#but boothill already did the break thing better

[rubywolf0201]

Before I start posting my playthrough of the Wardance event, I thought I might drop my build of Luka since he is the main star of the show after all 😊

(Will get his Traces up to Level 10 once I’m done building everyone I want to build)

[plaguechyld]

Your hands are pressing his to the mattress so possessively...

It's sinful how loud he moans when you stop him from grabbing onto you, pinning his scrambling and twitching hands to the soft sheets of the bed he was being fucked so mercilessly on.

"Pl- Pleasheee!~" he cries out for you and calls your name soon after. His voice is broken, desperate and a clear representation of his debauched self.

The many hours he had spent under your body, receiving the mind breaking pleasure that you had to offer him had already turned his pretty little head to mush.

Oh, but he should've known better, right? Known better than to flirt with that whore at the bar. But he just couldn't get enough of your jealously filled roughness. It was truly divine, pushing his body well past its limits.

"Hic- 'm SORRY!!~♡ Re-really am- HNGH~" his voice is breaking, it's pitch is so high and whiny as he pleads for a break, for you to slow down. But he knows he doesn't really want that, he wants to be fucked brainless, turned into a stupid little slut, your stupid little slut.

Your thrusts continued their harsh pace, bullying your darling's hole just right. You kept hitting the poor thing's bruised and throbbing prostate, driving him to orgasm for the nth time that night. But.. did you give him permission? No, you didn't.

"Wuh-wait! No 'm sorry- pleashe forgive m-me! AHN!-" his little babbling apology is cut short by yet another hard thrust and another mean bite to his already tender neck. He's biting his lip as you squeeze his pretty hands tighter and pin his body down with an even firmer grip.

No matter how much the pretty thing pleads for you to stop he never uses his safe-word, only screaming out your name like its going to make you forgive him. Well.. you already have forgiven him, but were you going to pass up the opportunity to have your baby crying and begging? No, you weren't. So he's just going to have to take it for a while longer.. ♡

KAEYA, CHILDE, dottore, kaveh, boothill, DOUMA, sunday, DAZAI, NIKOLAI, zhongli, HAWKS, wriothesley, alhaitham, dabi, dan heng, jing yuan, AVENTURINE, dr. ratio, your favs...

[yurinaa-world]

“𝒩𝑜 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒!”

Characters: Gallagher, Sunday, Aventurine, & Boothill x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: giving and receiving so many kisses

Warnings fluff, spelling mistakes,

𝒢𝒶𝓁𝓁𝒶𝑔𝒽𝑒𝓇

he just keeps on going!

just feeling Gallagher’s hot breath—the smell of cigarettes and alcohol—while pressing so many kisses on your face that you just can't handle it anymore! One kiss alone would break but so many that you lost count.

Blood rushes to your face—you’re sure Gallagher could see your flustered face! but instead of teasing, he just smiles at the red blush covering your cheeks. His smile is even better up close! His eyes crinkled in joy. "That's enough!”

Covering his mouth with your hands—he just doesn't stop so you had to pick the last resort—gallagher kisses your palm instead making you pull your hand back. “Don't be like that.” He grabs your hand and pulls it back to kiss your palm again.

“Wanna have fun.” He leans closer, letting a smirk play on his lips as he looks you directly into your eyes before he kisses the tip of your fingers. “What kind of fun is this?!” you shudder before a little whine comes out when he nips the tip of your finger with his teeth.

“you're blushing hard,” His gaze still locked on yours, hearing your little shriek at the feeling of him nipping at your fingers. “I'm not done yet.” He leans closer still, placing his hand over yours, holding onto it firmly. A smile graces his features as he watches you squirm from embarrassment.

“Had enough of me already? I just started.”

𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒

Aventurine's poor hand is always shaking when he doesn't have a gambling chip to play in one hand or anything to occupy it—that’s the same case now, his hand is shaking while on your cheek with your hand on top.

He had a grin on his face but his hand was saying otherwise, you turn over to kiss his shaky palm “Aventurine, your hands shaking.” You point out the obvious before going over to kiss each one of his fingers while looking at him like that—just that look in your eyes makes him obsessed. Forget his hand he wants you.

He wants your lips on his already. He wants your hands in his hair or maybe your hands around his hips, but he won’t say that. He wants to kiss you for hours until you both feel dizzy from kissing.

As you finish kissing on hand, you gently take his other hand and pull it towards you—and he lets you lead his hand—pressing the same set of kisses in the same place, on his pretty fingers.

You smile at him when the kisses are done and he immediately grabs you and pulls you into a kiss—a full one, no room for you to escape. not until he’s finished with you this time.

𝒮𝓊��𝒹𝒶𝓎

So tired—your eyes slowly shut close and open again, each time slower and slower. Just waiting for blissful sleep to take over yet the only thing keeping you from sleeping or at the same lulling you to sleep was Sunday’s kisses.

In his lap, head against his chest with no regard to anything while his arm was around your waist keeping you pressed around him and his other hand held your own, giving feather-like kisses to your wrist.

“Sunday…” “Shhh…” He hushed you, lips still moving softly on your skin “No need to waste breaths.” His voice had a softness in it that made you melt inside. you wanted nothing more than to stay like this for the rest of eternity.

He hides himself in your neck, beginning to kiss your neck gently like he did with your wrist. you groan at the feeling, leaning into his touch more as if to please him. He laughs lightly at your reaction, kissing your temple “You’re adorable.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You feel so relaxed with his gentle touches and kisses “I love you….” You murmur to him. “I know,” He answers back, his tone is so soft but you can hear the love laced within it. Your breath hitched when he kissed your neck yet harder this time as if wanting to leave something behind on your skin.

You let out a tiny whine. “Shh,” he whispers again, kissing you harder, making you whimper again.

“Let me enjoy you.”

𝐵𝑜𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓁𝓁

“Come on darling, when are ya goin' show meh some mercy already?”

“I thought you could handle it, Space Ranger.”

Looking beneath you is a sight for sore eyes for anyone else yet not for you. But the red lipstick marks all over Boothill’s face and mental body—just the way the lipstick reflects off of him, just makes you wanna do way more than you already have.

It’s hard to resist.

“I think this is a new low for ya darling, don think?” He smirks and grabs your waist, tugging you closer. “Didn’t take ya fo-wah the possessive type,” he snickers “Just can’t stand any hussy’s being near me, can ya.”

“so what?” you take his words confidently, pulling yourself even closer and pacing your hands around his neck. “Don’t get so cocky with me now Space Ranger, I know how you lose it when I kiss you.”

You say and press a soft kiss on his jaw before trailing down his neck. He gasps and grabs the back of your head, pulling you in deeper until your mouth is right against his ear. You can hear fans turning in his body while it heats up like a computer.

His grip tightens and pulls you closer still.

You smile at that. “That’s the spirit.” You mumble between kisses. Damn, you got him this time

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[glitterguts13]

Honkia star rail boys with a baby stuck in their pussy! (I love how you did this with the genshin boys)

The long-awaited part 2 is here!

Argenti There certainly was nothing beautiful about this situation. He'd kept a calm, clear head for the last 12 hours, but Argenti just can't find the last amount of strength needed to push this baby out. Each try leaves the head bulging from his aching pussy, but always slipping right back inside of him when he gasps for air.

Arlan The medical staff on the space station are second to none. Arlan expects them to help but...with the baby not showing any signs of distress, they don't have any reason to intervene. One nurse on each side, holding his legs so far back he worries his hips might break, he's left only able to struggle with pushing his unborn child to crown before it slips right back.

Aventurine Has he not suffered enough? The IPC medical staff seem more annoyed than anything, sharing irritated glances and reminding him over and over he has to push. Hard. It just isn't doing anything! He can feel them right there, large head keeping him stretched open, but no amount of pushing makes it budge.

Blade Is so very close to just cutting them out with his sword. It isn't like he'll die from it after all. Stubborn baby, resting right in his swollen cunt and ripping him open, only to refuse to come out all the way when it matters most.

Boothill There's a deep panic in his chest, head pounding with effort as his lungs feel full of fire. He has to get them out. He'd known people to die in childbirth back home, and he'd heard the cries of mothers holding their stillborn babies. He's lost one child already, he can't handle the idea of not being able to bring his second child safely into the world.

Dan Heng/Lunae The rest of the Astral Express crew are sleeping peaceful while he struggles alone in his room. His fingers brushed over the damp head of his stubborn child. Squatting low, he prays gravity will do the worst of the work for him, but he's finding it isn't helping at all. His baby is stuck, refusing to do more than peek out of his dripping pussy, the very real terror of having the call for help sinking in.

Dr. Ratio Did every bit of research he could do before his child was born. Versed himself in all the risks, tricks and tactics used to help bring newborns safely into the world. He's certain he can do so, on his own and better than any medical professional. However, as he's sprawled on his back, gasping for air, womb still full with child, he can't figure out what he's doing wrong. Why won't they come out? They don't seem to be stuck, but...no amount of pushing is making any progress.

Gallagher He told himself it was a bad idea. He was far too old for this shit...but...maybe leaving behind a piece of himself wasn't the worst idea. Well, that was before he was left bow-legged behind his bar, his baby's thick head stuck in his cunt, refusing to budge another millimeter no matter how hard he bore down. Luckily, being in a dream meant no 'real' danger...but it also meant no real help either.

Gepard His sisters are right by his side, offering all the help they can. Lynx has plenty of emergency medical training and had attended classes on childbirth in the past, but learning about something and doing it are very different things. Seeing her stoic brother wailing in agony, crying and pleading for her or Serval to do something, broke her heart. Writhing in pain, the sisters watch helplessly as their niece stubbornly stays lodged in Gepard's burning pussy.

Jiaoqiu There had been a few instances over his many years as a healer where he'd been called in to assist in delivering a baby. Doing it himself, however, was a much different task. The burn in his cunt was indescribable, he can feel his baby wiggling unhappily in his birth canal, but no amount of pushing was dislodging them.

Jing Yuan He'd tired, so very tired. The best healers and medics on the Loufu were attending him, sharing worried looks as each push grew more and more weak. The baby was there, he can feel them opening him up with each struggle, but always retreating back inside the safety of his pussy.

Luka After nearly two hours of pushing, Luka knows he isn't making any progress on his own. With the baby crowning in his cunt, he struggles through back alleys as he limps his way to Natasha's clinic.

Luocha Using the coffin he carries as an anchor, he squats, deep and low. Each push causes his dripping pussy to squelch, the head just barely peeking through, before sliding right back into place inside his womb.

Misha Sobbing and gagging on spit and bile, Misha feels as if his hips are cracking open, his tight cunt being torn open as his baby stays firmly stuck right at full crown. Each push and squeeze leaves him feeling more and more hopeless.

Sampo Maybe this was just another joke Aha was playing on him. One hand cupped the head sticking from his pussy, the other pressing down on his rock-hard belly, trying to force them from his womb and into the world.

Sunday Dignity stripped away, legs held open for the other family heads to see, Sunday sobs. Labor had dragged on for days, and each failed push earned him another disapproving sigh and scoff. The midwives are standing nearby, watching, ordered to not touch unless Sunday's light was in danger. It isn't, but he feels like death as his unborn baby refuses to leave the safety of his womb. Welt Much like Dan Heng, Welt closes himself inside of his room. He knows it's time, his baby is right there, teasing him with the relief of being born, but refusing to leave his exhausted form. Yanqing This feels like one final test of his strength, and he feels like he's failing. His baby is just too big, and his hips too narrow. The head is right there, but no matter how far back the midwives pull his legs, or how hard they push on his aching tummy, nothing moves his baby any further.

[saharaadesertt]

💫 Across the Cosmos Ch.1 💫] Just a Night of Beauty, Passing By... 🌹

Summary: Boothill and Argenti live similar lives- it's only natural that they are bound to run into each other. But what happens if they see each other again... and again... and again? Boothill and Argenti, two mysterious beings that are shrouded in mystery, learn about each other through several chance encounters and learn that it's okay to not only be in the company of someone but to enjoy their company as well.

tags: pov alternating, angst, nostalgia, fate/destiny, star-crossed lovers, feels

word count: 1.5k

note: attempting a fic with multiple chapters, i hope this turns out okay and i am open to compliments and/or criticism. i hope you enjoy reading as these two brought me out of my writing hole haha

A flash of red hair, the glimmer of metal armor, the faint scent of roses...

For the past few months, the Galaxy Ranger Boothill has associated these three features together. As someone who never spends too much time in one place fighting crime and making the world a better place, he found it quite odd that he kept seeing the same hair and smelling the same floral aroma no matter where he went. It was almost like this person was following him, trying to hunt him down to take him, turn him in, and fulfill the bounty that was tacked onto him like an omen. Boothill had this scenario play in his head a few times, fueling his anxiety as he traveled the cosmos. But- and Boothill assured himself with this but- if this person really wanted to turn him in for the money, wouldn't they have done it by now? Would it really be worth it to torture him with several sightings and wear him down over time when the bounty was already so high? And besides- why would you want to smell like flowers if your main goal was hunting down a keen Galaxy Ranger? It was almost like this mysterious individual had business of his own with every planet he traveled to, just like Boothill...

But none of that matters right now. All Boothill needs is this fine glass of Asdana's White Oak sitting in front of him. He, having spent the past week trying to track down a gang of delinquents that sought to leak interstellar secrets, found that he needed a well-needed break and reward. He found himself at this restaurant horrendously underdressed, wandering in on a whim since this city was brand new to him. It was similar to Penacony, but not as extreme (something Boothill was grateful for, he did not need another situation like that, as exhilarating as it was).

Boothill looks at the food being carried out by waiters and waitresses, the smell of them registering something that can only be similar to hunger without the desire to eat. It smelled good, but ever since he sacrificed his body his care and love for food vanished. He sometimes wondered what would happen if he ate something but he didn't think that that scenario would end well. He resorted to dreaming of the past barbecue nights he would have with his family... a shame that everything that happened happened the way it did.

Although he was a cyborg, the one thing that somehow lasted with Boothill was the tipsy feeling that came from drinking alcohol. It seemed that the metabolism aspect to get the alcohol out of his circuit system was the same, and it was very evident now as Boothill's face began to blush a dark red. He decided that although this was a well-earned moment, it was one that would be best done in the comfort of the space that he rented. He would hate to overdo his drinking in a public space and as prideful as he can be his tipsy stupor was telling him any more alcohol could not end up well for anyone involved. 

After ordering another bottle of Asdana's White Oak and paying the bill, Boothill did his very best to walk out of the restaurant. The sun had set, with several streetlamps painting the road with a dark yellow hue. The sky, sullied by light pollution, had minimal stars but a few dull specks of light that rarely twinkled. Boothill walked on the sidewalk alone, taking in the city in a moment of mindfulness. The few stars in the sky made him wonder what other planets were out there, what other lives people were having. In a way, Boothill believed in parallel universes, but he wouldn't wish anyone, not even his worst enemy, a life that was similar to his. Before he knew it, the bottle of alcohol was gone, the taste of it being only a faint whisper on his lips as he drank mindlessly. 

Fudge.

He shouldn't have done that. The world was spinning now with every staggered step Boothill took. He needed to rest. He started to move towards and lean on a store building, praying that he wouldn't short-circuit and pass out. His prayers went unanswered as he started to feel his wires jump and glitch, causing Boothill to slowly lose his balance and sit against the wall.

Oh, fudge this.

Boothill was in a bad position. He physically couldn't stand up, nor could he call for help as he would find the words in his state. The world was spinning to the point where he couldn't even see. His eyes slowly swooped closed as he hoped someone would be nearby to call for assistance, whatever assistance could help someone who was 90% metal.

Just before his eyes closed, Boothill swore he saw something familiar. It was almost like he saw a flash of red, accompanied with the faint smell of roses. 

~~~~~~

Argenti always took great pride in his hair. The scarlet hair cascaded down to his back, almost sparkling when exposed to the light and highlighting his emerald eyes. When he first started following Idrilla, he made it his duty to present himself in the best way possible, and that led to morning and night routines that sometimes lasted hours.

Morning: brush hair, skincare, check armor for scratches and dullness, attend to the indoor garden of plants that have been collected from years of travel (Argenti treats his plants as he would a dog or cat)

Night: skincare, haircare, polish armor, prayers to Idrilla 

Argenti should've been at his space station an hour ago. Alas, he got occupied in his local perfumery. The planet he stopped by on a whim turned out to have amazing shopping experiences, and he gravitated towards the oils made of rose and other botanicals. A lot of credits went down the drain, but if it meant that he could further impress and inspire Idrilla, it was worth every credit. He rushed out of the store, wanting to rush back to get at least 8 hours of sleep. He began to turn to his right when a glint of something caught his eye.

Metal...?

It was metal, but not from a ring or from a littered soda can. It was from a man, a man who was more metal than flesh. He looked like he was in rough shape, with his cheeks flushed, cowboy hat tipped over his head, and his breathing slightly ragged. He had a bottle in his hand, and it was obvious he drank quite a bit. Argenti started to think about what he could do, this was a person in need and by the name of Beauty, he was here to help. The only thing that Argenti thought about is taking him to his place, but that seemed like it would push the lines of what Idrilla would want. However, the need to help a person also aligned with being a Knight of Beauty, so saving a poor soul was the right thing to do to Argenti. 

In one swoop, Argenti picked up the cowboy, the metal of his body clanking with the armor of his own. Argenti winced slightly, making a mental note to take extra time to polish when he got home. Luckily, the space station was not far at all and in 10 minutes flat Argenti was able to lay the man on his couch before heading to the bathroom to attend to his haircare, humming to himself. Suddenly, he heard low mumbling that seemed to be accompanied by short sobs. In a flash, Argenti poked his head out to see the man turning his head, eyebrows scrunched and sweat covering his forehead. A singular tear rolled down his cheek.

"Don't go..."

Argenti tilted his head. The poor man must be having a nightmare. A prayer to Idrilla instantly left Argenti's lips, wishing peace and serenity to the man who lay on his couch. Deciding to delay his night routine, he walked over and sat in the chair that sat next to the sofa. He took a good hard look at the man he picked up, the first time he had a chance to process the features of this mystery visitor. His hair was white and tinged with black, his ears pierced and adorned with what looked like bullet casings. His hat had seen better days, worn but still showing that it was taken good care of. With his mouth slightly agape, Argenti saw teeth that were pointy and sharp.

Just seeing a person in his home was something new to Argenti. As a Knight of Beauty, he spent the majority of his time in solitude in an oath to Idrilla. But Argenti, already crafting a prayer of forgiveness to Idrilla, knew that this man needed the safety of a home and the company of someone to make sure he is well enough to venture out on his own again.

Argenti decided, after wiping the tear on the man's face, that it was okay to continue his night routine. As he began to untangle his hair, something small but nagging began to pull at Argenti's gut.

Haven't I seen that man before?

i am also uploading this and future chapters on ao3 which i will update first so if you want to view it there, this is the link https://archiveofourown.org/works/56888251/chapters/144650071 :)

[glassrowboat]

(I haven't had the chance to play his quest yet, so forgive me if this clashes against anything we learned).

Your fingers were already twitching to get back on the machine that lay before you again, aching to touch, to explore, to learn every crevice better than you know the back of your own hand. After all, what were some calloused hands covered in knicks from the times you forgot to put on gloves compared to this beauty before you? Shining in the low light of the lamp you had flicked on to get a better look at this cyborg and the holographic screen currently pulled up with its blueprints. Or, what you could make of them with the screening you did.

There was a lot to uncover here between layer upon layer of metal plating, cables, and tech you had never seen before. Each little detail reflects a neon blue in your eyes as you take it all in.

This would be worth the headache you'd get later. A few pills aren't enough to equal out to the marvel you had access to.

Well, keyword here being had as that space cowboy groaned as he woke up. His hands immediately ran over the once damaged torso he had come to you for.

Just thinking about it had you clicking your tongue. Annoyance is clear in your expression as you meet Boothill’s eyes. Another thing you want to dissect, but it's best not to look too over excited. Not yet, anyhow.

“What kind of idiot gets hit by a ray gun and decides the best thing he can do in the moment is stumble into some random shop for cover?”

He was just lucky you knew a thing or two about this stuff, though the sign outside reading ‘repair shop’ must have been what drew Boothill in. He's literate, at least. That or extremely lucky.

“I wasn't exactly in the best spot to fuck around, so I had to get my shit together. Pull myself up by my bootstraps and figure out what backup plan I could rely on. Stumblin’ in here just so happened to be my plan to make a break for it.”

And he had a foul tongue.

Your fingers danced over the blueprint again, scouring it over with the same intensity you did the gift that had quite literally dropped at your door to find where his Synesthesia Beacon is. You'll have to alter that later, maybe make it so he can't speak to you so crudely. After all, something even Aeons themselves would stop to take a spared glance at shouldn't be so crass.

“I was under the impression a southern gentleman would know it's best not to waggle his tongue like that in front of someone he's in debt to.”

“Nah, that ain't it. That's for ladies and fine folks and from what I can see,” his eye (the one you can see) looked around your workshop, taking in the tools lining the walls, the rags thrown around the disposal bin, and finally: you. You in your oil covered glory with specks of ash on your cheek from trying to scratch an itch with your gloves on. “You ain't no lady.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked, head cocking to the side.

“‘Sides, I'm not a stick up the ass southern gent either.”

“Seems we're at a draw then.”

You rolled your eyes as he said something about a standoff. Boothill really is playing into every cliche you know about those western movies from the planet Earth. Dingy old hat all the way down to the spurs on his boot.

Wait a minute, are his shoes part of his leg, and he just has a sole slapped on the bottom?

That's gonna have to be addressed later too.

“So, space cowboy, are you going to tell me how you got into trouble in the first place? That way, I know what to chew you out for.”

“Don't see how that matters to ya, mechanic. ‘Sides, it all worked out in the end, didn't it?” Boothill shrugged.

He was so lax. Far too casual about nearly destroying something so state of the art even the friend you had called in to discuss what parts needed to be replaced couldn't be named. Though, she did give you an odd look on her way out.

“Alright Boothill, it seems we need to lay down some ground rules.” You marched over to him, not caring one bit as the man flinched the moment your foot stomped down between his open legs (not that you're sure he has anything down there anyway).”First, open communication does tend to help in new partnerships.”

Boothill’s eyes flicked from your well-worn boots, tattered at the edges, revealing the steel toe underneath, back up to you. “Partnership? Are you for fucking real?”

“Dead serious.”

He had a little bullseye for a pupil, glaring up at you in what you could only guess is annoyance or pure unbridled astonishment that you'd go around ordering the guy who had tried to grasp for his gun to point at your head as he came in.

You'd have to see if the other eye matches sometime.

“Come on, Boothill, whoever was fixing you up before clearly wasn't who you ran to, meaning you had no other choice.”

“I was in a bit of a pinch you see.”

You gestured to one of the plates on his chest, one crossed over with a giant X that had your eye twitching at the thought someone dared to damage this body in such a way. Or at all, really. “And when I get the material in for your ‘pec’ there, I can fix you up and make you look all…spiffy.”

Sure, that sounded like something a cowboy would say.

He snorted out a laugh, and you couldn't help but wonder if he could huff out steam if his body was overheating to help cool it down. After all, it would only make sense that Boothill had some sort of internal system to keep the heat down.

“And what the fuck makes you unable to do it now?”

“The IPC. What you're made out of, buddy, is hard to come by when they have a monopoly on the metal.” You said as you tapped his chest, your knuckle rapping against the very plating you were talking about.

Boothill couldn't help but scoff, his lips curling up to reveal the sharp teeth you had run your finger over before to figure out what their purpose was.

To help make bullets, you learned.

Truly, whoever made this machine, this Aeonsend itself, was a genius beyond your caliber, but you had to start somewhere to grow even if it meant studying their work with a fever.

“You're about as crazy as a loon, pardner."

Your brow quirks at the word, ‘partner’ coming from the man who had literally just been whining about the idea of collaborating before.

His mind seemed to change far too quickly, settling on one thing to the next with an ease you'll have to learn to get used to. Still, you held out your hand as you asked: “So it's a then deal, cowboy?”

“It's a deal.”

His hand fit perfectly in your own, digits that flexed with ease despite their composition, the cold feel of metal you've grown so used to, and the WD-40 you had used to shine him up all clean earlier.

You'd have to figure out how his hand worked, too.

mechanic reader who fawns over boothill's machine body with torrents of praise worthy of the sappiest romance novels—but doesn't even consider the man attached to all those gorgeous wires and fine pistons and elegant hydrolics and ooh, what an efficient system of dynamic pseudo-muscle memory!! you're so honoured to work with this beauty, to innovate upon it, even!

boothill, meanwhile, is fighting for his life to be acknowledged.

exhibit A:

he's laying on a metal slab in your lab, half of his chest popped open, your fingers fiddling inside with the tubes that feed into a fuel tank. you acquired top-grade Neutrinoil(TM) and you simply HAD to deep-clean and upgrade his plumbing. so he has to watch and bear it while you're straddling him, hands in his guts, cooing about how perfectly efficient he's about to be, how much energy he'll have, how that "awesome new engine's gonna exploit every last drop, not an inkling wasted, and this beautiful machine will run for ages."

"if ya like it so much, why not drop by my ship later? i could show ya a trick or two. put that new energy to use."

you perk up with excitement, and for a glimmering instant he thinks he's got it in the bag, until you gleefully announce, "oh, no, let's do it in my workshop! i'll hook you up to the scanners first, i must collect as much data as possible!! wait, is it a physical trick or should i also plug in the peri-mental data receptors?"