#people really just forget he is a cannibal

[mysticalskunk]

you know that feeling when you really like a character but you cannot find any good content for them because people just ... don't really get them.

[krems-chair]

I'm always interested in analyses that portray a romanced Solas as a predatory hee hee trickster god manipulating a young and impressionable Lavellan into falling for him and if that's your world state go ahead and live your truth b/c it's frankly none of my business, but I sincerely think there are those who forget that for a lot of people, a romanced Lavellan is (with all due respect to my own Solasmancing Inquisitor Rielle Lavelllan) batshit crazy. Having her boyfriend turn out to be a wolf god is honestly the least of her problems but oh boy is she unafraid to become one to fix this mess.

This is a woman who woke up in a dungeon with a glowing hand, figured out she could fix the world, and thought "fuck it, it's not like I'll have anything else better to do if Corypheus sticks around. Also. Everyone here kind of looks like they want to kill me, so maybe I'll stick with the protective powers that be for a minute." And then all of five seconds later she gets her hand snatched by a sketchy elven apostate who knows exactly what to do with her shiny new powers and cannot stop himself from having a Mr. Darcy level hand-flex after he lets it go (in my heart and soul this happens just out of the camera's gaze) and goes "hmm maybe there's something to be said for this world saving thing."

This is a woman who brought an entire fucking avalanche down on herself and three of her closest friends (and I do mean closest as in physical proximity, she doesn't know these people who are looking at her like she's Thedas' Next Top Idol) because even if it killed her it was the proper middle finger to send to the wannabe god bringing his army tap-dancing down the mountain pass towards her on the one night she had scheduled off to celebrate finally taking a W.

This is a woman going Take 2 Electric Boogaloo on waking up with no idea where she is and learning she was successful in spite-dragging herself up a different fucking mountain in a blizzard. Except now everyone is fighting wait nope now they're Kumbaya-ing a song Andraste's Herald should really probably be familiar with whoops, oh thank God, time for a side convo with the same apostate who's been trying to turn her entire life into a history class only for her to dive in headfirst (much to his initial abject horror) and get that good good discourse she needs since she can't go around arguing with everyone else like she wants to. "The orb is ours." You know what? Of course it is. But if they need the world saved from an elven oopsie, who better to right things than an elf? Fuck it, we ball.

This is a woman who misses being close to nature and goes positively feral at Skyhold, yeeting herself over balconies and banisters and turning the ancient fortress into her personal parkour playground because she's got energy to work off and shit to do, and if the path of least resistance to hunt down everyone she needs to talk to is coincidentally the same path that will absolutely wreck her knees by the time she's sixty, that's just how it has to be.

This is a woman who finds herself back at Haven with a man she's found it possible to be unfetteringly unabashedly herself with and thinks, "hey, maybe there could be more than the flirations we've exchanged over heated discussions and philosophical deep-dives, maybe I can have just one smooch as a treat." And when she feels her slowly unfurling passion reciprocated only to be shut down? She resolves herself to fight for this fledgling love and all the fade tongue that comes with it. This is a woman who gets the tiniest glimpse of what a retirement plan might look like after this whole saving the mortal world thing and buys all the way in.

This is a woman who has Grey Wardens to save from themselves, an empire trying to self-cannibalize, and still finds the time to go rescue a spirit because she, as a fellow comrade caught up in this mess, knows damn well that no innocent deserves to suffer if she can help it while she's got this insane amount of power she never asked for. And if that happens to lead to the man she feels safe enough to nap on the library couches with confessing at last the feelings she knows he's been smothering beneath his all-too-collected surface? Yeah, she'll take that W.

This is a woman who gets absolutely blasted head-over-ass into the fade and goes "honestly things were going a little TOO well." This is a woman who sneaks a peak at the closest fears of the companions she's come to know and love and goes "not on my fucking watch." This is a woman who sees that the man she forces herself to learn the old language for, her vhenan, fears being alone more than anything in the entire knowing world and resolves herself to ensuring it never comes to pass.

This is a woman who gets the opportunity to shape the government of a straight up country and runs around collecting wooden fucking halla in a palace full of elven servants with no time to dwell on that particularly cruel irony because out here it's scheme or be schemed. This a woman who collapses against a balcony railing after putting out some of the sickest literal and metaphorical dance moves The Game has ever seen, resigned to bear her ever-increasing burdens alone, only to find her heart and his horrible horrible hat extending a hand, promising her that if he is not alone, then neither is she.

Like, do you feel me here?

And then he dares to think something as sudden and damning as the truth is enough to keep her away? The queen of tough conversations and tougher choices? No, no, dear readers who have made it this far into my descent into madness.

Inquisitor Lavellan is a master-class in encouraging the odds against her to fuck around and find out. She is a rift-mending false-god-bashing politcally savvy terror upon all of Thedas. Solas (and all of the living breathing world) is lucky she took time out of her busy schedule to notice the way his smile softens when talking about spirits or appreciate the fluidity of his form when they're obliterating venatori out in the field. This man cradled her cheeks in his shaking hands, looked into weary and wide eyes and called her beautiful, and had the audacity to steal her heart before trying to peace out and take it with him.

If she's got to track down a real god this time and frog march him into the fade to reclaim both her heart and the future she fought for because all he wants to do is launch himself like a meteor towards achieving his greatest fear, if she has to spend hours lecturing him on the sheer audacity of his ass while spirits float by and realize they're grateful they never had the chance to take on a body and subject themselves to a verbal lashing this brutal, if she has to do cartwheels around him while dropping all sorts of sweet nothings in the language she is now quite proficient in until he gets it through his luminous gleaming skull that when she said "var lath vir suledin" my girl meant it? Then that's what she's going to do.

"I wish it could, vhenan."

Oh it's going to, buddy. Buckle up to get wrecked, to get absolutely loved and cherished you fool, because Inquisitor Lavellan is not the Dread Wolf's prey, she's his hunter.

[maybeafrog-blog]

In Defense of Donnie's Gifts

I'm ngl I sorta think the shock collar was still just an odd writing decision but as far as PREMISE:

It CANNOT be a coincidence that this is the first time (and one of VERY few times) that Donnie's soft shell is referenced. Once, when Raph is hesitating to tell Donnie his gifts suck ass, and he uses the soft shell metaphor, and after that with Meat Sweats and his paprika, describing it as not just soft, but delicate. Weird, but he is a cannibal, so. (Side note, Meat Sweats never removed his battle shell? How does he know? Or did he take it off and replace it after the pound of butter? Is he using it to facilitate steaming and tenderness? Is it broken? I feel like it should have something in there that could break him out of the sausage links)

Then in that last little scene- "Forget it. You guys are great the way you are!" - we get the shot of Donnie from behind pre group hug, with his brothers facing the camera. (Idk if I'm making shit up, but I feel like this is a staple for Donnie episodes? It def happens in the Purple Game, maybe Smart Lair.) The framing draws attention to his battle shell. The battle shell even kinda matches the gifts, compared to the rest of their gear and even Donnie's tech, color coded and way more streamlined than stuff like the tech bo.

Donnie's soft shell is an innate, unchangeable part of him, a feature of his species, that he treats as a handicap. Probably MORE unchangeable than the character traits he sees as holding his brothers back, which they do sorta... not mature out of, but refine, rather, over the course of the show. Donnie's shell can't experience a character arc, but he sees it as holding him back. So he FIXES it.

The Mad Dogs don't really have a motivation for beating stuff up besides "Hero Time!!!" at this point. That's why it's so interesting how EARLY this happens, unlike with Mind Meld, he isn't trying to change his brothers to make them better at a task that he actually CARES about. Donnie in particular never gets a super intense moral compass besides stuff that threatens people he already cares about, and he doesn't have any grudges (no Purple Dragons) at this point in the series. Hero Goals are largely devices for him to hang out with his dum dum brothers. I'm not diagnosed or anything but my vibes are certainly... Spectrum-Adjacent, I definitely have trouble with literal thinking and reading people. One thing that happens sometimes is people will be using "task" as "reason to hang," and I will get a lot more fixated on completing said task than I really should, to the point of annoying people. I confuse "Successful Task Completion" with "Successful Social Interaction." It makes me come across as bossy and controlling without realizing it.

So, we got a Donnie who thinks Arbitrary Goals are essential to Hero Bonding, who has been treating his life like an mmorpg - armor upgrades, skill trees, grinding, sometimes fighting through random dungeons to hang out with his bros. He's probably even slightly better at Fighting Stuff than his brothers atp, he isn't dealing with a mystic learning curve and his special interest has been Weapons of Mild Destruction for years already. His brothers want to level up, take harder missions, he tries to get them there with his access to High Level Loot.

Of course, his brothers are all min-maxing, not trying to multiclass their purple ass out of squishy glass cannon town. So, it doesn't go well. Unfortunately, the lesson Donnie learns (besides brotherly affection) is that his brothers don't NEED fixing like he does. Mind Meld and Donnie vs. Witch Town sorta finish this arc out as best as the series can.

Where I would have liked to see this go:

A S2 Donnie's Gifts or Mind Meld style episode (Donnie tries to improve his brothers, to their dismay) where the motivator isn't goal completion, but protectiveness. We see a bit of the fear in Purple Game, a bit of the contingency planning with the escape pods in the movie. Maybe a more upfront "training montage" type scenario, a high tech robo dojo to develop their mad skills, or just a tense moment after a skin of their teeth Genius Built rescue.

The brothers confront Donnie eventually-- not just the passive conflict resolution of Donnie's Gifts. They get mad. Push Donnie to the point he's at in Turtle-Dega Nights. They get a rant about not wanting them to get hurt, of course, but also that he's already done so much to FIX himself, make sure he's not a LIABILITY, why can't they at least try to stay SAFE? The dangers are real now, and as far as Donnie knows he REALLY can't do anything about threats like the Shredder. His tech did nothing the first time. His brothers are the ones with the mystic mojo, and they don't even realize how SERIOUS things could get.

Anyway. Protective Donatello my Beloved. Let my boy go apeshit.

//I REALLY Like the 2003 episode where Leo is hurt and Donnie is fucking PISSED at Usagi. All Donnies should be allowed to enter a feral protective rage, as a treat.

//If anyone knows of any Purple Game Aftermath fics lmk. Like, going home, getting donnie out of the evil gamer chair, guilt, whatever. or just good Purple Dragons being Assholes content.

[angelbarelywritesslashers]

♡ tommy gets jealous | oneshot

♡ fandom; Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003/2006)

♡ characters; Thomas Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡cw; mentions of kidnapping and violence, don’t date people who want to slash you irl not a good foundation for a relationship

♡notes; I put on my big boy panties and wrote something other than a bulleted list!!

I just love a good “i trust you but i sure as fuck don’t trust anybody else” type jealously trope. Also some Tommy doing ASL!! We love a (selectively?) mute king.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

You were an oblivious person. Most of the time, anyways. You’d been totally shocked when Luda Mae didn’t let you leave the night you arrived at the Hewitt house, totally shocked when Charlie told you Thomas was obsessed with you, and more surprised still that Charlie had been right.

You weren’t stupid— you put two and two together that these folks were cannibals as soon as you saw the basement. You nearly talked Monty into letting you go, and you slipped your restraints a couple times before you were settled in. You’d done well in school and still could read a book in one sitting.

Maybe… socially inept was a better word, harsh as it sounded. It was only people that you had a such a hard time with. You trusted them, but you could almost never wrap your head around what they were thinking.

Like the customers that stayed too long . It happened a lot. Bikers and tourists and all sorts of folks would stop in when you were working in the convenience store, and usually more than once a day a man would stay leaned on the counter, chatting away until his buddies were about to leave him. Sometimes they’d be alone, and Luda would give you a break early and they’d go off looking all huffy.

It very rarely occurred to you that the men were trying to flirt. You didn’t think of yourself as someone that happened to- and treated all customers the same. Why would they think you wanted to bang em when all you did was smile? Being nice was part of your job.

Luda Mae payed no mind to the men or your conversations. If there’d been any cause for concern, she’d be able to quash it very easily. But she found it endearing, especially your confusion and apathy when they did get balls enough to be blunt . In her mind you were so devoted to Thomas that other men were just nuisances.

That’s why no one had mentioned it to Thomas. He rarely came up to help now that you were there to help Luda Mae, but today there was extra stock, and her joints had been aching from the weather. You were on register, Luda Mae relaxed in a rocker on the porch, and Tommy stalked the aisles and put out trinkets and canned food and all the other junk you sold. You were trying not to go distract him and stood leaned over the counter, doodling on some scrap paper between customers.

“Well hello darlin,” A man drawled, hands on his belt buckle. He was trying too hard to be a real Texan, but he wasn’t from up North like you. “You got any cigarettes back there?”

“Sure do! Let’s see… got Camels, Lucky Strike- I really like these ones, the Salems, they’re menthol-“

“You look too sweet to smoke. I’ll take the Camels,”

“Well, only do it on special occasions,” you shrugged, not paying much attention as Thomas stalked towards the front “Anything else?”

“Well. That depends.”

“On?”

“If you’re free or not tonight.”

You blinked, then furrowed your brow “You tryna ask me out?”

“Well I- oho shit!” The man laughed uncomfortably as he noticed Thomas right behind him “You scared me there big guy-“

He huffed and slunk behind the counter as the man nervously tried to get back on topic “Anyways… ahem…so about that date-?”

You huffed and out a hand on your hip “Well, depends?”

He perked up a bit “On what?”

“If you can beat my boyfriend in a fight.” On cue Thomas wrapped his arms around you from behind, growling as he hooked his chin on your head.

The man quickly turned tail and mumbled something about being out of practice, forgetting the cigarettes completely. You could feel Tommy relax and turned to let him pick you up and set you on the counter. Even then you weren’t eye to eye with the giant of a man…but it was closer, and you liked feeling tiny anyway.

“…hi baby.” You cooed and loosely wrapped your arms around his neck. He huffed and nuzzled you, as he often did as a form of reassurance. You giggled and pecked his mask “Annoying, right?”

He nodded and scowled, keeping his grip tight on your hips

“…what’s wrong?”

He hesitated but pulled back to sign ‘Mine. All mine. Right?’

You giggled again “Of course! All yours- always.”

He smiled softly- the sort of expression only you could coax out of him ‘Always’

[a-hazbin-reader]

Gods I just have the funniest idea ever!

Can you do where Alastor will just do the most demonic, cannibalistic and brutal things ever (that even Lucifer was convinced that this mf CANNOT be redeem) but wifey was just sighing, heart eyes and goes 'isn't he the most adorable 🥰'

YES-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Murder, Cannibalism

Description: ☝️⬆️

A lot of people tend to forget that you're ALSO in hell for a reason, assuming you to be Alastor's loving wife and not thinking beyond that

They forget that you love all of your husband, even his twisted side that scares everyone else

Maybe they somehow missed the days you tenderly wiped blood of his face after a particularly large meal of demons who got in his way

"You really should be more mindful of the mess you're making, hiding this lovely face with all this blood."

"Apologies, darling~"

Or the way you would sigh happily whenever the radio static in his voice would intensify due to anger

"He's so cute when he's angry~"

They were probably too busy staring at his humongous demon form to notice how you practically swooned and got weak in the knees at the sight

"Oh honey~ In public~?"

Nobody except Husker, who has been with you two long enough to know just how fucked up you are

Somehow, nobody at the hotel seems to notice any of these signs until Husk points it out to them

"How did that creepy fucker even pull Y/N anyways? There's no way that bitch is actually into his mess!"

Charlie is trying to shut Angel up before either you or your husband hear him, Vaggie nodding in agreement with Angel

Until Husk slams back a shot and points you, innocently reading and sitting in Alastor's lap

"What the fuck? Have any of you actually been using your eyes!? She fucking loves the shit he pulls!"

Everyone's whips their heads around to look at you in surprise, you only laugh and play with the ends of your husband's hair

Alastor's head does a full turn as he gives them a smug grin as he accepts a small kiss on the cheek from you

"What can I say? I'm just irresistible~"

They all start to pay closs attention to your relationship with Alastor after that, especially when he being particularly monstrous

And of course, Husk was fucking right

Alastor is squeezing some guy to death with a tentacle? You're fanning yourself from the balcony with your hand

"Isn't he just the most handsome man you've ever seen? Is it hot out here? I feel like it's hot out here..!"

"...sure, doll..."

You miss the way Angel scoots away from you and hides behind Vaggie

He's dangling another poor soul over his mouth and cackling at that sound of their terror? Suddenly, everyone sees the kiss you blow his way and the wink he gives you

"Remember to chew, darling~! I don't want you to get a stomachache from that lowlife!"

"Darling, you're embarrassing me..!"

Charlie is torn between being horrified and thinking that you two are the cutest couple ever

Alastor decapitates the next one and brings you the head as a gift? You're blushing and holding it like he just gave you a precious bouquet of flowers

"Oh, Alastor, aren't you just the most man romantic in hell~"

"I thought you might enjoy it~"

He looks so pleased with himself, leaning in to accept a gracious kiss on the cheek from his beloved wife

Vaggie is just so visibly shocked, looking at Husk in disbelief, the bartender simply rolling his eyes

"I told you, she's just as fucked up in the head as he is."

They all watch in shock as Alastor picks you up and carries you inside, the sound of your delighted giggling haunting them

Enjoy~

[gamergirlwrites]

Resident Evil Men: First Kiss

First kiss blurbs/hcs with Albert, Carlos, Chris, Ethan, and Leon. Willing to do a second part with other characters if anyone is interested.

Albert Wesker

It's late, way past the time when anyone should be in the office. You're stuck manning the front desk at the station. The few officers on duty are either out on their patrol or asleep in the bunks. There usually aren't more than a handful of people on duty, but the attacks are making everyone a bit more nervous. You needed the overtime hours, so your name was first on the volunteer sheet.

"Do you know how easy it would be for one of those cannibals to sneak up on you?" Albert joked as he placed his hands over your eyes. You jumped a bit in your seat, but he held you firmly in place. The STARS Alpha captain had been teasing you pretty badly these past few nights, but you were starting to like it.

"Good thing you're here to protect me, isn't it? You wouldn't let anything happen to sweet, little old me, would you?" You batted your eyelashes at him, noticing the way he shifted slightly. Albert was leaning over your chair still, making it so easy for you to just reach up for him. He made it even easier when he leaned down to meet your touch, and even further towards your lips. The kiss was fairly quick, both of you well aware that the patrol would be back any minute.

"I'll keep you safe from those cannibals. It'd be criminal not to."

Carlos Oliveira

"Watch out!" You acted before you really knew what was happening, jumping to tackle Carlos to the ground as the rocket whizzed over your bodies. Both of you watched as it hit the building behind you, and Carlos cradled your head to his protectively as bits were blown all around.

"Are you okay?" Carlos asked as he moved his arms away from you. Your heart was racing in your chest as your brain tried to process everything that had happened. That had nearly been Carlos blown to bits, and then he had protected you from the debris. It was a miracle that either of you were still breathing, yet alone both of you.

"I-I think so," you stammered out. Carlos cradled your face in his hands as he looked for any obvious signs of a concussion. Your eyes followed his, watching as he lingered on your lips for a few seconds longer than anywhere else. "That, um, that was something."

"I don't know what I'd do without you, and I don't just mean as a team member," Carlos said. You rested your head against his chest, unsure of what to do. His arms felt safe, and he seemed to want you there. The two of you stayed for a few moments longer, allowing yourself to naturally gravitate towards a more intimate hold. You weren't sure who kissed who, but you'll never forget the feeling of Carlos's lips pressed against yours or the way his hands gripped your hips.

Chris Redfield

"(Y/n)," Chris sighed. Things had been going well between the two of you, but then he blew you off. Rushing off with a kiss on the forehead and a half-assed apology was ruining things. "Look at me, please."

"What do you want? Isn't there a crisis that only Chris Redfield can solve?" There was nothing more than venom in your words, and Chris knew that was somewhat deserved.

"I like you a lot, and I'm sorry for not being as available as I should be, but I've got some time off and I'd like to spend it with you. You're a good woman, and I'll do anything to prove how badly I want you."

"One night, give me one night of your undivided attention, and we'll see how things go after that," you told him. Chris looked visibly relieved by your terms, and before he could really think about it, he was moving in to kiss you. Surprisingly to him, you kissed back, glad to finally get a real kiss out of him.

Ethan Winters

Ethan held onto your hand as the two of you walked through the park. Your first date had been going well. Dinner and a movie was always a good choice, even if the two of you didn't want the night to end. Ethan couldn't wait for a second date and the ones after it. He hadn't felt like this in a long time, and it was nice to be with someone who didn't know what he had been through.

"(Y/n), can I kiss you?" Ethan asked. He had stopped pretty abruptly a few feet away from the parking lot where your cars were. You looked around, slightly nervous about the idea of someone else watching your first kiss with a new guy.

"I'd like that," you said as Ethan's hands cupped your jaw. He leans in slowly and kisses you so gently that you think he's convinced you'll break or fade away. It's nice to be treated with such care, and you know that Ethan's going to love you like no other man has.

Leon Kennedy

Leon has no idea what he's doing here. Something about an obligation to work friends. There's booze which is sort of all he cares about, and the pretty woman grinding against him isn't too bad. He couldn't remember the last time he had let loose in this way. There was no harm in spending the night with a stranger, so Leon takes it upon himself to turn you around.

You continued dancing on him, and Leon was more than happy to let him. Things don't seem to slow down at all even as the music did. The two of you got pretty caught up in yourselves and the moment. Your lips were trailing along his neck, dangerously close to leaving a mark until he finally leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss.

"I'm Leon!" he shouted over the music.

"(Y/n)!"

[kinopio-writes]

Hello dearie!!

How are you? I hope you're doing well!

I saw that your asks were open,and your content is really cool and silly,So I decided to leave you a nice ask to enjoy!

Could I have a headcanon platonic! Alastor,Vox and Husk finding a random child next to their dead mother, except that they don't really understand that she's dead and think she's sleeping,so they pity the child and take them in?

The child is really polite and nice,pretty calm,too. Sure,they do child stuff,like running around,being excited,etc,but they still are more calm than others.

They always talk about their mother,how she's the only one left,and how they love her.

Would the characters say the truth? Would they lie?

I just love hurt/comfort and platonic relationships so :3

Anyways,I hope that's not too much,and that you enjoy writing this!

Have a really nice day,don't forget to drink and take breaks!

Stay proud!

-Nina <33

A/N: Thank you for the reminders, heh. Btw, I’m going to have to change the reasons as to why they took you in because I just don’t see characters like Alastor and Vox taking you in because of pity. Sorry about that. The rest is untouched. You’ll still get a bit of that hurt/comfort (mostly from Husk, lol. Both Alastor and Vox are non-existent, but Alastor is somehow better than Vox).

Warnings: Mentions of death

———

Alastor, Husk, and Vox adopting a deceased mom’s child

Alastor

• Alastor paid no mind to the dead corpse

• it didn’t really look that appetizing anyway

• “How unfortunate.” You heard a weird voice from behind you as a hand was placed on your shoulder. “A child mourning in the demise of its mother. Tragic, really. You have my condolences.”

• “What are you talking about, mister?” You stared up at the mysterious man, watching his eyes flick from your left to right eye while his grin only grew as the seconds went by

• “I think you’ve just found yourself the perfect dwelling,” he abruptly said, letting go of your shoulder to fix his bowtie as he sprung back to life. “Why don’t you come with me?”

• “But what about my mother?”

• “She is in good hands, I can assure you.” He offered his hand to you. “Come along, now. Children shouldn’t dwell long in places like these.”

• and so he took you in to be a patron at his hotel

• I mean, what’s more easier to redeem than a child? (assuming you’re a sinner. I don’t know if it’s canon anymore that only hellborns can reproduce. Look at Cannibal Town’s people)

• he intended to leave you in the rest of the residents’ care while they could only guess what his actual motivation was for taking you in

• but it seemed you ended up favoring him more than the rest

• you’d follow him around like a duckling—a lost puppy—you’re attached to him like a leech

• and you’re so well-behaved, too

• up until he leaves your sight

• he actually leaves the hotel a lot more often now because of that

• he finds you wrecking chaos in the hotel entertaining as hell

• and the fact that the others beg him to come back to calm you down

• I don’t think you would ever know what happened to your mother

• even when you talk about her a lot

• those rambles never really prompt him to say anything

• well, it’s not as if he knew what happened to her

• but, hey, at least he listens!

• maybe it’s because he feels a little nostalgic hearing the way you talk about her…

———

Husk

• Husk was fucking spooked when he found you lying beside your dead mother

• not because of the corpse, but because of the way you were staring at him

• with eyes dull and wide open, just like your mother

• while Husk wouldn’t have given two shits if it was a grown-ass adult, you were a child

• so he took you in

• “But what about my mother?”

• “Shi—I, uh—your momma will tag along soon. Now c’mon. She wouldn’t want you out here alone.”

• since Husk is constantly around the hotel, there were never really instances where you wreaked havoc

• you just silently watch him tend the bar and sometimes talk about your mother

• your talks about how much you love her make him feel pretty guilty for some reason

• but he’d probably tell you when you’re older enough

• only if you were asking him about her though

• he wouldn’t want to have to sit you down and tell you something that sensitive of a topic when you didn’t even ask

• “Why don’t I have a mother?” you would suddenly ask when you turned 18

• today was your birthday. Charlie insisted on having a little party for you just like every year. But you didn’t want one; you wanted to be with Husk for the day

• the man in question sighed

• he knew you were building up the courage to ask all day

• “I’m gonna give it to you straight, kid, I don’t know what exactly happened to her. All I know is that she’s in a better place.”

• “Oh…”

• “Do you…wanna talk about it?” He continued, voice a little unsure, “Not as a bartender…but as a dad.”

• you smiled, grateful. “I think I’ve already said plenty when I was younger. But thanks, Dad.”

• he smiled back

• you two would then sit in silence together, basking in each other’s presence

———

Vox

• so, uh, I’m going to have to completely skip the taking you in part with Vox because I genuinely cannot see him adopting a random child (unless he could gain something, but, like, you’re just a kid)

• so you’ll just get the aftermath of it (hope that’s okay)

• based on the way he handled Val’s tantrum, I think it’s safe to assume that he’s somewhat good with children

• but he’s a pretty busy guy

• he doesn’t have the time to take care of a random child, so he’d make sure to keep an eye on you on his cameras

• but despite that, your existence in the tower warrants his

• as you’re too chaotic whenever he isn’t around

• but only around the other expendable employees

• you’re relatively well-behaved when Velvette and Valentino are with you

• but he doesn’t exactly trust them to take care of you

• they aren’t exactly good with children

• so he tried doing video calls

• you will definitely grow up as an iPad kid

• he’d hear you talk about your mom during those calls

• he’d let you go on and on, but it’s not guaranteed that he’ll listen

• I don’t think he would ever tell you what happened to her (he doesn’t know, anyway)

• he won’t lie, he’d just work around your question

• skillfully

• like, extremely so

• even if you ask him directly, he still manages to dodge the question somehow

• I don’t know what else to say, he’s gonna be a pretty distant father—

[kimhargreeves]

A Flashy Act part 2-Buggy x Reader (smut)

Summary: Buggy has decided to question you behind curtains in his private room, which leads you both to share an intimate moment together.

(A/N: The people have spoken and I delivered!! Enjoy this spicy Buggy smut for all you weird clown fuckers like myself. Special thanks to everyone who liked my post! I didn't expect it to become popular in just a day. Anyone enjoy cause this is nasty..or spicy however you want to look at it. A part 3 may be done once I finish the show since I'm on ep 3.)

(Tag list: @pookiesnatcher @alejandro0-0 @ghostlycrystobalove @lenu-i

"Luffy!"

"Don't worry, I got this!" Luffy shouted when Buggy had grabbed me and began to pull me away from the stage, where Luffy was now held. This fucking clown, I swear if he harms that boy. I frowned when the clown began to now pulling me away.

"Quit giving me such a hard time!"

"Hey! What do you think you're doing pulling me into this room-" I was immediately quiet when Buggy grabbed my shoulders dipped me a bit and he unexpectedly began to kiss me.

I started back at him surprised as he lifted me back up on my feet. The first thing I did was slap his across the face and I hid my face.

"I-I'm so sorry! What..why did you-"

Buggy began to chuckle to himself as he held onto the spot I had hit him. His lipstick was smeared around his lips, and it was a bit hard ti tell if I let a mark on his face.

"You're still annoying and hard to please. You haven't changed quite much, (Y/N). Now..Where is my map?!"

I furrowed my eyebrows and leaned closer to look at him. All of the sudden Buggy took a step back and froze.

"Buggy…sorry I don't know what you mean-"

"Ugh I knew it! That damn Shanks probably told you to forget about me. He always does things like this."

I crossed my arms over my chest and tilted my head. "Shanks you know him?! Wait…" I thought hard and suddenly remembered a certain memory of myself, Shanks and Buggy.

"Now I remember! You took a few punches once when-"

"When a guy threatened to toss you out into the sea." Buggy ended my sentence and sighed.

I started up at the clown and wondered how I had forgotten about him. "We used to hang out didn't we? The three of us."

"Yeah until I was left alone! Shanks returned one day without you, saying how he wanted you to have s nice and decent life, not a pirates one which I thought was bullshit."

"Language." I warn and smirked afterwards.

Buggy sighed and now looked at me up and down. "You really grew up, (Y/N)."

"Flashily I suppose?" I said giving a twirl and giving a wink. "But seriously, did you kidnap us just so you can have the map?"

"That map belongs to me! Not to some prepubescent boy who doesn't know what it's like to be a pirate. Why are you with him anyways?" He asked leaning his back onto the wall and crossing his arms.

"I made a promise to my brother, Shanks. That I would look after him."

"So you're a babysitter then? That's great." Buggy rolled his eyes as he said that and started to take his gloves off. "Really suits your character." He laughed.

I squinted my eyes at him and looked at him from head to know. "Never thought you would go with the whole creepy clown look. You look like you would eat children." I joke.

"I eat others things… I let the whole raw meat thing to my buddy you met back on stage."

Great. So not only are they all supposed to be freaks, but he has a cannibal among them. What else has he been up to for these last couple of years?

"Gross. How many times have you taken advantage of some poor girl..or boy."

"Don't be ridiculous. I would never take advantage of someone if they were against it. And those who accept?"

"Well, let's say we have a pretty good time." He grinned pulling himself back up straight and seeing me fake throwing up.

"Ew.. I did not need that image in my head."

"Don't tell me you're still a virgin! Someone like you? Traveling the sea?!"

I looked around at where he had taken me. Making sure to look well even if it was kinda dark, only a few candles here and there with a vanity mirror and a few makeup scattered around, a small bed with the same lights messily clinging above the room.

"Where's Luffy?"

"Now you're avoiding the question!"

"Just tell me where he is with his ginger girl and broccoli guy!" I said trying me my best to not seem nervous, but really wanting to know if they were safe.

"I'll gladly tell you, once you tell where my map is!" He shouted and seemed to quickly compose himself and curse under his breath.

Buggy dramatically sighed and sat down on the edge of his bed. "Rubber boy is fine, he's entertaining my guests. Other two are with Cabaji."

My eyes looked back at the entrance and worried about the people being held hostage, I even spotted a poor dog with an older man, probably the owner saving the last thing he has, "What about the people?"

"What people?"

"The towns people, you idiot. You have to let them go." I said hoping he'd listen.

Buggy jumped up and began to laugh. "Sure! I'll do it right now, wanna help me?"

I frowned looking at him and was thinking if there's some way I can somehow release some of them. I really need Luffy's help…I decided to be straight and harsh with him.

"No matter how many people you hold captive. You'll never make people love you."

I felt a bit intimidated by his stare when Buggy took steps closer to me and cornered me against the vanity mirror. I looked to the side and felt his stare on me.

"Don't think you'll get a pass out of this, sweetheart. You're doing this so I can let your little friends go." Buggy lowly spoke as he took his ungloved hands and wrapped one around my neck.

"You seriously think that I would take advantage of you?" I question looking back up at him and saw a cold stare on his face.

"I think you're the one wanting to take advantage of me. You want to know where the map is. Well, I won't tell you, because I don't know. Thanks to your bombs I collapsed before I got the chance to see where or who got it."

"And why should I trust you? We don't know each other well." He sang being sarcastic as ever.

"You like playing games don't you? Maybe I can show you that I am telling the truth." I said and smiled.

Buggy frowned and gave me a harsh stare. I reached my hand down to his pants beginning to unbutton the first few buttons. His breathing hitched and I could feel him freeze when I touched him.

"It's been years since I saw you. We were kids..I'm sorry I forgot about you. Shanks only wanted what was best for me-"

Buggy instantly grabbed my wrists making me stop and look back at him when with his other hand he grabbed my face.

"Shanks being selfish as ever. Did he ever wonder what was best for me? He's taken everything from me, and now I have you back." He grinned and now grabbed the back of my head.

He placed his hand under my chin and I could see his blue pupils darken. I closed my eyes when Buggy leaned down to kiss me again. I felt him move my hair aside and leaving quick kisses down my neck and collarbone.

I gripped onto his shirt tight and began to kiss his lips again, ignoring how I would end up stained in his makeup. Quickly it began to deepen with me slipping out a moan when I felt his hands on my stomach and felt his pants getting tighter.

I moaned into the kiss when I felt him begin to get rid of my upper half clothes and began to palm my chest. Buggy's kisses began to lower until he reached down my breasts while his other hand played with my other one. While he was busy I started to reach my hand down to his pants beginning to unbutton the first few buttons. His breathing hitched and I could feel him freeze when I touched him.

"It's been years since I saw you. We were kids..I'm sorry I forgot about you. Shanks only wanted what was best for me-"

Buggy instantly grabbed my wrists making me stop and look back at him when with his other hand he grabbed my face.

"Shanks was being selfish as ever. Did he ever wonder what was best for me? He's taken everything from me, and now I have you back." He grinned and now grabbed the back of my head.

He smiled as he placed his hand under my chin and I could see his blue pupils darken. I shivered when I felt his hands beginning to move lower into my pants, until his fingers started to tease my nub.

My breathing hitched and a moaned almost escaped from my mouth, quickly I covered my mouth which made it seem like it was irritating Buggy. With my mouth still covered I saw him beginning to lower himself down on his knees. Quickly he got rid of my pants quick and slowly pulled down my underwear.

I've never been this exposed to someone. I began to cover myself but Buggy held my hands back and he began to leave a few bits down along my thighs until I saw him begin to part my legs. I leaned my back against the vanity mirror making all the things that were on it fall to the ground.

"You are so beautiful, (Y/N)." I heard Buggy say when he saw me naked before him.

Buggy began to lick his smudged lips and I gasped when he grabbed my thigh and placed it on his shoulder. I threw my head back when I saw stick his tongue out and gave a slow and long lick to my entrance, he followed it with another lick until Buggy was swirling his tongue. I loud moan escaped from mouth when I couldn't hold it it anymore.

His nose would occasionally brush against my clit, causing my body to twitch and strain against him. Buggy's other hand continued to thrust his fingers inside me while he pressed his thumb against my nub. "Buggy..” I moaned lowly. My hand continuing to grab his hair tugging at it slightly, causing him to growl right into my cunt again. "I'm gonna-" I squeezed my eyes shut when he thrusted his fingers faster for me to come.

I began to buck my hips forward and continued to tug onto his blue hair which has been tied up. I squeezed my eyes tights and cried out in pleasure when I felt something build inside of me, and when I finally came, I felt my legs about to give out.

Buggy quickly wiped his messy face and quickly stood up and held me close to him. Holding me so I wouldn't fall.

"Not so fast, sweetheart. It's my turn." I was still coming back to reality when Buggy pushed me down on my knees and I was met with his long and big- "There's no way its gonna fit." I thought looking at him.

"Why don't you use your pretty mouth, (Y/N)?" Buggy hummed slipping his thumb into my mouth before pulling it away. I looked down at him and my entire face got red seeing him completely undressed now. What would people say if they saw me about to fuck a clown.

Suddenly I began to feel nervous as I watched him begin to stroke himself a bit until he began to guide his member closer to my mouth, his other hand running through my hair lovingly.

I did what I suppose I am to do, I opened my mouth sticking my tongue out. Buggy wasted no time and he began to gently fuck my mouth. I hummed when I tasted him and heard him groan above me as I took in more of him and took him out with a pop.

I reached my hands out to pump the rest that couldn't fit in when I took him back again and began to gag when he began to fuck my mouth faster. Buggy gripped my head tight and suddenly pulled be back leaving a string of saliva connected to him. I shrieked when he suddenly began to carry me onto the bed.behind him.

Buggy quickly getting rid of his remaining clothes and grabbed my ankles to part my legs when he got on top of me, his hands gripped my hips as he guided his dick between my folds. I shivered when I felt him toying with me and kept on teasing me before he grabbed himself again and began to slide in.

Both of us moaned when he slid deep inside of me. Buggy cursed a few words and he stayed still for a minute, before he began to thrust into me at a rough pace. He slid deep in me with ease as my juices coated his cock. I moaned out and looked to the side feeling shy again, my breasts bouncing with every hard thrust he did as I felt his fingers rubbing my clit harshly.

Again I felt that familiar sensation returning I clenched around his cock as I interlaced my fingers with Buggy when I felt that snap again and my vision got blurry for a second. I began to feel overstimulation when his hands buried into my hair again until one of his hands reached down my neck. His pace became even rougher and faster, making me come closer to my climax again

"B-Buggy!"

I began to cry when he learned down to whisper dirty things into my ear, his playful self no longer present in the room. Tears streamed down my cheeks as he continued to fuck me. Buggy reached down to rub my clit harshly, making me come again and stain the sheets beneath us. And just when I thought we were done, Buggy flipped me so my stomach would be facing the bed and my back facing him.

Another moan escaped from me when I felt a harsh smack against my ass and felt his hands grab my ass and stretching me to take him in better. At this angle I could feel him closer.

I shut to eyes shut and continued to moan and cry every time he would thrust into me. I bit my lips tight as I felt his harsh thrust inside of me. I reached down myself and stated to circle my finger over my clit, the friction along with this man's rough thrusts making my mind go blank as I rested the side of my face onto the bed.

"Buggy..I-I'm.." I cried out when I felt Buggy holding onto my hips tighter pulling me back against him.

I heard Buggy softly laughing as he watched the faces and moans I made. One last moan and cry came out of me when I came hard. I still felt extremely sensitive when I felt Buggy holding onto me tight until we both gasped, I grasped onto the sheets when I felt forward a bit and felt him getting closer

Buggy gripped onto me tight and moaned close to my ear when he came inside of me. I fell forward and began to shake at what happened. Slowly, Buggy pulled himself out.

I got myself comfortable laying on my side and felt something still slowly dripping out of me. I was too tired to speak or to even look back at the blue haired clown.

Last thing I felt was Buggy rubbing my hips and planting a kiss a quick kiss on my head before I watched him leave the bed. Too tired to question anything, I decided to shut my eyes for a quick nap and felt something warm being placed on top of me.

"(Y/N)! You're safe..where the heck where you?!" Luffy questioned seeing my tired face. "Where you kept locked up? Buggy didn't hurt you did he?!" Luffy grabbed my shoulders and began to shake me.

"Luffy! Now's not the time!" I said not wanting anyone to touch me at how sore I felt. I looked at the young boy and smiled, "…I-I'm fine. None of you got hurt?" I asked genuinely concerned for them.

Though I have no idea what had happened since I had blacked out. I only remember falling asleep and well, waking up alone and pulling away from some curtains and making my way outside of the huge tent. That bastard clown. How dare he leave me.

Everyone of the towns people were set free and thanking Luffy for his help. Everyone genuinely seemed happy and very grateful. That way they know that not every pirates are bad.

"Nothing we couldn't handle." Zoro calmly replied walking past me.

"Kicking the clowns ass was fun. You should've seen it." Nami told me after.

They defeated him then? I sigh and smiled looking at Luffy and pulled his straw hat down and chuckled. There's no way he can't know what happened between that clown and I. That fucking clown will pay if I were to see him again.

I looked over at my friend and smiled at him. "You did great Luffy."

I followed Luffy to the ship and saw him waving at everyone where the ship began to sail. We all got busy and I sat down rethinking what the hell I did back there.

Luffy came over and smiled sitting next to me. "Are you sure you're fine? I swear I heard you crying."

My blood ran cold and I grew pale. I noticed Luffy's worried look and he quickly placed his hand over my forehead.

"Are you sick? Don't tell me you're getting sea sick all of the sudden."

"…Nope. I'm sorry I shouldn't worry you. Nothing happened." I lie straight at his innocent face.

The boy smiled and nodded his head. "If you say so! Let me know if you feel any better."

I nodded my head and saw Luffy run over to the front of the boat. I turned around and spotted Nami and Zoro shaking their heads at me.

[shikiii-skadi]

Hey can do yandere levi ackerman and hang Zoe and Erwin please

INCLUDES: levi ackermann, erwin smith, hanji zoe WARNINGS: Yandere content, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, abuse, possessiveness, obsessiveness, stalking, clinginess, delusion, paranoia, overprotectiveness, mentions of kidnapping, death, manipulation, gas-lighting, murder, suicide, cannibalism, mutilation NAVIGATION: Attack on Titan Masterlist | part 1 (eren, mikasa, christa, armin)

Levi Ackermann:

Typ of Yandere:

Overprotective: More than anything, he wants you to survive. More than anyone, he knows how brutal the world is out there. Man-eating titans or people who are as disgusting as animals, he has seen it all. And Levi also knows how weak you are in comparison. You could never get through this, not without him protecting you. That is why he has made it his mission to prevent you from being on the list of the dead as well. And he will do it as long as he is able to.

Rude: The biggest tsundere-yandere out there. He still calls you an idiot and is not above criticizing you harshly for doing something stupid in his eyes. Honestly, sometimes you really wonder if it's true when he says he loves you. But given the fact that he is a yandere, that is a question you ask yourself only briefly lol.

Dependence: Honestly, this man is just miserable. he lost everything so many times that he stopped counting. Is it an excuse for the way he treats you? No. But you can understand why. He clings to the little bit of luck he still has in his life. You are like the air he needs to breathe. Without you, he'd be like a fish trapped on dry land.

How and when started the obsession:

It takes a long time for Levi to let you get close to him, but once that hurdle is crossed, it doesn't take long for him to snap given the world you both live in.

Do they know that their feelings are unhealthy/not normal?

To a certain degree, yes. But he would consider it natural that he wants to protect you with every fiber of his being.

How far are they willing to go?

Murder: Levi is definitely capable of killing someone without much difficulty. And when it comes to your safety and well-being, he wouldn't hesitate for a second. However, Levi would not kill any potential rivals.

Hurting you: No, Levi would never hurt you physically. However, his blunt words are another story.

Blackmail: If something were to arise, then yes, but Levi wouldn't go out of his way to dig things up. But he would definitely use his position to make sure you are in his squad or don't participate in certain missions.

Kidnapping: It wouldn't be his first choice to kidnap you, because generally, Levi wants you to be happy and do the things you like (as long as you don't put yourself in danger that is). But if you two reach a point where Levi feels that you simply can't learn from your mistakes and continue to act recklessly over and over again, then he will see no other option than to physically restrain you. So that you are no longer a danger to yourself.

Final stage: Honestly the person who is responsible for your death, should just kill themselves before Levi has the chance to get them himself. He will not let them get away. It could take years and Levi would still be as adamant to make the person, who killed you suffer. He would never forget and in the end, he would get to them, no matter where they might try to flee to. The world is too small to hide from Levi Ackermann.

What is it overall like to have them as a Yandere?

As mentioned earlier, Levi is just miserable. He is so out of touch with his feelings that he would probably never confess his feelings to you on his own and you would have to make the first move. Which is why a scenario of rejection is unlikely. If you were to correctly interpret his behavior and tell him that you don't love him, it would hurt him a lot inside, but he wouldn't do anything to you. He wouldn't kidnap you or pressure you into a relationship. Levi doesn't have a high opinion of himself in that regard and probably doesn't think he's worthy of your companionship anyway. He would still stay by your side and protect you, but he doesn't expect anything in return. Knowing that you're safe is good enough for him.

Levi is probably one of the better Yanderes to have. Apart from his overprotectiveness he is pretty reasonable and will actually listen to you if you have complaints.

Erwin Smith:

Typ of Yandere:

Manipulative: This man has a way with words. He could bring someone to jump willingly off a cliff if he wanted to. The key word here is "if he wanted to". I have a hard time imagining that he would ever manipulate you. He is too controlled and aware of himself for that.

Stalker: Because of his position as the Commander of the Survey Corps, he doesn't have a lot of time to stalk you. But it is his favorite free time activity. Just watching you do your daily tasks fills him with more joy than you could ever imagine.

Disappearance: Every day anew he sends soldiers to their death. He is convinced that he does not deserve you and that you will be better off with someone else. Which is why he will eventually leave you. It is even more likely that he has never approached at all.

How and when started the obsession:

Erwin feels lonely deep down. And sometimes he finds himself wishing he had someone by his side. But because of his opinion of himself, he never brought himself to change your relationship as comrades into something deeper. It was only a matter of time before all these suppressed emotions grew into something unhealthy.

Do they know that their feelings are unhealthy/not normal?

Yes and no. He was already conflicted enough with his normal feelings, so he didn't notice the change in the beginning.

How far are they willing to go?

Murder: No, never. It would never even cross his mind.

Hurting you: He would never do that either.

Blackmail: Even if he doesn't like to admit it, there have been situations where he has taken advantage of his position and made sure that this one person, who obviously was interested in you, suddenly stays miles away from you.

Kidnapping: If he wanted, he would be able to make you disappear without anyone finding even a trace of you ever again. But before it would ever come to that, he would have already distanced himself from you.

Final stage: Not even a single hair on your head would be harmed during the whole time of his obsession. Even in the end, he would never think of killing you. Maybe he thought about ending his own life in desperate hours, but he never went through with it. After all, he still had a dream.

What is it overall like to have them as a Yandere?

Honestly, you probably never really noticed his intense feelings. The worst thing that can happen to you with him is that someone from your circle of acquaintances suddenly turns away from you for reasons unknown to you.

Hanji Zoe:

Typ of Yandere:

Manipulative: Hanji is a master of gaslighting and other manipulative tactics, due to their high intelligence. As soon as you have the slightest idea about their real intentions, they immediately make you doubt yourself. They twist stories, deny things, and immediately accuse you of those actions yourself. Hanji can predict your every move. They are always one step ahead of you. Not in a million years could you ever outsmart them. It's a game for them, honestly.

Bizarre-Seeking: Of course, someone like Hanji, who is already considered strange by many for her nature anyway, must have strange preferences. When it comes to things like strands of hair, you might be able to overlook it, but she definitely collects gross things too, like your fingernails or blood. Hanji has a whole shrine filled with your things. It is their most precious possession, next to you, of course.

Restraints: The amount of time you spend with Hanji is never enough for them. It was only a matter of time before Hanji decided that the best thing for you would be to never leave their side again. Preferably, they tie you directly to them, but if that's not possible, then a chair or the like is fine for a short time.

How and when started the obsession:

I mean, Hanji has always been a little…. strange. You probably never know them any other way. But their obsession with you started when you listened to them talk for hours about Titan experiments.

Do they know that their feelings are unhealthy/not normal?

No, they don't. Hanji thinks it's completely normal to feel this way about their significant other. They don't even think it's weird that they collect your fingernails and such. If you judge them for it, then they rather think that you are the weird one. After all, why should Hanji waste such precious things or not pay any attention to them at all?

How far are they willing to go?

Murder: Hanji would definitely kill people who stand in their way. And God have mercy on anyone they chose to kill. Hanji shows no mercy and no one will ever see the mutilated remains of their victims again. Unless they choose for their own amusement to send the victim's relatives the head.

Hurting you: Should you repeatedly try to leave their side, then Hanji is not above breaking your ankles, or legs, should she see it as more fitting. Just because you've won their love and affection doesn't mean you're saved from their more violent traits. In fact, it is quite the opposite - it just makes you more interesting. There are times when Hanji tortures you or acts out their strange tendencies and cuts off your fingers to add them to their shrine. If you cry the whole time and mess up your beautiful eyes with tears, then it's better if Hanji cuts them out for you to preserve their beauty, right?

Blackmail: In case of minor incidents or at the beginning of your relationship, Hanji usually manipulated you, not infrequently with blackmail. In the later stage, however, they rather choose physical violence. So they usually only blackmail you for fun.

Kidnapping: Hanji will definitely kidnap you and bind you to them forever. There is no other outcome.

Final stage: Hanji can accidentally kill you if she tries to cut anything off of you to be able to keep it. But if you keep rejecting them or even start hating them, they will see no other way than to kill you. Now she can shape you the way she wants. Your body will remain with her forever, as the most beautiful part of her shrine. Should you die due to natural causes, then she will eat your dead body so that you can finally be one again.

What is it overall like to have them as a Yandere?

Hanji is definitely the worst and most dangerous yandere of them all. Every one of your friends and family members runs the risk of being brutally murdered by them. And even you are not spared. The possibility that you die as her darling is incredibly high. And should you not be dead, then you are highly mutilated and disfigured. With them you always walk on eggshells, afraid of what they might do. In addition, you never have a free minute from them, because they always have you near them, if not directly tied to them.

[honeygrahambitch]

Will walked into the living room without saying a word and placed a bottle of limoncello on the table. He crossed his arms as he waited for a reaction from Hannibal.

"Welcome back. Anything interesting?" He asked as he lowered the book he was reading, looking at Will past the bottle that was evidently obvious.

"I brought limoncello. The best on the island. You are not avoiding it anymore," Will said, the accusation not making Hannibal have any reaction.

"I haven't been avoiding it."

"You like lemons. You like drinks that have a lot of flavor. You like alcohol. You like Italy. What's wrong with it?"

"It is indeed a special one," Hannibal agreed, the weak smile on his face annoying Will even more. "I just don't feel like having it."

"We've been living in Italy for six months. I consumed bottles of limoncello in front of you. You refuse me every single time. It won't kill you," Will insisted as he walked into the kitchen to get glasses.

"I think limoncello is wonderful. I really appreciate it. It's nothing personal, Will."

"Why are you being so enigmatic about it? You can tell me if it makes you sick or stuff like that. Remember when we learnt about my aperol aversion?"

"How could I forget? I loved that particular suit. What a fascinating night." Hannibal said thoughtfully. "It's nothing of that sort. Limoncello doesn't make me sick."

"Perfect. Then we are drinking together tonight. It will go well with the tiramisu you made this morning." He said as he poured the yellow content into the glasses, about two fingers in each.

Hannibal could already feel the sweet perfume in the air. A drink he really used to enjoy. Was it the time to share something with Will?

"There is something very particular about limoncello," he said as he stared at the contents of his glass, "I find it delightful. However, it turns out, I have never been able to build tolerance for it."

Will arched an eyebrow. "There's no way. You are alcohol-resistant. I have only seen you slightly tipsy when we finished three bottles of wine when we got this place."

"I'm surprised you have memories from that night. You blacked out, after all."

"Don't change the subject," Will said while changing the subject, "Limoncello gets you drunk?"

"Yes. And I am not used to the feeling. Especially because I am not really myself when I'm drunk."

As a response, Will pushed the glass towards Hannibal. "You got me curious now. It's a safe space, I am here. Knock yourself out."

"No." Hannibal refused. "I don't know what I am capable of when I have zero control of my prefrontal cortex."

"Well, you murder and cannibalize people when you are in control of your prefrontal cortex. It can't get any worse."

"It will. You won't like it. I am not funny."

"I have a feeling you'd be quite entertaining," Will argued. "I have seen so many sides of you during the last years. I don't hate any of them. And," Will pauses "this is natural, Hannibal. Everyone gets drunk now and then."

Hannibal looked at his glass then at Will, then again at his glass. He was being emotionally manipulated into making himself vulnerable. There was something savory about losing all control in front of Will. At the same time, there was something terrifying in showing Will that side of himself.

"I apologize for my future actions."

(To be continued)

[dumbgoondog]

Choso Kamo Thoughts SFW/NSFW + D-Eval

MDNI NSFW +18

SFW and NSFW Headcanons collection for Choso Kamo. Along with his D-Evaluation

Cw/Tw — cannibalism, Mahito, pregnancy talk, stalking

Choso an empathetic person who takes his failures very personally. Like when he lost Eso and Kechizu. He is secretly a VERY emotional person, he just expresses it differently.

Choso forgets humans can see him. He often just does shit cuz o that. Picking up something from a food stall and jus walkin, jus goin in a theater. You get it.

He’s eaten people. He hates how human passing he is, look at his brothers! To try and separate himself from that humanity tho, he eats humans. He’s very picky tho, only certain cuts, gotta be cooked, and he claims people taste different depending on health issues. It’s not common he eats humans tho, it’s more of a treat.

Choso cooks for the disaster curses! He cooks for game night, and for celebrations but the Otha’s normally don eat. Eso and Kechizu used to help in the kitchen, and he loved it. He also has cooked with Uraume and has learned tricks from them.

Choso friends with Mahito cuz Mahito loves observing this “family unit” and learning Choso’s definitions of family. Choso likes talking about family with Mahito and about what a future for curses might look like, where hybrids would fit, could a curse like Mahito make more curses? They got fertility tests done together with the help of Kenjaku

Choso friends wit Jogo cuz Choso and old soul and that an old man. They like talking traditions and history, culture too, how that will fit in the age of curses. They drink tea and meditate togetha.

Choso acts like he’s dead. Slow, shambling, grunts more than he talks, stares, slow to respond cuz he thinkin. Watches people not cuz he judgin but cuz he can. He often lost in his own head too. Choso is Zombie and vampire coded

Choso is morbidly fascinated by the thought that Mahito could get someone pregnant and if that would make a hybrid or not. It also gets him wonderin, if there’s enough hybrids and they all start gettin it on and have kids are they hybrids or a subspecies of their own now? Choso also wonders about if Mahito got another curse pregnant what would happen?

Choso thinks about a lot of things he should NOT say out loud. Like the last point, he shouldn’t be sayin that to anyone. He might have intrusive thoughts I dunno, but he thinkin about a lot of morbid and morally gray shi

Avid reader. LOVES books. So much so he’s trying to learn other languages to read more. He’s on AO3 reading shi too. He loves seeking out indie works and small works people are makin.

He’s a stalker. Not like Mahito, he’s not a freak about it. He’s genuinely trying to just watch you, like a show or movie. He’s not stealing your stuff, or breakin in anywhere, he’s not bothering you on the clock he just watches from a distance. This has lead him to protect you from other curses and even humans a few times, he doesn’t think you owe him anything for it.

He probably takes Itadori as his last name after finding out Yuji is his bro. He WILL want you to take Itadori too. He wants to start the Itadori clan! A clan for hybrids, his brothers, the family!

He thinks the really small flyheads, are cute! He keeps one like a pet. It’s not sentient after all.

Classical music. Goth Music. And when I say classical I mean traditional Japanese music not Motzart, tho he does want to start branching out to other countries classical music!

Choso Kamo D-Evaluation

GIRTH HELL. 5.7in girth. For ref a toilet paper tube(middle bit) is 6in circumference/girth. Shit gonna stretch ya TIGHT. Length tho 6in. Above average length, pretty good, that girth takes it up high tho. Tight trim, hair kinda messy still tho, well washed. He’s got no visible veins and leans to the left where he tucks it. Thick, hot, loads. Porn animation style. Pretty white color, tastes honestly pretty ok for a dead dude. Kinda bitter tho. He’s got smallish balls which makes you wonder where all that cum from. Surprisingly fertile, but lower fertility. He cums at least twice a session, after the first one his face might start leaking a bit and he pull you on top of him.

[coffin-ramblings]

Ashley is "very not good" and "in fact very bad". That is what the promo card tells us.

The flippant attitude to cannibalism and murder, the abuse and manipulation of Andrew, and constant death threats to Julia prove that, so why do they need to say that? Isn't that enough to prove that she's a bad person? On the same promo, we are told Andrew "exists" and is a "doormat extraordinaire", which while true, is a lot more complicated than it looks. He does not just "exists", he was the one who raised Ashley thus one of her "creators", and he is not that much of (if he ever was) a doormat extraordinaire, he lets Ashley make the choices because it's what he wants, and has asserted power several times throughout the game for his and Ashley's benefit. So is what the promo says about Ashley completely true in light of that? Is the truth perhaps a lot more complicated, as it was with Andrew?

Furthermore, it's quite odd how Ashley is quick to accept being called a "tar soul" and how she implies she's a bad person too when she and Andy buried Nina's body.

And in Decay vision, if she kills Andrew, she goes on a rant about how she's glad he's dead, despite it clearly being the worst thing she has ever experienced.

While it's easy to think that she's having a mental breakdown and saying stuff out of madness, I have seen someone (can't find the post though) argue that this is Ashley's attempt to continue her self-narrative that she is a "bad person". She believes no one likes her because she's a bad person. She thinks not even Andrew likes her, and she "has to" drag him the "good person" to be her level of the "bad person" to keep him stuck with her. And when she kills her brother, her parent, her best friend, her soulmate, her everything, she immediately jumps to the justification that she is glad that he died instead of being devastated that he tried to kill her, because bad people can't feel remorse and heartbreak from having to kill someone they love, right?

And I'm inclined to agree with them. Ashley's thought process of pranking Nina is that she'll have her back as a friend after she learns her "lesson", even though she isn't happy being constantly left out or avoided by her.

She didn't hate Nina then, she was afraid of being even more lonely than before if Nina takes Andrew's attention away from her. And her initial reactions to Nina's death was to go "oops", try to justify why she died, cover it up by burying her, and after she's buried, Ashley says that she can just forget about her by not thinking about her for a long time.

That is not the reaction of someone "bad" reveling in their victory of an innocent person's death and trying to get away with it, that is the reaction of a kid who went through something traumatic, not want to get in trouble for it, and trying to rationalize it with something that sounds like an adult in their life (Renee?) would say. Then their brain triggers dissociative amnesia because remembering it would cause great stress and PTSD. Given how stressful Leyley's life was and still is, it makes sense that's her brain's main coping method, and Nina's death was just another instance of it shunting trauma away in an attempt to keep PTSD from happening. It is likely that amnesia made Ashley quite forgetful, as dissociative amnesia does not affect just one singular event, it also affects other memories as an overprotective measure. This also may be why she develops such a flippant attitude to their crimes: joking about them helps her not have to confront the weight of what they just did. Thus, even that attitude being a marker of her being a "bad person" is more questionable. Really, her actions that have the intent to directly harm people are what her make a bad person, but I digress.

The idea that her flippant attitude is perhaps not a good marker of her being a "bad person" is best shown in Episode 1 after they eat the neighbor. Ashley is made aware that her devil-may-care attitude is quite abnormal and worrying for Andrew, which worries her. If she talks before going to bed, she gets visibly confused and worried at Andrew saying she needs to see a professional.

When he later asks how she's so unbothered by the cannibalism, she replies she says she compartmentalizes nervously, which she then follows up afterwards with a joke to not have to dwell on it.

That specific coping method of compartmentalization is the same thing Andrew's brain does in his dream in Episode 2, where it ends with him having a flashback of burying Nina.

In fact, it's interesting how we never get to see adult Ashley's every day psyche. This is not the same as seeing her thoughts and perspectives in the waking world, nor is it the same as the Burial vision where it's Ashley's self-narrative of her life from childhood to adulthood and how she potentially changes it. We never get to see her dream without it being a vision, a glimpse of what her mind looks like in the present processing her experiences in the every day and the past.

This is particularly crucial because while Nina appears while Andrew's brain is doing its standard compartmentalizing of Andrew's current stresses, the only times Nina appears in Ashley's head (outside of Burial vision) were flashbacks of when she is doing this as a child. While it's framed as the moment when Andrew "proves" his devotion to her, flashbacks similar to PTSD ones can happen alongside dissociative amnesia, and they do occur in dreams. Even though Ashley has forgotten Nina's name and eyes, she is always there, haunting her dreams.

This all suggests that the plot twist of our perceptions of the characters in episode 3 is that when we finally get to play Ashley in her normal dreams or see her mental breakdown (maybe if she kills Andrew?), we find out that she feels some sort of guilt for Nina's death and perhaps their other crimes. Even though she insists to herself she doesn't feel guilt about that because she is a "bad person", it is all a lie that she manages to convince to herself and the audience. This would be very shocking as we're in her head a lot of the time, so we'd assume she can't lie to us. But she has all along, just like how Andrew has to us.

[lrithill]

NSFW ARTphabet Headcanon: The Sacred Clown Porn Manuscript (R-Z)

Greetings, sinners and scholars!

This is the final part of the NSFW ARTphabet and I bring it to you with the reverence it truly deserves.

It's my absolute favorite. It includes my favorite letter (W), the lines I had the most fun writing, plus gore, lots of unhinged humor, romantic nonsense (essential, obviously)… and sex—he kind that makes you scream to the heavens and foam at the mouth.

In this final chapter we’ve got: homemade porn videos, the FBI, perpetual erection curses, sleep paralysis, first-hand ARTisanal milk, gumm pass (I’ll just say it could’ve been worse—and you do not want the extended cut), virginity, scorpion-tail dicks, and an ending so blasphemously tender you’ll forget just how much degeneracy you consumed and enjoyed (because that's just how it is with Art ).

*And give me some credit—yes, I made the gif myself because I needed that exact movie scene and none of the existing ones captured the vision.*

Part 1 (A-I):

https://www.tumblr.com/lrithill/780285284765089792/nsfw-artphabet-headcanon-the-sacred-clown-porn?source=share

Part 2 (J-Q):

https://www.tumblr.com/lrithill/780916090799783936/nsfw-artphabet-headcanon-the-sacred-clown-porn?source=share

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Absolutely.

Art is more than willing to explore the limits of pleasure—to him, anything goes, as long as it brings satisfaction. To him or to his partner.

I think this entire ARTphabet has made it painfully clear what kinds of risks Art is willing to take:

Sex in public? Yes.

Toys? Yes.

Kinks? Yes.

BDSM? Yes.

Morally questionable practices? Absolutely.

Role changing? He wants to— but you’ll have to get him drunk to admit it. (Though he might let it slip eventually.)

Piss play? Yes.

Cannibalism? Yes.

Necrophilia? Yes.

But here’s a particularly hilarious kind of risk Art would totally be down for: Considering he’s not just a killer, but one of the most dangerous men on Earth, and the electric chair is practically waiting for him with open arms…

There’s one risk that really gets his blood pumping.

Recording himself.

On video.

While fucking you.

And uploading it to every porn site in existence.

He’s obsessed with the idea that the only clue Miles County authorities have to work with is a three-hour porno (minimum) where he does the filthiest shit imaginable to you.

Art’s addicted to risk—but not just any risk.

What turns him on is the idea of being seen, but never caught.

Even more than that—he gets off on playing with the people trying to catch him.

That’s why filming himself fucking you—a tape where he breaks you, devours you, fills you, worships you, degrades you, loves you, ruins you—drives him insane.

Almost as insane as Interpol’s about to get.

He imagines his sex tape projected inside every precinct in Miles.

On big screens.

In PowerPoint presentations.

In university lectures on criminal profiling.

All in a desperate attempt to find anything.

They’d have to swallow—literally—a freakshow of relentless, brutal, romantic porn, analyzing it frame by frame…FOR NOTHING.

Because Art would make sure your identity is perfectly censored.

Your voice? Distorted.

The setting? Unrecognizable.

No sign of your home—just some dark, Deep Web-style basement.

He wants every sexual forensic analyst watching it, screenshotting, zooming, taking notes, frowning in frustration (or maybe… arousal).

He wants them to study it like it’s the Holy Grail of underground porn.

And if any of his enemies get hard watching it? Even better.

Let them jerk off knowing they’ll never catch him.

Let them know he’s a killer—but also the best fuck of their lives, without even touching them.

(And yes, he would definitely reply to every comment on the video.)

LOCATION: Underground Office of the Special Tracking Unit (S.T.U.), 02:41 AM.

The room is dim, lit only by the cold blue glow of the giant screen where the footage plays on loop.

There’s stale coffee, half-smoked cigarettes, and an air thick with shared trauma.

Minute 38:07

“I swear, if I see one more POV shot of that guy eating that girl’s ass like he’s searching for a secret passage, I quit.” The chief’s smoking half a cigarette—his third in a row. His eyes are glassy, and his left eyebrow’s twitching.

“Should I skip ahead?” says another agent—rookie. Nervous.

His finger hovers dangerously close to the “skip 10 sec” button.

“No, wait. He might change angles.” says the agent closest to the screen, his face like he hasn’t blinked in all 38 minutes. He clears his throat, trying to justify himself. “There could be something written on the wall, I dunno...” He sips his coffee with shaky hands.

Minute 56:45

“You think that’s his girlfriend or a hostage?” the rookie asks, trying to sound professional.

“Has to be the girlfriend. She’s sucking him off like she owes him rent and driving points.”

Suddenly, the angle shifts.

Art moves the camera away from his partner and straps it to her head.

Now we see it all from your point of view: an upward shot of him moaning, licking his lips, looking like a Greek god with a praise kink and zero shame—obscene, erotic, powerful.

“He’s looking straight at us like he’s saying, ‘Are you connecting the dots, detectives?’” someone murmurs.

“What I’m connecting is that this guy’s narcissism has more layers than a Chernobyl onion.”

Art strokes the camera—slowly. Like it’s a puppy. He smiles, tenderly.

“He’s making us his bitches,” says a voice—raspy, almost defeated.

“Yeah. And the worst part is… it’s working,” adds another, sitting down cross-legged on the chair.

Art keeps moaning, loving every second of the blowjob.

Then, without warning, he lifts the camera and points it directly at his face.

He smiles. Winks.

And starts making out with the lens.

His tongue drags across the glass, fogging it up.

They hear everything.

The kisses. Your moans. The wet sounds. Life falling apart—in HD.

A heavy silence falls over the room.

“I’ve been married 15 years, and no one’s ever kissed me like that,” whispers the lead agent.

“I can see all his molars…”

“Quick, someone get forensics to make a mold of his teeth!” shouts another, jumping to his feet.

“Might match the bite marks.”

“We’ve got enough bite marks from this guy to host a dental exhibition…and he knows it. At this point, we know his mouth well enough to get him custom braces ”.

Minute 1:34:24

“There! There!” shouts one agent, freezing the image and pointing with a laser pointer.

The camera is focused on Art’s ass.

Zoom.

A tattoo.

“What does that say…?” someone leans closer.

“Fuck the police.”

Silence.

“Either he did that with a fork, or he Sharpied it during an orgasm.”

“You think it has a double meaning?”

“There’s a triple meaning. And that is illegal in five countries.”

Minute 2:49:12

The screen now shows Art pissing directly onto the camera. A golden stream hits the lens dead-on.

“I don’t get paid enough for this…” one agent facepalms and sips his cold coffee.

“We’re gonna have to rewatch it… just in case.”

“I’m docking your pay.”

Memory Log

File 69 — Classified Evidence

Viewed 37 times by agents. No useful leads.

One agent requested a copy of the analyzed footage: He was terminated.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Art must be under some kind of perpetual erection curse, because dear God…

For him, exhaustion is a kink.

He sees you trembling, gasping, on the verge of passing out—and gets excited like a kid opening his Christmas present.

“Look what we did. One more round?” he thinks, already licking his lips.

And of course, you say no—you can’t take any more. But he’s already on top of you.

Again.

He’ll fuck you until you fall asleep from pure exhaustion—until your brain taps out and sends you straight into the "Brothel Coma", as he lovingly calls it—where he becomes your personal sexy sleep paralysis demon.

Art is insatiable.

Excessive.

Intense.

Playful.

When you finally go to bed to sleep—ha. That’s cute.

There are many, many stages to get through before sleep even dares to show up.

He crawls over you, kisses you like a starved man. He can’t help himself. He grinds his erection against you without shame— his way of saying, ‘I need you’, while holding you tight, devouring your mouth.

And when you’re done—he cuddles you.

Tries to be sweet, so you can drift off after the orgasm… But he can’t resist.

He tries to hold back—but the craving devours him.

His soft caresses turn possessive.

His affectionate kisses shift into hungry bites—his tongue claims your mouth, your neck, your ears…

He loves eating your ears. He knows it drives you wild, so he never misses the chance to leave you with not a drop of earwax left.

It’s not his fault—you turn him on too much.

Those gentle rocking motions meant to lull you like a baby? Yeah. They end in thrusts.

And you... can’t stop this train.

There’s no point in trying.

Soon enough, he’s got you right where he wants you. And he fucks you like his life depends on it.

He adores seeing you wrecked: Hair a mess, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth, eyes rolled back, tits bouncing with every thrust—it makes his mouth water.

And if you pass out at some point? He doesn’t care.

He’ll keep going like you’re his own sex doll.

And that? That turns him on even more.

Having you at his mercy all night, knowing you won’t even be able to walk in the morning…

You make him the happiest man on the planet.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Art loves toys.

He doesn’t just buy them—that would be far too normal. He customizes them to his image.

He builds them. They’re part of his personal collection of instruments…and oh, what a collection.

One of his favorites is a retractable drill.

Originally, he made it as a weapon—and yes, he used it as such. It was hilarious turning that poor guy into SpongeBob.

But then he realized something glorious: he could attach all kinds of things to the drill bit. Wicked things like… dildos.

He’ll put you on the bed, tied up—of course—and load up the drill with a monster cock, or whichever dildo you like best—Art always wants to see you enjoy yourself.

And then he’ll literally drill your pussy.

That bit spins at inhuman speeds, without getting tired, without complaining—because the one doing the complaining is you, sweetheart.

Art loves watching you become a screaming mess under that delicious torment.

The speed creates an optical illusion—it looks like the dildo’s not moving, but it’s going full throttle.

The vibrations ripple through your body—like he plugged you into a high-voltage power line.

And he’s just there, all comfy, holding the drill like he’s mounting a shelf.

Sometimes he goes further: slides a vibrator deep into your ass. Or presses a Hitachi wand against your clit, giving you triple stimulation with zero mercy.

And when you cum? Oh lord.

You’re a fountain.

“Squirter: Hydro Pump!” as Ash Ketchup would say.

You leave Art—who’s behind you—soaked like he just went down a waterslide, like he came straight out of the Amazon, like he rehearsed Singing in the Rain with actual stormwater.

He’s gonna need a canoe to exit the room.

And still—he won’t remove a single toy until you’re on the verge of death by dehydration.

You’ll pee the bed more than once from the overstimulation, and Art’s face will be nothing but euphoria.

He adores you.

You’re his masterpiece.

No doubt.

But not all the toys are for you… no no.

Though Art’s a bit reserved about it, every now and then—he treats himself to a little fun.

Once, on a farm, he found a cow milking machine.

And oh… that thing had too much potential to ignore.

He took it.

Cleaned it.

Added speed settings and a stop command.

And then he went on an adventure.

He loves being your little cow—being milked until he’s completely dry.

All his milk, straight into your mouth…or wherever you want it.

He approaches you, acting all cocky—biting his lip, pretending not to beg… but leaking like a faucet.

The only thing missing is a moo.

“I won’t stop ‘til I get cream, my deluxe dairy cow,” you whisper as the machine sucks the demons out of him by the dick. “Maybe we can make cheese out of you. I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for science.”

And he nods.

Of course he nods.

For science.

For love.

For cheese.

He’s already visualizing the insane business you’re about to start. The branding. The jars with his face on them: “Art’s Premium Milk – Straight from the Source.”

You know him.

He’s gonna patent it.

Slogan: “You can’t make clown café… without clown.”

Brand: ARTesanak Milk & Cheese S.O.S. Hand-milked. Machine-milked. Fully blessed.

Ad campaign: Art riding a cow like a sensual rodeo star, wearing a cow-print apron, ass out, sweating like he… just got off a long, hard shift.

100% Organic.

0% Shame.

“Perfect to pair with a juicy steak. Which is, definitely… not a cow steak”

Fine print: Nothing is from cow.

This is his golden goose—Wait. WAIT. Don’t give him more ideas, please.

Customer Reviews:

James (45, frequent buyer, also frequent victim):⭐⭐⭐

"I had sleep paralysis for 36 hours.

I rode the side effects—I didn’t think the ‘Brothel Coma’ was meant literally. They did things to me during those 36 hours… I think I almost found the secret formula.

My wife left me days later—after I bought 3 batches of cheese.

The worst part isn’t that she left… it’s that she took the cheese."

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He drives you insane.

He’s a certified bastard.

It doesn’t matter how much you’re trembling, begging, whimpering, falling apart… Art just does whatever the fuck he wants.

Always.

You’ve been lying there for minutes—hours? Years?—naked, soaked, legs wide open, muscles twitching on the verge of collapse.

And he’s between your thighs, admiring you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen—which you are—but the hatred in your eyes only makes you more charming to him.

He leans close to your clit… and breathes on it.

Warm.

Like he’s fogging up glasses.

He slides his tongue near it—so close…too close. Every nerve screams to push your hips into his face—but you know better. If you move without permission…he’ll make you regret it.

He laughs at you, lifting his head, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers like a sweet little schoolboy—as if what he’s doing is perfectly reasonable, and not simultaneously physical and psychological torture.

He kisses your tits—not as eager as usual, but just enough to give you hope.

Then he trails kisses down your belly, carving a path down your trembling skin.

He’s getting closer.

Closer to your aching, desperate center.

You shut your eyes, bracing for those kisses to finally land where you need them most—

And just when it seems like he’s going to do it…

He fakes you out.

His kisses pass right by your clit, almost waving goodbye to it mid-flight—like it’s a stranger to him...

So disrespectful.

And he keeps going…all the way down…to your knee.

And he makes out with your knee.

Your. Fucking. Knee.

He kisses your knee exactly the way you want him to eat your pussy.

He even massages your calf with one hand—like he suddenly has a master’s degree in erogenous zones of latex balloons.

You feel him smile against your knee.

That bastard.

“You want me to beg, don’t you?” you growl through your teeth. “It’s not enough to see me writhing, arched, teary-eyed, huh?”

Art makes puppy eyes, then gives you the “just a little” finger gesture—index and thumb close together—inviting your best performance. A fast-track humiliation.

“I’ve been such a good girl… I earned it… please, Art… I need you inside me…” you plead, voice soaked in desperate, filthy sweetness.

He nods, satisfied. Delighted by your prayer. He does the little Spider-Man finger move—he knows that drives you wild.

And he gives you exactly what you asked for.

He puts two fingers inside you.

And leaves them there.

Like he’s taking your fucking temperature.

He looks at you with that smug grin, as if to say:

“You like that? You think you’re gonna cum now?”

You grunt.

Groan.

Pray.

You know you’re gonna be here a long time.

Sometimes, he uses other forms of torture—on days when he’s feeling especially cruel.

Like fucking you agonizingly slow—like a grandpa who just rose from his wheelchair—from the grave, even—just to have one last fuck.

Or when he turns into a statue right at your climax.

Two seconds away from touching the sky…

He stops.

Stops.

And stares at you.

Like he’s just seen the Virgin Mary appear in front of him.

Like he’s witnessing a miracle.

He watches the smile fade from your lips.

Watches the light leave your eyes.

Feels your walls stop contracting.

And then… he kisses you. Deep. Slow. Damned.

Like he doesn’t know your whole body is about to detonate.

He kisses you with genuine love. Because he’s in love. Not with you…

But with your suffering.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Uhh… he’s mute.

But that doesn’t mean he’s quiet.

He breathes.

And with every thrust, his breathing changes: he sighs , exhales , sucks air through his teeth, pants with a heaving chest, sweating.

Every sound his body makes escapes him like he just can’t hold it in.

He’s incredibly expressive. He doesn’t need words. His body says everything.

Mouth parted.

Eyes rolling back.

Lips bitten in desperation.

Brows furrowed—knit together with pleasure.

You may not hear him moan… but you know he’s screaming on the inside.

And he doesn’t try to hide it.

Quite the opposite—he wants you to know.

He wants you to see how good you make him feel. To understand that you’re driving him mad, too.

He kisses you.

And in that kiss, two moans collide—soundless, but overwhelming.

Silence and hunger crash together.

He pulls back just enough, lips still brushing yours—breathing into your mouth, both of you trembling, tongues timidly seeking one another, sliding forward to taste, to tangle.

A frenzy of passion.

A symphony of bodies that don’t need to speak to say everything.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Back in his teenage years, Art never had much luck with girls—or boys. He didn’t know how to flirt. He didn’t understand the rules.

And people found him… off.

Even though he was far from the creature he is now, he already felt like a misfit.

Often—on the schoolyard, or just walking down the street—he’d stop and stare at young couples kissing, discovering each other for the first time.

And there was one kind of kiss that fascinated him in particular: the gum pass.

There was something about it that stirred something deep in his chest. Watching two wet, eager tongues share a piece of sweet gum—a mix of lust and innocence that left him entranced.

Of course, he grew up… and never got to try it.

Until now.

But his tastes have changed.

Gum doesn’t do it for him anymore. He needs something more… intense.

If you’re with him—and you happen to witness a murder up close—you’ll see him approach the poor bastard.

He plucks out an eye—preferably while they’re still breathing. Right at the end.

He slips it into his mouth. Rolls it on his tongue.

It’s already slippery, but he soaks it in saliva, savors it like it’s a candy.

And then he kisses you.

And he passes you the eye.

You take it in—half disgusted, half laughing. It’s soft. Fibrous. Mucousy. With a hint of metal.

You try to pass it back, but he refuses —slowly pushing it back… deeper into your mouth, like it belongs there… using nothing but his tongue. He wants it to melt into you.

To swim in your warmth.

It turns him on beyond belief.

The optic nerve brushes your tongue, tickles between your teeth, leaves a little twitch of nerves behind.

You make him feel like a teenager again—but better in every possible way.

This is his version of a first kiss. And for so long, it’s what he wanted.

Art doesn’t make a sound, but his breath says everything. He’s fully turned on. He can’t stop.

You feel it in the way he bites your lower lip.

In his closed eyes, losing himself in the moment.

In the hard length already pressing between your legs.

A chill runs down your spine—a pull so visceral you don’t know if it’s from disgust or desire, but it blends perfectly with the heat burning between your thighs.

Art feels it too.

You can see it in the way he grinds against you—hard, pulsing, lost in this sick , perfect moment.

He doesn’t need words—his hands tell you everything.

He grabs your jaw with blood-stained fingers—fresh blood still dripping down his forearms—holding you close, like he never wants this kiss to end.

His tongue keeps searching for yours, never stopping its dance around the eye still sliding between your mouths.

It’s repulsive.

It’s delicious.

It’s perfect.

It’s so intimate—you feel like virgins.

Without warning, he slams you against the wall—his weight crushing you, his hands gripping your hips, tracing every curve like he’s discovering you for the first time.

He hikes your skirt up, quick and clumsy from how wrecked with need he is.

He doesn’t take your panties off. Just pushes them aside. That’s all he needs.

And when he enters you—it’s all at once.

With the kind of force that screams: “I needed this.”

He fucks you like he’s been waiting years.

And maybe… he has.

He moans silently, and you feel him vibrate inside you.

Your walls tighten, and you both know this won’t last long.

You’re melting into a kiss that feels like your first—like the first time either of you ever knew what it meant to burn for someone.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His cock is just as dangerous as the rest of him.

About eight inches of mass destruction.

Twenty centimeters of punishment and reward.

And here’s something you should know: he doesn’t wear underwear.

Ever.

Nobody knows what he has against briefs…but there he goes, ding-a-linging around, balls swinging, heavy and unrestrained.

Sometimes you wonder how he manages to go "full commando" under that suit. He’s risking someone grabbing his balls and squeezing.

Maybe that turns him on. Nobody knows for sure.

(He probably does. And he enjoys the risk.)

As for color?

Same as the rest of him—snow-white.

Also, he's Team shower.

Which means he’s always on full display—he doesn’t need to get hard to intimidate. That thing hangs like it’s ready for war 24/7.

Art loves to brag about his big dick.

And of course, he adores nudity.

When you first met him, you nearly fell backward the first time you saw him naked.

There he was—completely, unapologetically bare-assed —watching TV like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Legs spread wide, his arms thrown over the backrest, cock dangling with absolute impunity.

So casual. So chill. So offensively at ease with himself.

And you just stood there, staring—not sure whether to scream, scold him, kick him out, embrace his nudist lifestyle, sit beside him… 

Sit on him?

And it’s not just the size.

Thick. Curved. Veiny. Intimidating. 

Built to hit all the right spots—and the wrong ones.

Especially the wrong ones. The ones you feel the most. The ones he loves the most.

Made—whether he likes it or not—to give pleasure.

Sometimes, it actually pisses him off.

“Why can’t I have a venomous scorpion tail for a cock?” he’s thought more than once.

That would be fun, he thinks—using it to stab people. He’s spent plenty of time fantasizing about it, laughing to himself at the possibilities.

But then he remembers how good it feels to impale you.

He loves watching you open up for him, watching himself disappear inside you, inch by inch, slowly.

He knows how deep he goes—all the way to your navel.

Like he’s rearranging your guts to make space, or like they move aside just for him.

And what obsesses him most is that moment he’s inside you…watching you struggle to take it.

He feels your body adjust—your pussy clenching, trying to accommodate that massive, unmovable object.

The look on your face.

Brows furrowed.

Eyes squeezed shut.

Lip between your teeth.

Hands gripping the sheets.

Your breath hitching.

He watches you with drool on his chin—dying to fuck you into heaven… or hell.

“Wait, Art…” you beg, trembling. “I’m trying to fit you in…”

And just when it seems like you’re managing—when you finally take a breath—

BAM.

He thrusts the rest in.

All the way.

Until you feel his balls smack your ass.

The bastard was holding back the last few inches for the end.

And he laughs when you freeze—mouth open, eyes unfocused—like you’re genuinely afraid he might… fuck your heart.

(He already fucked your brain, that much is certain.)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

In his teenage years and early youth, he was… normal.

Or at least, what you’d expect from someone his age. He had a sex drive, fantasies, curiosity (he was a weirdo tough).

But as he grew older, and started to understand his true feelings toward people, all of that began to dim.

And once he became a killer, his sexual desire nearly vanished altogether.

Only a few fetishes remained—dark, extreme ones—like necrophilia, piquerism... But sex with a living human being? The idea of a relationship? That felt alien.

He was beyond that.

The only thing that truly gave him pleasure… was killing.

Still, he always knew how to have fun with his victims.

He understood how uncomfortable it is when a stranger tries to flirt with you—and he learned to weaponize that.

He didn’t mind kissing someone, holding hands, even dancing.

But it was never about desire.

It was about amusement. Mockery. Control. A twisted little manipulation game.

He’d play nice—just enough to lower your guard—right before showing you how deep the horror really goes.

Until you came into his life.

He was in a weakened state, vulnerable.

So he figured he’d use you—crash at your place, eat, recover…

You weren’t annoying.

You didn’t run.

You didn’t hide.

You didn’t question him.

He tried to fit you into the role of a tool, a toy, a service—but for some reason, you didn’t quite belong in any of those boxes.

And that cracked something open inside his mind—Uncomfortable. Rotten. Irresistible.

He’d stare at you, trying to figure you out…and you’d stare right back.

He wanted to see fear in your eyes—but what he found instead was… humanity?

He saw his own reflection in your pupils. And suddenly, he looked like… someone?

You didn’t see him as a monster.

You looked at him like he was your friend, or something.

It was unbearable.

Unacceptable.

A waking nightmare.

Until one night, he had a real one.

You, touching him with gentleness.

You, holding his dirty hands.

You, kissing his bloodied mouth.

You, moaning his name while he fucked you—not as punishment, not as part of the game. As if you wanted him.

He woke up tense, panting, sweating like a pig.

And hard. Like an idiot.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, he touched himself thinking of a real woman—not for fun.

Not for mockery.

But because he actually needed it.

And he imagined you watching him.

Slipping under the sheets, brushing his hand away to touch him yourself.

And worse—he wanted you to touch yourself thinking of him.

For days, he hated himself for it.

He thought about killing you. Torturing you. Burning you. Tearing you apart.

But he couldn’t.

For reasons that terrified him more than anything—he never could.

And his sex drive began to grow. Day by day.

Every time he saw you. Every accidental touch, every shared meal, every nap, every smile…

He wanted you.

And he hated himself for it.

And when he finally took you—when he trembled inside you—he made sure that your thirst for him matched his own.

He’d like to think it did.

But deep down, he knows it’s impossible.

No one could ever want anything as much as he wants you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Art doesn’t need much sleep. He’s restless. Hyperactive. He needs to stay in motion—keep his mind occupied.

Thinking. Creating. Destroying.

But after sex… It’s like flipping a switch inside his brain.

Blackout.

His eyes start to close. He tries to fight it, but he can’t.

His body craves a break—just a moment of peace, a pause from the chaos that consumes him.

A little refuge.

So he curls up next to you. He finds you. He settles in—and kisses you…until he falls asleep.

He needs your naked body against his, your warmth, your fingers tracing him softly.

Sometimes it’s spooning—he doesn’t care who’s big spoon.

Sometimes it’s him on his back, with your head on his chest.

And sometimes, he’s completely sprawled over you—using you as a mattress.

His forehead rests against the crook of your neck, arms and legs wrapped around you like a serpent, refusing to let go.

But then there are times he doesn’t sleep.

He just lies there, staring at you.

Not in a psychotic way—well… maybe a little—but more like adoration.

You, so full of him—so filled with his cum, his venom, his madness—, so his. And yet… at peace.

And in that moment, he knows—without a doubt:

He didn’t regret not killing you. Not for a second.

He wants you by his side. Forever.

Even fully aware of what that entails

But when he does fall asleep beside you, you can't help but whisper all the things you love about him.

You know he adores your voice. And even more, he adores hearing what you have to say.

“Have I ever told you all the things I like about you?”

“You’re funny. You always make me laugh with those hand gestures and faces only you can make.”

“You’re clever. You always find a solution when I feel overwhelmed—even if… sometimes they’re a little drastic.”

“You’re delicate. You do horrible things… but you touch me like you’re afraid to break me.”

“You’re patient. You fight so hard to hold yourself back, even when it tears you apart.”

“You’re innocent. When you tilt your head, like you're trying to understand something you can only feel.”

“You’re attentive. You don’t say anything… but somehow, you always let me know everything.”

“You’re sweet. When you hold me like you never want to let go.”

“You’re naughty. You get turned on by things no one else would.”

“You’re honest. You've never sent me mixed signals.”

“You’re romantic. In your own bizarre, beautiful way.”

“You’re poetic. A blend of art and chaos.”

“You’re weird. But so am I.”

“You're one of a kind.”

You pause. He breathes deeply, slower—as if your words are caressing him.

“I like you, Art. All of you. Exactly as you are. You make me happy.”

Thank you for reading all the way to the end.

If you’ve made it through all three parts… you must be a true masochist and honestly, I fear you.

And if you liked, commented or rebloged—you're in my heart forever (no escape).

I’ve seen those wholesome SFW alphabets going around… NO.

I won’t do it…

(…unless?)

After this unhinged amount of porn, please expect my next fanfic to be soft, emotional, cute, gentle, pretty, with fireworks and music...

I need to detox, please… I...

I NEED THERAPY, FOR GOD'S SAKE.

Part 1 (A-I):

https://www.tumblr.com/lrithill/780285284765089792/nsfw-artphabet-headcanon-the-sacred-clown-porn?source=share

Part 2 (J-Q):

https://www.tumblr.com/lrithill/780916090799783936/nsfw-artphabet-headcanon-the-sacred-clown-porn?source=share

[sammysodatime]

what creature that didnt fuck sam should've fucked sam

HELLHOUND (this did happen in the cage i’m sure of it. but i should have gotten to watch). sam knotted and crying. not big on cum inflation but perhaps i am in this particular situation….. just a little…. lucifer pressing on his belly and telling sam all about how he's going to be a lovely mother to a litter of little hellhound puppies

not actually a creature but the benders should have featured a gross cannibal gangbang with sam in the middle. wanna see him gagging on nasty unwashed cock. bonus if he throws up but they don’t let him stop. shoutout to this fucking banger of a fic btw

eve but in mary’s form. 6x19 left me Thinking…. the emphasis on motherhood…... somehow seducing sam while wearing the visage of his dead mom.......

i think the infected people in 11x01 should have gotten MUCH freakier with him in that closet

also not creature but that dude from 13x11 should have stripped sam naked and showed him off for the stream. can't fuck him because that would risk damaging the goods but really violate him. maybe break out the speculum for maximum showing-off-the-product And humiliation purposes

honestly spn is severely lacking in sexy grotesque creatures on account of the “99% of monsters are Just Some Guy” situation. as a result i may be forgetting some random monster(s) of the week that should have fucked sam silly. i mean i think we could have had some crazy leviathan action if the spn writers weren't cowards and also if it didn't air on the cw

tangentially related thing that came to mind as i was answering this: i think gabriel should have put sam and dean in a porno in changing channels. either something really cheesy (did someone order a pizza etc etc) or something really hardcore. sam bound on an X-cross ass-out. better play along!!!

[derangedanomaly]

Hi, I was hoping to request a scenario with undertale bros, underfell, underswap, and horrortale. (Ignore horrortalenif itsnalready to much) and in this, reader is blind. People have the ability to heal blindness now since monsters got to the overworld because of the healing magic, but there's that 1% of people who just can't be healed. I would love to see how they would act when first meeting them and how they eventually grow to see them as best friend or lover. You can depend d if it's best friend or lover I'm fine with ether!

Thank you for reading this, and please have a nice day/afternoon! Also stay safe!

This is really interesting! Y'all are getting really creative with these scenarios. I like it! I also hope you have a nice day/afternoon, and stay safe! Enjoy! (Also, sorry for the delay)

Masterlist

UNDERTALE AUS X BLIND READER

(Undertale, Underfell, Underswap, Horrortale)

Warning: mention of cannibalism in the Horrortale part (not very detailed though)

UNDERTALE

They're both so considerate of you. They want you to have absolutely no problems while walking around anywhere. (Papyrus is your own assigned shield )

They're both very surprised when they found out that you're one of a kind with this 'defect'.

Papyrus will immediately want to be your friend! He will try so hard to gain your friendship.

Sans on the other hand will kinda avoid you. Unless you need help with something. He WILL help you. No matter if you're friends or not. He just has this respect towards you.

Who knows. Maybe- they'll want to become more than friends 😉 (Depending on your relationship with them) (this goes for all the following AU's!!)

UNDERSWAP

Sans feels this need to help you out a lot of times. Which makes you in turn feel a little "pathetic".. but you know he means well!

Papyrus will be around you quite a lot, because he wants to help you out whenever. (Similar to Classic, just without avoiding you)

They both just help you out. Though Papyrus does so in secret, while Sans...not as much.

Since Sans keeps in contact with Error, he introduces him to you! You and Error immediately click together, Error's short sight and your blindness is the core reason for your friendship. (Even though they're not really the same thing)

Sans is delighted that you two get along so well! But after a few interactions...he starts to feel jealous. (Lmao, you started this though 💀)

Papyrus doesn't want you to have any sort of connection with Error. He wants you to stop interacting with him immediately. It's worse enough that Sans keeps in contact with Error. (Let the besties be! 🙄)

UNDERFELL

Lmao, they don't give a shit about your defect. They'll still treat you as if you never even HAD any blindness. (That's so sweet though, wtf?)

Sans will probably make lots of jokes about blind people. (They're pretty much dark jokes)

Papyrus on the other hand will sometimes forget that you're blind, and will "accidentally" slip up. (Many times)

"You seeing this shit Y/n?" <- Papyrus 2024

Papyrus and Sans will accompany you a lot though. You'll be squished between them a lot. (What dream-)

They act like such brutes, but once they're alone with you, they'll turn into soft puddles. (Lmao. Imagine that.)

HORRORTALE:

Horror actually likes the fact you can't see him.. he thinks like that because he knows you'll probably be very terrified of him if you would've seen him in person. (Poor baby-)

Papyrus is kinda oblivious to your blindness, until Sans has to point it out to him.

They're both very much- worried about your safety.

Look, they don't doubt your abilities, it's just that you being blind makes you an easy target. The solution? SKELE-BROTHERS PROTECTION SQUAD!! (Papyrus came up with the name 💀)

They're very violent towards the people that cross ways with you. I swear- they don't hesitate to kill people for you.

Papyrus kinda turned you into a cannibal accidentally- he fed you his famous spaghetti 💀

But you know, you didn't know the contents of the meal, and was enjoying it too much. And you know... The more you had it the more you became addicted to it. (I mean, it's Horrortale. What did you expect?)

You knew that you were eating human meat at some point, since Papyrus and Sans kept dropping hints. (Aka. Making it obvious) but you were too far into eating it, this being the 10th time Papyrus served you Spaghetti. What's the use in stopping now?

[shoezuki]

No no no

I want a beauty and the beast story with canniblism and Sampard

I want more of your Sampard

GOD DAMNIT. i saw this ask n then got some stuff done but now i been thinking about this. its the cannibalism aspect that got me.

vague ideas i been thinking of. but where sampo is Technically the 'beauty'. but he's cursed too. sampo being a once well known thief who was cursed with obscurity, where as soon as he leaves peoples view everyone forgets about him entirely, he is only ever perceived if he has peoples' full attention on him.

initially thinking maybe jade cursed him with this, but then i got the funnier thought of sparkle doing it. where sparkle was his previous questionably human 'partner' and fellow thief, and when he dipped on her with the spoils after she tried to marry him she cursed him until someone would love him 'even though they see you for the piece of shit snake you are'.

but sampo? hes chilling. like ya ok losing his fame as a world renowned thief sucked and also that his home as brughel in epsilon was sold to someone else cuz everyone forgot she lived there and ya if he puts his things down too long and leaves people will take it from him, or also that he always has to mend his own wounds and cooks for himself and not to mention that one time he bought a room in a tavern only to be woken up by the grossly drunk and flirty couple that just bought his room. but its FINE. he uses it to his advantage, robbing people blind, swiping wares from stores when the shopkeepers back is turned, keeping to the peripherals of peoples vision until he wants to sell them on something and vanishing as soon as he scammed someone.

at some point he ends up travelling to Belobog. Im unsure what way id want this but one thing im thinking is that belobog has or had a mining town in the mountains overlooking it, with a massive fortress built by the founders of the town. It Had been abandoned, until years ago when a monstrous creature started attacking anyone that approached the mining town. Or at least just attacking and consuming anyone who approached the fortress, maybe leaving the mining town idk.

a 'curse' was placed on the mining town, creating a barrier that keeps any humans from entering or leaving. (but really, cocolia placed it) the two towns are kind of at a standstill, with cocolia offering a huge reward to anyone who can break the 'curse'. im thinking either a) belobog knows the mining town is still alive, as they trade minerals for food with the town through the barrier which is Heavily controlled by cocolia, or b) they assume the entire town has been eaten by the monster.

either way sampo doesnt give a shit about the cash reward, but the idea of an abandoned fortress is tantalizing monster be damned. he discovers that hes not just cursed to not be seen by people, but the 'curse' doesnt see him either. hes able to get into the mining town and the fortress, but trips up and somehow the monster is able to See him fully. Somehow this hulking thing is able to chase him down even when hes out of view, is hyperaware of him and starts to learn sampo's tricks every time he breaks into the fortress.

basically just. gepard, cursed by cocolia or something after she thought he was asking too many questions or something and she tried to use witchcraft to corrupt him into an thrall and under her complete control, but gepard's willpower causing it to fail and his protective nature becoming toxic and having him unthinkingly trying to protect the mining town and everyone from the dark magic cocolia was performing in the fortress. And sampo just.... being technically cursed but chill with it when he shouldnt be and constantly getting chased away by the beast.

and gepard eats people. very important