#ohoho i think that would be so much fun

[commander-ledi]

Kinky for Emmerich: tied to the bed, spread eagle, cock edged, him begging

👀

[luvsavos]

til a surprising amount of people theorize that the scarlet mystery man is an elder dragon/black dragon in human form

[fraugwinska]

Since @chefskjssart's artwork that I commissioned was such a BANGER, I felt like I needed to do something to show my gratitude. So, I messaged her and gave her free choice over a little One-Shot I'd gift her. And that's how we ended up here :D Where are my little TV Sluts at? You can thank Chef - and I hope you all have fun ;>

NSFW - Explicit Sexual Content - Minors DNI - 5.7k words

"Gotta say, Val, the revenue of your movies really skyrocketed this quarter, fuck me."

Vox flipped through the quarterly reports, eyebrows raised and a grin on his face while Valentino, very pleased with himself, lounged on the chaise next to Vox's desk, smoking.

"I told you I've made a good investment." He grinned and blew out a puff of smoke. "All the horny bitches out there are eating my movies up."

"It's more than that, you're even making headway into other rings, holy shit! We've even got a foot in the Lust Ring market, which is almost impossible with that kind of competition..."

Valentino hummed approvingly.

"And the best part: I didn't have to do much." He added and let the tip of his cigarette rest against his lips, his grin widening. "My newest author is a kinky little genius."

Vox turned his attention to the papers again, his smile slowly turning into a frown as he scanned the declining sales in Voyeurscopes.

"What are you talking about? All of your authors write pretty much the same shit, what could be so special about-"

Valentino laughed and shook his head. "That one is - believe me, carino. Poor bitch has the mind of a succubus on crack but she can't get off."

Vox looked up, an eyebrow raised in skeptic questioning.

"Can't get off?"

"Can't feel anything. Can't cum for the life of her." He replied, leaning back and spreading his arms. "Numb like a fucking dead fish."

"Or maybe she just hasn't found a good dick." Vox mumbled, returning back to the reports, skimming over the numbers.

"Mh, you be the judge amorcito. Because I tried." Valentino growled, taking a drag from his cigarette. 

Now that got Vox's full attention. The TV demon stared at his partner for a few seconds of silence, then laughed maniacally, almost falling off his chair while Val rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Fucking weird little thing, she is. She can write the craziest shit, the hornier the better. Writes like a damn porn beast, but has no clue what good sex actually feels like."

Vox heaved, wiping his screen as if in tears.

"Ohoho, Christ on a Cracker Val, maybe you've been out of the business too long… are you maybe losing that golden touch?"

Valentino sneered. "Ay, and you think you would've been able to get that bitch to cum? Be my guest, I'll gladly watch you fail."

Vox grinned at the moth, his eyes dangerously teasing. The reports were long forgotten - this was too entertaining, and Vox loved to be challenged, because he loved the feeling of superiority he felt when he succeeded. And that feeling would be so much more satisfying when he'd beat his long time partner and porn prince of pride at his own expertise.

"Wanna up the ante? Make a little wager out of it?"

Valentino scoffed, then chuckled deviously. He took another drag from his long cigarette, his cerise teeth glistening with red saliva as he began to drool in anticipation.

"You know I like to play, Voxxy. Especially if the odds are so much in my favor."

Another script done.

Your best one yet, if anyone asked you. But you knew no one asked ever, so why bother?

You stood up from your desk in your private office - being Val's favorite pen pet had it's perks afterall.

You skipped the stage of employment where you'd be cramped in one of these horrible cubicles together with the other overworked, caffeinated and tired writers, typing another outdated secretary-fuck-fest-plot while the other employees complained about their last bad lay and the shitty pay.

At least you didn't have to deal with any of that. Your room was quiet and peaceful, the door able to be locked shut and the walls soundproof. No distractions, no chit chat, no loud coworkers or malfunctioning printer noises. Just the humming sound of your computer, and the whirring of the A/C Val had granted you - a luxury that most of your colleagues bitched about behind your back.

You stretched, your tired bones popping into place and you sighed. You were done for the day. Finally.

With the deadline looming over you, you had been a bit late with the last part, and the thought of being late with your work made you sick. But Val pressed for another banger (pun intended) like your last one, 'Dante's Infern-Hoe' and you didn't want to risk the benefits you were offered so temptingly by being sloppy.

But the script for 'The Devil wears Nada' sat now, freshly printed, next to your laptop, the file saved locally and in the cloud, with about an hour to spare still. You smiled, content and relieved. An hour of paid slacking off was nice, and you checked with a glance that the electric door still was set on LOCKED before you flopped down at the two-seater by the window, grabbing the remote from the small side table and turned on the TV.

A familiar voice spoke through the speakers, and you relaxed into the pillows with a small sigh, eyes closed.

As shitty as the program in Hell was, one thing it had going for it was Vox. That smooth, hypnotizing voice of the overlord that held pride's media empire in his claws was a delight to your ears, and even the mindless, overplayed commercial jingles were pleasant enough if he was the one narrating them.

For the millionth time, it seemed, your hand wandered under the hem of your pants, fingers rubbing lazily at your cunt, as you listened to him talk, advertising the latest angelic protection device that didn't do what he promised it to do.

It was insanity at this point, doing something over and over again expecting a different outcome. Every night your fingers were cold and wet with your slick and your clit bloody and raw while you felt nothing of even your most violent and feverish touches, trying for minutes to hours to experience a sensation you wrote daily about without the satisfaction of any remarkable buildup or release.

It was no use, you knew it was a fruitless attempt, just like all the others. The most you got out of your endless tries was a slight tingle one time where you were so desperate you fucked yourself with an electric rod on its highest setting, resulting in a power outage in your apartment and a big fat fine from your landlord a few days later.

Still, you craved it. Craved to one day feel at least something. After the disappointing One-Night-cannot-Stand-the-thought-of-it with your boss, the literal porn mogul you were ready to just give up. If the face of pride’s sexdrive couldn’t get you over the edge, was there any chance at all?

Valentino had been the last in a long line of desperate attempts, paartners ranging from incubi, paid whores, porn actors to even sexbots made by Asmodeus, costing you a pretty penny just for the hassle of trying to get through the return hotline to get your money back, explaining No, you don’t know how it was possible that the cock of the ‘Fuckboy 3.0 XXL’ broke into pieces after one time usage. 

You chuckled humorlessly at the memory - It was truly a pathetic time in your eternal existence, filled with you masturbating alone in bed like a sad porn star, yearning to experience sex like you wrote about in your scripts. Maybe this was hells way to punish you for your sins, your personal plan of torture - To never experience the very thing that possessed you on the daily.

The television droned on in the background, Vox advertising his latest technological developments; new features on your phone that you really could not care less about. Despite his unusual appearance, Vox was one of your absolute go-to Stand-in's for your plot protagonists. Charming, suave, depraved when called for and a dominating, thorough lover that took what he wanted, but with so much skill that his partner would cum threefold before he'd even begin to think about finishing. Cocky and yet sensual. Aftercare included. All the things your colleagues were too dumb to include, no wonder their scripts were a bust.

Yes, it was hell and therefore tastes were more... depraved than in the living world, but that didn't mean the populus secret wishes for some sort of common sexual decency was out the window, goddamn.

Your mind wandered away from your depressive ruminations, your hand never stopping its circular pattern around your swollen clit as your thoughts started to wander to its usual place, the only way that came close to what you longed for and what was the source for all of your best-selling porn scripts. Your boundless realm of fantasy.

'Come out, come out, wherever you are...'

Vox is standing in your doorway, his silhouette prominent against the bright white neon light coming from the corridor of the empty floor. His suit, neatly fitted to every curve of his slender body, is showing just how thin his waist really is, but that does not come even remotely close to describe his broad shoulders and firm, wide chest, contrasting it deliciously. His navy blue skin reflects the harsh lighting in the hallway, his screen sharp and clear, digital eyes never leaving you as he closes the door behind him, dipping the room you're in in darkness, the only source of light his brightly illuminated screen where his digital, mismatched eyes are solely fixated on you, hiding behind the long backrest of your couch.

'Found you, babydoll.' he says with that god forsaken sultry voice of his as he reaches for your throat, long fingers wrapping themselves around your neck as your breath hitches and he pulls you up from your crouched position, his long tongue running over your collarbones, the wet trails feeling as cold on your skin as his appendage feels hot. 'Now remember what I said? Ready or not...'

He presses you into a wall, his big, hard erection rubbing teasingly through the layers of fabric on your already wet core as you whimper with want. '... here I cum.'

You moan his name, the imagined feeling so painfully surreal, and you wished once more that your working fingers would elicit some sort of real, bodily response.

A cough makes you freeze in your movements. Your fantasy shatters like a mirror shot with a bullet and your eyes fly open, expecting to see maybe a dumb segment of a rerun of 'Vox2Nite'. Instead, you see the actual, real TV demon overlord, standing live and in color just a few strides away with an expression that was a mixture of confusion, curiosity and slight annoyance.

"I'd ask if I am interrupting, but it seems you already had me on your mind, huh, doll?"

Realizing that you weren't - in fact - hallucinating, you immediately whipped your hand out from under your panties, sitting up, flustered like a child caught with their hands in the cookie jar. How did he get in? Did you forget to lock the door? No. Did he unlock it?! You must have missed his opening and closing of the door over the voice in your fantasy. The same voice that is now echoing in reality. Oh what a shameful ending for a perfectly good fantasy orgasm.

"Um... shit, sorry, Mr. Vox, sir. I was just, you know..." you scrambled, getting nervous under the actual gaze of him as he folded his arms, waiting for you to end that sentence with a pitiful smirk. Jesus Christ, those arms are slender and muscular…

"Thinking! Just thinking, making script... scenarios..."

"Uh-Huh. And how is that coming along?" He asked, seemingly unfazed by the display before him as he took a few steps towards you.

"Oh, uh, haha, I didn't really... finish..."

He stopped directly in front of you, shutting you up with a low chuckle and his hand around your wrist, the one attached to the hand that had been in between your folds just literal seconds ago, lifting them up to look at the still shimmering wet residue on your fingers with a sneer.

"Mhm. Yeah, I've heard you have some problems with that."

Now that was embarrassing as it was alarming, and you ripped your hand out of his grip. Or better, you tried to do so anyway. It was a pointless exercise, his hand had an iron-tight grasp around your wrist as he pulled you up with one swift motion, so fast you stumbled into him, face to chest, breath caught in your throat as you were made suddenly aware how huge he really was compared to you.

"W-wow, my kinda pathetic reputation precedes me it seems. That's..." just great is what you wanted to say, but all words failed you when he lifted the hand in his grasp to his face, his thick, long tongue slithering out of his mouth just to wrap itself around your digits, lapping up the sticky residue of your arousal, watching you as your pupils widen and you squirm in his grip, mortified and turned on at the same time.

"Eh. Not as pathetic as my business partner's failure to provide something he's built his reputation on, sweetheart. Unusually smart of him to get you under contract before you shout it from the rooftops." He hummed as he tasted you, sucking in the pads of your finger hungrily and without hesitation, and all you could think of, frozen stiff like a deer in headlights, was: What the fuck is happening?

"But Val never had the kind of mindset I have... I don't do failure... or better said: I always finish what I start." His low rasp vibrated in the air around him, echoing in your head, and the heat his voice had brought to your skin left your mind racing. You asked yourself panicking if you had written too many dumb porn plots or if he was really implicating what you thought he was implicating.

"So, whaddaya say, doll..." His breath tickled your cheek as he leaned in closer, pulling you flush against him, a soft grunt of content as his hard dick pressed into your soft belly, his mouth right next to your ear, one of his hands running teasingly down your sides as he licked your ear shell. "...care to see if I can end your unlucky streak?"

'Fuck, yeah.' You thought, and almost moaned out loud as you let your head fall back to make room for his waiting mouth, when suddenly you stopped in your tracks. His hands were already groping over you greedily, squeezing your ass, your thighs, your breasts as he looked down on you, surprised to see your conflicted face.

"W...Wait. What's in it... for you?"

"Mh, you're clever. That's a new one." Vox laughed, his hand running up to the side of your face to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing small circles on the corner of your lip. "Me and Val made a little bet, you see, and well... Let's just say: I want this to work out just as much as you do, since my success depends on yours."

"Oh.." So Val was talking about you, that bastard. He had you sign an NDA when he hired you, given that you had been unwilling to make a soul contract with him, but you guessed that that had been naively one-sided. Asshole.

Vox stroked your bottom lip, parting them before you opened them slightly on your own accord, his dark blue tongue languidly tracing the edges, waiting for your decision, coaxing you to decide in his favor. And even though you were kind of pissed at Valentino for running around telling people about your... situation - you couldn't deny it was tempting, turning fantasy into reality. And what was another overlord trying to do the impossible? Worst case - he'd try and fail, just as all the others did before, like the stupid moth pimp. At least you'd have some leverage for maybe another good deal for your silence on it. And in the highly unlikely best case…

With your decision made, you flicked your own tongue against his, humming at the unfamiliar taste and the sizzling static electricity on your tongue. Vox grinned, his sharp teeth pressing onto your lips, nipping at the sensitive flesh and growling with approval when your lips parted.

"Ohoho, baby, this is gonna be fun."

Vox ran his claws through your hair, loosening your already messy bun until your hair fell free with his playful pulls as he explored your mouth, deepening the kiss with every lick, until he could push his whole tongue into your mouth, moaning and grabbing the back of your head tightly as you let him fill you without the slightest hint of protest, fighting a desperate losing battle for air.

"Fuck, don't you need to... breathe?" you whispered after he finally pulled back, a wet trail connecting his tongue to yours, grinning down on you while your lungs burned for oxygen.

"Perks of being state of the art, sweetheart." he watched your swollen, drool covered lips - parted to catch your breath - for a few seconds longer before he inquisitively tilted his head. "Did you feel any of that?"

You contemplated lying, but figured honesty would probably be the best in this situation, shaking your head and giving him your most pitiful attempt at an apologetic smile, already bracing yourself for him to give up or get mad. "My lips tingle a little."

"Mh." He huffed as he pushed you back into the two-seater, your back hitting the cushions with a soft thump, and unceremoniously pulled on your very not-sexy-at-all sweatpants and slightly-more-sexy-but-not-quite panties until they slipped over your legs.

"How about this then?" He pressed his knee in between your legs to nudge them apart. "Can you feel any of this?" He spread your already wet slit open to run a cold claw over your hole, softly dipping first one, then two and lastly three of his fingers inside to stretch you further open and push it back in, repeating the movement slowly while keeping his eye contact trained on your face.

You hummed non-commitally, closing your eyes and pressing yourself into the cushions, trying to feel for any sensation that should come with every slow drag of his digits pumping inside of you, and not finding any of it was so fucking frustrating. You felt like you were not only disappointing yourself, but him, as stupid as that sounded. But with every added finger and still a lack of response, you saw the progression of frustrations in his face that you knew all too well - eyebrows furrowed, irritated twitches of the corners of his lips that turned into a snarl with the third added digit. You frowned, sighing and bit your lip - nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing, and fucking nothing again, just another wet hole, the clenching of your walls a habit and reflex only, no pleasure whatsoever.

"It's no fucking use..." you whined, pressing your hands to your face in frustration and fear of looking back into his eyes, "I can't feel anything at a-aaAAH...!"

Your back arched at this strange jolt running down your spine, forcing you to grind down on his hand as a strong electric current buzzed from his claw tips right through your cunt, curling in your stomach in a hot wave of wanton need and knocking the wind out of you. Your eyes flew open just in time to see the flash of victorious satisfaction on his screen before his face turned fuzzy as you began to tear up.

"There's some reaction. There we go, sweetheart." He cooed and curled his fingers in that deliciously sinful way again, making your breath catch in your throat. For the first time since you can remember, you FELT. You dropped your hands from your flushed, hot face onto the plush of the couch, fingers desperately digging into the fabric, and stared at Vox with wide eyes. He winked, nudging his head to his buried fingers, and with a shattering gasp you could see neon blue bolts of electric sparks traveling down his slender arm, crackling around the soft flesh inside of your pussy that had never felt so sensitive.

"How are y-aaaa.... aaa-AAah...." he silenced any questions you might have had or possible retort with another shock wave traveling through his hand as he dragged his fingers in and out in an agonizingly slow pace, it had your ears ringing with white noise and your eyes water with unknown, strange pleasure.

You were shaking, and though it should have frightened you a lot more than it did to be electrocuted while doing something that could be considered borderline treason to Valentino (And it still had your cunt dripping on a whim), but there was nothing left for you to think of other than the sharp shocks making every nerve inside of you buzz, your thighs already trembling in anticipation of the possibility of an unknown, but oh-so-wanted climax. Yet it was somehow still out of your reach, out of your range of senses.

"I feel like we are getting closer, babydoll." The TV demon chuckled darkly, his voice over amplified, the electrical buzz reverberating loudly in the soundless room. "How 'bout we kick it up a notch, huh?"

He pulled out his fingers in a quick, cruel movement, making your pussy clench around nothing as you already mourned the feeling. Before you had the time to voice your loss however, he had your thighs already in his hands, pushing them back to almost fold you in half and spread them apart as wide as he could get them without hurting you. With a smirk he stuck out his tongue, inhumanely long, thick on its base and pointed at the end - and let his electric energy visibly spark around it. Holy Shit.

The moment his head dipped down and his appendage swiped through your puffed, red folds, you could feel your insides buzz in sync to his delighted moan. He began eating you out feverously and obscenely, not holding anything back, just like you wrote your most popular protagonists to do - NO, this was so much better than anything you've ever written or fantasized about, his tongue twisting in patterns that felt like nothing you've ever even came close to imagine before. It was like he powered your whole nervous system, overriding every strand of nerve with his own electricity, amplifying any touch, any lick and any suction that would normally not even register a thousand-fold.

"O-Oh my g... F-fffuuuuhhh-ck.. meeee..." you moaned in confusion and amazement, your legs shaking helplessly on either side of Vox's rectangle head as he fucked his tongue into you, switching between the deep, long, thorough thrusts and fast, small, teasing flicks into the wet heat of your cunt, coating his screen in a shining mix of your natural juices and his blue neon saliva. He sucked at the protruding of your swollen bundle of nerves, your sensitive clit twitching under his attention - it was maddeningly unreal. You felt like a complete, utter sham - if this was sex, you've never written it anywhere correctly.

"I'm working on that, sweetheart."

Vox smirked against your pulsing core, humming with satisfaction at your wet, gaping slit begging for him to push back in and fill you up again, making you ache for his tongue deeper and deeper, forcing every shred of sense you had to leave your mind as you bucked into his grip in desperation, chasing another intense jolt he held just out of your reach as he laughed deviously at your hungry reaction to his teasing antics.

You didn't care how pathetic you looked, how undignified or desperate you sounded. This was nothing short of fucking fantastic, this all new, unknown sensation that you deemed impossible to ever experience and an real, tangible orgasm so close you could almost grab it. You felt a violent greed, you needed more of this, more more more, you needed to cum and you knew exactly that only Vox was able to do it - but you needed him inside of you, pushing you into oversensitivity, no matter what was required to get you over the edge. Fuck all dignity, that ship had sailed the moment your back hit the couch.

You shook your head vigorously, choking down sobs of grateful pleasure that racked your body with every curl of his tongue inside of you and a guttural moan, high pitched and broken.

"P-Please... ah, Pl..please..." you panted and Vox felt for your thighs to hold you steady. His claws sank in with such force into the soft meat of your legs he drew blood. "F... Fu..Fuck me.. please." you stammered and he smirked, a look of pure joy in his digital eyes as he stared you down.

"Oh, I will, baby." He smiled against your core, curling the tip of his tongue around your clit with just the right amount of pressure that your entire vision went blank with a broken cry and the strongest wave of static he'd managed to work you up to so far. "Don't worry about that, I'm not nearly done with you."

He fucked his long, slippery tongue back into your quivering pussy, his thumb taking the place on the sensitive bundle of nerves where his pointy tip had been and you cried out again as he found that one spot you've always read (and written) about. You had questioned it's actual existence, believing it to be one of those wishful myths girls dreamt and you by proxy wrote about - Until Vox and his fucking talented mouth and miraculous tongue brushed right up against it with expert accuracy. It made your eyes roll to the back of your skull, mouth open to cry out as your back arched like a bow string.

"Yeah, there? F-Fuuuck..." The overlord growled, watching your blissful face twist with a new kind of overwhelming pleasure. "You gonna cum for me baby? Come on, let go, good girl..."

You knew the reader-pleasing phrase by heart. You used it a hundred times and fantasized about it even more - It shouldn't have that effect on you, but yet it was that comment of his, spoken in a raspy low rumble directly into your cunt that finally pushed you over the edge, leaving you panting helplessly and cumming.

Hard. Harder than you've ever dreamed about. Every nerve ending on overdrive, every hair standing on edge - it felt like getting struck by lightning, the static electricity sizzling through your blood vessels like a thunderstorm as he was still thrusting that goddamn magic tongue into your spasming hole through the clamping of your muscles, taking you through it with small, measured licks to keep you on the edge a little longer, whines and hiccups mixed with breathless laughs leaving your raw throat as you slowly returned to reality.

This was it, what you've always longed for, you realized after your vision came back to you, staring down at the smug looking TV demon who was still settled between your legs, his glowing screen painted with the remains of your climax. You managed to give him an exhausted smile, blowing a stray strand of wild hair from your face with a quick puff before dropping your head back in the pillow, absolutely spent. Vox pressed a toothy kiss on your thigh and pushed himself back to his feet.

"You've got quite the gushy orgasm, doll, damn..." he wiped a thick blotch of your arousal from the corner of his screen, the neon blue stained fingertip disappearing in his mouth as he hummed appreciatively and licked it away. Then he looked over you, slumped lazily on the sofa, your face flushed, your hair all tangled and the exposed pieces of skin covered with a shiny layer of sweat.

"Shit, sweetheart, you look goddamn good when you're all messed up like that..." He eyed you intently and leaned down, his heavy frame caging you in underneath him, one hand trailing a line from your still heaving chest, between your breasts and up to your throat.

"T-That was.. wow. Just... wow." Clearly illiterate and 50 IQ-points dumber post-orgasm, you cleared your throat, trying to compose yourself. While you were a little disappointed that you still hadn't really fucked, he did what he promised to do. Got you off - and how. You were grateful.

Sad that it was over, maybe even sadder that the chances of a repetition were likely zero - Vox was a goddamn overlord, and who were you other than a nobody with a hard-to-please cunt?- but grateful nonetheless. And you felt the need to let him know that.

"I don't know how to than... w-what are you doing?"

You sat yourself up on the elbows with a dumbfounded expression as Vox began to undress himself, his jacket, bow tie and undershirt discarded within seconds onto the ground and he practically pounced you as he began to undo the belt of his slacks, trapping you in between his legs and under the very prominent hard-on he sported.

"What, you really thought that was it? Make you cum once, win my bet and ding-dong-ditch like a fucking amateur?" Vox laughed as he pulled his massive length out of his pants - Words were your bread and butter but they would ever fail you to describe the gloriousness that was his cock.

Almost as thick as your underarm, smooth and almost shiny, glowing with built-in LED lights along the underside of his shaft and practically weeping with precum. He knelt down on the sofa, taking your hand to run it over its full length, smearing the sticky residue along your fingers, his almost bioluminescent cum dripping thick and slowly from the angry swollen tip. "Fuck no, sweetheart. In case you forgot, let me remind you..."

He leaned down to your ear, a violent electric bold jolting from his cock through your hand right into your overwhelmed, disbelieving brain as he guided you to line him up with your still throbbing entrance.

"I always finish what I start."

Vox had never been in a better mood.

His phone - finally surviving for more than just a few days, since his win against Valentino prevented the moth pimp from smashing it, even in one of his many temper tantrums - buzzed again. A notification of another upload into the cloud. He smirked when he saw the name of the user.

The whole conversation after he fucked Val's writing savant into Limbo and back had been a fucking blast for Vox - he reveled in the morbid joy of cashing in his stake while teasing Val that he'd have to wait another eternity for the chance to make Vox star in a double length porn with him - a fantasy of the moth Vox has been always against. Not to mention that Vox had accomplished what Valentino with all his 'mighty dicks and porn mastery'-aura couldn't. Which (rightfully) sent him into his biggest hissy fit yet, so enraged that, in lieu of Vox's phone to throw against the wall, he threw his newest Robo-Assistant Kitty out the window.

Although Vox had been certain he wouldn't lose the little bet against his partner, he still felt a little relief that his ass wasn't on the next new load of crappy porn DVDs. Granted, that would've surely caused sales to skyrocket - but with his revived and improved little star author that was more than just unnecessary.

Val's fears that a good dicking with a Happy End would sort of break the little writers 'Sex-Spell' and her scripts turn into shite like the rest of Val's useless crew produced proved to be the exact opposite. Ever since Vox made her cum - on his fingers, mouth and cock for multiple times that fateful night - her scripts improved even more, resulting in stellar sales reports, a major spike in cashflow and a personal inquiry letter for a meeting from Asmodeus himself (which Vox contemplated to frame and hang over his fucking bed like a medal of honor).

And since Valentino, in his hurt pride and childish, stubborn pettiness refused to speak or fuck with him, Vox had no qualms of paying his little writer a few more visits. Every time he found impish joy in finding new ways to make her cum, and after one shag-date where he actually stayed long enough for an after-sex-cigarette and some smalltalk, he discovered that she wasn't just a kinky, but also an interesting bitch with great taste in whiskey and a crude sense of humor that was just up his alley.

"I'm curious doll." Vox said as he took another drag from the cigarette before he handed her the bud, throwing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her onto his bare chest as he lounged on the new, bigger sofa he got for her office (more space and much more versatility) "What the fuck did you do to end up in hell? You don't seem like the ax-murder type."

She chuckled mischievously. "I was a pretty popular crime author back upstairs. I hit a pretty bad writer's block, and decided to get in some field work to inspire me for more creative ways of murder. No axes, but I did have a fable for knives." She grinned, inhaling the thick smoke as he laughed and the way her tits pressed into his skin had him almost hard again. "You know what's the most ironic part?" She asked, putting the bud out in the ashtray on her side table and glanced back over her naked shoulder to him, a devious glint in her eyes. "I got the electric chair for that." That woke his cock fully up again, and he couldn't help but take her for another round.

His assistant babbled something about his schedule, but Vox didn't listen. Instead, he planned on visiting her office again, maybe he'd even stay after and order sushi for two, who knew? The media Overlord smiled smugly as he opened the database and looked over the newest script you had uploaded to the cloud. It was when he read the title that he burst into ringing laughter.

'Electrocutie - One Big Cock Shock'

[averycutesalamander]

pls write yan!boothill OMG WHO SAID THAT

ohoho....!! i must confess that im quite picky when it comes to yandere content, bc i don't particularly like the extreme end of the spectrum. physical violence and straight noncon in particular don't click for me (absolutely no shade to people who like that tho, you do you!!) buuuuuuut ..... i mean, im the one writing?? so i can do whatever i want??? so alright here you go :) also check my reblog for.. a lot of rambling lmao

may i present to you: my interpretation of boothill in love, but he has a few too many screws loose. warning for relatively vague descriptions of violence and, uh... yandere stuff. you know how it goes.

In all honesty, Boothill is not a "love at first sight" type. His attraction to you is a gradual, budding thing, built over many repeated encounters. He's emotionally isolated himself, after all - built a wall thick enough to muffle the whispers of his past, smothering it in a slurry of rage and sorrow. It'll take time for him to let down his guard for long enough to even register the feelings you conjure in him - a flutter in his chest every time you smile at him, a spark of joy every time he makes you laugh, a strike of fondness every time he looks at your pretty face when you aren't paying attention.

And beneath it all, a low, simmering greed, a hunger, a yearning; the urge to bite and devour and never let go.

The pressure builds with time, as the two of you grow closer. He visits often, though not so often that it would catch the IPC's attention. You laugh and joke and tease, playfully flirting with him yet keeping a healthy, platonic distance. (He very pointedly and stubbornly ignores the way his heart soars when you look at him like that - like you want to pull him into your bed and let him take you apart, piece by ruinous piece. It's just harmless fun, after all.)

(Right?)

Despite the yawning fractures in the wall he's created, despite the increasing complexity of his feelings for about you, he still hasn't untangled whatever complicated web of feelings that's arisen around you, content to leave himself oblivious for the time being - until you make a joke about him marrying you and sweeping you away on some bizarre galactic adventure, and he damn-near bluescreens.

(He hates, hates, hates that the first thing he feels is something adjacent to the feeling a cat gets when it finally corners a particularly unruly mouse, akin to the thrill he gets whenever an enemy exposes a weakness. A sick, twisted kind of satisfaction.)

His mind churns as the wall cracks, wavers-

...and crumbles.

He panics. He makes a flimsy excuse about getting a notification through his neurochip, about needing to help out a fellow ranger - and he feels even better worse when you believe him unhesitatingly, sending him off with a sweet little "Be safe!" just as you always do.

It's only after he leaves the planet that he thinks about how much you've grown to trust him, about how damn gullible you are, about how often you give him the benefit of the doubt, about how kindly you've always treated him in spite of (or perhaps because of) his dozens of strange quirks. Everything unravels, threads spilling from his fraying mind and spilling between his fingers, and when the tattered fabric settles-

He simply can't deny it. He's in love with you.

It takes some time for him to piece himself back together - weeks of complete silence from him, your texts going unanswered. Every time he sees a fresh notification from you, his heart twists with guilt - but he's not ready to face the music. Not yet.

He comes crawling back to you, sooner or later. He knocks on your door with the most sheepish, guilt-ridden look on his face that you've ever seen, a rich bouquet laden with yellow roses and purple hyacinths tucked timidly in his arms. He lies about why he left - says it was all because of a mission that got more complicated than it should have, and it wasn't safe to reply to your messages - but when he tells you that he's sorry, he means it genuinely.

He's a bit disturbed by the sensation in his gut - that foul, wicked satisfaction when you accept his apology with barely a slap on the wrist, cheerily inviting him inside to catch up. You tuck the flowers neatly into a vase, chatting easily with him as you carefully arrange them.

"It's alright!" you say, waving dismissively at him when he murmurs another apology. "I know you're busy. I can't be your biggest priority, obviously. You've got more important things going on."

(You don't have a clue how wrong you are.)

He integrates back into your life like he never left. When he has the time, he sneaks his way back onto your planet, knocking on your door or searching for you in your usual spots. You get impossibly closer; your playful flirting goes from blatantly humorous to something foggier, something more ambiguous, teasing the line between platonic and something heavier. He matches you step by step, returning your advances with just a little extra spice, his eyes a bit darker and his smile a bit wider.

He tries to be patient - god, does he try - but there's an itch that's bloomed beneath his metal, impossible to scratch, impossible to sate, made worse by every little joke you make about kissing him or touching him or marrying him or letting him spirit you away. The pressure builds further and further, the tension winding tighter and tighter, the anticipation bubbling higher and higher.

(He will never, ever admit that he truly contemplates stealing you away, crowding you onto a ship and carting you off so he can always keep an eye on you, can always guarantee your safety. His paranoia has been building since he recognized his feelings for you; it's taken every ounce of restraint in his body to stop himself from giving into the urge, from crowding you, from suffocating you, from locking you away like a fragile songbird in a cage.)

(He's torn between his protectiveness and his understanding that you deserve freedom. You deserve independence and a life that isn't tied directly to him. He doesn't even know if you return his feelings. But...)

(But there's that nagging feeling in the back of his head, that pestering little voice that grows louder by the day. You'll be safer with me, it says, dark and tempting, bursting behind his teeth. I can make you happy. I can keep you safe. I can show you pieces of the universe that you've never seen before. I can love you like no one else ever could. I can hold you and cherish you and consume you and-)

(He takes that little voice and wraps his hands tight around its throat, frantically trying to suffocate the noise, terrified by its allure. But it's always there, lingering, lurking - because the call is coming from inside the house.)

Something gives, eventually.

When he inevitably breaks, his lips crashing heatedly and messily into yours, there are two paths ahead - but the difference is ultimately moot, because they collide not long after.

Perhaps you reciprocate. Perhaps you melt against his lips, your arms coiling around his shoulders and drawing him further into you. Perhaps you whimper when his hands trail downward, squeezing at your hips. Perhaps you pull away with a gasp, your pupils blown wide, your heart pounding when you see the look in his eye - dark and hot and desperate and hungry. Perhaps you accept his quiet declaration of affection with open arms, returning it in full, your eyes sparkling with joy.

Or perhaps you reject him. Perhaps you freeze like a startled deer before pushing him away, your face slack with shock. Perhaps you apologize, stumbling over your words, your heart thundering in your chest when you see the look in his eye - dark and cold and empty and hungry. Perhaps you gently tell him that you don't feel that way about him - that you only see him as a friend.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter.

...Because Boothill - careful, meticulous Boothill - has slipped up, and the IPC finds you.

After he leaves next, whether that be with a broken heart or a giddy one, a trio of IPC employees pluck you up from the street in broad daylight, shoving you into a dark transport ship for "questioning." And once they bring you to an IPC space station, they do indeed question you - though it feels more like an interrogation, considering that you've been tied ankle-and-wrist to a chair like you're a dangerous serial killer and not a regular civilian.

"Suspected colluding with the criminal known as Boothill," your "interviewer" tells you flatly, idly thumbing at the knife in their hand. "Camera footage, reports from neighbors, records from his Synesthesia Beacon... All clearly show that he has made repeated visits to your planet and your home. We're in the business of knowing why."

Perhaps you keep your mouth shut and refuse to divulge anything, no matter how close that knife gets to your bare skin. Perhaps you break when it begins to slice into your flesh, drawing blood from your body and tears from your eyes and stuttered words from your lips. Perhaps you grit your teeth and bear it, unwilling to betray the man you've grown so fond of.

Or perhaps you cave immediately. Perhaps you sell him down the river the first chance you get, frantic explanations spilling from your lips. Perhaps you tell them that you had no idea he had such a massive bounty on his head. Perhaps you panic when they find the information insufficient and draw the knife on you anyway, deaf to your begging and pleading as they wet your skin with blood.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter.

...Because a distant explosion rocks the entire space station, and the flashing lights from the silent alarms interrupt your interrogation.

You're left alone when the IPC agent flees, locking the door behind them with a heavy clunk. Minutes pass as you fumble desperately with your restraints, your body pulsing with pain; a cacophony of gunshots and screaming penetrates the thick walls, growing louder and louder, your heart pounding faster and faster.

There's a noise just outside the door - a horrifically wet noise, like raw flesh on tile. You freeze like a rabbit that's just heard the panting of a starving wolf, far too close for comfort.

Silence. Your head aches from the flashing red lights.

Suddenly, steel fingers wedge into the gap between the locked door and the wall, single-handedly tearing it open and breaking the hydraulic lock with inhuman ease. Metal crunches and squeals, piercing the quiet - and there he stands, right in the doorway, a silhouette of black and red.

Never in your life have you seen him this manic.

His white hair drips with scarlet and his teeth are bared; his eyes are alight with rage, a shock of bright crimson among the dark smears of blood and viscera that coat him head to toe. In the light of the alarms, he looks like the perfect picture of a killer from a horror movie; violence and slaughter, just waiting to be unleashed. When his gaze locks onto you, there is a long moment of utter stillness; instinctual terror floods your entire body in a cold flash, because there isn't so much as a glimmer of humanity in those eyes - only pure, boiling, ravenous, frantic anger.

For a heartbeat, you're convinced he's going to rip you apart with his teeth.

Then, as if he finally registers who you are, the madness evaporates, replaced by a nearly manic sort of relief. He rushes to your side, looking you over; you don't miss the flash in his eyes - seething, smoking fire - when he spots your injuries. In the same breath, he snuffs it out, focusing instead on breaking your binds with his bare hands.

You're already crying when he takes you up into his arms, cradling you close to his chest and unwittingly smearing IPC blood onto you. "It's alright, sweetheart," he murmurs, soft and reassuring, a beacon of comfort in a sea of terror. "I'm right here. I've got ya. No one's ever gonna take ya from me again, okay?"

(Maybe if you weren't in shock, you'd be startled by his words. As it stands, though, they're like music to your ears, like a warm blanket settled over your shoulders, like a tight hug from someone you trust with your life.)

He encourages you to press your face into his shoulder - mercifully free of blood - as he carries you through the carnage he's left in his wake, the jangle of his spurs and your muffled sobs echoing through the silent halls. Your entire body shivers at the noise of him stepping into some unidentifiable slurry of viscera, and he thumbs at your back in an effort to soothe you, speaking quietly into your ear about everything and nothing.

Time passes in a blur of tears. He takes you to the ship he, uh... commandeered to get here, ducking into the bathroom and settling you gently - so very gently - onto the floor. Or, rather, he tries to - because your fingers are frozen stiff in his jacket, your grip unrelenting.

"You just wait here for a sec, alright?" he whispers softly, the chill of his hand settling lightly against your wrist; the blood there still feels warm to your delirious mind. "Gotta get the autopilot started, okay? I'll be right back."

You're both surprised when you shake your head insistently, your eyes wet and pleading. In an instant, he softens, his heart aching in his chest.

"Alright, sweetpea," he breathes, carefully picking you up again. "I've got ya."

He keeps you cradled to his chest as he walks to the cockpit, holding you easily with one arm as he gets the ship moving. Reinforcements are on the way, no doubt - but you'll both be long gone by the time they get here.

(Maybe the IPC will get the message when they find the scene he's left behind - when they view the camera footage and see the rampage he went on. Decapitation and disembowelment is a new one, even for him...)

(...but he needed to make it clear that no one, no one, touches what's his and gets away with it.)

When the engine is purring beneath his feet and the rumble of FTL travel is humming in the walls, he brings you back to the washroom and settles you to the tile again, gently untangling your grip from his jacket. You're in shock, he's sure, so he's careful to continue talking to you as he wets a towel with warm water, murmuring soft reassurances as he wipes the blood from your skin, handling you like you're glass.

Once you're clean, he messily towels himself off to get the worst of the mess off, then brings you to the captain's quarters, digging around in the closet to find something comfortable for you. Your shaking fingers cause you trouble, so he gently eases your ruined clothes off, his eyes respectfully averted as he helps you redress. He takes one look at the messy, used bedding and promptly decides to change the sheets. (Something within him stirs and snarls at the thought of you smelling like anyone else.)

Finally, when all is said and done, he eases you beneath the covers, brushing away the last remnants of your tears. His heart is torn between singing with joy and aching with pain when you reach up and take his hand in yours, your fingers wrapping tight around his.

"Gotta go wash up, honey," he murmurs, watching you closely as you sink into the protective huddle of the blankets, exhaustion painting your features. "That alright? I'll be fast."

(He tries very hard to ignore the flutter in his chest from the look in your eye - like you're genuinely considering whether or not you need to stay near him, like you aren't sure if you can bear the distance.)

(He also tries very hard to ignore the little pang of disappointment when you slowly nod, releasing his hand.)

He cleans himself up with record efficiency, resigning himself to wearing clothes that are a size or two too small until he can wash his usual outfit. The clothes are for your sake, really; it's not like he has any, uh... equipment to expose - not yet - but he's relatively sure that it would make you uncomfortable anyway.

By the time he steps lightly into the room again, you're asleep.

For a long, long moment, he's struck stupid by the sight of you, by the softness of your face in rest.

Fuck, you're beautiful. He knows it in his heart, feels it in his core, senses it in his chest - you're the prettiest little thing he's ever seen.

(And you're all his, now.)

His fists clench, and he swallows down the thought like bitter poison. (You deserve better than this - better than him. He's a broken man, he knows - a messy reconfiguration of a thousand corpses, glued together by hatred and grief. He could never love you the way you deserve. He could never-)

He's broken from his rapidly spiraling thoughts when you twitch, a tiny furrow appearing in your brow. A surge of emotion nearly bursts in his chest - the urge to comfort, to protect, to soothe - and he slowly circles to the other side of the bed, climbing into the empty space and settling beneath the blankets. Hesitantly, he wraps one arm lightly around your waist, drawing you against him with your back pressed tight to his chest.

His heart soars when he feels you instantly relax, the tension fleeing your body.

(It's fine. This is fine. He'll make everything better. No matter what he has to do, who he has to kill, he'll make everything better.)

(He's not wrong - but he also doesn't need to disable the button on the inside of the ship that opens the exit hatch. You don't need to know that; he doesn't need to acknowledge that.)

A handful of days pass like that. When he stops by a market to get supplies for you, he gently tells you that it's best for you to stay in the ship for now; odds are that you actually have a bounty on your head as well, now.

As time passes, he tries not to suffocate you, tries not to hover, wary of putting you under any more stress - but it's ultimately a useless task.

When you finally, tentatively ask him about going home, his brain goes numb, the world snapping into sharp focus. He turns his gaze to you, disturbingly absent of emotion.

"It ain't safe for ya there, now that those IPC dogs know to look for ya," he says, his voice far too even.

When tears begin to bud in your eyes, it finally sweeps up some sympathy in his chest, his entire face softening. He takes your shaking hands in his, tenderly grazing your knuckles with his thumbs.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he rasps, reaching up to wipe away your tears.

(He's barely sorry.)

"I don't like it either, but..."

(Yes, he does.)

"It's safest for ya to stick with me, alright?"

(Wishful thinking. He could find somewhere for you to stay - some quiet planet outside of the IPC's reach, where you could live without worry. He could send you credits regularly. He could make sure you were happy and secure, independent of him.)

(He won't.)

(He could. He should.)

[taylorman2274]

Reverse Isekai Genshin Shenanigans #2

Characters: Venti, Kaeya, Diluc, Xingqiu, Zhongli

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

"Is everything to your liking, Venti?" you asked.

"Oh none of that, [Y/N]," Venti responded with a small smile. "No need to be so formal around me."

The two of you were currently in the living room of your apartment. Since Venti was here, you had planned on showing him some of the stuff around your place. As for how Venti got here in the first place...

It's kind of a long story.

But to make that story short, Venti told you that Albedo and the Traveler had been working on a device that can establish a linked portal between Teyvat and Earth. From what you understand, it's kind of how you are able to access Teyvat on your computer, but this time it's the other way around.

It's honestly surprising how quickly it took them to reach you.

"However," Venti began, raising a finger. "Before you show me any more stuff, do you by chance happen to have any wine around? I am quite curious to see how your world's wine holds up to Mondstadt's."

You shook your head. "Nope. Sorry, I don't drink."

"You don't?!" Venti gasped. "Well that's no fun! Life is so much better when indulging in fabulous wine."

"My liver would say otherwise." you quipped.

Venti, ignoring you, continued. "It's unfortunate, really. And I was just beginning to get my hopes up high," he sighed. "But alas, I guess a bard's stomach will have to go empty for now."

You could tell that he was joking, but you still felt like helping him out. He was your guest, after all.

Luckily, your apartment was in the middle of a shopping complex.

"How about this. There's a wine store nearby. I can walk down and grab you something. Would that be alright?"

Venti's eyes are shining so bright you nearly covered your eyes to stop from going blind.

"Ohoho, really now?" he smirks, before giving a Knight of Favonius salute. "Lead the way then, [Y/N]. I shall be right behind you."

You sighed. "No, Venti. I can't risk you being seen by other people. Just tell me what you want and I'll go get it."

"Not a chance!" he happily exclaimed, skipping towards the door. "A decision of great importance should be trusted with an expert connoisseur such as myself."

He opened the door and gestured you towards the empty hallway. "After you, dear [Y/N]."

...

The God of Freedom has restrictions when it comes to purchasing wine apparently.

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

"I must say, [Y/N]. Your place certainly is interesting. It's both familiar and exotic."

You raised a skeptical brow at the calvary captain. "Should I be taking that as a compliment or...?"

In response, Kaeya chuckled. "I simply mean that it's unique. Let's leave it at that."

You slowly nodded. Kaeya was a hard person to read, but you think he meant it as a complement.

...You think.

"However, before we continue, do you have any drinks on hand. I'm getting a bit thirsty."

You nodded politely. "Of course, I'll go get you something right away!"

You quickly walked to the kitchen and opened your fridge. "What would you like? I've got water, milk, juice, soda..."

Kaeya thought for a second. "Do you have any wine?"

...

Goddammit.

You loudly sighed. "First of all, I don't drink. Second of all, Venti made me spend nearly $100 at the wine store, and I didn't even get to keep any of it!"

Kaeya pondered in thought some more. "A wine store...?"

Oh no.

"No..." you warned. "Don't you even think about getting me to spend more money."

Kaeya merely brought a hand to his hip, "But I am a guest, am I not? It is common courtesy for the guest to be treated respectively after all."

...

You hate it when they're right.

You sighed again. "Fine..."

Kaeya softly smiled. "Excellent. I can't wait to see what they have to offer."

Thankfully, Kaeya was nice enough to settle for only one wine bottle.

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

"I'm sorry if this isn't to your liking, Master Diluc."

"Please, [Y/N]. Just Diluc is fine. No need for formalities when we're not in Teyvat."

He began to look around at his surroundings.

"Though I am curious as to why you decided to bring me to a restaurant of all places."

"Because you didn't want to go to the wine store." you replied, deadpan. "Which honestly surprises me considering you own the biggest winery in Mondstadt."

Diluc did not look impressed. "I've seen enough wine in my life already, it does not make any difference if I go see anymore."

You shrugged your shoulders. "Suit yourself."

You looked back down at the menu in your hands, reading its contents for something good to order.

"...Is there another reason why you brought me here?"

You looked up at him. "...I mean yeah, there is, but it's nothing important."

Diluc crossed his arms. "Oh? What is it?"

You pointed to the top of his menu. "It's the name of the restaurant."

He looked down towards the menu and read the name. "Firebirds? What of it?"

You tilted your head. "...You don't get it?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Get what?"

"Ah, forget it," you waved a hand. "I just thought it was something funny."

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

"Where are we heading, my liege?"

"Somewhere I think you'll really like."

The two of you walked through the front doors and stopped just a few steps afterward. To the naked eye, books upon books laid upon rows and rows of shelves.

As expected of a library.

You looked at Xingqiu and couldn't help but chuckle at the wide-eyed expression he was giving. His mouth also hung open comically.

"Easy now, Xingqiu, don't go drooling all over the floor now." You turned and pointed towards the front desk. "I figure that this place might be too big for you to handle so I trust that any questions you have you'll ask the librari- aaannnnnnnnnd he's gone."

...

You looked away for five seconds and you've already lost the book lover.

Is this how parents feel whenever they lose sight of their kids?

You couldn't help but chuckle as you shook your head. You suppose this was to be expected after all. When Xingqiu sets his sights on a book of choice, there's not much that will drag him away from it.

Knowing that he had no reason to leave the library, you began walking around the building searching for him.

You did find him after a few minutes. He had grabbed a seat on top of a beanbag and was nose deep in a book in his hands. Stacked next to him were a ton of other books that he presumably collected.

However, as you walked closer to him, you could see a troubled expression on his face.

"Is something wrong?" you questioned.

Xingqiu lowered the book from his face. "Sorry, my liege, I seem to be unable to read this. I can't understand any of the words."

...

Ah crap, you forgot about that.

"Do you think you could read this to me?" he asked, handing the book to you.

You nodded. "Sure, I can do that."

Book in hand, you plopped down on another beanbag next to him and started to read. You had no other plans for the day, so you were fine with hanging around the library for a little bit.

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

You didn't feel like going out today. It didn't matter who asked, you were exhausted.

"Hmmm..."

Even if that someone was an over 6,000-year old retired Archon.

To be quite frank, you were terrified to be in Zhongli's presence. Sure, this isn't the first Archon you've met in person, but Venti does a superb job at hiding his status. Nobody can take a look at him and think that he's an Archon.

Zhongli on the other hand, has this imposing aura around him. How does Hu Tao not feel threatened by this man?

"So this is where you're able to guide us from?"

You nodded. "Yes sir."

After showing Zhongli around your apartment, he expressed an interest in seeing the device you use to guide them. Not thinking ahead, and because you were terrified of telling an Archon 'no', you agreed.

...Okay, you did try to tell Venti 'no', but that's different!

Now, you were frantically trying to piece together a convincing story about how your guidance is not part of a video game and everything that they've come to know was written, modeled, and designed by a company. Existential crisis are not fun to deal with.

However, Zhongli isn't stupid. There's a high percent chance he'll see through your lies.

...Basically, you're fucked.

You focused back on the computer. The main menu was playing. You sneaked a peak at Zhongli. He appeared to be lost in thought.

"Need me to explain anything?" you asked, hesitantly.

Zhongli nodded. "Please."

You sighed. Here goes nothing.

"So to start things off, there's this company called Hoyoverse. This company is responsible for maintaining a stable connection between here and Teyvat. That's why you saw their name appear on the screen earlier. This down here is the region that the connection is held. If I click on that, I'm able to change to another region. However, I'm gonna keep it on this one since I get the best connection from there."

"Then below that is my User ID. Going back to Hoyoverse for a moment, it's not just one connection they're responsible for. They're able to hold thousands of connections at once."

You saw Zhongli open his mouth so you stopped talking for a moment. "But I've never known anyone other than you guiding us. How can it be that there are multiple connections to the same place?"

You shook your head. "No, it's not multiple connections to one Teyvat. It's multiple connections to different Teyvats. Think of it as parallel universes if you will. Through this connection, I am able to guide people such as you. However, through another connection, someone else is able to guide another Zhongli. Does that make sense?"

You nearly breathed a sigh of relief when he nodded his head. "I see. Please, continue."

"Right. Next, you have these two buttons over here. If I click on the top one, you'll see ways to interact with other connection members as well as the company itself. Also, you have the fair use statement and terms of service. These are just the rules I need to follow while guiding you guys. If I break any of these rules, my access is revoked and the connection gets terminated."

Zhongli looks at the screen for a brief period before turning to you with his arms crossed. "You say these are rules."

You nodded. "Yes sir."

"...They sound more like contracts to me."

...

"I mean..." you scratched the back of your neck. "I wouldn't say contracts, per se. I guess you could call them... agreements?"

Zhongli raised an eyebrow. "So now they're agreements?"

...

Welp. It was a good run while it lasted.

You sighed heavily and lowered your head in shame. "No. You're right. They're contracts."

Zhongli nodded in agreement. "As I thought."

"Sorry." you apologized.

...

"Do you know what is listed in the contracts?"

You looked up at Zhongli. He still bore a curious expression on his face. There wasn't any anger nor frustration hinted anywhere.

"Ummm... Not really."

Zhongli was quick to furrow his eyebrows. Okay, now he's looking a bit mad. "You signed a contract without reading its contents?"

You scooched your chair a tiny bit away from Zhongli to give you some more space. "Well I mean, yeah, but I'm not the only one who does that. Everyone does! Nobody's got the time nor the patience to read all of that legal jargon."

Zhongli's eyebrows furrowed even further. You might be overexaggerating out of fear, but he looks absolutely pissed. Now would be the best time to make a smart life decision.

"Oh please, Rex Lapis," you pleaded, kneeling on the floor with your hands pressed together in prayer. "I beg for forgiveness, O merciful Archon."

"Spare me your theatrics."

You winced. That didn't work out as well as you hoped.

A couple of seconds passed by before Zhongli let out a deep sigh. "I don't know what you were thinking when you decided to blindly sign multiple contracts.

...

"However, I am willing to go through each contract for you and teach you of anything you should be aware of for now and for the foreseeable future."

...

"...Huh...?"

"You mean... I'm not gonna suffer the Wrath of the Rock?"

"The Wrath of the Rock??" Zhongli asks, flabbergasted. "Did you really think I was going to hurt you?"

...

"Yes..." you answered, meekly.

Zhongli's face softened before he placed a hand on your shoulder. "I would never harm you nor let anyone bring harm you, [Y/N]. I'd be a fool to do so after all that you have done for my friends, for Liyue, and for Teyvat."

He gave a soft smile. "I'm just letting you know that you should be more careful while signing any contracts in the future. You never know if you're getting a fair agreement if you never read its contents."

You nodded, smile also on your face. "Yes sir, I'll read every contract from now on, sir."

"Good. Now then, would you kindly read the contents of each contract to me. I'll stop you if I need to mention anything worth noting."

You spent the next couple of hours going over each contract, taking notes on anything Zhongli deemed worth remembering. You guess that showing him the actual game will come at a later time.

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

Author Side Notes: Wow that Zhongli bit took up a lot of this. In all honesty, it could probably be it's own thing separate from all of the other shenanigans.

By the way, I imagine that Zhongli uses reading glasses. I don't know why I think that, but I feel like it suits him for some reason.

[miifu666]

you've seen me babble about Yan! Wukong... BUT THIS TIME ITS MACAQUE!! i know he has a big dick- I've always wanted to write abt Macaque, just never had the time to but now I do- hihihii thank you for those who asked for him ♡♡

⋆˙⟡ —CW: Yandere, ooc Macaque, noncon drugging, rough Macaque, insecurities mentioned, manipulative, art is oc x canon but drabble is canon x reader.

Yandere! Macaque

Imagining Yan! Macaque who knows which words to strike your insecurities, what sentences can fully make you dissociate in the middle of the day. To let him be the one who guides you while you're busy drowning in your self-doubt. His hands maneuvering itself to gently lay on your back, the other acting like a fence, making sure no one can bump into you. He coos about how unfortunate you are, poor little you. Yet, his smirk came forth as he looks back.

"Ohohoho! Look at how you're dressed, baby~ well … maybe this part is a little tight for you, don't you think?"

Macaque tasted the bitter end of the stick, while Wukong got to gloat about the honeyed drip he tasted. The dark simian makes sure you never see the good side of that sage, he'll inject every single downside of every trait you love about Wukong. Sometimes, he even uses your own words against you. Turning your friends and family against you for having the same traits as that monkey you adore. You think Wukong's empathetic? How does it feel to be fooled and scammed by your own friends? Wukong's ambitious? Oh but it eats you up doesn't it? You'll never be good enough for yourself. Macaque is observant, he lives in the shadow and he knows how to use your own surroundings to make you feel little.

"Well, im glad you've learned your lesson…i know its hard to accept that sometimes good things, aren't always good, sweetheart"

He remembers when Wukong was possessed by LBD, there was a sense of longing whenever he thought back to how he was also under her control. The images of you so pliant, harmless and a soft bundle of drug induced state inspires him to try and concoct his own drug. Maybe even steals one from a pharmaceutical, any drug will do. As long as it keeps you pliant and adorable, no horrible side effects, at least that's what he hoped for.

He'll study how much doses you need to ensure you're all hazy and high as a kite. Can't even reach the door to his dojo without stumbling and holding on. So cute, adorable, ugh what other words can he use? You're all helpless, who would make sure you dont stumble and hit your head now hmm? Don't worry, your dear boyfriend Macaque is here. Albeit seeing you like this strikes a sadistic side of him he didn't know of.

"Hey hey, where you going sweetheart? A drunken little thing like you shouldn't walk around without any help. What if some big bad guy takes advantage of you hmm? Poor thing"

Macaque knows what he's doing is wrong. Punishing you, keeping you hidden, heck he even silently drugged you without your knowledge just so he can fulfill his stupid fantasy. He's not delusional, there's guilt eating him up and the only way a traumatized simian can say sorry is through his actions and services. he's the best at handling things patiently with care, Macaque will take care of you in ways he knows best, and he's really good at it too.

"Ohoho what's this? You missed me this much? Hahaha so cute.. ill have a fun time ravishing you.. just lay down and let me do my thing"

Yan! Macaque who longs for someone to share the lonely nights with him, someone who he can cuddle with and talk about the stars and which stupid cat reactions you are. Its all he ever dreams of, all he longs for. Yan! Macaque understand every single insecurity you're going through, he knows how to handle it. He'll help you through it, He'll make sure you wont have lonely nights to cry yourself to sleep on. Maybe if you close your eyes hard enough, you can forget about the shackle on your leg and the bruising lovebites around your intimate areas.

"I know… its hard, its tough but life happens and.. i know my little sweetheart can pull through.. you always do. Thats what i love about you.. haha even got me a little too obsessed"

Macaque is a good mate whether you admit it or not, his observant eyes and omniscient six ears focused solely on you. The slight sniff from your nose can be a sign of an oncoming sickness, within no time he'll be ready with the blankets, warm tea, tissues and medicine! You might think he's heartless, sure he locks you up whenever he goes out, talks you down every time you feel confident enough to leave him and yeah he might have a need to see you helpless without him But! But! He's not neglectful, maybe there are times where you feel like he's infantilizing you. Yet he swears it's just an instinct, he always makes sure you get your proper meals, he even watches cooking shows just to make sure you eat your flavourful food! Not those salt and pepper tasteless things.

"I made you something~ ...what? It tastes funny? Hmmm must be the new recipe im trying, im sure you're just not used to it, hun"

[finn-writes-stuff]

Hello! Can you write for Gale, Astarion and Halsin's reaction to tav wearing the wavemothers robe? Nsfw please😳

An Intricate Jewel

Tales tell of a most wondrous fish, scales resplendent, an intricate jewel that shone beneath the sea. When it died, the Wavemother gifted its hide as a robe to her most devoted follower - and demanded she drown the sailors that killed her gem-bright fish. - Item Description

Halsin, Gale & Astarion x Reader

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Format: Headcanons

Gender Neutral Reader

Masterlist

I haven't actually gotten to this robe in my own playthrough yet, but I've seen plenty of it online lmao. This one isn't fully nsfw but it's spicy. -Finn

Halsin

"Oh. You look stunning, my heart."

He is openly admiring you any chance he gets. It is shameless because why would he be ashamed of looking at you? Of admiring all of nature's bounty before him.

He's handsy if you allow it, holding onto your hips where the slits of the dress show off your skin. Pressing kisses to the back of your neck just over the collar. Halsin always loves getting to see more of your skin, and this dress is certainly showing it off.

In general, he is a big believer in wearing whatever you want and enjoying it. He's hardly going to get jealous about others getting to admire you, so long as he's allowed to look as much as he pleases as well.

Even better, when you still have water clinging too you after being healed, dripping down your skin and making the dress cling even tighter.

You'll have him pressed up to your back to murmur in your ear about what he would like to do to you the moment you can both slip away.

And once you get the chance, he'll be between your thighs with the skirt pushed up around your hips. And you'll get to see just how long he can gold off before tearing the dress off of you completely.

Gale

"Oh! Yes, well, um, you look lovely! That sure does, well, show off your figure. Hmm. Yes."

This man is bright red and cannot look away from you. Yes, he can be blatant in his own flirting, but you make his brain shut down sometimes. And in this dress? Oh Gods

He is trying so incredibly hard to be a gentleman. He is NOT staring at your legs or the cut out in the back of the dress or how much it reveals of your chest or the way it clings to you as close as he wants to be. He is definitely not thinking about any of that. He missed his spell for unrelated reasons.

Show off in front of him, put yourself in his line of sight constantly. He will be going insane trying to stay polite and focused. And it's always a fun game to see if you can make him trail off in the middle of a monologue about magic.

Gale will spend an entire day suffering and watching you and trying not to say anything about it, but the moment the party breaks camp, he is dragging you into his tent to show you just how much he likes this dress on you.

You've left him so pent up after the whole day. He can't get enough of you, touching and grabbing and kissing you like you're the air he needs to survive.

The dress stays on until he's made sure you are both fully sated for the night. And he swears that if you wear it again he won't be so patient.

And if he's going to make a promise like that, he shouldn't be surprised when you wear it the next day.

Astarion

"Ohoho, please do say you're all dressed up for me, love."

He thinks this is delightful and would do the same thing if he could find something flattering enough.

Trying to tease him with it? No, that's his game. He's teasing you by letting his hands just barely touch you, appearing behind you to whisper in your ear about how delectable you look. Then slipping away before you can say anything back.

If he's noticing anyone else paying you too much attention, he'll make fun of them for it, but he's also likely to stick closer to your side, his arm around your waist. Showing the world that you're his.

He's the least worked up about the dress, but he likes it when you still stay by his side regardless of how much attention it gets you. He's just as much yours as you are his, and he'll be more than willing to reward you for being such a sweet thing all day.

He wants to see the way the fabric presses into your skin when you arch your back and let him sink his teeth into your neck.

[mythica0]

Trickster

🎂:Epic the musical

🧁:Polites, Odysseus, Eurylochus

🍫: Hermes

Summary: Hermes plays a neat little trick on the big trio on the ship.

A/N: more epic!! I love ler Hermes so much🙏 also, writing three lee’s is HARD yall. Once again, the ending sucks ass, sorry. I never know how to end these things 😭

Trickster

It was a normal, monotonous day on the ship.

Or, at least, it was supposed to be.

Odysseus, the captain, Eurylochus, the second in command, and Polites, the best friend and also pretty high up in the ranks, were standing together, talking about random nothings as they leaned against the railing of the ship.

Meanwhile, Hermes decided that he wanted to live up to his domain as the trickster god, and flew down to the ship, hiding off to the side.

‘Ohoho this is gonna be good.’ He thought to himself as he hid, watching his victims friends from the shadows with a smug smile. And then he used his divine powers to make a slight, barely-noticeable tingling sensation on the sides of all three men.

Due to its lightness, it wasn’t abnormal at first, and they rubbed at it once or twice but nothing too crazy. But as Hermes made it slightly more noticeable and it wasn’t going away, Odysseus commented.

“Man, what is that?”

Eurylochus raised an eyebrow and responded. “What is what?”

“There’s like a weird tingling on my side.”

The other two seemed shocked and replied in unison. “You too?!”

At this declaration, they realized that something was going on. Why else would all three of them be feeling that at the same time?

Just then, Hermes revealed himself with a laugh.

“Hey there, friends!”

“Hermes?!” They all called in shock, and then the god replied.

“The one and only!”

“Are you responsible for this?” Odysseus questioned with an air of seriousness behind his voice, although for some reason he found that it lost all bite, as the tingling sensation made him have the urge to smile.

“You bet I am! Let’s take it up a notch, shall we~?” Hermes lilting voice replies, and with a wave of his hand all three men feel the tingling grow into a true tickle.

Polites instantly burst into giggles, but the more stoic two tried to hold back.

“Ehehahahaha hehehehermehehehes, whyhyhy!”

“I just wanted to, seemed like fun! It’s a neat little trick, ain’t it? Come on, Friends, why are you holding back? Laughing is fun, just let yourself go!” He directs the latter part of his statement to the two that were repressing their laughter, holding their hands over their mouths as their shoulders shook with the effort. Odysseus shook his head, not wanting to give in.

“Well then, I guess I’ll have to up the ante a bit~” Hermes drawls again, and then moves the sensation to Odysseus’ thighs and Eurylochus’ armpits, their respective worst spots. Although Polites was already giggling, he decided to move it for him as well, to his tummy, the buzzing sensation increasing his giggles.

“Eee hehehehermehehes thahahat tihihickles! Ahahahahaha!” He squeaks slightly, doubling over and hugging himself around the middle, as if to block the sensation, but it doesn’t do anything for it, the sensation being entirely magical, as if coming from inside.

“I know, isn’t it great~?”

Meanwhile, Eurylochus finally broke, deep, rumbling chuckles leaving him from the feeling. Odysseus, however, was still stubbornly hanging on.

“Ahahahaha hehehermehehehes, stohohop thihis!”

“No way, I think you could use a laugh! And you, Friend,” he addresses Odysseus, “are fighting far too hard. Let the laughter consume you, my friend!” He waves his hand again, causing the feeling to intensify for all three men, and Odysseus breaks.

“Ppffft- shihihiit! Ahahahahaha!”

“There we go! Now was that so hard~”

Now all three men were giggling and laughing, squirming around. Hermes watched with a wide smile, and they all had very different reactions to the feeling.

Polites was doubled over and hugging himself still, but was also clearly enjoying himself, never once saying ‘no!’ Or ‘stop!’. Eurylochus had his arms snapped to his sides, still laughing with deep rumbling chuckles, protesting loudly. Odysseus was super embarrassed, blushing as he laughed wildly in front of his crew.

“Hehehehehermehehes, STOHOHOP!”

“Aww, but why~ this is so much fun!” Hermes pouts dramatically, holding his face.

“Speheak fohor yohoursehelf aHahahahaha!”

“I dunno~ you all sure sound like you’re having fun.”

“Nohoho whehehe ahaharent! Cuhuhut ihit ohout!” Eurylochus protested through his laughter, struggling to get the words out.

Polites spoke up from his spot. “Ihi dohont knohow Guhuys, Ihi thihink thihis ihis kihinda fuhun! Ehahahaha!”

“I knew you would~” Hermes coos, causing Polites to blush, but he doesn’t deny anything or protest at all.

“Since you’re having fun, why don’t I make this a little bit more interesting, hmm?” The god drawls again, once again increasing the sensation for all three men.

They’re all consumed by unrelenting tickles on their worst spots, the entire area being overwhelmed with fluttery, electric tingles that make them hysterical with laughter.

Polites can feel his entire tummy being assaulted with the ticklish sensations, feeling like prodding fingers and raspberries on every inch of the surface. He doesn’t deny that he’s having fun, small joyful tears forming in his eyes as he giggles.

Eurylochus can feel his whole underarm area being tickled ruthlessly, a buzzing electric sensation consuming him. It tickles so bad! And he is much more reluctant to admit that he doesn’t totally hate this, not even admitting it to himself.

Odysseus is certainly the most embarrassed of the three. He is supposed to be the captain, strong and respectable! But here he was, unable to stop himself from laughing loudly from the feeling of his legs being squeezed and scratched ticklishly. He feels his knees buckle and he grabs into the railing for support. He also refuses to admit to himself that he’s enjoying the feeling, the enjoyment being far overshadowed by embarrassment.

The crew has gathered around to watch the scene, cooing and cheering.

“Haha, they needed to be taken down a notch!”

“Aww, look how much fun Polites is having!”

“I know, right? He’s smiling so wide!”

“Haha, yeah, and I think Eurylochus and the Cap are enjoying it too, even if they don’t wanna admit it.”

The three blush more at the words, especially Odysseus, feeling humiliated at being reduced to a laughing mess in front of his men. Hermes watches, hovering around in various relaxed or playful positions, not deactivating or lowering the relentless divine tickles in the slightest.

“Look how cute you are~ all giggly and happy~” the trickster coos, floating like a school girl would lay on their stomach. He’s having a blast watching and causing the chaos, and he knows that his targets are too, even if two of them won’t admit it.

“Hehehehermehehes, cuhuhut ihihit ohohohout!” Eurylochus continues to protest, feeling as though he has to do something, anything to stop the sensation.

“I don’t think so, darling~ in fact, I don’t think you should be telling a god what to do~”

Eurylochus sees what Hermes is implying and quickly backtracks with giggly apologies. “Wahahait, ihihim sohohorry nononohohoho!”

Hermes giggles and intensifies the sensation anyway. “Yes~ tickle tickle tickle! Doesn’t that feel nice~”

“NoHOhoHO IHIT dohoHOESNT! STohop, PlehehHEASE!” Eurylochus’ chuckles raise to belly laughs, the sensation driving him mad.

Polites, despite how much fun he’s having right now, almost feels a pang of.. jealousy? At Eurylochus’ pleading, feeling like he’s missing out on something more intense. Picking up on this, somehow, Hermes looks at Polites with a teasing yet fond smile, speaking with a teasing lilt that makes Polites blush grow.

“Aww, is someone feeling a little jealous~? Dont worry, friend, let me help you with that~” Hermes does so, increasing the sensation for Polites as well, even adding some ticklish sensation to his sides as well, sensing just how much the optimistic man is enjoying himself.

Polites’ Jealousy immediately vanishes, replaced by a giddy panic mixed with happiness, his squeaky giggles growing louder. He nearly cheers aloud, but decides against it, not wanting to embarrass himself more than he already has. “Eehehehhahahahaha ihihits sohoho tihihickly! Ahahahahaha!”

“Aww, I know it is~ it feels good, doesn’t it~?” Polites doesn’t respond directly, but he doesn’t deny it either, and his body language conveys how he’s really feeling, so he doesn’t really have to respond.

Odysseus is leaning on the railing for support, falling nearly entirely to the floor from the unending, debilitating ticklish shocks sending through his legs. He is so embarrassed, but despite that, he’s also, maybe..having.. just a bit of fun. (It’s a lot of fun, but he’s not even gonna think about that) His worst spot is being tickled absolutely ruthlessly, the electric sensation not letting up for a single moment. His laughter is loud and frantic, but it does carry a tone of genuine joy as well.

“AhaHAhaHAHAHAH! MahahaHAKe ihihit StohohoHOP-!”

“What’s wrong, too ticklish~?” Hermes’ teasing words make his already bright red face get even brighter, his embarrassment evident on his face that’s also adorned with a wide smile, just as his two friends who are squirming and laughing besides him.

“Plehehehehease, hehehehermehehes, ihi CAHAHANT Tahahake ihihit!” Eurylochus’ voice rumbles with his deep laughter, a low, loud sound.

“Sure you can~ all you gotta do is laugh, and you’re doing just fine at that~”

“Heheheehehahahahahahaha! Ihihit tihihickles sohoho muhuhuch! Hahahahahha!” Polites’ happy giggling continues to fill the air of the ship, earning coos from the watching audience.

Hermes decides that Odysseus needs to join his friends in the more intense feeling, increasing it for him as well, making his legs fully fail, him collapsing to the floor in loud fits of laughter, kicking in order to try and expel the sensation, or at the very least deal with it. “AHAHAH- NohoHO- ahahahahahaha!”

“Oop, man down! Looks like someone’s awful ticklish~”

“AHaHAHA NOHOT THEHERE, PLEHEASE!”

“Oh, but this spot is just so fun!”

Eurylochus continues to let out Belly laughs, his being the deepest of the three, filling the air with the booming sound. “Hahahahahahaha ehehenohohough, plehehehehease! Ahahahahaha!”

“Why should I~ you all seem to be having a good time~”

Polites is still giggling happily, holding his stomach with small tears of joy rolling down his face. He is having an absolute blast right now, and is the most open about it.

Odysseus, meanwhile, was stuck in absolute ticklish agony, laughing loudly as his thighs were assaulted with ruthless tickles, forcing endless laughter from his chest. He, too, had tears of laughter falling, the feeling be so unbelievably intense, and despite the fact that he doesn’t want to admit it, it feels so good. What made it worse is that he couldn’t even fight back! There were no hands to push at, no pin to struggle against, but yet no matter how much he kicked and squirmed it did nothing to help alleviate the maddening feeling.

Eurylochus was much in the same position, arms pinned to his sides but it doing nothing to block or protect him from the intense tingling tickles on his underarms, making his deep belly laughs ring throughout the ship.

Hermes could tell that they were reaching their limit, so decided for one last hurrah before ending the feeling.

“You guys ready for a grand finale~”

“NOHOHO!”

“Plehehehehease dohohont!”

Eurylochus and Odysseus protested loudly, whereas Polites just felt flutters of anticipation in his chest.

Hermes ignored the pleas, and for said ‘grand finale’, made the three have even more intense sensations all over their most ticklish spots, driving them mad with laughter.

It only lasted for a few seconds, the men’s hysterical laughter filling the ship like a joyful symphony, but to them it felt like an hour. It was so unbelievably intense, probably the strongest tickling any of them had ever experienced.

It was absolutely unbearable, and although it was a little enjoyable, they each knew that they couldn’t take it for more than a few seconds.

After the longest 5 seconds of their lives, Hermes snapped and the sensation disappeared, leaving just residual giggles.

After a minute or so that the men took to cool their breathing and stop giggling, Hermes spoke.

“Did you have fun~~” the blush that had started to fade immediately returned in full force.

“Yeah..” Polites spoke quietly, not bothering to deny it despite it being embarrassing to admit.

“Absolutely not!” Eurylochus and Odysseus chimed in at the same time, despite it being not fully true.

Odysseus continued. “Please, never do that again.”

Hermes did an exaggerated pout. “Booo, you’re no fun~”

Odysseus just sighed. “At the very least can you not do that while I’m in front of everyone?”

“I make no promises~”

With final goodbyes and well wishes, Hermes flew off to continue his job, leaving the three flustered from the experience.

“Agree to never talk about this again?”

Odysseus spoke and the other two nodded.

“Agreed.” Eurylochus continued. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

They dispersed to do various things and continue their jobs, but they couldn’t deny that they had a slight lightness in their chests after the experience, the boredom of the day having been lifted slightly.

It was a pretty cool trick.

———THE END————————————————

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

hello >_<!! Since this account made me obsessed with Geo i found the courage to ask a request :3 (imsorryifit'snotcomfortableforyou😭)

Geo x Clumsy GN!reader (like, falling into the thinks you would least expect, so me frfr)

Bumblerbee (Geo x Clumsy! MC/Reader)

First and foremost, welcome to the Geo cult appreciation blog, Anon. Secondly, do not be shy to ask me whatever request you desire, I'm happy to be getting anything, and the fact you entrust me with this is an honorary privilege in itself. ❤️ φ(*⌒▽⌒)ﾉ

Anyway! I hope you enjoy Anon! d=(´▽｀)=b

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Bumbler: someone who makes mistakes because of incompetence.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

Geo was mildly concerned when you fell down the stairs. Then you smacked into a pole. Then you tripped on a branch.

All in the span of 13 fucking minutes.

It was honestly mildly respectable, how often one can simply bumble, trip and tumble around like you did.

You always seemed to be elsewhere mentally, not focused on your surroundings, or daydreaming away in that gorge- pretty head of yours.

People often made fun of you for it, labelling you as the school's klutz.

Unfortunately, said people who targeted you were also the same girls who liked to pick on Brittney; so when she and Crowe made you the groups' newest appendage (due to the fact Brit felt protective over you), he then began to bear witness to your marvellous collapses every time he saw you at lunch.

He expected you to cry when he first saw you fell, scraping the skin off your shins, but you instead winced and seemed to take in the fact you were an existing, living being; and you'd try to not slip away into your thoughts again.

He decided after a while that your mettle for falling must be sturdy, if you don't simply learn to pay attention to your immediate vicinity after each time it happened.

Eventually you and him held a conversation, and he acknowledged that you were...surprisingly capable.

You were intelligent, witty and even mildly attractive.

And you didn't make him want to commit arson everytime he saw you, so he grew accustomed to your existence.

Then he started enjoying it. A bit too much.

The amount of times you're either reading or otherwise preoccupied and on the verge on slipping, bumping, or falling into/onto something is astonishing.

So he eventually pulls you aside and bluntly tells you to pay attention to your surroundings, lest you one day get hurt. "You're an idiot. What happens if you bludgeon your head in? Get a concussion?" "Ohoho! Is Geo worried about my safety?" "No. I am simply tired of watching you make a circus out of yourself." "So you do care!" "I do not." "Liar, why did you pull me aside then?" "Shut up."

Anyway, he decides if you won't take care of yourself, he's gonna supervise you.

Then he notices the little skips in your step, the faraway glances you give at the sky when you deem it pretty (which is fucking always, to his dismay).

That's when you got stung by a bee.

And also when he started referring to you as a bumblerbee.

His bumblerbee.

People were obviously discombobulated at the fact he was essentially tailing you everywhere you went, but all he had to do was gift them the most malicious side-eye he would conjure.

(Geo would side-eye so hard though holy shit).

If you were distracted, he would make you tell him about your day, desiring for you to start rambling to him so he can take notes find out more about this clumsy bumblerbee that he's invested in.

Eventually your charm gets to him. He starts becoming more and more fond of you (pff, as if he wasn't already).

He now basically is always ready to firmly stop you from falling/bumping into something.

Until he realises you also get pushed down stairs for shits and giggles.

And these people already harmed Brittney, so obviously he already knows their addresses, credit card numbers and their workplaces.

If they end up temporarily disappearing/hospitalised, he had nothing to do with it.

And Geo has no reason to lie, now does he?

(Don't answer that).

Likes to watch you read, or better yet, tell him about your thoughts, he wants to know every single little detail about you what you like, dislike, want to set on fire, etc.

Acts nonchalant, but is secretly trying not to melt into a puddle.

His desire to protect you from other worthless people (and inanimate objects) is inhumanely strong. Expect him to start showing it more often as the months go by.

Asks you out when you give him a potted plant. He didn't even realise he did, he was too excited.

(You said yes. Obviously. I mean, you don't have a choice; but do you care? No! You love him too).

Will probably accidentally call you bumblebee at some point (you never let him live it down, dw). Geo really likes making sure you don't trip, after all, it means he can be close to you for as long as he wants. Which is forever. And you're more than happy with that.

[box-yippee]

Stick around

Beetlejuice x reader

(For male, female, gender neutrals, and mostly anyone!)

“Man, I need some excitement around here. Things are deader than usual.”

Just as he was about to drift off into another bout of self-pity, the air in his run-down abode shifted. A faint chill ran up his spine — something he didn’t feel often. There was someone nearby, and not just any someone. Another ghost.

“Who dares enter the lair of the great and terrible Beetlejuice?” he called out, grinning mischievously, his voice dripping with theatrical bravado. “Prepare yourself for—”

Before he could finish, you stepped out from the shadows, your form shimmering with an ethereal glow. You were a fellow ghost, though unlike Beetlejuice, you carried an aura of calm confidence. Your eyes locked with his, and for a brief second, Beetlejuice felt something strange — a flutter in his non-beating heart.

“Oh, uh, hey there,” Beetlejuice stammered, trying to regain his usual swagger. “Didn’t expect to see another ghost like you around here. Most of ‘em steer clear of the ol’ Bio-Exorcist.”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “I’m not most ghosts.”

Beetlejuice blinked, then his grin returned, wider this time. “Ohoho, I like that! Bold. Mysterious. I could get used to you, pal.”

You took a few steps closer, your eyes never leaving his. “I’ve heard about you. The chaos you cause. But I’m not here to stop you.”

Beetlejuice arched an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Then what are you here for? Because, uh, I gotta say, you’re easy on the eyes for a dead guy.”

You chuckled softly, your voice smooth like a soft breeze in a haunted house. “I’m here because I’m intrigued by you. All the stories, the madness, the fun. It’s rare to meet someone who enjoys the afterlife as much as you seem to.”

Beetlejuice’s grin turned sly, and he leaned back against the wall, crossing his legs. “Well, well, looks like I’ve got myself a fan. So, what’s your deal, handsome? You looking to join the fun? Cause I could show you a real good time in the Neitherworld.”

Your gaze softened, and Beetlejuice felt that flutter again — this time stronger. There was something different about you, something that made him feel… less alone. You weren’t just another ghost passing through his world. You were someone who got him, who wasn’t repelled by his antics.

“I’m thinking I could stick around,” you said, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “See what kind of trouble we could get into together.”

Beetlejuice’s heart, though long since dead, gave a metaphorical leap. He shot up from the couch, his grin turning downright devilish. “You, me, causing chaos? Now that’s a match made in the Neitherworld! You’re gonna love it here, babe. Stick with me, and we’ll haunt this place in ways they’ve never seen before.”

Without a second thought, you reached out, your hand brushing against his. Beetlejuice’s smirk faltered for just a moment as he felt a jolt of something he hadn’t felt in… well, ever. But being Beetlejuice, he quickly masked it with his usual bravado.

“Come on, handsome. Let’s paint this place dead… in style.”

As you both vanished into the shadows of the Neitherworld, ready to unleash a storm of fun and chaos, Beetlejuice couldn’t help but glance at you from the corner of his eye. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he wasn’t just looking for a quick laugh or a scare.

He was looking forward to seeing where this haunting partnership would lead.

[mychlapci]

Suggestion knockout as the result of an incomplete wifefication (I think that's how you spell it)

some noble he was dating tried it but he realized what was going on halfway through and decided to use it to his advantage by leaning into the persona. That mech became the first of many mechs ko would dupe into giving him everything they had to offer then ditch until ending up with breakdown.

He didn't get away without some side effects of course, he likes things clean, likes himself looking stunning, avoids combat when he can, and has a deep set need for a companion to take care of. All needs that breakdown happily satisfied until his passing leaving knockout on the prowl for a new big strong mech to satisfy himself and oh would you look at that megatron is just his type with plenty of resources to ensure he's well taken care of, whelp looks like his lord will be in for a checkup soon.

Megatron isn't sure what prompted knockouts newfound attentiveness but he's hardly complaining when he has a pretty little medic fussing over him and eagerly listening to his tales of battle while hanging off his arm like a prized accessory. It's only natural that he'd seek out a strong presence for comfort him after breakdowns passing and it's only right that megatron offer his dear medic that comfort like a good leader. A good leader takes care of his loyal followers. A good leader keeps his devoted medic safe away from the frontlines, a good leader lets his sweet little companion reward him with his tight little valve as thanks, a good leader keeps his lover pampered with presents and stuffed to the brim with transfluid just to keep that adoring gaze on him. Nothing makes him feel more like a king than lounging on his throne as he works with his beautiful little wife on his lap belly distended with tranfluid.

ohoho that is so fun. we've never mentioned what would happen if a wifefication failed. Knockout was lucky to realize that something fishy was going on, before that bastard could've turned him into an obedient little housewife that doesn't speak out of turn he robs that fucker blind and goes on to have himself a lavish little lifestyle... This only makes his relationship with Breakdown so much sweeter. He really looked at this big oaf and thought that one. And it makes what comes after even sadder.

His processor is forever altered, he needs a big strong mech at his side to take care of after Breakdown is gone, someone whose arm he can hang off of and show off his finish... Megatron is the best choice, for all his shortcomings. He's someone who can hold Knockout and bounce him up and down in his lap without breaking a sweat, a big strong husband whose shoulders he can massage... Of course though, Megatron will eventually want heirs, something Knockout never wanted to provide for his husbands before, but grief stricken as he is, he might as well submit.

[exhaslo]

Hi! I've been reading off and on and I loved puzzle pieces and I'm excited for Overtime! I do have a ask if you have the time.

The reader is a spider person and has a couple friends and is good at her job in alxmex. (I don't think I spelled that right forgive me.) but when she reports or gets missions from Miguel she clams up and doesn't really talk much just stoic and shy (definitely trying to fight the crush and just staring at him.) and he notices how different it is from the watch footage and what everyone says about reader. Layla figures out she has a crush and tells Miguel. Plot twist though the reader stays late practicing web moves in the gym and goes to the locker room/showers to rense off and change and there's Miguel waiting for her after his shower cause it's Miguel he likes to make people squirm. (I assume the gym locker room/shower there is unisex for reasons only for the plot 👀) So Miguel's there in just towel looking at the reader, and the virgin reader (cause of course she is.) is trying to be polite and not look at him and then chaos can reupt.

The idea popped into my head and I really enjoy your writing so I think it would be really fun to see how you interpret it. In my head I definitely see him going "you can look you know?" And the reader is just refusing and maybe he has to make her. I'll let you decide that lol. Anyway I really love your writing and I hope when you get this you have a good rest of your day or it gets better! 😊

Haha, the plot armor is STRONG with this one! Also, thank you! I'm glad you enjoy my series~

Warning: MINORS DNI, some smut, mentioned of sex, teasing, touch-starved Miguel

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What would it take for your eyes to gaze only at him?

Despite what everyone believes about you, Miguel could only see one side. The shy and quiet you that could barely stutter a word whenever the two of you were alone. Your gaze always avoiding his, but yet, always stares whenever you thought Miguel wasn't looking.

So what would it take for you to open to up him?

This all started with you. Miguel knew that you were always a good worker. Everyone loved you and always praised you, but you always gave Miguel the cold shoulder. At least that was what he thought at first.

Miguel remembered it like it was yesterday. You had done a mission for him and there was barely anyone at the Spider Society. You were so quiet and embarrassed that you stumbled and fell against Miguel when delivering your report.

Your hands against his chest. That sweet voice of yours apologizing profusely as those glowing orbs of yours stared into his. It felt like an eternity. Miguel almost didn't want to let you go. He had wanted you to keep touching him.

It had been weeks since that encounter, and Miguel could only get a brush of your hand ever now and then.

So, what would it take for you to touch him again?

It was getting to the point where Miguel was becoming obsessive. He had started to watch videos of you from your home world. Watching your every lively moment. You weren't quiet to others. Miguel just wanted more of you.

"Ohoho, I think I found something interesting for our little Spider creep."

"Stop calling me that, Lyla." Miguel hissed towards his AI, "What did you find?"

Lyla withheld a snicker as she pulled a video up.

"Sooooo, (Y/N), when are you joining the dating pool?" One of your friends from your world asked.

"Ah-I'm not sure," You said with a light laugh, "There is this one guy I work with...He's kind of my boss, but he is so amazing. You're going to laugh, but I clamp up and can't say a word to him!"

"Liar. You never shut up!"

"My heart just keeps racing whenever I see him! He's so handsome and perfect. I just don't think I'm good enough for someone like him."

"What's his name and how long have you liked him?"

"Miguel and call it cheesy, but it was totally love at first sight. I can't even begin to describe my dreams~"

Miguel felt flustered as he immediately turned the video off. So that was why you kept avoiding him. Unable to hide his smile, Miguel knew that it was going to be much more fun from now on. Hopefully his teasing will get you to open up more.

---------

With a heavy sigh, you scurried your way inside the Spider Society. It had been a long day of both work and crime fighting. Alchemax had you up to your head with paper work, then of course your Rhino decided to cause some havoc in the city.

You were due to a nice shower.

Hearing the alarm go off, you let out another sigh as you accepted the anomaly request on your watch. You entered the different world and nearly gasped as Miguel swung over you. Your face turning bright red as you got a good look at his ass.

Unsure if you should stay or not, you panicked. What if you messed up in front of Miguel?

Deciding to stay, you hurried to Miguel's side. This time the anomaly was a Doc Ock. You scrunched your face up as this Doc Ock used mud like attacks.

"Watch out, (Y/N)!" Miguel called out.

You felt your spider senses tingle as you went to dodge an attack. Before you could move, you felt yourself being pulled. Gasping sharply, you landed in Miguel's arms as you pulled you to safety. His grip tight around your waist.

"You take him from behind, I'll go front." Miguel said.

"A-"

You squeaked in response, unable to say anything. Instead, you followed his lead, trying to forget about his arm around you.

You knew you were going to sleep good tonight.

---------

Miguel had his eyes on you during the whole fight. He wanted to touch you more. Using the fight as an excuse, Miguel kept grabbing your arm, pulling against your waist and even bumping into you. Any kind of touch was what he needed.

Once the Doc Ock was captured, Miguel had you follow him back to the Spider Society. By this time nearly everyone was getting ready to go home.

"Ugh, I need a shower," You whispered, "Um....M-Miguel...G-Give me like....twenty....twenty minutes....p-please?"

God. You sounded so sweet. Miguel knew he was handsome, but to make such a outgoing person like you stutter and freeze was new. Hell, it started to turn him on.

"Sure,"

At this rate, Miguel needed to be the one to make the first move. These little touches here and there weren't going to get you out of your shell. Having an idea of where you were going, Miguel just chuckled as he decided to have some fun.

---------

A shower was definitely what you needed. Washing off the sweat, stress and mud from the way was so refreshing. Letting the water run down your body, you started to recall how Miguel kept touching you during the fight.

This was the most he had ever made contact with you. It was so hot and addicting. Knowing that the place was empty, you decided to give in to your small urges.

Letting your hands roam, you leaned against the shower wall and started to think of Miguel. The way his hands felt against your body. If only they could touch you elsewhere. His deep, charming voice whispering dirty things in your ear.

"Mhm~"

Imagining Miguel finally kissing you. His fingers making a mess of your sex while you cry and beg. How wonderful would that be?

"Sounds like someone needed to destress."

You gasped, recognizing the voice to be Miguel's. Your face was probably a million shades of red as you bend down and tried to hide inside the shower. Though, there really wasn't any use since he knew you were in here now.

"(Y/N)?" Miguel hummed lowly, "It's okay to show your face."

"B-But..." You covered your face, feeling embarrassed, "Sorry,"

"For what?"

Hearing the curtain open, you squeaked and looked up at Miguel. His lower half in a loose towel as he looked down at you with what seemed like a seductive grin.

"How cute. All wrapped up?" Miguel chuckled lowly.

This was the most you've ever had a conversation with him. Registering that you were naked, you tried to close the curtain again, but Miguel stopped you. He bend down to your level, his towel falling off, causing you to look away.

"Don't be shy, (Y/N), you can look."

Your mind was racing a mile a minute. Unable to refuse such a offer, you slowly turned your head to face Miguel. Your whole body had probably turned red from embarrassment as you tried to hide. How could Miguel say something to tempting?

"You're cute," Miguel chuckled as he grabbed your chin, making you look at him, "I like you, (Y/N). I like you a lot."

"Huh?"

Your eyes widen to Miguel's confession. Trying to stutter the words out, you decided to take the leap. Leaning forward, you pecked Miguel's lips to respond to him.

That was a great mistake.

Miguel pinned you against the wall, his lips all over yours. Your body resting against his hips as his hands roamed your body. You weren't sure where to touch him, so you kept your hands around his neck. His tongue ravishing your mouth in the meantime.

Your body arched slightly as you felt his dick poking against your entrance. You wanted to say that this was moving too fast, but at the same time....You wanted him to fuck you.

Stroking your hands against his chest, you felt Miguel groan. He broke the kiss, watching you pant for air.

"Don't stop touching me, (Y/N). I want to see the side of you that everyone else sees."

"Mhm," You still felt shy towards his words, "T-This....This is the side I...I will only show you..."

"Even better," Miguel said with a grin as he captured your lips again.

You whimpered into the kiss, enjoying every second of it. His hands reaching your breasts, giving them a squeeze while he moved his hips to rub his dick against your cunt. You were feeling hot and wet, ready for this to escalate.

"Thank god the showers are still open. MJ and I had a fight so I'm sleeping here tonight." One of the Peters said as they entered the shower room.

Miguel was quick to shut the curtain, covering your mouth with his, wanting to keep you quiet.

"I wish I got into a fight. I got kicked out of my apartment because I couldn't' pay rent in time. I gotta crash here until I get a new place."

Wrapping your arms around Miguel's neck, you gently tugged against his hair to have him stop. Miguel pulled away, smirking down at you. He leaned towards you, nibbling against your ear,

"You really shouldn't have done that," He whispered, "We'll going to continue this in my office."

You rolled your lips inward as you just nodded. Miguel still held onto you, wanting to make sure you knew how hard he was. Covering your face against his chest, you tried your best to hide your smile.

This was the best day ever.

And the fun hadn't even started yet.

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Hope you enjoyed!!

[moons-of-dewclan]

Uhh I’m sure you’ve been asked this before but!!! Do you have any advice for making a clangen comic? I’m kinda doing a disaster clan but in intervals of 5 moons, and I can’t fit in the specific prompts on one image (and I’m too lazy to draw like 5 pages) so uhmmm do u have any advice? :3

The reason I go in intervals of five is because I’m a curious guy and I draw and play clangen on separate devices so uhhh oh god am I oversharing I’ll shut up now

MY TIPS WON'T BE GREAT bc my whole art experience is 'do what i want when i want how i want and if it's not fun i don't do it' SO IT'S NOT A TECHNICAL THING BUT LKASNDLKASD I CAN TRY!! what's been good for me in clangen is, • always mark down your seasons! bc it sucks to forget what season the event took place in when you go to draw it • don't shove every tiny prompt and event into a moon if you don't want to (it's a lot of work..) • it's ok to have a clan of 40 cats and only follow 1 or 2 main characters. if the pressure if the amount of cats you end up with is too much, IGNORE EM. + silhouettes are ok if you wanna imply a full camp. use stamps even • IF an event happens that you think is going to have a damper on your enjoyment for the comic (like if your favourite cat dies), RELOAD AND PRETEND IT DIDN'T HAPPEN. authenticity is not Real in media you make for fun. unless it's fun for you for favourite main character BillyBreeze to kick the bucket to a random event, you don't have to save and go with it. if it makes you go 'euuhh..' and not 'NOOO!! (smiles in hidden)', 'ok' or 'OHOHO ;)) OMG COOL', screw it. never put anything above your muse and inspiration. • which brings me to, save after every event you like happening! so patrol events, or something. in case randomly something rly weird happens that doesn't make sense with the story or what your cat would do, you can just restart • if you develop your cat, and they do something wildly out of the personality you developed/hc for them, you can ignore it in favour of character consistency (I WILL NOT LIE, i wanted to 100% never change or refuse anything in the game, but i changed lyre's personality after the prompt came up saying that he MAULED VANILLABRIGHT FOR DOUBTING HIS LEADERSHIP. ARE U INSANE HE WOULD NEVER. plus character development is allowed, even if ingame events don't represent it well. so do what you gotta do. game files are easy to change!) • FOLLOW THAT LAZINESS. and follow fun. do what will keep you having the most fun through the entire thing. if you wanna end at 30 moons, do it. if you wanna stop and restart and do a different idea, do it. your own enjoyment matters most. so the second you go 'ugh i don't wanna'- DON'T. whatever it is, don't. nobody is paying you for this, do what you want. (unless they are paying you for it.. then damn, lucky)

[m1dnitefloat]

hi!!! i just want to say i love your club penguin ocs so much!!! they have such fun designs <33 i was wondering if you have any lore for them??? or if they interact with the other club penguin characters :3

ohoho you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to ramble about my ocs .. ok i only really have stuff for two of them but yknow ..

(warning for probably horrible writing, this is the first time I’m really putting this stuff into words, and I’m not all that great at writing characters in the first place, so bear with me)

i’ll start off with skye since they’re the one i have the most info on lol

skye is one of my oldest ocs! i created them all the way back in 2012, they were originally an epf agent based on one of the penguins used in some of the promotional material for operation blackout. i’ve written out the epf stuff out of their character since then, though they’ve retained most of their basic traits.

skye is one of the island’s local freelance artists, as well as a member of the stage society and the party committee. they often help with designing and creating sets, props, and decorations for events throughout the island! skye is known for their creativity among their peers, however they’re horrendously shy and dislike being in the spotlight, preferring to work “behind the scenes.”

as for character relationships .. I’d imagine they’d be pretty good friends with dot! canonically, dot has been shown to have a love for theatre, and I like to think she’s had a hand (or flipper?) in designing costumes for various stage plays, so I’d imagine she and skye would bond over that kind of stuff.

skye also eventually becomes good friends with rookie! he first approached them for help with planning the 2014 fair (thanks to a recommendation from dot lol), and skye, somewhat reluctantly, agreed to help out with the design and construction of the amazement park. I’d imagine rookie plays a key role in skye’s character development, helping them come out of their shell somewhat (they have a kinda ‘extrovert adopts an introvert’ thing going on). here’s some bonus funny doodles of them:

some misc facts about skye I’ve had in my head:

- they don’t own any puffles or pets, but they do act as somewhat of a caretaker for the keeper of the stage, making the effort to check up on and put food out for it everyday.

- a bit too dedicated to their craft for their own good, they’ve pulled one too many all-nighters just to work on one of their various projects.

- their favorite artistic medium is painting, though they love to experiment and have dabbled into pretty much every medium at some point (with varying degrees of success).

then there’s my kind-of-penguinsona, agent pinky! or sometimes just ‘pink.’ kind of a weird name I know, i derived it from my og username on club penguin, pinkyrose059, since that’s what I based pinky off of.

pinky is a laid-back, but somewhat jaded, tactical agent for the epf. they have kind of a ‘been there, done that’ attitude, leading them to not really take their agent role all that seriously (i can imagine them quarreling with their boss, jpg, sometimes cause of this) …. that’s all I kinda got for them rn, i haven’t really had much in mind for them compared to skye lol.

[cainluvr69]

"Creeping Shadows" Cain SR Card Story - Boiling Sensibilities

Cain: Alright, so let's do this here… And put these herbs in next…

Snow: My, I thought I smelled something nice, and who should I find when I follow the scent but you. What's in that big pot you have? Are you cooking something, perchance?

Cain: Oh, Lord Snow. I'm trying to make that "curry" thing Master Sage was talking about, since it's apparently a camping mainstay.

Snow: …Courier?

Cain: No, curry. It's a kind of soup that's made by just throwing in all sorts of ingredients and boiling them together.

Snow: Ohoho, so a type of cooking you excel at, I see. I recall you saying you were just going to "boil up" breakfast for White and I once.

Cain: Ahaha, did I? Well I mean, pretty much anything in the world can be eaten if you boil or fry it.

Snow: Is that true…? Are you sure…?

Cain: So anyways, Akira and the previous Sage said that curry is spicy, with a brown roux, and that it smells really good.

Snow: I see, I see! So we've got a rather fiery soup on our hands, then. So would those herbs you put in be the finishing touch on the fabled "curry" flavor?

Cain: Honestly? I have no idea.

Snow: What.

Cain: Neither of the Sages could remember exactly what kind or how many herbs or spices are supposed to go into it. So the first time I tried to make it, it didn't really turn out very well, but there's all sorts of herbs growing around here, yeah? I figure if I put in a bunch of the herbs here that are close enough to how they remember it, it'll turn out better this time.

Snow: So you're just shooting blindly until you hit the target????

Cain: I'm being pragmatic about it. And well, I've definitely got the spice, but the color and aroma aren't quite right, I think. Please, Lord Snow. Could you also add something that you think might be good?

✦✧☾✧✦

Snow: Goodness, me too? Why, that sounds… …Super duper fun! Absolutely! But you'll be taking responsibility for it, Cain dearest!

Cain: Of course I will. Alright, let's get back to the hunt now.

Snow: How do these herbs seem to you? If my memory hasn't failed me yet they should add a nice bit of spice.

Cain: Sounds great! Go for it, toss 'em in. Ooh! It's smelling great!

Snow: It's still not exactly brown, though. It's almost minestrone-like.

Cain: Hmm… Oh! How about we add some of those yellow flowers over there?

Snow: Sure, why not! In they go!

Snow & Cain: …! Is this…!!

✦✧☾✧✦

Snow & Cain: We did iiiit!! Clap clap clap!

Cain: The moment we added those flowers, we hit "spicy", "brown", and "smells good" all in one go! Now it's time for the taste test. C'mon, you try it too.

Snow: Huh?! Umm~mm, I think I'd like to hear your review first, Cain dear!

Cain: You sure? Well then, here I go. Munch… …It's good!

Snow: For real?! Then, I suppose I shall as well… Munch. …Goodness, this really is quite divine!

Cain: Right?

Snow: I know I'm the one who added the final ingredients, but goodness, I'm amazed we ended up here with such rando--ahem, pragmatism.

Cain: Ahaha. Maybe you've just got a talent for boiling things up! I only could've done this with your help, Lord Snow. Thank you very much. Yay!

Snow: Ya~ay! High five!

Cain: Alright, lemme go call the Sage. I really hope they like our curry!

Training Episode: Typical Toppings

Cain: Master Sage. Did you enjoy the curry we made the other day?

Akira: Right, I wanted to tell you!! It was absolutely perfectly currylike. Thank you so much for letting me taste something from home.

Cain: Nice! I'm happy you liked it. You were eating it with bread, right?

Akira: Yeah, I wanted to pair it with some carbs. But yeah, next time, I'd really want to have it with rice instead. Oh, and then putting pickled veggies and cheese on top too… Oh, but scallions or egg would be good too. Ohh, my imagination's starting to get away from me now that I'm thinking about home…

Cain: Pickles…? And eggs and cheese? It's a very versatile food, huh.

Akira: It really is. It all comes down to personal preference, of course, but putting on all your favorite toppings is definitely one way to enjoy curry.

Cain: Ooh! Yeah, it did taste like just about anything could go well with it. Then I want to add some fried meat. Not fried as-is like I usually make, but properly breaded 'n stuff. Fried oasis pig meat would probably go great with it.

Akira: …Oh, I know, like katsu curry! We had that in my world, too! In fact it's so common that you'd see it on a store's menu separate from regular curry. I bet you'd love it, Cain.

Cain: Nice, a special Sage suggestion. I'll definitely have to try it out, then. I was just putting stuff in randomly, so I don't know if I'll be able to recreate that exact recipe, but… Next time we're in the area, I'll do my best!

[bugs1nmybrain]

Fem!Shigaraki Headcanons

Turning my f/os into girls is so therapeutic I'm considering even making one-shots. Fml

Warnings: fem reader, fem Shiggy, NSFW (18+) sex stuff!, bras and period kind of talk, most of these don't even apply to a relationship, not proofread

Shiggy as a girlie? What a silly lil gal

Personality-wise she's not different than Tomura, but she may be more prone to sadness because of the differences in social upbringing that girls go through. Male Tomura likely thinks he's too ballsy to cry

Angry cries

But she's feisty and angry

A true femcel

She's still a great gamer and blows away people online when they find out she's a girl because misogyny is very smelly in the gaming community. "Is that a girl in the chat??" Tomura: "Cope with it fuckface."

I think girl Tomura would be very jumpy for some reason. Being startled would be so easy for her. I also mean in general though, like she has a lot of pent-up emotions in her that she has to throw it all out through hyperactivity

Paces around the apartment mumbling to herself when she's stressed

Has no idea how to go about relationships because she feels very insecure. She doesn't see herself as an attractive woman because of all her scars, dry skin, and moles, so she doesn't feel like she has a chance with anyone

She fucking hates fashion media, and seeing some perfect model on a billboard is enough to make her start itching in insecurity

It's actually very easy for her to like someone romantically, but she doubts that they'd ever like her, too, so she just starts being mean and nasty

She's very bitter

She has a voice that many would call a "witchy-bitch" voice, but it's cute esp when she's getting excited about something she's happy about

once you get her to laugh she's all yours

her laugh is so contagious and the whole apartment complex is hearing that

So when she started dating you she feels confused and undeserving. She's very flirty and likes spending time with you but she withdraws for a bit because she gets paranoid that you suddenly hate her and find her annoying

BPD coded

Throws shit when she's angry

And yes, she could just disintegrate stuff, but where's the fun in that?

girl musk

Shiggy would likely be about 5'4 as a girl, and I say this because in many countries the average female height is 5 inches below the average male height, and Shigarki is 5'9.

Before her AFO surgery she looked very weak and thin, but after she starts to fill out more

Her titties are about a smaller C cup before her upgrade and goes up a cup after her upgrade. They sag a bit and have itch scars. She likes wearing push-ups to make her feel more compact (I notice that Shiggy likes tight clothes).

Her ass fills out more after her surgery but not by much, she's kind of petite in that department. Her hip-to-waist ratio will fool you

Her periods are HORRIBLE and I mean DANGEROUS

She's in so much pain!!!

Her cramps are unlike anything because of all the stress she endures and it's just her natural body doing its thing. They're so bad that she pukes and can faint if it's too bad. She has to wear pads because she bleeds very heavily, so tampons aren't doing it

She gets very angry and depressed during this time, and if you poke fun at her and do the "ohoho is it that time of month??" you are dead

please tell her to go take a shower during this time she will stink

Likely has endometriosis and is also definitely anemic because of all the bloodloss and malnutrition

She resembles her female relatives quite a bit; her mom, Nana, her sister, etc.

Sometimes she'll wear eyeliner!! Not always but if she's trying to look nice for a PLF meeting or something she'll put a little wing on her eyes.

nsfw time

She's a switch but loves to bottom

Fucking RAIL her she loves it

The first time you fuck it's likely her first time, and she's soaked so bad that you have to get a towel to clean up all the mess

But actually, you might occasionally need lube if you're using a dildo for her because she gets dry when she's extremely stressed or for no exact reason sometimes

clingggyyyyy

she will hang off of you once you're done and get all sappy about it

"i looove you, you're the only person I'll ever love."

The next morning, "morning, loser"

will bite you

Moans loud

No matter what gender Shigaraki is, Shiggy loves boobies

Will definitely ask you to do very perverse things with her

will ask u to rub boobies together

she is a middle schooler at heart

mommy issues still apply but if she was with a guy daddy issues would come out too

will call you mommy or daddy just to make you mad

She has the widest smile with her crooked chompers but she's so pretty when she's genuinely smiling