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muzansfangs · 12 hours ago

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Can you make a Kokushibou x AFAB reader scenario where Reader and Koku are at a bar because she somehow convinced Koku into coming with her

He decides to have a few shots...and that ends up pretty bad with reader practically having to carry him back home..

When they both get home, Kokushibou tackles her onto the floor and smut from there pls😍😍🥰🥰🥰

You can make it Modern AU if that'd make more sense, just do anything you can pls🙇‍♀️

Alcoholic kisses.

Starring: Kokushibo x f!reader; mention to Muzan Kibutsuji, Douma, Akaza, Nakime, Daki, Tamayo;

Warnings: nsfw, modern au, everyone is a human, spoiler for Kokushibo’s name as a human, drinking, slightly reckless behavior, drunk sex (everything is consensual), vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, choking, unprotected sex, dom!kukushibo, sub!reader;

Plot: Working for the Kibutsuji Industry left you little time to enjoy your life. Social events? You hardly had the chance to slack off and attend them. Douma’s birthday party, however, was one of those days you looked up for in trepidation. Still, you needed someone to be your knight for the exclusive event. When your stolid colleague Michikatsu announced he was not going to take part to the grand soirée, you made it your goal to convince him it was worth a shot. He begrudgingly complied to your request, eventually, even going to the extent to become your drinking buddy for the night. It was supposed to be just a cordiality from his behalf and a friendly reminder he could let loose, sometimes, from yours. How did you end up being folded in half by him in your apartment, then?

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“I can’t believe he had the guts to invite Mr. Kibutsuji too. He truly is as bold as brass” Akaza, the intern of the third floor, commenced the daily ‘gossip session’ at the work canteen, aggressively uncapping his bottle of water. You had long stopped defending Douma and his grotesque antics. How did he even consider the idea of inviting your perfidious boss to his birthday party? You had to agree with Akaza on that. This had been downright a terrific idea. Your devilish colleague had spoiled a night you had been looking up to for months.

Nakime shrugged “You are short-sighted. It was actually a winning strategy. — she pondered, tilting her head to the side pensively — No one ever invited Mr. Kibutsuji to a party. Guess who is going to win the promotion now”.

You nodded your head, disinterestedly nibbling at the salad in front of you, as you listened to your friends commenting the last stunt of your eccentric coworker. You barely had any chances to hang out and slack off. Mr. Kibutsuji behaved like a tyrant at work. His appalling talent to showcase cordiality, when navigating through crowds of important people to make deals, was something not reserved to any of you. Occasionally, he asked his female subordinates to be his sidekick during those special nights in luxurious hotels, or at the Opera. You had had the opportunity to accompany him to a gala, too. If you had not witnessed with your own eyes to the saccharine smiles and gentlemanly ways to win his clients’ hearts, you would have said he was not the same man who slammed doors and made you overexert yourselves at the Industry. You had to admit he possessed a special ability to conceal his brusque charcater for the sake of his Company. However, now you were worried that Douma’s birthday party was going to be a complete disaster. No one was going to relax, when Mr. Kibutsuji was around. Why? Because you were not potential clients. You were not politicians. You were his subordinates. He was not going to act differently just because you were at a bar.

“And what do you think about the ‘you can bring a date’ part? — you asked then, reaching your hand into your purse to grab the invitation — I mean, do you guys even have a date?” you inquired, clearing your throat nervously as you slided the lilac card, decorated with flashy baroque doodles, over the table and tapped on black key words in italics with your index.

Akaza snorted, shaking his head vigorously “No way I’m bringing my girl with me. That sleaze has already tried to flirt with her. I can’t risk making him choke on his teeth in front of Mr. Kibutsuji” he replied, grimacing to emphasize his categorical refusal to comply to the birthday boy’s request.

You smiled faintly at that, eyes darting on the woman at your right, prompting her to express her opinion on the matter. Nakime never mentioned having a partner. However, you were curious to find out more about her and if, given the fact you were single, you had to throw the card into the wastepaper basket and forgo the opportunity to slack off for a night once and for all.

“I do. — she admitted — I don’t think we’re a couple yet, but I’m seeing someone” she vaguely said, your jaw dropping in stupor and genuine curiosity that gnawed at your stomach in the unbridled desire to pry more informations about her relationship.

You bumped her arm, grinning “Huh? When were you going to tell me about it? And, well, are you inviting him?”.

“She has already been invited” she cooed, your eyes flitting to a perplexed Akaza who furrowed his brows in bewilderment to the unexpected disclosure of your friend’s love interest. You had not seen it coming.

“Nakime! Who’s she?” you quipped, shifting on your seat to totally occupy her view and sending her the clear message she had to provide you an answer, if she keened to go back to her duties. Her date was decidedly a colloegue and tons of familiar faces began to pop in your restless mind, accurately discerning which women could could keep up with your secretive friend. Not many, if you had to summarize your research for a possible candidate to fit the scenario.

“Tamayo” the brunette evenly cooed, tapping at her mouth with a tissue before unhurriedly grabbing her tray and standing from her seat, as if she had not just dropped a bomb at her shellshocked commensals.

You did not bother replying. You watched her leave silently, struggling to process the fact Nakime was dating one of Muzan’s closest assistants. Tamayo was a reserved woman, who had recently recovered form a difficult divorce. Due to your position, you rarely interacted with her but, when you did, you left her office in a joyful mood. She smiled a lot, she did not bark orders around like your hellish superior, she offered you candies, or tea, whilst you discussed the matter at hand. Nakime, on the other hand, was not a bad person. She was intuitive and taciturn. Yet, she was sneaky. You had lost the count of how many times she had her own subordinates fired over insignificant mishaps. Looking at them as a duo was going to be hard to process. Still, if they were happy, you were no one to oppose that.

“Oi, are you still with me? — Akaza snapped you out of your stream of consciousness — Did you hear what I’ve said?” he asked quizzically you, leaning back on the chair, arms folded against his chest as he squarely looked at you.

You gaped, mortified you had zoned out in the middle of the conversation “Actually, I didn’t…” you trailed off, refocusing on him, flashing an awkward smile at your patient. He was a gentleman with women, you had to admit it.

Akaza sighed, lolling his head back “I said you haven’t told us if you got yourself a date. Who is the lucky guy, then?” he interrogated you casually.

Well, you did not have a date yet. Now, knowing your closest friends had a date, you felt miserable. You were not desperate or anything, but you actually felt kind of discouraged to attend the party, if it meant being surrounded by a bunch of couples slow-dancing at the bar. You enjoyed playing the role of the cool aunt, the independent woman, a wild spirit drinking at the bar and flirting with bartender to kill the time, but it would have been nice to spend the night with someone you got along with for once.

“Ugh, well, there is no lucky guy…” you grumbled, frantically collecting your stuff, eyes rapidly flitting to your wristwatch to check the hour. Your lunch break was over. It was time to go back to your office and weep on piles of documents until your boss dismissed you for the day.

Your friend stood up as well, hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks, eyebrow arched inquisitively “The Hell are you waiting for then? Go ahead and ask someone out”.

“You make it sound so easy”.

“Because it’s easy! You don’t have to pick someone you are dying after and beg them to accompany you, you know? — Akaza instructed you, as you two stepped back into the busy hallway, feet leading you to the elevators automatically — Ask a friend who doesn’t have a date. Like, ‘hey, buddy, I heard you got no date for the party. Wanna go together?’. I mean, I’d find it hot if a girl took the initiative and asked me out” he winked at you, before patting on your shoulder encouragingly and jogging towards the staircase, as he always did. He really did not like elevators, did he?

You smiled softly, gaze following him until he disappeared from your sight and you could finally enter the cubicle leading you up to the pit of vipers residing at the fifth floor. You were glad Akaza had given you something to mull over for a while. The hours you were going to spend glued to your desk were going to be a tad more bearable. This and your handsome co-worker you undeniably had a crush on. Glancing at him, from time to time, fingers furiously tapping on the keys of the worn-out keyboard of your laptop, was calming. He was a placebo, a professional, handsome man who made life easier by helping you out when he realized you were on the verge of a breakdown. Michikatsu Tsugikuni, the same man who always made sure to come back with a spare coffee for you, when he took a small break for himself.

You were lost in your thoughts again, daydreaming about that tall adonis, hurriedly marching to your work position, and too distracted to realize you were on a collision course with someone. Inevitably, you bumped against a firm chest. Your bag and folders tumbling down and drawing judgemental gazes from your colleagues engrossed in their works signaled your downfall . You apologetically flicked your gaze up, ready to profusely excuse yourself, when your eyes met a pair of ruby red ones. Oh, the world stopped revolving for a second. How ironic was it? You spoke of the actual devil and he manifested himself before you in all his glory.

“Are you alright?” he asked you, chivalrously helping you to pick your stuff back up.

Your mouth felt like chalk, but you forced yourself to spit out a response “Yeah, I’m fine! Don’t worry about me… If anything, it’s my fault” you said defeatedly, fingers curling around the heavy folder he handed you so tightly your knuckles turned white. You were about to explode. Probably, he could tell you were not quite close to be fine. Your body language spoke volumes.

Michikatsu inspected your face, hooded eyes masterly catching the signs of your discomfort “I don’t think you are doing good. If you need to go home, I can tell Mr. Kibutsuji you were sick” he offered, as if the mere mention of that monster’s name did not cause people to turn pale. Michkatsu had no problem in speaking to your boss. He was his right hand man, after all. They were close, indeed. You knew that Mr. Kibutsuji would have believed anything he said without questioning the authenticity of the informations reported.

You faintly smiled and shook your head “I promise, I’m fine. I’m probably just a little stressed out. The last thing I needed to worry about was Douma’s party. I think I will have to turn down the invitation anyway, so… Yeah, I’m ready to immerge myself in emailing the interns the new projects” you rambled, shrugging as you tried to walk off and lock yourself in your small angle of paradise for the rest of the day.

You were surprised to hear Michikatsu calling your name, though, causing you to halt and reluctantly turn your head to the side to look back at him “Is there a specific reason why you are not going? I thought you were looking out for it”.

You stiffened, heart thrumming against your ribcage violently, his sudden interest in you both flattering and eating you alive. Why pretending, though? He was nothing but a polite man. He probably even had a date to escort to the fancy rooftop, a girl to spoil and undress later in the privacy of his bedroom, after lingering touch and scorching kisses stolen in the car.

“I was, right. Unfortunately, I don’t have a date” you confessed, ready to receive yet another suggestion to go ahead and ask someone to be your safe haven for the night. Too bad you were wrong, because the next words coming out of his mouth made you see the light at the end of the tunnel and you had to bite the insides of your cheeks not to squeal on the spot.

Michikatsu fixed his necktie heedlessly, probably just out of habit “By sheer coincidence, I don’t have a date as well. I was on my way to tell Douma I won’t join him tomorrow” he declared, your eyes gradually widening as Akaza’s words echoed in your mind like a mantra. You could ask him to come with you. You could. You had to have the guts to do that.

What was the worst thing that could have happened? That you were going to embarrass yourself in front of the entire team of coworkers? The Hell with that. It was time to spread your wings and show your teeth.

You cleared your throat, holding the folder to your chest protectively “Oh, well, in that case… How about we go together? We both don’t have a date and it’d be depressing working overtime to digest the fact we didn’t attend the party everyone went to” you blurted out way too quickly than you liked. The damage was done, though. You had thrown your decency out of the window, baring your tender neck to a potentially categorical refusal.

Michikatsu stared at you in silence for a few seconds, brows furrowing, as he contrived to make up his mind and provide you a response. Burgundy hues shimmering under the artificial, bleached lights of the spotlights lined up for the entire length of the corridor, he looked back at you in determination “Would you be satisfied with such an arrangement?”.

“Of course! I think it’d be beneficial for the both of us. I want to attend the party and you decidedly need a small break from all of this” you pointed out, your confidence exponentially boosted by the time he sighed and nodded his head in a silent agreement. He was an irreprensive hard-worker. Mr. Kibutsuji acknowledged his dedication to the Industry and, occasionally, he made sure to either surprising him with a wage rise, or let him escort him to a couple of the fancy dinners he was frequently invited at.

However, he never granted him a vacation and anybody could tell Michikatsu was beyond exhausted.

“Then, I guess you got yourself a deal. Would you like me to pick you up?” he asked, ignoring the way your stupid heart began to run a marathon in your chest. If only he knew how ecstatic you were to know him better. With a firm nod of your head, you accepted his offer and, on your way to your office, you mentally thanked Akaza for his brazen suggestion to break the mould and get what you wanted.

The following day you were way too excited to focus on the dreadful morning reunion with your boss. You did not listen to a single word coming out of his mouth and, to be honest, you were pretty sure he had noticed the way you were doodling on the papers instead of taking notes. To save the day, though, was Daki who walked in the room unannounced to show Mr. Kibutsuji some alarming news. You watched him flee in a hurry, hands gesturing for you all to leave and factually giving up on his chance to let his snippy comments ruin your mood. For once, you were glad his competitor was determined to bring him war.

Soon enough, you were back home, dolled up and waiting in the living room for your date to show up at your door. You were not surprised you had taken extra care of yourself, meticulously styling your hair with a silver hairpin, following a professional tutorial for the make up and even wearing that daring red dress you had never had the occasion to wear since you had bought it three months ago. You had a plunging neckline, the fabric hugging your curves and exalting the shape of your body in a extremely eye-catching way that could draw a lot of attention. Still, you could blame it on the dress code required by the host. Douma just had an inclination for contemplating beautiful women and having them fawning on him like lapdogs.

The unmistakable buzz of your phone indicated your date had arrived. Taking a deep breath, you left your flat in a frenzy. Waiting for you in a shiny black car, Michikatsu was impeccable. Upon spotting you approaching his car, he unlocked the car door and swiftly got out of the vehicle to open it for you.

“You look ravishing” he said, subtly and respectfully checking you out. You felt his gaze, intense, yet not too intrusive, on your body. Surely, he was not used to see you in anything else besides pastel shirts and tight trousers. He seemed genuinely amazed by the effort you had made to he his date.

You courteously bowed your head, a small smile curling your red-painted lips “Thanks! You will probably have to thank Douma for that, though. — you said, before entering the car — By the way, you are sticking up to the stereotypical gentleman date any girl dreams about” you joked, spotting the pale imitation of a smile creep on his lips.

“We better be on our way”.

The rooftop of The Blue Spider Lily Grand Hotel radiated opulence. You did not expect less from the scion of a millionaire family financing Mr. Kibutsuji’s Industry. You were also not disappointed by the extravagant suit Douma was ostentatiously showing off. The man at your right grimaced imperceptibly at the red texture embellished with golden arabesques. Proceeding, in an angle of the rooftop, wearing a lowcut crimson red dress, you recognized Nakime. Next to her, a timid Tamayo sipped on cocktail. She was wearing an elegant white tailleur, styled with some red details to blend in the theme chosen by the eclectic host. Now, you had to admit the pair looked good together. They were balanced, not the types to make people talk about them.

A warm hand resting delicately on the small of your back got your attention “Would you like something to drink?” Michikatsu asked you, glad to lead you off to the counter and order something for you.

“Yes, please. I don’t think I could stand the sight of that peacock any longer without some alcohol in my bloodstream” you jested, sitting on the leather stool as he slided on the one next to yours. A moment of needed intimacy to start the night was needed. The music was still low, allowing people to interact without having to scream at the top of their lungs. You could go with the flow until it started to look like a circus.

Two flûtes of champagne were the first drink you two shared. You gazed up at Michikatsu, squinting inquisitively over the rim of the glass to observe your date inspecting the yellowish alcoholic substance in the glass with repugnance. You almost found it amusing, albeit a little out of place.

“Is the champagne’s quality low?” you asked, quirking your eyebrow up.

“Not quite. — Michikatsu cleared your doubts — I don’t particularly like drinking” he admitted, eyes meeting your fleetingly. He seemed tensed, for the first time ever since you had arrived. He was hiding something.

You took a sip of your drink “Well, it’s a party. Maybe you should try to open your horizons a little more. It’s Friday, which means no work tomorrow…” you hazardously played the part of the she-devil alluring him in the depths of perdition. You were tired of pretending you did not wish for you two to grow closer. A new drinking buddy, a new close friend could not harm you in any way. Even if you were irrevocably falling for him a little more with every passing minute.

Michikatsu hummed, eyeing you torn between not letting this rare opportunity to cast his inhibitions away go wasted and remaining the composed version of himself everybody knew.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. — Michikatsu replied, leaving the real reasons behind his reluctance undiscovered — I need to drive you back home safely. What man would I be, if I called you a uber?” he pondered, settling the flûte back on the polished counter in front of him.

Your cheeks heated up at that declaration, eyes glittering in admitation and driven by the romantic scanarios you were illuding yourself to experience in a few hours. There you were, the old back delusional girl who loved so easily. However, you were not having it. Calling out the bartender, you whispered an order in his ear and looked back at your drinking buddy for the night.

“And what a man would you be, if you did not share some drinks with your date? A woman’s whim, you know? I’m pretty sure you don’t want to let me down like that” you confidently countered back, winking at him as the young man behind the counter slided six shots of whiskey in front of you two.

You saw the jaw of the man besides you clench, eyes darting away from the glasses to your grinning face. You were impressively stubborn. And he liked it. You were stunning that night like every other day at work. You were strong-willed, cunning, enthralling. Mentally cursing himself, he therefore grabbed a shot and, raising a toast, he downed it. Your proud smile burned his heart more than the alcohol did to his throat.

You were not expecting you two you stumble back into your home, Mr. Kibutsuji shooting vitriolic glares at you two on his way out of your flat. You two were in no conditions to drive back home. Swaying around, you had barely made it to your car until Mr. Kibutsuji spotted you two attempting to open Michikatsu’s car. There was no way he could lose his right hand man and even you over car accident. He kindly drove you two to your house with his own car, ordering his chauffeur to take the lead of Michikatsu’s Audi.

“Oh, he is never going to forgive us. Damn it, did you see his face?” Michikatsu’s drawled out, tossing his jacket over your sofa, barely standing on his feet. He was disheveled, his necktie loosened around his neck, gilet unbuttoned, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. He was hot. Way too hot to handle in your condition.

You chortled, unable to take the whole ordeal seriously “What’s the worst he can do? Fire us? We’ll good for him! I wanna see him go bald from promoting Douma and confiding on his lame skills!” you quipped, tossing your heels off and walking up to him.

Michikatsu snorted, before chuckling under his breath. He could not contain himself any longer. The room seemed to spin around him, the sensation reminding him of when he was a kid and he used to ride on a local carousel with his brother… Until his eyes landed on you. The center of his gravity, his hands gripping your forearms, firmly but not enough to harm you. He had to stabilize himself, but you were unsteady yourself. Before you knew it, you were flattened against the floor with your hot coworker hovering over you.

His hot breath fanned your lips, parted in the pleasant surprise to feel his muscular body crashing yours.

“I’m so fucking sorry” he murmured, large hands on each side of your head making it impossible for your eyes to stray away from him.

“For what?” you meekly asked, chest heaving, your breathing rhythm almost bordering the line of hyperventilation.

“For this… — he started, closing his eyes, before brushing his nose against yours — But not for this” he continued, lips molding against yours in a slow, mind-blowing kiss sending your mind blank. Was it real? Were you so drunk you were having episodes? No. It was real, it was happening and your arms looping around his board shoulders were the unconfutable proof you were welcoming this sudden kiss like a starving man accpeting a burger from a stranger.

His tongue swept over your bottom lip, delving into your mouth to coax you to whimper out against his lips. The temperature was raising exponentially, his hands were gliding down the curves of your body, shamelessly groping you through the fabric of your dress.

“Bloody Hell, what am I doing…” he muttered, still not stopping, when his nimble fingers began to fumble with the elastic band of your underwear beneath the skirt of your dress. You flinched when you heard some seams ripping, but your own heart was bursting in your chest that very moment.

The pads of his fingers, cool against your boiling skin, sent frissons over the skin of your thighs. You were both out of your minds, but still somehow able to get a grip of yourselves. The only issue was that nor you, neither him felt like stopping. The flame fueled by your hunger was growing strong, like a wild incendio. You exhaled through your nostrils, biting on your lower lip, intently watching Michikatsu discard your torn underwear away, eagerly parting your thighs and running his fingers over your already clammy slit in fascination. You wondered how he even managed to keep a mostly serious expression while clearly tipsy and involved in such unprofessional activities.

“You rambled about wanting to act like a man back at the party. I’ll be damned, if that’s not what you’re doing” you chimed, mouth parting and taking the shape of a ‘o’, when he plunged his fingers into your sappy cunt.

He flicked his gaze up to lock eyes with you, dipping his mouth down to plant another kiss to your lips, effectively smudging your lipstick “I don’t have condoms, though… If you wish to stop at this, it’s understandable” he warned you, curling his fingers into you to stimulate your spongy sweet spot.

You panted, spine arching, head shaking to express your wanton “I want it. Don’t deprive me of this” you pleaded him, before he deliberately splayed his hand over your cleavage and let it slide up to your neck. You gasped, breath hitching in your throat, when he wrapped his fingers over your windpipe. Your head felt light, the pleasure engulfing your lower abdomen building up, amplified by the breath-play, until you melted under his touch.

You were barely able to collect yourself, clumsily remove your dress, that you had not registered him undressing himself. The mouth watering sight of his sculpted abdomen, of his pectorals and the impressive length slapping against his navel caused you to feel so petite compared to him.

Michikatsu did not waste any more time. He grabbed your ankles, pushing your legs against your chest, before lining up to your entrance. You were trembling in anticipation, the bulbuous head of his cock teasing your weeping hole.

“Will you be a woman for me? Can you take me in? Can I fuck you raw on this carpet, Y/N?” he rasped out, making sure to push and pull back a few times before finally sheathing himself deep into you.

“Yes! Yes, fuck—” you choked out, the stretch painful at first. Your walls spasmed around his length, sucking him in as they adjusted to the intrusion. Folded in half, you submitted to your stolid coworker, to the kind man who checked on you during rough days, to the very man who was now grunting deeply above you as he thrusted into you aggressively.

Your toes curled, high-pitched moans falling from your lips, as you felt him fill you up repeatedly. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass was embarrassing. The way juices were oozing out of you made you feel so dirty. And the way he spurted his warm seed over your belly was the sign he still acted responsible even when he was out of his mind.

“I ought you another date” he groaned out, collapsing besides you. Yeah, he definitely had to treat you a dinner now.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hi there! I am slowly trying to take care of all the requests I had got and that are patiently waiting in my inbox to be done! I think this one had been marinating in my drafts for over a year and it was a shame to leave it half-finished. I have missed writing for Demon Slayer, sigh. Also, the exam season has officially begun! Bear with me!

Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated.

Until next,

Luce

#kokushibo x reader #kokushibo x y/n #kokushibo x you #kokushibo smut #michikatsu x reader #upper moon one #demon slayer fanfic #michikatsu tsugikuni #michikatsu smut #michikatsu x y/n #demon slayer smut #demon slayer #kny smut #kimetsu no yaiba smut #demon slayer x reader

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thetadispatcher · 5 hours ago

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"It's fine, no harm done." Sure the interaction had been far more unpleasant for him, but it hadn't damaged him in anyway. It had merely left the sensitive sensors in his hand tingling and caused him to be forced to reboot, but the information he'd been forcefully given hadn't corrupted his memory or been corrupted itself.

He'd been able to make sense of and properly view the overwhelming amount of data once he'd come back online, the entire event had only taken a few seconds so Strasky didn't have the time necessary to start thinking he'd broken Dan. So, the android only had to deal with the man apologizing for not warning him sooner, and for the things he'd been forced to witness.

Dan was just glad he now had a system to keep Strasky from getting worked up over seeing the androids Brent was currently building. He only had to get someone to distract the man well Brent preformed the functions test on them as that caused the skin to activate, making it harder for Strasky to look at them and keep his composure. So he had Sixty play the distraction as Brent preformed the test on the newly completed android.

Sixty did as he'd been silently instructed to do, he began fiddling with something breakable which caused Strasky to quickly try to get the item away from him. The RK800 played keep away with the man until Brent shut the android down and set it aside with the first one, then he let Strasky snag the glass decoration from him and set it back on the shelf.

"I estimate this will take an hour to complete the entire order, now that the new computers are here." Brent responded calmly, he was clearly used to dealing with impatient humans given how well he handled the behavior. "If you wish to, you can join the military units in the dining room. I believe they are playing a card game, one where you win by lying. So it should be entertaining for you, even if you cannot join in on one of their more extreme rules." The JB300 felt Agent Bishop would likely enjoy the games the military units played, even if he couldn't use the tool they did to weaken and shut down most of their functions.

Personally, he didn't understand why they liked to play something that was a less extreme version of roulette, but as long as it kept them entertained he wouldn't judge.

Vincent glanced at his black and purple uniform as Peter giggled to himself, he was as accustomed to the human's strange behavior as Dan was. So, the AP700 would find himself frequently trying to understand the odd and cryptic things the human said to him. He only stopped when Dan mentally reminded him that it was best to just brush it off, seeing as Peter likely just found noting Vincent's favorite color funny due to being under the influence of the painkillers.

The yellow and red of Vincent's LED shifted to blue as he looked up at the other android, clearly finding his presence comforting as his stress levels fell significantly. He held up the crochet wolf he'd just finished outfitting with a yellow rain coat, silently waiting for the other's opinion on it as the yellow returned to his blue LED.

"Sometimes I make notes on the more absurd things he says, they range from questionable to outlandish. Usually they're just things he blurts out well upset. Although I don't know if most would make sense as a fortune, or if people would want quotes from the guy who told Elijah Kamski to suck his dick." Dan felt androids would like Peter more due to him telling off the whole of Cyberlife, and the boy had enough humans that didn't like him supporting androids.

"'I'm the video game boy, I'm the one who wins.' Is a personal favorite of mine in terms of things he's yelled at me because I was beating him. He's also tried to convince me clearly broken controllers weren't actually broken, 'the exposed wires help it breathe better' was an interesting one. I could go on, but some of my favorites are just from him forgetting I'm not a human, or just how common it is for him to crack himself up."

Dan chuckled slightly as he glanced at Peter, who'd finally passed out in his arms. He still knew better then to put him to bed as Peter would wake up the moment he couldn't hear the beating of the PL600's thirium pump and his pump regulator, it was a sound he noted calmed Peter and provided him comfort.

"It took me a bit to get used to how much he screams, but that's probably due to my own experiences with it." Daniel piped up, he had grown accustomed to Peter's rage fits and how they were harmless to him. "Now, I find it funny to watch him loose his mind over something like chess. I never knew someone raising their voice at me would be amusing."

Sixty turned to Willow once he was certain he'd no longer be need, excitedly motioning for her to follow him, so he could finally show her the room where they stored whatever Vincent made during his visits.

"Empathy is a wonderful gift." Willow said, eyeing Dan, "Perhaps I should have mentioned to be careful while handling Strasky."

It was hard to ignore the structure gel going off now that she knew what to be on the lookout for. She was glad all that information being dumped on him at once had not caused him to overload like it did with the brain scans.

Deviants were simply built different perhaps.

"In other words, we have commissioned a young genius who must be kept on a leash." Bishop mused.

"You keep yours in a jar." Rook pointed, getting a confused look from the android, "Do you even have to ask?"

"Not at all." He shot Bishop a skeptic look, before heading back to where Vincent was.

Bishop crossed his arms, "So, how much longer do we have to wait? There is work I have to get back to."

"You guys should write down what he says and put it in fortune cookies." Rook suggested, "It's so cryptic everybody would love them."

#kingedbishop

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