#can't get the slime off of you no matter how hard you try

[isekyaaa]

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.

[eldritch-spouse]

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.

[palestporn]

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.

[maybeelse]

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?!"

[yestrnight]

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.

[gk1516-1718]

Drawing: Aaaaah! Let me go! I do not want to do this!

Nightmare: I told you to do it!

- Nightmare was trying to control Drawing with his hand, but Drawing still insisted on resisting and not killing Toriel, who belonged to any timeline lying unconscious on the ground, he had already hurt her enough, what more should he do? She had to kill him. Nightmare came up to Drawing and wrapped a few of her tentacles around his waist, then bent her waist a little and brought his head in line with Drawing's neck, and got close enough to listen to all of Drawing's cries, and ran his tongue along her neck, Drawing only let out a small moan. She took it off, and as she took it off, she felt ashamed of herself . Nightmare: Come on~ I know you can, do it kill her~ for me~

Drawing started to feel something strange in her body and realized that her body was being controlled throughout her body and soon she felt the slime on her bandaged hand reaching her face and with that a different smile started to form on her face and Her eyes started to turn from blue and yellow to a single red color. -Drawing: Yes sir~

But I couldn't kill Torie with Drawing's hand, another hand held her hand and prevented him from killing. In the shock of this moment, Drawing began to get out of control and return to normal, the slime slowly starting to return to her arm. When the young woman raised her head to see who stopped her, she saw that Cross was in front of her. Nightmare: I remember telling you to go home with the others. Cross let go of Drawing's hand and turned his full focus to his boss, while Nightmare lifted his body from Drawing's level and returned to his position a few inches taller than Cross. As Drawing was about to go to Cross, Nightmare grabbed the young woman's arm and stopped her in the same place. Nightmare: I don't remember telling you that you could go anywhere, as for you, I also told you to go home, what are you doing here?!

Drawing was cursing herself a thousand times for getting Cross into trouble, but at the same time he was very grateful to him for coming to her rescue. Cross said: Boss, leave Drawing alone, she’s done enough, I'll kill Torie. Nightmare: I don't remember giving you such authority, Drawing will do this, you go home.

Cross: Killer and Dust, Drawing and Horror killed and injured enough people today that I couldn't finish my day and… aaah also I feel like you took Drawing a little too hard today, aaaa and by the way Killer and Horror are fighting at home, you might want to check them out .

Nightmare: WHAT ABOUT DUST?!!

Cross: As you know

Nightmare: Damn it, okay, you won this time, I'm going to look for them, but there won't be a single clue or evidence left here, understood? If anyone knows anything, I will beat you both to death.

Cross and Drawing: Yes

before Nightmare left, he gave a special sly smile to Drawing from behind and then teleported home. Drawing could feel the sins crawling on her back at that moment, but then her embroidery went directly to Cross. Drawing: Thank you again and I'm sorry I didn't get you into trouble again. ?

Cross: Yes you did, he will kill me when he sees that there is no fight at home, learn to protect yourself a little and do what the boss says.

Drawing: Ok sorry again.

When Cross looked sideways at Drawing, he saw that she was staring at the ground, and he took a cool breath and put his hand on her shoulder. Cross: stupid girl, how many times will I tell you to go home before the rest of us after the mission is over, you put up with his harassment every time he catches you, you're not tired of it. ?

Drawing: No matter what I do, he is always faster than me, every time I go he catches me with his arm and I can't go

Cross: Tsch okay okay don't cry come here

Cross was waiting for Drawing with his arms open, Drawing went and hugged him tightly. Drawing: Thank you for being my friend. Cross be careful, one day I will leave and then you will be alone among them, so learn to protect yourself.

[animalisticallytimorous]

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.

[rapid-as-sass-in-nation-team]

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"

[sonicasura]

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.

[eldritch-spouse]

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.

[the-firebird69]

I did hear what comes today several people here the same planit is to have this plan idiots we have this land and it's idiocy. But it's very dangerous for a son and hard for him to endure the horizon and the idiot crap if they put him through it he might get damaged and nobody wants it but that's what these idiots are up to. They want to use him as the ultimate hostage and capture the AI and capture the actual AI computers and to disarm them to study them or load their own program in and use our son to spearhead their operation because they can't get to these caverns and they be too small but they wanted to be too small to use the AI and their armies would be a problem if they tried to and they say they see Tommy f as a problem with it when it's not true it's because Mac and others are in the way and he says they'd be in the way afterwards and he's ridiculous but that's what he's doing. And the AI is in his ship off the rings of Saturn or into the rings of Saturn and it's sitting there deteriorating after time will be no good. And it is suspected other AI is in the caverns. Trump does not know the status of the AI and he doesn't know if they've been broken out of the matrix or not and some people say they have been and there's a big fight over it and some people say that he tried to access the computers already or that he has and that he's armed everything down there. What we noticed is you people don't know the answers to these questions and your delusional and you're weak and you're dangerous to our son. We know the answers to these questions. And the answers are not what you're looking for you saying so it's tough crap but that's what happened now we're going after you hard and we're going to take care of your attitude problem and your stupid smiles and idiotic confidence it's from nothing except you're getting toasted today Trump you should be embarrassed and humiliated and you should be sobered but you're not it's almost like you're a fool what time the f is doing for you and to you you're going to be just like Garth and back just waiting for it and it's going to take care of you and have it done as general grievous so your character is when you die fully. The transplants you into a mutants body and you die. We do help it along because of all your grotesque statements and because you're an a****** to us and our son and you really need to pay for it and that's how you're going to die as a useless piece of s***

The wheels are in motion and show you shortly you go in your journey and you lose the rest of your stuff that you need to survive with and you deny but it doesn't matter cuz that's how we're getting rid of you

Thor Freya

And boy are you a b**** you're going to die you're useless b**** and people going to take all your money and stuff cuz they see what you try and see what you do in your defensive sort of slime ball sleeves ball loser with all the money and father and mother said you still have half of what you're paid for huge companies it's 70% of the world's companies that's a giant sum of money even though we used most of your money to buy them from you because we took over the companies and took the money from the accounts simply paid you out of your accounts that you were no longer controlling and you were forced into it that's what you were hiding now you have the money and you're going to be forced to give that up to a bunch of people

Thor Freya

Olympus

You see I don't like this story if you say you have a plan you got to be the Lord if you don't hv a plan Trump and you should get the if out of the way are you going to learn you shouldn't speak to me that way either shortly and yeah you're going to die first that's for damn sure if it's something happens to me

Mac

[simplyotometrash]

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.

[husbandohunter]

Moments of Despair #2 [Genshin Impact/Albedo x Reader]

Synopsis: "The alchemist who relished in his gifts only to fall from grace."

(A series of works where the boys deal with the passing of their beloved).

Diluc’s despair

Warnings: angst, tragedy, major character death and psychological horror (correct me if otherwise)

(A/n): I decided to take a slightly different approach this time. Regardless, it’s still killing my heart TwT.

---------------------------------------------------

Out of the many wonders of Teyvat, one thing Albedo loved most was how you were so different from him. 

Difference ties to the unknown, one that must be discovered. He was drawn to you the first time he had laid his eyes upon your form standing at the heights of Mondstadt's cathedral. The Sisters scolded you from below, but all you did was reply with a wink amidst their chaos before soaring into the skies and letting the wind carry your glider. Reckless they said. For him, your recklessness was intriguing. 

As the sun's light blinded his vision, everything he saw seemed like a glass barrier. For the ground was where he thrived and chalk was his core, it became the basis of Albedo's very existence. Even the geo Archon granted him a Vision of the same element to affirm his identity. The earth will forever be attached to his feet as he will keep on his stride until every last truth of Teyvat have all been realized. You, on the other hand, hailed from a place where he couldn't quite reach. What lies beyond this glass ceiling? Albedo found himself gradually holding onto a string of curiosities, a string he could touch but was not able to feel. 

'Interesting,' he thought quietly, while the breeze slip between the fingers of his outstretched hand. 

He was a character of logic, possessing sharp eyes that could pierce through the depths of the most complex formulas and a mind to predict their outcomes-  as long as alchemy was still related. All impossibilities thrown in his way only paved a path for him to become the well known genius he was now. Whether it was alchemy or  investigations with the Knights of Favonius, Albedo never failed to deliver the answers. But despite it all, he always found himself endlessly contemplating over things that were considered intangible. He wonders why you smile when there was nothing to laugh about. How could you tell between the complexities of the human heart? Albedo can't seem to put a finger on it. 

'Why? What drives you? What are you thinking?' 

The Chief Alchemist couldn't resist being fascinated by your unpredictability. It reels him in similar to a fish being baited out of the waters. However, unlike those creatures, Albedo only tightened his grip on the strings as if they were a lifeline, determined to find out what they truly felt like to the touch. 

"I can't really say it's much of an answer," you hummed, clasping both hands behind your back before declaring with a grin, "To put it simply, you just gotta follow your heart."

'Follow your heart...' What does it mean to follow your heart? 

"I'm afraid I still don't understand," he replied in a thoughtful manner. The statement never really resonated with him and it certainly weren't the words his Master taught when he was in the early stages of being created, "But it does suit you very much." 

"Really? But still bring your head with you," a playful laugh escapes and you add while pointing a finger, "At least, it's what everyone tells me these days." 

"Hm," Albedo then affirms with a nod, "I can definitely see why they would tell you that." 

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" 

The days go by and his repetitious march towards the truth remains the same. However, there was never a dull moment when you were at his side. Perhaps that was the reason why Albedo became so attracted to your aura. The way you'd follow around his experiments, eyes so full of enthusiasm at every step of the activity. Sometimes the events can get a little too out of hand in which he needs to step in and save you from getting stuck in slime condensates...constantly. Albedo grew fond of your childlike excitement even when you weren't entirely sure what was going on. He normally distanced himself from socializing as it never sparked his interest. Frankly, he was too much of a genius for mundane conversations. Your presence was rather refreshing in this case. You were an oddball, just like him, and for once the alchemist felt like he didn't need to place that glass barrier between the two worlds. 

"You seem to be in a very good mood today Mister Albedo." 

He was a man of subtle expressions yet anyone could notice the small gleam in his eyes whenever he saw you walking in the hallway. Sucrose often remarked with a giggle after she noticed her teacher holding his documents upside down. But who could blame him? Joy, fun, laughter. He was able to experience those emotions all because of you; his beloved. You were the colour to his canvas and the meaning to his flower. You were a force of nature. Like a warm breeze gracing upon the terrestrial lands, you move him. 

Thump- thump- thump- 

Strings around his world began to weave one whole picture while they also tugged inside his chest. God had finally blown the breath of life into mankind's body, it was only a matter of time before Albedo came to follow his heart too. 

-------- 

"Alright, just one more detail aaaaand done!" 

You gave a small tap using the tip of your pencil and leaned back to examine your artwork. 

Masterpiece! 

On days when Katheryne had no commissions assigned to the guild, Albedo would accompany you to the Whispering Woods and conduct his sketches there instead. He was aware of the discomfort Dragonspine brought as the temperature wasn't ideal for anyone except for him. You eventually learned that your lover was not only intelligently different from the rest but physically too. Albedo, aside from the Cavalry Captain, was mysterious in his own way. He was hard to read yet never came off as intimidating, no one knew of his origins nor they knew how he came to Mondstadt. You wondered why someone like him would have wanted to get involved with your shenanigans. Rosaria often gave warnings regarding the alchemist's 'hidden intentions' in which you'd roll your eyes in response. The Albedo you knew was far from that. He was a big brother to Klee, a man passionate about his work, he was the one golden star among the many silvers in your sky. He was your lover. 

My Albedo. 

Brushing a hand upon the drawing you made of him, you glided down the lines of his cheek before resting your finger on the mark by his neck. You gazed at it with fondness. Truly a masterpiece indeed. 

"You do realize I'm still here?" 

The paper nearly flies out of your grasp and you snatched it back to your chest, "HUH A-ALBEDO, WHEN DID YOU APPEAR???" 

"I was with you the whole time," he states. The corner of his lip tug upward ever so slightly, "You said you wanted to sketch me." 

"A-Ahahaha, so I did," you reply while scratching your head bashfully. 'I thought I was looking at a sculpture!!'  You rushed to cover your face with the sheet. It wasn't that you forgot he was there, rather, you forgot he was still a living and breathing specimen who just witnessed your little serenade. As Lisa had once said, Albedo was easy on the eyes. His graceful features made him seem almost like an oil painting that could only be found in  halls of the most prestigious households. You made sure to capture everything, every detail, every curve just like he had done with your portraits. Only now you noticed the sun already began its descent below the lakeside, dusting the landscape with hints of bright orange as it marked the day's end. If only time could slow down. But duty calls upon your next journey and there was no telling when you'd return. At the very least, a simple portrait would suffice to fill in the temporary gap of his absence. 

"Can I see it?" 

You glanced his direction while keeping the drawing close to your nose, "Are you sure about that? It might not be up to your expectations." 

"I'm sure," Albedo affirms with a straight countenance, "I can already tell you've put a great amount of effort, otherwise you wouldn't have taken this long." 

"Yeeaahh I kinda lost track of time. I guess it's only fair that you get to see the finished product," you say and shoved the drawing in front of him, "Tada! I present to you, my masterpiece!" 

Albedo takes it out of your grasp and you watched the way his eyes expanded upon sight. 

"Well? Whaddya think?" 

Words could not describe the mixture of emotions that erupted within him. Was it distinguishable or abstract? Albedo spent his time pondering between the two answers as he examined the drawing closely. Despite the lines being slightly jagged and the unevenness in the placement of his eyes, he managed to make the shape of the entire image you were trying to convey. Perhaps it was all thanks to his well trained artistic vision which gave him the ability to do so. Or maybe he was simply biased. But there wasn't a shred of doubt that this was indeed your craftsmanship. 

"You even added flowers in the background," he pointed out with amusement. 

"It's the thing you make when using your elemental burst, I couldn't fit your hand in the picture so I decided to put it somewhere empty," you informed, "Out of everything, that one took me the longest." 

"And the rabbits?" 

"They resemble Klee's bombs!" 

He lets out a chuckle, "I see." 

Albedo kept his attention downward until he was mindlessly staring at the paper in hand. This was a memory made to be carried as you moved on to your next journey and it saddens him that he could not accompany you. If only time slowed down. Albedo wanted to hold onto the memory forever, because he knew once he gave it back, he wouldn't be able to see you for an uncertain amount of time. 

"Do you really have to go?" 

His voice was barely above a whisper. Guilt crept into your heart and you gingerly layed your fingers on his gloved ones, bringing down the paper that blocked his face. A pair of teal orbs held a reflection of your image as the sun's rays casted from the side. You returned it with a reassuring grin, hoping to soothe his worries somehow, "I just need to pay a visit to my father since he's been very sick lately. I'll be fine, so don't worry too much okay?" 

Albedo turns over his palm and gave your hand a squeeze, "How long will it take?" 

"I'm not sure but it will be a while. Snezhnaya is pretty far so..." you trailed off, "But my time in Mondstadt, with Klee and with you, I will never forget! I won't even if I tried." 

When you were met with no answer, a breeze came in to fill the melancholic silence. He too will not forget and he would ensure that it was the same for you. Slowly, Albedo brought your hand up, past the center of his heart all the way to cupping his cheek. He allowed himself to indulge in your warmth, tangling the strands of his hair with your fingers while closing his eyes. Sweet flowers. You always carried the smell of sweet flowers. 

"Albedo?" You gawked, "What's the matter?" 

"...There are certain aspects where drawings can't imitate,"  he says, grip tightening ever so slightly, "How I feel against your skin, the shape of my jaw, your warmth radiating with my own. These are the things I want you to remember." 

Breath leaves your slightly parted mouth. It was unfair how straightforward Albedo could be when showing his affection. Doing as he pleases without anyone's approval to the point it would even catch you off guard since he often absorbed himself in the arts of alchemy. But during times when Albedo did choose to express his feelings, you knew they came from a place of pure genuinity. The thought made it hard for you to tear away from him, "Did you ever find out what the strings felt like then?" 

Albedo returns his gaze, long golden lashes hovering them as he smiles softly, "...I have." 

As he began to reveal his stories, the dusk sky continued to flare across the landscape with colours of passion. Red, it was the thread that had led him to you, the same string that weaved him together as a whole. Albedo lays a kiss atop of your pinky, there was a reason why Mondstadtians called him the Chalk Prince. You didn't know the intention behind his sudden affection but he knew. It was a promise, one to ensure that the thread would also have you return safely back into his arms. 

Oh how he hated the colour red. 

"Al...bedo..." 

With speed he never knew he had, Albedo scoops you into his embrace and held you close. How did everything happen so fast? He curses his mind as it proceeds to scan your injuries, drawing a conclusion where he wished to be wrong for once: 

You were beyond help. 

"Ah..haha..." you managed to laugh through bitter tears, "You don't have to say it. I know." 

His breath hitches, trying to make sense of the feeling that was slowly tearing him apart from the inside. It's not real. Of course it wasn't, it couldn't be. What other possible answer was there to explain the numbness stinging his fingers? The reason for his shaking? Everything felt so cold. Your body hardly registered to his to touch, you were losing so much blood. You were losing. He was going to lose you. 

"No," Albedo shakes his head, "We still have time. I'll go find help." 

Please, hold on. 

He forced himself to think. The ruin hunter ran off shortly after it had ambushed you, by now the Knights would eventually noticed and apprehended it on sight. They couldn't be too far. All he needed was to carry you back to safety and everyone can go home. Albedo darted his eyes all over the place, breaths becoming shallower with each passing second. Where? Where to go? Which route was best to not overexert your wounds? Think. Think. Think. Why couldn't he think? 

"A..." You watched him in your helpless state. Every part of you throbbed with pain but it pains you even more to see the renowned genius who stood atop the pedestal of elegance and grace so utterly, undoubtedly lost. This was not the goodbye you wanted, though death already had you tight in their grasps. Not yet. Using the last particle of your strength, you tried to stay alive as long as possible. Just a little bit more time. 

Albedo freezes when a trembling hand extends itself to cup around his cheek. Every single thought he had in mind vanished and was replaced by a loud ring resonating in his ears. Dreadfully, mechanically, he turns his attention to where you lay. 

"Don't cry," you whisper, "I love you, don't cry- okay?" 

Albedo grimaces, shutting his eyes closed as he allows the pent up sadness to flow out of him completely, "I can't," he said in a shaky voice, "Please. Stay." 

"I'm sorry," Your vision blurs and he hugs you even more. Drawing your final breath, you relay your most cherished words through a broken smile, "But no matter w-where I go...I won't for..ge.." 

The moment your hand fell, Albedo finally understood the difference between death and loss. 

It was...suffocating. Having the air trapped in his throat, begging to release yet it hurts to speak. The never ending stabs that pulsed within his veins rushed forth like the scraping  blizzard of Dragonspine until his whole body lost all its senses. The world was shattering. He could no longer feel your weight. He could no longer feel. 

(Y/n). 

Albedo glances at his blood stained fingers where the thread had been severed, wide eyes drowning in sorrow. What a horrible feeling. Was this a warning sent by the gods? For stepping into the boundaries of knowing too much? Ah the curse of knowledge man must bear when eating the temptatious fruit. It was the result of choosing to love you. With life, death is inevitable and with love, it will eventually bring pain. Everything had a price to pay and as an alchemist, Albedo knew that better than anyone. 

"...Meaningless..." 

But he refused to accept it. 

Cradling your corpse, he leans in and places a kiss on your forehead, lips quivering as they lingered for a second too long before gathering the strength to stand back on his feet. Nothing will stop the alchemist from reuniting with you. If the laws wished to take you away from him then he will use everything in his power to fight against those laws. 

"This is not goodbye..." Albedo said to the sleeping girl, "And it will never be." 

When the sun sinks below the plains and the stars lose their light, the sky had been replaced with a palette of darkness. It was time to go home. 

------ 

"Have you all heard about the rumours?" 

A group of knights gather in the corner as they whisper about. Sucrose stops on her tracks and hides behind a wall, clutching the book close to her chest in an attempt to stay hidden. 

"Another criminal disappeared from the dungeons? Crazy..." 

"More like creepy. I was told that place might be haunted by some dead prisoner's ghost. Even the Church is hopping onto this case." 

"Well I hope it doesn't get any worse. So many of us started going on night patrols..." 

Their voices faded out of range as the anemo user backtracks her steps carefully. Several months passed since the news of mysterious kidnappings have been announced to the public. Rumours of their whereabouts swirled around the city and much to her discomfort, Sucrose happened to catch every single one of them. There couldn't possibly be evil spirits lurking in the Favonious Headquarters right? She silently shrieks at the thought, shaking her head furiously to stop her mind from going too deep. No, I have to find him. Without wasting another minute, the anemo user sprinted towards the stairs all the way up to the second floor before stopping directly in front of her teacher's office. Despite the adrenaline that occured at the same time, she made sure to knock. 

No answer. 

"Strange, he told me he would be here today..." Sucrose muttered to herself. But suddenly she heard the sound of objects shifting from the otherside, signaling that there was indeed someone occupying the room. Without realizing, she held her breath out of anticipation. 

"Come in." 

The door creaks as she opens them, giving her enough space to slip between the gap, "Mister Albedo?" 

"You're early today," The Chief Alchemist noted from his desk, "Is there something the matter?" 

"Y-You mean you don't know? There was just another case about a person disappearing from the dungeons," Her tone became more frantic as she rambled to herself, "The kidnapper never leaves a trace and no one knows how they were able to get out. Even when we ask the guards what happened, they can't seem to remember as if...as if someone casted a spell on them!" 

"A spell?" He inquires, "I suppose that could be a possibility." 

"I think so too. I-It's the only explanation that makes sense! I mean...ghosts don't exist after all," Sucrose nervously looks down at her shoes while giving her book a squeeze, "But why? Who could be capable of such advanced techniques? No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to understand their intentions." 

"...Yes. It is a very strange occurrence indeed." 

Noticing her teacher's withdrawn attitude, Sucrose couldn't help but feel flustered at her own behaviour, "Ah my apologies Mister Albedo, I didn't mean to go off track. Have there been any progress on the investigations so far?" 

Albedo briefly glanced at the various documents splayed across his table. His reputation as an incredibly intelligent individual had reached far and wide through Mondstadt. This led to the authorities requesting his assistance regarding the recent matters, despite him specializing in the alchemical field, he was also the Captain of their Investigation Team. Although, Albedo detested partaking in things he deemed irrelevant to his research; 

"I'm afraid I would need more evidence to draw a conclusion." 

"Eh? You still need more?" 

He could not deny that the given authoritative position had provided much benefits to his own accord. 

"My expertise lies in the subject of alchemy," Albedo reasoned and proceeds to intertwine his fingers in front of his mouth, "Humans on the other hand, are very unpredictable in nature. Even the essence of their existence is hard to obtain." 

"Essence of their existence?" Sucrose repeated softly. She wanted to ask what he meant but the blank expression was evident  enough to signal his impatience. At least, that was what she thought, "Nevermind! I have something that might help," taking out a slip from her textbook, she handed it to him, "It's the report Captain Kaeya gave me. He said that the culprit might be a traitor coming from the Knights of Favonius." 

He narrows his eyes. 

"I-I think he might be right! Just think about it, we haven't found anything at all for the past few months but when we do, I sometimes feel like we're just running in circles...oh what if it's becau-" 

"Sucrose." 

"Y-Yes?!" 

Albedo calmly looks at the flustered girl, not realizing how sharp his tone was, "You're overthinking again. Perhaps it's best that you take this day off." 

"But I came here to help," she insisted, "I know it hurts to lose someone you love! Don't you understand that we're all worried about you? And Klee, she..." 

"..." 

"Please Mister Albedo, if there's anything I could do-" 

"No need," he cuts her off once again, "Your stress levels are too high. We can't go any further if you continue to act like this." 

"Oh," her ruby eyes casted to the side, "I understand..." 

"Good. Now, if you would excuse me," Albedo bid her farewell and watched as the door clicked behind her, observing every detail until he was sure that the absolute silence had returned. He picks up Kaeya's document. Such remarkable handwriting. But of course, appearances are only meant to be displayed on the surface for the Captain was a sly man, wearing a mask to shield what lies underneath. Just like his letter, they were full of innuendos and condensed meanings, orchestrated together until the truth spoke loudly to Albedo himself. 

"So, that's what he thinks." 

Perhaps the alchemist should have been a little more discreet. 

-------- 

There was a certain place in Dragonspine that no one dared to enter. But those who have, they never return. 

"Hm, no response. Now as for the next step..." 

And he was the reason why. 

Taking the sword out of the transmutation circle, Albedo turned to the snowy hill nearby and activated his alchemy. A small portion of it dissipates, revealing a trench that went so deep underground that even warmth couldn't outplay the sheer cold. It was the perfect hiding place for the evidence to lay out of sight and an environment where only he could handle. The alchemist tossed the leftover along with the others before exiting quietly, summoning back the ice to bury his victims once again. Another day, another experiment, another stain goes to his title. The path he walked upon was one littered with corpses and the sins he committed. But despite the bones crunching beneath his feet and the weight of the dead hanging on his shoulders, the alchemist was numb to it all. Like an entity floating in space with nothing to hold, he became unable to feel. 

"I'm back," When reaching the center of Starglow Cavern, Albedo puts his hand on the icicle and caressed it's hard cold surface, "Did you sleep well?" 

The girl did not respond. Her eyes were closed and her skin was as young as ever. She was frozen in time. 

"You must have." 

Albedo felt the sword beginning to shake in his grasp as it resonated with his energy. Dust particles emitted from the hilt and slowly made their climb to the side of his arm. Still, Albedo's attention did not waver, "To this day, I've been thinking about what you told me the first time we met." 

"..." 

"Follow your heart. I couldn't understand it at first but after being around your presence, I believe I can finally recognize what that term means." 

He closes his eyes as he envisioned your lively form running across the landscape. Albedo, Albedo! The sound of his name was mixed with your laughter while Klee came into the scene and caught the dandelions with you. A content smile formed on his countenance as he watched from afar, even if it was just a memory, "It's everything. The breakfast we ate together, to the nights spent camping outside, and the silly moments we shared, they bring all these colours that I never knew existed." 

"..." 

Albedo curls his fingers against the ice as he continues to lament, "Perhaps that's why I began noticing the strings around me. The closer I was to answer, the more I felt it was necessary to discover what they are. All this time, you were the answer I was searching for," Moist begins to build up in his eyes but they freeze up once reaching the corners. How cruel. Despite what he went through, he wasn't even granted the liberty to cry, "Because with you, I'm able to feel them." 

He wonders what you would think if you saw him right now. Albedo peers at his reflection casted on the crystalline surface, the frame of his face had been decorated with streaks of purple and red, spreading out like tree branches as they both fought for dominance. The teal coloured orbs you once adored were beginning to transform to a colour that reminded him of his darkest days. This was Albedo's true nature- a monster, a being that wasn't human, the essence in which you never had the chance to see. 

"I know I may not be the same as I was before," he added, "But if that is what it takes to follow your heart, will you let me feel the strings again?" 

Would you still love me the same? 

"..." 

"If so, then please understand my actions," Albedo takes a step back as he held out the sword in front of him. At last, the preparations have finally been completed. He plunges the blade to the ground with full force and the surrounding area begins to shake under the power accumulated through many, intentional sacrifices. To revive the dead was a forbidden art as it came with heavy consequences. If it weren't for Albedo's talent and quick wit, the process would have consumed him long before executing the last stage. He winces, the pain was excruciating. It was hard for him to ignore the sound of his skin cracking below his ears and all the way to his nose as they fall off in the shape of small rock-like chunks. Everything hurt so much that even death sounded like a sweet dream but Albedo couldn't afford to give up. He had already come this far, his hands completely washed with sin and his reputation already broken beyond repair, Albedo had nowhere else to go. This was his last destination. 

"Soon-" he pants between choked breaths. Soon your eyes will open. He could drown in your embrace, one that was warm and not cold. Soon he will be able revive those cherished memories from a frozen past. It was all he could think of right now. Your existence was the reason why a part of him felt whole and your death made him realize how painful it was to tear away those pieces. Albedo refused to let go of those pieces, they had already become a part of him. And if this path ended up tearing him even more, then so be it. 

"I should have stopped you the moment you were born." 

The intruder snapped him awake and he swung around to where they stood. But before Albedo could make out who it was, they lunged past him with incredible speed, kicking the sword off the ground while severing his two arms once and for all. They flew to the side, blood dyed purple trickling from the edges of his joint as he struggled to stay upright. 

"Dains...leif..." 

Dainsleif watched the alchemist fall onto his back as the light around him slowly faded away. He turned his gaze to where the objective was and noticed a girl encased within the ice. The man sighs out of relief when she shows no signs of life, he came just in time, "So this is how it ends." 

Albedo weakly stared at the blonde man. He attempted to say something but the blood caught in his mouth prevented him from that. 

"Save your breath, you won't be having any," Dainsleif remarks in a cold manner and glared at his bloodied form, "The renowned Chief Alchemist of Mondstadt and an important member of Ordo Favonious. Hmph, what an interesting turn of events. Out of everyone, I never thought you were the type to act so foolish." 

Foolish...what a foreign name to be called as. He never heard anyone tell him he was foolish. 

"Truly a pity," With a flick of a wrist, Dainsleif brought his sword to Albedo's neck. It was unbelievable how he had the endurance to go through all that pain while still breathing at this point but what is there to be expected from a monster? "Remember that all actions have consequences." 

The alchemist watched as his life flashed before him, the weight of his sins had finally caught up. He had always seen the world as a platform for his objectives and results were merely a natural cause after attempting many experiments. But death as a consequences was an unbearble realization upon his final moments. He abandoned his title, his pupil and his dearest sister. In the end, he was still unable to fulfill his duty. 

"I just..." Albedo mumbled, his words slurring together, "wanted..." 

As the ashes turn to ashes and dust becomes dust, chalk returns to the earth, forever yearning a place that can never be reached.

[konata-izumi-kinny-writes]

Nico X F! Reader

Based off the movie Howl's Moving Castle

Sfw

You lived your whole life in the Royal City in Kingsbury as a citizen of the upper middle class, you and your mother run a art gallery together, but she was sick today so you closed up shop. You were out for a walk to go see your best friend, Hitoshi, who ran a candy store, You were then startled by loud music and cheering as a parade drew near. In an effort to get away from the overwhelming noise, you try navigating your way through the alleyways of your neighborhood, occasionally stopping to pet the stray cats. You only stopped when two of the royal guards started hitting on you and wouldn't leave you be, no matter how hard you tried, they couldn't just take the hint that you're not interested... even though you made it painfully obvious you weren't interested. That is until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"Oh there you are chibi, are they bothering you?"

You look at who it may be and you see one of the most beautiful people you've ever seen. He had soft, dark colored skin, big crimson eyes, one of them in a bandage, with some of the biggest eyelashes you've ever seen. You also notice his hair, bight green and the length down to his waist.

"Hey! Can't you see we're busy?!" One of them barked.

"Aww really? It looked like you were just leaving!" The green haired boy said in a cheerful tone. With a wave of his fingers the guards, much to their surprise, stood at attention and started marching away. You gazed into the boy's eyes in awe as you heard the guards' footsteps fading.

"Are you okay? Oh where are my manners, I'm Nico, its nice to meet you!" He beamed at you with a friendly smile

"I'm Y/n, nice to meet you too, Nico."

"If its okay i want to walk with you so that doesn't happen again"

"Yes please, thank you"

He took your hand and you two started strolling along, as you walked you suddenly remembered something, for as long as you can recall, there's been a tale of a wizard with long green hair and red eyes, it is said that he lives in a castle that moves on legs. Rumor has it that hes very dangerous and he possesses strong, powerful magic. But considering you've never seen him you assumed he wasn't real or he's just not as vicious as everyone describes him to be.

You looked up at him and realized its not just a tale, its true, and he's right next to you, humming a tune and looking happier than a clam all the while everyone described him as some sort of demon. Your heart jumped even more when your heard the sound of something slimy like an extremely thick liquid, or pudding with a tad too much gelatin. You look behind you to see humanoid monsters seemingly made out of black ooze. You feel a chill up your spine and a stab of anxiety in your chest.

"Ehhhh? Looks like we're being followed.. just hold on to me, we'll be okay" he says with a bright expression on his lips. Not knowing what else to do you clinged onto his arm as you two started walking faster. But so did the slime creatures, you and Nico kept on building speed to the point of running until you saw the monsters in front of you as well.

"Hold on tight"

Nico warned you as he picked you up and jumped into the air above the buildings. You yelped out of surprise, fear, and excitement, could see all of Kingsbury from here!

"Okay, now we straighten our legs and start walking!"

"Wait wha.."

Despite your confusion you did as he said as he held your hands, and to your surprise, you started flying. You looked down at all of the festivities below you, people dancing together, brightly colored confetti falling from the balconies, people cheering and large pink and yellow flags and banners hanging from buildings. Your heart was soaring almost as high as you and Nico were. He set you down on the balcony of Hitoshi's shop.

"Is there any way i can see you again, Nico?"

"Of course!" He exclaims, he takes out a necklace and puts it around your neck

"Use this to communicate with me, we can meet with eachother by setting up dates with this."

"Thank you so much, this means a lot"

"Anything for you, chibi." He gives you a quick kiss on the forehead before jumping off the balcony. Worried and startled, you look to where he could've landed. But he was gone, dissapeared in the crowd.

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Aight yall, I'll come out with some headcannons for our boi Nico along with Soul Evans from Soul Eater later.

Thanks for reading 💚

[emeto-omo]

I saw someone else asked for Sephiroth emeto fic, and I second it. When you can, I'd love to see something like that from you. I can't think of exact scenarios but I love it when characters are excruciatingly nauseous or heave repeatedly but can't get anything out no matter how hard they try. Also when they desperately try avoid it for as long as possible, swallowing it back and pretending they're fine until it forces its way out, spraying out from around their hand and/or out their nose.

What? Not me answering prompts again after a large hiatus! Thank you for such a fun, unique prompt. I didn't think I'd ever get a chance to write a FFVII one! I hope this is alright! Title: Didn't Have It In Him Characters: Sephiroth Universe: FFVII Crisis Core Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32240563 Summary: Always the show of strength and stoicism, Sephiroth stomach is betraying him in the worst way. Disclaimer: Graphic descriptions of vomit are in this story. ~*~ Sephiroth remained stoic as he returned to the locker room after training. He moved slower than the others, but no one thought any thing of it. If they did, they didn’t say a word. Why would they? Most folks either worshipped him or was afraid of him, and at work, they knew not to bother him. He was grateful that Zach at least was out on duty, it wouldn’t have done to have the puppy nipping at his heels when he felt like this. His stomach gave a sour gurgle as he sat and waited for the showers to clear out. For most, it seemed like he sat in quiet contemplation, but hiding his face behind a silver curtain of hair, he swallowed against the nausea. His mouth filled with unwanted saliva, his adam’s apple bobbing ominously with every forced gulp to try to keep whatever turmoil was going on inside him down.

He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing, listening as the conversations ended, footsteps leaving one by one, showers finished and gear put away. He belched beneath his breath, letting it escape putrid and sour through his nose and almost gagged again. He was grateful when the final soldier left, opening his eyes to peer down at his hands that shook slightly from the nausea and the energy his body was putting in trying to cope with it.

He stood, wobbly on his usually sure feet, and made his way for the showers, taking his gear off along the way to leave on the bench outside. A hiccupped belch escaped him and his fingers flew to his lips, sure that something with more substance was soon to spill forth. He gagged weakly, stomach roiling as a small bit of spittle slipped forth that he spat on the floor, but it seemed the moment passed and he swallowed weakly as he continued on.

Cold water rushed forward first, and for a bit, it was soothing until he began to shake and shiver more…then he couldn’t seem to get it hot enough. The violent shakes made the nausea worse, every muscle in his body tensing, and he pressed his hand to his mouth as the door reopened to the locker room. He listened, hearing someone rummaging, a rookie likely having forgotten his keycard in his hurry to leave. It stretched on while his mouth filled again, this time with a more sour, acidic, thicker saliva that he gagged hard behind his hand before he could stop himself. He swallowed desperately, gagging again before he cold with a loud belch.

“Everything all right in there?” The recruit called, likely not having even checked to see whom he was checking on. “Out!” Came Sephiroth’s cold directive, and the audible squeak that sounded let him know they knew sure as anything now as they rushed out, the door closing in time for a viscous brown spray of vomit to escape between Sephiroth’s bare fingers and nose, splattering against wall and floor and feet. The shower hit it, beginning to dissolve it immediately, but watching it dancing within the drops forced another churn of his stomach. “HRRRUUUUUPPPP!” He wretched loudly, bringing up his own shower of puke, far thicker this time that hit with an ugly wet slop against the tile. Barely had he time for breath or to brace himself against the wall before his stomach jerked hard and he half-choked, coughing as chunks expelled hard enough to travel with some distance against the stall divider, sliding down slow.

“Buuuurrrruuuuupp!” He belched as the tail end turned into another thick stream of puke, the power of his spotting his vision for a moment, and he found himself going to his knees, holding his stomach. The muscles were sore as his tummy hitched, rolled beneath his fingers, and pressed a more liquid stream through his nose and lips, burning with pure acid. He had to catch himself on the floor, something soft squishing beneath his palm as it found purchase on a wet pile of chunk that hadn’t fully dissolved down the drain. His eyes watered as it instantly triggered a painfully loud dry heave that echoed off the walls. “Fuc---uuuuugggghhhh!” He had cursed just to belch and gag again, a strained sound leaving him as the reflex strained for almost too long for him to bear, veins bulging in his neck as his face began to redden. He gagged again, and again, retching painfully, unproductively, while he could still hear the wet gurgles of his upset stomach begging to be released. Desperately, he turned his face up toward the shower’s warm spray and let it fill his mouth, swallowing hard and forcing it down. Another gulp, then another gulp, the nausea turned worse than ever…dizzyingly so. The heat of the liquid seemed to float on whatever was down there, and though he gagged, it refused stubbornly to come up. With no other sign of this stopping, he brought long, pale fingers to his lips, hesitating onto a moment before he passed them through. He coughed and gagged before they were past his tongue, but forced himself to hold them there, pressing deeper til he could work them in and out in his throat, pressing down some on the back of his tongue. Like a waterfall, water rushed up with bile, stinging his nose once more, choking him as his hand moved too slow, covered with throat slime as he expelled it violently against the shower floor, feeling it splash back against his face. He wretched unproductively, breath hitching, before a guttural sound escaped him and he brought up one more productive wave, leaving pink-tinged mucus hanging from his lips. He breathed heavily, his face a mess with saliva and snot, both thick and viscous just spilling slowly out of him for a moment before he found enough peace within himself to work to clean himself up. Slow and steady he first let the water slip over his face, then used to clear the shower walls and the ground, before he would focus what little energy he had left to clean himself up. No reason return back to the lab and give Hojo any excuses for further testing. He just didn’t have it within him today. ~fin~

[youaresogoingtohell]

So overnight I got to thinking about it all, and realized some hard things about myself and my history with cults.

Yesterday I said they didn't indoctrinate me, but last night I realized they actually kinda did. And I'm ashamed to say I believe in some of it still. It's hard to shake.

They got me believing I should eat at least twice a day. Slowly, over time - cleverly, really. It was only one part of the whole way they stealthily steered me into seeing the world through "nourishment" goggles.

fucking creeps!

They completely changed my perception of myself. I didn't realize it at the time, but that's what they did! No matter what they say, no matter how hard they try to object or re-frame the issue in some other way, they absolutely are to blame for me no longer being able to see myself as garbage. That loss can never be undone! Any time I want to return to that youthful verve of being living shit-slime, their programming knocks me out of it, no matter how hard I try to remember all the logic and satisfaction of hating my own self. It didn't happen overnight. It took a lot of work on their part.

Fuck, too, they politicized me. They radicalized me. Does anyone really ever recover from that? I don't think so, not really. And again, it was so tricky. No lectures, no hard sell. I can't even pinpoint when it happened. It all just seemed to add up in my mind, one day. I bet they were delighted! but they didn't say anything, if so.

There was a room, a big one, that you had to take your shoes off to go into. Red flag! It seemed fine, at the time. Goes to show you! The mind control takes many forms.

Not One Of Them Fucked Me. Not ONE. ?!?!?!? disrespectful! For years I'd been hearing all this juicy shit about forced sex and group sex and secret mutual masturbation rituals. NOPE. Utter, boring, total hideous lack of any sex drama whatsoever. All that cloying 'honesty' and endless 'communication' about 'feelings' and 'needs'. I can't believe it took me so long to see it for what it is.

Inhuman! Unnatural.

There's too much to go into, and it's so tangled up. They were smart about it. They'd find all sorts of subtle ways to convince me that people can't be hostile, isolated, single-use units of value in separate cubicles for a lifetime, how the home should be this inexpensive and nontoxic sacred place, all kinds of shit like that. Looking back, it's like, they were all so fucked up about Ps & Qs around each other. What's that all about?

Friends, it has been well over twenty years since I could force something into my mouth that's neon blue and weird-tasting. And that's only one lasting consequence of having let myself get conned by people who never once let on that they were conditioning me. No no, they were smooth! They did it with this scarily gentle lack of any direct language at all. It was all encoded into their smiles, human appearances and weirdly careful daily behavior. Who does that? "checking in" and "making sure you're okay" and so on. Paranoid much????

I'm sorry to say that, several times, I'd let one or more of them hug me when I was crying. Love bombing I guess they call it.

I think it's important to be open about these experiences so that more people aren't harmed by dangerous anti-american lifestyle gurus.

After all this time, I still don't know why they didn't try to stop me from escaping, but, they didn't. Maybe it was because they knew I'd go forth and preach about hippie bullshit for them, like a super hot gay lure. Well, no worries there! I will never, ever tell you how to find them.