull you in for a kiss, a much slower and passionate one compared to earlier. As if she’s saying thanks, because her voice is probably already gone. Or perhaps she’s just preserving her energy because if there’s anything you know about Minji, it’s that one round is not enough for her. If that’s the case then you better get a quick rest. Pull out of her and watch your excess semen drip out of her and down to her thighs. It’s truly a sight that you’ll never get tired of time and time again. Even more so when she takes a finger and takes a sample of your combined juices. It doesn’t take too long for your cock to become fully erect once again despite your orgasm just mere minutes ago.
There’s no time to contemplate though as Minji saves you the trouble because the next thing you know her perfectly shaped ass is raised and facing you, her arms bracing herself on the bed as she clearly shows you what she wants. “Need you to cum in me again, can you do that for me?” There’s no more time to waste, take a glance at the bedside clock and it’s already way past midnight—any noise at this hour would further alert people. You quickly kneel behind her, positioning your cock once again inside her pussy but this time in a much swifter manner. But despite all of the lubrication she’s so much tighter in this position. Grab on her ass for support and leverage as you begin to thrust, it’s a sight to behold that is her curves and back covered with sweat and her hair becoming a disheveled mess. 
She’s much more silent this time, thanks to the fact that her moans are being muffled by the pillows. This slow tempo also gives you time to recover, though it’s clear that she wants you to be rough with her once again with the way she’s moving her hips in a back and forth motion. Fine, if that’s what she wants then that’s what she gets. Just thirty seconds is all you need to recover, especially when you’ve got that heavenly view in front of you. You grab her by the arms and pull her upright until her back is pressed against your chest, your hands palming her breasts as you suddenly increase your pace. It’s your favorite position because not only is her body pressed against yours but you can view everything about her up close—her ruined mascara, her swollen lip, the dried tears on her face. 
Your fingers slowly creep up to her neck as you fuck her with all of your remaining strength, quieting her with more kisses—also because you just love kissing the hell out of her due to how irresistible and soft her lips are. She might’ve had another orgasm already but you’re too far gone, too caught up in chasing your own that you don’t notice. Either way, it only takes ten minutes this time for you to unload whatever remaining load you had (which is surprisingly a lot considering that when you pull out, a copious amount of semen is dripping out of her now swollen pussy once again). Now you’re truly spent, crashing on her twin sized bed that can barely fit the two of you so you always end up cuddling post sex. And as crazy as it sounds, this is the part of this whole ordeal that you’re oh-so-afraid of. Will she hear how quickly your heart beats when her head is resting on it? Will she find out that you’re slowly starting to wish that there was more between you two? Despite the fact that it’s an incredibly terrible idea that could have major implications in your future?
“Take me out to dinner first.” Minji is the first one to break the silence and the words that come out of her mouth completely terrifies you—it almost makes you jump out of the bed.
“What?”
“I’m not stupid.” Minji looks up to you, then places a gentle kiss on the hickey she left on your neck. “We’ve been hooking up for five months and you’re telling me there’s no way you haven’t fallen in love with me yet?”
Maybe you have.
Then you remember how angry you felt when her boyfriend broke up with her and you couldn’t do anything about it; you just wanted to barge inside her room and hold her in your arms and apologize for being such a dick and you couldn’t. You wanted to tell her that she deserves better because she truly does, but whether it was you that deserved to take that place in her heart you didn’t know. You were mortified at the thought of your relationship only remaining at such a stage—even though she made it crystal clear that she didn’t want anything to develop between you two. But it’s all in the past now—which begs the question: have you truly fallen in love with her? It only takes one look at those eyes and the way her lips curl upwards and how she fits so perfectly in your arms and how you wish you could be with her forever and how it all completely fucks up your equilibrium.
Yeah.
Of course you have.
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goldsbitch · 4 months ago
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I'm not sure if your requests are open but what about the whole fire situation at McLaren, Lando can't find the reader and he's freaking out and he cares more about finding her than putting shoes on - obv she's be OK and just stand there with oscar or sth 😭
-omg I love this request! added a bit here and there, so hope you'll like it...thank you!!
Fire.
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Rick was a 23 year old McLaren assistant who, by sheer luck, managed to land a job with the racing team. This being his first season and immediately being thrown into following the team on the road. It was an exciting life, but a little fast and hard to follow in the beginning. He was just trying to blend it and feel out what is it that is actually required from him.
It was few hours after the fire was put down and if he knew one thing it was that corporate is expecting a quick short report asap, before the long report from health and safety people follows. He'd been sitting there, in Pirelli hospitality, stressed out as if his life depended on this - and honestly, it probably did a little bit. It was quite baffling to him why was it that the team elected him to be in charge or reports to corporate. On a normal day, it was fairly easy - reporting minor injuries, heatstrokes and collecting reports from the mechanics and resending them. And now, he was to do a full on fire report? He hasn't even seen one before!
He tried to ignore his inner panic and put together few pages of text, trying to tune into the confusing language corporate sometimes required. The part he dreaded the most was "describing how the drivers were evacuated" part of the form.
Oscar Piastri (driver 81) had not been at the premise when the fire was detected, therefore there was no need to evacuate him.
Lando Norris (driver 4) had been running around like a panic filled duck making the evacuation way more difficult for everyone.
Nope, this was not even an option, no matter how much would Rick like to send this out and watch the world burn, again.
Lando Norris (driver 4) was in his driver room when the evacuation started, definitely not blasting his music into unhealthy levels and certainly did not miss the first warning because of it.
Nope.
Lando Norris (driver 4) used his unique ability to be as extra as possible at any given moment that we can thank him for creating yet another viral moment, the image of him, standing outside the mobile hospitality building with no shoes, gaining a permanent place on the internet.
This was going to be a difficult decision for poor Rick.
//
Lando was excited about the Barcelona race, this being only the second time he was on pole. And all of that happening on the weekend he and his new girlfriend decided to make their relationship official, hard launch around the paddock.
But he also understood he needed his alone time to get prepared and Y/N supported that completely, not wanting him to babysit her constantly.
He was full on enjoying his pre-race ritual. Chilling on his couch and blasting music loudly and proudly, flicking his toes to the rhythm of the latest bops and getting lost in his strategy, going over the plan they had for that race.
All was good and well - until the smoke coming from the stairs started to spread, together along with panic.
"Lando!" a voice said while barging unapologetically through his door. "We need to evacuate!"
He nearly had a heart attack and fell of the sofa, as he did not expect anything to happen on that nice Sunday morning.
"What?" he said, putting his music on mute and only now hearing the general mayhem happening outside his door, dark milky smoke rolling in.
"We need to evacuate you!" his assistant said once again, rushing to him and getting him up.
"Lando!" said another voice that marched in with the same intention. "How come you're still here, we need to move out!"
"What the fuck is happening outside?" confused Lando asked, not really used to people storming into his room right before the race. His eyes flashed between the two assistants, both out of breath because they were probably not used to running.
"Em, fire...down at the staircase, so we gotta go that way," one of them said, gesturing somewhere towards his left.
"Wait, so near the canteen?" Lando asked. Shit, that was where he left Y/N. Oh god. Both of them nodded, trying to gesture him to move outside, which he did not.
"Has anyone seen my girlfriend?" he continued with the questions firmly.
"Um, Y/N?" one of the assistants asked, not expecting this question.
"Yes, who else?" Lando responded impatiently, panic growing in.
"I don't know, I never want to assume anything..."started rambling the one who marched in first.
Lando couldn't help but roll his eyes, where we all the competent people when he needed them? Once again, these two were gesturing him to start evacuating.
"I need to call her first," he said, taking his phone out and dialing her number. It was a very bizarre scenery to watch, the three of them just standing there while everyone was rushing around.
One, two, three, four very long dials. Two pairs of eyes shooting arrows at Lando, who stood firmly, hoping she'll pick up. Nothing. Was that actual panic he was starting to feel?
"Ok, I gotta go check out the canteen and find her, you two can go and tell everyone I'm ok," he said and brushed past them and went to the hallway.
He overhead someone trying to give orders, but based on the scene ahead of him, people rushing back and forth without clear direction, nobody seemed to pay that much attention. "Please, make your orderly exit, follow the signs, this is not a drill, this is not a drill. Breathe through your nose."
The driver was making his way through flocks of people going the other direction while the smoke and acrid smell grew on intensity that even Lando, with his cough and blocked nose, could actually smell it. He managed to avoid everyone, leaving the two poor assistants who came to search for him behind, until he bumped into another rushing person most likely giving him a black eye.
"Ouch! Lando! Everyone is looking for you, we gotta evacuate," stated the another new member of the team, who Lando vaguely recalled as Rick, while he held his puffing eye. And finally, fire alarm started to produce its signature deafening sound.
"Sorry! Sorry!" he apologized loudly, not wanting to cause more trouble, which was failing quite miserably. "I know, you're all looking for me, but is anyone looking for Y/N?" Lando asked, his priorities being very clear.
Rick was slightly confused, trying to recall if she had already evacuated or not.
"Did you see her going outside?" Lando demanded answers from anyone present and poor Rick was on the frontline.
"I don't know, I was over there-" he pointed to a room, where Y/N would definitely not be - the men's room.
"Fuckin' shit," Lando cursed and left Rick standing and marched over to where the smoke was coming from, trying to remember to breathe through his nose.
It was the first time she visited him in the paddock, which was already stressful enough, as he imagined. This was his home, he knew every corner and secret this place held - but she didn't! And also - he was Lando Norris, people would go out and search for him, but it was his job to make sure that his girlfriend is ok. And he was doing a very shit job at that, at least in his mind. Actual firefighters started to appear at the scene and finally the evacuation started to resemble orderly departure, rather than an obscure rave. He finally arrived near to the canteen when he got stopped by one of the firemen.
"Sir, you have to leave now, the other way!" he ordered, not interested in anyone's bullshit.
"I know, I just gotta check my girlfriend is not there, nobody is looking for her-"
"We are looking for everyone and you are making our job harder, please evacuate and let us work."
Lando was starting to understand that his actions might be creating more chaos than good, so he nodded and turned around, only to see the entourage of three assistant walking towards him, trying to get through the firefighters.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going," he shouted and gestured them to turn around, which they only did once they saw his actually going the right way and following evacuation orders.
The strange quartet finally rolled outside, three of them finally being able to relax as they got the driver out, while he was on the verge of losing it. Frantically started looking around, losing his cool again. Only once he stepped outside to the hot Spanish June afternoon, he noticed he wasn't wearing any shoes, the asphalt giving him a lot of information about the potential track temperature. Hot.
He didn't care. He had to find her, otherwise he was going back in and this time nobody would stop him.
Not her, not her, not her - wait, that was her! Standing safely far away from curious crowd that observed the scene and chatting it out, was Y/N and Oscar. Safe and sound, maybe a little too relaxed given the situation. Lando rushed to her, almost tripping over his own feet.
"Hey...I called you," he said, his own athleticism saving him from being unable to breathe.
She smiled when she saw him, like she always did. Innocent eyes and lush lips creating and angel-like picture. "Oh, did you? Sorry, I couldn't hear, there was so much noise everywhere," she said and gave him a little peck on his cheek before turning her attention to the McLaren building.
Lando was trying to look cool, not saying anything and tried to process his own reaction, maybe potentially overreaction - something, he'd never admit.
"We are recreating the scene from The Office," Oscar said, as if there weren't people around them running in panic. Lando just stared at him and his girlfriend, both standing in pure calmness and doing what could only be described as "vibing it out".
"I'm sorry?" he replied, not yet tuned into their wave-lenght.
"We were playing Desert Island while everyone was evacuating themselves," Oscar explained to Lando. Y/N laughed, but decided to change the topic when she saw how clueless her boyfriend looked.
"Never thought I'd date a millennial," she said out of the blue.
Lando was once again not comprehending, still coming down from his shock. "What?"
She giggled. "Look at your socks man. So low one would think it's 2014 again."
"Good year," Oscar said, sounding like he was 80 years old.
Only then Lando looked down now to truly fathom that he forgot to put his shoes on. He had to chuckle. He was used to adrenaline highs and lows, but apparently not as much as he though so.
"You ok?" Y/N asked, starting to become concerned when Lando did not follow up on their joke. She examined him and noticed the drops of stress sweat, his uneven breathing and eyes wide as the sun.
There was not much of a hesitation before he uttered the next sentence.
"I love you," he stated, no regrets or uncertainty. This was the first time either of them said this sentence. They were sort of tip toying around for few weeks now, but both of them feared it would freak the other one out. Not anymore, Lando had to get it out at that moment and nothing would stop him.
Now it was Y/N who was completely taken back, not expecting that. Funny how a fire did nothing to her reactions and this had her nearly melting. Melting with shock. No, it did not make sense to her either.
Lando was standing there, not expecting or demanding a reaction from her. He was coming to terms with his own realization, and stood there as proudly as someone who's not wearing any shoes can.
"Yes, it is true. I love you. You don't have to say anything, but I am more than sure now."
She bit her lower lip, unable to contain herself. "No, I want to say something. I love you too, more every day. So much it's getting scary."
Lando smiled, ear to ear, the events of the day passing him by. This was what mattered.
"This is so cool," Lando replied and went to kiss her on the cheek.
"Cool? That's your reaction?" she gasped, astonished and slightly amused.
"Yes, exactly that," he smiled once again, smitten over the moon.
The three of them stood there, Y/N and Lando watching each other, Oscar trying not to listen at first and observing the fire situation with new found interest. But it was nearly impossible.
"This is all very cute, but if you don't stop and leave this for when you're alone, I'm going to personally throw myself into the fire," he stated, teasing the fuck out of Lando.
"Have fun burning, mate!" Lando replied immediately and pulled Y/N into an unhinged hug.
Y/N never felt better in someone's embrace. "I love someone who's not even wearing shoes outside," she proclaimed after a moment. "Thank god mom's not here."
//
Lando Norris (driver 4) obeyed the evacuation procedure, followed directions and cooperated at full capacity. Due to the nature of the situation, the team decided to pull Lando out of the premise as quickly as possible, which resulted in him evacuating barefoot. No injury detected.
After several drafts, this was what Rick decided to go with, while icing his black eye.
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total-dxmure · 8 months ago
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ೃ࿔ CHERRY FLAVORED →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER ONE
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pairing: mega fan!ellie williams x rock star!reader
summary: your guitarist was carted off to rehab after just one month into your recent tour. fuck. there’s only one thing you can do, and that’s hire a replacement. your band thinks it’s going to be nearly impossible to find someone that is on the same level of talent as your “beloved” guitarist. you don’t have high hopes that anyone can nail the songs quite like he did either, if you’re being brutally honest. enter ellie- she’s a mega fan. the girl knows every lyric and note like the back of her hand. . . and everything about you, which isn’t creepy at all. her apparent obsession with you is something that you and your tour manager can overlook if it means carrying on with the rest of the tour. forced proximity with a stalker-level fan . . . what’s the worst thing that could happen?
warnings: smut in next chapter, talk of substance abuse, the reader is a tease and a bit of a bitch but it’s hot i promise, ellie is obsessed with reader to an unhealthy degree.
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.
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It was the kind of love that tortured poets mused over. Ribs straining against a heavy heart. 
Ellie had deluded herself, as any love drunk person does, that she wouldn’t dissolve into a puddle on the floor if she were to meet you. She could keep her cool- downplay the crushing significance you held in her life. Your voice was constantly ringing in her ears. She could see your face in perfect clarity any time she closed her eyes. Pictures like snapshots played out behind her eyelids, and yet you always felt a million miles away for her. You were a perfect performer, situated on your sky-high pedestal, always out of her puny reach. 
Because Ellie, as much as she despised this fact and dreamed of greatness, was a nobody. She grew up in a tiny town of no noteworthiness, her adolescent years spent dreaming about the planets and playing guitar with Joel. By all accounts Ellie was normal, while you were certainly not. Still, she liked to tell herself that she’d somehow manage to make herself worthy of your affections if she were ever to be blessed with them. 
Finding herself in a situation like this seemed like an impossibility. She was partially convinced that she was daydreaming, having concocted some elaborate fantasy just to feed the insatiable ache. She was starved for you with no way to feed herself. 
All it had taken was a single audition tape. One. Single. Tape. Ellie was staring, wide eyed, at Gene fuckin’ Murray. 
The blood rushed from her head, hands breaking out instantaneously into a clammy sweat. She couldn’t think, couldn’t function at the realization that she was staring at one of the people that she had worshiped for years. Gene’s talent had been praised by the likes of Lars Ulrich and Danny Carey. He wasn’t popular just for his looks but for his undeniable talent. 
And he was staring straight at Ellie, arms crossed over his toned chest as he waited expectantly. She felt like an idiot. Should she be playing? If so, what did they want her to play? Surely one of their songs. She’d glossed past the fact that she was a megafan, instead making it sound like she was just looking for a successful band to join. She was talented. No, Ellie was really talented. 
She wasn’t just a technical player, but excelled at making her own rules. She enjoyed the creative freedom that playing the guitar granted, and felt as though the world needed more Jimi’s and Van Halen’s. Ellie excelled at thinking outside of the box. 
She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 
She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 
She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 
So she took a deep breath and tried to steady her heart, once again stepping up to the mic. If there was one thing that all of your bandmates had in common, it was the attitude. She’d watched hundreds of interviews, had studied all of their movements and mannerisms. . .she understood you down to a science. 
“So do you want me to play or what?” Ellie spoke into the mic, gripping the neck of the guitar in the hopes that it might act as an anchor. She was scared that she might float away. 
The manager’s eyebrows twitched at her sudden change in attitude but he didn’t say anything, merely turned to look at Gene. For a second everyone just stared at her, like a bug under a microscope. After what felt like five minutes but was really just five seconds, Gene broke out into a grin, motioning to her with a flick of his wrist. He wasn’t confident in her, Ellie could tell. 
She had a sweet face, she knew that. Big green eyes and freckles- she was unsuspecting. People were usually shocked to find out that she had wrestled competitively in high school and had no problem putting a man three times her size on his ass. People expected very little from her, and perhaps that was part of Ellie’s real charm. 
“What song?” She was staring at Gene now, gripping her guitar pick between two sweat-slick fingers. 
“What ‘bout ‘Sometime Soon’? Know that one?” His tone was teasing. Condescending. 
The song was fast paced. It was supposed to be played loud and hard- one of your angrier songs. Ellie knew that you had been the one to write this one, meaning it was one of her favorites. The notes weren’t beginner friendly, but it wasn’t exactly hard for her. 
It was more style, less technical ability- which meant that Ellie would have no problem making this song her bitch. 
It was obvious that Gene was the one meant to judge her. The manager was just that- a manager. They needed an actual musician to listen in. So she took a deep breath and readied herself. . . 
and then the sound of your singing voice blasted into the booth. Drums, bass- she was meant to play with you. 
She almost missed her que, eyes widening in nervousness. She thought that she’d be playing all by her lonesome. She thought wrong it would seem. They’d started her off right in the middle of the song. Probably to throw her off. She jumped in, fingers sliding along the frets to shape out the correct notes. She tucked her guitar pick against the palm of her hand with her thumb, using the pads of her fingers to tap the strings. Faster. Faster. Faster. She didn’t look up from her guitar to look at the men’s reactions to her playing. Instead she just pretended she was standing in the living room of her apartment, hellbent on getting another noise complaint from the bitchy nextdoor neighbor. 
Her calloused fingers pinched the strings, satisfied with the way the guitar whined over the speakers. The guitar solo in this song was meant to be impressive- and it was, she had to give it to Leon. A lot of it was just bullshitting though. He’d admitted that he came up with the solo in the actual sound booth off of the top of his head while they were recording the song. 
The man was a god. He deserved “guitarist of the year” two years in a row. Ellie had the Los Angeles native beat though. Where he had grown up in the constant presence of “the greats”, Ellie had grown up in a constant state of boredom. She’d been playing the guitar since she was fourteen. Every day she’d sit down for hours and practice until her fingers bled. . . literally. She had thousands of hours on Leon, and she knew that with certainty. 
Ellie moved the guitar up and down gently with her fret hand, prolonging the last note so that it cried the way she wanted it to. The muscles in her arms were sore from how hard she had been tensing during the song. She’d been a lot more mechanical about it than she was used to, but she had something to prove. 
After a second she looked up from her guitar to gauge everyone’s reactions. The manager had dropped his cold and indifferent demeanor, instead flashing her a small smile. It bolstered her, gave her the strength to turn and look at Gene. 
He still had his arms crossed over his chest, and for a second Ellie was sure that he would tell her that she sucked. She widened her stance, shuffling her feet so that she was in a more defensive position. His heated gaze made her feel as though she needed to protect herself from whatever mental anguish he was about to put her through. 
“I thought she was kick ass,” Gene finally spoke up, giving Ellie a small thumbs up. Her face lit up into a wide smile before she could school her reaction into one of indifference. “What do you think? You’re the one that calls all the shots.” He spoke behind him, looking down at someone that had been hidden on the couch all along. 
Ellie squinted her eyes, taking a step closer to the glass to see if there was another businessman she’d somehow overlooked. 
She saw your hair before she saw anything else. It was freshly dyed, different than the last she’d seen you in all of the recent tabloid photos. You were clad in leather- pants so tight that they looked like a second skin. Your top was just as restrictive, breasts spilling out from the top, midriff revealed to show off the small silver piercing you had decorating your belly button. 
You were Hecate in the flesh- dark, sinister, mysterious and capable of anything. Ellie didn’t think that it would be possible, but you were even prettier in person. The sight of you sent a shock through her system, and for a second she felt her knees quiver, as if she could no longer hold up the weight of her own body. Her insides turned to mush; white, hot mush. 
The Stendhal syndrome: Ellie had been brought to the very precipice of existence by sight alone. She was so overcome by your mere existence that she felt her eyes begin to well up with tears. Body trembling, eyes locked on to your face and nothing else- it felt like she might faint. She remembered reading about the syndrome once before in an art history class she took in college. 
“Absorbed in the contemplation of sublime beauty. . . I reached the point where one encounters celestial sensations.” 
The urge to flee was just as great as the urge to get her hands on you was. She was thankful for the wide stance she was currently in, because if her legs had been any closer together then she was positive she would have lost her balance and fallen over. 
You were right there in front of her. You’d been right in front of her the entire time, she’d just been so focused on Gene that she hadn’t even seen you in her panic. She stumbled forward, her sneakered foot catching the jack for the amp. She slapped her hands over her ears as a blood curdling screech began blaring over the speakers. 
Ellie could have died. In fact. . . she just might. She dropped her guitar roughly on the ground as she raced over towards the amp, fingers shaking as she turned the knob to the volume.
The booth, once again, was silent. Silent enough to hear a pin drop. Slowly she turned, grimacing when she noticed the looks on everyone’s faces. She’d embarrassed herself and ruined her chance. Even worse was the fact that she’d humiliated herself in front of you. 
She had somehow deluded herself into believing that the two of you were soulmates over the years. She’d compared your birth charts, life numbers- had taken multiple celebrity compatibility tests. All signs pointed to a resounding yes. The two of you were star crossed lovers, cursed to never know one another. She had told herself that if she were ever to bump into you in person that she’d be able to keep her cool. Ellie was certain that she could pretend that she didn’t know who you are- could downplay the significance that you held  
Her ignorance was laughable. She’d been so overcome by your mere presence that she’d stumbled on air while standing completely still. You were standing up straight now, and even from her spot behind the thick glass she could tell how much taller you were than her. You had to be wearing heels or platforms, because according to Google you were- 
“You know how many auditions we’ve listened to today?” You had grappled the mic from the tech and were now hunched over his soundboard, the lights from all of the buttons and knobs casting strange, beautiful shadows over your face. Your eyeliner was dark and smoked out around your eyes, and in that moment Ellie wondered if you were an angel or a demon. “Twelve. Twelve fuckin’ people have walked into that booth today. Every single one of them has been absolute shit. So bad, in fact, that I’ve wanted to blow my fuckin’ brains out in this buildings tiny, piss-stained bathroom.” 
Ellie blanched, lips losing their pink color as the blood drained from her face. She was about to pass out. Her vision was already starting to tunnel. She grabbed onto one of the microphone stands to hold herself up, trying to keep her expression hard and unreadable. People often told her that she had “dead eyes”, and she could only pray that her face wasn’t giving her crushing grief away. It felt like someone had just died; like she had just died. Actually, she would have rather you just go ahead and stab her then tell her she sucked. You were her idol, her dream girl, her everything. 
And you were telling her that you’d rather blow your fucking brains out then listen to her play. How was she supposed to recover from this? She’d heard the saying “don’t meet your heroes” a thousand times, but this? She’d rather you just be a bitch to her. Actually, Ellie would probably like that. This was the worst thing she could have ever heard. Her nose twitched as tears began pooling in her eyes. She blinked a few times, praying that you couldn’t tell in the nearly pitch black room you were standing in. 
“But this?” You turned towards your manager and pointed passionately at Ellie. “This is music.” 
Breath left her lungs in a loud, audible whooshing sound, like a balloon deflating. Her shoulders relaxed, the hand that was white knuckling the mic stand falling limp at her side. No, you didn’t hate her. You liked her. 
You liked her. 
Everyone had their vices. Leon’s had, apparently, been copious amounts of prescription drugs- often consumed simultaneously. You were used to getting what you wanted. You drank whenever you wanted to, fucked just about anyone that peaked your interest and got away with your usual rotten antics and bitchy behavior. You lived the lifestyle that you’d always dreamt of, even when you were a little kid. 
You enjoyed putting on shows. You were flamboyant, loud, and weren’t afraid of expressing yourself. Teachers often described you as a “free thinker” back in your elementary school days. You dressed yourself for school each morning, each outfit louder and more daring than the next. You were an artist, and like most artists you had some inner demons that you fought against. You still fought tooth and nail, even to this day. 
Finally though, after what felt like a thousand years of waiting and biding your time, you had the life you had always yearned for. 
You sold out arenas, appeared on the front page of just about every magazine imaginable, and had celebrities clamoring over themselves to be your “best friend” of the week. Things were good. 
But also a bit empty. 
The friends that you’d made in your youth only used your name for bragging rights. Your parents had stopped showing up to concerts years ago, instead choosing to listen about your successes through their shitty television shows. Life felt a bit hollow.
Exciting. . . just different than you had always been used to. 
“Come play with us.” One of the women whined from her spot on your plush hotel mattress. The bombshell blonde was already stripped down to her underwear, her eyes glazed over from whatever overpriced alcohol she’d already taken from the suite's bar, at your expense no doubt. 
Your manager was used to the up-charges on the company card. He would probably be relieved in the morning when he found out that you didn’t break anything. There was still time for that, of course. It was only one in the morning, which meant you had nine more hours to get fucked up and wreck the cushy room. 
“I’m not feeling up to it right now.” You said simply, already disinterested in the two women you had invited to bed with you tonight. You were holding a beer bottle loosely between two of your fingers, swishing the remainder of the room temperature alcohol absentmindedly.
You weren’t much of an “observer” when it came to sex, more of a very active participant. Still, all you could do was sit back in one of the comfortable lounge chairs, muscles tense after a long show. You weren’t exactly sure why you’d invited the women back to the hotel. They were both attractive and had come onto you at the same time. It was obvious what they had been insinuating, and who were you to deny two beautiful women? The first thing that had popped into your head being “a threesome might make me happy”.
Except now you were bored out of your skull and would much rather be sleeping right now than watch two ditzy girls clumsily fondle each other’s fake breasts. 
“Please? I want you to fuck me so bad-” There was a knock at the door, causing both girls to go silent for a second. 
You pinched the bridge of your nose, exhaustion threatening to swallow you up whole. If it was your manager here to yell at you for “accidentally” breaking an amp at tonight's show you were going to scream. It was too late for that bullshit. Still, you saw this excuse as a blessing. 
“Hear that, ladies? Looks like we’ve gotta pack it up. Thanks for showing me a good time.” You stood up from the seat with a small groan, placing your beer bottle onto the counter clumsily. The glass clattered, almost spilling all over the shag carpet. 
The two girls groaned, obviously frustrated that they hadn’t successfully gotten you into bed with them. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you lately. If this had happened a few months ago then. . . well, you would have fucked them- no questions asked. Were you maturing out of your “wild and crazy” phase? No, you didn’t think so. 
You bent down, scooping up a discarded bra so that you could toss it onto the bed. Fabric rustled behind you as they began to quickly sort themselves out, hoping to beat you to the door. 
“Who is it?” You called out in a sing-song voice, deciding that if your manager was already angry enough to show up in front of your door at one in the morning then you might as well have a little fun with it. 
There was no reply on the other side of the door, causing you to scoff. He was giving you the silent treatment. You reached out for the door handle, only to have your shirt yanked on by one of the women. You could hear the seams ripping against the weight of her, her eyes wide with desperation. 
“Please let me show you a good time. I promise I’m good- I swear.” There was a fear of rejection there, you could tell. 
You felt a bit guilty and were quick to lean in to press a kiss on her cheek. “Baby, you’re gorgeous. I’m sure you would have been wonderful- but I’m tired. That’s all, okay? It’s nothing personal.” 
And with that you opened the door. The air from the hallway was brisk, causing goosebumps to instantly break out on your bare arms and legs. You were expecting the balding, bespectacled Barry to be standing on the other side of the door, all in a huff about “expenses” and “damages to the venue”. Blah, blah, blah. 
Instead it was Ellie. A very broken looking Ellie. 
The girls were quick to straighten out their outfits, their attention now turned towards the guitarist. Groupies like this didn’t care who they slept with, just so long as they were getting it in with someone that was in the band. 
“You’re Emma. . . right? The new guitarist? You were so great tonight. I mean- Leon was always a bit of a poser anyway. You’re killing it.” One of the girls started, moving to stand next to you in the doorway. 
You weren’t sure why, but you felt angry. Genuinely angry. Were you jealous of Ellie? No, because you were sure they would still rather fuck you than her. You’d been their first choice, afterall. Maybe you felt the need to shelter Ellie a bit? Yeah, that had to be it. She was still learning the ropes, and the last thing she needed was to be sexually harassed in a hotel hallway.
“. . . -lie” She was mumbling under her breath, eyes locked on the expensive carpet beneath her ratty old sneakers. 
She had changed out of her stage clothes and put on jeans and a t-shirt. Her hair looked wet too, meaning she’d already taken a shower. She smelled earthy- Alpine, even. 
You leaned against the frame, slamming your hand against the doorway to box the two women in, hoping to keep them away from the newbie. They flinched but both seemingly weren’t off put in their newfound pursuit. 
“You’re the most talented guitarist I’ve ever seen live. I mean. . . your solos were incredible.” You hadn’t managed to successfully remember the girl’s names. Just that they were friends with two guys that had worked security for the venue tonight. People often took advantage of connections like that in order to get close to you and your bandmates. It usually worked too. Tonight was different though. Tonight you had a real stick up your ass. 
Ashley? Amber? Sophie? God, you were bad with names.
“. . . -is Ellie.” Your guitarist mumbled again, slowly moving back down the hall in the direction of her suite. 
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion over her attitude, and you were quick to stumble out of your room and down the hall after her. 
“Wait! Emma, can we get an autograph!” One of the half naked girls called after the two of you, trying desperately to shrug on her shirt to follow after. 
Ellie turned then, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. You’d. . . You’d never seen her like that before. 
“My name is fucking Ellie! Who is Emma? Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” She dug her hand into the back pocket of her jeans, trying desperately to find her keycard. 
The girls gasped at her outburst, jostled by the look of pure evil on her face. Even you were taken aback, not used to this kind of attitude from her. Still, you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t know why she was acting like this. 
Ellie was what some would call a “mega fan”, though that would be putting it lightly. The word “stalker” would be more appropriate. Your manager knew that before he even messaged her for an audition. He’d checked all of her social media sites and scrubbed the internet for anything he could find on her. One thing was made very clear: 
Ellie was obsessed with you. 
For whatever reason she seemed to be keeping it a secret from Gene and Chris. All she fessed up to them was that she enjoyed your music, which was why she’d auditioned in the first place. She’d conveniently left out the dedicated fan blogs and the status of her cult-like following.
You didn’t mind it. Sure, it was a bit creepy. . . but she was talented and you liked her. She could hold her own against Gene and Chris’ constant asshole behavior, and had been receptive to Barry trying to teach her the ropes of the business. It was obvious that she wanted this, even if her motives weren’t exactly purely for the music. You’d let her be as close to you as she wanted if it meant that she’d continue playing the way that she does. The crowd had loved her, and it was only her second show with the band. 
She was a bit shy, but that would pass eventually. You remember your early debut days vividly. You’d been just like her, maybe even a little worse. 
“Hey, stop for a second.” You reached out to grab her wrist, stopping her from fleeing after her outburst. She turned to glare at you, but her eyes softened as she took in your features. 
You could feel her arm trembling in your grasp, so you gently let go. No matter how many times you touched her or spent time with her, she still seemed to get overly nervous in your presence. It was endearing. 
“Aren’t you a bit busy? Don’t let me ruin your fun-” She was being sarcastic. 
“I was done with them by the time you knocked on the door. They aren’t exactly my type. I’m not sure why I even invited them back in the first place.” If you had to guess, you’d probably done it out of habit. You were used to inviting people back to your room or tour bus. 
Ellie didn’t seem pleased by your answer. If anything it seemed to upset her even more. She bristled, reaching back into her pocket for her keycard. What did she want to hear? That you hadn’t touched them? You groaned, wiping an exhausted hand down your face. 
The elevator dinged behind you, meaning the girls had finally taken the hint and were leaving with their tails tucked between their legs. 
“Are you jealous or something?” You asked once the elevator doors were closed. The last thing you needed were the girls trying to sell information to some shitty gossip magazine. 
She froze, eyes going wide and lips going pale. It was almost like she didn’t think that you knew all about her dirty little secret. A part of you wanted to tease her. Really make her squirm. 
“Why would I be jealous? Those girls weren’t exactly my type either.” She was good at playing things off. Ellie was a good liar. 
But you were good at sniffing out the bullshit. It was one of your many talents. 
“Not of me,” You leaned against the wall next to her door, watching with curious eyes as she began fumbling in her pockets for her key. “Of them. Do you wish I had taken you back to my room or something?” You cooed flirtatiously, flashing her one of your most sinister smiles. 
She coughed, turning around so that she could hide her face from you. This nearly had you groaning out loud in disappointment. Was she blushing? Do her freckles look even brighter when her skin gets all pink and hot? 
Nah, it was dangerous to think like this. Band members were always off limits. It was a recipe for disaster. The last thing you needed was another Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham situation on your hands. Your PR team wouldn’t be able to recover. They’d just barely gotten over the “Leon” incident by the skin of their teeth. 
Your old band member having to be tackled by three cops in a hotel lobby was horrible. It made you look sloppy. And sleeping with the brand new edition to the band was definitely sloppy. 
“You’re acting crazy.” Ellie told you, shoving the keycard into the lock so that she could clammer into her room. 
Pushing the boundaries was sort of your thing. You enjoyed being bad, fuck the consequences. Right about now you wanted to kiss Ellie. What would her reaction be? Was she a good kisser? You wanted to know. No- you needed to know. 
“You’re right. I’m talking nonsense, don’t listen to me,” You called after her into the room. “Sweet dreams.” 
And with that you sauntered back to your own room, practically purring in delight over the fact that it had been that easy to get to Ellie like that. You loved pushing the boundaries. . . and now you had a new toy to play with.
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spitdrunken · 10 months ago
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Vox x Reader Relationship Headcanons
This post contains SPOILERS in the sense that it is based off of the version of Vox as presented in episode 2. None of the actual plot points featured within are discussed. notes: background vox x valentino / polyamory (reader only dates vox), extremely unhealthy relationships, stalking, manipulation, hypnosis, power imbalance. kidnapping + physical abuse mention (neither done by vox)
To catch the eye of a demon as powerful as Vox is not an ideal situation. While he could be considered more levelheaded than your average demon, and certainly is when compared to his associates, he still has things that rile him up like no other. No, he doesn’t have a whole string of sexual partners to use and abuse like Valentino does, but that makes the weight of his gaze all the more crushing when it does fall upon someone.
Once you’ve got his interest, it’s practically impossible to slip away from him. He’s got vantage points all across the Pride Ring, being able to slip in and out of its many scattered screens with ease. While the usual tracking Vox Media subjects its customers to is already an invasion of privacy, yours would be on a whole other level.
With how inescapable his company is amongst Sinner demons, it’s more than likely you’ve at least got some kind of device he’d be able to peer into. As soon as your phone is being plugged into a port, he’d be skimming through your messages and search history. Though your face-to-face meetings might have been minimal or non-existent at this point, he would already know far more about you than most of your friends. …You should really clear out your search history more often. But, hey, he’s not unhappy about it! There’s no traces of his presence as soon as he’s done.
Vox cares a great deal about his reputation and image. Not only because he’s the very face of a high-earning brand, but it is also simply the kind of person he is. Whereas someone like Valentino might have gone right ahead and shot any possible partner in the head, Vox is much more careful than that. What would people think, if he simply went around and started electrocuting a bunch of unknowns to death? No, that’s just not his way of doing things whatsoever.
Even besides that, there’s also much more satisfaction in it, to him, to convince you to leave them and join him, of your own accord. Vox has always been the brain behind all operations, the meticulous and thoughtful one, the one who got investors on board and appeared in interviews. In other words, he’s become quite good with words, and can easily come off as charming whenever he so wishes. That is exactly the way he will present himself to you, at least at first: a demon unlike other demons, practically a gentleman.
You wouldn’t have known him from his early days, the time where he still made mistakes, and nobody knew his name. When he invites you over for dinner (through an email that you’re convinced is fake spam, the first couple of times you receive it), he wants to appear nothing but infallible and powerful to you. You, who is only familiar with him through screens, as a flawless news presenter, gameshow host, and much more. A smile would never leave his screen, and he is constantly courteous.
He’s got a couple of expensive gifts at the ready as well, ones that hail from his own company. Perhaps it’s the newest iteration in his own line of phones, or a brand-new kind of security system. He’ll wave off any kind of dismissal of his gift, telling to just take it, you don’t even know how many of those he has lying around! Trust him. (In fact, they are modified to grant him even more easy access into your life. A constant stream of information directed at him, with Vox never even having to enter your device anymore.)
In a place like the Pride Ring in Hell, existence is demeaning at best, and utterly miserable at worst, for the average demon. Vox is more than aware of this and, at first, doesn’t even try his absolute best to sweep you off your feet. The power and the safety net someone such as himself would provide would be more than enough for most people. For the average demon, time spent by his side would be a vast improvement, and no one can deny that.
And, in this case, he is most likely interested in someone with far less power than him: you. Whether actively aware of it or not, and if he was, he’d never admit it, a part of Vox desires to be with someone from whom affection comes more easily. And that is… Not Valentino. Not that he’d ever separate from him, mind you, you’d simply be the antithesis to him. If you aren’t, he’ll make you something closer to that.
One of the largest drawbacks that immediately becomes noticeable, is the political target spending time around Vox makes you. Whether he purposefully makes the two of you appear in Hell’s largest tabloid, or only goes someplace where the two of you are sure to be spotted, you’ll surely become a demon worthy of kidnapping after this. It is exactly this, and the fear that comes along with it, that Vox would weaponize against you.
Wouldn’t it be much better, and safer, to stay in one of the company’s buildings? You’re bound to get kidnapped anywhere else, you know. He’s just looking out for you! Really though, he’d never let something like that happened to you. Not only because such an occurence would cause his reputation to take a great hit, but also because he cares! The praises he heaps on top of you are never outright lies, though some are perhaps exaggerated. He wouldn’t spend so much time on a demon he wasn’t genuinely interested in.
Vox, to the vast majority of people, would come on too strong, and too fast. The kind of attention that comes from someone who hasn’t been denied anything in a long time. At the same time, underneath his collected demeanor, seen in his stalking and meticulous collection of information, there is something that could be seen as a glimmer of desperation.
One might stop and think that, if he truly were as capable and faultless as he makes himself out to be, why would he go through all of this trouble? Wouldn’t simply being himself, or something rather close to it, be enough? This is truly where the heart of the issue, his deeply-hidden insecurity, shines through. Besides just the way the thought of being rejected by you upsets him, as well as he tries to hide it, he can’t simply back out, now that he’s spent so much time around you. He’d never live it down.
If, for some reason, ‘diplomacy’ and his usual wooing doesn’t work… He’s an Overlord for a reason. He still has plenty of tricks left up his sleeve. He can manipulate any digital image he wants, including video, without ever touching editing software. Vox can show you the people closest to you saying outright brutal things about you, with their exact mannerisms and voice. All data gathered through the various devices of his he owns, then capable of creating replicas. In a limited way, he can bend reality to his will.
If even that doesn’t work, he has his powers of hypnosis as a last resort. In this case, he doesn’t like having to use them, would have preferred the satisfaction over getting you to fawn over him all on your own… But it’s just so much easier to plant a little trigger inside your brain. For him to snap his fingers, and have you become more agreeable. Your thoughts growing that tiniest bit hazier, your head the slightest bit heavier.
All you have to do is look into his eyes, and take a deep breath… That’s better, isn’t it? What were you even getting so upset about before, huh? (And again, hypnosis is a last resort here. He’s spent so many years dealing with Valentino’s temper tantrums that he’s an expert at diffusing any kind of argument, and nothing surprises anymore.)
Vox wouldn’t be likely to physically hurt you at all. He sees himself as being capable of more self-control than that, even when in the throes of jealousy. Really, the one you should be most afraid of during this entire ordeal is Valentino. While their relationship is by no means monogamous, and it never will be, he’s still used to being the center of attention. He uses violence and unpredictability to have Vox, largely, at his every beck and call. While Vox isn’t used to having denied things, Valentino’s is many times worse about it.
Initially, he ignores you. Designating you as some kind of fling, not even worthy of being one of his whores, soon ready to be forgotten. Vox doesn’t do those kinds of things all that often but, hey, anything’s bound to happen with an eternity of time to kill, right? It’s only when you become a more permanent fixture in their life that he really becomes more of a threat.
He’ll let his temper cut loose, specifically during times where the two of you are spending time together, causing mayhem around the company. If Vox’s attention is entirely unwanted, this may even be a welcome reprieve for you. Still, Valentino being jealous of you should be about the last thing you want. Frankly, it makes you liable to get shot on a bad day, or because of a poorly worded comment.
…Perhaps it would be better to stay close to Vox, then.
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endversewinchester · 1 month ago
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When I see people fighting with darklina shippers I wonder what they took from the Shadow and Bone trilogy. And I don't mean the basic things like "he's a bad person". I mean the fact the story is at it's core a story on how different people process the struggles of war, and the outcome of their actions while doing so.
I wonder if they understand malina is not the good, healthy ship, but rather the result of two very young orphans who lost everything and everyone else and bonded on an unhealthy level, to the point where Alina is willing to give up parts of herself to fit Mal's insecurities.
It's not meant to be cute and fluffy. It just is. And in that sense, I wonder if they actually look at the darkling as the full character that Leigh worked her butt off to portray, past the "ewwww, this man is problematic". Especially in times like right now, where genocide and "how far is too far when you are responding to aggression" are being openly discussed by everyone.
Sure, it's easy to reduce the darkling to this toxic abuser. It fits a box you can check and not think about it later, but I find that to be a disservice to Leigh. So many of you are old enough to think about what makes a character tick, and the context that the story is giving you, regardless if you find the characters' actions justifiable or not, and I see so little of that nowadays in every fandom. Where is y'all's media literacy? Comprehension skills? The ability to reflect on such a complex universe as is the grishaverse?
People are allowed to ship the two characters that are opposite sides of the same coin, and grieve over the boy the darkling was and the man he could have been, before the weight of war destroyed him.
Alina certainly did.
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timkontheunsure · 1 month ago
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Socially acceptable pisshead
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Ok this made me think, because yes Blitz has seen Stolas drinking heavily at a party before.
(He definitely had less when they first met but still absinthe aren't no joke. Can be as high as 74% by volume).
By the Not a divorce party is fancy, and the booze Stolas is drinking is expensive.
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And Blitz feels intimated and out of place.
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Compared to the Fuck Blitzo party when he's feeling comfortable walking through a crowd of people that hate him, with the barest effort of disguises.
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I think the more familiar atmosphere is what makes Stolas unhealthy coping strategy click with Blitz.
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They are very alike after all.🙁
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Sociality in general tend to be less harsh on the rich for drinking excessively, or even normal people at parties throw by the rich.
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Even when Wine Mums are downing bottles a night, because it's seen as if they're earned it.
(Certainly it's alot more acceptable than it would be for the same units of alcohol of beer or cider drink by some like Blitz).
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But the whole thing being familiar make it easier for him to see Stolas is not in a good place.
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That he should be worried for him. He's not quite at the point of seeing Stolas as a real person, and someone that could use his help.
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Or the idiot would have taken him home sleep it off.
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Seriously both are a similar level of inebriated here. And not in a fit state to consent.
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Loona's right here neither of them should be getting into these situations when that out of it and extremely sad.
Don't care what Verosika thinks,
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hope he gets laid is not good advice right now. He's at a party where he knows nobody, is less than 24 hours from a bad break up and plastered.
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Not sure punch Better than Blitzo guy would have been great, but he is being a creep for hitting on someone that out of it.
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the-irreverend · 2 months ago
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The Inferno Theory: The Chara Theory to End All Chara Theories
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Here we are! Nine years of Undertale. And seeing how Chara is heavily associated with the number 9 (AND THAT TOBY FOX FINALLY TALKED ABOUT THEM), I can't think of a better way to celebrate the occasion than by dedicating this 5000-word-long theory about them? Y'all remember when people used to make long-ass theories about Chara? Yeah, they're coming back with a vengeance! To say I have a colossal hyperfixation is a massive understatement. No character in all of fiction has had a bigger impact on my life than this little rose-cheeked, cocoa-addicted freak. I’ve been a Chara fan for as long as I’ve been an Undertale fan, and you can bet that my understanding of them has changed a lot since. And now I have the pleasure of sharing said understandings with y’all!
Once upon a time, there was an aroace autistic who, like most of y’all, had a very unhealthy obsession with Undertale. And unlike most of you, he thought the Genocide Route was really fun. Most fans talk about how unhappy they felt killing everyone, but for me, I felt like a polar bear at a baby harp seal convention. I got a disturbing level of happiness out of turning everyone to dust. Hell, the only unhappiness I felt was when I couldn’t turn Monster Kid to dust.
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Oh well, at least I got a good consolation prize!
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I was one sadistic son of a gun, and so I was even more delighted to find out I had a secret admirer/partner-in-crime and that they joined in on the fun because I was such a goshdarn inspiration to them. Not wishing to disappoint my self-appointed partner, I erased the world without a second thought, eagerly awaiting what we might get to do together.
So you can guess I was pretty taken aback when, instead of a warm welcome, they started lecturing me about how I couldn’t accept the world’s destruction and that I was the one fully responsible for it (even though they were eager to take credit for it earlier). I didn’t think much of it at first. Initially, I just thought that they were just irritated that I was undoing what we had worked so hard to accomplish.
But as this game taught me time after time, you should never trust your first impressions. Those first impressions would crumble to dust when they said this.
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To say I was completely baffled is an understatement. Why the hell would this prepubescent genocidal maniac be so obsessed over whether or not I think I’m above consequences? So obsessed to the point they would tell me to go to hell if I told them no? It was at that moment I realized there was something more to this character than meets the eye. But for a long time, I couldn’t seem to figure out what that something was. And it didn’t seem like anyone could figure that out either.
I’m very much a veteran of the fan wars that have emerged surrounding Chara. In fact, one might even say I am a deserter of sorts, as I am a former member of the Chara Defence Squad, Offense Squad, and Neutralist Squad. But I’m not gonna be a stuck-up and say everyone’s a canon-ignoring idiot except for me and that I’m the only one who knows what Toby Fox intended Chara to be. Even though I ended up with a very different take than yours (and will certainly argue why it’s the best), I owe you all your discussions a huge debt, and I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t gotten invested in your interpretations, to begin with. Not to mention that, contrary to what some may argue, you’ve made some valid points to complement them.
And while the debate that resulted from Chara’s ambiguous morality has led to a lot of controversy and even toxicity, it has also been a source of some FANTASTIC CONTENT. Like seriously, would we have gotten those badass renditions of Stronger Than You if no one thought Chara was an awful person? Would we have gotten Man on the Internet’s beautiful rendition of Star if no one thought Chara was a good person (turned awful)?
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It would be utter hypocrisy for me to ask of you to approach me and my arguments (or anyone who accepts them) with understanding and good faith only to then not do the same to anyone who doesn’t agree with me. In this theory, I will definitely argue why some points made about Chara are flawed; points that you might hold yourself. But that doesn’t automatically mean that you (or your takes) are intellectually or morally inferior to mine. And besides, I’m not Toby Fox.
So with that said, why did I eventually came to disagree with pretty much everyone about Chara? Because, one way or another, I couldn’t find a take that clicked with me personally as I felt there were various inconsistencies and issues holding them back. I looked at YouTube videos, subreddits, Tumblr essays, Twitter threads, and even forums on the Steam Community. But I couldn’t really find what I thought were satisfactory answers to the questions I had about Chara’s motivations, role in the game, and relationship with the player.
And then, one day, I found those answers. It all happened when I asked myself: “What if Chara didn’t turn against me… because they were always against me from the start?!”
I don’t mean that Chara only saw you as a means to an end. I mean that YOU were the end. What if Chara didn’t use you so they could screw over the monsters but they used the monsters so they could screw over YOU.
You probably think I’m insane, don’t you? And you’re right! I AM INSANE! AND SO IS THIS WHOLE DAMN THEORY!!! But somehow, someway, it just works!! And I’ll show you why and how!!!
What you are about to read is the culmination of six years of reading and critiquing Chara takes and theories of every kind and quality, whether it be Judgement Boy’s Who is the Real Villain of Undertale to Wandydoodles’ Oblivion Theory. Six years of examining the arguments and counterarguments of Chara defenders, offenders, and neutralists alike. Six years of looking in every corner of the UTDR fandom. From the tranquil lands of Quora. To the dark recesses of Reddit. To the intellectual wastelands of Twitter. To the fiery hellsite of Tumblr. So, without further ado, get ready for some of the most pure, unadulterated, high-octane, universe-collapsing neurodivergence you’ve ever seen in your life!!!!!
Part 1: The demonic heritage of the "demon who comes when people call its name".
Have you ever had one of those moments where you’ve asked yourself, “What the actual hell is this guy talking about?” I bet you’re having that moment right now. Everything about their character post-death, including their motives, their methods, and their relationship with you, is perfectly reflected in one of their most famous (or rather infamous) lines:
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When most people hear the word demon, the first thing that comes to mind is a being made of pure evil whose only purpose in life is to destroy all things good in the world. Right?
Well, yes, but actually, no. It’s a little more complicated than that. To argue that Chara is a demon because they’re simply “an evil little twerp that enjoys being evil” doesn’t do them or their role in Undertale justice (although that hasn’t stopped people from trying to argue that). To understand why calling themselves a demon is EXTREMELY important, we need to dive into the wonderful (and totally not controversial) world of religious beliefs!
In ancient and modern religions, demons are a little more complex than just ethereal jackasses with a vendetta against virtue and righteousness. Though they vary from faith to faith, most demons have a specific set of qualities and tropes that make them integral to whatever faith they’re in. You also see these demonic qualities in fiction that’s derived or inspired by religions, and since Undertale’s lore and worldbuilding have a heavy emphasis on the spiritual and divine, you can see them in Chara. Since Undertale is a game of “Western” origin, you can definitely see they share qualities that are all too familiar with devils of “Western” religions. In classic devil fashion, they target those with weak integrities or suspect morals; they tempt you with the promise of fulfilling your desires at your and everyone else’s expense; they’re able to control your body as you grow their power through your sins, and hell, they even do the thing where they make a deal for your soul. Also...
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But though it's evident that Chara encourages you to do “evil,” THEY THEMSELVES are not responsible for it. Yes, Chara encouraged you to kill, but YOU are the one who acted on those encouragements. In fact, YOU are the one who encouraged THEM to help you out! They walked down the dark path with you, but you didn’t really give them anywhere else they could walk. You had all the power and every chance to turn back and no reason to keep walking. And yet you persisted.
But that does beg the question, why did you walk it at all? What could possibly inspire you to give all of these characters happiness, satisfaction, and peace and then rip it all away? Because you decided that giving everyone the most satisfying ending was not satisfying enough for you. Because there was more that you could experience for yourself, even if it meant making everyone else experience something absolutely horrific. It wasn’t enough for you to fill the glass only halfway. You needed to fill it to the brim. You wanted to reach the absolute. Even if doing the Genocide Run was a bad experience for you, you CANNOT deny it was a fulfilling one. And Chara knows it, too. It ain’t exactly a coincidence that fulfillment and fullness are recurring motifs in Chara’s character.
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Like all demons, Chara is able to tempt the wicked and sinful by targeting our greatest weaknesses and deficiencies. It’s no different from how Succubi and Incubi target those who succumb to the sin of lust. That’s why you won’t go after my aroace ass anytime soon. But I digress.
But Chara doesn't just tempt us by exploiting our need to fill the glass to the brim but also because of how they exploit the satisfaction we get from watching it fill up, that is to say, the satisfaction that comes from trying to achieve fulfillment.
We humans are addicted to progression as much as we are to completion, and in an RPG like Undertale, the satisfaction of progression comes in the form of NUMBERS. Not just the numbers that flash on the screen when you battle enemies but also the ones that go up when you finish said enemies off, whether it be your hit points, experience points, and so on. And Undertale isn’t any ordinary RPG; it’s one where its RPG elements are interwoven into the fabric of the game’s universe. Because of that, Chara is able to use these elements in their world to influence those outside of it.
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But Chara does not just influence us through the numbers that increase but also the ones that decrease. That’s why the first thing they do when we reach Snowdin is give us a tally. 
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It’s not just there to measure progress. It’s also there to incentivize us to keep progressing. It gives us a small dose of satisfaction that’s enough to distract us from the mundanity and misery of the murder run, like a loading bar on a loading screen. And just like with loading screens, the farther it progresses, the harder it gets to turn away. Why would you want all the lives you’ve taken and the stats you’ve gained to amount to nothing? Why would you want to hit reset and go through those brutal fights with Sans and Undyne again? You can’t empty out the glass, not when you’re that much closer to filling it to the brim. Speaking of Sans and Undyne, it’s quite interesting that even though they barely know you, they know exactly why you won’t take your foot off the pedal, so to speak.
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But that’s not the only thing driving you, isn’t it? Chara knows that there was something else that was spurning you along. Something more powerful and more dangerous than your addiction to progression and completion: PRIDE. 
Perhaps the real reason you kept giving in to sin until it was far too late was because you didn’t think it would be too late. You didn’t hold back because you thought you would be able to go back. You thought you could just absolve your sins with the press of a button like you did in countless worlds before. You thought you could dive in, touch the bottom, and come back out of the water. But what were you getting into? How deep would you have gone? And would you have gone in if you knew you couldn’t possibly return? You know you wouldn’t. And Chara knows it, too. That brings us back to the dialogue I showed you at the beginning of this theory. The one said changed everything I knew about this character, and I firmly believe that this is the MOST important line of dialogue in the entire franchise.
PART 2: THE PART WHERE I (PRETEND TO) DESTROY 9 YEARS OF ESTABLISHED FANON!
When I say that that little blurb about being above consequences is ABSOLUTELY ESSENTIAL, I do not say that lightly. It isn’t just important to Chara's character, but the game of Undertale as a whole! Anyone who’s serious about Chara’s character should never take this for granted because Chara sure as hell does not.
It’s not just our refusal to accept the world’s destruction that’s a huge-ass deal to Chara; it’s the arrogance and complacency that accompanies it, rooted in the position and privileges we have as the player. It matters to them so much that they’re willing to completely forgo bartering for our soul (which they say they want) if we don’t admit that we have that belief!
And yet, despite Chara taking this subject so seriously, the people who are analyzing their character ironically don’t. Generally speaking, most people simply brush this line off as nothing more than something they do to help them on their quest to achieve their goals. So, with that said, let’s talk about what those supposed goals actually are.
In all my years of reading and assessing countless Chara theories and interpretations, I’ve discovered that everyone actually agrees on what Chara's goals are. They just can’t agree on why they want them. Said goals are A) reach the absolute, B) max out their numbers/power, C) erase the world, and/or D) eradicate all monsters. But what if it’s actually the other way around? What if those things were the means to an end rather than the ends themselves?
What if the true goal of the “demon who comes when people call its name” was just like that of the demons of old: not to be your partner in crime, but to torment and punish you for your crimes? To make you face CONSEQUENCES!
I’m not making this argument simply because it makes Chara look more badass (though I think it totally does, lol). I firmly believe that Undertale’s post-Genocide content is written so that Chara’s character can only make sense if that was Chara’s goal from start to finish. Because if Chara’s endgame was any of those four I mentioned earlier, their character kinda falls apart because they're awfully inconsistent about fulfilling them. And those inconsistencies are evident in the Second Geno Ending.
Discrepancy 1) They say they will “appear time and time again” to help us “eradicate the enemy and become strong,” and yet they call us perverted for eradicating everyone time and time again.
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You can argue that they didn’t want us to recreate the world in the first place and just move on to another world, but if so, why let us come back at all? And if it’s to get our soul, why do they keep around this world after we have it? This leads us to...
Discrepancy 2) They tell us to ERASE the world and move on to the next, and yet they allow us to restore it without a hitch after we give them our SOUL, seeing how there’s no black void when we start the game again.
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If Chara was powerless to stop us from coming back, this wouldn’t be such a big deal. But they CLEARLY DEMONSTRATE that they’re able to stop the player from restoring the world, as seen in the first post-genocide ending. And yet they don’t use this power after the first time the world is erased (WHICH YOU WOULD THINK THEY WOULD WANT TO USE SINCE THEY WANT TO ERASE THE WORLD AND MOVE ON TO ANOTHER)! Seeing how the world is back again without us doing anything makes the restoration of the world like something that Chara CHOSE ON THEIR OWN VOLITION. And what makes this all the more damning is...
Discrepancy 3) They tell us they’re down bad for increasing our ATK, DEF, EXP, and LV to the max and erasing the world and everyone in it, and yet they TELL US TO DEVIATE FROM THE ONLY ROUTE THAT ACCOMPLISHES THAT (which, as stated before, they call us perverse for doing it again).
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So, let me get something straight. You tell us you want to ”eradicate the enemy” and “ erase this pointless world,” and yet not only are you allowing us to undo all of that, you want us to do something INSTEAD OF THAT??? It’s funny how you lecture us about how we cannot accept the world’s destruction BECAUSE, APPARENTLY, YOU WON’T EITHER!!!!! Also, before I forget...
Discrepancy 4)
WHAT KIND OF MISANTHROPE DEDICATES THEIR WHOLE LIFE TO WIPING OUT HUMANITY, GETS GIFT-WRAPPED A CHANCE TO DO THAT, AND THEN JUST PASSES IT UP?!?!?!
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On behalf of misanthropes everywhere, I am DEEPLY disappointed in you!
So it doesn’t matter if you believe Chara is always evil, good, or detached from morality entirely. Because Chara has the same goal across all versions, they all succumb to the same inconsistencies!
Funny how most people see them as this embodiment of the addictive nature of levelling up and consuming everything in a piece of media and all that jazz WHEN THEY SEEM TO CASUALLY GIVE UP ON IT!!!!!!
And if you argue they want a Soulless Pacifist Run when they suggest “another path,” then ask yourself, what does that give them that a Genocide Run doesn’t? Keep in mind, aside from a scribbled-out photograph, we don’t see how many monsters or humans they killed besides the main characters or how much power and stats they gained from it. And it’s not like we see them erase the world afterward since only the genocide run has that infamous wall of red 9s. Not to mention, the genocide run is the most secure way of accomplishing their goals since they have the backing of the player. Not only that, but it’s also the safest and most efficient way to erase everyone and increase stats to the fullest, and we all know how Chara feels about efficiency.
So Chara has no reason to pick the Soulless pacifist ending over the Genocide Run if they want to achieve their end of increasing numbers and consuming the world… unless those things were a means to an end rather than ends themselves.
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Indeed it is coming together! That’s the other reason their statement, “You think you’re above consequences,” is so damn important! They’re not telling us why we sinned, but it reveals they intend to make us suffer for those sins, and how.
That’s why Chara is seemingly so inconsistent about erasing the world. Because it was never about the world. It was all about YOU.
[SIDE NOTE: I’m sure many of you will point out that if Chara wanted us to get a Soulless ending in this world, then why would they encourage us to “move on to the next?” I don’t think this is too big an issue for two reasons. First, this line is meant to emphasize that, like all demons, Chara is inescapable and that no matter what world you go to (within their own universe), Chara will always follow you now that you’ve unleashed them. Second, because their goal concerns us and not the world they’re a part of, their character avoids the aforementioned inconsistencies that hamper the other Chara theories much more severely, in my opinion.]
Part 3: Contrapasso
Now I’m sure some of y’all might think that Chara doesn’t need to yearn for our torment to achieve the impact of the Soulless ending and that just because Chara is a demon doesn’t automatically mean they need to screw us over. You are right in that not everyone who makes a Faustian Bargain needs to have malicious intentions toward the people they’re taking advantage of (Kuybey from Madoka Magica is a great example of that). But Chara does need it! Not only does it make their character more narratively cohesive, but also makes their character more thematically impactful. And it’s more in tune with their demonic nature for them to want to torment us.
Because demons represent something more terrifying than evil itself. They represent the terrible price of embracing it, a price that all evildoers fear more than anything, and that all demons want seek to inflict upon us. Like most demons, Chara isn’t encouraging us to sin to fill the emptiness in our soul (or even their own). They did it to perpetuate that torturously empty and unfulfilled state for all eternity, a state which even themselves now endure.
Now, you’ve probably noticed that I’ve talked a lot about the themes of fulfillment and emptiness, and it’s for a good reason since those themes are heavily featured in Undertale. I mean, how could it not? Because concepts of demons, hell, and sins (which are explicitly mentioned in the game) are deeply intertwined with the concept of emptiness. The theologian Thomas Aquinas once defined evil as not a presence but as an absence (of that which is good). Darkness is the absence of light; war is the absence of peace; bigotry is the absence of tolerance; pride is the absence of humility, etc. You see this reflected in not just Christian theology but also fiction as a whole, as a lot of villains are motivated by a desire to obtain something that they believe can’t be without. Whether it be wealth, status, recognition, power, the death of an individual, or even just sadistic pleasure.
Since demons are beings that are inseparable from evil itself, the life of a demon is forever cursed by unceasing and unbearable emptiness. Hell, the word damnation originated from the Latin word damnum, which literally means loss! They’re not exactly partying in hell while your immortal soul is being slow-roasted for eternity. They’re burning in that lake of fire and brimstone along with you! They can’t end their damnation, not because they don’t want to but because they simply can’t. They’re fated to be bereft of the satisfaction or fulfillment found in Heaven or Earth, a fate that is worse than death in every sense of the word, especially since they can’t experience death anymore. Because of that, a demon embodies what is perhaps the most terrifying form of evil of all: not one rooted in a desire to rid the emptiness and unfulfillment within themselves, but a desire to inflict them upon others. Because as a wise philosopher once said:
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We see this horrific state of mutually assured suffering everywhere across fiction. From goofy, lighthearted tokusatsu's...
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...to nightmarish sci-fi dystopias...
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...to a little indie game made 9 years ago.
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Oh yeah. Don’t think I was gonna talk about emptiness without mentioning everyone’s favourite homicidal fauna-turned-flora, especially not with lines like this.
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Take one to know one! And it can’t be a coincidence that the game emphasizes the theme of emptiness when giving the spotlight to the three characters that have committed the most “evil”: Flowey/Asriel, Chara, and YOU.
Quite the unholy trinity going on here, eh? It truly is fascinating how the emptiness led us to work with each other to exterminate all monsters. And it’s also interesting how the unique kind of emptiness we have eventually led us to work against each other. Whether it be Flowey wishing to preserve his sentimentality for his long-gone sibling, us players wanting to maintain our (perverted) sentimentality for the world of Undertale, or Chara weaponizing these sentimentalities to exact their misanthropic hatred.
Remember how I said that Chara was a lousy misanthrope because they keep letting us bring back the humans they wanted annihilated when they were alive? That does make them a lousy misanthrope… unless their misanthropy found a higher priority target: YOU!!!!! Chara’s desire to torment us didn’t come out of thin air. The same hatred that drove them to wipe out the humans of their world years ago is the same hatred that’s driving them to get at the humans of our world, even if it means destroying those who once embraced them. And now, that hatred is more potent and destructive than ever before, so much so that it’s no wonder Toriel was able to feel it when she endured that fatal blow after the Geno Run began.
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Do you think witnessing what soullessness did to sweet little Asriel wasn’t already terrifying and tragic enough? Just try to imagine what it could‘ve done to a vengeful, traumatized, chocolate-addicted problem child so consumed by hatred that they poisoned themselves just for a chance to wipe out their own kind. All of that hatred of humanity is still alive and well, and now it has no humanity to hold it back. 
And what could be a more fitting target for a MISANTHROPE that calls themselves a DEMON… than a HUMAN that wants to play GOD?
After all, the only thing demons love more than tormenting mortals is warring with Gods.
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Why else do you think that Chara winks right at you if we make Frisk stay with Toriel? Because that’s who the Soulless Ending was meant for. It’s when they’re finally able to unleash all that animosity and hatred that’s been lurking behind that smile ever since we killed everyone in the Ruins. It’s the moment that they’ve been patiently waiting for because they knew that’s when it would hit you the hardest.
And what makes the Soulless Pacifist Ending very special compared to other “bad endings” isn’t simply because they destroy those we pretend to care about (may I remind you that you did do the genocide run, after all). But they destroy something much more valuable to us as the players: OUR OMNIPOTENCE. Chara doesn’t destroy people for the sake of destroying them. But because in doing so they destroy our arrogant belief that nothing could possibly challenge the invisibility and invulnerability we players take for granted.
It's all too human that those with the most power are the least willing to lose it (or even take responsibility for it). And in a world where we should have absolute power, we thought there would be no consequences for abusing it. So what could be a more fitting and frightful punishment than having to actually face them? Missing out on the best ending in a video game is one thing. But to forever lose the power to achieve it ever again?! Now that’s terrifying!
Throughout myth, legend, and religion, sinners are often punished in a way befitting of the sin they’ve committed. In Greek Mythology, Tantalus was damned for trying to feed the Gods the flesh of his murdered son with eternal hunger and thirst despite being within arm’s reach of water and food. In Dante’s Inferno, those who succumb to wrath are forever doomed to fight each other in a river of mud. And since Undertale is no stranger to concepts such as hell, sins, and demons, you can damn well be sure that there’s going to be damnation fitting for the sins that drove you to complete the genocide run.
You completed the Genocide Run because you believed ending their lives would be fulfilling. Now, you can no longer get any fulfillment out of saving their lives.
I mean, where else can you get your precious fulfillment? Those paltry neutral endings? They only offer a fraction of what the pacifist ending offered. And the genocide ending has been drained of its satisfaction like the pacifist! Would you do all that tedious grinding and brutal boss fights just to hear your so-called “partner” lecture you again on perverted sentimentality and say you should choose another path, even though there’s nothing that they could offer? Of course not. In the end, you’re just like poor Tantalus agonizing in the pits of Tartarus, feeling the water vanish from his hands just before it touches his lips.
The ultimate triumph of Chara isn’t making you suffer a total defeat, but perhaps something much worse to you as a gamer: a pyrrhic victory. It’s like having a Twinkie that's been drained of the creamy center. Everything is still there except the thing you treasure most. You’re damned to play a challenge forever deprived of any and all fulfillment you once got from it, a satisfying journey that will always be doomed to reach a dissatisfying destination.
In the end, Chara leaves you with the world exactly as they described it the first time they met you face-to-face: POINTLESS.
You can have the world exactly as it was before (and the people within it). But in the end, Chara will always have the last laugh.
Figuratively and literally.
Welcome to hell!
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Part 4: Why Consequences Matter
Woooooo!!! Man, that was quite the read, wasn’t it? And yeah, I wasn't kidding when I said this is going to be autistic as all hell! I don’t doubt you have a lot of thoughts in your mind, and then you’re gonna share them by the time you’re finished reading this post. Some of you might think this is the Chara theory to end Chara theories. Some of you believe that this is the worst thing that has happened to this fandom since Sebastian Wolff. Some of y’all, I’m whitewashing them because I argue they’re driven by a desire to punish the wicked by any means necessary. Some will think I’m demonizing them because I say that they’re, well, a demon. 
[SIDE NOTE: Just so I don’t miscommunicate what I believe about Chara’s morality, here are some key points to take away from this theory. A) Chara sought to make you pay for the evil you committed. In fact, the idea that the Soulless Ending is Chara punishing our sins has been around for a while, especially by those who think Chara was “corrupted. B) However, in this theory, Chara's actions are all done with the intent of accomplishing that goal. This means that Chara was aware of what they were doing, they wanted to do it, and that THEY KNEW IT WAS EVIL. C) But you still have to remember that Chara is also A LITERAL CHILD. And D) They’re a child who endured a great deal of hardship (and possibly trauma), which made them so embittered and vengeful. Also, E) Remember that they’re also soulless, just like Asriel when he was Flowey.]
But I think most of you were gonna look at this interpretation of Chara and feel the same thing that I have about most of yours: a take that’s not without issues, but not without a fair bit of interesting points.
But regardless of what you think of this theory overall, there’s one thing I won’t leave up for debate: I deeply treasure Chara’s character. Not just because I think they’re fun, cool, or interesting but also because I firmly believe they’re invaluable Undertale. And yet, at the same time, I think they’re severely undervalued by the fandom. And who can blame them?
The characters of Undertale speak very little of Chara, and Chara speaks for themselves even less. But just like Johan Liebert from the anime Monster, even though they’re not seen too often, they still manage to exert a massive presence and impact within Undertale’s narrative. And that presence is made all the more impactful because they perfectly represent the themes of the narrative: and that theme is CONSEQUENCES, or more accurately, the CONSEQUENCES OF VIOLENCE.
From the violence that drove Chara to climb Mt Ebott to the violence their brother Asriel inflicted in hopes of being with them forever. From something as grand as a war between two civilizations to something as small as dismembering a snowman. Everywhere you look, you will see that violence (and its repercussions) haunts the story and characters of Undertale. But what makes Undertale stand out from other media that tackles this subject is that it’s not just an integral part of its narrative but also its metanarrative. The most ingenious way it does this is by giving meaning to the actions/mechanics that we take for granted, specifically monster encounters.
Our Lord and Saviour Toby Fox said it best:
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Because the monsters of Undetale are treated as something more than just enemies to be killed, there are going to be consequences for choosing to kill them away. Some argue that it goes too far in how it admonishes you for killing even a single monster, even to the point of being preachy (I’m looking at you, ScottFalco, but that’s a response for another day).
That argument is deeply flawed because it fails to account for the fact that without these ramifications, the game’s themes would be rendered null and void. The last thing that a game with a narrative centred around the consequences of violence can afford to do is afford you the luxury of avoiding them. And that principle especially applies if you dare to choose nothing BUT violence. //////If you were to bring them all back as if nothing happened, then your decision to commit genocide would be completely meaningless, which would totally disservice Undertale themes regarding violence. There needs to be consequences. LASTING CONSEQUENCES. Undertale can’t drive home its messages and them without lasting consequences. Undertale can’t deliver those consequences without Chara in the driver’s seat. And Chara’s character can only be at their most narratively cohesive and thematically impactful if seeking to make us suffer consequences was their intended destination.
Regardless of whatever detail about Chara you’re discussing or what side of the discussion you’re on, one thing is very clear: they’re absolutely essential to Undertale in the same way that Mephistopheles is essential to Faust, the Cenobites are essential to Hellraiser, and Kuybey is essential to Madoka Magica. And they’re the only ones with the means, motives, and deep-seated misanthropy to hold this whole damn game together.
Sans is right. We deserve to be burning in hell for what we did to those poor monsters. And I can't think of anyone more qualified to have us humans “burning in hell” than a self-proclaimed demon with a seething hatred of humanity.
And how fitting is it that the skeleton who judges our sins is followed by a human child who punishes us for them?
BUT HEY, THAT'S JUST A THEORY!
A CHARA THEORY!
THANKS FOR READING!
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yandere-writer-momo · 10 months ago
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Yandere Kengan Head Canon: Look At Me
Tsundere to yandere Raian Kure x Afab Reader x one sided Lihito
TW: unhealthy behavior, cursing, degradation, breeding kink (Kure family), baby trapping (mentioned), Dacryphilia, etc.
@bobawitch13
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From the moment the two of you met, Raian hated you. He hated your smiling face and your soft words as you tended to his wounds. You were just a stupid nurse at the infirmary who was insistent on tending to his injuries despite how much he complained.
You were an annoying fly he wasn’t allowed to squash. A ray of sunshine that blinded him every time you’d sit beside him to tend to his injuries he sustained from his fight with Ohma Tokita. Raian was embarrassed to be taken care of like this… like he was a weak baby. He didn’t like the way his heart would skip a beat when you were around. Perhaps this was a new level of extreme dislike for him (certainly not a crush).
“I’ve told you to buzz off already.” Raian hissed as he shoved your hands away from changing his dressings. “I don’t need your fucking help.” But you pushed his hands aside to change the blood soaked bandages around his abdomen.
“Mister Kure, you don’t want your wounds to get infected, do you?” You asked him with a soft smile. He despised how demure you were. How kind you were, it made his stomach hurt. “I’m simply doing my job.”
“Do you enjoy this power you have over me? It won’t last long. Once I’m healed, I’ll destroy you-“ you cut him off with a frown, your gaze focused on the barely eaten meal on his table.
“Do you not like the food? I could sneak you some sandwiches if you’d like.”
“I don’t want a fucking sandwich. I want you to discharge me.” Raian rolled his eyes when you giggled at him. Why did his face feel so hot? Did you administer poison on him when he wasn’t paying attention- no. You were too stupid to do that. Too sweet.
“I’ll see what I can do for my grumpiest patient.”
“I am not grumpy, woman. I just don’t like you.”
Raian scoffed but allowed you to change them. As much as he hated you, you were right. He didn’t want an infection. He wanted to heal as fast as possible so he could get away from you. Or so he thought…
You started to bring him sandwiches since he barely touched his food. Yet he would still push the homemade sandwiches off to the side and eat them when you weren’t around. Raian didn’t want you to know he enjoyed them. That he didn’t mind your company all that much as the weeks went by.
At least until he realized you weren’t just sweet to him but to every patient you had. Especially to that Lihito guy. He was a fucking loser, why were you laughing at his stupid ass jokes? Why did you dote on that insignificant worm? Lihito was pathetic and he didn’t deserve your attention. Not like Raian did. He was strong and capable. He’d be able to provide for you… he’d be able to provide for children. Raian would- where the hell did these thoughts come from? Why was Raian thinking of continuing the Kure bloodline with you? You didn’t offer him anything to benefit him other than your softness… god dammit. Raian had a crush on you didn’t he? That’s why he enjoyed your company and wouldn’t hurt you. Raian liked how you treated him like a human being despite how many times he threatened you.
Raian began to call you into his room more often, just for stupid menial tasks. He wanted you to be with him more than Lihito. He didn’t like the way the other blonde looked at you. Lihito admired you like a lovesick puppy and Raian would be damned if you dated a loser like that. Raian beat the snot out of the guy, just for a warm up.
Yet you never looked at him like he was a monster. You patiently waited for him to ask whatever he wanted of you and you dutifully did you best to fulfill Raian’s wishes. You’d fluff his pillow for him or get him an extra blanket. You never complained no matter how mean he was… it made Raian want to push his limits with you. How far could he go until you got upset with him?
“Do you enjoy the attention you get from all the men around here?” Raian asked you when you arrived to his room with his usual sandwich. His silver irises scanned you up and down. His hands tightly clutched his water jug. “You seem to be fond of that loser.”
“Lihito isn’t a loser.” You sighed before you approached Raian to hand him the sandwich. “A little stupid, but he’s not a loser. I think he has a lot of heart.”
You jumped when Raian crushed the jug in his hand like it was a grape. The white haired man was now drenched in water and ice, but it did little to soothe the pissed off look on his face. Why was he so upset? It’s not like he was fond of you or anything… right? There was no way the Raian Kure had a crush on you. He was as mean as a hornet. With his permanent scowl, his horrible manners, and his sadistic tendencies.
“Mister Kure, I’ll go get you a new gown and some blankets-“ Raian suddenly snatched your wrist and pulled you to him so that your body now laid on top of his.
“I don’t like you hanging around other men.” Raian clicked his tongue at your confused expression. Of course you’d be confused, he was too. “I enjoy your company.”
“But it’s my job-“ Raian suddenly leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours in a demanding kiss. Your eyes widened in shock as he took advantage of your state of surprise. Yes… this was what he needed. To put you in your place. To make you understand just who you belonged to.
“Open your mouth.” You obeyed, the white haired man immediately spitting a wad of spit in your mouth. “Swallow.”
You obeyed in fear of him hurting you which made his eyes light up. Yes… this is what he wanted. Complete control over you. To see your sunny expression turn to one of fear.
Raian was quick to begin to undo his hospital gown. His hands guided your hands to run up and down his chiseled chest. He relished in the salty tears that fell down your cheeks. Baby you were making him so fucking hard.
“I’m going to put my fucking child in you. Aren’t you grateful a Kure has taken interest in you?” Raian’s tongue darted out to lap up your tears. “Trust me, you’re in such good hands.”
You tried to pull away when you saw Lihto but Raian roughly grabbed your cheeks. His palms squished your cheeks together as he jerked your gaze to be back on him.
“Look at me, (your name).” Raian hissed, his dark eyes permanently burned into your very soul. “Look. At. Me.”
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keigo-chan · 3 months ago
Text
I Don’t Know Where To Put My Hands
Rating: Explicit
Summary: Keigo comes home, just for a bit, in the middle of spying on the League of Villains. He needs you, he needs this. And you love him. What else is there to say?
Word Count: 6.7k
Warnings/Tags: Pro Hero!Reader, No Gendered Pronouns for Reader, Reader Has a Vagina, Extremely Dubious Consent, Unhealthy but Loving Relationships, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Emotional Masochism, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injury from Sex, Fluff but Evil
FULL TAGS/NOTES ON AO3
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Communication from Keigo had all but disappeared after the battle in Kamino. He didn’t even text anymore. He certainly didn’t call. He didn’t even send mail, or notes, or anything. Civilians spotted him, even around the very city they lived in, as the tags you had alerts on for notified you, but he didn’t make any effort to contact you.
You tried to be calm about this. He was still alive. That’s what mattered. If he wasn’t trying to talk to you, it was because he couldn’t.
But that was a scary thought, too.
You thought about asking the Commission for a short leave. It was the Holiday season, so many other heroes were beginning to stagger out their own leaves. But that only made you more hesitant to do so in turn. Your agency- Hawks’s agency- was always close to reaching ‘understaffed’ numbers. You wanted to be there to help fill in the gaps. Especially with the biggest gap right at the helm of the agency. What was important these days, as the voice in your mind that sounded a lot like Keigo reminded you, was how the public saw the heroes. The best thing they could do was bring hope- so you kept busy making public appearances, trying to just keep up with him.
When you finally got home at the end of that week, the end of your set of patrols, you were exhausted. You were distracted by your phone when you unlocked your door and went in. You tripped over the threshold of it, barely catching yourself with your wings. You looked back at your stoop for what had made you fall, and saw a red book waiting for you.
Attached was a note. “From: K”.
Your heart dropped. You lunged for the book at once, picking it up and flipping through it. Just like you suspected, there were many highlighted portions.
You and Keigo had been working side-by-side for years, and though actual partners for longer, you knew a couple of the more intimate details of what the Commission dragged Keigo through. You’d known for a long time that skills associated with espionage would be necessary. The two of you had made up your own.
You flipped through the book, barely registering what it was even about, as you hurried to shut the door and locked all the locks behind you. You fluttered about quickly, drawing the curtains and blinds while opening the book with one arm. There was nothing else written not in code. You settled in on the couch and began to decipher.
You used a cipher, always based off of a word or phrase or date only you would know. The cipher that worked would correlate to the level of danger they were in or amount of secrecy they needed. You worked your way up three levels, to the day of your anniversary.
‘Being watched by LOV.’ Reading that alone had made the ever growing anxiety worse. Is that what he was doing? Something involving the League of Villains? ‘No big danger now. Keep ear to ground. Lay low. Attack in four months. Hope to come home for New Years. Miss you. Love you. Be safe. Keigo.’
You sighed out a long breath you didn’t know you were holding, shutting the book and resting your forehead against it. He’d held this book, had written in it with care. You wished he had left anything else, though the messy handwriting on his note was nice. 
All of the feathers you’d had from him had faded, gone a very dark, dull red- a sign that they had died. Keigo no longer had control over them, and could no longer hear or feel through them.
If they were going to attack in four months, did that mean that he would be away until then?
You tried to clear the thought from your head. He was on a mission. Clearly one that even he took seriously. For now, you needed to take over as the cool-headed hero that everyone wanted. For now, you needed to take care of the Agency. Keigo’s image as a hero didn’t need to suffer, even if he was away.
You could do this. You would wait for the next couple of weeks, until you might be able to see him again. Keigo wouldn’t have mentioned it if he wasn’t decently sure that he’d be able to come back.
He’d be alright on his own. He’d be alright on his own. You set the kettle on to boil and made his favorite tea. It gave you an idea.
Over the next couple of weeks, you left things out for him. Boxes outside with small notes, assurances left in code. Sweaters and smooth pebbles and old trinkets they’d collected over the years, so that wherever he laid his head to rest, it would feel a little more like home.
He took them. Sometimes it was overnight, sometimes days or a week went by without them being taken. But he always did, and he always left something in return. A shiny, pink shell. One of his feathers. One of the silver rings he always wore, too big to fit anywhere but your thumb. You took to wearing it around at once, rubbing it when you were nervous or overwhelmed, thinking of him, thinking of his hands.
 New Years came limping around the corner. You sent everyone in the agency home with warm smiles and their much-desired bonuses. You went back to your own home alone, shuddering under your coat. The Christmas tree had already been put away- because it had never gone up. You and Keigo always took it out together, decorated it together.
You hadn’t spent a Christmas without Keigo before since you’d met him. Even before you were dating, when the two of you found out you had no one else to spend it with, the agreement to visit each other came almost immediately. That very first time, you’d waited to put up the tree until that very day, and you hadn’t managed to finish decorating until he’d gotten there. You were ashamed- but he was just excited. He asked you, stars in his eyes, if he could help. He confessed, words rushed and still half-flying, that he’d never gotten to before. You didn’t ask and he didn’t offer. You handed him a box of mismatched ornaments gladly. 
That night, you’d sat around the tree, the sight of threadbare branches and two gifts perhaps looking pitiful to anyone else, but there were lights. Keigo had gone and gotten lights mid-way through, saying he’d been struck by inspiration, and he hadn’t come back for quite a bit since most of the stores were closed, but they were beautiful. You’d turned the rest of the lights in the house off and just basked in the warm glow of them. They reminded you of Keigo’s eyes, a bit. That was the first time you’d rested your head on his shoulder. He wrapped his wing around you.
You couldn’t help but be upset that he hadn’t even mentioned Christmas, much less apologized for missing it, even if it felt a little childish. You felt homesick more often than not. All you wanted to do these days was lie in bed, lounging around in his baggy clothes, twirling dead feathers between your fingers.
You left him a gift before Christmas. When you saw that he still hadn’t picked it up the next day, all you could do was sigh. By the time New Years came around, the gift remained by your doorstep. You began leaving less and less, just to stop crossing that threshold.
You baked cookies that night. You lit candles and dimmed the lights and listened out for sparkles and fireworks all over. You’d started hating fireworks when you started dating Keigo. He’d made a joke once about having to fly through them and it made you sick to your stomach just thinking about it. He was as flammable as a bundle of dry straw. The heater was on, but you still wore one of his old, tacky Christmas sweaters around. You popped open a bottle of Champagne and poured yourself a glass.
You had a bad feeling, but you pretended like you didn’t. You glanced at the clock. Keigo wouldn’t have given you false hope- no matter how optimistic he was. But eventually, the clock struck eleven, and you were two glasses of champagne and batches of cookies in, and there was no sign of him. 
You groaned when you finally heard the clock mark the hour, resting your forehead on the cold of the kitchen table. 
Why were you so miserable without him? You obviously could never know, but you were willing to bet money on the idea that Keigo was not nearly as shaken up about it when he was away. In fact, the more dangerous a task he was about to embark on, the happier he seemed to send you away. A familiar coil of bitterness rose up in you. After all this time, he didn’t trust you. He didn’t think you could hold your own, not next to him.
But maybe he’s right, You mused, munching miserably on your cookie. After all, he goes away and I spend all my time sick and moping and thinking about him. God, I really am useless.
Maybe you should get a cat. Keigo was never their biggest fan, and they didn’t do well around his wings, but you really wanted one for times like these. And if he was going to spend this much time away from now on, what did it matter?
You were idly scrubbing a dish when the clock went off at midnight. Screams erupted from every direction around you, the sound of illegal fireworks, the cheers of loved ones celebrating with one another.
Honestly, you thought you’d be more sad, and angry, and disappointed. But you weren’t. The hour passed and it was the next year and Keigo wasn’t there to celebrate- like he always was- even though he said he’d try to make it and it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as Christmas. There was no one to call, no one to text. You finished washing the dish and downed the last of your glass, before pouring yourself another.
You settled onto the couch. You weren’t ready for bed yet, not with the sounds outside. You scrolled through a million shows and movies before settling on one you’d seen a million times, like white noise. It was past one am, and you had finished up your millionth game of Sudoku when you heard someone at the door.
Fear rang through you, at first. You were alone, you were tipsy, and your hero brain whispered that nobody would hear your screams with the din of New Years around you. You jumped to your feet the best you could, setting aside your glass and phone at once, preparing to defend yourself when you heard keys turn the lock.
It was Keigo. Of course, of course, it was just Keigo.
All of the resentment, all of the bitterness, all of the anger you told yourself you’d take out on him softened at once when you caught sight of him. Not only because he looked more tired than you’d seen him in a long time- with uncharacteristic bags under his weary eyes, slumped shoulders, and wings noticeably smaller than usual- but just because…
Because it was Keigo. Because, miraculously, he looked like he needed you more than you needed him. 
“You’re awake.” He sounded surprised. He didn’t look it. Maybe he was too tired to even look surprised. He locked the door behind him, but didn’t move from across the room.
”I was-” You words caught around the lie. “I was waiting for you.” But he beamed, and you were glad you hadn’t told him the truth. Oh, Keigo. Always the optimist.
“I’m home now.”
“Yeah,” you walked to him, pace increasing with every step, until you were flinging yourself into his arms. Keigo, for his part, was more than ready. He caught you easily, and no more conversation was needed. When you kissed him, his face and nose and mouth were all cold, and he held you like a dying ember. The way you fell into each other reminded you of the moment you’d managed to catch him after the battle in Kamino, behind the alley, a moment you had been unable to stop yourself from replaying and replaying and replaying.
There was no thinking to be done while you were kissing, your mouths opened immediately for each other’s. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, indulging both of you in the kiss. He turned the two of you, pressing you flat against the wall. His kisses fell against your chin and neck, and then all at once-
“Keigo!” You gasped, which was the only thing saving it from being a scream as Keigo sucked at the skin on your neck hard. You squirmed, thrashed really, in his arms, trying to push him away, but it was fruitless. “What are you- Keigo, oh my God-” Your voice was just a whimper by the end as he barely even reacted to you. “W- wait, you can’t-”
The Commission had strict rules involving appearance. Some were obvious: no alterations may be made to the uniform without going through one of their designers, heroes must appear at the scene relatively kempt (unless coming from another battle), tears or rips must be mended by next appearance. But there were other, unwritten rules, pertaining to the professionalism of the costume. No hero could be caught drinking or smoking in their uniform. No hero should be seen doing non-heroic activities in their uniform. And, of course, famously, hickeys were not allowed to be showing while they were in uniform.
Everyone claimed to have a friend of a friend who had gotten in trouble for it, to the point that it was just something heroes knew to avoid while participating in… more illicit activities. But it had happened closer than that to the two of you. In fact, Keigo had once gotten in massive trouble when the Commission caught him with a hickey that you had given him. It was (mostly) an accident, and they hadn’t suspected where it actually came from, but he was put on night patrol with no breaks for the next couple of weeks.
You were extremely apologetic, but not enough to accompany him out all of those times.
Ever since then, you were both careful about it. After all, they really didn’t need the scrutiny that the Commission was trying to protect them from in a roundabout way. Not only would Hawks’s fangirls go ballistic if they thought he was actually seeing someone, but it would invite people to speculate on who. And nothing good would come of that. 
This was to say, it wouldn’t be good if either of you showed up to your job with a lovebite visible on your necks, and concealer could only last for so long in a job like yours. The two of you whined and bitched about it, but for the most part, you reserved your marking for things below the collar, even if the ‘claiming’ of it all was half the fun.
Until tonight, apparently. Keigo was still sucking and biting at your neck like a man starved. “Sorry- sorry,” It sounded genuine, he sounded almost hurt him, but he didn’t stop. “Need- Need something permanent- need it to last-”
And it did hurt. You weren’t prepared for the sharp heat of it- but it was good. It was so good, Keigo’s lips wrapped around such a sensitive part of you, making you feel a mind-numbing pain derived intimately from his own mouth, his face buried into your neck, while he was holding you close together. And he was marking you. He was marking you and everyone would know you belonged to someone and entirely irrationally, for a split second, you hoped they would know it was Keigo.
He growled and pressed open-mouthed, sloppy kisses to your neck, before licking a stripe up your throat and swirling his tongue over what must have been the forming bruise. your head was going fuzzy from the abuse of your neck. You barely recognized the usual care he treated you with, even in their most morally bankrupt moments of fornication. Instead, he bit down on another part of your neck and started the process again.
You threw your head back and gave in, moaning and bucking your hips against him. This only seemed to egg him on, as his kisses grew more frantic and messy, and a heavy sort of note joined his panting, like he was moaning with every breath. 
Your neck was starting to feel wet at this point, but you didn’t care. You could feel every move he made down to your pussy, and it was leaving no room for anything to go to your brain.
Several marks later, Keigo finally seemed to remember that there were possibly other ways that he could have you- though he didn’t give you any warning of this thought at all before he pulled you away from the wall and fell to his knees. This would have been alright, hot even, if you weren’t still attached to him. You yelped as they dropped, performing a clumsy combination of your arms flailing and still clinging to Keigo as he went down. 
But you didn’t collide with the floor, you were simply on his lap now, nails digging into his clothes and back. He took the second of your confusion to tear off his work jacket and reveal the compression shirt underneath. You dearly loved the eyeful of his lithe muscles you got through the tight fabric. You ran your hands over his chest and shoulders appreciatively.
”You know, you could have given me a heads up,” You meant to scold him, but it came out more as a sort of pout. But Keigo didn’t laugh like he usually would have, didn’t even smile. He sort of frowned distantly as you spoke, staring only at your lips. “Keigo?” You brushed a lock of flaxen hair behind his ear. “Are you oka-”
”No,” He shook his head, his voice thick with something you couldn’t name. He took an unsteady breath and shook his head, looking somewhere just past you. “N- no, I’m-” The glint in his eyes wasn’t right. You were contemplating it when he sprang back into action. He lunged, pinning you under him on the floor, but his arms had broken the worst of your fall. Still, you cried out in surprise, Your world suddenly in an entirely different orientation. Keigo licked and nibbled at your ear as he pulled off your- his- sweater roughly, the friction of it burning for a second. He tossed it aside carelessly before returning to his position right on top of you. His hands squeezed and groped at your chest painfully- and not in a good way.
Your head spun. What was going on? This was nothing like Keigo. Even when he was rough, it was usually only because you had asked for it, or confirmed it was what you wanted at least once. Every once in a while, you even had to egg him on. But this- this felt careless and crude, bouncing between the two extremes of him being too intense and not there with you at all. 
“Ow,” You hissed, but it was really more of a whisper. You were almost afraid to snap him out of the trance, even as he bruised you in places you weren’t accustomed to. “Ow-”
”Please,” He whined. His mouth was against your chest, he had begun to work his way down. He sounded… truly pitiful. “Please, I- I need- I can’t-” He sat back up and away from you, running a hand through his hair, only for half of the strands to fall back into place right after. You finally got a good look at him, closer now than across the room. He was frantic, searching. His eyes darted around your face wildly, but he didn’t seem to find what he was looking for. “Please.” He slumped down again on top of you like his strings had been cut, all at once, landing hard onto you.
“Are you on something?” You wondered aloud. “It’s- it’s fine if you are, but you should tell me, Kei-chan-”
”No, no.” He shook his head frantically. “No, I swear, I just-” He tugged at your pants. His eyes grew pleading, beseeching. “Please-”
This wasn’t how you pictured their reunion. But he was looking at you with those desperate eyes, and you could only ever be the personyou were. 
Keigo was hurting. You could help him. As always, you could do your service by helping him, by being at his side.
You didn’t speak. You just nodded. Keigo breathed out what could only be a sigh of relief and tore your pants off. You were wet, your moments of hesitation unable to strip that awaym  especially not when Keigo spread your legs and dipped his fingers into the place that you had wanted him for weeks. Thankfully, he didn’t finger you. You shuddered a bit to think of what his thick, rough fingers would have felt like inside you in this state. Instead, he pressed a kiss to your knee and then tapped you gently on the ass. ”Flip over.”
He didn’t need to tell you twice.you turned and assumed your position, ass in the air and face against your arms on the floor. There was a second where it was just ou, in the dark, your face warm with your breaths and the sound filling your ears. Maybe- maybe it would be easier this way, unable to see his face.
There was no preamble before Keigo slammed in.
”Oh my GOD!” You shrieked, nails digging into the hardwood floor in front of you and leaving gouge marks in their wake. “Oh my fucking God,” He took you with a speed and strength that truly belonged on a battle field. Every other stroke or so hit your cervix, entirely bottomed you out with that thick cock of his, a Russian roulette of pain that entirely cleared your mind. 
”Fuck,” He cursed. He gripped your hips brutally, but you didn’t even feel it over the flood of sensation below it. He pulled you back and forth against him like you were an to for him to use, something small and thoughtless he could move as he pleased. “Fuck, yes,” He hissed through his teeth sharply. “Holy fuck, you take it so good, look at you- taking my cock so fucking good.” He babbled.
”Please,” You choked out, eyes rolling back so faryou couldn’t see anything other than stars. “P- please,” A broken gasp wracked through your chest like a sob. In fact, you rather thought you were sobbing. Your fingers and hands jumped and convulsed, just trying to hold on, to regain any sort of footing as he fucked you into the floor. you didn’t even know what you were begging for. For him to stop? For more? For him to hold you, just hold you, so you could sit in the silence and look at the Christmas tree?
Your safeword danced on the tip of your tongue. You wished you could say that you hadn’t used it to be a good girlfriend, that you’d suffered through it all silently because it was clear he needed you, that you were kind and benevolent- but the truth was that you simply couldn’t even string enough of a thought together to control your tongue enough to say it.
”Please-” He panted, pleaded, “Baby, say my name-” His voice broke around the syllables. “I- I need to- pl- please, saymyname-”
“Kei- ei- go- oh-” Each sound was broken up by the bounce of you against his cock. You couldn’t speak properly even if you wanted to. You slurred his name, your tongue too heavy in your mouth, too confusing to move properly. “Kei- go!”
“Yes, yes, yes,” He whined, bending over your body. His chest pressed against your back. He was all over you, inside you, above you, all-encompassing. Each thrust sent your body back and forth against the floor, scraping against the skin of your face and arms. Your knees ached from holding yourself up on the hard surface. Your legs trembled, weak with the strength it took to even stay up. “So tight, so fucking tight-”
”Keigo- w- wait, please-“ You gasped out, but the words were unintelligible to even your ears, too breathy and muffled and confused, too pierced through with your moans. Instead, all Keigo heard was ‘please’. The next couple of thrusts were even harder.
Your mind and body couldn’t take it any longer, you tensed, trembled so much your limbs began to hurt, and came so hard you saw white. The scream you let out was guttural, and gave its way into sobs. Your whole body gave out, but unfortunately, Keigo’s grip didn’t relent, he hardly even noticed. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease-”. You keened pitifully. “Keigo-”
His grunts and noises had become animalistic. There were no more words or pleas from him. Instead, he moaned his own release, slamming into you with absolute abandon, finishing inside you by using his body’s weight to pin you all the way to the floor. You were squeezed between the two unrelenting surfaces, as Keigo came as deep as he could possibly go, gravity assisting him in his terrible mission.
Finally, finally, he was still.
He breathed heavily above you as you shook and trembled and just tried to do the monumental task of catching your breath or moving your limbs. Your hands shook so hard it looked like you had tremors when you tried to draw them back into yourself.
Every body part that you could think of ached in one way or another. You tested different parts of yourself, operating them like a puppet who had just gained control of their own body. It was a long while before Keigo let up, long enough that you had almost forgotten it was him on top of you. You lifted your own face from the floor. It was wet. You hadn’t even realized you were crying or drooling. Your hair stuck to your face with tears and sweat. you took a deep, shuddering breath.
Keigo pulled out. You felt his soft cock slip out of you and were astounded that the now-feeble part could have done what it just had. You remained on the floor, little will to move, no capacity to consider what he might think about it.
He laid his hand on your hip. ”Hey, do you wanna-” But you jumped. You hadn’t meant to. But it was a motion so sudden it startled him. He blinked. And it came to him. The scene, the house, his love- it all finally appeared in front of him. “Oh my God-” He breathed, expression stricken and horrified. “Oh my God, baby bird, I- oh my God-” You tried to push yourself off the ground, but your arms gave out underneath you, and it looked downright painful as  youfell. Keigo pulled you up at once and flipped you over, as gently, but quickly, as he could.
Keigo hoped, prayed, that it wasn’t as bad as he suddenly remembered it all was- 
When you turned, something in the back of your head warned you to school your expression into a more neutral mask, but it was too slow and quiet. But every bit of the shock and confusion you felt must have been evident on your face, because when Keigo turned you around, he shattered.
He dissolved into sobs, curling and melting onto you, into you. It only took a split second before you, too, were crying, until you were both wracked with it, holding each other. Clinging tighter than ever before.
There was nothing else to do.
*****
You woke first the next morning- and you woke in pain. The way your insides ached made you feel like maybe the phrase ‘rearrange their guts’ wasn’t as fun as it was before. You realized, when you went to the bathroom, that you had been bleeding. A wave of sickness. You put on a pad and walked carefully back to bed.
The noise of the bathroom alone had woken Keigo. He locked eyes with you as soon as you came out of the restroom. Your heart sank. You immediately tore your own away. You were really hoping he wouldn’t wake for a while. He sat up as you got into bed, back towards him. Neither of you said anything for a long moment. 
You gave in. You flipped over towards him, tossing an arm around his lap, your forehead against his hip. He rubbed a hand down your back, almost on instinct. You hated the way his hand jumped away once he realized what he was doing like nothing you’d ever experienced before.
You gave a gentle demand, ”C’mere.” He obliged at once, shifting down to rest next to you. You were careful not to make eye contact, even as he stared at your face, watching your expressions like- well, like a hawk. You adjusted until you were lying on his chest, arms curled around him. He was sleep-warmed. Comfy. Smelled familiar.
It was still Keigo. 
Just Keigo. 
Always Keigo. 
Only Keigo.
”I’m bleeding.” You said softly, shutting your eyes. You didn’t know why. You didn’t want to guilt him. You didn’t really even want him to know. But you felt like he needed to. Deserved to, even. You listened to the sharp breath he took.
”Fucking shit,” He breathed, and that was it for a moment. You pretended like you couldn’t hear him crying. He pretended like he couldn’t feel you do the same.
”Will you make me some tea?” You asked quietly, when you had both gone still and silent again. Keigo jumped up at once. He was just in his boxers, the ones he had pulled on last night when you had finally gone to bed in a daze.
”Yes. Yeah. Of course.” He nodded, looking grateful for something to do. He hurried off to the kitchen at once. You laid on in warm space he had left on the bed. You tucked yourself in and sniffed the pillow he’d been lying on deeply. It smelled like him- like the man you knew and loved. In the kitchen, pots and pans moved around, water ran, the stove clicked to life.
It wasn’t long before the smell of food filled your nose instead. It smelled like grilled fish and rice. After another couple of minutes, he walked in, holding your favorite mug.
”What kind?” You asked, pointing for him to set it down on the bedside drawer.
”Your favorite.” He didn’t even let you react before he hurried out, “ButIcanmakeyouadifferentone! I just- I thought that I- I guess I could have asked-” He winced at his own words, and you sighed.
”It’s fine, Keigo.” But your voice sounded tired, even to you, and his name rang cold. ”Thank you.” He hesitated. You buried yourself deeper under the covers. You just… didn’t want to hear it right now. Thankfully, whether he got the message or simply couldn’t decide what to say, he walked out of the room once more. After another ten minutes, you finally stood and came to the kitchen, wincing as you did so. He smiled when he caught sight of you, but the worried furrow in his eyebrows didn’t unknot.
”H- Hey, good morning. I made breakfast.” He gestured around at the spread. You eyed it over. “I- um- there’s fish and rice and miso soup and a rolled omelet- I made coffee, too, just in case- or we could- we could always order takeout or-”
”Hey.”you put your mug down on the table and walked towards him. His wings drew up, somewhere between fear and shame. He seemed to balance on a knife’s edge as you stood in front of him. You leaned forward and rested your forehead on his bare chest. “It’s okay.” You said softly, wrapping you arms around him and stroking at his back, between his wings.
Keigo nodded shakily, before finally hugging you back.
”I- I just- I didn’t feel like me when I came in last night,” He babbled against the top of your head, “And I’ve- I’ve felt really lost in the mission, all of my interactions are being watched, I could only step away last night because-” He took a breath. You felt the shudder in his body. He was tense, like he wanted to hold you tighter, but was too afraid to. “I wanted to come back and feel like me, I wanted- I-“ You hushed him. Keigo buried his face deeper into your hair. ”I’m…” Keigo started. You tensed. “I’m so-”
”Don’t.” You snapped.
You had an unspoken agreement- the two of you never apologized. You were almost proud of it, your ability to move on from mistakes and stupid things the other had said. You gave each other space any time you had an argument, and came back with level heads and open arms. This was the first real thing either of you had, they were both bound to make mistakes. You were happy you both knew that, and found something that worked for you guys, even if other people didn’t understand it.
Hearing him almost do so now made your throat tight and eyes burn.
”No, really, what happened last night-”
”Takami Keigo.” You wrenched yourself out of his grip, instead grabbing him by the arms, pinning them to his side. The cruelty in the sneer and look and touch and name shocked him like ice water. “It’s fine. I said yes. I could have used my safe word. I ask you to be rougher all the time. It-“ You cleared your throat. You removed your hands. “It is fine. I need you to drop it.”
Keigo stared, face to face with bared teeth and anger. “Okay.” His voice was just a whisper.
You stared for one last minute before letting go and turning away, back to your tea.you took a long, deep draught, before something caught your eye. He looked where your gaze fell. It was a mirror, in the hall. You touched your neck. “I forgot about those.” You hummed, looking thoughtful. Keigo couldn’t discern anything else from your expression, so he said nothing. 
He turned away and grabbed a couple of dishes and began to plate everything up for the two of you. Before you sat down, he grabbed a pillow from the couch and placed it under you without a word. For this, at least, you were grateful. 
You ate in silence for a while. It wasn’t exactly comfortable. He found it a little hard to look at you, now, close up. He wished he could have been pleased to see you all marked up, but instead, you just looked… bruised. Battered. The way you did after a battle didn’t go your way. There was an exhaustion in your eyes you couldn’t fake and you didn’t bother to hide.
“When are you leaving?” You asked, your voice carefully free of any inflection. He bit his cheek. Usually this question would be asked with the clear wish that it wouldn’t be for as long as possible. But today, he was unsure.
“I was-” Any strength in his voice broke. “I need to leave tonight.” He admitted. You were entirely still for a moment, but just a moment. You resumed eating, without even looking at him the whole time.
“Alright,” Was all you said, soft and small and sad. Your utensils clicked, but otherwise, it was silent.
*****
The first day of the New Year was difficult. For once, you found yourself glad that Keigo was leaving. No matter what you did, you couldn’t get rid of the silent stiffness that permeated all of your interactions. Perhaps the distance would do you good for once.
When night fell, Keigo had to leave. He stood by the door and you came to say your goodbyes. He held his arms out tentatively, and you fell in at once. He squeezed you tightly. You squeezed back.
”How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. ”…Probably at least another three months.“ Your heart sank. You knew that, but to hear it was another can of worms. “But I will visit before then, I promise.”
”Okay,” Your voice was hollow with unshed tears. As he made to pull away, something desperate in you woke at once, and you held on tighter. “I- I miss you so much when you’re gone.” You rushed out, like he didn’t know that already. “This mission was so sudden, I went from seeing you all the time to not at all, and I don’t know what you’re doing or how dangerous it is, and I don’t even have anyone I can talk to about this because you’re who I talk to about things, please don’t leave me.” Your pathetic plea rang in the air for much longer than was comfortable.
He spoke, “I’ve been seeing you online again.” Picturing him seeing all the embarrassing headlines and memes and photos from your recent appearances made you groan. “You have no idea how proud I am of you, or how much I miss you, too. I’ll tell you all about it the second I can.” He pulled away a bit, cupping your cheek in his large, warm hand, lifting your chin to look at him. “I don’t- I don’t want to do this again, okay?” His gaze was loving, and sincere. You nodded, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks silently. “I don’t like it either, I promise.” He kissed your forehead. “Be brave, okay?”
“Okay.” You nodded, but the lump in your throat and chest hadn’t gone away. He hugged you again, and you both rocked back and forth and back and forth.
”Hey,” He said seriously. “I love you.”
That was another thing you didn’t say. Or, at least, it was very rare. You really only said it when you didn’t have to actually… say it. You wrote it in notes in code or texts. Occasionally, during a very intimate moment, or if you weren’t sure you were going to see each other again.
You swallowed, wondering which one of these things was true now.
”I love you, too.” He wrapped his wings around you. Their hold was soft and strong, and you felt like you could breathe easier, even if your chest was tighter.
Finally, finally, you pulled away. ”I’ll see you soon.” He promised, and your lips met for one last kiss.
”See you soon.” You repeated throatily. You waved with a miserable little half-smile as he slipped out the door, taking his bright red wings, all the color, and your heart from your world.
When you went out the next day, you remembered Keigo’s present and groaned unhappily, having forgotten to remind him of it- but when you went to check it, you saw that he had taken it, and left something in its stead.
It was a tiny box, covered in shiny, red wrapping paper. You stepped right back inside your place and tore it open, finding a ring box inside the first. Inside was a silver band made of metal feathers widing their way into a ring. Your mouth fell open at that alone, only to realize that there was an extra slit in the box.you checked the larger box it had come in. Inside was two photos- one that must have been of the advertisement, with your ring and a thicker-banded version of it- and the other was one of Keigo.
In the photo, he was somewhere far in the sky during sunset, pink and purple and orange and lovely all around him. He was beaming, always so handsome, but glowing with the halo of the sun and his smile. His wings were a blur behind him, but in front of him, his gloveless hand was fanned out, showing off his own ring from the matching set.
You laughed through tears, sliding the ring onto your finger. It seemed he hadn’t forgotten about Christmas, after all.
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koolades-world · 7 months ago
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can i have the om brothers dealing with insomniac+workaholic!mc? Diavolo made a grave fucking mistake when unwillingly inviting mc to the devildom. can't sleep? work. bored? work. have nothing else to do? ask Lucifer or Diavolo for more work to do, or maybe cook something for Beel.
also, insomnia isn't easy to deal with. they have to pull out the strongest sleep potion or magic out there for that fucker to sleep. "oh have you tried melatonin?" YES I HAVE?? I'VE TRIED- "do you turn off your lights when you go to sleep?" no, i sleep with the lights on-- OF COURSE I TURN OFF THE LIGHTS YOU FUCKIN BALL LICKER. "maybe stop being on that phone of yours at late at night.." I CAN'T FUCKING SLEEP SO I MIGHT AS WELL DO SOMETHING.
whenever mc runs out of things to do, they re-do an assignment that got less than a 100% score.. someone drag this dymbfuck away from their work..
can i be🍷anon? or glass-eater anon? :3
hello!! yes, of course
those are both amazing anon names haha, welcome to the anon crew
enjoy <3
Workaholic Insomniac Mc
Lucifer
you can bet both of yall are making eye contact in the hallway at four am, and neither of you have slept
he gets you bestie
however he's willing to acknowledge both of you are practicing an unhealthy habit
together, you can take days off and as much as you itch to do work, you can stop each other. what a fun bonding activity!
Mammon
this is just like dealing with lucifer so he knows the drill
let you work as much as you want during the day without shirking your other responsibilities, but after dinner, he's dragging you away from it by the back of your shirt
when he can't fall asleep, he goes for a night drive, to nowhere in particular
so, he always invites you, because he knows you can't say no to him
Levi
he's also almost always awake at odd hours of the night, so he's always available
he would not be great to work in the same room as though
however he is willing to get you away from your work for a while to play some games with him
he knows that you need time away from that paper work and as much as you want to go back to it, he'll keep you with him until you complete the level. mark his word haha
Satan
will help you make those sleeping potions, or has solomon make some for you
if you ever want help with your work, he's willing to lend a hand, even though he knows you almost always say no
whenever you're awake at night, he'll come and sit where ever you're sitting to read so you'll have company
more often than not, he and belphie are next to you while you work as a silent indicator of what, or who, is waiting for you when you're done or want to take a break
Asmo
he fully believes in relaxing before bed and since he loves it so much, he suggests you try it with him
the first night you tried didn't really go as planned because he got a little overexcited so you had to try again the next night
that goes much better, and while it wasn't instant sleep, it was certainly better than staring at the ceiling for hours
plus, you get to spend time with asmo! who doesn't want that?
Beel
he won't lie he does enjoy the occasional impromptu meal you make for him when you've really got no more work to do (which is rare)
but he's concerned about you
honestly he thinks you're just like lucifer, you sincerely care about those around you and you work with them in mind
if you ever find random refreshments on your desk in the few moments you were gone, just know it was probably him
Belphie
as the self proclaimed king of sleep, he's always going out of his way to try and help you out
sometimes he falls asleep on your bed waiting for you to join him, while satan is still somehow going strong with his reading
if he notices you sitting at your desk for far too long, he'll start to whine and complain until you get in bed with him
sometimes, while he feels guilty, he'll use his power to help you fall asleep faster and give you a sweet dream that's usually about him
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yanderes-galore · 5 months ago
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Would like to see a romantic concept of Carmilla Carmine from Hazbin Hotel
I'll try my best as there isn't much I can find about her :( So I hope my little ideas make sense!
Yandere! Carmilla Carmine Concept
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Controlling behavior, Manipulation, Personal theory and HC, Stalking, Unhealthy power dynamic, Violence, Blood, Possible murder, Delusional behavior, Implied kidnapping, Forced relationship implied.
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What I can primarily grab from Carmilla's songs and dialogue, she prioritizes those she views as family.
She has two daughters and cares for Zestial, a fellow Overlord and close friend.
She'd sacrifice anything to keep those she cares about safe.
This is shown when she kills an Exorcist and when she's hesitant on helping Charlie fight the angels.
She hates the idea of combat, even as a last resort.
Which is ironic as she manufactures weapons as an Overlord.
My theory is Carmilla doesn't want to spill anymore blood because that's how she got her and her daughters killed (due to them all being Sinners, and Sinners can't reproduce).
The biggest thing I'm getting from her is overprotective, stern, and controlling.
She'd want her obsession to listen to her, to see her decision as final.
While I see her as primarily a platonic yandere, she'd be very similar to a romantic obsession.
She probably has a bit of a condescending vibe to her when it comes to her obsession at times.
Maybe you're an Overlord that participates in meetings.
You and her get along, in fact, most other Overlords may suspect you two are close.
Even Zestial isn't blind to Carmilla's tendencies around you.
She's normally so calm and level-headed.
However, she's known to lose that slightly when you enter the room.
Sinners may not reproduce, but they certainly feel attraction.
Carmilla originally tries to push aside her thoughts.
She has no time to entertain such ideas.
However, I feel Carmilla would fall for someone more if they showed respect for her family.
When Carmilla sees you greet her daughters with such genuine respect... her heart lurches.
I feel even her daughters notice their mother falling for you hard.
Carmilla keeps getting distracted during meetings but always brushes it off.
So imagine if her daughters or even Zestial kept setting you up together to try and help Carmilla.
Ignoring her obsession isn't going to help her.
But to be fair... acknowledging it and going along with it won't help either.
Safe to say once Carmilla gives into her obsession, she has the chance to be unnerving.
When she caves and shows interest in you during "private meetings", she always comes off as calm yet welcoming.
Carmilla views you, her beloved, as family.
Carmilla has a big thing for family.
If her daughters enjoy your presence so much, Carmilla likes the idea of pursuing you.
Carmilla seems like she'd be charming and flirtatious with her obsession.
She invites you to dance with her, often teaching you so it can be a thing just between you.
I can also see her whispering small flirtatious comments at times once she realizes she does love you.
She feels she can drop her guard around you.
She hasn't felt this way in a long time....
You make her feel a familiar flutter in her chest that she has almost forgotten about.
While she's calm and welcoming with you, she has an unhealthy power dynamic with her beloved.
Be you an Overlord or not, Carmilla has access to angelic weapons.
Granted, she'd never harm you, but the possible threat is still there.
Carmilla naturally seems like she's controlling, often spouting the excuse that what she does is to protect you.
She's close to you and will defend you in any way she needs to.
She's even taken on an Exorcist just to protect her daughters.
As an Overlord in general, she's capable of some nasty things.
Carmilla would be so caught up in the idea of keeping you safe by her side...
She doesn't realize how her actions affect you at times.
She's manipulative, often commanding her beloved or nudging them to think a certain way.
If you disobey, she shows irritation and may nearly lose her temper.
However... She realizes her issue and corrects herself.
Her obsession makes her twitchy, the idea of you being hurt or finding someone else to love irks her.
That emotional turmoil most likely would boil over later.
Her complex emotions for you are for a variety of reasons.
She loves you... but getting you to listen is difficult at times.
She hates others being so close to you, especially since Overlords can enter deals.
She worries about you being around The Vees or Alastor.
Even more so if she notices the bond you have is becoming strained....
She wants you to know she loves you.
She does everything and will do anything to protect you as your partner.
She wants to spoil you, to show you that she's yours and will always be yours even if you won't be hers right way.
Carmilla doesn't want to resort to violence.
Yet with her complex emotions... and the possibility of losing you... she gets volatile.
Alastor or Velvette might even find it amusing how worked up she gets over you.
Eventually I can see Carmilla staining her shoes in the blood of someone else.
She's shocked with herself when she realizes it, too worked up to think about what she was doing.
Carmilla would hide any murder from you.
She tried to hide the dead Exorcist to protect her family, right...?
It's the same with you.
She deludes herself into thinking she's protecting you and herself this way.
Yes, she shouldn't spill any more blood...
But she does this out of love, no?
She never says a word, merely trying to keep your attention on her as she hides the bodies of the demons she's killed.
It's... It's not important... People kill each other in Hell all the time.
Which is why she has to protect you...!
She always keeps a close eye on you.
Even towards her romantic partner she acts like an overprotective guardian.
If she kidnapped you, it would be through subtle manipulation.
Afterwards she'd give you strict rules to follow, often scolding you for undermining her.
She loves you... she'd do anything for you...
Carmilla is willing to sacrifice anything for love...
Including her darling's well-being at times.
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ozzgin · 10 months ago
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Ozzgibz my lord may we have just one more crumb of pickle content pls pls pls🙏🙏🙏
Like I have an idea, reader as pickles mother🧐 like like like U wake up together after many many years
Not just a crumb, but an entire loaf! :D I will use this chance to finally finish all of the Pickle related requests I currently have. (At least I hope I haven’t omitted anything). So you may consider this a Pickle megathread, containing multiple requests put together.
Pickle Headcanons: A collection
Featuring Pickle and Reader: Pickle’s Mother! Reader, Pickle trying modern treats, Pickle and his newborn, Pickle x Student! Reader and Pickle x OP! Reader.
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Pickle’s Mother! Reader
You wake up surrounded by heavy, intricate machinery and at a certain point it occurs to you just how long your slumber has been. Ah, that explains the peaceful, uninterrupted rest. You can’t recall the last time you slept this well. And, like clockwork, you hear the humans scream mere seconds after you stretch your rusted bones. A familiar growl jolts you back into action. Being frozen for millennia sadly doesn’t strip you of your motherly role.
With a groan, you rip the medical cords away from your body, indifferent to the frightened stares of the scientists currently unsure of your intentions. They needn’t be afraid for long. With the calculated movements of someone that has been doing this one too many times, you walk towards the source of ruckus and return with Pickle under your arm. It’s almost as if you’re wearing an invisible hero cape: the research team can finally relax knowing Pickle’s fearsome mother is here to keep him under control.
This arrangement now poses an interesting dilemma: how will the fights unfold under the watchful gaze of a protective, Jurassic mom? Should the fighters be worried about a vengeful counterattack if they’re too hasty with your son? The first one to test the waters is Retsu, and before he enters the arena you place a heavy hand on his shoulder, briefly guiding him aside. He nervously watches your gestures as you pretend to beat up an invisible opponent. Are you showing him potential punishments? Then you give him a friendly nudge and point to Pickle. Realization sinks in and he stares at you, wide eyed. You’re giving him advice on how to give Pickle a proper beating. Well, obviously. If they’re going to challenge your menace of a son, they should at least make it worthwhile. Rough him up a little. At the end of the day, it’s less work for you.
Pickle tries modern treats
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Pickle would probably lose his mind with any carbonated drink or sweet flavor. He never had access to this amount of sugar, so I’m wondering if he’d think it’s poisonous once he becomes agitated from the abrupt intake. Nice, exquisite smell and a vibrant color that tempts him enough to give it a try. Next thing you know, the liquid sizzles in his mouth and he panics, but eventually settles down. Then his heartbeat increases and he’s squirming under the confused stares of the fighters (who initially offered him the drink), until Professor Payne points out his body might not be accustomed to our levels of sugar. The real trouble starts once he can handle the unhealthy snacks, because someone will have to stop him from overeating. (To be fair I’ve also never had a Baja Blast, seems less popular/available in Europe but it looks nice.)
Pickle unable to care for his baby
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They say your life flashes before your eyes as you die and you certainly gazed upon a delectable bunch of recollections when the prehistoric man swung his massive body towards you, growling threateningly. They were hoping the fighters could keep him entertained long enough for you to feed the baby, but it seems his fatherly instincts (that he’s otherwise lacking) trumped his need for battle. Thankfully, he stops right before his clawed hand touches your frightened face. For the first time he sees his newborn eating, the puffy cheeks expanding with each gulp of the mysterious bottled liquid you’re providing.
Well, if all you’re doing is feeding his child, he might as well keep you around. You certainly don’t look like a threat, even less so than the men he just faced in the Arena. To the relief of everyone witnessing the spectacle, you get to live and handle the baby. Not like you have significantly more experience when it comes to taking care of infants, but with the help of the scientists you manage to ease Pickle into his parenting role.
All this time spent together has reminded Pickle just how much he misses the presence of a second parent. The baby likes you, you seem to be rather knowledgeable about these matters, and you’re extremely cute if he is to be fully honest with himself. The Jurassic man can’t help the faint smile gracing his features whenever he pictures it: you make a nice family, wouldn’t you agree?
Pickle x Student! Female Reader
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You’ve learned to ignore the bewildered stares. Thankfully, this time, the only unusual sight consists of Pickle’s gargantuan size and nothing else. He’s dressed in modern attire and has since learned to behave better in public. You recall the first encounters, where an almost naked Jurassic creature kept following you around and wouldn’t take no for an answer. It took you several weeks to figure out he’s interested in you, and you eventually relented. Naturally you couldn’t have gone outside with a wild jungle beast donning a fundoshi and nothing else. So you did your best to instill modern customs into your new boyfriend.
And, for the most part, it worked. He’s sitting with you on a campus bench, politely waiting for you to finish your rough sketch. He enjoys watching your drawing process, especially if he’s the subject of the piece. A giddy feeling overwhelms him, almost as if he’s being physically touched with each stroke of the pencil. The fact that you observe him so carefully, and then somehow reproduce the image so accurately on paper…It entertains him greatly. Sadly he can’t return the favor. You’ve offered him drawing tools before in case he wanted to join your creative hobby, but there was no dormant Botticelli in his soul waiting to be awakened.
While he may not share your artistic inclination, you can at least be assured that no threat will ever reach your proximity again. His hands were built for battle and he makes sure you witness this truth on every occasion. No fight begins without your presence in the Underground Arena. As much as you feel for his battered opponents, the whole ordeal results in very neat action frames. You leave the matches with brand new batches of doodles. Who would’ve thought you’d find your muse in a prehistoric man? Additionally, if you ever need some extra cash, there’s always the option of delving into erotic art. After all, you have access to any reference you could ever need and Pickle would be most eager to help you.
Pickle x OP! Reader
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@mariahvilla569
So this was a little difficult because I wasn’t sure whether Reader is overpowered in relation to someone in particular or just the whole Bakiverse. I went for a Reader who’s stronger than everyone else.
Pickle was very confused when he met you for the first time, standing in the audience of the Underground Arena to observe his match with Retsu. He was instantly smitten and was about to discard any intention of a fight to immediately pursue you instead, but he was stopped by multiple men forming a barrier before you and an angered Retsu demanding his undivided attention. He assumed you must be someone’s partner and therefore he’ll have to win his way to you. He couldn’t have guessed in a million years that you were politely allowing everyone else to have their fun before you swiftly cashed in your victory.
You did have enough grace to take your time with the prehistoric man. He doesn’t doubt that if you so desired, you could’ve ended the battle within mere moments; but just like the rest of the men, you wanted your fair share of entertainment. This way Pickle was also offered a sample of your exquisite skills, which made all the fighters before you fade into nothingness. Truly astonishing that a human half his size would tower above him in terms of raw power. He was left beyond impressed and his initial crush has avalanched into a full blown obsession.
Just because you’re stronger doesn’t mean he can’t fulfill the duties of a protective partner. Consider it a way to efficiently save time, as whoever isn’t strong enough to get past him isn’t worth your precious time. Not to mention that Pickle has come to view your sparring sessions as a special form of intimacy reserved for him and you only. If you need to train, he should suffice as an opponent. There’s no one else as sturdy as him, and you’re always in a great mood after a proper fight, so he’d be an utter fool not to take advantage of it.
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