#drone for content creators

[goodguygadgets]

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[em-bandaid-boy]

Hiiii thanks for 500 followerrrs!!! Idk why so many of you are here but thaanks 💖

(Seriously tho thank you its pretty cool) anyways I drew more murderous robots lol

[elizabeths-dumbassery]

The radio silence has been worrying, but I know to give the team time. I just wish we got an update on it, or some sort of status on the project.

Just some clarity after the episode has already been delayed a few months would be nice.

This isn't a call to harass the team, don't do that. This is me acknowledging the restlessness I've started to see me and others experience.

Hang in there gang o7

[mileymint]

What if I made a Dandy's World OC. What then huh

[anonoob]

LOOKING FOR CONTENT TO WATCH?

here are some underrated (in my opinion) media's I recommend!

Lackadaisy (Animated PILOT - Webcomic.) Lackadaisy has its own Animated PILOT on YouTube, and a Webcomic you can find on the official lackadaisy website! The series is about a webcomic set in Prohibition-era St. Louis, Missouri. It chronicles the events of a cast of anthropomorphic cats as they struggle to keep the titular speakeasy afloat.

Murder Drones (Animated series) Murder Drones has recently gained popularity, but is still a small project. You find it on youtube. On a post-apocalyptic exoplanet, worker drones struggle to survive by hiding from rogue robots called Murder Drones

Epithet Erased (Animated series - book) you can find the first 7 episode Animated on YouTube! Season 2, however, Is a book. based on the tabletop roleplay series Anime Campaign! With unique powers called epithets, and characters attempting to steal an amulet rumored to have the ability to take a person's epithet.

Lego Monkie Kid (Cartoon) The tale begins when an ordinary boy, Monkie Kid, finds Monkey King's legendary staff, and he becomes the chosen one. You can watch on PRIME VIDEO!

Recreyo (YouTube channel!) Oddly enough, I'm recommending a YouTube channel.. a Comedy podcast with a group of friends with trust issues are thrown into different chaotic scenarios where they have to survive by learning to trust each other.. or not.

I'm running out of ideas or media's so.. uh yeah guys you should watch those silly fnaf rps like Oddities or The Famous Films!!! There's more, but I don't know them all lol

Also the sun and moon show is pretty cool yeah

EDIT ; The amazing digital circus is a new media too! Though, the fandom has grown largely. It's a animated pilot on YouTube, under the GlitchProductions channel. (creators of murder drones)

EDIT ; Spooky Month! Halloween is one of everyone's favorites, and so is October! I'm sure you've all heard of this show, made by Sr. pelo. Every year, near Halloween, a new episode for this series released! Last year, it grew huge in popularity.

There obviously tons of smaller projects out there, and I totally recommend them! Make sure to support small creators!

EDIT 2;

Fizz back w/ another banger

Y'all have obviously heard of hazbin hotel and helluva boss (I think helluva boss currently is better, especially in it storyline.)

Ramshackle ! An animated pilot on YouTube and it's 1st episode!, with many other small contents (webtoon, merch, art)

(Not really a media, but a nice nostalgic moment for old time flamingo fans) rewatch Roblox myth videos! They're actually nice to go back and remember, Especially if you were around when the vids came out.

An anime for once! Madoka Magica is great, actually. It's a dark spin on the magical girl ordeal, and it's probably the only anime I really like.

Object shows. There's a LOT of these. Most popular; Inanimate insanity, BFDI. Best recommendations; ONE (hfjcheesy), love of the s*n

Robloc area ; Regretevator, Evade, etc are lowkey fun games with good fandoms (sometimes)

EDDSWORLD OH My God please watch eddsworld it's made by this dude named Edd Gould and it's awesome

Indigo Park. Play it. It's so fucking cool/gen

Kinitopet, nice ai spin game!

Class of 2009 is epic and funny (also has triggering topics tho)

Musicals! It's nice to find new and different musicals!

Horror! +Favs ; Mandela catalogue, the walten files (there's more but it's been a bit)

Dead end, cold front, etc! The creator has amazing games :3

I had more but. Forgot oops

[lpsgirl109]

I know very little about the murder drones panic au but I do think you guys are slowly turning it into the underlust of the murder drones fandom the way yall don't know how to go "gross! Anyway not my business"

[mint-is-here]

hey guyss,,,, if i did a like.. murder drones lmk au would you guys like. be fine iwth it??? pls i need confirmation

[erinartemis]

Funny little doodles I did instead of math

I'll probably post more actual art on here once I get the motivation-

[lielasworldprojects]

Friendly reminder to check out my Can you feel it meme on Youtube @lielasworldanimation

#YouTube #content #comics #murderdrones #comics #art #digitalart #tadcfanart #tadcjax

[littlewolf-4]

Hello hello !! I hope you are well... I take this opportunity and public to introduce myself to the community of this beautiful application to say some details about me

-_ I love drawing and also making animations and they are one of my favorite hobbies. Clearly I don't have inspiration most of the time but when inspiration comes to me it is to stay a little :3

-_ I also like writing and designing characters so much that today I started writing a series and designing the protagonists, then I will write the story, when everything is in order, look for little people That you are willing to give life to the characters of the series, but I will comment on that another time, I still haven't decided.

-_ On the subject of animals I want to say that I love dogs, cats and foxes, they are truly beautiful, nature is also beautiful in its own way and appreciating it is one of my passions.

-_ My favorite series are 4 which would be murder drones, Fundamental paper education (F.D.P), hunter x hunter and one piece and I always watch them and make drawings or small animations of them

-_I am 13 years old and I am of Mexican nationality, a person who loves two states of his beautiful country which are Chiapas and Baja California The food, everything there is perfect, I loved it and I still love it, just like the famous Chihuahua dog, they are my eternal favorites>:3

That was all, I just didn't want to look like a strange ramdom among this community, so I left you so you can continue on your way, drink water so you don't get dehydrated, goodbyeeeee.

(Photo to not die ignored)

[ctne]

Mastering Drone Videography for Campsite Content Creators

Drones have revolutionized outdoor filming, offering a new perspective on the beauty of campsites. This post delves into the essentials of drone videography for campsite content creators, from selecting the right drone to capturing stunning aerial footage that enchants viewers. Read our Mastering Drone Videography for Campsite Content Creators article and learn more.

[vibelladonna]

❛ 𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓈𝒽 ❜ 𝜗𝜚 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒 𝓍 𝑔𝓃!𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: After a rainy rescue mission gone wrong (or right, depending on how you look at it), you and Crowe end up back at your cozy apartment—with a tiny, soaked kitten now claiming your couch. As the night settles in, horror movies roll, stolen glances linger, and the warmth between you two starts feeling a little too familiar.

Will Crowe finally drop his walls and let you in...

...or is he just gonna keep pretending there’s nothing there?

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's (@fantasia-kitt) intentions.

Spoilers From Day 1 and Day 2--(More like Inspo lines)

𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓈: jericho x afab! reader, friends to lovers?? Gender Neutral! Reader, Cuddling, Pillow talk, Fluff, then Smut, Making out, Heavy Touching, Neck kisses, dry-humping, moaning, praise (receiving and giving), Some hair pulling, and oral sex (giving).

The rain fell in relentless sheets, hammering against the pavement and turning the city into a glittering mosaic of slick streets and refracted light.

You and Crowe barely made it back to your apartment, soaked to the bone, arms laden with grocery bags. Crowe cradled something against his chest—a tiny, drenched kitten trembling within the warmth of his vest.  

“Here,” he said, his deep voice resonating with a softness that caught you off guard. There was a tender urgency in his tone as he carefully shifted the kitten into your hands. “This little one needs warmth.”  

You nodded without hesitation, setting the groceries down with a thud and immediately rifling through your closet. Old t-shirts, a scarf you hadn’t worn in years—it all piled into a makeshift nest inside an empty shoebox.

As you worked, Crowe watched in quiet approval, his tall frame silhouetted in the warm light of your apartment.  

The kitten let out a faint meow, curling into the soft fabric as though it had found sanctuary. Crowe crouched beside the box, his dark brown hair still damp and half-undone from the rain. Strands clung stubbornly to his sharp jawline, which he brushed aside with a graceful flick of his fingers.  

“You’re soaked,” you said, gesturing toward his clinging black button-up, which outlined his broad shoulders and hinted at the strong, lean frame beneath.

“Go shower before you catch a cold.” He hesitated, his deep blue eyes flicking to yours, searching for something unspoken. Then, with a small nod, he rose and disappeared toward the bathroom.  

When it was finally your turn, the hot water felt like heaven on your chilled skin. Steam wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, but it did little to chase away the vivid image of Crowe���his quiet care for the kitten, the rain tracing the contours of his face, the almost regal grace in his movements. He was magnetic, the kind of person you couldn’t ignore, no matter how much you tried.  

When you emerged, bundled in an oversized hoodie and fleece shorts, Crowe was already seated on your couch. He’d traded his drenched clothes for a gray sweatshirt and sweatpants you’d lent him.

The casual attire softened his presence in a way that caught you off guard. His long hair, now untied and damp, framed his face with unintentional elegance, every strand catching the glow of the lamp behind him.  

The plan was to watch a movie—something simple, a classic slasher with predictable jump scares. But your attention refused to cooperate. As the ominous soundtrack droned on, your eyes kept drifting to him.

His profile was serene, his gaze distant yet intensely thoughtful. He shifted slightly, and you became acutely aware of the small space between you.  

“Hey,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was low, and intimate, as if the question wasn’t meant to be shared with the world. “If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?”  

You blinked, startled by the question and the way his attention focused solely on you. “Another one of your trivia questions, Crowe?” you teased, trying to mask the nervous flutter in your chest. Stretching your arms casually, you laughed lightly, but he didn’t respond in kind.  

Instead, he leaned closer, the air between you charged with something unspoken. His breath brushed your cheek, sending an involuntary shiver through you.  

“Wh-why don’t you answer first?” you stammered, the words barely audible.  

He chuckled a low, warm sound that made your skin prickle. Then, to your surprise, he rested his head on your shoulder, the weight of him both grounding and electrifying. Before you could muster a response, he buried his face in the crook of your neck. Your breath hitched, and you prayed he couldn’t hear the erratic drumming of your heart.  

“Dodging the question, huh?” he murmured, his voice tinged with amusement but carrying an undercurrent of something more profound.  

“Well…” He paused as if searching for the right words.

“If I could have anything in this world… I’d want more time. More time to be with you. More time to spend like this.” His voice softened, tinged with a vulnerability that caught you off guard.

“Kind of selfish, huh?”  His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, and your chest tightened at the sight. His gaze was downcast, his usual confidence replaced by something raw and unguarded. Though he smiled faintly, it didn’t reach his eyes.  

At that moment, you didn’t know whether he was speaking to you or himself, but the desperation in his expression was unmistakable. And it left you breathless.  

“You’re staring,” Crowe murmured, his lips curving into a faint, teasing smirk. Your cheeks burned, the heat spreading up your neck as you realized how obvious you’d been. “Your hair’s long,” You blurted out, instantly regretting the flat, unpolished observation. Your hands fidgeted in your lap, betraying the nervousness.  

Crowe raised a brow, his fingers lazily trailing up to brush through the loose strands grazing his collarbone. The motion was unhurried, almost calculated. “Is that a bad thing?” he asked, his tone carrying a hint of curiosity but mostly playful provocation.  

“No! No, it’s…” You stumbled over your words, your voice dropping to a softer register as your gaze lingered on his hair, the rich brown strands catching the light. “It’s nice,” They finally said, the admission almost shy.  

Crowe chuckled, a low, velvety sound that sent a flutter through your chest. “Just nice, huh?” he said, his amusement laced with challenge. His gaze swept over your face, reading your every reaction as if it were a game he’d already mastered. “Not beautiful? Stunning? Majestic like a warrior’s mane after a victorious battle?”  

You rolled your eyes, trying to play off the embarrassment. “I wouldn’t go that far…” You mumbled, your voice barely audible as they looked away.  

He laughed again, the sound brighter this time, the sight of his smile drawing your attention back to him. You were captivated, the world narrowing to just Crowe at that moment. His movements were subtle but deliberate as he leaned closer, the distance between them shrinking.

His voice dipped to a low murmur that sent a shiver racing down your spine. “But what if I said I want you to go that far?”  

As he spoke, his hand moved, fingers brushing just barely against the edge of yours where they rested in your lap. The contact was featherlight, yet it sparked like static electricity, sending a straight jolt. You froze, your breath hitching, the heat in your cheeks now rivaling the pounding in your chest. Crowe’s eyes, gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, locked onto yours.  

“Can I…?” Your voice wavered, your hand hovering uncertainly in the air between them.  

Crowe tilted his head slightly, his intrigue evident in the slow curl of his lips. “What is it you want to do, hm?” he asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper. His steady gaze never left yours, his stillness almost daring you to close the distance.  

You hesitated, your hand trembling as it lingered in the space between them. Your heart raced, your breathing shallow as they searched his face for any sign of hesitation. Instead, his expression softened, and with a slow, almost imperceptible nod, he gave his silent permission.  

Your fingertips brushed against his hair, hesitant at first. The strands were softer than they’d imagined, slipping between your fingers like silk. You exhaled a shaky breath they hadn’t realized they’d been holding. “I just… wanted to feel it,” they murmured, your voice a quiet admission.  

Crowe’s eyes closed briefly as if savoring the light touch. A subtle shiver ran through him, but the smile tugging at his lips was unmistakable. When he opened his eyes again, they were locked onto yours, their intensity making your pulse quicken. "Satisfied?" he asked softly, though the teasing glint in his eyes suggested he already knew the answer.  

"Is it as majestic as I described it?" Crowe’s voice carried a blend of playful mischief and genuine curiosity, his dark eyes twinkling as he watched you.  

Your hand continued its gentle motion, fingers gliding through the soft strands of his hair, your touch almost reverent.

The faint blush creeping across your cheeks betrayed you otherwise calm demeanor. You tried to focus on the rhythmic motion of your hand, but the sensation—his hair softer than you’d expected—was strangely grounding and intoxicating all at once.  

Your breath hitched as you felt the weight of his gaze on you, an intensity that seemed to see more than you were ready to reveal. Still, his playful tone softened the tension, coaxing you to respond. "It’s... softer than I expected," You admitted, your voice barely louder than the whisper of the rain against the windows.  

Crowe’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. "Smoother, you say?" he repeated, his voice dropping to a sultry murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. He leaned in, ever so slightly, his breath ghosting across your cheek.  

"Just how soft did you expect it to be, hm?" Your heart stuttered; senses heightened, catching the faintest details—the warmth radiating from him, the subtle scent of his cologne—close to blueberries mixed with something uniquely Crowe.  

Your fingers trembled as they brushed the strands of his hair framing his face, the silky texture tantalizing against your skin. Crowe’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, savoring your touch. "Does it bother you to keep it this long?" You ventured, voice tentative, almost fragile in the intimacy of the moment.  

He opened his eyes, meeting yours with a softness "No," he murmured. "But sometimes... it gets in the way while I’m running errands around the building.”  

You felt the corners of your lips curve slightly, a tiny, conspiratorial smile. "You always be working and take care of everyone else… even me.” You mentioned, your voice quiet yet firm. "Let someone take care of you for once."  

Your words seemed to catch him off guard. His gaze darkened—not with anger but with a vulnerability so raw it made his breath hitch. Slowly, his hand reached up, fingers roughened by life’s demands, brushing against your cheek with a tenderness they hadn’t expected.  

"I’m not used to that," he admitted, the words heavy with unspoken meaning. His eyes searched yours, as though seeking assurance. "I don’t... usually let myself be taken care of."  

The weight of his confession settled between them. You found yourself unable to look away. Your free hand came to rest on his shoulder, the fabric of his shirt soft beneath your fingers. You traced idle patterns there, feeling the heat of his skin just beneath the surface, grounding yourself in his presence.  

"Why not?" You asked softly, your voice like a gentle breeze coaxing the truth from him.  

Crowe’s gaze flickered down, watching the slow, deliberate movements of your fingers as though they held answers he didn’t yet have. He hesitated, his brows furrowing slightly in thought. "I’m... not sure," he confessed, his tone contemplative. "I guess I’ve always been the one to look after others. It’s just what I know."  

His honesty hung between them like an unspoken promise, and for a moment, time seemed to pause. You let the silence stretch, your hand still tracing circles on his shoulder. Slowly, deliberately, you leaned in just enough for your forehead to graze his, your voice a whisper that barely bridged the gap.  

"Then maybe it’s time you let someone teach you."  

Crowe’s eyes flicked back to yours, locking onto your gaze. There was a flicker of surprise and uncertainty in his expression as if the very idea of someone wanting to take care of him, let alone you, was an entirely foreign concept. And yet, it carried a strange allure, something that stirred deep within him. He didn’t speak at first, his silence hanging between them like an unspoken question. 

Finally, he gave a small, tentative nod.  

“You… want to?” he asked, his voice tinged with both wonder and disbelief. His brow furrowed, his cheeks warming with an unmistakable blush. “You’d want to… take care of me?” His voice softened further, almost shy. “Like how? What… what are you gonna do?”  

You tilted your head, lips curving into a soft, knowing smile. His earnestness, the vulnerability in his question, made your heartache most sweetly. You let the moment linger, the air thick with unspoken emotions, as if to let him absorb the gravity of his trust in you.  

Your hand, which had been resting lightly on his shoulder, began to move in slow, deliberate strokes. Your fingertips brushed across the fabric of his shirt before traveling to the base of his neck, where they lingered, tracing slow, deliberate circles against his skin. The heat of your touch sent a shiver down his spine, his breath catching in his throat as his body instinctively leaned into the sensation.  

“How about…” You murmured, your voice was soft and soothing, almost like a lullaby. “…you let me decide that?”  

Crowe swallowed hard, his mind racing with a mixture of apprehension and intrigue. The thought of relinquishing control was daunting, almost terrifying. And yet, the softness in your voice, the gentleness of your touch, coaxed something in him to let go. He hesitated only for a moment before nodding again, this time with a hint of more certainty.  

“All right,” he said quietly, his voice laced with surrender. “I… I’ll let you decide.”  

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, at the quiet admission that he was willing to trust you in a way that seemed so out of character for him. Crowe, the ever-composed, always-in-control student council leader, allowing himself to be cared for—it was a rare, precious moment.  

You adjusted your position slightly, your movements are fluid and intentional. Your hand on his neck urged him to lean back against the couch as you shifted closer. “Relax,” You whispered, encouraging yet firm. Your other hand came up to gently push him back, just enough for him to rest more comfortably.  

His eyes darted to yours, seeking reassurance, before he finally allowed himself to recline. His shoulders sagged slightly as the tension began to flow away. You shifted beside him, your thigh brushing against his as they leaned in closer, your presence grounding him.  

“Close your eyes,” You instructed.

He obeyed, his lashes fluttering shut. The world around him faded into darkness, leaving only the sensation of your touch and the faint rustle of fabric as you adjusted yourself once more. Your fingers continued their soothing motion at the nape of his neck, and he felt your legs shift as you moved deliberately.  

Before he could fully register the change, your thigh slid over his lap, your weight settling as you straddled him. The closeness, the intimacy of your position, sent a rush of warmth flooding through him. He inhaled sharply, his hands instinctively moving to rest at your sides, though his touch remained hesitant, unsure.  

You leaned in, breath warm against his cheek, lips hovering just near his ear. “Just let me take care of you,” You murmured, your voice low and soft, a seductive blend of promise and reassurance.  

Crowe exhaled shakily, his body betraying his need to resist, yet failing. He could feel himself yielding, the last threads of hesitation unraveling in your presence.  

Your lips brushed against his ear, a fleeting caress that sent shivers cascading down his spine. You shifted, pressing your body closer as you straddled him fully, their closeness intoxicating. He could feel your heat, your heartbeat steady against his, as you moved with deliberate intention. Your fingers trailed gently along his jawline, your touch light as air but carrying an electrifying weight.  

"Let go," You whispered again. 

Crowe’s hands, which had been gripping your sides in an instinctive bid for control, faltered. They trembled slightly before slipping away entirely, falling to rest in his lap as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensations they was awakening. “I…” he began, his voice thick and strained, but the words caught in his throat.  

“Please?” You asked, tilting your head as your lips found the curve of his neck. You pressed the faintest kiss there, your warm breath fanning across his skin. Slowly, deliberately, you began your descent, lips tracing the line of his neck with tender persistence. You paused just long enough to let him feel every lingering kiss, every fleeting brush of your mouth, before moving lower.  

The tension in his body craved and flowed with every touch. He tensed as your lips found the hollow at the base of his neck, then relaxed again as they pressed a kiss just above his collarbone. You smiled against his skin, sensing the shiver that coursed through him.  

Your hands moved in tandem with your lips, sliding from his jaw to the nape of his neck, your fingers threading gently through his hair. “Just feel,” They murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as they continued your path, leaving a trail of soft, heated kisses along his chest.  

Crowe’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with your movements. Every kiss, every touch, seemed to peel away another layer of his guarded composure, leaving him bare and vulnerable before you. He closed his eyes tightly, surrendering completely to the unfamiliar yet exhilarating flood of sensations.  

You paused for a moment, lips hovering just over his sternum. You looked up at him, a soft hum of satisfaction escaping as you took in his expression—the furrow of his brows, the slight parting of his lips, the way his head tilted back just slightly. He was yours at this moment, completely and utterly.

"You’re doing so well," You whispered against his skin, pressing another kiss to his chest. "Just keep letting go." 

His fingers curled into the fabric of his sweatpants, knuckles whitening with the force of his grip. It was the only anchor he could find as he surrendered to the sensations flooding him, a steady burn that spread through his chest and pooled in his lower stomach. His breaths came in shallow bursts, and his body quaked under the unfamiliar weight of letting go, of yielding control.

Every nerve was alive, hyper-attuned to your touch, and the soothing cadence of your voice was like a salve for the storm within him.  

He clenched his jaw, trying to steady himself. When your lips brushed the hollow of his throat, a tremor passed through him, sharp and undeniable. His hand twitched, releasing its grip on his sweatpants, fingers ghosting over the edge of your shoulder as if seeking permission to hold onto yours instead. He swallowed hard, his throat dry, and finally managed to whisper your name.  

“Please…” His voice cracked, barely audible, but the sound carried a rawness that struck you. “…Wait a sec.” You paused, lips hovering just above his skin, breath warm against his neck.

A flicker of something gentle crossed your expression as you sensed the vulnerability emanating from him—the way his chest heaved, the fine tremor in his frame, and the palpable tension that coiled beneath your touch.  

"Yes...?" You murmured, tilting your head slightly to catch his gaze. Your eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and playfulness. He inhaled shakily, trying to form the words. His heart pounded against his ribs as though it sought an escape. "I can't…" he started, his voice rough, words tumbling out before he could stop them. "We can't… everything feels… intense."  

Your lips curved into a soft smile, a hand coming to rest over his chest, where his heartbeat thundered against your palm. "I know," They said, your voice like a quiet melody. Your lips brushed the pulse point in his neck, featherlight and deliberate. "It's a lot, isn't it? But you’re doing so well."  

He stiffened beneath you, his hands finally rising to hold your arms, steadying you but also grounding himself. "That’s not my point," he rasped, voice breaking slightly. He pulled back just enough to see your face. "I have loved you since the day I met you. I need to know how you feel—before we…" His breath caught, his gaze searching yours. "Before we go any further. I don’t want this to be… casual."  

The air between them shifted, heavy with unspoken emotions. You froze, his confession ringing in your ears. For a heartbeat, you didn’t move, your thoughts whirling. But then, warmth spread through your chest, melting the tension that had momentarily gripped you. Slowly, your hands rose to cradle his face, thumbs brushing gently against his cheekbones.  

"I…" You began, voice soft but trembling. "I feel the same. I have for so long, but I was scared. Scared to lose you, scared to ruin this… us."  

Relief washed over him, his hands falling to your waist as he let your words settle. He closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling slowly. "I never wanted to risk us either," he admitted. "But I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I couldn’t keep pretending."  

Your lips parted, a shaky laugh escaping as you leaned your forehead against his. "No wonder you kept finding excuses to spend more time with me," You teased, your voice low, tinged with affection. Your fingers trailed down to rest on his chest, "You can be selfish with me, Crowe. I’m yours, you know that. I’ve always been yours."  

His lips curled into a tender smile, the vulnerability in your voice and the weight of your words filling him with a kind of courage he hadn’t known he possessed. He tightened his hold on you slightly as if afraid you might vanish if he didn’t. "I’m yours too," he murmured, his voice a quiet promise. "And I don’t just want time with you. I want everything. All of you."  

Your breath hitched as his thumb traced along your jawline, his touch delicate yet firm, leaving trails of warmth. His other hand slid from your waist to your back, holding you securely. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze locked onto yours.  

"May I?" he asked, his voice low, almost reverent.  

You felt the question in your core, chest tightening and loosening all at once. Your body leaned into him instinctively, every fiber of you being answering before your voice could. When you finally spoke, words were a whisper against his lips. "Yes. Please."  

Crowe moved slowly, his lips brushing against yours with a softness that belied the intensity coursing through him. The kiss deepened naturally, a shared hunger and longing driving them closer. Your hands tangled in his hair, your body pressing against his.

Crowe’s lips were soft but insistent, moving against yours with a purpose that left no room for doubt. His hand on your waist tightened, drawing you closer until the inner part of your thighs brushed against his lower abdomen. The heat of his body was a sharp contrast to the cool dampness still clinging to the air. 

Your fingers, still tangled in his hair, instinctively tugged, earning a low, almost inaudible groan from him. The sound sent a shiver through you, making your heart race even faster. Encouraged, you deepened the kiss, your lips parting slightly to invite him in. His response was immediate, a soft flick of his tongue against yours that left you dizzy.  

Crowe pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his own. His breaths are heavy, matching yours, and you beheld his red face and hair messier than before. His eyes, those piercing deep blue eyes, searched yours for any hesitation.  

“Am I going too fast?” he asked, his voice husky and lower than usual.  

You shook your head, barely able to form words. “No… it’s perfect.”   

At that, his lips quirked into a small smile—rare and heart-stopping. “Is this a dream? I hope not. If I’m in a dream, please tell the sleeping me to never wake up. I want to live in this dream forever.” His free hand slid to the small of your back, guiding you effortlessly deeper into his lap. The movement was fluid like he’d imagined this a hundred times before.

“Will this convince you it’s not a dream?” You lean closer to his face and place a peck on his cheek. “Mmm.. maybe. But I think this would convince me.” He captures your lips swiftly. He pries your mouth open by pushing in his tongue, exploring you further, and muffing your moans with his intense kiss. 

You gasp, now feeling one hand slip beneath your hoodie, splaying across the bare skin of your lower back. The other tangled in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss further. His lips left yours briefly, trailing along your jaw and down the column of your neck to nibble at the soft flesh. 

“Now people will… know you’re mine.” You gasped when his teeth grazed a particularly sensitive spot, and he chuckled softly against your skin. “You sound so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction.

Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath the soft fabric of his shirt. The rhythm of his heart beneath your palm was as erratic as your own, a reassuring sign that he wasn’t as composed as he seemed. 

“Crowe,” you whispered, barely able to hear your voice over the pounding in your ears. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze again, his expression raw and unguarded.

“Please say my real name,” he murmured, his tone almost pleading.  

“Jericho,” you corrected, savoring the way his name felt on your lips. He let out a shaky exhale, his hands tightening their grip on you. His lips found yours again, this time rougher, more desperate.

His hips shifted beneath you, and the friction drew a soft moan from your throat. “Do you have any idea,” he breathed between kisses, “how long I’ve wanted this?”  

The heat between them was undeniable, the air practically crackling with energy. Every touch and every movement seemed to amplify the heady rush of desire rushing through their veins.

When his hips rocked against your own, another soft gasp escaped your lips, the friction so new, so sweet. Jericho presses himself against you, feeling the bulge within the confinements of his pants.

You gripped his shoulders tighter, steadying yourself as your thoughts became hazy with each press of his lips to your skin, proceeding to attack your neck with nibbles, determined to leave multiple marks instead of one. 

Your voice, already breathless, managed a shaky reply, "No, but I... I'm sure it's half as long as I've wanted you." Suddenly, he pulled you closer, his hips rocking gently against yours in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Each movement brought a gasp or a groan to your lips, the friction between you growing more heated with every second. 

“Please let me make you wonderful,” Jericho murmured against your neck, his voice low and soft… all of it was a delicious yet torturous sensory overload.

And at his murmured plea, your breath caught in your throat, snapping your consciousness back. Your fingers tightened on his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Jericho," They managed your voice a ragged breath. “I’m the one supposed to make you feel good.”

Jericho pulled back slightly, enough to meet your gaze, "You... already make me feel good," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "Just being here with you... it makes me feel more alive than anything else." His eyes filled with love, desire, and lust. “Would you let me?” He begged, “I promise to make you feel great. I want you to feel amazing.”

His words were spoken with such sincere conviction and lust. The raw honesty in them, the way he looked at you… You couldn't help yours; your fingers left his shoulders to gently cup his face. “I don't just mean at this moment," They said softly, your thumb brushing over his cheek. "I mean... I want to make you feel good in every way possible. I want..."  

You faltered, unsure how much you dared to say aloud. Instead, you shifted, sliding off his lap and onto your knees before him. The movement was fluid yet intentional, your gaze never leaving his as you knelt at his feet, 

Jericho swallowed, his breath catching in his throat as he took in the sight of you at his feet. It was a sight he had never imagined before, yet now it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. "What... what are you doing?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

You could see the surprise, the hint of confusion mixed with a heady sort of excitement in his eyes as they knelt before him. The position was submissive, yes, but it gave you a unique sort of control over the situation.  

Your hands, now free, rose to rest on his thighs, your fingers tracing small circles on the inner fabric of his sweatpants. Your voice was soft and firm 

"I'm taking care of you," They said quietly. "So just... lean back and relax." Your hand slithers to the base of his sweatpants.

Jericho let out a low, shaky breath as your fingers brushed his skin, the fleeting touch electrifying. Shivers coursed up his spine, and he bit down on a gasp, his eyes dark with a mixture of lust and anticipation. “Have you ever done this before?” he asked softly, his hands hesitating for a moment before helping you slide his sweatpants and boxers down in one smooth motion.  

You hesitated, your cheeks warming under his gaze. “No… Is that a bad thing?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.  

He shook his head immediately, his lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. “No, it’s not a bad thing,” he said, his tone gentle yet weighted with emotion. “If anything… it makes it all the more special.” But then his expression shifted, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face. He looked at you almost apologetically. “I’m sorry about this.”  

You tilted your head in confusion. “Hm? About what?”  

The moment the fabric pooled at his feet, the answer became crystal clear. Vulnerability washed over Jericho as he leaned back slightly, his chest rising and falling with steady, deep breaths. Your eyes widened in surprise, freezing as they landed on the sight before you.  

He cleared his throat, a hint of self-consciousness in his tone. “Uh… it gets a little bigger when I’m fully hard. Just thought I’d warn you.” His cheeks flushed a light pink, a rare vulnerability breaking through his usually composed demeanor.  

For a brief moment, you were speechless, caught between awe and disbelief. The sheer size of him was… impressive, to say the least. You swallowed hard, the dryness in your throat suddenly impossible to ignore. A nervous laugh almost bubbled up, but it was stifled by the intensity of the moment.  

“I… see,” you managed to say, your voice soft but tinged with a teasing edge. Your lips twitched into a small smirk. “A little bit bigger, huh? I’m curious to see just how much more it grows.”  

Jericho chuckled lightly at your words, his nervousness easing ever so slightly. Still, he reached out, his hand brushing your arm as if to steady both of you. “Take your time,” he said gently, his voice a soothing balm to your nervous energy. “Ease into it. And, uh… it’s okay if your teeth touch, just—maybe try not to bite down?”  

A laugh escaped you this time, a blend of amusement and nerves. “I’ll do my best to keep my jaws in check,” you teased, the shy undertone in your voice making the moment feel strangely intimate.  

Your fingers trembled slightly as you reached out, your touch tentative but curious. The warmth of him against your palm was startling, the weight and solidity grounding you. Your grip adjusted instinctively, firm but careful, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Jericho.  

“Let me know if I hurt you,” you murmured, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.  

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gave a quick nod. “You won’t,” he assured you, his voice rough with restraint.  

You glanced up, meeting his gaze. There was something intoxicating in the way his eyes burned with trust and desire. Leaning forward, you let your lips brush against the sensitive tip of his cock, soft and deliberate.  

A low, guttural moan escaped him, his head falling back against the bed. His hands clenched at his sides, resisting the urge to move and disrupt your rhythm. “Gods,” he muttered, his voice breaking.  

Encouraged by his reaction, you placed a series of soft kisses along the reddened head, your movements exploratory yet tender. Jericho’s breaths grew heavier, his chest rising and falling with each passing second. He forced himself to remain still, his muscles tensing as he let you set the pace, his desire to guide overshadowed by his determination to let you take your time.  

Your lips curled into a small smile as you continued, the moment feeling raw and unfiltered. Slowly, the tension began to melt away, replaced by a shared sense of trust and discovery.  

Jericho sighed when they took his lenght in your mouth. It’s already bigger than when he first pulled it out, quickly growing hard despite his reluctance to hold back. You feel it press in past your lips, dragging across your tongue, and finally hit the back of your throat. That’s it. That’s as far as it goes, right?

Looking forward, you can see that he’s not in your mouth. “Try to relax your throat,” he tells you. “That’s it, you’re doing good.” Jericho prasied. His voice sends goosebumps across your skin as his massive cock slides even further in, going partially down your throat. 

“Make sure to breathe through your nose,” he added. 

Your hands are on his thighs, gripping the fabric of his pants. You’re gagging slightly, trying to keep it under control and focus on breathing. After what feels like forever, your jaw is sore, and your throat aches.

Tears fill your eyes, which Jericho notices and looks at you guiltily before moving one large hand over to gently rub the top of your head. “Good girl,” he says, “you’re taking me well.”

The statement makes heat spread over your face. Then you remember that you’re supposed to be making him cum. The thought of it makes you excited somehow. You feel the urge to pleasure him, to make him feel good. He’s been so sweet to you, after all. He hasn’t moved at all, letting you do things at your own pace. Looking up at his face, it’s clearer than ever how gorgeous he is. 

You tighten your lips around his base, your tongue gliding across the underside of his cock while your tight throat constricts around his tip. He looks down at you suddenly, deep blue eyes slightly widened. You give him a tentative swirl of your tongue.

He can’t tear his eyes away as he watches you work your magic on him. The sight of you, the feel of your tongue, it’s the most incredible and overwhelming thing he’s ever experienced. He can’t help but let out another deep, guttural moan as the sensations wash over him. “Gods, yes. Just like that,” he pants, his voice low and rough.

“You’re so good at this. So damn good.” He reaches out, gently tangling his fingers in your hair, not to control your movements but just to have something to hold onto. 

The inside of your mouth felt nice and warm, causing him to shudder from the sensation. Eventually, his hand grips your hair and, for the first time, unintentionally thrusts into your throat. You feel a bit of force from him as he pushes your head down, his cock going halfway down your throat and almost choking you. 

Jericho lets out a low moan as you suck faster, wanting to hear the desperate need for ecstasy while taking pleasure from each sound he makes. He grips your hair roughly and throws his head back, but you don’t seem to mind. After all, you want him to make more sounds.  

You take the entire cock inside your mouth again, feeling the cock becoming harder than before, nodding your head up and down and swirling your tongue around his cock, making sure to aim for the tip as well, savoring the pre-cum taste. Your eyes travel to his face, beholding the euphoric expression as he bites his lips, feeling you lick the slightest bit of cum that leaks from him, 

Jericho could barely hold himself together as you pleasured him, his head spinning and his body writhing. He looked down at you, his eyes filled with lust and intense with love.

“You’re... you’re driving me crazy,” he managed, his voice rough and breathless. “…God.” His moans and gasps are like music to your ears, fueling that excitement as they suck and move your head in all the ways that they know will drive him wild.

“Mmh.” You suck faster and faster, your fingers fumbling with his balls as your swallow his cock even deeper down your throat—he didn’t think any more could be possible.

He’s so deep in your throat that whenever you thrust his cock in, your nose nearly touches his pelvis. Jericho can’t help but thrust your mouth down his needy cock down your throat again.

Immediately, you feel his warm cum flood your mouth, coating the back of your tongue and oozing down your neck. His hand quickly releases you, “Sorry, love, I couldn’t help it…” He mutters another apology. His face looks slightly flushed, and he’s breathing a little harder.

Oh god, he looks so hot right now—is all you think about, feeling the growing dampness between your legs as you stare up at him, his now soft cock still in your mouth. 

“No one’s ever made me feel this way before. Gods, you’re... incredible,” Jericho murmurs, his voice heavy with awe and lingering desire. His words hang in the air, electric and intimate. The way he looks at you—half in disbelief, half in reverence—sends a shiver down your spine.

Without hesitation, you lean forward, your lips brushing against the velvety, slick surface of his cock. Your tongue darts out, teasing the sensitive tip, and you savor the salty-sweet taste that lingers there. Slowly, deliberately, you begin to suckle, your tongue swirling and pressing against every ridge and curve. A soft moan escapes his lips, though he quickly clamps his mouth shut, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

Jericho’s chest heaves and his hands grip the soft couch beneath him, knuckles whitening as he fights to stay still. His breath hitches, and he glances away, the flush on his cheeks deepening as he battles the urge stirring within him. His jaw tightens, and he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again to find you. 

“You’re... you’re sure you want to keep going?” he asks, his voice strained and hoarse. Despite the question, his fingers reach out instinctively, trailing down the side of your face.

His touch is warm, trembling ever so slightly as if he's trying to ground himself. “I don’t want to wear you out,” he adds, his brows furrowing even as his lips part to let out a shallow exhale.

You pause for a moment, meeting his gaze with a soft smile, and your heart clenches at the mixture of vulnerability and yearning in his eyes. There's a rawness to him, an unguarded honesty that makes your chest tighten with affection. His concern feels genuine, but so does the hunger simmering beneath his words—a need he can’t quite hide.

Jericho looks down at you again, his heart pounding so loudly you can almost hear it. His disheveled hair falls into his eyes, and he brushes it back absentmindedly, the action making him seem almost boyish in his tenderness.

Despite the way his breathing is still uneven, he manages to smile faintly. “You’ve already done such a good job,” he says softly, his fingers brushing over your messy hair in an almost reverent gesture.

You feel a pang of something deep and inexplicable—a selfish kind of love, one that makes you want to claim and cherish every part of him. The thought takes root in your chest, blooming with a quiet intensity. Jericho’s hand lingers on your cheek, his thumb grazing the edge of your jaw.

From this moment, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than here, tangled in his warmth his selfish love. 

[55sturn]

the sweetest consequence part 0.01: the realization

pairings: [ secret trope!] chris sturniolo x best friend!fem reader [ eventually but not really in this part ]

synopsis: in which chris receives a frustrated and glaringly disappointed call from his mother in the middle of the night, prompting him to take the next flight home, only to be met with the irreversible consequences of his actions.

disclaimers: the trope for chris will be revealed at the end of this blurb. angst. swearing. more detailed warnings to come.

THIRD PERSON POV

chris had a tendency to have a reoccurring impulsive streak any time he became stressed, frustrated, or when he fought with his brothers. but at any other given moment, he was calculated and prepared. he made sure to be smart about the things he did, given his career choice and the fact that he was constantly in the limelight as a rapidly growing content creator, even years after hitting his peak.

he tried to make good choices, to make smart ones, to be so sure that there was no way anything negative would come of something he did, especially in his romantic life. but he’s also known to be careless at times, especially if his ego and arrogance were at an all time high.

and for the last year, he felt that he had been doing a good job at keeping himself in check. but that changed the second the shrill and painfully reverberating ring of his phone woke him up at nearly two in the morning.

rolling over with a loud groan, chris blindly grabs for the source of the noise, aiming to decline the call when he blearily realizes who’s calling him. he’s quick to hit the answer button and place his phone to his ear,

“mom? it’s almost five in the morning there, what are do you doing up?” he croaks, his voice thick with sleep and worry, hoping that something hadn’t happened to either of his parents or trevor.

“i need you to come home on the earliest flight possible, christopher.” she demands, frustration and hysterical disappointment seeing through every word, causing chris to sit up, wracking his brain for every possible reason that could have her this upset. as he sits there contemplating every choice he’s made in the last five years, his mother is droning on, talking about how irresponsible and utterly idiotic he could be sometimes.

“alright, alright. ma, i’m on it. just me or all of us?” he cuts her off, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he climbs out of bed and walks to his desk, powering his computer on as he sighs.

“just you. you better not drag your brothers into this mess. i cannot believe you christopher owen.” she sighs, her voice cracking as the severity of the situation weighs down on her.

“i’ll be there tomorrow evening. i’m sorry for whatever i’ve done to upset you, ma and i love you.”

“i love you chris, i really do. but i wish you’d think about things a little more before rushing into them head-first.” and with that, she bids him goodnight and ends the call. leaving chris with nothing but confusion and panic creeping their way up his spine.

he’s quick to toss some clothes and the absolute essentials he knows he’ll need into a duffle bag and suitcase, texting both of his brothers that he needs to head back to boston to deal with something, letting them know he’ll update once he knows more himself.

as he lays back down in bed, hoping to get at least two more hours of rest before having to leave, he tosses and turns, unable to stop picking at every memory he can to figure out what the fuck he did.

as he touches down in boston after an almost six hour flight, he makes his way through the airport after grabbing his luggage, and booking an uber home. the ride to his parents place is deafeningly quiet, and it does little to ease his nerves, he’s sure he’ll wear a hole through the floormat in the backseat of the uber with how much his legs are bouncing.

upon arriving, his nerves are completely shot and he doesn’t know what he’s about to step into, but with a deep breath and a quiet thanks to the driver, he’s making his way up the driveway, and through the gate toward the entrance of the house. and he feels like he’s moving on autopilot.

as he opens the door to his childhood home, he’s met with the sound of a baby babbling away and his mother cooing at her, and the sound is enough to make his blood run cold.

with quick determination, he climbs the stairs and steps foot into the kitchen, and he’s met with a sight he hadn’t expected for at least another ten years. his mother talking his child. and there’s not a single doubt in his mind that the child sitting on the island while his mother holds her still is his. he knows for sure. and he knows who her mother is. and as mary-lou makes eye contact with her youngest son, all that can be heard is a quiet,

“oh fuck.”

STAR’S CORNER star stop making new mini au’s and finish the ones that have existed for almost a year already challenge!! but i texted @mattscoquette abt this and i knew based on her reaction i had to make it come to life. there will be more parts eventually.

anyway meet single dad!chris!

copyright divider by @strnilolover

[aventurineswife]

Hello! I've been reading your SAHSRAU content (10000/10 btw). I suddently had this idea of a reader who has 12 pure white angelic wings that they can hide whenever they want. But the aura surrouding them is so intense and pure that is nearly impossible to hide. However those wings can turn black under extreme moments of anger or rage. Kinda like this ying and yang kinda thing in which the reader is a balance between light and darkness under some circuntances yet not malicious in any shape or form. Also i don't know about yoh but can you imagine the reader looking like warhammer 40k emperor or manking? Being tall and divine yet hates being called a god? I find that idea funny since it's canon that the emperor of mankind loathes being called or seeing a god can you imagine the reader being tall and golden in everyshape or form being worship while cringing inside? I can imagine sunday, argenti or any other religious character not just from honkai but from genshin trying to worship the reader.

Sunday: "Praise the almighty Creator! The God of life. Allow me to sing praises to your glory!"

EoM Reader: "Please don't...."

Argenti: "Your grace your beauty surpassed does of Idrila!"

"EoM! Reader: "STOP! I AM NOT A GOD!"

Sunday: "All hail the creator!"

Everyone else: "All hail the creator!"

Meanwhile the reader is dying inside while some of the express crew tries to comfort them. Since the reader aura is soo strong and so divine they basically can't hide it

(This is not a request or anything like that I just wanted to discuss these ideas with you)

HELLOOO—first of all, thank you so much! I'm so glad you've been enjoying the SAHSRAU content, and OH MY GOD this concept you’ve dropped in my lap?? I’m devouring it. This is chef’s kiss peak celestial angst and divine comedy.

12 pure white angelic wings—absolutely yes. It's so biblical it hurts (in a good way). That kind of holiness that burns, like trying to look directly into the sun. The Reader’s presence isn't just divine; it’s overwhelming, a pressure on the soul like you're being judged just by standing in the same room. But the twist? The Reader hates it. That kind of “I’m just trying to live a life and y’all keep bowing” energy.

And then—black wings in times of wrath? That duality is so poetic. The idea that they're not evil when the wings turn black—it’s just a mirror to the emotion inside them. Their “rage mode” isn’t demonic, it’s just the raw force of justice or grief that tips the balance. Think “vengeful seraph” not “fallen angel.” And maybe even in those moments, others misinterpret it as the Reader falling from grace, and they panic. Meanwhile the Reader’s just screaming “THIS IS FINE I’M JUST MAD.”

Reader who looks like the Emperor of Mankind but cringes when worshipped—oh my god, the contrast of their divine, regal, borderline eldritch presence with the deeply human, "please stop putting me on a pedestal" energy?? HILARIOUS. They walk into a room, radiant as a thousand suns, their voice makes walls tremble—and the first words out of their mouth are: “You better not be kneeling again, I swear to Aeons—”

Sunday is positively vibrating in reverence. Argenti probably composes three odes a day, and Jingliu has to physically drag him away sometimes. Even Herta’s research drones start quoting scripture when the Reader enters the lab.

Reader internally screaming at the cult forming around them while characters like March, Dan Heng, or even Kafka and Welt are trying to shield them from the worst of the worship?

YES.

March: sighs “Okay, I’ll take care of the shrine someone made in the parlor again.”

Dan Heng: “We can’t keep threatening to throw Sunday off the train.”

Trailblazer, deadpan: “...Can we, though?”

Meanwhile, Sampo’s probably selling fake feathers on the black market claiming “They fell off the Creator’s wings during their descent!”

I also love that Reader’s aura is too strong to suppress, like their divinity is an inescapable fact of existence. That just adds this beautiful tragicomedy where even if they wore a hoodie and sunglasses, the sheer reality-breaking presence of them would turn every head. “I’m not a god,” Reader says as flowers bloom in their footsteps and the air vibrates with unseen choirs.

“You sure about that?” replies literally everyone.

[ametistacollinsworld]

𖤓 V, J and N x Child! Realistic Human drone! Reader 𖤓

My 66 request! I hope it's good!!! >:3

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

You don't remember exactly when you were created, who your creator was… or what your purpose was…

You just remember waking up one day with no memories and your entire spaceship shaking violently while the control panel let out several error noises or loud heat warnings that scared you, which made you curl up in the fetal position under one of the control tables and closing your eyes being scared. The next thing you knew, the spaceship crashed hard against the ground, making you hit your head against the table and fly to the ceiling of the spaceship before ending up face down on the floor, which made you whimper.

★ᯓ Some time later ᯓ★

You don't know how long it's been since you arrived at this place, maybe a few hours? You really had no idea.

Luckily (or unluckily) for you, you started to hear the sounds of footsteps approaching where you were, followed by 3 voices that seemed to be discussing something that you unfortunately couldn't hear very well from inside the ship. You soon heard a loud noise coming from the direction where the door was, followed by a loud 'BAM' sound!

"Look for any sign of another group being here. We don't want them to possibly stay in our already designated patrol area. You look inside the spaceship since you're a useless N, while me and V will look around for any clues." A female voice with a superior and somewhat bossy tone spoke loudly followed by a "Right!" feminine voice and an "Okay!" masculine voice.

You huddled further under the table if possible, trying to control your breathing so you wouldn't get caught… Which soon proved useless after a few minutes, as you locked eyes with a pair of yellow eyes belonging to the male murder drone that was now lowered, looking straight at your small, cowering humanoid figure. He seemed to sense your nervousness.

"O-Oh! Hey little one! Y-you… you're not a real human… are you? Uh…" N spoke quickly, rambling softly approaching a hand slowly towards your small figure, the that you pulled away from his touch still feeling scared.

"Oh… I'm sorry little one. I didn't even introduce myself, did I? My name is N! What's your name?" N asked calmly giving you a smile trying to make you feel more comfortable with him.

"(Y/n)…" You said softly looking at him shyly, which he gave you a content smile.

"(Y/n)? What a cool name! How about you come down from there so I can see you better?" N asked with a soft beam, still trying not to scare you, which seemed to work, as you crawled closer to him holding his winter coat in your little hands, which he screamed internally, finding you adorable.

"Okay (Y/n), can I hold you?" N asked with a soft tone stroking your head slowly. You just nodded receiving a happy smile from him, feeling him take you into his arms and hold you against his chest.

"Uh- J? V? I think I found something…" N spoke out loud for the female drones to hear. Some grumbling from the leader was heard.

"I hope it's really important or I'll rip your legs off N!" J spoke in the distance, not seeming to be satisfied with N's vague announcement.

"Oh biscuits-…" N spoke softly seeing the two female drones flying towards the two of you.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ Time break

Well, we can say that J and V were at least surprised by the new discovery made by the male drone, V just watched you from afar with confusion and curiosity… while J didn't even make a sarcastic comment about N! He was safe from J… for now.

"Well? What should we do with them? They're clearly not a real human- at least that's what my sensors indicate… but they still look like a small child…" V spoke with an uninterested tone, but with a hidden hint of worry for what might happen to you if they left you behind.

"Well, my sensors indicate the same result- So I guess it's a fact." J spoke with her grumpy tone, but now with a thoughtful expression as she looked at your small figure who seemed to have fallen asleep. N sighed softly at the words of the two drones.

"S-So? What are we going to do with them? They can't stay here, they're just a kid! Can we keep them?" N asked quickly with a worried expression, not wanting to lose his new friend, meanwhile stroking your hair slowly so as not to wake you, which J rolled her eyes at his actions.

"Of course we'll keep them. Even though they're not a real human, they were still inside the company's spaceship… so they must be one of ours. We must take care of them." J spoke slowly, giving N a look that told him to keep quiet and not interrupt her. V turned away to hide the small smile that formed on her lips, she was happy that you were safe.

"Really?! Thanks J! I'll be the best caretaker in the world!" N initially spoke in an excited tone, but soon calmed down remembering that you were sleeping, giving a happy smile to J and then to your sleeping form.

"Don't thank me. I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing this for the company." J spoke with a tone of disgust, rolling her eyes once again and crossing her arms.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ Time break

We can say that the small group quickly became attached to you, treating you as a true kid to them.

N from the beginning, has adored you, finding you adorable and wanting to take care of you, becoming your full-time caregiver, as well as hunting down Worker drones to feed him and you fresh oil! He almost threw a cute fit when you called him 'Papa' for the first time, so you're definitely a weakness of his. :)

V also thought you were cute from the beginning, but having to maintain the 'feelingless psychopath' mask and try not to interact with you too close to the other two so as not to raise suspicions. When the other two left her to take care of you, she loved to play with you, tickling you or kissing your cheeks, making you laugh. She was touched when you called her 'Mama', thinking you were the cutest thing she could have ever known.

J… well, we can say that she didn't really know what to feel about you, but other than that, she also tried her best to take care of you, whether it was for the company or not, and over time she warmed up and became more protective of you, giving you the title 'Little assassin in training'. She was a little embarrassed when you called her 'Mama' for the first time, but then she liked it and said it was okay if you wanted to call her that.

They were a bit shocked when they discovered the killer part of you on the loose, taking place on one of their many Worker drone hunts, where N was watching you and suddenly you had transformed into something less humanoid and more robotic and was following J and V… and in the blink of an eye you were in front of them both and already ended up with an entire colony alone. They were surprised, but kind of proud too-

Basically 1 new papa and 2 new mamas for you :]

[slutforalastor]

you never thought this day might come, sat down with the Radio Demon's head in your lap, his gaze lazy and half-lidded as he allows you, generously, so generously, to touch the pronged antlers that extend from the top of his head. His lips pass soft white noise as you run a finger from the base to the tip of his antlers, the vibration that you can feel beneath the hard exterior somewhere between the hum of a domestic appliance and the throb, throb, throb of a heartbeat

You can feel Alastor's shoulders tense up whenever you put too much pressure on them, his calm breathing briefly interrupted every time you push his sensitivity past his tolerance. Each time you find yourself being too exploratory, you correct yourself back to the safety of gentle strokes, letting your fingertips soak in the unique texture. They are somewhere between the firm smoothness of exposed bone, like his teeth when they drag across the topmost layer of your skin, leaving perfect streaks too shallow to bleed, too pronounced to refute their creator, and the spongy give of delicate flesh. You know the trust he's imparted to you to be given this kind of access; not only does he so limit incoming touch, but resents any reminder of his reincarnation as a prey animal.

"I'm surprised you're okay with this," you murmur to him, so unwilling to compromise the sanctity of this moment.

"Only because it is you," Alastor assures you, his tone just as hushed.

You continue, relishing in this opportunity. You explore every hook and divot of the black extensions, marveling at the current of demonic energy that pulses through them. It was your impression that they only grew when Alastor was angry, but not quite: any overwhelming passion, be it joy, theoretically speaking, or fear, or sadness, and they will billow out. You wonder if you can elicit such a response. Your opening gambit is strong: you lean into his ear, whispering "If anyone else were to do this, you'd tear them apart, wouldn't you?"

"For even less than this, dearest. I'd assumed that was obvious."

"But not me?"

"But not you."

"Maybe I want you to tear me apart, love."

The first sign; you feel a shift through the skeletal system they're connected to, a tremor of recognition, of sudden awoken desire.

"I'm sure you just aren't aware of what you're asking for."

"No, I'm all too aware. You want something deeper, too, don't you? It can't be enough just to meet in such a temporary union, only to separate. I want you to bring a little piece of me along with you, knowing you've claimed more than just one part of me, but any you desire."

He shudders, deeper this time, and you feel growth. Sharp edges and deeper curves sprout like curling ivy where there had once been certain ends, like a blossoming tree bursting into life. Your loving strokes down the length of his antlers grow deeper, more pronounced, almost incessant.

"What game are you playing at?" Alastor pants, his breathing hitching every time you push against them with any kind of firmness.

"I love seeing what you do."

His body has seized, but doesn't do anything else. You can feel the efforts of the sinew across his back against your lap. Best of all are his facial expressions; his initial contentment has evolved, firstly into surprised, the edges of his bladed grin peeking out from his thin lips, his eyes squinted and playful. Now it's become a look of desire, his mouth open slightly, droning a steady song with no melody but a captivating refrain, nonetheless. His eyes plead with you; so uncharacteristic, for him to be putty in your hands. To think you could hold the high ground in any situation, much less as a result of this.

"Don't toy with me," he warns, but his voice doesn't sound assured. It sounds needy, like a request for more.

"I would never, love."

"Then end this teasing," he begs.

You do as he asks, taking your hands away from his antlers. With some strain, he manages to get his breathing back under control, his antlers receding like the retreating tide, back to their typical size. "Did you enjoy yourself?" you wonder, after he's calmed himself.

He looks at you with mischief etched in his features. "Not as much as I'm sure I will soon enough." ~~~