#this is just the sfw stuff

[ladyofrosefire]

Wyll and Karlach's Bucket List on Returning From Avernus

Bathe

Sleep in a real bed

Eat a meal that isn't a ration pack or something dubious taken from a cambion

Hug every single one of their friends

Visit Ulder

Check on the tieflings they met at the Grove

Go swimming

Go dancing

Find a house a little ways outside the city

Acquire a few goats

Make snow angels

Kiss a lot

And other things

Get a ring

Make a reservation at The Singing Lute

[shhtickerbook]

indoor playground!!!

[dkettchen]

I do enjoy dressing her entirely in canon outfits/cuts and the occasional top she's borrowed from nami and being like ye canon!sanji sure does own a pair of 3/4 pants with ballerina loafers he sure did wear that before with his whole cishet man ass and we didn't bat a single eye at it

[yourplayersaidwhat]

Ranger, attempting to catch a moth: can I roll dex to (fumbling words) crab- crap- grab the moth?

Rogue: roll to crap?? I don’t think crapping is a dex skill

Fighter (irl ibs warrior): i beg to differ

[ariesbutworse]

PRETTY BOY

[abuglikecreature]

they know eachother sooooo well 🩷

btw how am i supposed to draw bonemeal. the sprite is just a handful of bone bits

[bkd-b3ans]

Boothill keeps messing up his revolver from all the slapping and you have to fix it

Heya, love For Boothill too big, so I've started writing something for the first time. Sorry for any mistakes, literally never wrote a fanfic before.

Ship: Boothill x mechanic reader (gn, but possible masc leaning)

Warnings: none, it's just a bit of banter

Chapter(s?) : just one part of a long thing I want to do. I will accompany this with art too of my oc later down the line.

"Boothill, can you stay still for one moment?" You said, clear annoyance in your voice as you almost dropped the small pins you had to hold with a pair of tweezers inside the cowboys disassembled arm.

You were trying to fix his revolver, which so happened to get jammed again due to his recklessness in fighting. You've told him so many times to stop slapping it into place so aggressively, that the springs and pins inside it are going to get worn out faster or shifted out of their place, but those pleas always fell onto deaf ears.

"M'bad sugar, it just gets sooo boring stayn' still like this for so fudging long." He said, rolling his eyes and slumping back down in his chair, tapping the fingers of his other hand onto the arm rest.

He always had these tics of his when getting fixed, which, to a degree, you could understand. After all, sometimes his repairs could take a few minutes or entire days where he'd have to do nothing but stay in your workshop, connected to your many machines in order to ensure that everything is running optimally. By now, he came so often that you could confidently just run your business on his funds alone.

"It won't take that long this time-" you adjusted the magnifying glasses on your nose, tapping the edge to zoom in a bit more, your steady hand placing the tiny pin inside it's hole "Luckily it was just a few pins that got out of their place. Other than that, your body seems to function pretty well."

He heard that little sigh of relief you sometimes did when checking his systems. It was a bitch and a half to fix them, and you were about the only mechanic not affiliated with the IPC that he could trust not to install some weird virus into his body.

" Well, what can I say, lady luck still riddin' shotgun with me I reckon. Can't say the same 'bout those jolly good fellows from the IPC." he let out a prideful scoff tipping his hat "I reckon their faces look better now with a few bullets between their teeth.

You shook your head, already used to his rants about the IPC and his hunt for revenge. Whilst you could appreciate his enthusiasm, you had yet to pry into the issue as to why. Despite all the days and hours spent with him, working on his body and listening to his rants, you had yet to be told the reason for all of this.

"As long as it is their face and not yours. After all, you're my number one customer~" you have him a wink, sticking your tongue at him playfully. Boothill nearly laughed, trying to say something smart back, but he was cut short by you suddenly slapping the revolver back in it's place, giving it a few spins before closing the paneling around it

"All seems to work well now Boots. Again, please stop slapping this thing into place like it owes you money. Your body may be made out of quality stuff, but it's not immune to your own idiocy."

"Hah, as if, that thing works better with a little tough love"

He didn't even have to look at you to feel the knives you were starring at him from behind your glasses.

"Besides, if I were to be careful, what excuses would I have to come pay ye a visit from time to time? Eh, sugar?"

You hated that shit eating smirk he had on his face sometimes. You just knew he enjoyed teasing and annoying you. It was part of your friendship at this point.

"One day your recklessness will be your death"

Standing up, you went to disconnect him from the machines he was hooked up, pulling out the cables from his back one by one.

"Aww, do I sense some worry in yer tone, darling? I'm flattered a-"

He couldn't finish his sentence as you tugged on his hat, pulling it over his face. Boothill couldn't help but laugh.

"Fine fine, I'll stop. Fudge me you can be tough to love sometimes. How much do I owe ya?" he asked, finally being able to stand up and adjust his hat.

"40k, do you want to put this on your tab again or just pay upfront"

"Just put it on my tab darling, I'll pay it once I'm back from this assignment"

You sighed. He always picked that option, but he always paid eventually, so you weren't too worried. What worried you us where the money came from sometimes. But what can you do, money is money after all.

"Fine, I'll see you next time Boots. And hey, bring me something nice from your travels, I might give you a discount too"

"What do I look like? A magpie?" he scoffed.

"You look more like a shark, but sure. Anyway, counting on you, Boots"

You gave him a friendly pat on the back, the cowboy tipping his hat to you before leaving, making you wonder sometimes in what part of the galaxy he's going to end up to next time every time he left your workshop.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Me, Us, and You

Synopsis: You've been used one too many times, and find comfort in the arms of those you love.

Foul Legacy x Reader Pronouns: Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Comfort Warnings: Mentions of being used as an emotional outlet

~ * ~

“Hey… why do people like using me?” Foul Legacy looks up from the chunk of crystal he was batting around, tilting his head curiously. You catch his gaze, inquisitive and concerned, and sigh. “…Sorry. It’s nothing.” He frowns with a quiet trill. Not good- he’s seen this habit before, your way of pushing down your emotions, never speaking a word. Legacy shakes out his fur, rising to his feet and crossing the room before plopping down beside you, chittering in worry. His claws knead against the carpet, nudging and pushing up against you gingerly until you finally huff out a laugh and weakly shove him back. “…You get what I mean." He does. Far too well. He’s seen it happen, from behind a corner as Childe; idly twirling a coin between his fingers, walking up to meet you at your favorite restaurant, or merely happening to pass by on the street.

One, two, three. Then more. The number of times that you’ve been treated as a mere outlet. You’re too kind for your own good, too patient, too understanding. Why can’t you get angry? Why don’t you tell off the people who start using you as an object to vent their emotions to- or at least tell them no? Instead you just smile and nod, offer your advice even when you don’t know what to say since you don’t even know your own feelings and what they mean, but you try so, so hard to lift them up, help them feel strong, better, braver. And they do. They smile again, nod, laugh. Sometimes they take your advice, sometimes they just want someone to agree with them. Whatever the case, they leave lighter, and you leave with a new burden in your arms. It’s fine. You don’t mind carrying it for them, as long as they’re happier- you insist that it makes you happy if they are, too. But inside it still hurts, knowing you only exist when someone needs you to listen. When you need to fulfil a certain role or do something for someone.

They started getting used to it, too. Pulling you into conversations as innocently as a lamb only to pour forth a tidal sea of issues and frustration. They cry and rant and yell and scream and then pat you on the back with a smile with a see you soon and talk to you later. One even paused, looking at your tapping fingers, your focused expression, and told you to write things down. So you could remember them for later, if more things came up- we wouldn’t want you to forget, now would we? A pause, a strained smile, as you fished a notebook and pencil from your bag. It made dread coil in your chest, a heavy weight over your heart. That’s right. You only matter as long as you have use.

There’s a croon, and you blink, shaken from your daze. Foul Legacy stares down at you, crystalline eye wide and anguished. No. No, no, no- he hates that you think of yourself like that, as someone, something to be used. He crawls towards you, cupping your face in his claws and letting out a soft, saddened warble. His wings twitch and flutter, curling in your direction as if he wants nothing more than to cuddle you close and shield you from all the dreadful things in the world, because he does, his instincts scratching at his skull and hissing, biting, gnashing the source of your hurt, trying to vanquish it in battle and make it disappear. Protect. Heal. Love.

Legacy squeezes you a bit tighter, pressing your head against his lavender fluff, grown soft with how much you brush and fawn over it. You think he’s beautiful- you’ve told him before, time and time again. Beautiful, lovely, wonderful- why can’t you see how amazing you are, too? How much you help, how much you matter? Even if anyone else can’t see past their own nose, he knows how much you deserve to be showered with gratitude and affection. His gentle nuzzles shift and crackle lightly, turning to soft skin, scarred hands massaging your arms. Childe presses his forehead to yours, his despair on par with Foul Legacy’s, murmuring frantic words of reassurance filled with tears. Nothing, nothing, nothing. That’s all you ever call your feelings, your wants and needs. You’ve spent so long supporting others that you can’t even remember anything you desire, truly, nothing at all. He caresses your cheek, looking deep into your eyes with an oceanic gaze. Please, tell him something you want. Anything. Please. You shudder, and desperately reach your arms to him. Childe meets you halfway, wrapping you in a firm, tight hug and pressing his face against your shoulder.

He wants to give you everything, yet he knows what you need most is someone you can just exist with, not to help, not to complete a task for them, but just to be in their- his- presence. If you listen to his woes, ever, not even the Archons would be able to stop him from listening to yours, because you deserve it. Friendships go both ways, the world seems to have forgotten. Childe was your friend first, and he’s your friend now, and your love, your Harbinger, your sweet, monstrous Foul Legacy, and he adores you with every fiber of his being. Childe peppers kisses over your face, one hand human, the other armored talons, both him and his Abyssal half comforting you. Yes, they get what you mean. They get what you mean all too well, aching and weeping and watching you suffer again and again, wringing yourself dry for people who toss you away once their problems are solved.

But not with them. Never again with Childe and Legacy, forever by your side. You have no tears left to cry, but they still hush you, gently. Shh, shh… it’s alright. Everything will be okay. Childe sighs as he pulls away, tracing your features with a finger and holding back his own sobs, steadying his voice against his resentment towards the world for your treatment. “Talk to me. Talk to us. Please.” For us, we love you so.

[mrzombielover]

real price hours tn

NSFW warning! f!reader, porn no plot

“yeah, just like that… goood girl…” price groans as you take him fully, taking a large puff from the lit cigar he dangles. you whimper at his words, making him chuckle as he exhales smoke in your face.

“oh, you like that, huh?” he laughs, free hand running down your waist and coming to grab a fistful of your ass. “dirty girl…” you squeak as he slaps your ass.

you mewl when you start to move, letting out a shaky breath as you bounce agonizingly slow on his cock, still adjusting to the stretch. you throw your head back, a soft moan slipping past your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck, letting a hand run through his hair and grip at the roots. he chuckles again, rolling his hips into you, drinking in every whine and gasp and moan that you give him. he takes another puff of his cigar, hand trailing from your ass around to your hip to rub soft circles into your clit. you keen at that, head falling forward onto his shoulder.

"captain!" you whine.

"shh, shh, baby," price shushes you gently, softly connecting his lips to yours as he breaths smoke out his nose. he swallows your moans as you let them into his mouth, and you feel dizzy against him as you roll your hips, greedily chasing the electrifying pleasure. you quiver around him, reduced to a whimpering mess as you're stretched out around his fat cock. he's all you can focus on, everything else dissolving but his length inside you and the smell of his musk and cigar.

"so perfect for me," he mumbles against your flesh, placing kisses before softly biting your neck.

"captain..." you moan again, bouncing sloppier now, more desperately.

"please!" it's almost a sob. you don't exactly know what you're begging for, but the plead leaves your lips anyway like a last prayer. Price laughs dryly, letting his eyes slip shut and head fall back against the headboard.

"you're so pretty when you whine. poor baby, you cant do it alone?" he teases, rolling his hips against yours. you moan louder now, falling forward slightly as he starts to fuck up into you. your back is arching against him, barley processing his words.

"come on, sweet girl," he says softly in your ear, his thumb on your clit making you throb and squeeze on him, hands searching for something, anything to grip on to. "thaaat's it.. just needed my help, huh?" he says soothingly as you dig your nails into his back.

"oh, god!" you squeak, letting a strangled cry into his ear.

"fuck! I'm gonna-" you cut yourself off with a loud moan, all strength leaving your body as Price thrusts up, repeatedly abusing your g-spot. His fingers dig into your hip, other hand clenching his cigar so hard it nearly crumbles in his grip, but not a single part of your brain cares about that now. The orgasm hits you in shaky waves, reducing you to a throbbing, soaking, shaking mess as it washes over you.

"yeah, good girl," He says softly, pressing a kiss to your temple as his pace slows. He takes one last puff before haphazardly dropping his cigar into the ashtray on his bedside table, not even giving you a chance to catch your breath before he's fully lifting you up and flipping you onto your back.

"can you give me one more, baby?"

[story-book-sillies]

The “girl who grew up as a tomboy and liking “boy things” to trying to reclaim her femininity through her regression” pipeline is so real

[hahanamegobrrrr]

THINGS THAT WOULD BE VERY MEAN AND ILLEGAL TO DO TO ME…. a post filled with very rough tkl doodles

1. hugging me from behind so i am trapped and cannot get away……. VERY EVIL (bonus evil points if you are whispering/quietly teasing gently right into my ear 😵‍💫)

2. MAKING ME HOLD MY ARMS UP ALL BY MYSELF… and you’ll only tkl me if i keep my arms up… if i move them down you stop and don’t start again until i put them back…. it would be VERY EVIL AND MEAN if you did this >:(

3. if you are fully above me at all and/or pinning my arms….. THE EVILEST. especially if you then move my hands to be pinned under your knees…. so you can do whatever you want with both your hands… very rude (extra extra evil if you combine this with making me hold my own arms up instead. the most illegal combo weapon that could destroy the planet with its evil power)

CONCLUSION: all these scenarios are VERY EVIL and someone needs to I MEAN NO ONE BETTER try them on me, right now, please

reblogs are appreciated <3

[unexpectedbrickattack]

shenanigans

[thedemises]

. . . SAVE A HORSE, GO ON A RIDE WITH THE COWBOY! featuring boothill!

notes! . . . y'know the phrase, “save a horse, ride the cowboy”? well, I decided to-do something about it with boothill... except it's sfw and more like “save a horse, ride with the cowboy” cuz i dont do nsfw here >:/. god give me acceptance for how boothill is so ooc here- 😭😭 idnk how to write his character properly, and does he even have a horse?? I don't remember seeing a horse when his character and banner got leaked, so let's just pretend he does have one for the sake of K'hailreigh for this plot. 💀

imagine returning the horse boothill had been searching for all day after it got the chance to escape through the tall fences the moment they were opened, his eyes widen at the sight of his companion with you guiding alongside it. normally, his horse wouldn't follow after someone else's orders other than him... and it behaves pretty feisty and rough with people who isn't him.

boothill is relieved to see that his trusty horse hadn't been injured, briefly thanking you as he goes over to fuss over his stallion. you can't help your gaze wandering and examining his figure, in awe of the metallic and cyborg parts of the cowboy in front of you. sure you might've seen people having artificial and metal parts attached to them, but this man right here just plainly looks like a robot if it weren't for his humanly head.

boothill notices you eyeing every inch of him, glancing from the lasso that hangs at his hips to the pistols to his arms and to his legs. he glares a wolfishly smile at you, baring the shark-like teeth that you gaze in short surprise at, and asks in a teasingly tone, “like what you see, darlin'?”, observing how you blink owlishly at him. but then, he's becomes sort of surprised when you nod your head and confirm that—yes, you like his appearance and how the color scheme matches altogether, while indirectly  commenting how he's a good-looking cowboy.

boothill, after his turn of blinking at you, grins and narrows his eyes with an intrigued look in them; amused by you and how you don't seem in the slightest.. nervous or terrified in his presence. you perked the cyborg's interest.

finishing the small talk with the man, you mention that you'll be needing to go somewhere for an errand and boothill takes the opportunity to offer a ride there on his horse—as a thanks for retrieving his horse, taking in your surprised expression with a grin as he ends the sentence with a “darlin'”. he insists, even if you refuse, so you decide that it'll be quicker to go in a horse ride with the cowboy than rather walking by foot as you were given no other choice.

with boothill's assistance, you were boosted onto the horse and instructed by him to hold on as he looks back at you, flashing a toothy grin and a finger tilting his hat just slightly for a short moment before you and him rode off towards where you were needed to be at with his horse. startled by the increasing speed his horse was going, you instinctively grasp onto the cyborg cowboy's built body in order to not fall off during the ride accidentally—boothill grins at your expression, his laughter going with the wind, “better hol' on tight for now, sweetheart. this'll be a rough ride! i'll get ya to where yer headin' in no time!”

© thedemises 2024. all rights reserved. please do not repost, copy, or claim as your own. ━━  word count: 508.

[littl3d0ll-art]

Lamb in lolita fashion you’ll always be dear to me

[pancharts]

[sometimesthingsgowrongokayy]

-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-

That’s the last straw

lee!daisuke - ler!anya

some swearing, and also i have literally no idea how boardgames work, but dw about that its fiiine

this is a tickle fic, don’t like don’t read. also please dont harass me for mouthwashposting

-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-

That’s it. That’s the last fucking straw.

Anya is seething in her chair as she watches Daisuke roll a 6 and clear right through her, picking up his piece and smiling smugly as he glides it along the board, landing right on a skip-ahead space and jumping about twenty spaces forward.

He gives a little giggle. “Sooo, Anya, what’s your move?” He says, smugly as he leans against the back of the couch.

She’s never going to look at Candy Kingdom the same again. Her eye gives a twitch as she prays to everything she’s ever believed in- please, a six, please. Please. Please.

She rolls a three and lands on a penalty square.

Daisuke, sitting across from her, gives a tiny muffled snort. Her rage is amplified tenfold, glaring up at him with the might of a thousand suns. Oh, the things she’s going to do to this man.

Curly clears his throat, placing a gentle hand on Anya’s shoulder- she flinches at the contact, eyes snapping to him and forgetting to drop the glare. Now he’s the one to flinch, eyes flickering away as he pulls his hand back.

“Ahm.. Anya, do you- think we should take a break..? You seem to be getting a little.. Frustrated.” He says, smiling sheepishly as his eyes drift around the table. Her cards are much more scattered than his or even Daisuke’s, her usual clean organization thrown to the bin and replaced by her newfound mania.

Anya flashes a smile, cracking her fingers before responding. “Oh, no. Don’t mind me at all. This is fun! Crew bonding is always great for morale.”

Her tone isn’t quite as soft as it usually is, a hint of boiling rage laced into the undertones. She sits as polite as ever, eyes trained on Curly. He gives a gulp, but nods, playing along for the sake of his life. He’s anxious as his turn follows, and he rolls a meager four. Good. This is good.

Anya’s eyes fall on Daisuke, hands politely laid in her lap as her eyes bare into his very soul. He’s looking a little more anxious now, spinning the rings on his fingers as he realizes its his turn and hastily throws the dice. Another six.

Silence falls over the table as Anya takes a long breath, cutting through the air. She twitches again as Daisuke lets out another muffled snicker. He’s practically having to hold a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.

Her brow quirks up in a challenge, watching as the boy’s mouth wobbles and wavers into a smile, the chilling silence starting to weigh on him. It’s too funny. Plus the glare he’s getting from Anya- so rare, for her- isn’t exactly helping.

He can’t help himself, letting out a high-pitched giggle before clamping his mouth shut, just staring at Anya, eyes wide with curiosity and a bit of terror. Curly’s gaze flashes between the two, giving a gulp, and that’s what breaks the dam.

Daisuke falls into cackles, keeling forwards as he laughs, shoulders bouncing along. Curly has to suppress his own snicker- Daisuke’s laugh is rather contagious.

Anya takes a harsh breath, eye twitching once more as she watches Daisuke curled up in his own mirth. This little shit. She slowly stands up, glaring as she towers over the scene, and Daisuke’s laughter stops in its tracks as he realizes his impending doom.

Anya’s eyes fix right on the boy, and he gives a gulp as she just stares for what feels like an eternity.

“Y’know, Daisuke..” Her words cut through the air like a knife as she sits down next to him, with the danger of a mother quietly sitting down next to a troublemaking child.

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but it’s very impolite to laugh at someone when they’re struggling with something.” She says, and within a blink, Daisuke screeches out as Anya’s long nails suddenly latch to his sides and squeeze.

“Anya- anyaanyaanya- please, we cahan- we can talk about this!” Daisuke pleads, as Anya looms over him, hands poised against his sides. She gives a soft snicker in response, and without warning, drills into the boy’s sides- her nails digging into the soft meat and vibrating, pulling a loud guffaw from Daisuke before he falls into desperate, pitchy laughter.

“ANYA- nonOnah- NOHO- pleaseplease ihidiDN’t meanit i didn’tmeanit-“ He begs, words breaking and cracking between squeals and snorts, thrashing up against her hands which have now found his hips and are squeezing mercilessly.

“Curly, it’s your turn. Oh, and- move Daisuke’s piece for him, would you?” Anya says, completely ignoring Daisuke’s pleas. She throws a polite smile to Curly, even as her hands skitter up to Daisuke’s ribs. He gives a squeal in response, kicking out from under her and bucking desperately.

Curly blinks, a bit dumbfounded, before clearing his throat and doing as commanded. He quickly moves Daisuke’s piece six spots forwards before rolling the dice and landing a nice passive three. He gulps as he moves his piece.

“ANyahAHAH- ple- pleHEASE PLEASEPLEASEPLEASPLESPLSPL- PLEHEAASE- letmegoletmEGOpLEASEIT’sSOBAD-“ Daisuke spews, words jumbling together as he laughs. Anya snickers before drilling her hands into his hips once more, wrenching a high-pitched squeal from the boy. She speaks up once more.

“Oh, dear. Guess it’s my turn- Curly, be a dear and roll for me?” She says, nimble fingers not once stopping her quest in ripping Daisuke apart.

Curly silently complies in horror as he watches the scene, mindlessly moving Anya’s piece forwards and flinching as Daisuke gives another scream.

His mouth hangs open in a cackling grin, tears of mirth stinging his eyes as he bucks and squirms and turns this way and that, to no avail. Anya is shockingly strong, staying atop the poor boy as he thrashes and tries to desperately pry her off of himself.

He eventually gives up on trying to free himself, fist slamming against the couch cushions as Anya’s fingers slip into the spaces between his ribs, wiggling around and squeezing and doing other torturous things that really shouldn’t tickle as much as they do.

“AnnyaaAAHAHAH- PLEASE- pleheHEASEplease-“ He yelps, slowly losing energy as she just Does Not Let Up, giving a giggly whimper as her hands poke at his sides again.

“..Anya, um- I think he needs a break..” Curly speaks up through the cackles and squeaks, concerned as he can hear Daisuke’s breath beginning to shallow. Anya gives a dramatic sigh and removes her hands, met by a large gasp from Daisuke as he flops limply against the couch, eyes glossed over as he twitches- still vaguely processing All That.

“I suppose you’re right. I’ll let this be a lesson- I always win at boardgames. Now, Daisuke, it’s your turn-“ Her tone gains a malicious lilt with her next words, “-Why don’t you roll?”

Daisuke gives a weak whimper, still unable to curl up fully as Anya sits on his legs. He hugs his midsection and gives a small huffy giggle, mouth still pulled up at the corners. “Nnoohohooo..” He whines, hiccuping as he lays. He knows what his fate will be if he rolls good, and with his luck tonight? He’s absolutely terrified.

“Go on. Roll.” Anya says, softly for once, as she gives an encouraging poke to the boy’s side. He gives a squeaky giggle, whining as he reaches out for the dice and lets it tumble out of his hand, landing on the table and landing him a death sentence. He had rolled his third six in a row.

He gives a fearful whimper, eyes drifting up to Anya. The glare he met was one of nightmares, and he quickly reaches out to nudge the die- landing on a four, instead. He anxiously looks back up to Anya, sighing as he sees her nod. “Good choice. Anyways, Curly?” She says, finally getting up off Daisuke and walking back to her seat.

Daisuke immediately curls into a ball, huffing as he turns away from the table and buries his face in the cushions of the couch, twitching and hiccuping as he hugs his midriff. His body has a soft shake to it, weakened by the Attack.

“Oh, um- right, yes.” Curly stammers out, picking up the dice and rolling a five, cursing himself as he lands on a penalty square. Anya smiles and plucks the dice from the board, rolling and grinning as she lands the six that carries her onto the finishing square.

“Well then! Looks like I win.” She says, sighing and smiling triumphantly at the scene infront of her.

Daisuke, curled up on the couch and dead to the world. Curly, still glancing between the two with fear in his eyes. And the board, with Anya’s piece in the winning spot and the other two falling behind via sabotage.

Anya never loses a game of Candy Kingdom again.

-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-

BONUS SCENE THAT I CUT FROM THE MAIN FIC BUT I STILL THINK YALL SHOULD BE ABLE TO ENJOY:

Anya’s hands still don’t stop their ruthless quest, latching onto his upper thighs and mercilessly squeezing. Daisuke practically screams, legs thrashing as he again attempts to thrash out of her grip, twisting this way and that to no avail.

His words are lost to laughter as she continues, silently and deadly plucking him apart. It’s when she reaches his knees he gets desperate. One squeeze and he convulses, legs snapping upward in a ear-piercing squeal and a guffaw. She blinks, hands still poised above his knees.

“A-Anya, ahanya please, pleasedon’tdothis, I’ll do anything- plehease-“ The begs sputter past Daisuke’s lips with an accompaniment of giggles, hands tugging at his own hair as they had found their place there a few moments ago. He gives another high giggle as he fidgets, legs shaking and twitching as he squirms, eyes locked with Anya’s, already knowing his fate.

Then she grins, eyes narrowing devilishly, and Daisuke passes away on the spot. She gives a ruthless sequence of squeezes to that little spot right above his knees, latched on and not letting go even as he kicks and thrashes and screams. He howls, back arching from the couch and slamming back down as his fist desperately pounds against the cushions.

This continues, evilly, for about five more torturous seconds before Curly speaks up, torn out of his shocked daze at the snort that rips through the air. “Anya- Anya, I think he’s had enough.” He coughs, guiding her off of the poor boy and back to her chair.

She growls, still seething as she watches Daisuke immediately curl up on himself, letting out a pathetic whimper as he hugs his midsection. He’s still giggling weakly, face buried in his knees as he lays horizontal on the couch, rasping for air after the attack.

Okay, she feels a little better now that he’s been thoroughly wrecked. The table falls into another long silence, only interrupted by Daisuke’s weak panting and soft, quiet giggles. Anya smiles, satisfied, as Curly looks at her with a mildly horrified expression.

“Okay, I think that’s enough Candy Kingdom for one day.. D-Daisuke, why don’t you, uh- head to your quarters and.. Clean up a bit? I’ll take care of the- game.” Curly says even as he knows Daisuke probably won’t be able to move for another fifteen minutes, clearing his throat sheepishly. He starts gathering pieces into the game box. His eyes fall on Daisuke once more before they flicker to Anya, giving a gulp at the way she’s absolutely drinking up the image of Daisuke crumpled up on the couch with blush up to his ears.

-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-

OKAY I HOPE YALL ENJOYED THAT i rewrote this like fifteen times before i finally decided i’d just post it as-is. the bonus scene was one that was in the original version but i felt like it was too short and didnt know where to fit it in and askdhehdhdhJsh. i couldn’t deprive yall of it though, lower body ticklish daisuke is literally my lifeblood.

anywayyssssss hope yall have a good dayy <3 idk how to end these <3