#bedwyr answer.

@ancgnorisis sent : [ praise ] in the middle of it all, sender whispers praise between every movement "just like that," "you're doing so good," "don’t stop" (wyr)

oh fuck.

the words slip and slide through the grooves in his brain, but it's the most coherent thought he has, even as she offers him the praise that coaxes him into more.

his too-big body is crooked over hers, one hand at either side of hers there on the bed where fingers curl tightly into the silk sheets and claws threaten to destroy the fabric, and he's practically stupid with how the instinct of seven men has taken over his nature.

hips buck, stuffing too much of that far too large cock deeper and deeper into maggie from behind, and every little praise she offers disconnects him even further.

really, it's only that same sort of instinct that has him suddenly backing off when the crunching feeling in his abdomen reaches a certain point, his cock slipping out of her warmth only to be taken into metal grasp before it's even fully out.

there's a shakiness in the construct's voice as he presses his back tighter against the wall, his hands pushed against it as well near his waist as victor comes closer, touches along the front of bedwyr's pants like it's nothing. "i-i-i--" the abomination starts, only to fetter off and draw into silence as his head tips back and he looks anywhere but at the smaller man that does so much without doing anything at all.

hips nudge forward, almost as a silent request, though he only cues this request after a few seconds more of quiet with a tiny whimper.

how satisfactory has their sex life been thus far?

what sex life? the guy's a virgin, and with his demeanor it'll probably stay that way for a while! it may be surprising to note that this is the case due to the nature of the relationship between himself and his feminine creator, but there was never any intimacy of that nature between them! she was strictly a motherly figure to him in the same way edward scissorhands' creator was a father to him.

what is something they wish to try? why haven't they tried this yet?

what version of themselves are they afraid of becoming?

he's terrified of becoming a bad person, though what that entails is extremely vague and only really encompasses the idea of "would i want to be around this person?" as a baseline. he tries to behave and process through things as effectively as possible, but when your mind has been pieced together from chunks of multiple other people's and consistently gets shocked, it's hard to stay consistent or be much of anything that people find worth in, which also scares him.

what secret ability or talent do they hide?

because of the way things were set up and he was put together initially utilizing a bit of magic, he can control his pieces parts even if they're not attached to his body and physically connected to his brain. granted, the control is less coherent and dimmer this way, he can do things like flex muscles to form basic protocols for carrying out simple tasks. for example, he can lightly grab something with either of his detached arms.

what moment in their life changed them forever?

when the creator - olwyn - was taken away from him and he was abandoned in her home and laboratory. he spent three weeks meandering around the property before it became clear that she was not coming back, either because she was slaughtered for her crimes, or locked away forever. only after those three weeks had passed did he finally leave the property and set out into the world, primarily because he was beginning to lose energy and needed help figuring out how to recharge without her help.

what strange or supernatural thing have they brushed against?

he in himself is a supernatural strange thing, isn't he? a construct of human flesh sewn together with enchanted thread and held in place, given life by both magic and science. other than himself, though, he has come into contact with marchionette, and she has provided him with care and knowledge he wouldn't otherwise have.

what memory do they return to when their mind feels foggy?

hands. hands on his face. thumbs brushing under his eyes as they try to open, but even the darkness is too bright and his skin feels like needles and everything is sore. but there's ice beneath his gaze, running softly under the left eye mostly, numbing a pain he cannot process beyond a dull ache. slowly, eyes open, gradually focusing over several minutes of ringing noises and soft coos from around him as the ice continues to glide across his skin. eventually, he'd see her, but for now, she just looks like some angelic, heavenly presence sent to save him from the consistent, paralyzing anguish he has no idea she caused.

what overwhelms them most easily?

yelling. disappointment. the slightest change in tone or in the way someone looks at him. he's hypervigilant without meaning to be, without noticing, and consistently questions the way that people engage with him because he is an abomination, and that was made perfectly clear by the people that took his creator away from him. so the moment someone changes the way they behave with him, he thinks they're going to leave and shuts down.