#can't get the slime off of you no matter how hard you try
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Maybe being a clone doesn't scare me because I had to recreate myself at one point in my life. When I was going through major depression (not like lol depression, but it was very bad), I reached a point where I could not differentiate myself from the depression. Depression seeped into every fiber of my being that I essentially lost everything that made me me. Changing for the better meant scrapping everything I knew. I had to start from scratch and build myself back up piece by piece. It was terrifying. Depression, as bad as it was, became a crutch I could always rely on. It was steady and consistent. It was everything I knew. To let it go meant venturing out into a world that I had no clue what was what anymore. I had to go on blind faith that I would make it through.
I've done it once I probably can do it again.
#rambles#i think that a lot of people that have had depressive episodes don't know how much worse major depression is#it's one thing to struggle with depression and another to be caught in the storm with no way out#i remember crying so much believing i was the worst person alive and didn't deserve to be loved#i remember wishing i was never born or hoping something would kill me in my sleep#i remember being absolutely starving barely having eaten in days but still being completely unable to eat#i remember crying forcing myself to stomach a few bites from an apple haha... took me more than an hour#it's so odd that it can make you feel so terrible yet you'll become codependent upon it#it's sticky like natto#can't get the slime off of you no matter how hard you try#until it becomes you#and it will *become* you#recreating yourself from that is such a task#in depression you'll lose what you're likes are... your dislikes... your hobbies... your beliefs... your values...#you lose essentially everything#you have to discover all of these things all over again#and then there's the fear that what if you come out of this as someone you can't even recognize?#this is why i'm so pushy when it comes to ppl with depression symptoms#pls just go to a doctor and get medicated#the more you leave it alone the greater the chance you'll end up like me#okay i shall finally sleep
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Three times you ask Kinich for something and the one time he asks for something.
tags: first person soz, bff! Mualani, I forgot ab Ajaw lol, y/n has a vision, established relationship, first kiss, just cute as hell, ft. me trying to write romantic tension.
wc: 3.6k
a/n: idk,, i think he needs more fics but yes crossposted on ao3 still editing as well
feel free to leave me req or msgs for any charc <3!
◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢
I think this was the fifth time I had water up my nose this afternoon. Or maybe it was the sixth, definitely. My nose and throat burned as I gasped for air above the water. My surfboard flung up beside me with another slap of water to my face. I hoisted myself back up to sit over my borrowed board. Mualani let me borrow one of her old ones from childhood. Since I'd never been able to surf. I wrung out my hair over my shoulder. "This is so hard," I whined to Mualani who padded over on her own board over to me.
Mualani only laughed, laying down on her stomach, "You're doing fine for a beginner." I doubted it. "Keep practicing, maybe you could finally convince Kinich to come to swim."
I snorted and rolled my eyes, "Yeah like that'll happen."
Mualani giggled, "He's a lost cause. Maybe if you asked him nicely, he might change his mind," she teased, sending me a look with a knowing smile.
"I don't think a simple 'please' will do the trick," I retorted, paddling my board backward in the shallows. "He'd probably just come up with some excuse like 'I don't want to get my clothes wet' or something, and then go back to what he was doing," I grumbled.
Mualani snickered. "He can be such a diva sometimes. It's like he's scared to have any fun. I don’t know how you can date a guy like that."
She was being dramatic. He wasn’t that bad. I’ve known practically everyone since I was a kid, I know the ins and outs. Kinich just.. more so liked to keep to himself. I didn’t mind it though it really seemed like we had just become really good friends now even after putting a relationship title on us.
"Though I'm sure he'd do anything you asked," Mualani says with a nod
I quickly looked away.
"Don't be ridiculous," I mumbled, "Kinich doesn't listen to anyone, let alone me." I quickly looked away.
Mualani gave me a knowing smile. "Oh come on, don't pretend you haven't noticed the way he looks at you. That boy is absolutely smitten with you."
I tried to feign indifference, though my heart thumped in my chest. "He doesn't look at me any differently than he looks at everyone else."
Mualani raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious? He's practically drooling every time you're around. And he always insists on helping you with anything you need, no matter how menial."
I shifted uncomfortably in my waterlogged swimsuit. "That's just who he is. He's like that with everyone. He's just...a good guy." I don’t think I wanted to spill my guts with my best friend about my relationship just yet.
Mualani rolled her eyes. "You can be so clueless sometimes. Trust me on this."
I huffed, pushing my soaked hair out of my eyes. "Even if you're right, which you're not, I doubt he'd ever actually do anything about it. Kinich is too aloof to make a move."
Mualani smirked. "That's where I think you're wrong. I've seen the way he stares at you when you're not looking. That boy has it bad. If you ask me, he's just been waiting for the right moment.”
I narrowed my eyes with a laugh, "Sure, and dendro slimes will fly someday. Besides, I can't even imagine Kinich acting all romantic. He's too sarcastic and quippy for mushiness."
Mualani shrugged. "Maybe you should try giving him a hint then. See if he responds. I know he'd be all over you in a heartbeat if he thought he had a chance."
"I don't know, Mualani...he's always been so closed off. It wouldn’t feel natural."
Mualani grinned. "Well, you could always try being a bit more... flirtatious. Give him some nonverbal cues to let him know you're interested. A touch on the arm, a smile, a compliment, something like that. See how he responds."
"Yeah, nope," I said with a determined nod, I'd give up my pyro vision back to our archon before doing something as embarrassing as that.
“C'mon! What’s the harm in it?”
I gave Mualani a pointed look, “The harm is we’ve only been together three months.”
Mualani groaned, “But you’ve been friends for years!” She emphasized by splashing me with water.
I splashed her back, “I don’t expect anything from Kinich, Lani, I’m fine with what we have now.”
“Yeah, but, did you ask him that? Maybe he wants to be closer with you.”
Okay, yeah maybe I hadn’t thought about that. I paused mid-splash attack. “Oh.”
Another splash of water to my face, as I tipped sideways losing balance sitting on my surfboard. I tipped straight into the water making another splash for the seventh time.
Mualani was laughing when I arose from the surface. “Just try it. It’s not like he’ll outright reject you.”
I gave Mualani a glare, “I’m going to go change. I’m done learning today.”
“Ouchie, you really know how to burn me.” Mualani sighs with a dramatic expression.
“Insanity.” I mumbled padding back to the shore with my best friend trailing behind me. Still making dramatic plans about how to get my boyfriend to be more open. I was not listening as she rambled all the way back to my house.
◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢
I liked living right beside the hot springs. Even the ones that weren’t heated were usually the ones I gravitated towards. Given that Natlan was already hot, I never remembered my normal body temperature being this hot before I received my Pyro vision.
But right now, I think I was jealous of Cyro Vision users. Kachina had requested my help near her tribe. She wanted to collect flowers among herbs, and fruits for the traveler to help her gain enough confidence to enter into the night warden wars.
But it was too hot, and I was craving a bath. Being drenched in sweat was horrible. I didn’t want to complain in front of Kachina so I continued to follow her, we’d strayed far from The Children of The Echo’s tribe.
“Do you think this is enough?” I asked the smaller girl once we’d stopped near a stream.
“Uh-! I-.. I think so!” Kachina reached her arms up to take the fruits nestled in my bag. I happily let her take it as I took a seat near the stream for a much-needed breather.
“Great, I’m just gonna.. sit down for a while.”
Kachina gave me a nod with a bright smile. Which in turn made me smile. I felt like a big sister whenever I was with Kachina. It made it better that she was so smart and easy to talk to. I closed my eyes as a gust of wind helped cool my sweltering face.
Kachina sat down beside me, dipping her toes into the water. “Thank you for helping me today, I really appreciate it.”
I smiled, grateful for the respite. “Of course, Kachina. It’s the least I can do. The Traveler did so much for you.”
She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah, they really did. I wouldn’t have had the courage to join the Night Warden Wars without their support.”
We sat by the stream, the cool water lapping at my feet, and my mind drifted back to what Mualani had said the day before. Could it really be that simple? Just say please? I found myself lost in a whirlwind of emotions as the cool water of the stream rippled around me.
“Y/n? Y/n!” Kachina’s voice broke through my reverie, pulling me back to the present.
”Huh.” I blinked, realizing she was talking to someone. I turned to see Kinich standing there, looking a bit awkward but smiling warmly.
“Hey, Y/n,” he greeted, his voice a little uncertain. “Are you okay?”
I forced a smile, trying to shake off my embarrassment. “Oh, hey, Kinich. Yeah, I’m fine. Just, you know, dying of the heat,” I joked, fanning myself dramatically.
He chuckled, his eyes softening. “Yeah, it’s pretty brutal today.” He turned to me and narrowed his eyes. “Should you really be out here for much longer? You don’t look so good.”
Before I could respond, Kachina’s face fell, and she quickly apologized. “Oh no, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you weren’t feeling well. I shouldn’t have taken you so far.”
I shook my head, giving her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Kachina. I wanted to come out and help you. Really.”
She still looked worried, but I could see she was trying to believe me. I took a deep breath, deciding albeit hesitantly that if I were to test Mualani’s theory. Any time would be the best time “Kinich, could you please get me some water from the stream? I think it would help me cool down.”
To my surprise, he didn’t hesitate. Without a single sarcastic comment or playful tease, he nodded and walked over to the stream. The next thing I felt was the cool, wet rag on my forehead, and sighed in relief. Kinich's gentle touch was comforting as he helped me sit back down. My body was still cooling off from Natlan’s scorching heat.
"Thank you, Kinich," I said, looking up at him with a small smile.
He smiled back, though it was more a twitch of lips upwards, his eyes warm. "It was no problem at all. Just take it easy for a bit."
I nodded, leaning back into the grass. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kachina watching us. She seemed to be trying hard not to look awkward, and I couldn't help but find it endearing.
"Are you okay, Y/n?" Kachina asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.
"Yeah, I think so," I replied, giving her a reassuring smile. "Just a bit... overwhelmed, I guess."
Kachina nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly. "You two are really cute together," she blurted out, then immediately looked like she regretted it.
Kinich chuckled softly, and I felt my own cheeks flush. "Thanks, Kachina," I said, trying to ease her embarrassment.
She smiled, looking a bit more relaxed. "Well, if you need anything, I'm here to help."
"Thanks," I said, appreciating her kindness. "I think I'll be okay now."
Kinich gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "Just rest for a bit. I'll be right here."
I nodded, feeling a little lightheaded. Not from the heat though. As I leaned back, feeling the coolness of the rag on my forehead, my mind wandered to Mualani’s words. Maybe she was right.
◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢
A couple of days later, I found myself in Xilonen’s shop, surrounded by shelves filled with various trinkets and artifacts. The air was filled with the scent of herbs and old parchment, a comforting reminder of the past. Xilonen and I were busy organizing her shop, a task that felt both familiar and soothing.
“Thanks for helping out, Y/n,” Xilonen said, her voice warm. “I’ve been meaning to get this place in order for ages.”
“No problem,” I replied, placing a stack of scrolls on a nearby shelf. “It’s nice to catch up. We haven’t had much time together since the war ended.”
She nodded a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Yeah, things have been so hectic. But it’s good to see you. How have you been holding up?”
I shrugged, trying to keep my tone light. “I’ve been okay. Just trying to figure things out, you know?”
Xilonen smiled knowingly. “I get it. It’s been a strange time for all of us. But I’m glad you’re here. It feels like old times.”
We continued to work in comfortable silence for a while, the rhythm of our movements almost meditative. As we sorted through a box of ancient artifacts, Xilonen suddenly looked up, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “So, I heard a little rumor that you and Kinich are dating now. Is it true?” Probably from Mualani...
I felt my face heat up slightly but nodded. “Yeah, it’s true.”
Xilonen grinned. “I knew it! How’s that going? I mean, considering how Kinich… is.”
I chuckled, understanding what she meant. “It’s going fine, actually. He’s been really sweet and supportive. It’s still new, but we’re figuring it out.”
She nodded, her expression softening. “That’s good to hear. Kinich can be ahh.. how do I put this? Blunt? but he has a good heart.”
“Yeah, he does,” I agreed, feeling a warm glow at the thought of him. “He’s been really great.”
we continued to clean, the door to the shop opened, and Kinich walked in. His eyes immediately found mine, and he smiled warmly Again, just the hint of his lips turning at the corners. “Hey, Y/n,” he greeted, then turned to Xilonen. “Xilonen.”
“Hey, Kinich,” I replied, feeling a flutter of happiness at seeing him.
Xilonen gave him a playful look. “Didn’t expect to see Y/n here, huh?”
Kinich chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah, I was a bit surprised. What’s going on?”
Xilonen rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, so I can’t see my friend for a day? I asked Y/n to help me clean up since it’s been a while.”
Kinich nodded, looking a bit awkward. “Right, of course. Well, it’s good you both are here. I actually came by to let you know that someone from The Children of the Echos commissioned me for a project, so I don’t have much time to chat.”
“That’s great, What kind of project?” genuinely wanting to know
He shrugged, a small smile on his face. “It’s a bit of a mystery for now, but I’ll fill you in later.”
Xilonen smirked. “Always keeping secrets, huh?”
Kinich laughed. “Something like that. Anyway, I just wanted to say hi. I’ll catch up with you both later.”
It was the perfect time to test Mualani's theory further. I spotted an item on a high shelf that I couldn't reach and decided to ask Kinich for help.
"Kinich, could you please help me get that down?" I called out, pointing to a random scroll.
He stopped talking to Xilonen almost instantly and came up behind me. "Sure, what do you need?" he asked, his voice so, so close to my ear.
I pointed at the scroll again. "That one, right up there."
Without hesitation, Kinich reached over my head and grabbed it, his arm brushing against mine. He handed it to me with a smile. "Here you go."
"Thanks," I said, feeling a bit flustered by how quickly he had responded.
"No problem," he replied. "I have to go now, but I'll see you later." He turned to Xilonen and me, giving us both a quick nod. "Goodbye, Xilonen. Bye, Y/n."
"Bye, Kinich," we both said in unison as he left the shop.
As the door closed behind him, Xilonen turned to me with a curious look. "What was that? I've never seen Kinich act like that before."
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I don't know. Maybe he's just being extra helpful today."
Xilonen raised an eyebrow. "Extra helpful, huh? Well, whatever it is, it's definitely interesting."
I smiled, Maybe Mualani was onto something after all.
“I should get going too,” I said, giving Xilonen a hug. “Thanks for today. It was really nice to catch up.”
"Oh yeah totally! I can handle the rest here. Also, come by anytime,” she replied, hugging me back. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
“I won’t,” I promised, smiling as I headed out the door.
◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢
I found myself back at Mualani’s place, surfboard in hand and ready for another lesson. Mualani was determined to teach me how to surf, and I was equally determined to make her proud, even if it meant a few more wipeouts.
“Hey, ‘Lani!” I greeted her, adjusting my swimsuit as I approached. “Ready for another round?”
Mualani grinned, her eyes always sparkling with excitement. “Always! But first, tell me have you been messing with Kinich? He’s been super quiet. More than usual.”
I laughed, setting my surfboard down. “Really? That’s funny. I’ve been testing your theory. It’s been interesting, to say the least. I really don’t think he’s reacting. He’s doing things any normal boyfriend would do.”
She nodded enthusiastically. “You absolutely need to keep it up. Yesterday he looked like he was going to explode.”
I snorted a laugh Mualani clapped her hands together. “Alright, enough talk. Let’s hit the waves!”We headed down to the beach, the sound of the ocean filling the air.
As we paddled out, Mualani and I chatted about everything and nothing, enjoying the easy flow of conversation. Suddenly, someone from the tribe called out to Mualani, needing her assistance with something urgent.
Mualani sighed, giving me an apologetic look. “Duty calls. Just focus on balancing on the board for now, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Got it!” I called, watching as she paddled back to the shore.
Left to my own devices, I paddled out to the shallow part of the water. I stood up on the board, feeling the gentle sway of the ocean beneath me. Balancing was tricky, but I was determined to get the hang of it. I took a deep breath, focusing on keeping my stance steady.
The sun was warm on my skin, and the sound of the waves was soothing.
My balance wavered, and I tumbled into the water with a splash. As I surfaced, sputtering and wiping the saltwater from my eyes, I heard a familiar voice.
"Having trouble there?" Kinich asked, a teasing smile on his face.
I felt my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. "Maybe just a little," I admitted, trying to laugh it off.
He chuckled, wading over to me. "Here, let me help you." He reached out, steadying me as I stood up in the water. His hands were firm but gentle, and I felt a bit more stable with his support.
"Thanks," I mumbled reeling from the taste of saltwater, feeling self-consciousness.
"No problem," he replied, still holding my surfboard, "Everyone falls sometimes. It's part of the learning process."
I nodded, appreciating his encouragement. "Yeah, I guess so."
He handed me the board, his eyes warm with amusement. "Just keep at it. You'll get the hang of it."
The sun glinted off the water as I turned towards Kinich, curiosity, and anxiety bubbling with the ripples of the water.
“Kinich,” I called out, voice catching the wind.
“Would you help me with this, please? I mean, with keeping my balance on the board?”
His gaze softened, and without a word, he nodded. With practiced ease, he dropped the surfboard into the water, and it settled with a small splash. Approaching me, he placed his hands gently around my waist, lifting me as if I weighed nothing.
My heart beat wildly, like drums against my chest—not just from the thrill, but from the intimate touch. Kinich’s hands lingered longer than necessary as he steadied me on the board, fingers warm against her skin through the thin fabric of my swimsuit. His grip was firm, yet tender, as though he was acutely aware of his strength and its effect.
“This good?” he asked, voice low, almost a whisper. It sent shivers down my spine, as I nodded, unable to find my voice. So instead I nodded, slowly.
Once Kinich was convinced Ihad found my balance, he slowly let go. For a few moments, I managed to stay upright, it was my triumph. But the waves had other plans. The board wobbled violently beneath my feet, and with a startled yelp, I lost my footing. In the blink of an eye, I grabbed onto Kinich, pulling him down with me. We both plunged into the cool embrace of the ocean. Breaking the surface, I wiped the water from my eyes, only to be met with the sight of a thoroughly drenched and disheveled Kinich. My initial shock dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“I am so sorry!” I gasped between laughs, noticing the way his usually calm demeanor was replaced with a mixture of surprise a cute scowl. “You look... upset.”
Kinich’s expression softened, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. “Upset with you? Never.”
His eyes held mine, a glint of mischief playing in their sunsets. “Actually,” he continued, his voice low and sincere, “since you’ve been asking so politely, I thought I might as well ask the same... Can I please kiss you?”
Time seemed to pause as his words settled over. The world faded around us, leaving just the two of us in that perfect, sunlit moment. I barely managed a nod.
Kinich's lips met mine with a tenderness that took my breath away. The kiss was soft, almost hesitant as if he was savoring the moment, afraid it might slip away too soon. His hands, still resting on my hips, tightened slightly, pulling closer but never forcefully.
I felt the warmth of his touch through the cool water, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on my revealed skin. The world around us seemed to fade, leaving only the sensation of his lips on mine and the steady rhythm of our breaths mingling.
As the kiss deepened, Kinich's hand moved to cradle my face, his thumb brushing lightly against my cheekbone. It was a gesture of pure affection, a silent promise of his care and respect. I responded in kind, my own hands finding their way to his shoulders, feeling the strength and warmth beneath my fingertips.
When we finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine, heavy breaths mingling in the space between us. Kinich's eyes searched mine, a soft smile playing on his lips. Before he frowned.
"Now please stop saying please," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the waves. "I can't take it anymore."
#lyna’s thots#kinich x reader#kinich#genshin#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#kinich x you#kinich x y/n#Kinich x reader fluff#he's kinda hot and bothered lol#genshin impact#genshin fanfic
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Infatuated ⭑˚💌⭑ 𝑎 𝑓𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑛𝑑
yandere!bnha x reader
yandere, reverse harem, bnha x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere
Your Quirk is rather unique. It plays out almost like a game, giving you missions and goals that help you become stronger. On top of that, you also have the ability to charm those around you. It sounds innocent enough on paper, and you can’t help but revel in the attention everyone keeps showering you with. But what happens when their feelings give way to something more sinister?
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If someone had asked you a few hours ago how you would be spending your day, you could never have predicted it would be like this.
There's a man in front of you, so incredibly gaunt that you might’ve mistaken him for a skeleton. His cheeks are completely sunken in, practically hollow, and nearly every time he speaks, blood spews out of his mouth.
This man is the greatest hero in the world, All Might.
Honestly, you're still struggling to make sense of it. Today has been one big series of misadventures. Starting with Katsuki’s merciless bullying of Izuku at school, then being attacked by some slime villain that attempted to take Izuku’s body hostage, to finally being rescued by All Might—only to discover that there's far more to him than meets the eye.
Izuku is especially horrified, since he’s idolized All Might for as long as you can remember.
“But... how?” he gapes. “Are you really All Might? No... it can’t be real. I just don’t understand how this could possibly be true...”
You can't really believe it either, at least not until All Might lets out a weary sigh and lifts up his shirt, revealing a gruesome wound that has you wondering how he's even still alive right now. Apparently, he got that injury from a villain several years ago, and the aftereffects are so severe that it has permanently weakened him. You're used to seeing the All Might that everyone else knows—that blindingly-bright, impressively muscular man who never stops smiling, no matter what. But the All Might standing in front of you right now couldn't be any more different. He isn't smiling, nor does he give off the impression of someone you can entrust with your life.
He isn't superhuman. He is flawed and weak, just like the average person.
“I can’t work as a hero for more than three hours per day,” All Might explains grimly. “That’s my limit. I was trying so hard to get away from you kids... but I guess the secret’s out now. This is my true form. My body just isn’t what it used to be. I’ve kept this hidden from the public, because I can only imagine how frightened people would be if they found out about my current state. No matter what, the Symbol of Peace cannot succumb to the forces of evil.”
Izuku splutters hopelessly. “But... but... whenever you save people, you’re always smiling and laughing. You always look so sure of yourself, and—”
“The reason I laugh isn’t because I’m not scared. I do it to distract myself from the constant fear and pressure weighing me down. Pro heroes must always put their lives on the line. It’s an incredibly dangerous job, and I doubt you’d ever find a hero who doesn’t get scared.” All Might pauses, then flashes Izuku a sympathetic look. “Earlier, you asked me if someone who is Quirkless can still become a hero. Knowing what I know about the hero profession, and all the dangers that come with it... I just can’t in good conscience bring myself to tell you that it’s possible.”
The second All Might utters those words, all the color drains from Izuku’s cheeks. You can see that he’s broken out into a cold sweat, and he's struggling to breathe evenly, veering dangerously close to a state of hyperventilation.
“I... see,” is all he manages to respond, staring blankly at the ground.
All Might tries to force a smile, but it isn't very reassuring. “If you care about saving people, you can always go into police work. The police don’t often receive the acknowledgment they deserve, but it is nonetheless an admirable profession. I can’t possibly condemn someone that has a dream. It’s a good thing to push yourself and try to reach your goals. But at the same time... you have to see reality for what it is, kid.”
Just like that, he leaves, and you can tell that Izuku’s entire world has just shattered.
Instinctively, you wrap your arms around him and squeeze tight. “Don’t listen to him,” you try to encourage. “Just because there aren’t any Quirkless heroes yet doesn’t mean there can’t be. It’s okay, Izuku. You can still try. Nothing is set in stone.”
Under ordinary circumstances, this might've worked. Granted, it isn't as if you can just snap your fingers and make everything okay all of a sudden, but you normally succeed in pacifying Izuku whenever he's going through a particularly rough patch. After hugging him and consoling him for a while, he usually calms down.
Unfortunately, this situation is far from ordinary, and thus, your attempts fall flat.
“Thanks, [Name].” Izuku’s eyes are already bloodshot and brimming with tears. He is thanking you, but you aren't even sure what for, considering how utterly broken he looks. “I’ll... be alright. All Might isn’t wrong. I need to see reality for what it is. I’ve been such an idiot, all this time.”
After staring into his vacant, tear-filled gaze, you feel like crying. But you don't , because that's the last thing Izuku needs right now. What use would you be if he ends up having to console you instead? For his sake, you have to stay positive.
Or at the very least, look it.
For a brief moment, you even consider using your Quirk to try and cheer him up. To put him under your control and make his mind dissociate, so that he won't have to feel the full intensity of his emotions right now. But doing that feels wrong, somehow. Especially if you don't have his explicit permission. In this moment, the most you can possibly do is keep on hugging him and make it abundantly clear just how much you believe in him, until he finally believes in himself.
Still. It just isn't fair. What has Izuku done to deserve any of this? Is it really not enough that people like Katsuki keep tormenting him? Why is he now forced to watch his biggest role model turn his back on him?
You are only fourteen years old, but you're realizing just how incredibly shitty life can be for some people.
“I’m okay,” Izuku insists, although his expression is practically blank by now. “I’m really okay, [Name]. You don’t need to worry.”
You smile weakly. “I know you are. Because you will become a hero. Today’s just been rough. Tomorrow will be better. I promise.”
You refuse to let go of his hand while you walk. Part of you is worried that once you do, you might lose him forever. You fear that he might finally succumb to all the pressure and give up on his dream. Give up on everything.
As it just so happens, though, life presents you with an opportunity. You hear loud chatter and spot a crowd of people gathered together. It doesn't take long for you to realize that all those people are probably watching heroes go head-to-head with a villain, and so, you pull Izuku in their direction, hoping that it will reignite the flame inside him that is on the verge of being snuffed.
“Look, Izuku,” you beam. “I wonder who’s fighting today? Let’s watch the heroes kick some villain butt!”
He's dragging his feet and looks visibly unenthusiastic, but old habits are hard to quit. Even as dejected as he is right now, he still can't stop himself from following you. It makes you hopeful that despite everything All Might said to him, he's still determined to do what he always dreamed of.
It was your intention to lift his spirits, but in the process of pulling him along, you end up doing the exact opposite.
There he is again—the slime villain that attacked the two of you earlier. But it just doesn't make any sense. You know for a fact that All Might captured him. Does that mean that he must have escaped at some point?
“It’s my fault,” Izuku gasps, hurrying to clamp his palms over his mouth. “Oh god,” he breathes shakily, voice muffled. “All Might must have dropped him or something! If only I hadn’t been so selfish and just stayed out of his business!”
You don't know what to say. Of course, you don't believe Izuku is to blame, but you are too petrified to say a damn word.
Because the slime villain’s latest victim isn't just anyone—it's someone you know very, very well.
Katsuki!
He's struggling with all his might, desperately fighting to stay conscious and resist succumbing to the villain. Katsuki is strong. He has always been strong. Even so, that doesn't make him indestructible. And right now, as he struggles to get enough air to even breathe, you can tell that he's terrified beyond words.
You want to help. You really, really do, but your previous experience with the slime villain already proved that you're helpless to do a damn thing.
More than anything, you're afraid of what might happen to you if you even try.
Izuku, however, is different. Which is why, while you stand there, frozen stiff from fear, Izuku has already started running.
You cry out to him, try to tell him that it's too dangerous, but he isn't listening. Despite being Quirkless, you know that Izuku is already more of a hero than most people could ever hope to be. That's why he doesn't hesitate for a moment to try and save someone, even when all the odds are stacked against him.
His bravery and selfless nature are what manage to finally spur you onwards, but when you try to run after him, one of the heroes on site pulls you back.
“Don’t!” he insists. “What that kid just did was incredibly reckless! You’re not going anywhere! You could get seriously hurt!”
The hero holds you in place, and you thrash and try to break free, even though you aren't a match for his strength. All the while, Izuku is doing everything he can possibly think of to try and free Katsuki from the slime villain. He throws his backpack at him, frantically pulls and claws at the slime to try and give Katsuki enough room to breathe—just anything.
He must be scared. So scared that he probably can't even think straight, but even so, he doesn't give up.
As a result, he manages to move the heart of a man who was convinced he’d already reached his limit for the day.
All Might appears out of nowhere, back in the broad, muscular state you're used to seeing him in. Blood is spewing out of his mouth, so you can tell that he's pushing himself beyond measure, but that's because he and Izuku are one and the same. When faced with someone who is in dire need of help, they both have a tendency to act first, and think later.
With All Might on the scene, the slime villain doesn't last much longer. You look on with tears in your eyes, shoulders sagging from relief when Izuku and Katsuki are finally both rescued. The villain’s amorphous body has splattered all over the place from the pressure of All Might’s punch, and it's safe to say that he’s been immobilized for good.
It's over. This hellish day has finally come to an end.
“Oh, Izuku,” you whimper, rushing straight over and wrapping him in a hug. “You nearly gave me a heart attack! I was so scared of what might happen to you...”
He chuckles weakly, blushing while he leans into your touch. “I-I’m okay. I know what I did was reckless, but... seeing Kacchan like that, I couldn’t possibly ignore him. His eyes looked they were pleading for help.”
“No, you did the right thing,” you insist. “You bought Katsuki enough time for All Might to act. You might’ve even been the one that inspired him to do so. I wish I could’ve run to help right away, like you did... but I was too scared. I’ve clearly still got a long way to go.”
“That’s giving me too much credit. I really couldn’t accomplish anything on my own...”
You expect that Izuku will be praised for his bravery, but instead, he is met with nothing but reprimands from some of the other heroes who reacted to the crisis. They berate him for charging headfirst into danger, without any concern for his own well-being. You try to point out that if not for Izuku, Katsuki might have already been done in by the time All Might showed up, but they aren't having it.
On the other hand, from what you can tell, Katsuki is being showered with praise. His explosion Quirk is incredibly powerful, and that, paired with his resilience and tough nature, has clearly made a strong impression on the pros. They're all amazed that he held out for so long against the slime villain, when most people would hardly have lasted a few minutes.
Katsuki is amazing, no doubt about it, but there's no mistaking how afraid he looked back there. No matter how headstrong and fearless he tries to act, at heart, he's still only a fourteen-year-old boy.
For that reason, you figure that what he needs most of all right now is not to be praised incessantly, but for someone to show him some genuine concern.
You hug Izuku one last time, stand up, then begin walking in Katsuki’s direction.
Unfortunately, you don't make it very far.
“Stay back,” Katsuki grits out, the veins in his forehead threatening to burst. “I know what’s going on in that stupid head of yours. I can tell based on that goddamn pitying expression you have. Stay back before I get really fucking mad.”
You want to show him that you care. Even if he is horrible to Izuku at times, especially earlier today, he's still your long-time friend. You doubt you'll ever lose the soft spot you have for him. Is it really too much to ask that he lets his guard down and accepts your consideration, for crying out loud?
“Katsuki—”
“No,” he spits. “Shut the fuck and march back to shitty Deku’s side. He’s the one you’re so obssesed with anyways.”
You shamefully look down at your feet. It seems like it's pointless to even try. No matter what you do , no matter what Izuku does, Katsuki keeps interpreting it as an insult. Izuku just tried to save his life, and yet Katsuki is still glaring at him as though he’s somehow been wronged.
None of it makes any sense, and it hurts to feel like things will never go back to the way they used to be.
Heeding Katsuki’s words, you trudge back over to Izuku. It's time to leave. It's been a long, incredibly tiring day, for you too, but Izuku especially. He needs to get some rest and put all of this behind him.
Right before you leave the scene, Katsuki makes sure to glare viciously in your direction one last time.
“I never asked you to help me, piece of trash Deku,” he grits out. “I didn’t need your help. Got it? In fact, I saved myself. You didn’t do a goddamn thing! So, don’t expect me to owe you or some shit. You seriously piss me the hell off. Stay out of my life from now on and mind your fucking business.”
Neither you nor Izuku say anything in response. A rational-minded person would have said ‘thanks’, or even, ‘I really appreciated what you tried to do.’ But Katsuki is just too stuck in his ways. He's determined to always make things out to be negative. He refuses to ever acknowledge that even he needs help sometimes.
Katsuki’s lack of gratitude just makes Izuku’s sacrifice that much more noble, because you know for a fact he didn't expect anything in return.
“You really are amazing, Izuku.” You smile gently, reaching down to grab his hand again. “I mean, the fact that you tried to save Katsuki without even thinking twice about it, even after he hurt you earlier today and said all those horrible things. That’s exactly why I know you’ll become a hero. Most people wouldn’t have been able to save someone who’d bullied them for so many years.”
Izuku stares down at your hand and admires the way your fingers are interlocked with his. Unless you're imagining it, he looks like he's feeling a bit better now. At the very least, his expression isn't hollow and lifeless anymore. Perhaps he's just relieved that Katsuki is safe, or maybe he feels a small sense of pride over his heroic feat earlier. You have no way of knowing for sure.
The two of you walk in silence, and neither of you seems willing to let go of the other’s hand. Izuku still can't forget All Might’s words from earlier, and even though he tried to help his former friend, he knows that still isn't enough for him to become a hero. He realizes now that without a Quirk, it's nothing but a baseless dream.
Still, he's comforted by the fact that you think he's amazing. Maybe he can strive to become a police officer, like All Might suggested. He can still save people that way, and as long as you are by his side, then...
Perhaps that alone is enough.
Of course, you are none the wiser as to what thoughts are going through Izuku’s head. You don't know just how much he's fixating on you and placing you on a pedestal, unintentionally relying on you as his sole source of motivation and happiness. It's never a good thing for any one person to depend wholly on another, and if not for All Might’s sudden appearance, Izuku might have fallen further into his obsessive thoughts.
“All Might?!” Izuku cries out. “But... what are you doing here? I could’ve sworn you were surrounded by reporters back there...”
“I gave them the slip,” All Might chuckles. “I’m still the Number One hero, you know. More importantly, I had some things I wanted to say. Or rather, some corrections regarding what I said earlier.”
You cock a brow, and Izuku can't help but do the same. Well, he’s come all this way for a reason, so you suppose you have no choice but to hear him out. You just hope he won't say more depressing stuff that would completely crush Izuku’s soul.
However, much to your surprise, All Might doubles back and basically retracts his previous words. He admits to being inspired by Izuku’s courage and willingness to help save his friend, despite being Quirkless. Unlike before, All Might has nothing but praise for him. He apologizes for having dismissed him so quickly and recognizes that Quirk or not, Izuku has the heart of a hero.
“You can become a hero.”
They're the same words you've repeated to Izuku for the past ten years, but hearing them from a hero like All Might is understandably more impactful. Izuku is so moved that he can't help but crumple to his knees, and even though he was already crying, this time, they are happy tears.
You wrap your arms around him. Overwhelmed by emotion, it doesn't take long for you to start crying too.
You would be lying if you said you expected to hear from him again today. After all, you didn't exactly leave things off on a good note. But you are a forgiving person by nature, and again, you can't find it in you to completely resent Katsuki, even after all the scummy things he’s already done.
Perhaps you shouldn’t keep giving him more chances, but you do it anyways.
It's very much like him not explain anything and stick to his stubbornness. Honestly, though, in light of recent news, you're in a really good mood. You thought for sure that today would suck all the way until the end, but it had actually been rather incredible.
All Might has chosen Izuku as his successor, and he is going to pass his Quirk onto him.
Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you heard him utter those words. You thought he was making things up just to screw with the both of you. But no, apparently All Might’s Quirk—One for All—is the type of Quirk that can be passed down from one person to the next. Izuku is going to have to train his butt off to get stronger, but if he succeeds, then he'll have a Quirk waiting for him.
He isn't going to be Quirkless anymore, and the thought makes you so happy that you can hardly stop grinning.
“What’s with that stupid look on your face?” Katsuki snaps. He's obviously peeved by how chipper you are, but unfortunately, you can't tell him why. All Might has sworn both you and Izuku to secrecy. One for All is purely confidential, and you aren't allowed to tell anyone, not even your own parents.
Still, you physically can't wipe your smile off your face. Things are finally looking up for Izuku, and it's impossible to contain your excitement.
“I watched a funny show earlier,” you brush off. “I can’t stop thinking about it. Anyways, what’s up? Why’d you call me out here?”
For some reason, Katsuki glances away, unwilling to look you in the eye.
“Deku didn’t save me,” he finally mutters. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t get any stupid ideas.”
“Huh? Are you still on about that?”
You blink repeatedly. He really is ridiculous. When is he going to realize that he's way too fixated on Izuku? It isn't healthy. Izuku is perfectly content to just do his own thing and be nice to everyone. Katsuki's the one who keeps going out of his way to harass him for no reason. Back when he was younger, he always used to say that Izuku was obsessed with him, but it's so clearly the other way around.
Still, you're in a really good mood right now, and you refuse to let Katsuki put a damper on it.
“Okay, Katsuki.” You nod patiently and smile. “Izuku didn’t save you, it’s true. All Might was the one who saved you. Izuku was worried about you, because you know that’s just how he is. He worries about everyone. But I know he isn’t the one who defeated the slime villain or anything, so can we please just put this past us?”
Katsuki clenches his fists. “And I’m saying that he had no reason to worry about me, because I was just fucking fine! All he ever does is look down on me. It’s like he thinks I’m this weak-ass bitch, and he’s so much better than I am.”
“No,” you frown. “Like I said, he worries about everyone, not just you. You’re not the exception, Katsuki. Some people tend to worry more than others. That’s just the kind of person he is. Just because you’re strong doesn’t mean people can’t worry about you. I don’t get why you think it’s such a bad thing. It shows that they care. It means that they value you. It doesn’t mean they think you’re below them.”
“I don’t need anyone to worry about me—least of all a Quirkless weakling like him,” he spits.
You really don't know what else to say. You're always running in circles with this guy. He's just too tied up in his flawed way of thinking. He believes that any sort of concern directed his way is automatically some form of mockery. You wish you could help him think more clearly, but you just don't know how.
“I care about you, Katsuki. I care about you, and that means I worry too. Even though I know you’re so much stronger than I am. Don’t you see that it’s not about being strong or weak? I care about you because you’re important to me. It’s just that simple.”
For just a moment, Katsuki’s eyes widen, and he looks like he's finally starting to understand.
He raises your hopes, only to immediately dash them.
“I’m important to you,” he swallows. He's thankful for the dark of night, otherwise you would’ve noticed that he's blushing right now. “You mean that, right?”
“Of course I do,” you nod. “I’ve known you for so long. You’re still my friend.”
Katsuki just stares at you, and there's something weirdly ominous about the way he does it, without so much as blinking once.
“If I’m so important to you, then tell Deku you never want to see him again.”
“What?”
You can't help the gasp that leaves your lips. Seriously, what in the world is he on about now? There's no way you're ever going to do something like that. He's acting crazy.
“You know that’s never going to happen,” you grimace. “Just stop it, Katsuki. If that’s your idea of a joke, it really isn’t funny.”
Katsuki’s eyes are completely wide. “Who said I was joking? You’re the one who started running your mouth about how important I am to you and all that shit. So, I’m calling your bluff. If I was actually important to you, then you would cut that shitty nerd out of your life, because you know just how much he gets under my skin. Unless you’re saying he’s more important to you than I am.”
Before you can even muster up a response, Katsuki has already stepped closer to you. He grabs you by the hand, except unlike whenever you hold Izuku’s hand, this sensation is far from pleasant. Actually, it even borders on painful, because of how hard he keeps squeezing your fingers.
It hurts, and quite frankly, he's freaking you out.
“There’s no way you think that fucking loser is better than me... right?” Katsuki insists. He refuses to let go of your hand, despite the fact that you keep trying to shake him off. Everything about him right now, from the tone of his voice to that unsettling look in his eyes, just reeks of desperation. He only ever seems to get this desperate whenever Izuku is involved.
That's what you believe, however, the reality is slightly different.
You and Izuku together—that is what makes Katsuki’s blood boil like no other.
“Katsuki, I don’t think either of you is better or worse,” you try to explain. By now, you’ve given up on trying to push him away or make him let go of your hand. You just hope that you can get him to calm down. “Please, can you just stop this? I really want all three of us to be friends again. I hate how things turned out.”
Perhaps one day, in the distant future, the situation would improve. But if you asked Katsuki right now, he would rather die than ever make amends with that shitty freckled nerd. He hates Izuku with every fiber of his being, and not only because he's Quirkless.
Because he's stolen you from him.
“You don’t give a fuck about me,” Katsuki chuckles dryly. “I doubt you ever did. Deku was the one you always made googly eyes at. Stop pretending like you want anything to do with me. That kind of fake shit makes me sick to my goddamn stomach.”
You try to protest, but he's already walking away. He steps inside his house and slams the door shut, not even bothering to glance back in your direction.
Katsuki is gone, and you are left outside in the cold, completely alone. You raise your head and look up at the sky. It's so endlessly vast and dark. Not a single star is in sight. You know that they're out there, somewhere, hidden behind a black veil, but since you can't actually see them, it does little to comfort you.
Whatever happiness you felt earlier was clearly destined to be short-lived. The day has ended on an awful note after all.
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what would the TCE boys be like with a darling who's super self conscious about her body? like maybe they try to have sex with her but the whole time she's trying to cover herself up so they can't see her or smth
[Do I have to crank out the Main Character speech again? Because I fucking will anon. This is a threat.]
You cover yourself during sex
Morell doesn't get it. He doesn't get what it's like to be inscure. Yeah, he doesn't think he's the hottest shit out there, but he's never had real problems with his own body either, so he's not sure where yours come from. And he's not truly the best at explaining how gorgeous you are to him, he just lets you know how much you make him want you and hopes that it clicks one day. There's no one else he'd rather lie in bed with, he's seen you butt-ass naked woman, and the only thing that gave him was a massive boner.
Gallon hopes that you're not getting the wrong idea when he gifts you fancy dresses and bright accessories that stand out. He's not trying to "fix you" or make up for any sort of "ugliness", he does it because he already thinks you're ethereal. The slime physically won't let you cover yourself, rest assured he'll wriggle between your limbs and keep you aaall open while he fucks you, and the barkeep will continue to do so until you learn there's nothing about you that'll turn him off.
Patches gets it. He does, really. Sometimes he doesn't like taking everything off, and ironically, he's always wondered if his body was good enough for you- But seeing you try to cover yourself as if he's about to laugh and leave otherwise makes his stomach sink. Don't. He'll let you cover your face because he knows what it's like to be shy, but he's going to touch every part of you, not matter how hot his own face burns.
Santi is utterly disheartened, it's a shame how so many people can't find sex comfortable in their own bodies, seeing you exhibit that same fear is extremely heartbreaking. He'll stop whatever's happening to blanket over you and press his lips to your ear, whispering about the way you make him burn up hotter than any ring in Hell and about how he needs to see you whole, he needs to see everything, he needs to worship everything and you're teasing him so hard right now.
Grimbly didn't expect that. Your bravado just sort of died... Is that why you never take your clothes off with him? He thought you just didn't want to take it that far with him. As materialistic and appearance-obsessed as Grimbly is, he needs you to know he'd sooner kill whoever put that fear into your head than let you think he's going to leave his Mommy. Ever. He doesn't say this a lot... But you make him feel so comfortable in his skin, and he wants the same for you.
Nebul finds this adorable. But no one gave you permission to cover yourself. Obey him, keep your body unobstructed and let him observe for as long as he wants, don't dare speak. While you're there trembling with fear of rejection, he's circling you and touching random parts of you. At some point, he puts your head to his thigh, dangerously close to a shape straining his robes, as he tells you you're going to have to fix what your perverted body did to him.
Vinnel understands too. He doesn't like his body. In fact, his husk is useless, he fucking loathes it. But by no means is he transparent with his empathy. He'll force you against a mirror and do all number of filthy things to your body, all the while mocking you for trying to hide it from him. You're ridiculous. Are you going to cry? Are you? Good, do it. Just give him an unobstructed view, poppet.
Belo literally will never comprehend it. You're the most supremely elegant being in his eyes. If there ever was a being whose form could lead anyone into the rabbit hole of depravity, it would be you- Not that it's your fault! No no, you are simply too perfect. He's got no business telling you how to show yourself to him, but Belo will try to gently pry your limbs away so he can sink to his knees and beg to rub his undeserving, lecherous hands all over your body. He can't take it anymore.
Fank-e doesn't get it either. What's wrong with your body? No really, what's the damage? Hey, you see him running around full of stickers and with a cracked head, what are you being all cute about? Do you think he finds organics gross? Come on, he's been hard for you for a while now... He'll try to joke and poke around until you laugh and get more comfortable.
Sybastian thinks it's dumb. You know he's seen every inch of you before, right? You know he's tried to put his tongue everywhere on/in you, what makes you think he's going to be put off now? Have you seen him? Sybastian admits he's freaky-looking, are you seriously telling him you're worried he's going to skip on this?? He looks at you like you're a bit dim, but it's a look full of fondness too.
Krulu finds your demeanor insulting. He has picked you, selected you as a lesser, and you dare question his taste? You are presumptuous enough to assume he's wrong in his conviction? You don't even know how offensive you are, do you? Drop your hands from your front immediately and apologize to him. While doing so, make sure to stare him in the eyes and spread yourself on his altar.
#Morell oc#Gallon oc#Santi oc#Grimbly oc#Patches oc#Nebul oc#Fank-e oc#Vinnel oc#Belo oc#Sybastian oc#Krulu oc
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untitled story about embarrassing consequences
Her stomach clenches and she desperately holds her mouth shut, hands clamped tight over her thin surgical mask. Some of the other passengers glance at her; she's breaking public transit's unspoken agreement, drawing attention to herself. It's fucking embarrassing. It's really not helping.
The vomit, when it finally comes bubbling up, is a thousand gooey pearls. They collect in the space between her lips and the mask, spurting out around its edges each time her throat spasms, thick slime insinuating its way through the mask's fibers to stain her hands with filth. Her stomach is tight and insistent; her thighs ache.
Someone starts to say something as the train screeches into a station—she doesn't know which one, it doesn't matter—and disgusted laughter chases her out into the humid summer night. Another spasm hits her before she can get off the platform, and she falls to her knees, her hands braced against the filthy concrete. Her entire body shakes as it rejects its contents; she doesn't hear the train doors close, but she can feel the remaining passengers' eyes on her as it departs.
She really hopes that they can't see how hard she is.
She'd had to yell over the music to be heard, but somehow the low, breathy voice answering her managed to slide directly into her mind—and her nervous system—completely unimpeded. She was six drinks in, a golden haze settling across her thoughts, so this didn't strike her as unusual. Even if she'd been sober she would have overlooked quite a few abnormalities for the attention of the gorgeous woman sitting next to her, matching her drink for drink.
"Melissa, lissa," she rolls the word, "what a pretty name."
"Thanks! Picked it out myself."
"Mmm," her voice was almost wistful as she spoke, each word tugging at something deep inside Melissa. "In beauty's fairest pride / Summer expands her heart so wide / The Sun no more in clouds enshrined / Darts all her glories unconfined …"
"What's that?"
"Nothing, nothing," the woman stretched; Melissa's dilated eyes are anything but respectful. "Just feeling my years."
The bar was too noisy for an awkward silence to linger, too full of jostling, moving bodies, fragrant with sweat and perfume, too drenched with alcohol's golden hues. So Melissa took one last swig of her drink, slammed it down on the bar, and took her shot.
"So d'ya live near here?"
"Oh," a sparkling laugh, a hand on her thigh, "very near. Would you like to see?"
"Fuck yeah!"
The filth clings to Melissa as she stumbles to her feet, unwilling to let go of her. Hot and alive against the scrapes on her hands and knees, cold and slimy where it clings to her skirt's fringes and scatters in stray droplets across her blouse. Somehow it's managed to absolutely saturate her socks; probably her shoes will be a lost cause by the time the night is done. A long, damp walk home awaits her.
She spits. It doesn't help.
"… uh, miss? Are you okay?"
Some guy, the type her eyes skip over when she sees them. Unobjectionable. Dressed for the heat, which isn't a bad look for him at all. A student, maybe, even if he doesn't have the right air of unbroken optimism.
She glares at him. "The fuck do you want?"
"Uh, nothing, I just," he gestures with one hand, holding something. She squints: a plastic bottle, half-full of water. "Do you want some? To rinse your mouth, wash your hands, whatever. I don't need it, I'm just a block away from here."
She snatches it, almost drops it trying to get the lid off. The slime gets everywhere; she hopes he won't want it back after. She swirls, swishes, spits, repeats. Doesn't help much, not with the taste and not with the texture, but it's something. She pours the rest on her hands, and it doesn't help much there either.
He's still standing there, looking at her. "Thanks, yeah? Now fuck off."
"Uh. Do you need any help, to, like—"
"No." Her stomach growls; she tries not to wince. "Now fuck off."
He glances back at her as he leaves and she flips him off. Better to be a bitch than risk him noticing anything more than he already has.
The woman's place really was very near indeed.
Melissa pauses to retch every few blocks, standing in the darkness between cold puddles of streetlight. The spasms are further apart, less violent; it oozes up to coat her teeth and pool on her tongue, a far cry from the overwhelming spurts before. Alone, with nothing else to focus on, the taste fills her mind; sharp yellow bile and gym-sock ammonia, a meaty sweetness dancing over it all.
She hasn't yet dared to pop one of the pearls between her teeth. Every possibility is distressing.
Each step leaves a slimy trail behind her. It's almost like her shoes are getting wetter the further she goes, their dense slimy coat picking up dirt and trash and twigs. It will be a miracle if she can get them clean. She liked those shoes, too.
The slime gets on everything she touches, too. Her skirt is definitely ruined, with how she's been kneading it between her hands, trying to keep it pulled down, perfectly flat. Thank god there's no one out here to notice.
Her underwear is ruined too, for an entirely different but no less irritating reason.
It was hard to think with the woman's voice humming through her body. The room was spinning and Melissa was spinning with it, long slow revolutions, and the woman was everywhere she looked, her body running like hot wax. She was all over the cheap twin bed, chest heaving, eyes inviting; on the wall her legs curled and spread, the space between her thighs split again and again, a dense river delta ushering Melissa's eyes up towards dew-speckled curls. She was the floor, the dresser, the air in Melissa's lungs; her hands were on her, wrapped around her, inside her, slick and demanding—
"Another drink, dear?", she'd asked when they stumbled inside, already mid-kiss. Her hands were already starting to tease apart Melissa's clothing, unbuttoning her blouse and tugging at her skirt, pushing up her sports bra to tug at the budding flesh beneath.
"Sure," Melissa answered, cocky, grinding against the woman's thigh, "why not?"
Her hands were too busy kneading the woman's ass to take the can, loving the way the hot flesh spread and split under her touch, so she made space between their lips to pour lukewarm beer directly into Melissa's mouth.
"Wha—", she sputtered, "fuck, warn me first!"
The next splash mostly missed her lips, ran down her cheek and dripped onto her half-open blouse, her nose full of its acrid, hoppy scent. The woman laughed, not unkindly. "Aww, but you're cute when you're startled! Besides," she grinned, "now I get to lick you clean."
Melissa is not the first to admit that she's a bad navigator. Several of her exes have made this point to her, often while trying to find their way out of an unpaved back-roads detour or a labyrinthine network of alleys that absolutely would not be permitted to exist in a sane city. Even so, following the train tracks seemed like a good idea—they run right down the middle of the street, and her home was only, what, five stops away? A few miles. Easy. Just walk in a straight line.
Getting lost would be profoundly embarrassing.
So, obviously, Melissa is lost.
She must have gotten turned around one of the times she paused in the dark, walked down a side street instead of right ahead. A stupid, embarrassing mistake to make, but she's distracted by pointedly not thinking about what happened a few nights ago. It was just another drunken hookup. A good one, sure, maybe even, now she has hindsight on her side, a profoundly weird one, but just that.
And whatever stomach bug she's dealing with can't be related. It doesn't even taste like the woman's come.
Never got her name, did I?, Melissa thinks. Not even her number. Damn.
Memories swirl across her skin. Soft, slick fingers, wet mouths, something pressing into her, stretching her, feeling the woman's heartbeat through her entire body. She'd been unable to move by the end, held aloft, wrapped in those tight, soft arms—
She shakes herself, flinging the phantom sensations off into the darkness, and abruptly realizes exactly where she is.
She'd been an absolute mess the morning after. Woke up to find herself wet and sticky all over, reeking of sweat and musk, sprawled out on a sheet mottled with stains both old and fresh. The room smelled like stale sex, she was leaking cum, and her stomach felt swollen.
When she'd finally stumbled out of the bedroom, naked except for her rapidly staining underwear, the woman was reading in a small dining nook, a bowl of oatmeal cooling in front of her. Her smile was more like a leer; Melissa could see the way her eyes crawled over her body, and where they lingered.
"Good morning, 'lissa. Want some breakfast?"
"Morning. Uh, where's your bathroom?"
"Door on your right." Her nose twitched. "Feel free to shower, I suppose."
"Yeah, thanks. Sorry about, uh."
"The mess? Don't worry, dear, it's entirely my fault. It's so nice not to have to control myself, you know?"
Melissa grumbled something noncommittal on her way to the bathroom. The hot shower didn't solve all of her problems, but for a few moments it seemed to come close.
It got late while Melissa was walking. Later than it should be, really, even on a Tuesday. The bar—not quite her neighborhood bar, but close enough to be her usual haunt—is already closed for the night, not that she'd have gone inside if it was open. Its shuttered windows and the warm lanterns dangling on either side of its door are just a landmark, a pin pressed into her map to hold its shifting lies in place.
So. Either she walks a mile to get home, or …
Or …
She blushes as she considers the other possibility. Showing up at a hookup's door on a Tuesday night, looking as fucked up as she does, with whatever is going on with her stomach …
It would be rude. It would be intolerably embarrassing. She's not that down bad, no matter how good the sex was, and even if she was she'd
No.
She'll walk straight home, and hope she has enough energy left to get clean before she passes out.
After the shower, a long time sitting hunched on the toilet, and a cup of the strongest coffee Melissa had ever tasted, she found herself lingering by the door, as dressed and ready to go as she seemed likely to get, putting off her walk home.
"So. What are you, anyway?"
It wasn't the best question. It wasn't even really the one Melissa wanted to ask, just the one that shoved to the front of her mind as she was opening her mouth; embarrassing, even if the woman's startled expression and burst of laughter tugged at something inside her chest.
"… uh. Sorry?"
"No, no, it's just been quite a while since anyone last dared to ask. I slept too long, I suppose."
"… uh," she said, tilting her head and starting to wonder if she was being wound up, "what?"
"Mmm. How about this, dear 'lissa; I'll tell you if you find me again."
"Yeah? That'll be easy," she waved her phone, "got GPS and everything on here."
The woman's warm laughter followed Melissa out the door.
Melissa's 90% sure she has the right door. It's an old-looking one, decorated with elaborate carvings, utterly out of place on the matte-white, newly-gentrified cube that she's pretty sure the woman lived in. 70% sure, minimum.
She's down to 50-50 by the time the light inside flicks on and the woman opens the door, resplendent in an old t-shirt that reaches down just far enough to leave it obvious that it's the only thing she's wearing. She yawns, mouth demurely covered, as she blinks at Melissa.
"Who is … oh! 'lissa, isn't it?" A smile tugs at her lips. "I wondered if you'd …"
She trails off as Melissa steps into the light proper; she'd been lurking at the edge of it, ready to flee if she'd picked the wrong door. Her eyes flicker over the disheveled woman; the iridescent stains all over her clothing, the little pearly beads clinging to her hands, the squishy mess of her shoes, the erection tenting her skirt. Concern and confusion flicker across her face; her lips purse, her shoulders slump.
"Oh. … oh! I forgot to wear a condom, didn't I."
"What, you have some weird STI I should know about?"
"No, nothing like that, just, uh. I should make sure none of them have implanted, dear, I don't think you're ready for that."
"… WHAT?!"
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Your moirail likes to touch you.
It's another symptom of his damage, really, all the pitiful, cracked bullshit about him wrapped up in the needy, hungry way he strokes your hair or your horns or takes daring, glancing reach-arounds to brush a hand over your back. Trolls are tough as chitin and claws, and you don't give a shit about your aberrant mutant blood, you're a troll through and through.
You shouldn't like to be touched. You don't.
But Gamzee does. And you, for some godforsaken reason, are infected with some kind of disease that makes you tolerate him.
It's cold tonight, and you can tell as soon as you wake up because Gamzee's curled around you like a grub, face buried in the back of your neck and hands rubbing absently up and down your belly. You have the slime set pretty warm, but not warm enough, apparently. When you move to get untangled, Gamzee grumbles and groans and reels you in even harder, nuzzling behind your ear.
You're a troll, you don't care about being touched. But you also can't get away. So you settle, and grumpily let him pet sleepily at your face, your chest, your neck. The slight, rough scrape of the pads on his palms and then the prickling, controlled threat of his claws.
You don't need to be touched. You don't need anybody for anything. A troll is an island. A troll doesn't give a shit. A troll doesn't get frustrated and irritable if they have to go a few weeks without their moirail touching them, so you don't. You don't.
You don't realize you're purring until he starts purring too. The tips of his claws trail across the curve of your thoracic cage, prickle and knead at you like you're some kind of wriggler comfort object, and you try to choke down the rusty rumble in your thorax and can't make it happen.
Gamzee mumbles, "Best friend, beats every miracle on the sand, sea and sky how sweet you turn for me touching you," and curls around you a little tighter, bites harmlessly at the side of your neck and the nape, where the hair trails off down your posture column. For a second all of his claws and his fangs press just hard enough to catch you still, breath hitching--then his palms smooth past the place his claws pricked at you, and he nuzzles his bare cheek against the mark of his teeth, and you're purring even louder, melting into warm, stupid shivers.
You understand what he actually said a second later, and are immediately, breathlessly indignant.
"I'm, you, fuck you," you retort, which is far from your best work, but in your defense your moirail is a soft embarrassment of a troll and he won't stop touching you, bundling you up into the curve of his freakishly long body, petting the line of one of your thighs, kneading a tense muscle there, going back to rubbing the place your purr hums at the base of your thoracic cage. "I'm humoring you, dipshit, because apparently you fucked up too many cartwheels when you were a wriggler and sloshed most of your panmatter out of your ears."
Gamzee gives a rattling, huffing chirr of amusement, melting into an actual laugh when you growl at him. "If you say so, brother," he says, soothed amiable, and nips at the back of your neck again, where he's definitely going to leave a really obvious mark for all of your chucklefuck hatefriends to hoot about.
"You're embarrassing both of us."
"Aww, motherfucker, that right?"
"You're-- It's not a-- What do you fucking think I am, some kind of--of touch-dependent mammal, huddling in its shitty brood-den with all its wriggling, hairless birth-pupas--"
Gamzee's snickering at you again. "I bet mammals don't purr so nice, best friend."
"Fuck you," you say again, with feeling, and twist half-heartedly at his grip again. He clicks his fangs, a disappointed little noise, and just holds you tighter, tight enough it aches just a little. Tight like it doesn't matter what you are or what you want, or what you don't want to want. He's not letting you go.
You don't like it. You don't, you don't, you don't. A good troll wouldn't. You don't.
He's mumbling some kind of highblood benediction into your hair, some nightmarish honking thing about being anointed in the wicked elixir and the stardust in your eyes. But his claws come to your face, a huge, cool frond wrapped all the way around to cup your cheek, and when his thumbclaw rests on your lip it's just heavy enough to shut you the fuck up, just light enough you know he's not going to hurt you. Just threatening enough to send a thrilling pale shiver through your palms and down your spine, and safe like you can only be like this.
"Little motherfucker gets so fucking hungry for it when he's lonely," Gamzee murmurs, and presses a little harder when you try to open your mouth to argue. "Nah-ah-ah, best friend, shoosh. Shhhh. You're so motherfucking warm, and look at you all soft all over, like clouds or some shit... Lemme all get my feel on. Get a good motherfucking grab-around at you going."
You bite his finger in revenge, a whole lot gentler than you could considering how tough highblood skin is. He laughs at you and then moves all in a rush, pins you into a tight little ball with your arms at your sides and your knees to your chest and dunks you in the sopor, bringing you up growling and squirming.
"What the fuck was that for?!"
"Shooshing," he says, and pats your face again with a stupid-sounding splap-splap noise. "Rowdy little motherfucker's gotta chill the fuck down. And hey, check it out."
His hands find both of your horns, and he combs the sopor through your hair with delicate clawtips and then rubs the sopor at the roots of your horns, right where thin skin gives way to the slight velvet at the bases.
The cool pressure feels completely different combined with the humming, numb-sensitive tingle of sopor, and you're immediately rendered hopelessly, humiliatingly compliant. You melt like a frozen beverage block at high noon in the desert. You make a noise you would murder any of your enemies or friends for hearing. You croon like a pupa who just discovered cotton candy. You'll fucking savage him if he stops.
"...'S real motherfucking sweet how you like it," he says again, peacefully, and this time you feel way too damn good to make yourself argue.
#gamkar#miracrails#Level II Pale Event#i am thinking about a society where it's almost impossible to trust another person to touch you#and the concept that you might actually need touch to be healthy is not just unheard of but actively against the societal norms#i am thinking about how much of a relief it would then be to find a quadrant who's allowed to touch you and you're allowed to enjoy it#hmmmm >8Ic i am thinking#anyway I'm going back to bed first day of vacation 22-hour sleep time let's goooo
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i'm so in love with your slime!reader series, (yes, so is everyone else. but. i'm Different, okay? i'm not Like Those Other Girls) it is infecting my brian
anyways, accept my offering of kaveh brain rot juice
cw for: dubcon, i think this is sexual torture, overstim, unrealistic amounts of cum(?), milking, mindbreak, my debatable writing skills, and lowkey sadism on slime's part
arrest me. i just want to see that man cry. listen, he's just a little soggy bread crumb of a man and i think he deserves to be milked into unconsciousness.
so, one day, like any other, you see kaveh scribbling away at his drawing desk. and as usual, he's having some trouble getting the work done. a bright idea pops into your otherwise empty, slimy head- and helpful little you decides to provide your master with some good encouragement! sucking him off under the desk and denying him release until he finishes his work! totally fool proof.
kaveh gets his work done in record time. is it good? doesn't matter, the only thought running around in his silly little fucked out brain is cumming. and you give him just that. except, you don't stop there.
at this point, all the orgasms have just melted together into one, long, torturously good high. kaveh is sure everyone in the neighborhood has heard his screams of pleasure, but it's not like he's in a position to care. the way you squelch and convulse around his poor, overstimmed dick has him scratching grooves into his work desk. his eyes haven't been anything but white for... how long, now? and he's drooling onto his already tear and sweat stained papers, but how can he focus on anything but the way you're draining his balls right now?
eventually, you've had to start holding him up yourself- his legs gave out a long while ago- but that's fine, at least now you can hold his spasming thighs apart while you fuck open both of his holes, and he's no longer trying to stop you! only now able to babble and sob incoherently, too shaky and ruined to do anything but take it. you do miss his desperate begging, sure, but he's pretty cute like this as well~!
you have to commend this man's stamina; even after being milked for hours, he's still providing you with plenty of that delicious cum you so crave- and he hasn't passed out yet! at least, you think- it's hard to tell at this point.
kaveh makes a noise that's between a groan and a scream; hoarse and low and so utterly guttural when you suck around his abused cockhead, and he might be having a seizure with the way his body thrashes from the feeling, the way his mouth opens in a silent scream, and the way that all that comes out is a choking, broken moan. you think he's orgasming again. but at this point, he's just been leaking cum for you like a faucet.
it feels like an eternity later when you release kaveh, letting his shaking body slide to the ground. his cum and your weird slime fluids mixing and dripping down his thighs, into your body, and onto the floor. just closing his legs feels like too much stimulation. as he struggles to recover, his fingers digging into the cum stained wood, and kaveh can't help but whimper and cry so pathetically, only barely comprehensible in his pitching little whines.
but you got him to finish his work, de-stress, and catch up on some much needed sleep! very proud of yourself, you clean your master (and the floor) up as best as you can at the moment, and drag his limp body into bed, where you can lick up his tears as he clings onto you.
hm... you think you'll do this again.
omg!!!!! this was so hot? op drop your url pls do you have some fics i can binge on...
and imagine! no way can whiny kaveh hide those pretty moans of his, and especially not from his roommate! alhaitham just listening into his senior's whines and your noisy slime noises as you slam your length into kaveh's prostate ◑﹏◐ he's palming himself through his leaking underwear, dick all hard and stiff. he doesn't know who he envies more— you or kaveh.
#this was so hot op im serious abt the url#if you have a smut blog 😳 thennnn#genshin smut#nite.thirsts
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I'm finally where I belong
I'm a chef, a hiker, and a pagan. During my thirteen years as a chef, I've done and seen quite a lot of interesting things. In the time I've slogged it out in kitchens, I've always found myself returning to three things in my life: cooking, writing, and telling stories. I sufficed to say that the restaurant industry has given me a great deal of perspective on many, many things, quite a few of which I genuinely found to be superbly unexpected. In the immortal words of Ray Liotta in "Goodfellas", "All my life I wanted to be a gangster". From childhood to my early teen years my Saturday morning cartoons were replaced with cooking shows. "The Essence of Emeril", "Emeril Live", "Bobby Flay's Grillin and Chillin", "Molto Mario", "A Cook's Tour, and despite his current universal dragging by Uncle Roger "The Naked Chef with Jaime Oliver"
I genuinely give a lot of credit to my father, our bonding during my childhood was spent traveling across Queens where I currently live eating my way through every ethnic group to call Queens home. Those times exploring with my dad helped me come out of my shell and paved the way to becoming who I am today. A place my father and I regularly ate at was Rosa's Pizza in Maspeth, it was in this temple of Red Sauce Americana that exposed me to what would eventually evolve into my loving cooking. My Dad and I always and nearly without fail sat within the same three rows of booths and my culinary education as a New Yorker began. Whether you're a New Yorker for life or a transplant with a few years in the city we all accept a few simple truths, no matter how hard you try you can't get all the grease off of a regular slice, the corner slice of a Sicilian pie is the best piece (I defy you to tell me otherwise), and no matter what you do fountain soda from a pizzeria just hits different.
In Rosa's you had the regular crew slinging pies in the open kitchen, and if you were in the mood for something heavier you had the closed-off portion of the kitchen where one of my favorite people in the world cooked day in and day out. Pete was an older guy when I was a kid and he still made some of the best Italian-American food you could ever sink your teeth into, and eventually, he would become like a second grandfather to me. The days he was at work and my dad and I happened to be in we'd walk away with a free soda here, a free slice there and I remember he even comped a meal for us, which for the time was unheard of (and it's even more so now). Pete had this uncanny ability to always make you smile and I remember the day he changed my life forever. Pete walked out of the kitchen in his sauce-stained waist apron, salt and pepper hair, and that caterpillar mustache that was almost a pre-requisite if you were cooking in a pizzeria in the 90's
"Your dad tells me you want to be a cook?" I remember having a chunk of Sicilian dangling in my jaws, all I could do was nod like an idiot, I looked at my dad and he smiled knowingly. Pete took me into the kitchen where I saw three bowls and an eggplant cut into rounds. "Eggplant Parmesan, it's easy, I'm gonna show you how". Pete proceeded to show me how to pass the eggplant from flour to egg, to breadcrumb and how to put them into a deep fryer, I remember the sensory overload that making that food did for me. The slime of the egg, the powdery POOF the flour made when my eggplant hit the bowl and the crunch of breadcrumbs through my fingers, I even remember the squeal of delight and terror I let out as I saw produce deep fry for the first time. I'm not gonna lie, looking back on it now the thought of a nine-year-old kid rocketing food into a deep fryer gives me all kinds of anxiety, Pete showed me how to assemble an eggplant parm step by step with the most patience I've ever been shown in a kitchen and when all was said and done he laid a takeout container in front of me, It was my eggplant parm that I made and ya know what? It was fucking delicious.
My Dad and I would take a nearly five-month break from visiting Rosa's and when we came back, I remember something felt off. The giant dining room somehow seemed bigger, the shine I always remembered gleaming off the tables seemed to dull somehow. My dad ordered for us our usual and we took to our usual booth. I remember saying to my dad "I wonder if Pete's working". Looking back on it now, I should have realized something was amiss when my Dad's absent gaze locked on me "He died..a few days ago", I remember finishing that slice of pizza with a tear in my eye understanding the importance that love had on cooking. Pete was gone, and it felt as though the love had gone from that restaurant.
Pete's lived in my memory now for twenty-six years. A sadness admittedly enters my mind, I mourn the fact that Pete showed me what I was meant to become, I mourn the fact that I couldn't return to show him what I've learned. I said to myself when I began a writing effort, to putting my thoughts, and opinions on food, where I started would be important, and despite the fact, I would gain an Idol who left a permanent mark on my soul, It all comes back to Pete, and though he's gone I'm still a chef because of him, I'd raise a toast to you Pete, thank you for giving a fat little nine-year-old the realization he had a place in the world. I thank you for instilling in me a sense of pride in my work and working with my hands. Grazie Pietro, se non fossi entrato nella mia vita. Non so la direzione che avrebbe presso.
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And we finished the track! That was a very hard TnT board, but fun. And you can make a lot of money off of it. You also get a unique monster companion for winning which is neat. I took a little more time to play around with save states to figure out what's going on under the hood with this minigame. Because I've played it enough to be curious and watching stuff about RPG speedruns taught me some things to look for/try.
TnT does have a little more sophisticated RNG than just rolling a random die. If you've seen much RPG speedrun stuff you probably know about RPG manipulation. What that means in practical terms is like...it's pointless to make a save state before you roll to try and guarantee a certain result. Computers can't be truly random so there's a string of numbers already generated for when we need a random variable. This is how the DQ1 speedrun works. They memorize the exact moves to guarantee minimal encounters, metal slimes they'll get a crit for, etc. Main point here though is it doesn't matter how many times you reload that save state, you'll always get the same results. Likewise with like, the two dice rolled to set your time in the Treasure Trove. That's set when you go into the room. Without a way to advance the RNG you're set in place.
Get in a battle though? Then you can do it. Save state at the start of the battle, then do different things to take more/fewer turns. That'll change the results on subsequent rolls. You'd really have to know the code to know exactly how to get what you want, but it's not hard to brute force if you organically hit a battle square within 1-2 rolls of the finish line. I kinda just want to play with this more here and there, because it fascinates me.
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Feeling a little apprehensive and burnt-out creatively, so I might need to ask for advice.
How do you guys deal with exhaustion and apprehension regarding your writing & gushing blorbo facts? Like, sharing fandoms with friends and seeing all their writing and OCs and feeling like my own are boring & insignificant in comparison. I used to have a lot more passion with my OCs, but I just can't shake that gunk off no matter what I do.
Especially since, no matter how hard I try, I inherently place too much value in what other people think of me. I CAN'T write just for myself, & I'm not sure if I ever have been able to. I want people to see and like my stuff, but how can I like my stuff when I know that it's a lot shoddier than everyone else's?
Is this envy? Imposter syndrome? Anxiety? Burnout from constant rejection from past friends & unintended projection onto people whom my left brain KNOWS won't ever treat me like that? Probably all of the above.
But it's hard to get out of that headspace where everything you touch is just coated in grease & all your thoughts are pure slime no matter how much you sop it up.
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Hello! I wanna know what is the most annoying thing about your boyfriends? For Striker and Asmodeus~
"Well then! I'm not gonna say I like ranting about my darlins, far from it but I do hear theres always something that's gonna drive you crazy, so I don't mind saying it, and since I got two, one for each I say."
Robo I suppose is the one who gets on my nerves the most, love him to death but still, but in terms of one thing I find truly annoying no matter the mood Im in is his clothes bleeding the colors into one of mine, thankfully doesn't happen with my shirt of vest but it happens with other stuff like my pants, jacket and undergarments, did get one pair of hot pink trousers out of it though, which felt good to wear for Pride but still, can't deny it does annoy me deeply more often then not, sometimes I think he does it on purpose...
With Chazwick, contrary to what you might expect, it's not his constant dirty talk and libido, even if I have had to shut his mouth when I need to focus on something. No, it is instead HIS CONSTANT AND EXTENSIVE OCCUPATION OF THE DAMN BATHROOM!!! The shark will take an hour or more in there constantly, just getting ready for whatever, even if we're spending the day inside, and then there his hair gel sliming up the counter or clogging the sink, He pulls off the look he puts on, no doubt about it, I just wished it didn't incovenince as much as it did, glad we got him a vanity so it's not AS common but satan be damned..."
"Sounds like love to me! I do enjoy hearing you talk about them, my offer for the move is still open by the way if you do need more space!"
"Hush ya overly big cxck, talk about yer clown already..."
"Ah yes! Well I don't have many problems with Fizz, I'd call him an Angel if they were actually decent. But like all relationships, there's pet peeves, but... Honestly my biggest gripe is a bit more serious.
I cannot describe how much I worry for him, and it's all because my Fizz, could not hold back or think things through fully to save his life. Even if I met three of my best employees because of one of those times doesn't change it makes me worry.
He's stubborn, more then even myself and is a hard sell on nearly anything you try to convince him of if he thinks differently, even if it's something clear or even something that would make him feel better, and when he puts his mind to something he barely ever will back out even if it'd be for the best.
Or the fact I had to ward the kitchen appliances against him so the penthouse won't explode in the middle of the night, either or I suppose"
#~gold. grins. and grit~ [striker]#~feather soft flames~ [ozzie]#~frolicking feathered fun~ [ozzie x fizz]#//why the hell have I not made a ship tag for Striker Chaz and Robo? XD#ask reply#had a lot of fun with this one to be fair#thought it was cute ^^
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Meeting a New Friend (2/2)
Meanwhile at another part of Mementos a young monster wrangler with silver hair and pointed ears is wandering the grim halls
DQ:HELLO!!!....ROSE!!!....DUFFER!!!...EILEEN!!!....DEVLIN!!!... nothing this is bad, not only am I lost * looks into bag* all my monsters except for Slime are gone and that creature that attcked me earlier it wasn't a monster because I could actually fight it, hmmm father's curse won't allow me to fight monsters so... what did I fight?
No that doesn't matter right now, all that matters is finding the rest of my team, which according to the HeliPad one should be futher down.
With the Thieves
Panther: So ahh... which is giving the strongest feeling at the moment.
Joker: Not sure all the pathways are feeling about the same, the aura stopped flaring awhile ago.
Skull: Man this effin' sucks, we had a good idea where that aura was comin' from now we can't tell which way it is anymore. Haaaa... hey Mona since your a cat you got a good nose right? Can you sniff out the aura of somethin'.
Mona: I NOT A CAT!!! What's so hard to understand about that and if we we're in a Palace maybe but Mementos is much trickier and beside's it's not like I'll randomly have the.... an....swer.... MMMMEEEOWWWW!!!! HHHIISSSSS!!! HHHIISSSS!!!
Skull: WHOA, WHAT THE HELL MONA!?!?!
Mona: BAD, BAD, BAD, A REAPER, A REAPER'S NEAR!!! ( Morgana told them before they went down into Mementos about the Reaper)
Arsene: Joker that strange aura just flared up again, and It's from the direction which the Reaper is, I fear that the Reaper may be trying to kill that aura.
Arsene's words where all that's needed for Joker and the gang to jump into action.
When they get there the Reaper is beating down horribly on DQ whose clutching a newly retrived magic capsule while using there claymore to block as many strikes as possible.
Decideding to ask questions later the group acts, Joker pulls of the Reapers mask in a surprise attack dazing it, Panther and Skull both fire off magic attacks to enhance the Reapers daze, and Mona throws some smoke bombs to give them cover. When the Reaper snaps out of it's daze, everyone is gone and the Reaper gives a horrifying scream at the loss of it's prey.
Everyone regroups at the entrance to Mementos where they question DQ and the wrangler tells them who they are and shows them there pointed ears and monsters Slime and Golem ( haven't thought of good names yet) to futher prove there story.
After the Explanation
DQ: That's my story... why are you all looking at me like that?
Joker/Skull/Panther: *Shock*
Mona: *Close to fainting*
Arsene: Well this just got interesting
-New Friend Aquired😊
Considering how many times I got lost in Mementos or barely dodged a Reaper jumpscare by the skin of my teeth while under level, this is so accurate. That Shadow also LOVES to target weaknesses for extra damage. I'm not surprised one bit about Mona going nuts if one is close by.
Arsène is having fun as he loves surprises. To him, it spices up the adventure. For monster nicknames, Gooey for Slime and Boulder for Golem. Simple but accurate.
#sonicasura#sonicasura answers#asks#foolmariofest#dragonquest#dragon quest iv#dragon quest monsters#dragon quest#dragon quest monsters the dark prince#dq#dqm the dark prince#dqm#dq4#psaro#persona#persona series#persona 5#persona 5 royal#p5#p5r
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It won't do what they want but they will have an effect and they'll see what it is and hear it and these guys can't keep their mouth shut and their losers. We do hear what they're planning and it's awful and people are going to get them and yeah that's 1% is evacuating this one out of 100 people but in the cities outskirts and suburbs and sometimes it's tons of them because there's people everywhere and their concentrated in those areas so it looks like a lot more people but yeah they're going to leave in just it's going to be continuously looking huge and they feel confident and more will be leaving tomorrow night right now we have a warning out we need people here immediately and it is to assist our son he has to try and rest tomorrow and he has nothing to really do maybe pay the credit card bill and I'd rather see him rest but he has to keep it hot tomorrow is an important day to do so yeah tomorrow's important it's a big day and it's a day that he should do that we also see he's having some issues with these Trump's about his body and some healing issues we're going to go after them and in a few moments we are going to start attacking and for real and we really have to they're messing with his ability to walk around and we can't have that. I'm going to say they threatened him in his life about 3,570,000 times plus or minus 100,000 and Hera 4,790,000 times plus or minus a couple hundred thousand it's a lot and that's the birth have been around and that's too many times and they're idiots they just keep doing it and doing it and we don't want people doing that so we're going after them hard and other people haven't done and killing them and yeah they leave and they scream and they're in horror but they're told not to and this guy has died about 550 times because of too many threats on the two and he has died partially 7,000 times because of it and he's itching for more right now nobody has died that many times without becoming stupid and nobody and that's what he is and people won't get rid of him but we will his presidency is falling apart already he's losing positions to his opposition and that's bja he's losing half to him and to the pseudo Empire about 20% and two miscellaneous 15% and 5% is going to people like will and Bill and Ken and Biden and 10% to the max and they're taking positions they hate these idiots but that's not that many but it's still it's important it's a portion of it. Is cheeseman as fast as he takes them he loses them. But he's going to be president not John remillard and he is going to kill him off before January 20th many many times until attack and until the takamak it has to do with Biden and BG and Stan and Stan was influenced to do it and was really out of line so people are wondering how that happens it's very simple it was n of course it was Joeot Biden I mean of course it was biting of course it was Joe Biden but it was Trump as Vader and he did it with a gross technique and Stan is horrified and it's necessary to say that he comes back and that's why he was kind of hanging around with bja and it is a matter of time before Trump gets it you're trying to get him to fight now and you're going to be the one doing stuff to people and dying and it's not because people aren't trying it's just their not getting ready for what he does and stopping him and it's your life at risk too and he is a sleaze ball and a slime and a murderer and needs to be disposed of right now would be nice if you get them out of here today was cocaine bear and he's back being an ass he said the bear is very heavy and who do I blame and it turns out to be the bear so he's going to go to Maine and we're going to post something and show you what happens
Thor Freya
Olympus
Zues Hera
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do you ever think about charlie losing his daughter and finally getting so close to healing. it's not perfect the world isn't perfect but maybe that's ok maybe all he has to do is focus on helping his nieces and his nephews and everything might be ok for a couple minutes. it's not his daughter and it never will be but maybe he could start logging on to hang out with tallulah and pomme more, after all he needs new flowers for his exile house and he can't beat mobs on his own he needs someone strong to protect him. or maybe he wants to talk with richarlyson more, get to know him and all his parents who have been nothing but kind to him. he doesn't think he deserves their love, but they seem to think he does. and maybe that's all that matters for a little while. every time he looks at any of the huevos he's just painfully reminded of his own, they all are so close to being her but with every little action they take that perfection just slips away a little bit and he notices how the eggs don't talk or act like her at all. but maybe at some point he stops caring. maybe he doesn't need them to be flippa but he knows they need him to be tio slime. so that's all he tries to be. charlie had tallulah and richarlyson show him around on his birthday and he thinks he's taking care of them but he knows deep down its the other way around. he is healing, nobody knows it yet but he is healing. he sees the love this island is filled with and for exactly one day of the year he can't escape it like he normally does. this little window exists only for one night and it fucking works. he is happy and laughing and smiling again, he is running around and picking the huevos up on his shoulder and using his new birthday presents all over again. the window of opportunity was open and love will always take full advantage of that, swarming and rushing him and knocking him off his feet, taking him downstream and throwing him with open arms into everyone else's.
and then do you ever think about how he took 2 steps forward and 10 steps back. he goes home to one final present and he is so happy and excited after the day he spent. maybe he's thinking of resting but going back out again soon, everyone might hate him but his niece and nephew need him there and want to be around him. they never got to meet him properly after all. he is confused and scared when it's time to follow the light, but maybe it doesn't matter as long as he gets to visit his huevos in the morning. he never used to call them that before. he walks down the tracks and makes it to the house, and everything he's worked so hard to get crumbles the second he sees his daughter for the first time. she's not perfect but he doesn't care, she types weird and calls him dad and doesn't quite jump or crouch the same way she used to but he couldn't care less. it didn't matter to him. as long as they were together again he'd be the happiest man on the fucking planet. even if it meant sitting down here in the cave and never leaving he didn't give a shit, it's not like anyone was waiting for him out there. he sat and he cried and he begged and finally something out there answered and she was back in his arms again, holding to him tightly as he pushed her hair out of the way to kiss her forehead like he used to. when she pushed away and left he chased, refusing to leave her again. he started swapping from just flippa to her full name, trying to get her to listen. she always used to listen. when she dissappears and he breaks down he swears to himself he will wait as long as it takes. he will sit there and wait for his daughter to come back home. he is blind to the puppeteer strings wrapped around him, pulled tight to hold him right where they want him. he can't go visit his friends kids anymore, he has one of his own he has to take care of. he's a good parent and a good parent will sit there and wait.
I fucking miss codeflippa dude
#i make yet anothet post just for me 👍#qsmp#if this makes any sense at all please tell me i feel fucking ill
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Gallon slitplay? 🥺 👉👈
Needing to crouch in front of him to grab something beneath the bar. While you're there you just plant a quick kiss on it. A minute later he's melting on the bar and you're tongue-deep in him.
[It's a sticky slit, for sure. Implied fem reader.]
TW: Choking; Soft elements of body horror(?); Short description of past violence.
You should know better than to play with fire.
Gallon is good at lulling someone into a false sense of security. And given his line of work, you shouldn't really be surprised by that. After all, grass is green, the sky is blue, and barmen are dirty weasels.
Yet still, the privileges you had been afforded ever since you started "behaving" kept you high. The slime is a materialistic man, you were dressed fancy everyday if he could help it, touched to perfection, like a caricature of glamor and dignity, in furs and feathers and pearls, all the sweet things he could get you to try on. And even if this isn't really how you used to dress on a daily basis, something in you has started to enjoy it, if only because he'll spare you these long, intense looks while he works. Full of promise, full of love. You're a beam of light to Gallon, or so he's told you, and there's nothing prettier than you smiling at him atop his balcony.
Some days however, you tend to get a little too confident in your own control of the situation, which Gallon both keenly perceives and allows. After all, you're easier to manage when you think you're in on top of things, and as long as your stunts are harmless, the slime is content to humor most of them. Most.
See, a teasing game has developed between the two of you lately. A days-long challenge in an effort to see who caves to the other faster, who begs for it, abstinence and teasing are key. You're no master of self-control, but neither is the slime. His poker face may be commendable, yet he has many tells, if you pay attention. Delight and titillation are presented via the curling of his noodle-like extremities, stress and irritation cause the monster's body to shift more regularly, darker spots morphing from side to side, dripping to and fro faster. Even that sort of pendulum above his head, which you can't decipher the purpose of beyond giving him a a silly look, it too tends to emote more than his face.
Point being, you know you get to him when you bend down, when you lean over the counter to fetch a glass for him, when you climb onto it to reach the ceiling rack and end up providing the monster a stupendous view of laced panties. The only thing you haven't tried thus far is to invite others into the game, something you've been seriously warned about before. Matter of fact, you'll never forget the sensation of his tentacle coiling over your arm hard enough to start cutting blood flow off, making the limb swell and fall asleep. You remember how hard you cried then, truly believing you were about to lose your arm for a silly stunt.
You know better now.
Thing is, you're cracking as well. With every display you make, Gallon's two steps ahead of you, all subtle insinuations and elegant rejections- Touches never more than featherlight. Patient, calculating. Either you pull another idea out or he ends up winning at this rate.
Oh, nothing can quite compare to the joy you feel when someone asks for a specific drink Gallon usually keeps behind the counter. There's always a series of commonly sought-after brands he has stock of at all times, kept at a tendril's length. All you'd have to do is reach down before he can, it's that simple. Your golden opportunity, yes.
" No no- I'll get that! "
Dashing forward quicker than the slime can move, which is not an easy feat, you start looking through the numberless bottles hidden away. Perfectionist, organized monster that Gallon is, he would be able to fetch this in a blink. But you, untrained and oblivious, feel like a donkey staring at a palace, the fancy calligraphy of each brand blending together in an ambiguous, sparkling mess. It's getting on the slime's nerves, if the way he scoots progressively closer is any indication.
" Cherry please, I have this under control- "
" Got it! " You interrupt, reaching for a dark, elegantly-shaped glass container. In a split second blur of movement, you turn, lean your head up, and plant a single kiss on a hidden slit.
Chaste but effective. Serves him right.
As if nothing transpired, you quickly rise and adjust your clothes. " Here you go, sir! " Said cheerfully towards the tiny white monster with gray gloves.
" Eh, thanks... " There's an odd look in his face, but you know he couldn't have seen what you did, the counter covered it all, plus he's so short. It's only when you turn to look at Gallon that you realize why he's got that expression, because the barman is looking at you with a blazing intensity. You can't even read that face, it's got to be some mixture of irritation and contemplation. A single bead of sweat runs down the side of your head while the pale monster takes his drink and hops off the stool, having sensed something amiss likely.
" That was a bold move. " The slime starts as soon as that little episode transpires, his knubby whiskers twitch while he idly reaches for the glass rack.
" Well someone has to keep you on your toes, right? "
It's a success, he's blushing, oh ever so slightly, but you can see it, and that's what matters. Having taken your victory and intending to savor it like a fine wine, the finest of any wines he could have hanging around in fact, you start to saunter away.
Until something coils around your neck.
" Hm? Where do you think you're going? "
" W- What? " Maybe you should have seen this coming.
" You've made a mess of my counter cabinets, you should fix it, no? "
Oh.
" W- Well I- " Maybe a witty answer would have come to you more easily if he wasn't radiating so much tension.
The tendril at your neck, not choking yet but certainly warning, slowly nudges you downward, you follow until you're couched back by the drinks, tossing your heels away because they're starting to hurt. Perhaps it was worth it, because you get to see the spot where you planted a kiss, stained with your vibrant lipstick.
Hah! Like a claim. The ones he's so eager to leave on your body. And just like that, all the confidence seeps back into your form.
" Oh dear, there's a smudge. " Lidded eyes glance up, catching his dominant attitude falter. " Let me clean my mess, pay no heed to me. "
Gripping those slippery thighs, you drag your tongue up the mark left on him, adding maybe a little more pressure than necessary, but hey- You have to take it off, don't you? Singular laps turn into messy nuzzling, the flat of your tongue claiming as much of that twitching slit as it can. It's always been extremely fascinating how his form molds naturally to you. You can't simply pet Gallon's shoulder without it seemingly clinging to you when you pull away. And yet, there's not a stain on his surroundings. He picks and chooses the consistency of his own body, yet apparently, there will always be sticky spots, like his holes, including the one you're playing with.
It's odd, you'll admit. The more you kiss and lick at him, the more his form fluctuates, strings of him stick to your lips and chin, it's almost funny. The slime's figure deforms ever so slightly, covering your fingers, swallowing them into his legs in an effort to keep you anchored to him. It might not be noticeable to others, but you can feel him shivering from time to time, the quietest of gasps flowing out while he handles new orders as best as he can.
A harsh suck against that entrance rips the first real noise out of the bartender, this lovely, surprised grunt while he bucks forward, a wet pap ringing out. Interesting. You repeat the motion, smiling as Gallon clearly bends over the counter from the sensation. " Hhn- Shit! "
It must have been minutes of you torturing the slime, just stealing saliva-soaked samples of him, before you actually reach for his insides, this shuddering moan coming from him as his entire form appears to ripple in satisfaction. You'd worry for his reputation, if not for the fact that this is already a shameless place. You've apparently teased the bartender long enough that the tentacle hidden away in that pouch is already poking around, eagerly feeling your tongue, grabbing, coiling around it as if to drag the wet muscle in further. Unfortunately, as a human, your poor tongue can only go so far.
This feels a lot like exceptionally messy French-kissing, with a peculiar taste. Gallon's flexible cock tries desperately to pull you in further so it can have more stimulus, and you respond by stroking your tongue around the ridges you can find, only ever pulling away to breathe deep and return before that appendage can get the bright idea to pop out. You're not sure who's blushing harder, the overheated slime, or your slightly air-deprived self, both locked in this mock-kiss while Gallon tries, so poorly, to pretend all is fine.
You can't help but moan when, instead of trying to pull you in, that tendril now seeks to shove your tongue back so it can get inside you instead, poking into the warmth of your mouth and steadily feeding more of itself forward.
" Fffuck, I'll cum like that Cherry. "
Well, that is the point. How else will you win?
The more he tries to slide down your throat, now using spare tendrils to keep your head in place, the more you have no choice but to choke and drool, apparently only arousing him more. You may not be able to see it, but Gallon is hardly holding up any better, having stopped working completely to slump on his own counter and attempt to hide his teary eye.
" What's the matter with you? " A new voice is heard, sounding particularly annoyed, a tenor you're familiar with. The angel. " Do you know how much harder it is to do my job when you're slacking off on-... Are you crying? "
Honestly, you're the one that's crying, even if a slime's cock is usually malleable, he's still using your throat none too gently, not even having to move his hips too much for that appendage to pound and writhe away.
Gallon muffles a whine with a weird cough. " ... No? " So convincing.
" ... Let me see your face. "
Oh, this is getting funny.
" Is there reall- Ah- No one else you can bother right now? "
There's a commotion, you're pretty sure the angel is reaching for Gallon. Some even nastier part of you takes over and you start bobbing in tandem with the slime's frantic motions, wanting to tip him over as hard and quickly as possible so that when Belo finally grabs his face, he'll get to see-
" Ohh ff- Hahh-! "
There. Making sure to rub him with your tongue, you let the barman snap his hips into your face, swallowing the first loads he has to give before pulling away, much to his audible displeasure, so the rest of it can paint you better than any makeup he gifts you.
You glance up just in time to see the slime's half-melted, blissed out face, held by the winged being who is now gawking at your stained self while you milk the rest of your monster's climax. " Hi Belo. " You chirp.
The angel's head flickers between you and the slime, who only shrugs and grins at him, before he peels his hands back, as if touching Gallon had burnt him. The bartender wobbles in place before slapping onto the back of the bar, decompressing in the wake of his orgasm while you giggle loudly at his antics.
" You're both irredeemable excuses of people, I can't believe this, honestly, on the job- "
Belo's slightly flustered grumbling while he forcibly separates two bar flies caught in a fight fades to nothing for the two of you. Gallon glares playfully at your smug self, fetching a spare towel to clean you with.
" This is far from over. "
Oh, you don't doubt that.
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Hello! I have a bit of a specific request, but I've always had a really dumb laugh, like a hyena cackle and as much as I hate it other people seem to find it funny. So I was wondering what the characters would think of an MC who has a really weird laugh, they usually try to hide it but when they start laughing, they just can't stop. You can do any characters you want but if you could, would you include Diavlo? I feel like he'd be the most receptive to a funky laugh
Yes! 1000x yes! I have a very hyena-like laugh and if I REALLY get going? I snort.
Brothers + Diavolo x Gender-Neutral MC
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: None
MC Has a Funny Laugh
Lucifer:
Lucifer had to do a brief double take because that laugh reminded him way too much of Belphie. It was so similar but then he could hear it as distinctly you.
He was going to have to get used to that sound because he couldn't be on edge hearing it just because it's like his trouble making youngest brother's laugh.
He does like the sound once he gets adjusted and can easily hear the difference!
The hyena laugh is a sign of your comfort because you don't like letting people just hear it if you can help it.
He unintentionally makes you laugh because this man's sense of humor can be summed up as dad jokes.
If you find dad jokes funny then be prepared to be laughing your ass off.
He doesn't mind it. No one else in the house laughs at his jokes. It's nice to have someone laughing for a change.
Levi called his jokes cringy and he doesn't really get why.
Lucifer is just glad that he makes you laugh. That's all that really matters at the end of the day, no matter how bad his jokes are.
Mammon:
He LOVES the sound of your laugh. Absolutely, positively loves it!
His brothers often call his laugh obnoxious but you never did. You always liked his laugh. He feels the same about yours. He loves yours.
I think he's a cackler and his brothers find it obnoxious and never trust him when he's laughing anyway.
Mammon can and will tickle you to make you laugh if you're okay with being tickled.
If not, he'll have to try and tell jokes without fucking up the punchlines or getting nervous.
Which shouldn't be too terribly difficult so long as you're the only one listening to him tell his jokes. No one else is allowed otherwise he will definitely mess up.
No one's allowed to make fun of your laugh, not even you! He'll gently fight you.
Just don't call him out on purposefully trying to make you laugh or tell him he's trying too hard. Please do not discourage the baby. He's working very hard for you.
Leviathan:
Levi probably is insecure about his own laughter once you guys get closer and start dating. He worries it sounds weird.
He first heard your laugh while you guys were watching "Oh No, I Died and Got Brought Back in a Strange World in the Body of a Slime!"
There was a particular scene that just struck you as absolutely hilarious and you devolved into your true laugh.
And Levi loved it. You claimed it sounded funny and weird, he said it sounded perfect!
Levi is one of those who makes a point to get you to let out the real laughter whenever he can.
If you're dating Leviathan, it's safe to assume you have similar humor to him, too. You will be sent funny videos and memes more often than you already were.
Levi brings out all of the comedy anime he owns just to watch them with you. TSL gets put on hold specifically for this until he gets burned out on comedy.
Tbh I think Levi is a snorter and that's why he was so insecure about his own laughter.
You guys love making each other laugh because you think his snort is cute.
Satan:
The sound of your genuine laughter made him smile the first time that he heard it.
He had a feeling you were hiding your actual laughter because you felt insecure or awkward simply because it sounded "funny".
He does let you know that no laugh actually sounds weird. Laughs are different from person to person.
Yours is unique to you and it's just one of the many things there are to love about you.
Don't let him catch anyone making fun of your laugh. They will be beaten black and blue. They won't be saying jack shit when he's done with them.
He doesn't have a full-body laugh like you do. He's got his snickering, which cannot be trusted if you're Lucifer, and his normal laugh.
The normal laugh is quite soft.
Your laugh feels warm to him. It's so lively and pleasant to listen to in his opinion.
Satan will always stop whatever he is doing if he hears you laughing because it's one of his favorite sounds.
Asmodeus:
There was a moment of shock at hearing your hyena laugh for the first time, but it wasn't a bad shock.
No, Asmodeus considered it music to his ears! You were laughing a genuine laugh that had you doubled over and wheezing by the end of it.
This was a sound to be cherished!
His own laughter isn't loud or obnoxious. He's a giggler. Very adorable giggles that you don't want to ever hear at your expense. And you never will.
He isn't going to try to make you start hyena laughing, that should happen naturally!
Sometimes he doesn't quite get your sense of humor. Especially if it's anything like Levi's. He tries to brush up on the things you find funny just so he can laugh with you.
If you EVER feel insecure about your laugh then Asmo will be right there to lift you back up.
You can be insecure, there's nothing wrong with it, but Asmo will make sure you know that there's nothing to be insecure about.
He absolutely has recorded your hyena laughter (with consent) so he can listen to it when you go back to the human world.
Beelzebub:
Loud, booming laughter with this big teddy bear right here.
Beelzebub has a laugh you can hear from several rooms away. It's loud and very distinctly him.
Your hyena laugh doesn't even faze him. He thinks it's pretty cute and it also reminds him of Belphie's laugh. So it's a double win in his eyes!
You better be ready if he finds out you're ticklish and that tickling will bring forth the hyena cackle. You will be tickled until you tell him to stop.
All he wants to do is hear you laugh. Baby boy loves the sound more than anything else.
You also make him feel reassured about his own laughter. Normally he just does a deep chuckle instead of a proper laugh because he's been teased about how loud his genuine laugh is.
If you're insecure about your laugh, he'll make sure you know how much he loves it. You do the same for him.
Insecurity who? Beelzebub has said this is a no insecurity zone today, bitches.
Won't go out of his way to bring out the hyena laugh, but he relishes the moments when it happens.
Belphegor:
Belphie isn't allowed to say shit even if he wanted to. This demon hyena laughs until he can't make a sound and resorts to breathless seal clapping.
That's the real laughter of Belphegor when he gets going. Not his snarky snickering.
You guys have the same sense of humor so if one of you gets going, the other one does too.
You guys probably have a running contest between you to see who can get the other one hyena laughing and you bet your buttons that Belphie is keeping score.
He honestly really likes hearing you laugh like that. It's a nice sound to his ears. It means you're happy.
And happy is all he really wants for you. He vowed when you guys began your relationship he would make you happy.
It's sappy and Belphie hates being a sap, so he'll never admit to this out loud.
It can be suspicious when you two have devolved into hyena cackling.
Lucifer especially gets wary when Satan's joined in laughing at whatever it is.
Diavolo:
Absolutely LOVES the hyena laugh the moment he hears it.
He's one of the ones that has a loud, booming laugh when he gets going. A very loud laugh.
But laughter means joy! He thinks your laugh perfectly encapsulates that!
Diavolo makes it his mission to hear your laugh as often as he can.
It's not like it's hard since he knows you so well and you're comfortable enough to laugh your hyena laugh around him.
No one's ever allowed to talk shit about your laugh or they'll be answering to the prince himself.
This man will go to Leviathan as straight-up ask him "what is a meme and which ones are funny?" like an old man just so he can send you memes.
Levi sends him memes in their private chat CONSTANTLY after this question because he has someone else to share them with now!
He just wants to hear you laugh as often as possible.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me fluff#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me levi#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me asmo#obey me beelzebub#obey me beel#obey me belphegor#obey me belphie#obey me x reader#waylonwrites
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