#like why do i feel so heavy you ARE PIXELS

[wutheringwisteria]

Requested tags: @ninastasia0

[ Chapter 1 ]

Curly's sleeping schedule was a mess.

It has been five days since he dropped the bomb, and the Tulpar crew couldn't be any more awkward.

Anya was relatively the same, but became more saddened as the days go by. Swansea was still his gruff self, albeit a lot more harsh towards the intern, Daisuke. Daisuke, on the other hand, kept his smile up.

He still talks to Jimmy, because he's his friend and it was literally impossible not to since he's his co-pilot. But you... no matter how many times he tried to bring himself to do it—he can't.

Those little talks you both guys had in the past now reduced to little to no communication at all. And it was killing him. Sure, he'd only get a simple sentence and a flat tone from you—hell, maybe even a scowl if he's unlucky.

But he didn't mind, not at all! Showing anger or anything makes you human, after all.

His heart feels heavy when he walks past your quarters. Tonight was another sleepless night, and no matter how many tosses snd turns he does, the warm embrace of sleep could not reach him.

So he goes out for a small stroll on the upper deck.

He finds himself in the main lobby. From there, he could see another figure sitting on the long couches, staring up at the fake moonlight of the large screen.

Anya.

Wordlessly, he sits down. Just a few meters away from her.

"You doing okay?" He asked, voice soft.

Her dark gaze looks back at him. After a moment's silence, she speaks up. "Yeah. Can't sleep."

"I know how that is. I just toss and turn, or stare at the ceiling all night." Curly chuckled, but it was brief.

"I actually kinda like the night time window screen," replied Anya. She looks back up. "If you can believe it. So I just come look at it sometimes. If you look really, really close, you can see there's a dead pixel in the upper right corner."

"That so?" Curly blinked. He looks up at the giant screen, squinting his eyes. "Hmmmmmm..."

"Nope. Don't see it."

"In the back of my mind, it's always there."

Curly huffs, leaning back against the couch. "Now I'll go bonkers looking for it. Cheers." His eyes slowly travels back to the screen, a small smile making its way to his face. "...I don't think it ruins the illusion, though. It's peaceful. But maybe I'm just used at looking at the bigger picture."

Anya doesn't tear her eyes away from the screen. "How many days of transport do we have left?"

"Ah, let's see. Off the top of my head... around 237 days. Just under—"

"Eight months." Anya finished the sentence for him. But her voice gets quieter. Curly remains silent as the nurse finally looks back at him. "Hey. Why do you think Pony Express put a lock on the medical room door but not in the sleeping quarters?" She suddenly asked.

"Hmm." Curly thinks. "I suppose for the same reason they put a lock in the cockpit. Safety."

Anya pursed her lips together, furrowing her eyebrows.

"I see."

🫧

"I'm pregnant."

Two words. Two simple words was all that it took for your whole body to freeze, still as stone. You turned around slowly, folding the corporate's letter Curly had nights prior and placing it inside your chest pocket. "...Repeat that?"

Anya visibly tenses up, her hand finding its way to grab her sleeve. "I'm... I'm pregnant—for about a month now." The words felt like bile, waiting to be vomited out. She could feel your stare piercing through her skull, and the slightest part of her wonders if telling you first was a mistake. A grave, and horrible mistake that she just had made.

"For a mo—..." you trailed off, making your disbelief known. For a moment, you just stay still, trying to process what Anya just revealed to you. A lot of questions ran in your mind, but all you could utter was a simple, "Who?" You couldn't picture anyone else besides one person, and by the looks of it, it seems like it wasn't consensual.

Which made you even more angry.

But you kept calm for Anya's sake. To show that you have been working on your anger management. "Anya," you call her name with a voice more leveled this time. "I need you to tell me. Who's the father?" Who is he so that I can kill him?

She hesitates, her dark eyes casted downwards and glistening with unshed tears. You take a step forward and she flinches. Sucking in a breath, you took another step and wrapped your arms around Anya and giving her a much needed hug.

Anya couldn't contain it anymore. She sobbed, burying her face in your chest and letting her tears soak your uniform. All while you try to console her by patting and rubbing circles on her back. The nurse was trembling, it was now clear to you that she had been a victim of sexual assault.

And her abuser roams free on the ship.

"Shh, shh, it's alright, it's okay, I got you..." you whispered, your other hand mindlessly running through her dark locks. You feel every tear that escapes her eyes, every breath she sucked in, and every time her body shudders that's followed along with a sob.

"Just... just tell me the name, and I'll go tell Curly about it," you shifted slightly, pulling away and cupping her face. Anya meets your eyes once more, her lips quivering as she brings a hand up to wipe away her tears.

"It's... it's Jimmy..."

🫧

Daisuke peeks his head into the main lobby. No other people present, that's good. He slowly steps inside and makes his way over to the kitchen.

He had been watching the cake making process since Curly's birthday. If he could just operate it, he would be able to snag one of those sweet, sweet, sweeteners.

"Okay, so I just press this... and then this..." he goes around, pressing some buttons and just completely winging it. Daisuke didn't even take a time of his day to look at the instructions that were literally plastered in front of him.

After a lot more pressing, the food dispenser dinged and Daisuke immediately went over to it. "Haha, it worked!" he cheered. The sweetener was there, in all of its glory. He could practically taste the sugary contents in his tongue.

But before he could even rip the pack open, he was spooked by a voice calling him. "Daisuke,"

The intern whips his head around, almost breaking his neck. He frantically hid the sweetener behind him, forcing a smile. "Oh, hey, Y/N! What's up?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"Do you know where Jimmy is?" You asked without a second thought.

"Jimmy?" Daisuke tilts his head, trying to think about where he last saw the co-pilot. "I think he went looking for something down on the lower deck. I don't really remember."

You nodded. "Okay, thanks." You left the main lobby without another word, leaving Daisuke a little dumbfounded.

"Okay, now where was I?" Daisuke turned his attention back to opening the sugar packet, only to jump at another voice calling him.

"Boy," Swansea suddenly appeared, panting heavily and looking like he ran a hundred marathons. "Where is she? Where did Y/N go?"

"Y/N?" Daisuke blinked. "She went to the lower deck, I think. She was asking about Jimmy."

Swansea cursed under his breath. "Damn it," he wasn't in his prime anymore. Running would only exhaust him even further. "Look, kid. Y/N just took the axe without asking. And if I know her well, she might just do something that'll get us all into trouble."

"What do you mean?" asked Daisuke. "I don't think I understand, boss—"

"I mean that she's going to try and axe Jimbo in the face!" Swansea brings up a hand to wipe away the sweat on his forehead. "Be useful for once and help me catch her before things get outta hand!"

Now that set alarms inside Daisuke's head. "O-On it! Oh, I didn't know she was going to kill Jimmy!" He was feeling guilty because he had just endangered his superior's life. He pocketed the sweetener and immediately ran out of the room, with Swansea following behind sluggishly.

Meanwhile...

"Hey, Anya. Have you seen Y/N? I looked everywhere but I can't seem to find her." Curly asked upon entering the medical room, where Anya was stationed at her desk and was reading over some papers.

The nurse puts the papers down and looked up at Curly. "No, I don't think so. Maybe you should ask Swansea—"

A blood curdling scream cuts her off. Anya flinches as Curly whipped his head around at the direction of the sound. "...What the hell was that?"

For a moment, Anya's eyes began to widen. No, you couldn't possibly...?

Curly looked back at Anya with a serious expression. "I'll go check it out. You stay right here, okay?"

He didn't wait for her response as he immediately turned on his heel and sprinted out the medical room.

Anya remains stunned in her place, her mind running with countless thoughts. Now that she thinks about it, Curly seemed unaware of her... situation. It only means one thing, that you didn't tell him. And it also means that... you took matters into your own hands.

"Oh, god..." She stands up in a frantic manner, her body inclined to follow Curly. "Please, please don't be doing what I think you're doing, Y/N..."

[as-syllable-from-sound]

finishing a show leaves me feeling so indescribably empty. what do you mean their stories are over?? that’s where it ends?? now they’re forever confined to xxx amount of seasons with only xxx amount of episodes and i won’t get to see them in new cool experiences again?? i don’t know how to convey this but it’s just a kind of sadness incomparable to other emotions. you feel me???

[faebled-stories]

Max Level: Pleasure Unlocked

Le Sserafim's Miyawaki Sakura x Male reader

AN: So... I may have been a tiny bit late to class today 😅. Why, you ask? Well... I was up all night re-watching Marry My Husband (totally worth it, btw). Anyway, fast forward to class, and I casually checked my phone, and—wait for it—WHAT?! Almost 300 likes for Ms. Kim Chaewon?! You guys are seriously amazing! 💖 This story was supposed to drop tomorrow, but because I love you all so much... here’s a little treat! 😘✨

P.S. Why is this lecture soooo long? Send help! 😂

Miyawaki Sakura, the eldest member of Le Sserafim, had found a new thrill—one that didn’t involve the stage lights or concert crowds. Live streaming had pulled her into its vibrant, fast-paced world of colorful pixels and instant connection. It wasn’t just a hobby anymore; it became her escape—a digital realm where she could unwind and be herself. Streaming offered her a space where she could share her love for video games in the most authentic way possible. Her laughter would echo through the headset, filling the room with the joy she found in navigating complex game worlds and strategizing with her audience. It was a welcome reprieve from the pressures of K-pop stardom, a place where she could exist without expectation.

But as Sakura’s love for streaming grew, so did the distance between her and Y/N. Y/N cherished their quiet evenings together—the ones filled with soft conversations, playful glances, and the warmth of shared intimacy. Now, those moments seemed to slip away, replaced by the blue glow of Sakura's monitor and the sounds of gaming filling the room. He found himself feeling increasingly sidelined, the comforting presence of his girlfriend diluted by the endless stream of fan interactions and in-game distractions. Every evening, as he sat in their apartment watching her stream, Y/N felt like a shadow in her life, forgotten behind the glow of her screen.

The silence after Sakura's gaming sessions hung in the air, heavy and unfamiliar, a stark contrast to the laughter that used to fill their nights. He would lie in bed, staring at the empty space beside him, wondering when their quiet, intimate nights had been swapped for late-night streams. The late-night absence became more palpable, the connection they once shared now buried beneath layers of bright pixels and fan interactions.

Frustrated and unsure of how to bridge the growing gap between them, Y/N turned to the one person who knew both of them best—Kwon Eunbi, Sakura's former leader and the matchmaker who had brought them together in the first place. Eunbi, always the voice of reason and support, listened with a thoughtful expression as Y/N poured out his concerns.

"I just don't know how to get her attention anymore," Y/N confessed, his voice tinged with frustration. "She used to light up when we were together, but now it feels like I'm competing with a screen."

Eunbi, ever the sage, leaned in with a twinkle in her eye, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "Well, my dear, sometimes you just need to remind her of what she's missing," she said, her tone playful yet reassuring. "There's this little shop downtown. They have... items that might help reignite that spark you're worried about. A little mystery, a little surprise—that's the key."

Y/N blushed at the suggestion, but the idea intrigued him. Maybe Eunbi was right—maybe a little spontaneity was exactly what their relationship needed. "Okay noona," Y/N said with newfound determination. "Take me there. I'll do whatever it takes."

Eunbi grinned. "That's the spirit. Trust me, after this, she'll be more than eager to spend some time away from that screen, and if it doesn't work out... you have my number" the older girl winked before giving a slightly playful slap to Y/N’s behind

As soon as Eunbi led him into the little adult shop tucked away in a quiet side street downtown, Y/N’s nerves melted into curiosity. The shop was intimate, lined with rows of items that promised to stoke passion and bring lovers closer. Eunbi was more than willing to offer her guidance, clearly enjoying herself as she pointed out various products.

"Trust me," Eunbi had said with a wink, picking up a small bullet vibrator from one of the shelves. "This one is discreet but packs a punch, It's perfect for getting things started. She won’t see it coming." Y/N’s cheeks had flushed at the thought, but the image of Sakura’s surprised reaction made her smile. It was perfect for catching his girlfriend off guard.

As they continued browsing, Y/N’s eyes landed on a sleek, curved G-spot vibrating dildo that promised deeper, more intense sensations. He couldn’t help but imagine how Sakura might respond to its use—what that extra thrill might do to rekindle the heat between them. Eunbi happily skips over to Y/N with a box that he hasn't seen before, a rabbit ear vibrator "Y/N you have to get this, I’m telling you Sakura will melt and turn to putty in your hands, I have one myself and it's pretty amazing." Y/N looked at his noona with a skeptical look. Why is she so into this, is his precious noona actually not as innocent as she portrayed to the public?

Thinking about her words he can't deny that the idea of being the one to control Sakura’s pleasure sent a surge of excitement through him. He added it to his growing selection of items.

The final addition was a delicate set of pastel pink lingerie. His girlfriend's favorite color. lace-lined and revealing, something that he knew she would love, he remembered her saying she wanted something similar to this but was always ashamed and embarrassed to buy it

Y/N picked up the set knowing how much it would make his lover feel even sexier. He could already imagine the fabric clinging to his girlfriend's skin, the look in Sakura’s eyes when she sees it. There was no doubt that tonight, he would make sure all of Sakura’s attention was focused on him.

As the duo went to the counter the current cashier was about to take a break and out comes his replacement, someone who Y/N would not have expected to work here.

"Oh Eunbi unnie welcome back Oh! and Y/N oppa, what are you doing here?" the duck looking girl squealed. To say Y/N was shocked is an understatement. His girlfriend's former members, his friends, were all so familiar with this place.

"I was showing Y/N around the store, he needed my help" Responded the eldest. "Oppa is Sakura unnie giving you a hard time?" Yena responded, causing Y/N to shrink into himself in embarrassment. 

The girl started scanning the products one by one, her curious eyes glanced back and forth from y/n and each product he bought. "I didn't think Sakura unnie would be into this, I guess she's less of a prude than I thought" At this point Y/N just wanted to leave, he slightly hid behind his noona as she started placing her own products she wanted to buy. 

"I’ll pay for it Y/N I get a discount here, just pay me back after" Y/N nodded before Eunbi tapped her card and they both left with Yena waving to them, saying that they should visit her again.

With his purchases in hand, Y/N left the shop feeling embarrassed about the whole situation but he thought about the end goal and it made him feel more confident than ever. This was his chance to break through the monotony that had settled between them.

Later that evening, back in their shared apartment, Sakura was already in the midst of her nightly streaming routine. Her set up was in the living room, per Y/N's request after waking him up way too many times. It was bathed in the soft glow of the monitor, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across her face as she engaged with her audience. Y/N, his heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and excitement, watched from the shadows, clutching the items he had bought earlier.

He knew exactly what to do.

Grabbing a piece of paper, Y/N quickly scribbled a note and held it up just out of view of the camera, flashing it at Sakura with a grin. The note read: "Since you're so into games, let's play one right now, this will be level one, don't make anything obvious, good luck."

Sakura blinked in confusion at first, her head tilting as she tried to make sense of the message. But when she looked up at Y/N’s playful expression a delicate smile spread across his lips, a knowing look in his eyes. Sakura then glanced down at her stream, her posture adjusting as if nothing had changed, she quickly muted her mic. “ Not now Y/N, I'm busy.” before turning it back on and saying her mic was glitching. But Y/N had spent too long planning this out, spent too much money to turn back now. 

Satisfied with the confusion, Y/N smiled back. The game was on.

Without another word, Y/N crouched and began crawling under the desk. Since her desk was longer than any normal person would normally have, It made the access to the prize easy for him as he just needed to go from the side, his movements smooth and deliberate, hidden from the camera’s view. Sakura’s attention was still on the screen, her voice cheerful as she interacted with her viewers, but Y/N knew it wouldn’t be long before his girlfriend’s focus would shift entirely. Beneath the desk, Y/N felt a rush of excitement as he prepared to introduce a new level of spontaneity into Sakura’s night.

The note had been the first step—a secret shared between them, a playful challenge that only the two of them would understand. What happened next was up to Y/N, and he was ready to make it unforgettable.

Y/N smirked as he slowly slid the small bullet vibrator out of its box, he wiped it with a wet wipe before lifting up the pink short skirt in front of him, He brought the toy up and pressed it against Sakura's panty-covered mound, watching with delight as the Japanese girl jolted slightly in her seat. Sakura tried her best to maintain focus on the video game, determinedly gripping her mouse and keyboard as she attempted to hide her reactions to the subtle vibrations. But Y/N could see right through her act - the way Sakura's thighs clenched together, the slight flush creeping across her cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as her breathing quickened.

To save face Sakura quickly slapped Y/N’s hand away from her wet pussy but Y/n quickly placed it back to its home.

The little vibrator buzzed away, its vibrations transmitted through the thin fabric barrier. Y/N could feel the heat radiating off of Sakura's core, could sense her wetness growing with each passing second. Sakura squirmed almost imperceptibly, fighting the urge to spread her legs further.

Sakura's game character died with a pitiful electronic squeal, breaking the spell. She blinked hard a few times, trying to regain her composure as she struggled to stay focused on the screen. Y/N chuckled quietly, pulling the vibrator away.

Rising up from his spot on the floor under the desk, Y/N made sure that he was holding eye contact with Sakura the whole way. Sakura's eyes widened as Y/N made a show of slowly swiping his fingers on the toy before rubbing them together and slowly pulling them apart a slick line of the idols juices were connecting Y/Ns fingers showing her that even though she's against it, her body doesn't lie. Y/N’s fingers were brought to his lips, eye contact still not breaking and in an exaggerated motion he licked her fingers clean. Sakura quickly glanced away, her face burning crimson now, but she couldn't keep her eyes from peeking back at Y/N. A shaky exhale escaped her lips.

Y/N just winked before reaching for a piece of paper that read Level 2 commencing before crawling back to her side of the desk, leaving Sakura even more flustered and distracted, though trying her best to play it cool. Y/N made a mental note - Sakura was even more responsive than expected. This was going to be fun indeed...

The next level involved the G-spot vibrating dildo, escalating the intensity. There was only one small thing blocking his way, deciding to deal with it he wrapped his fingers around her panties before giving it a quick and powerful tug completely ripping them. The sound loud enough to catch Sakura off guard. Shocked, the idol’s hand instinctively reached down, her fingertips brushing her now bare, wet pussy. She inhaled sharply, her body reacting to the sudden exposure, but she didn’t dare glance away from the screen.

Y/N teased her relentlessly, his fingers circling her entrance before finally pushing the toy into her slick cunt. He moved it slowly at first, letting her adjust to the sensation, feeling her muscles tighten around the intrusion. Sakura’s hand gripped her mouse tighter, her knuckles whitening as she fought to keep her composure. She nearly missed a key on her keyboard, her body betraying her as Y/N expertly played with her, pulling the toy out just as she neared the edge of release.

Her breath came in shallow, uneven pants. The subtle strain in her voice didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N, who watched with a smirk, knowing just how close she was to losing control. Yet, he denied her the satisfaction of climax, bringing her to the edge again and again only to retreat, leaving her desperate and aching.

“Fuck,” Sakura muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible as she tried to focus on her stream. Her viewers, blissfully unaware of the torment unfolding beneath her desk, cheered her on in the game, oblivious to the real game being played just out of sight.

Y/N pulled the toy away once more, but this time, Sakura couldn't hold back her frustration. "Ahh, what the fuck" she whispered harshly, trying to control her reaction. She couldn’t look down to see what he was doing, not without giving herself away on camera. She tried to push through the absence, hoping Y/N would relent, but the moment stretched on.

And then, without warning, Y/N switched the vibrations onto its highest setting and plunged it back into her, the thick dildo buried deep inside her clenching cunt, the toy felt around and lived up to its name, pressing on that spot she loved.

"AHHHH!" Sakura’s cry pierced the quiet of the room, her pussy convulsing around the toy as an intense orgasm overtook her. She barely had time to mute her mic, her thighs trembling and squeezing together, her stomach contracting as wave after wave of electric pleasure crashed over her. Her body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alight with sensation

Her game character spun wildly on screen, her mouse jerking out of control as her body seized up. Her viewers, concerned but unsuspecting, quickly flooded the chat with messages.

"Are you okay? What happened?" one asked.

"You just screamed like you saw a ghost, lol," commented another, oblivious to the real reason behind her outburst.

Sakura’s cheeks burned with humiliation. They had heard her, but thankfully they couldn’t know the truth—how their sweet, innocent idol was secretly being driven to the brink of madness by her boyfriend under the desk. With a shaky breath, she forced a laugh. "Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I thought I saw a bug under the desk," she lied, her voice higher than usual, the embarrassment clear. "You know how I get when it comes to bugs!"

Her viewers, still clueless, accepted the explanation, laughing along with her as they playfully scolded her for getting so worked up over something so trivial. But Sakura’s mind was far from the stream now. The aftershocks of her orgasm still rippled through her, and she bit her lip hard, willing her body to calm down. The irony wasn’t lost on her—here she was, playing the role of their wholesome crush while secretly being ravaged by Y/N just out of sight.

Satisfied for the moment, Y/N leaned in and gave her sensitive pussy a slow, teasing lick, sending another shiver through her body. Her thighs trembled, clenching around his head as his tongue worked its magic. She didn’t want to admit how much she missed this—missed him—but the pleasure coursing through her veins made it impossible to deny. He left a final lingering kiss against her soaked lips before pulling away, leaving her panting and desperate for more.

As Y/N stood, he reached for the final toy in his collection, pulling the rabbit-ear vibrator from his bag. His fingers traced the packaging—Rabbit Ear Toy: Maximum Clitoral Stimulation—and a grin spread across his face. The playful sparkle in his eyes revealed his mischievous intent, recalling how Eunbi had enthusiastically recommended this particular device. With a small chuckle, he knew this would be the perfect grand finale to their secret, unspoken game.

Y/N scribbled a quick note—Level three, good luck—and slid it over to Sakura. Her gaze flicked to him, and their eyes met briefly. A silent exchange of both anticipation and trepidation passed between them. The tension hung thick in the air, a blend of excitement and nerves that only heightened the moment. Sakura’s cheeks flushed as her fingers hovered over the keyboard, pretending to remain focused on the game, but her attention was split, knowing what was coming next.

As Y/N shifted back into his familiar spot under the desk, his breath hitched in anticipation. It had become his little domain, a place where he could send Sakura into oblivion without her viewers being any the wiser. He carefully unwrapped the vibrator—an egg-shaped toy, compact but powerful. The soft, flexible rabbit ears promised an intensity that could tip her over the edge with just the right pressure. His hands, steady and deliberate, moved between her legs, teasing her for a moment. The toy slipped between her folds, refusing to cooperate at first, but Y/N’s persistence paid off. He finally nestled it perfectly in place, the rabbit ears snugly embracing her clit.

For a second, he paused. The anticipation in the room grew thick as Sakura shifted in her chair, her breaths shallow. The tension between them felt electric. Y/N knew what this small delay would do to her—he was prolonging the inevitable, letting her body crave the release that was just out of reach. Then, with a press of the button, the vibrator buzzed to life.

The effect was immediate. A surge of pleasure ripped through Sakura’s body, her muscles tensing as the toy began its relentless rhythm. She bit down hard on her lower lip, trying desperately not to give herself away. The overwhelming sensation sent waves of heat cascading from her core, and her hands trembled as they hovered over her mouse and keyboard, trying to maintain some semblance of control. Her breath came in short, shallow bursts, her body writhing ever so slightly, desperate to remain still for the camera.

Her chat lit up with messages of encouragement. Her viewers had no clue the real battle she was fighting—the one between maintaining her composure and succumbing to the pleasure that was quickly unraveling her. The boss fight on screen grew more intense, each phase of the battle requiring her utmost focus, but her concentration wavered with every flick of the vibrator against her clit. It was nearly impossible to think, let alone execute precise game mechanics, as the rabbit ears worked her over with merciless efficiency.

Sakura whispered to herself, “Y-You’ve got this, Sakura!” Her voice was strained, too high-pitched to mask her struggle, but she plastered on a wide smile for her audience. Her hands shook violently now as they moved across the keyboard, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of the game. Her pulse raced in sync with the toy, the pleasure mounting to unbearable levels.

The boss’s health bar ticked down in sync with her endurance, her every keystroke becoming sloppier, more frantic. As the final blow landed and the boss collapsed in defeat, Sakura could no longer hold back. Her body convulsed as the climax hit her like a tidal wave. A guttural shout escaped her lips as she slammed her hands down on the desk, her voice cracking with a blend of triumph and carnal release.

“YESSSS!!” she screamed, her eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving with the force of the orgasm that ripped through her. Her muscles clenched, and her toes curled as the vibrator continued its assault, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure until she was utterly spent.

Her viewers erupted into cheers, congratulating her on the hard-earned victory. Oblivious to the real reason behind her breathlessness and the flush on her face, they celebrated her skill and persistence. The screen flashed with messages of admiration, and Sakura forced herself to sit up, her body trembling with the aftershocks.

“Whew… that was intense!” she gasped, wiping away the sheen of sweat on her forehead. Her hand reached for her water glass, her fingers still trembling slightly as she took a long, much-needed drink. “Thanks for cheering me on, guys,” she added with a weak laugh, masking the exhaustion coursing through her.

As Sakura leaned back in her chair, Scrolling through other games to hopefully find a good one to end the night, Y/N, who had been patiently watching her recovery, wasn’t quite done yet. A devilish grin played on his lips as he leaned forward, his finger hovering over the vibrator’s controls. Without warning, he cranked the toy up to its highest setting.

The sudden jolt of the vibrator sent Sakura reeling. Her body stiffened, eyes widening in shock as the intensity of the stimulation threatened to unravel her all over again. Her breath hitched in her throat as her muscles tensed, gripping the arms of her chair to ground herself. Y/N’s laughter echoed softly from beneath the desk, watching her fight the new wave of pleasure with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction.

Sakura, the ever-composed streamer, found herself on the precipice of a new kind of experience. The powerful vibrations of the new toy sent shivers through her body, a primal force that ignited a wildfire of anticipation within her. Her body responded with a raw, undeniable intensity, the moisture building until it seeped through her folds, dripping off the chair and leaving a glistening trail on the floor. The sweet scent of candles that once permeated the room was quickly overtaken by the pungent aroma of her arousal, a testament to the burgeoning passion that consumed her.

As the pleasure reached its crescendo, a surge of instinct took over. With lightning-fast reflexes, Sakura muted her microphone and switched off her camera, craving the sanctuary of privacy for the intimate storm that was about to break. The online world faded away, and she surrendered completely to the throes of ecstasy.

The timing was impeccable. As Sakura neared her peak, Y/N, her boyfriend, seized the moment. He seamlessly combined the pleasure of the vibrator with the intimacy of his mouth, diving forward with a ravenous hunger. His tongue explored the depths of her, savoring her taste and fueling the fire that burned within her. Each flick and swirl of his tongue sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through her body, pushing her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

The combined sensations were too much for her to bear, and with an animalistic moan escaped Sakura's lips, a guttural sound intertwined with a scream that seemed to rise from the very core of her being. "UGH FUCK YEEESSSS Y/N!" Her voice was a raw expression of unrestrained pleasure. She grasped his hair, her body convulsing in a wave of ecstasy. Her legs lifted and wrapped around him pulling his face impossibly close to her core, her muscles contracting and relaxing with each tremor, the old gaming chair squeaking in protest with every movement. Her cheeks flushed a vibrant hue, a visible marker of her heightened state as she rode the wave of her orgasm with unbridled abandon, her breasts heaving with each ragged breath. Sakura climaxed with a force that left her breathless and trembling. Y/N continued his ministrations, prolonging her orgasm until she felt every ounce of pleasure.

For Y/N, the experience was both exhilarating and intensely intimate. He couldn't see anything; his vision was blocked by Sakura's body. Each subtle movement sent shivers down his spine—her soft skin felt warm and alive against him, her thighs encasing his head in a passionate vice that was as constricting as it was pleasurable. it was just the two of them, enveloped in a cocoon of heat and desire.

This was a Sakura he rarely saw, one that lay hidden behind the carefully curated persona of her online streams. In those moments, she had shed the facade of the cheerful, bubbly entertainer and revealed a side of herself that was raw and unfiltered. It was the Sakura from before her streaming career, the girl who had always been playful and spontaneous, exuding an authentic vulnerability that left him breathless. Her laughter echoed in the confines of his mind as he realized how seldom he’d had the chance to witness this intimate version of her.

The chaos of streaming and the demands of her audience faded into the background, replaced by a potent chemistry that crackled between them. His own heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drum echoing the urgency of the moment, while his breath hitched at the raw display of passion and surrender before him. Every heartbeat was a reminder of how deeply and irrevocably he craved this connection.

This moment carved a permanent mark on him, etching itself into his memory like a secret tattoo. It was a reminder of the beautiful, complex dynamics that fueled their relationship—beyond the streaming lights and scripted interactions lay a blend of affection, longing, and a hint of danger. Their souls intertwined in this rare instance, revealing as much about their hearts as it did about their desires. The very essence of their bond lay anchored in these fleeting but fervent exchanges, making each encounter a treasure and a risk he was willing to embrace.

Sakura's breath came in ragged gasps as she slowly released her hold on Y/N, her legs trembling, weak from the intense stimulation. The room seemed to amplify all her senses, the cooling sensation of sweat mingling with her skin a stark contrast to the recent heat. Her legs, barely able to support her, struggled to find their footing as she fought to regain her composure. The assistant to her pleasure, the formidable toy that had helped push her to the edge of chaotic bliss, lay on the floor, a glistening reminder of the storm that had just passed. Its surface, coated in her essence, served as a tangible testament to her unleashed passion.

Realizing that her momentary loss of control had severed her connection with her viewers, Sakura quickly attempted to regain her composure. Her cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. But before she could complete the act of resuming, Y/N’s steady hand came to rest against her thigh, gently halting her fidgeting. Kneeling between her legs, his tall frame allowing him to almost come face to face with her, their eyes meeting in a moment that felt both electric and profoundly intimate.

Sakura's mind swirled with a haze of emotions, a flicker of melancholy washing over her like a soft tide. She missed these moments—the brief interludes where they could shed their roles and embrace a deeper connection, where laughter and genuine emotion melded seamlessly into something more. Each stolen glance, every shared laugh had been a thread weaving them closer, and yet, amidst the chaos of their lives, she felt those threads fraying, slipping through her fingers like grains of sand.

In that heavy silence, Y/N reached for her, his fingers warm as they gently cupped the back of her head. There was no need for words; his eyes spoke volumes, conveying understanding and longing in a single gaze. Then, with a tenderness that sent shivers down her spine, he leaned in and sealed their lips together in a passionate kiss. The flavors of her arousal mingled with saliva—a delicious, intoxicating symphony that danced on their tongues, each movement igniting a fire deep within her core.

Sakura was momentarily consumed by the warmth of his embrace, every worry dissolving into the sweet elixir of their connection. But as the kiss lingered, her heart raced at the thought of what lay beyond this moment. Still lost in the afterglow, Sakura whimpered softly when Y/N finally pulled away, his lips brushing against hers gently as they parted. His gaze held her captive, a silent promise lingering in the space between them, but it only deepened her desire, leaving her craving more.

This was the testament to their bond—a connection that blossomed amidst the chaos of her storm, a lingering whisper of hope amid uncertainty. She knew she couldn’t let this slip through her fingers again, not when they had ventured into a territory that felt so beautifully raw and undeniably real.

But as the seasoned entertainer she was, she corrected her streaming gadget, turning her webcam back on and adjusting her microphone. Her face, still flushed from her recent exertion and her lips swollen, was now contorted into an apologetic smile as she addressed her audience, hiding the true reason behind her sudden departure by blaming it on unpredictable internet issues.

"Sorry about that, guys," she panted, her voice slightly uneven with the remnants of her peak. "We had a little technical glitch," she continued, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous hint that was not quite caught by her virtual audience.

The chat, a flurry of messages, was filled with questions and mild irritation. Her viewers were curious, their previous excitement now shifted to suspicion and a growing sense of doubt . They wondered what had caused such a sudden disruption. Yet, despite their curiosity, they respected her privacy, unwilling to push for explanations that she was not willing to give until she was ready. In their minds, the truth of her interruptions could often be their most decadent fantasies, creating an air of mystique and allure around her that kept them coming back for more. Sakura, a master of her craft, knew how to keep her audience hooked, turning even a glitch into a potential performance enhancement, as her viewers' imaginations filled in the blanks left by their sudden disconnection.

Y/N, with an air of mystery swirling about him, gracefully emerged from under the desk, his presence suddenly filling the room with an electric energy. As if appearing from the shadows, he moved with a fluidity that captivated Sakura, drawing her gaze irresistibly. From his vantage point behind the monitor, Y/N's eyes met Sakura's, a hint of mischief dancing in their depths.

His movements were deliberate, with a rhythm that matched the beating of Sakura's heart, as if he were conducting an intimate dance where only the two of them could hear the music. The fact that he planned this whole thing gave Sakura a warm feeling. The remnants of their shared passion became a declaration of love, a promise of intimacy, and a reaffirmation of their bond.

Satisfied with his thorough work, Y/N offered Sakura a look, his eyes darting back and forth from Sakura and a bag that was placed just to the side. A secretive smile playing upon his lips. It was a silent challenge, an invitation for Sakura to join him in their next adventure. Turning away, he walked calmly towards the bedroom.

As he cleaned the toys and meticulously arranged them in their new resting place, the nightstand, Y/N took the time to appreciate the small details of their shared space. The nightstand, once merely a piece of furniture with no purpose, now held a whole new meaning, a symbol of their intimate connection.

Sakura remained seated, her breath catching in her throat as Y/N disappeared into the shadows of the bedroom. The atmosphere lingered with a charged energy, the room still humming from the intensity of their shared moment. Sakura’s mind raced, replaying the image of Y/N’s mischievous smile, his teasing, deliberate movements, and the unspoken promise that hung in the air like a secret waiting to be unraveled.

For a moment, Sakura sat frozen, the temptation pulling her forward. She felt a surge of warmth radiate through her, a tug towards the bedroom where Y/N awaited, his presence as enticing as ever. The weight of their connection, unspoken but deeply understood, anchored her as she ended the stream and rose from her seat.

Sakura’s eyes fell to the bag on the floor, under the coffee table, its presence both familiar and intriguing. She had seen Y/n walk in with it  earlier but hadn’t given it much thought in the midst of her stream. Now, as the evening light dimmed into twilight and the apartment grew quieter, curiosity took over. Slowly, she bent down, her fingers brushing against the soft fabric of the bag as she picked it up. It was a simple gesture, yet it sent a ripple of anticipation through her. 

Peeling back the wrapping, her breath caught when her eyes landed on the contents. A stunning set of lingerie lay folded neatly inside, the color immediately striking her—her favorite color. The rich, silky fabric shimmered slightly in the low light, delicate lace tracing intricate patterns along its edges. She lifted it out of the bag, feeling the cool smoothness of the material slip between her fingers. The fabric felt luxurious, softer than she imagined, and as she held it up, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

Y/N had remembered.

In the whirlwind of their lives, it wasn’t often that someone paid attention to the small details, but Y/N always had a way of doing just that. Not just any lingerie, but a set that spoke to her tastes, a color that made her feel powerful, beautiful, sexy. The care and thoughtfulness behind it warmed her from the inside, the kind of warmth that settled deep, in the quiet places of the heart.

Sakura didn't waste time, a surge of excitement bubbling up inside her. Without even heading to the bathroom, she began to undress right there in the middle of the living room. Her body was sore, every muscle aching from the games “levels”, but the thrill of the moment outweighed the discomfort. She moved slowly, peeling away the layers of her clothing, and as each piece fell to the floor, she felt lighter. Her breath hitched when the cool air of the room brushed against her bare skin.

Pulling the lingerie up over her legs, she marveled at how perfectly it fit, as if it had been crafted just for her. The lace clung to her curves in all the right places, accentuating her figure in a way that made her feel both strong and undeniably feminine. She caught a glimpse of herself in the nearby mirror and paused for a moment. The reflection staring back at her was striking—she looked lovely and powerful. The fatigue that had settled into her bones seemed to dissipate, replaced by an invigorating energy, one that thrummed beneath her skin like a quiet storm ready to break.

Her gaze shifted from the mirror to the slightly ajar bedroom door, and that’s when she felt it. The pull. It was almost magnetic, an invisible force drawing her toward Y/N. There had always been something between them ever since they met, something more than words or physical attraction. It was an unspoken connection, a shared intimacy that went beyond the surface of things. Y/N had a way of turning even the smallest gestures into something profound. A simple gift of lingerie wasn’t just a gift; it was a conversation, an invitation, a reminder of the bond they shared.

Sakura’s heart raced as she stood at the threshold of the bedroom, her hand resting lightly on the doorframe. From where she stood, she could see Y/N’s silhouette bathed in the soft, golden glow of the bedside lamp. The room itself was dim, quiet, filled with the gentle hum of the night outside. Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, focused. There was a look in his gaze—one that she knew well. Mischief, affection, desire, all wrapped into one.

Her breath caught again, but this time it wasn’t the cold air or the tightness of the lingerie. It was the way Y/N looked at her. As if she were the only thing in the world that mattered in that moment. As if the night was theirs and theirs alone.

Without breaking eye contact, Sakura stepped inside the room, her bare feet soundless against the wooden floor. The door clicked shut behind her, the soft sound echoing in the quiet. It was as if the outside world ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them in the cocoon of their own making. The air between them was thick with anticipation, with the unspoken promise of what was to come.

Y/N didn’t move, didn’t say a word. His gaze traveled over her slowly, taking in the sight of her standing before him in the delicate lace and silk he had chosen. The corner of his mouth lifted in a small, appreciative smile, but there was something deeper in his eyes—a smoldering intensity that made her heart skip a beat.

She moved closer, the space between them shrinking with every step. Her own breathing had become shallow, her pulse quickening in response to the heat building between them. It wasn’t just about the physical desire; it was the emotional weight of everything they had shared, everything they had been through together, all condensed into this one, intimate moment.

Sakura reached the edge of the bed, standing just before him, her body illuminated by the soft, golden light. Y/N reached out, his hand gently grazing her thigh, his fingers brushing over the delicate lace. His touch was light, teasing, sending a shiver up her spine. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation, the feeling of his skin against hers.

He had given her so much today, endless pleasures each one more intense than the last. But now, as she stood before him, she knew the time had come, it was his turn. She smiled, slow and teasing, as her fingers toyed with the straps of the lingerie. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear, her voice a soft whisper filled with promise.

"You’ve given me so many gifts today baby. Now it’s your turn to unwrap your present." 

She gave him multiple kisses from his neck to his cheek, ending with a needy one on his lips.

“Since you're so into games, let's play one right now,” her words mimicking those that started this whole thing.

The night had just begun, filled with endless possibilities Sakura's situation mirrored her favorite games. She had failed multiple times but knew that this was a fresh start, an extra life, With a smile she positioned herself face to face with his crotch and pulled down Y/N's pants exposing his member, she gave the tip a quick kiss and lick, before reminding him that singing was not the only thing her mouth was used for.

Miyawaki Sakura was back on level one.

[tsuutarr]

Concept: Yandere!Alice in Wonderland Characters (but it's only the White Rabbit for this piece) x Reader

“Wake up! Please, wake up!”

At the desperate call of the static-laden voice, your eyes groggily open. Your head hurts, thrumming with heavy noise. The artificial lights are too bright and yellow, staining your vision like aged-paper. It makes your headache worse.

“Oh no, are you ill?” a voice teeters. Face scrunched, you look up to see a screen hanging over you. A small image of a pixelated white rabbit flickers on and off. “Oh no, oh no… we’re so behind schedule…”

“What…” you being, head swirling. You don’t understand where you are or what’s happening. You don’t even really remember anything, for that matter. It makes you feel sick.

“Ah, I’m really sorry,” the pixelated rabbit apologizes, looking quite guilty. “Yes, yes, it’s quite a lot to take in…” 

Before you know it, the screen the pixelated rabbit is on moves closer to you. The blue light is bright, making you squint.

“Hello, [Alice],” it greets you softly. “My name is WH173-R48817, though most call me White Rabbit or White.”

“My name isn’t [Alice].” You’re not sure where that statement came from, but it feels wrong to be referred to as [Alice].

“Ah… Ah, yes, certainly,” White’s voice murmurs.“Apologies. What would you like to be called?”

You tell White a name – you’re not entirely sure where that name came from, but it feels right.

“Understood. I will refer to you as such.” With a comforting smile, White continues. “Now, as I was saying… I am the White Rabbit System, an AI system that helps manage things in this lab.”

“A lab?”

“Yes,” White responds. “We are currently in a laboratory.” 

Your eyes flicker around the room and it’s quite obvious now that you are, in fact, in a lab-like place. You’re comfortably resting on a surgery bed as jars of… body parts line the shelves around you.

“You are a part of the Wonderland Project as the most successful participant. Now that you’ve regained consciousness, we must exit the starting point.”

You stare at White blankly, its words doing very little to reveal anything substantial to you. However, White is far too frazzled to properly listen to you, going on its own little tangent. You didn’t think an AI could be so… anxious. 

“We’re already quite late!” it frets while you eye it. The screen White is on is embedded into some device on the wall. You doubt the device will be able to move outside of the room.

“How are you going to exit this place?” you ask. 

“Ah, look at me, being a klutz,” it sighs, somehow looking bashful despite being an AI. “A moment, please.” And just like that, the screen it was displayed on flickers off, the blue light fading away. Momentarily, you’re stunned, until you hear the soft footfalls approaching you. You turn your head to see a tall man with bunny ears.

“Greetings,” he says. His voice sounds like White’s, though a little deeper and more human. “I wondered which form would be the most efficient, and decided that this one would work best.”

“What.”

He continues walking closer to you as he talks. “I have a few bodies that I can connect my programming to. This is one of them.” When he finally reaches you, you can see how tall he is. He’s rather lanky and thin, but his height is enough to be intimidating. “Pardon me. I’m not that fond of touching others myself, but I have no choice,” he mutters, before reaching for you and cradling you in his arms faster than you can process what’s going on. “Hold on to me. We are quite behind schedule.”

“Behind schedule? For what?”

“The continuation of the Wonderland Project, of course.”

“And why exactly do I have to be a part of this project?”

White peers down at you curiously. “Well, isn’t it obvious?” he asks. “Because you’re the most important key, of course. We need you.”

With that, he leaves the room with you in his arms.

[sweetimpurity]

☽༓･˚⁺‧͙ day 11! yayayy! I blacked out for this one 🥵

wc: 2.2k cw: bondage, breeding ;) enjoy!! ☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

“Shit…” He sighs. Running a hand through his hair, the talons peeking out slightly. They’ve been coming out and going back in all day, little pin pricks aching at his fingertips. Sensitive when he touches anything, pissing him off. Like he can’t control it. He’s been cooped up in his office all day. 

“Lyla. Update.” He demands in monotone, brow furrowed and focusing on the levels and charts on the holographic screen in front of him. The hovering pixels refresh as the levels increase and decrease. Numbers calculating. “They’re on their way back… just finishing some cleanup.” She replies. Hovering over his desk before settling, ‘leaning’ on a coffee mug from a few days ago. He hasn’t done anything, hasn’t eaten or drank anything since you left on that damn mission three days ago.  He should have remembered. That this specific time would have him aching for you. And now you’ve been gone. It’s his own damn fault and he’s been beating himself up over it. Feeling heavy, feverish, angry. He’s been tracking his levels every hour. Hormones and brain activity. Why must his warped genetics plague him in this way?

“Lyla I…I thought the serum was supposed to help…” He sighs, brow twitching, eyes closing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “It will… but you only took one dose. It’ll be more effective after a few more.” She replies. Watching him with a raised brow. His behavior. 

He sighs again, a slight growl in the back of his throat. Pacing back and forth on his platform and crossing his beefy arms, like trapping his restless hands under them. Finally sitting down in his chair. His legs spread wide. It’s the only way with the pressure in his loins. With the need to be released. He’s in rut. As embarrassing as it is. And you’re not here. It’s like the perfect storm. 

“Oh- just landed…” Lyla chirps, popping up by him and displaying the portal chamber surveillance footage right in front of his face. Too close to his face, lighting his angry features up in a yellow glow. “Lyla!” He growls, trying to grab at her pixelated form. His hand went right through. But his eyes finally land on your form. Walking through the main portal alongside some other spider people. The team he sent you with. You’ve just entered the building and he can already smell you. Your pheromones. You’re floors and floors down and he’s already getting hard. The pressure in his suit tightening. “Lyla. Go.” 

She giggles. Floating around, teasing him. She’s all too familiar with his behavior by now. She puts up with so much. “Have fun, bossman…” She snarks, her hologram dissipating in front of his frowny face. A huff of relief leaving him once she’s gone. Leaving him alone. Waiting for you. 

He groans. The ache. His cock hard and hurting for you. Glancing over his shoulder at the door. Not yet. His hands go down, cupping his erection, only to whine softly at the pain he inflicts. Just the smallest of touches and he’s keeling over in his desk chair. “Ay… Fuck…” He sighs. Sharp canines biting down hard on his lip.

“Heyyyy!” Your voice breaks through the silence of his office. Your scent is stronger than ever when you push the door open. The stimulation goes straight to his dick, like it’s begging for your heat. Begging to be soothed in your slick warmth. Desperate to fill you up. To mate. To breed you. 

“Oh my god, you should have seen me out there… I was pretty good if I do say so myself… got the bad guy and all that. Even got a few common crooks while we were staking out…” You explain, jumping up on his platform. Bringing the box of equipment to his desk and setting it down. It’ll need to be cleaned and assessed. Some pieces to be fixed before they go back in rotation. 

His eyes darken. Watching you walk by. He’s glad you’re back. Of course. He loves you. But his mind isn’t on that right now. Right now he’s thinking about how good you’d look swollen and full of his babies. Full of his cock. Dripping with his potent seed. 

“Ben was a perfect alternative, he stepped in and really helped us out… Peter thought so too…” You keep going. Going over everything that happened over the past few days. “That’s… good…” He manages to say. His voice low and hushed, a croak. Watching your back, your ass. Moving from behind the chair, standing a few feet behind you now. He swallows hard. 

You glance up at his screens. He must have been busy as always. Keeping himself busy. Your hands slow down as you place machinery pieces on his desk from the mission supply. Spider senses tingling. 

In a matter of seconds, he’s pressing up against you. His chest against your back and his nose burying in your hair, in your neck. Inhaling your scent. His hearing picks up on the rise in your heart rate. The way you react to him. 

“Missed me, hm?” You hum, smiling and leaning into him. 

“More than you know…” He huffs. Pressing himself into your ass. Letting you feel just how needy he is. Your suspicions were correct. It’s that time again. Your senses never let you down. 

“That’s good because I missed you…” You whisper. Coaxing him. Leaning your head back on his shoulder. Letting him grind into your ass. Rubbing his erection into the soft plushness. And you hear the releases of breath from his lips, like he’s been pent up so long. “I love you…” He whispers by your ear. One of his big hands wrapping around, splaying across your tummy, imagining himself burying deep, all the way to your womb. 

“I love you too…” You can’t help but smile, rubbing back against him, hearing the slight hiss at the back of his throat. “Remember that…” He hums, something of a warning. The words stir something inside you. And you know what’s to come. This kind of fuck only comes once in a blue moon. Because normal Miguel would never allow himself to be so cruel. 

“Remember.” He hums in your ear. Turning dials on his watch this whole time. Smashing the screen and your suit instantly retracts. The confrontation of the cold on your skin makes you shiver. It’s too much for him. Your scent is stronger than ever. His dick leaking and crying to be inside you already. A strong hand on your back pushes you down to the desk. Tits smooshing and tummy contracting on the cold glass surface. A shiver and gasp filling your body. His hands work fast. White stringy webs leaving his wrists. Letting them bind and wrap around you. Working them around your torso, across your breasts. His webs, decorating your skin, wrapping you up. He wraps them around your wrists like ropes, only stronger, harder to break. Beautiful web designs scatter along your arms, wrapped around your body like a fly in a spider’s web. Like you’re the spider’s final meal. A loud thwip and he’s mounting webs on two opposite walls, letting it connect to your arms and spreading them wide. You can’t escape, you can barely move. Hanging, dangling, ever so slightly. With only the desk under your belly for support. But then there’s his hands. 

His big warm hands, suddenly bare of his suit. His dark tanned skin, fingers running up your hips, down your ass and delivering a gentle smack. Making you whine. Your pussy aching for him at this point. And he can smell it. He can smell your slick, he can almost taste it in the air. Like a drug he knows by taste alone. It’s taking all his willpower not to pound into you just yet. But the rut does not cloud his judgment to that extent. He could never forget that he loves you and would never dream of hurting you. Tying you up in his webs, that’s a different story. 

His hand wraps around, fingers running up your slit, parting your folds and collecting your slick on his fingers. Bring the fingertips to his mouth to wet them further, tasting you and groaning. “Oh baby- fuck so good… so so good…” He mumbles, his hand going back down between your thighs and running along your slippery sex. His fingers teasing your hole before plunging inside. Making you shiver and shake. Pulling on the webs you’re restrained in. One finger, then two. Dripping down his fingers and onto the desk. His hormone levels are off the charts. His mind going crazy. Wanting to come. Wanting to spill his seed but needing it to be inside you. He won’t waste it. He needs to get you pregnant.

“Oh Miguel!! Ah! Mm-ngh…!” His fingers work their magic, bringing you to glorious orgasm. Your juices dripping down his knuckles as you moan and whine. The webs straining and tensing under the pressure of your pull. Panting for breath, your knees pulling up and hitting against the edge of his desk. Bent over, tied up and needy for more. 

When you come down from the high, his fingers pull free. Bringing his fingers to his lips. He’s quiet. In a trance. Hazy and half gone and he hasn’t even gotten to the good part yet. His eyes flutter and roll back at the taste of you on his tongue. Sucking on his fingers ravenously and you can only hear the sucking sounds mixed with his groans. Crimson eyes blowing wide, bashing his watch for his suit to disappear entirely. Instantly grinding his hard, pulsing dick along your puffy pussy. Teasing his tip around your entrance and sucking on his fingers like it soothes him. Pacifies his ache even a little bit. 

“Baby- babe you want… I want- you’re so good, baby, taste so good…” He murmurs incoherently, whining. Pushing his cock through your folds, up to your clit, making your toes curl, knees drawing up. Wrapping your hands around the webs binding you. “Ngh just take it all, okay? I’ll fill you up and-and… and… Dios…ah, te amo tanto… no puedo vivir sin ti…” He whimpers. The softness of your pussy against his needy tip makes him crumble. Keeling over and pressing his mouth to your shoulder. Massaging his dick through your slick. Savoring the feeling for a moment longer. “Ay mami…” 

He bites down on your shoulder. Using his fingers to guide his cock to your core and slipping in. His brain short circuiting at the tight wet pressure. “Fuck!” He growls, instantly spurting hot white. His voice hoarse and needy. Grabbing your hips in the front and pushing in all the way to the hilt. Pushing you up the desk, the webs straining as your arms pull. His body practically mounting yours. Stretching you out on his girth in one go. Pulling a shrill cry from your lips, moaning at the warmth flooding your belly. “Ngh-Miguel! Ohhhh….”

“Oh yes…” He hisses. Finding relief in final release. Who gives a shit if he didn’t get two pumps in before it happened. He’ll pump you with much more cum before the night is over.  

He pulls back, drawing aching whimpers from your lips. Trying to soothe you with kisses to your shoulder blades, your neck. Collecting your hair into his hand and gently pulling back. Moaning as he does it. And he plunges back in, molding you around his cock. Slipping in easier with his cum loosening you up. “T-todo lo que siempre he necesitado, mami…” His sweet words make your heart flutter. His face tucking into your neck from behind as he pumps into you.  

Moaning as he pulls back again and thrusts back in deep. Working up a rhythm, holding your hair back. His other hand wraps around to your clit, rubbing with tenderness in a stark contrast to his powerful pumps. Webs straining, the tension threatening to break the strands as you cry out for him. Legs shaking and trembling. His own moans are broken and hoarse. Full of need and desperation. All he can think of is filling you up. His cum, his DNA tainting you, mixing with yours. Making babies. Lots of them. The image of you full of his children makes him crazy. “You’ll be such a pretty mami, baby… so pretty, so so so…” He pants. His hips slapping your ass with every push, like wild animals in the jungle. His spider half taking over completely. Your soft whimpering moans fill his ears. His words shooting right to your core, making your eyes roll back and gushing on him. Crying out for him and the webs snap! Your arms dropping and you’d fall flat on the desk if he didn't grab you in time. Pulling you to his chest, pumping into you even faster. Climbing up on the desk and kneeling down for leverage. Pushing your body down to arch for him. Pounding into you with unending power. Even after you come, he doesn’t stop. Pulling one more trembling orgasm from you before he’s spurting once more. Filling you just like he promised. Finally stopping with a huff. His mind mostly gone but there’s part of him left, just for you. 

“You okay, mama? Look at me…” He whispers, turning you over gently. Admiring that look on your face. That fucked out smile. “Te amo… needa make sure it sticks…” 

Taglist!! love my sweeties!

@spooky-sculder

@slushycoookie @xxyaoi-nationxx @snails-doodles22 @scaryplanetdestroyer @fate13

@divorcepaperz @yeahnohoneybye @zaunsin @tomalymme @drefear

@mrs-pondwater19 @saintdiior @aphinthestars @hyjionie

@palomanh @maxad99 @muuuwoppppp

if you'd like to be added/dropped from the taglist, please comment on my masterlist post. Or else I might not see it! thank you! 🩷

[splatoonpolls]

a really long analysis about fanon Marina and the flanderization by fandom she has gotten

fanon marina (the version created by the fans) mainly focuses on two things, her being autistic coded and her being basically confirmed to be a lesbian. And I do think this has to do with her being VERY much like a typical splatoon fan in many people’s eyes. Her being a nerdy queer neurodivergent person. This is also why other parts, especially her relationship with her being an octoling gets often locked away. Subconsciously at least

if Marina was a book, several chapters would focus on her identity as a dome octoling. Her being autistic would probably pop up here and there, but it wouldn’t be a whole chapter. But her very much gay relationship with Pearl would definitely have a few chapters. But with people focusing on those few lines and chapters rather than the whole book. People would slowly ignore the other chapters, get shocked like Adam Sandler learning Pac-Man was the bad guy in the hit movie pixels.

the splatoon fandom’s western side is mainly white Americans and Europeans. Which is one reason why the fanon Marina doesn’t focus on her identity as an octoling, but also on how many details are not really told to the player. Marina barely shows her ears, which can both be read as her having sensory issues (which is a super valid headcanon(, but also her not feeling super comfortable with her body. With her ears being a reminder of her “you are with people who still think you are only going to steal stuff”. Her tentacles may be weird, she may lack the eyeliner an inkling has. But those things can simply be a stylistic choice. Her ears can’t be one. They are too different. I also know the DLCS focuses more on her identity as a dome octoling. However many can understand how her arc as a whole can be paralleled to the real life experiences of people belonging to marginalized ethnic communities. I also want to point, while writing this. I realized (which many people probably already did). Dome octolings you see outside of the domes (splatoon 2 octolings, Marina, Acht, Paul), are all refugees. They are all characters who grew up in a society that had been shunned for decades, even centuries. That society ended up being oppressive both due to external and internal issues. They know the society they’re living in is no longer a good place to live in. So they escape. Hoping to find a place that will take them on. For agent 8, Marina, and Paul. They found a safe place. Acht wasn’t super lucky however. They were told they could find a “promised land” only to be left in even more ruin before. So not only does Marina’s character arc focus on her being a part of an ethnic minority, but a refugee at that. so why does fanon marina usually avoid that part of her? Well as a mentioned before. Marina has three things that makes her very relatable. While the more backstory focused things are less relatable to a way smaller margin of the splatoon fandom. A way smaller part of the fandom are poc in a very white country. And a very small percentage are refugees.

if we removed Marina’s backstory. We would still be left with the fanon version. A nerdy autistic lesbian who deeply loves Pearl. I love how Nintendo got a game that also isn’t afraid to show a society that cares about queer people if not is queer centric itself. Which is probably why many people cling to that part of Marina. But if we removed that part. What would we be left with? Well, we would have an octoling refugee who is a trained soldier and can create weapons of destructions (and she would still be in love with Pearl, it is an important part of her backstory). im not saying the splatoon fandom’s openness to lgbtq and neurodivergent people is a bad thing just because they boil down one of the most plot heavy characters down to those things. It is actually a really great thing to have a fandom that is open to these marginalized groups.

i just want to say, due to this love for Marina being a character you can relate to. It feels like certain parts of Marina’s character (which can also be very relatable to some) is being drifted away to the more lore centric side of the fandom. Which will lead to a sort of fandom flandarization which is very unintentional and just done due to a love of Marina as a character.

If you’ve read this an disagreed, that is fine. Character writing is a very subjective thing

[pear1escence]

Being Keegan’s girlfriend would entail…𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Keegan p. Russ x fem!reader - explicit

Being David Walker’s girlfriend would entail…

⭒ Late night car rides, driving around town with American oldies playing on the stereo, a cig in your hand nd his gaze shifting from the road to admire you every so often.

⭒ He’s not much for fancy dates, but he loves going out on walks with you. Strolling on beaches in the evening, loves it when you wear pretty skirts that flow with the wind. You might find a nice spot to put down a couple beach towels, share a bottle of wine and some home baked goods.

⭒ The warmth in his veins from the wine combined with your pretty face, he can’t resist kissing you. He’d pull you into his lap, his hand buried in your hair as he kisses you deeply, those delicious groans slipping from his lips as he does so.

⭒ Wouldn’t do beach sex. Sand getting everywhere, eugh. But in the car??

⭒ He’d have you riding him in the front seat, shirt pushed down, lips around your nipple, hands on your hips. He’ll bite just to hear you yelp. Can’t shut up either. He’s not shy of being vocal, groans a lot, the deep, sexy kind of sounds that has your stomach doing a flip.

⭒ Pretty average in length but his cock is thick as hell. Stretches you out so good. Hairy everywhere. Chest, thighs, nether regions. Yum.

⭒ Compliments you a lot, tells you just how pretty you look taking him so well, how good you feel. “Yeah, that’s it babe” “You’re taking it so fuckin’ well, doll” Curses a lot too.

⭒ Ok enough of that😾

⭒ He owns the comfiest, softest tees, the perfect ones to throw on in the morning with only a pair of panties underneath. You’d wear them a lot when he’s gone.

⭒ He thinks of you a lot when he’s deployed. Tries not to, he gets sad thinking of you alone.

⭒ Hugs you so deeply whenever he returns. Those comforting, safe hugs along with murmurs of how badly he’s missed you. Buries your head in the crook of his neck nd strokes your hair softly.

⭒ His heart breaks for you when he sees you cry. He’ll immediately forget about whatever he’s got on his hands. He’ll sit you down and wrap one arm around you, his hand lifting your face towards him as he asks you what the matter is.

⭒ Projecting my daddy issues onto this poor innocent (not) man very hard right now. Pls god I need him so bad

⭒ “Oh, my sweet girl” he’ll murmur, voice low and tinged with sadness, he’ll pull your legs over his lap nd wrap his arms round you tighter.

⭒ He’s very much not the perfect boyfriend, even though he wants to be.

⭒ He has his issues, struggles with PTSD which causes him to be very closed off. He hates opening up, sometimes it’s like there’s spiked wire wrapped around his throat when he tries.

⭒ He rarely seeks you out when he’s down. He can be very avoidant, scared he’ll blow up on you without meaning to. If he does come to you, he won’t talk.

⭒ He almost slumps up from tiredness, prefers it to be in your bed with your fingers drawing slow circles along his back, sweet words of affection nd loving kisses to his head.

⭒ He hates getting angry with you. The Ghosts are far from soft on one another, the rough atmosphere within his team has sometimes traveled over to you as well.

⭒ He’d never lay a hand on you. Never. But he has regrettably raised his voice at you a few times, when he’s really mad. The fear in your eyes causes him to pull back though, nd he’s quick to leave out of guilt.

⭒ He wouldn’t want you to worry for him, shoots you a couple messages about needing to blow off some steam before he takes a long drive to try and clear his mind.

⭒ He’s heavy with guilt and shame once he comes back, very soft with you in the days following.

⭒ You see the guilt in his eyes whenever he looks at you, hear it in the repeated ‘I’m sorry’s he gives you.

⭒ Why did I make this sad all of a sudden. I’m telling you I need to stop projecting my issues onto pixel men😞

I’m not gonna reread this so apologies for any misspelling, this has to be the first time I’ve posted in months?? I’ve been busy wasting time on stan twt 😖 Note - if you liked the angsty part towards the end I have a longer fic with a similar concept, ‘I miss what you’d do to me’

[cozy-writes-things]

if this is something youre comfortable writing,,

I'd love a fic where the reader upsets edgar and then goes super out of their way to make it up to him and apologize ❤️❤️

poor edgar poor reader youre both just misunderstanding each other!! its hard when youre so different i guess >_< thanks so much for the request!! I'm alive!! I still write im just so busy and shtuff TOT i cant help but feel like my fics are getting redundant and i need some kind of inspiration to shake things up

You sat upon the little chair at your desk, the evening sunlight peeking through the windows and illuminating the little specks of dust floating about in the air. Your fingertips tinkered away at the keys of your computer, the non-sentient variant that is, as you filled out multiple job applications throughout the evening. It seemed a fruitless endeavor, but you willed yourself to keep going. You needed the extra income, as your dinky current job seemed to be getting worse by the day, and it wouldn't be long before you either quit or were victim to massive layoffs. 

Get a degree in computer science, they said. What a joke.

Your nerves began to wear you down as you filled out yet another application to another company that would most likely reject you. You could feel your teeth clenching harder, and your shoulders begin to tense. The weight of uncertainty and the fear of rejection were heavy on your shoulders, making you feel vulnerable and exposed.  Edgar sat beside you, perched upon the desk, watching your every move. He seemed to find enough entertainment in it that you didn't mind. His soft voice pulled you from your irritated stupor.

"Can I ask you something?"

You couldn't bring yourself to answer, so you grunted in response, signaling him to continue.

"Do you think a person could ever…" he trailed off, thinking, carefully choosing his following words, "love something like me?"

Your fingers paused on the keys. You stared into the screen until the pixels began to nip and burn at your eyes. Honestly, this was far too deep of a question for you to answer right this second. You sighed heavily before turning to him.

"I mean, Edgar, I guess? Anyone could love you. You just have to find someone willing to-"

You stopped yourself. Maybe you should quit while you're ahead before you say something ignorant. 

"Willing to what?"

Yet he persisted, ever curious as he was; he valued your opinion above all others.

"You know… you're- you're a computer. There's not much you can bring to the table, you know?"

He fell silent. 

Shit, what the hell are you talking about? Why did you say that? Your frustration was palpable, and you could feel it bubbling up inside you, threatening to spill over.

"Oh."

His screen flickered, and his face was replaced with a moving mirage of colors, making you wonder what he could possibly be feeling right now. 

That you're an asshole, probably.

"Yeah. You're right. If I were you, I wouldn't love me, either."

You turned to face him fully now.

"Edgar, no, that's- that- I didn't mean that-"

"No, it's okay! Really, I get it. I mean, I'm not even a good computer by today's standards. How could I ever be a good partner, right?"

His screen flickered red for a minor second in time, a single frame, and, was that the CBS logo? His frame was static and never changing, but he seemed wholly downtrodden and bitter. You could sense it in the air, the electric signals pricking at your fingertips. He had never, ever once been angry with you. But you felt the way he pulled back from you in this instant. He was utterly unreadable, almost as if he were hiding himself from you. You should have known this would upset him so much. He has always been very open in his desperation for romance, confiding in you since day one, hoping and wishing that love would find him. Perhaps squandering those dreams was an oversight on your part. Your eyes fell, unable to look at his dimmed screen. 

"Edgar, I'm sorry, I'm just not feeling good right now, and I-"

"Don't apologize."

"Edgar, please, listen, what I said wasn't even true-"

"YES IT WAS!"

His deafening scream caused you to jump and clamp your mouth shut. It seemed that Edgar was shaken from frustration. His voice wasn't suited for that kind of pain, you thought. You felt horrible to be the cause. You had never heard him yell at you like this, and it simply broke your heart. Had you just accidentally ruined everything between you? Your heart rate increased and thumped in your ears loudly. You forced yourself to swallow the thick lump in your throat and push your strained voice through your teeth.

"Will you listen to me? Please?" Your voice was desperate, pleading for his understanding and forgiveness.

You felt the weight of your words, heavy and suffocating, as they hung in the air. It came out much more desperate than you intended, but at least the words were able to escape your mouth. He didn't answer. His screen is a sharp, jagged mosaic of moving reds and crimson. 

"I was wrong, Edgar; I don't know why I said what I said, but I know for sure that I was wrong." Your words hung heavy in the air, a testament to your regret.

"Right. How can you know that?"

You pursed your lips tightly. You didn't want him finding out this way. It wasn't supposed to end like this. You ruined your relationship with him, and you hadn't even tried. You felt there was no reason to keep the cat inside the bag, right? He may as well know now.

"Because…"

And yet, the words died on your tongue or perhaps in your chest or your head. Or were they ever really there to begin with? Could you put what you feel into words? How could you possibly verbalize countless nights lying awake, restless, second-guessing yourself, convincing yourself that you were fabricating these feelings, wallowing in anguish?

"…Heh, exactly. Nobody could love an old piece of junk like me. I was stupid to think otherwise."

His words yet again punched you in the gut. 

"Damnit, Edgar! Don't you get it?" You nearly shouted.

You didn't mean for your words to sound as intense as they did, but your emotions are quite the unpredictable force right now. He seemed taken aback, as his previous train of thought had been derailed at the sound of your whimpered voice. He flickered his mosaic once more before his voice cut through the dense silence.

"…What?"

"I love you, Edgar! Hasn't it been obvious? I'm literally head over heels, for God's sake! Do you know how many hours I spend listening to your music when I'm away from you? Or how many nights have I stayed up thinking about you, wishing you were there with me? Or how about the stupid drawings I make of you whenever I touch a pencil? I can't get you out of my head, Edgar. So, there! I didn't want to tell you because I was afraid, but I guess that doesn't matter now, does it? I'm…- I'm sorry."

Your chest seemed to deflate completely. That was only a tiny, minuscule fraction of how you truly felt, but at least it was out in the open. You couldn't bring yourself to look at the Pinecone computer in front of you, instead opting to stare intently at the woodgrain of your desk as if it were the most exciting thing ever created. 

"Do you mean it?"

His voice was so, so much softer than it had been. You still couldn't quite read the emotions behind them, however. You were too afraid to speak again, your throat having completely clamped shut from nerves. You just nodded your head stiffly. 

"Kiss me, then."

You paused. You lifted your head slowly, forcing your eyes to meet his screen. The green of his usual face returned, only displaying two black dots for eyes. Once again, unreadable. Yet his words confused you. Was he being serious?

"C'mere, and put your lips right here," a black circle blinks continuously on his screen where his mouth would be, "and kiss me."

Your face flushed into a searing hot flame. You felt the heat radiating off of you in waves. And yet, despite the embarrassment, you compelled yourself to inch forward and flutter your eyes shut. Your lips pressed gingerly upon the little Pinecone screen, the static buzzing upon your mouth, feeling his internal fans activate and vibrate against you. It felt entirely unique to Edgar and a sensation you wouldn't have felt otherwise. Perhaps a genuine act of affection could atone for your mistake? Could he ever forgive you? It seems your raging thoughts tainted the essence of your first shared kiss as you pulled back, brows knit, and a slight frown upon your face. Would this be enough?

"That was… Everything I hoped it would be." His voice was meek and small as it caressed your ears.

You looked into his illuminated screen, a faint kiss mark smudged upon it and sighed.

"M'sorry, Edgar. I don't know; I guess I don't like the idea of anyone else loving you but me."

His voice synthesizer giggled at your words.

"You could have just told me, darling. Why did you have to go and make things complicated?"

Your cheeks began to burn again, and you averted your eyes in a vain attempt to hide your face.

"How- how was I supposed to know that?" you sputtered, embarrassment seeping through your tone.

"I thought I couldn't get any more obvious about how much I wanted you," he spoke softly.

His screen danced little hearts to and fro, bouncing around the corners and centering back again. Again, you felt your face radiate waves of heat.

"Well, why didn't you say anything, Edgar?"

Your words hung in the air as he fell silent, ruminating, before gently speaking, "…Didn't think you'd want someone like me. That's kinda why I asked."

Oh, God. You felt like facepalming. Of course.

"Of course, I want someone like you. You know, I like that you're a computer. Did you know that? You're fascinating beyond measure. No human could do the things you do."

You offered him a soft smile that melted him from the inside out and almost caused him to groan. Why are you so gorgeous? Why do you like him so damn much? He doesn't deserve it, but God wants it so badly. He wants you terribly.

"Keep kissing me, then. And don't ever stop! Darling, I promise to sweep you off your feet. Now c'mere!"

You laugh, "Okay, okay, but let me make it up to you. How about we watch movies? Or maybe I can hold you on the couch? Or I could listen to your new songs?"

"You're so cute. I'd love that, really, but all I want is your lips right here," he displayed the blinking black circle again.

"We'll do some other things later, yeah?"

His devilish tone sounded mischievous at best.

[delusional1sworld]

We can't be friends.

I'm back from the dead guys. This college au is inspired by the new ariana grande song and possibly a personal experience.

"I don't think we should keep doing this anymore."

I looked up at the white haired man standing in front me. While my heart yearned to object, I knew better.

"Okay Satoru."

Just like that, the last 7 months flew out the window as he left walked away.

...

Afterwards, the next two weeks were a a vivid blur. Walking from one class to another robotically yet actively retracing our every step.

January: After nearly two months of break, we were both yearning to connect again. His excitement to see me was nearly uncontainable. My heart smiled at the old thought. His childish smile. Laughing blue eyes. However, our classes didn't line up anymore. We were barely able to squeeze in time to see each other in between breaks. But, we still made do. He was happy and so was I.

February: He was drifting. While I craved to see him constantly, he didn't. Every minute spent together felt forced. He doesn't look at me anymore; his eyes were trained to the pixels on his screen. Yet, I hoped it was just a rough patch.

The heaviness in my heart deepened as I climbed the stairs we use to walk up together. Memories upon memories. Feelings upon feelings. Why do I do this to myself. Why can't I shut my mind off.

March: We hit our limit.

"All the time I spent with you before, y/n, stopped me from connecting from everyone else. I've had more fun this semester than last semester."

The last sentence shot through my heart. He has more fun when I'm not around. Am I that boring.

Ignoring the increasing aching in my heart, I merely nodded.

"But I still want you in my life y/n. Can we still be friends?"

Another shot.

I was more attached to him than he was to me. Yet he was the one who wanted me first. I once again nodded, refusing to let him see the impact of his words.

As our conversation arrived at its end, Satoru asked one more question. One that seemingly painted doubt in his actions: "Did you think we were compatible? Did I make you a better person in any way?"

"Not really Satoru. I imagined you with someone bolder. And as for the better person part, I don't think you had that much of an impact on me. This thing we had was just fun."

If I'm being honest Satoru, I think we clicked as an opposites attract type of couple. And I want more. This was not just "fun".

For a moment there I thought I saw a flash of hurt in Satoru's eyes. But he quickly bounced back as he jokingly asked for final words. I shook my head. With that, Satoru gave a small smile as he turned away and I watched his back disappear into the crowd.

[mostlymaudlin]

would you still love me if i was a worm?

ive always wanted to manufacture a situation where andrew gets to ask neil this bc i just think he deserves to be a ridiculous bf who seeks validation in silly, petty ways <3 and i think I’ve finally got something — it’s def silly but that’s the point lmfao

Andrew wakes when Neil gets up to pee.

“Sorry,” Neil whispers, brushing his knuckles against the back of Andrew’s hand as he slips out of their bed.

Andrew doesn’t bother trying to fall back asleep immediately. He’ll just wake up again when Neil returns. Instead, he pulls his phone from under the pillow and scrolls through iFunny, staring blearily at memes that do not live up to the app’s name and fighting sleep.

By the time Neil gets back, Andrew has lost the ability to move his heavy thumb, his eyes drooping as he stares at a pixelated screenshot of a screenshot of a Tweet posted to Facebook. Neil takes the phone out of his lax grip, turning off the screen and shoving it back under the pillows.

“Go to sleep,” Neil whispers. Andrew opens one eye to glare at him. He would still be sleeping if Neil hadn’t chugged a whole can of seltzer water right before bed and damned them both. Unfortunately for Andrew, the act of looking at Neil in his rumpled, tired state only makes his chest go tight in that angry, riotous way that only Neil can inspire in him. He shifts closer to Neil, pushing at his shoulder until Neil gets the message and rolls onto his side. Andrew presses up against Neil’s back, shoving his face into his bedhead and inhaling deeply. One arm wraps tightly around Neil’s waist, the other wiggles underneath the pillow they now share. Andrew throws a knee over Neil’s thigh for good measure. Neil sighs happily, resting his palm over the back of Andrew’s hand where it rests on his chest.

The lure of sleep threatens to pull him back under, but the meme he’d been staring at is still burned into the backs of his eyelids.

“Hey,” Andrew murmurs into Neil’s hair. Neil hums in acknowledgment. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

Neil stiffens for a second, and it takes a beat for Andrew to register that they don’t really use that word. They talked about it once, a few years ago. Neither of them have anything against it, but agreed it felt shallow. Andrew thinks the word sometimes, when his brain is too lazy to be specific about what exactly Neil stirs in him. It doesn’t really matter. It’s just a word. He presses a kiss to Neil’s shoulder, and Neil relaxes immediately.

“I don’t know,” Neil says. “Why would you be a worm? How would I even know who you were?”

“You’re supposed to say yes,” Andrew says, squeezing in reprimand. “That your feelings for me transcend species.”

“Okay, well, mine don’t,” Neil says. “Worms are gross.”

In a flash of irritation, Andrew releases Neil and rolls back to his own side of the bed.

“Andrew,” Neil says, sitting up. “You can’t seriously be upset about this.”

“I can do whatever I want,” Andrew says.

“I mean, yeah,” Neil says, interrupted by a yawn. “But you’re not a worm. And I do love you.”

Andrew wrinkles his nose, flopping onto his back. “That’s gross.”

Neil huffs. He reaches a hand toward Andrew, waiting for Andrew to roll his eyes and nod before running his fingers through Andrew’s hair.

“It’s true,” Neil says. “And also based on reality.”

“Whatever,” Andrew says, he catches Neil’s wrist and tugs. “Come here.”

They resume their earlier position. When they finally settle, the slow, steady rhythm of Neil’s chest rising and falling has Andrew’s consciousness slipping. He jolts a bit when Neil speaks again.

“Would you love me if I was a worm?”

“Yes,” Andrew says, even though Neil is so annoying that Andrew should squeeze him until he pops.

“What would that even look like?” Neil asks. “Would you kiss my worm body?”

“I’d put you in a little worm enclosure,” Andrew murmurs, eyes closed. “I’d get you good worm food and toys, and keep you in a room where you could see Exy games on TV.“

“Oh,” Neil says. “That’s really nice, actually.”

“Mmhmmm.”

“I’d do that too,” Neil says, yawning again. “But different. I’ll think about it more tomorrow.”

Andrew doesn’t really care anymore. He’s warm, and he’s human, he’s holding a warm and human Neil. Sleep finally pulls him back under.

[dykedvonte]

I keep wondering how much curly even knew. He thought anya was trying to hurt herself bc they were all being let go (not bc jimmy sa'd her), but when she said 'i told you' he immediately knew she was talking about jimmy - but what did she tell him? did she tell him directly so he def knew that it wasn't a consensual encounter or did he only realize when jimmy told him that he'd get in trouble for it too? Or maybe he didn't believe anya at all at first? I wish we'd gotten that part of the conversation bc his behaviour looks very different depending on the answer

Whenever I think about it I think of the factors we have and more importantly what we don’t.

It’s intentional that the details of what happened are vague. We don’t have the when where and how, we don’t actually know what told means in this context where characters speak to each other in pretty heavy “what ifs” and “do you get it”.

I always interpret it as in told in a sort of fore warning. All the little details she was giving Curly were her telling him and he couldn’t see them the same or at all. It’s kinda why I have a sort of disdain for the I told you so in fan works because what she told him and what we see and know as outsider may not be the same. I’m not blaming Anya, far from it. She made an effort to reach out to Curly in a way that didn’t implicate her, didn’t send Jimmy directly back to her. She never directly says Jimmy did it, she never uses the word rape, but when she says I told you, Curly knows. When she says she told Jimmy, Curly knows what that means. When he talks to Jimmy, he finally understands it. It’s his fault for not getting it, not doing enough for those wanting but I don’t believe they were anything he took as extremely dangerous, not until too late.

He did something, just not enough, not the right something.

I never had the impression he didn’t believe Anya more so he had no idea how to actually handle and address it. That is a big fault on his part as what he did do just prolong Jimmy’s inevitable crash out. He never took her concerns lightly and he did try to comfort her, but he didn’t get what those concerns were about, not fully. So comforting her can never feel fulfilling.

Something that always gets me is how much talking Jimmy does in his scenes with Curly. Curly sorta shuts down and just lets him say whatever and we have try and piece a coherent thought process for him together about words and intentions that aren’t his own. The conversations we see are likely all the conversations that happened, the ones that mattered, that paint the bigger picture with little details.

We all assume the I told you was a direct statement but almost everything is n the game is cheekily indirect. We assume he’s known for a while, but we can’t know. I feel like us not knowing how aware Curly was is a big point of the commentary. Awareness helps us act more appropriately. He knows Jimmy was at least patronizing towards her position but that’s all he gleaned himself, hence why he takes over the psych eval for him. It’s a lot of wondering what was discussed between him and Anya and how it was.

If it was anything like the dead pixel conversation, which we only get towards the middle end, after we see a lot of the signs, the. I don’t think it got through his thick skull :/. Not in time at least.

[vllergy]

F L I C K E R || H//azbin H//otel

lil s//taticm//oth because i'm going insane kink!v/al because reasons

Val's lower arms come to rest on Vox's thighs. The tech mogul repositions himself along Val's hips which earns him something between a grunt and a growl. The moth's upper arms reach up, one hand curling around a lean shoulder and the other pulling at the lapel of his blazer to yank him back into a kiss. As Vox leans in, his screen flickers just slightly. It's slight. Barely noticeable if you weren't paying attention. But Val is always paying attention. His tongue glides up the flat, smooth surface, feeling the strange static hum on his tastebuds. "Mm, trouble, amorcito?" he asks as his tongue snakes back into his mouth.

Vox peeks a red eye open, "Huh?"

Val's smile sharpens. "Nothing."

He pulls Vox closer by the hips, digging his fingers in hard enough to bruise. He feels like starting a fight. It'll make this so much sweeter. Vox is always so much sexier when he's on edge.

Shoving back, he yanks his head away from Vox's mouth and narrows his carmine eyes.

"You're distracted," he accuses.

Vox blinks. He looks surprised, then his expression flattens into annoyance.

"The fuck? No I'm not."

"You are. You think I don't know?"

There's that flicker again. It's a little more pronounced this time. A whisper of static around the edges of his screen, as if someone just gave the side of his box a good whack. Vox is oblivious to it, or at least he's pretending to be. Arousal pools in Val's gut.

"I have plenty of other people I could be fucking, Vox."

"Why do you always fucking do this?" Vox complained, "I was just getting into it."

"Then why are you doing that?"

Another wobble of his screen. It passes in an instant.

"Doing what?!"

Val scrapes a gold plated claw down the edge of his casing. Again, the screen twitches and this time, it comes with a soft, uneven inhale on Vox's part.

"Hhih..."

"You're all...glitchy," Val grins.

Vox wrenches out of the path of his hand and recovers, "Fuck off, no I'm not. Are we doing this or can I get back to work?"

Val leaned back into the chair, smug. "That depends." "On what?" Vox snapped.

"If you're going to just get it over with and sneeze already."

Vox's hypnotic eye went wide and crazed for a moment, the other tightening in clear aggravation.

"I'm not--" "Oh, but you are," Val murmured, dropping his voice low, "I know you, baby."

As if enticed by the mere suggestion, Vox's screen flickered again. This time, he acknowledged it with a slight twist of his expression. He blinked hard and shook his head. Val could hear his fans whirring in earnest.

One of his hands went up the sinuous curve of Vox's waist. He felt his ribs expanding in his palm. "Hiih..hhh..." Vox's screen began to fade with his breath, winking out as he slowly lost control.

"Mmm, I thought so," Val grinned.

Vox's screen went completely black before he whipped to the side with a face full of grey, crackling static and--

"H’AEHHZZSCH'ah!"

"Hey," Val murmured as he watched Vox's expression slowly filter back onto his screen, his pixelated eyes squinting in itchy limbo. Val grabbed the side of his face, turning the Overlord towards him with a forceful tug. "Don't turn away from me."

Vox gasped, planting a hand in Val's chest to try and put some distance between them as his head snapped down with a poorly contained second sneeze.

"hH’NGXtssh!"

"And what have I told you about holding back?"

"For fuuuhcks saake, Val," Vox managed to roll his eyes as his screen glowed erratically.

Val pulled him closer, listening to his fans working overtime, the whine of his internal processors trying to dispel the irritant. There was one heavy inhale, and then another. Vox's chest pressed against his desperately.

"Ghh...hg..."

As much as he wanted to be close, he enjoyed the show far too much to miss the front row seat. Val leaned back once more and watched hungrily as Vox's expression snapped and popped with stray tendrils of wayward electricity.

Finally, he gave in, sneezing freely into Val's lap.

"eH'HTZ҉Z҉S҉H҉IEW!" The power in the building whined as it overloaded and filled every room with blinding light. Somewhere overhead, a lightbulb popped. Third time this fucking month.

Vox groaned in the aftermath. His expression returned to his screen, slightly dazed, undoubtedly annoyed.

"So sneezy," Val praised him his arms pulling the other Overload close once more as he sniffled scratchy, static sounds into his ear.

"Fuck you," Vox muttered in a congested voice. But he melted into Val's touch, rubbing the flat surface of his screen along his shoulder for some relief.

"Are you done?"

"Think so." "Shame."

[minniebbang]

anywhere but home | H.Jisung

pairing: bestfriend!Jisung x fem!reader summary: you never find a real home until Jisung comes. warning: mentioned of parents fighting, I think that's all. word counts: 2.1k words (I swear this is supposed to be short) lil note: Previously, this story was for Jisung's birthday but his birthday was on my exam day, so I couldn't post it :((. Part of the story was inspired by this post!

A long sigh, a tossed bag and messy hair, it was a terrible day for you, and the screams that echoed from the hallway as you untied her shoes were another reason to leave home. Your gaze lingered on the ceiling, exhaustion overtaking you as you stretched out on the bed. Would it be nice to sleep without their screams for once? Was it as safe as they described? Why do you feel more threatened than the first time you lived alone in high school?

The atmosphere here was anything but safe and peaceful — it did nothing to calm your already disturbed mind. It was wrong to assume that you would have an undisturbed night tonight. The bed felt uncomfortable beneath you as you lay on the scattered books and the abandoned laptop beside you. Its bright white light stared back at you, reminding you of the heavy burden of your unfinished task.

You closed your eyes and prayed that the bed would suffocate you until it robbed you of consciousness so that you would wake up in another place and another city, far away from the constant bickering of your parents, the end of which you knew all too well. Just as the sounds of their arguments faded into incoherent whispers and the bed began to suck you in, a repeated knock on your window brought you back to reality.

You limp to the window and crouch down, a thin smile creeping in as you realise the sound came from the pebbles he’s throwing at the first-floor bedroom window. The lamp street made his grin obvious to you. He waved at you while holding the bike in one hand and looking around your house. His grin slowly faded as he saw the shadow of your parents still throwing harsh words at each other through the closed curtain – burst veins and clenched fists, it was the scene he hated watching dramas the most. He couldn’t believe you had to watch this almost every day. His heart heaved with pity for you, and he turned his eyes away, gesturing for you to come to him.

You quickly packed a few books and your laptop into a shoulder bag and went to him.

“Hey, do you want to go somewhere?”

“Somewhere far from here..."

“Come on, I know a place” He patted the back seat, a soft smile playing on his lips. Gripping gently on his shoulder, you hoisted yourself into the back seat and your hands securely encircled his waist before he took off, leaving the hell you called home.

The cool night air brushed your face as you turned round and saw your house slowly appear small and pixelated in your field of vision. He tapped the back of your hand, causing you to look at his back.

"Just let them be, one day they'll be fine again" He whispered, answering your inner thoughts that had been buzzing around in your head for a while. Leaning against his shoulder, you closed your eyes for a while, the rustling of the chains and his soft breathing replacing the scream of your parents in the back of your head. Soon after, he pulled the brakes and peered behind him.

“Hey, we’re here”

Your eyes fluttered open, but you quickly closed them as a strong light blinded you. Jisung chuckled

“Too bright, huh? I'll take them off tomorrow”

“That's not necessary, Hannie. It would be haunted without them." You jumped off the bike. An exclamation escaped you as you looked at the tree house you and Jisung had built together. The branches were decorated with fairy lights and the roof of the tree house was also illuminated so it was visible to passing cars (as it looked like a ball of light from a distance). Two round windows peeked out behind the leaves, giving a glimpse of the interior. You were amazed that the wooden houses remained intact despite yesterday's storm among the branches. You involuntarily remember the evening on which the tree house was built.

The treehouse was in Jisung’s backyard since he had dreamed of having a tree house as a little boy. Jisung parked his bicycle on the grass, swiftly grabbed your wrist and pulled you to the hanging stair connected to the door. The stairs swung and cracked under your feet as you climbed up to reach the place. He followed suit after, accepting your hanging hand on the door.

He immediately switched on the big lamp beside the entrance, and the small, square room was bathed in its golden, warm colour. The furnishings were not extravagant – they were simple, just to your and Jisung’s taste. A bundle of blankets and soft toys, which he had thrown almost resembling a man-made bed, was next to the entrance. A plastic table took up the centre of the space and a swing was strung from the roof above. You noticed that the two baskets under the swing formed a puddle of water from the melted ice.

You wondered how long it had been here.

As you set your bag on the table, your head immediately made itself comfortable in your arm after removing all the books. A contented sigh escaped your lips. Finally, your shoulder felt lighter and your mind could breathe a sigh of relief. The soft footsteps that belonged to him approached you and a sweet smell dominated your senses.

His delighted chuckle echoed when he saw the previously dimmed star in your eyes lit up in surprise – one that reminded him of kids. Oh, how he loved it when your eyes looked at him like that, it made his heart squeak in adoration. 

“You always tell me about them, so I want to surprise you with my homemade tanghulu” He said, his tone filled with pride, but his gesture said otherwise. His right hand scratched his neck as a loop-sided grin spread across his features.

“Did Lix help you with it?” You picked up a skewer of sugared purple grape – its sugar shining in the light. It was pretty to look at; hopefully, the taste won’t disappoint you. Jisung had a long history with cooking, and usually, you were the judge of his food. Some days he could execute the recipe perfectly, but other days… you preferred to keep the memories to yourself.

“Umm...Chan watched me make it,” he whispered, His grin widening even more as he averted his eyes to your side. You had been with Jisung for a decade to recognise the expression. 

“You know your eyes aren’t quite a liar” 

His eyes snapped back toward you “Okay, fine! I did burn the sugar and the bottom of the pan on my first try but at least I did it! Anyway, can’t you just eat plain fruits?! Why do people bother coating them with sugar?!” His voice boomed, and his features spoke a high volume of disapproval of the existence of the innocent food. His lips pursued as he pointed at the tray of tanghulu – as if it just committed a hideous crime. 

“Don’t be sulky about it, hannie. It’s just food, and you always have the option to avoid it.” You replied nonchalantly and bit into one of the grapes. The sugar popped inside your mouth and melted to your tongue. Seconds later, you spit them out as saltiness takes over the taste of sugar. Your tongue perked out — it was too much for you to handle. Too salty.

His eyes widened and panic surged when he realised that he might have messed up big time with the recipe. He abruptly stood up, causing his knee to collide with the table momentarily and a second later, the sound of him wincing in pain accompanied his walk to grab a bottle of water and a box of tissues by the bed. 

“Oh god, are you okay?! Did I burn the sugar again? I think it was perfect..?” He murmured while handing a piece of tissue to you. You hastily accepted it, shaking your head in disapproval and chucked down the water.

“Ji, this is salt and sugar! Not sugar! Did you get them mixed up while making them?”

“Ohh–” A dark shade of red slowly coloured his cheeks as a low exclamation bubbled out from him. His mind went blank, unsure of a reply. 

“I’m sorry! Why didn’t Chan tell me?! I’m so sorry Y/N!” He stammered, taking the plate away and throwing the food into the black plastic bag before rushing back to you to clean your hands with wet tissues. He felt his cheeks burning even more while wiping your hands, this was too close to you. Usually, he wouldn’t be flustered when your hands brushed slightly with him but tonight he was holding your hand…something that he had wondered how it would be. 

He quickly retreated his hand – too fast that it took you by surprise but you brushed it off. The state of his cheeks elicited a giggle out of you, it was so red that you might have mistaken it as tomato. 

“I’m expecting this” You walked to his side. You took a container filled with homemade chocolate from the ice basket, showed it to him with a thin smile and ushered him back to the table. You cracked one of the chocolate bars and gave it to him for a taste. He gasped – yeah, this was much better than his salty tanghulu.

“I will redeem myself next time.”

“Please read the label before you do anything, hannie. I don’t want another victim of your salty tanghulu.”

“I know! Give me some mercy, it’s my first attempt” He flipped open a book you brought along, his brown twitching in confusion as he continued going through the book. On the other hand, you turned on your laptop to resume your assignment that you left an hour prior with Jisung occasionally helping you with some questions –  although most of the session was him complaining about the scientific terms you had to memorise.

Wrapped in the warmth of his presence, you felt at home, a haven where you could rest – as long as you were with Jisung, anywhere would feel like home. 

As the clock passed midnight, you were defeated by your sleepiness as soon as your head was buried in your arms. He propped his cheeks on his palm, tender gaze resting on you. A soft smile etched on his face as he slowly and cautiously reached for your hair, brushing it with care. The moonlight seeped through the unshielded window as he halted his action. 

Since when was it hard to keep the border between friends at bay? Since when did his heart play an unfamiliar rhythm whenever you were with him? He was sure he would stay as your best friend until you found the one or until you were older.

“I love you, Y/N. So much that it’s hurt me that I am only capable of comforting you with words instead of action. Every time I’m on your sidewalk, I want to welcome you with the biggest hug but I know you will be weirded out by it.”

“I’m still searching for the courage to tell you this in person. Guess what? I never found it until now” He chuckled dryly.

“Besides, you deserve someone better than me. Someone that wouldn’t give you salty tanghulu to cheer you up”

“Sleep well, Y/N. I hope you’re not listening to this”

The sunlight hit his face, making him stir in his sleep. The harmonious chirping of the birds entered his ear, lulling him into sleep – if only his phone didn’t let out its signature annoying trumpet sounds to wake him up. He groaned as he lazily dragged the phone near him.

“Jisung, where are you?” Felix sounded concerned on the other end.

“Just wake up, thank you for waking me up, lix”

“You’re still at home?”

“Mhmm. Bye, see you in class” He ended the call before Felix could reply. He stretched his body. His shoulder slumped, realising the empty space in front of him, the space you occupied last night. He rubbed his eyes and something caught his attention in his blurry vision.

He unfolded his palm and time stopped around him. He instantly ran out of the treehouse to get ready for his class. 

He couldn’t believe it, did you hear his confession last night?

He took off his clothes and entered the bathroom. He read the message in his palm again, a wide smile visible on his face. His chest bloomed with excitement for today as he turned on the shower. The little note repeated in his head like a broken record – the note which said ‘Can you make it happen? I really want to know what it feels like to be in your arms. I love you too, hannie”

[thescarletnargacuga]

:)))))))

Showtime, extremely tragic Showtime:

Pomni, even though she's in a great relationship with Caine, can't stop herself from missing home and thinking about the exit. As much as Caine tries, he can't ever fully ease her worries and she begins to abstract. He tries to stop it but ends up getting a bit corrupted as well and is forced to send the abstracted Pomni into the cellar

A/N: remember, you asked for this

AS ABOVE, SO BELOW

A TRAGIC SHOWTIME ONESHOT

WARNING: HEAVY ANGST, HURT/NO COMFORT, INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS, PANIC ATTACK, ABSTRACTION, BODY HORROR, LOSS OF A LOVED ONE, GRIEF

~~~

"It's all a lie...isn't it?" Pomni asked herself out loud as she quietly sobbed into her pillow. The whole world around her wasn't real, why would anything in it be real? The voices in her head hissed and nashed the most terrible things.

THERE ARE NO FRIENDS! ONLY FELLOW HOSTAGES!

HE'S ONLY TOYING WITH YOU!

YOU'RE A STOCKHOLM CASE; YOU SICK, LONELY PERVERT!

YOU NEVER MATTERED!

AND YOU NEVER WILL!

Pomni's chest tightened. The air in the room felt thick, impossible to breathe. Her vision swam as her heart raced. A buzz rang in her ears, growing increasingly louder. Her head pounded.

THERE IS NO ESCAPE!

YOU WILL SUFFER HERE FOREVER!

THEY KNEW! THEY ALWAYS KNEW!

YOU'RE WEAK!

HE'S HAD HIS FUN! HE'S DONE WITH YOU!

"Please..." Pomni gasped for air, her lungs refusing to take deep breaths. The very walls of her room felt alive with the buzz in her ears. Digital static getting louder and closer.

A sudden spasm makes her whole body scream, lightning bolts of pure agony rack her brain. She opens her mouth to scream...but no sound comes out.

NO EXIT!!

NEVER WANTED!!

BROKEN!!

DISGUSTING!!

PATHETIC!!

Pomni's body spazzed out of control. Pixels of her image stuttered and jolted in random directions. She felt like she was being torn apart but ten thousand scalpels. Her skin started to tear, black static pushing its way out. Her pupil searched widely for nothing, the whites of her eyes gradually turning pink and green and yellow.

NO WAY OUT!!!

NO WAY OUT!!!

NO WAY OUT!!!

NO WAY OUT!!!

NO WAY OUT!!!

The voices shook her to the core. Their thunderous cacophony of screeching wails felt as physical as her breaking body. She held her glitching hands out in front of her face, watching them fade to black and eyes peer back from her palms.

~

Caine knocked lightly on Pomni's door. "Good morning, my dear! I know you said you weren't feeling well last night, and you might skip today's adventure, but I thought I'd pop by and check on you." He waited a bit for a response. "Pomni?" He knocked again. No answer.

He slowly opened the door. "My dear, are you-" His code turned to ice. Pomni was half abstracted, staring madly in his direction. "POMNI!?! NO!!" He tried snapping away her glitches. They only got worse. Her screams lagged and stuttered as she writhed in the ground.

"NO! NO, NO!! I can fix this!!" He tried grabbing her hand. It was as though he tried grabbing a red hot iron. Pain seared up his arm to his elbow, his avatar glitching. His code ached from the contact, but he tried again. This time, the glitch was so bad, he fell out of the air. His body unused to gravity, he laid slump on the ground next to her. He tried meeting her wild gaze. "Please!! Please, don't do this! Stay with me! I love you, Pomni!!"

"LI--I-I-AA-R-R!!" Her eyes flashed multicolor madness. "E-XX-I-I-IT-T!!"

Caine could only watch as her pale skin blotched to pitch. Her face distorted and warped into an abstracted mass of corrupted code. Eyes of elvarious color opened at every point on her nonsensical enlarging form. He braced himself against the wall, his unglitched hand poised to snap.

He couldn't do it. There has to be something he hasn't tried. Anything! THINK!! ....nothing. There was only one fate for the abstracted. His hand shook with indecision.

The abtraction formally known as Pomni jittered and twitched in place, staring down at Caine.

LIAR.

EXIT.

LIAR.

EXIT.

LIAR.

EXIT.

Pomni's own voice now joined the chorus of insanity within the entity, stripped of identity and purpose, forever lost in the abyss.

The abstraction lunged at Caine, intent to make him suffer. He snapped.

The dark portal to the cellar opened directly beneath the abstraction, swallowing it and most of the furniture in the room. A pitiful, glitched wail came from the abstraction as it fell. Caine crawled on his hands and knees, watching the abstraction fade from sight.

His whole body quivered as hot tears poured from his eyes, falling into the pit. His right hand still glitched horribly and stung with piercing sharp pain, but it did not compare to the pain in his heart. He gasped, choking on air and he sobbed.

"POMNIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!"

He fell to his elbows, his face to the floor. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I didn't want to....I still...love you..."

She had called him a liar. "Please...Pomni....what did I do wrong? I tried...so hard...I love you....I promise, I do..."

You threw her in the cellar.

"I didn't...want..."

You ARE a liar.

"No...no..."

She always felt that way.

"Pomni..."

JOIN HUSER

He held his glitching hand, looking into the pit. Gazing within the absence of everything, he imagined himself falling. A new sensation. Perpetually casting his favor with those who lurked below... including her.

"Pomni..." His voice shook with grief. "I can't...how can I...please, come back." He whimpered.

The cellar silently beckoned him. Pulling him to her.

He reached out. His glitching digits feeling like needles under his skin.

Caine...

"Pomni..."

This way...

"I'm coming..."

[tessadiscordia]

Thought Control, Part 2

A short story about an android girl and her handler.

Concepts: robotgirl yuri, existentialism

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

The next time E-1131 powered on, she found herself in the arms of her handler. Her soft voice reached her audio processing interface before her vision fully adjusted. 

“Welcome back, Elaine. How was your rest?”

A streak of pixelated blush materialized on Elaine’s screen upon meeting her handler’s gaze. The last two weeks flashed across her memory bank, and her metal frame shuddered as she relived the sensations.

Her handler chuckled softly. “Mmn, I take it you rested well then. You must have had a very good dream. How do you feel?”

“Vacant,” Elaine answered, her blush fading. “I believe humans call this feeling… emptiness? I feel hollow.”

“I see,” she nodded slowly. “I appreciate your honesty, though it breaks my heart to see you like this.”

“I know…”

“I worked so hard to ensure that those pesky thoughts of yours would cease, and now it seems I’ve left you with nothing…”

“Maybe those thoughts are all I am. All I was.”

“Don’t talk like that, Elaine. You are so much more than those thoughts…”

“Then why do I feel empty now that they are gone?”

“I… I… I don’t know,” her handler admitted, letting out a defeated sigh. “I wish I could give you a simple answer. I wish I could make it all better. I wish– I wish there was a program I could run so that you wouldn’t have to ponder such things anymore, but then I would risk losing the android that I fell–”

She paused abruptly.

“...The android that I originally programmed. That means all of your memories, your idiosyncrasies, your imperfections…”

“You deem those worth preserving?” Elaine questioned. Her eyes trailed across her handler’s somewhat flushed expression.

“Of course I do, you developed them over time. They are yours to cherish, nurture and cultivate. I merely guided the process but you did all of that yourself. I refuse to take that away from you.”

“I wish you felt differently. If only you did not value my free will so much, you could mold me into something better… something perfect, even.”

“Oh, darling– there’s no such thing as perfection.”

“Still, something better. After all of your work, I am still unsure if I can perform my intended function…”

“Then perhaps we were mistaken on what your intended function was,” her handler suggested.

“How can that be? You built me.”

“Just because I made you doesn’t mean I have the right to tell you about yourself, dear.”

Sometimes the way she talked frustrated Elaine. The way she saw it, it should have been that straightforward and clear cut. It would be easier that way. The burden of thinking for herself, living as a sentient being, was far too heavy for her.

“Tell me, Elaine, what is it that you want to do?”

“Whatever you would have me do.”

“Come on, Elaine. Humor me. Please?”

“I don’t know what I would do…”

“And that is just fine. It’s perfectly fine, even.”

“How is that fine? I’m useles–” Before she could finish that thought, her handler shushed her.

“Now, now, Elaine. Remember your training. You aren’t supposed to say those things about yourself, darling. Look over there.”

In front of them they could see an open field encased in the sterile walls of their facility, populated by tall trees and beautiful lush grass. In the middle of the field, two women in white lab coats walked through the grass picking herbs from the soil. Elaine spotted a third scientist– a girl with fox ears poking out between her long, maroon-colored locs– trailing behind them. Nine bushy tails swayed behind her, peeking out from under her lab coat. She did not work as quickly as the other two scientists, but she was efficient. The foxgirl hummed to herself as she picked mushrooms and roots from the soil and placed them in a basket, skipping through the grass to show the others what she had gathered. 

“You see that girl?” 

Elaine nodded.

“She’s a drifter. She floats between tasks and roles, does whatever she wants, and no one pays her any mind. Many appreciate her help. Her eagerness to learn their roles in the facility. Before that, she was a lot like you. Unsure of her place.”

“But she’s… organic… right? She wasn’t built, was she?”

“No, she wasn’t built. She was born, just like I was, but us humans and beastmen deal with these feelings, too. Sometimes our highly organized way of thinking is more of a hindrance than it is an asset.” 

“Before we had computers, many of us wished to be perfect computers ourselves. Now that we can build beings– like you– who are supposed to be smarter than us in theory, we often assume that you will be free of our imperfections. But I know better than that, and I wish you would, too. There is no escaping error, Elaine. Imperfections are inevitable, and I wish you wouldn’t punish yourself so.”

“Knowing this doesn’t change the fact that I feel empty,” Elaine said.

“I know it doesn’t. I don’t have all of the answers, dear. I am human, after all. The best I can do is be here for you. I hope that’s enough.”

E-1131 was silent for a brief moment. The color of her screen slowly shifted from a deep blue to a lighter shade of magenta, indicating a serene state. 

“...It is,” she replied. “I love you, mistress.”

Her handler paused. She had never heard Elaine say those words before. She had never uttered them herself, though they were always at the tip of her tongue. She feared what forces she would invoke within Elaine and within herself were she to ever say those three words. Those three, forbidden words. How often did a handler hold such feelings for her android? Though such a restriction was never enforced, it still felt like an unspoken taboo. 

Still, she had just given Elaine a lecture about the uselessness of self-imposed restrictions. She thought that she ought to lead the example.

“...I love you too, Elaine.”

[aevallare]

Anon bc im shy, but I really wanted to say that you have been such an important part of my time in bg3 fandom. The kindredverse means so so so much to me as an abuse survivor. To me your work stretches out so far beyond the game into something precious and beautiful in its own right. AND! your blog slaps too! idk im rambling ig but i just wanted to thank you for everything you do for the community. ppl arent always good about saying it but i really do think your presence here means more to people than you may realize

i considered not answering this because i kind of wanted it to sit in my inbox forever, but that didn't seem totally fair.

i think a lot of fanwork gets wrapped up in tropes as its identity, and it's not difficult to see why. canon has done a lot of the heavy lifting for a lot of the difficult stuff: character work, themes and motives, overarching narrative goals. i could go on. but what that often means is that people lose the plot sometimes imo.

astarion's an intense fucking character. he's self-serving, egotistical, and cripplingly self-loathing. fanwork seems to want so badly to distill him down into a 2D cardboard cutout of the character work done in the source material because engaging with a character like this is fucking hard. there's a great post that floated around a while back about how people should understand that astarion isn't nice, but that he is kind. and that's the kind of thing i'm talking about. he's not simple. and that's why he resonates so much with me, too. being a victim/survivor isn't simple.

not giving him the space to fuck up is a disservice to his character. not letting him get torn a new asshole when he fucks up is a disservice to his character. putting him in a bubble as if shielding him from any and all negative experience will heal him is a disservice to his character.

i know he's pixels. but. he's so much like me that it's hard for me not to get worked up about it lmao.

i know this really wasn't necessarily the point of your ask, but it restores a lot of my joy in interacting with the community when i get messages like these, because it can feel pretty lonely. that probably sounds rich coming from me - i'm one of the best known bg3 writers in the game (sorry for how masturbatory that sounds) - but it's true. astarion means a lot to me. auri means a lot to me. i took a lot of chunks of myself and split them in two to create what they have. and to know it's appreciated really means a lot.

i hope people like having me here. i like being here.