#lmk bug

[duelfeather]

Prompts by @theghosthost

Bellow are Inked days 4,5, and... 1/2 of day 6.

[iizuumi]

whoever decided to give astarion a gun ily

[but-i-hear-you-anyway]

cutest ever baby house centipede i found at work

[sleepypatho]

More Coraline AU 🧵🚪

[ningadudexx]

canonically he is ugly but to me he is a beautiful princess ❤️

[stellartistic]

BUG - 5

[aureacor]

ALL MEN ARE MORTAL  /  network & character page

light preview / code + dark preview / code

features

mobile friendly

on-click effect to reveal a blurb with links

separate characters by categories

375 x 355 image size

scrollable description

NO Javascript

notes

full credits inside code

do not remove credit, or take portions of my code for your own page

do not claim as your own

do not use my code as a base

at this time, further customization support is available with a tip.

variation of my theme nausea, without javascript

Instructions on how to customize font/colors/size are within the code itself. If you have general questions please look through the coding tag first before sending me an ask. substantial edits are fine so long as you keep my credit link in and do not distribute your edited version.

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[nyaskitten]

LMK styled Drix (I am mildly good at this)

[butterzowie]

mks so sily i love him

[plains-flora]

june 30, 2024 // prairie rose

[wenttotheairport]

wait @eddiesprius has infected me w the mayravi vision…. aged up to like 27 & 36… may has a boyfriend she refuses to tell anyone about but she keeps posting cheeky instagram stories that are driving eddie & buck (mostly eddie) insane trying to figure out. meanwhile everyone at the 118 is nagging ravi abt going on blind dates but he’s so good at redirecting them that nobody is able to actually follow through with their matchmaking plots. cut to a random bathena brunch and bobby makes direct eye contact with ravi charliemac it’s always sunny-style just as ravi is leaning in to kiss may. ravi can’t look bobby in the eye for WEEKS. in my mind athena loves ravi like kind of a weird amount by this point (not quite gene parmesan but like. not far) & she’s completely overjoyed and keeps hounding him to come over for dinner. bobby drinks like nine cups of black coffee a day & keeps hiding from ravi in his office to call michael about it. (michael offers to fly in from miami like seven times & does in fact show up with david for the big dinner.) bobby & ravi have a really awkward conversation on the roof at like 3 am & then never speak about it again. may escapes all of this blissfully unscathed <3

[goldenmotive]

Wonder if Taylor's power was the Khepri-style body control all along.

Like, are the bugs she controls still aware?

She's always has them doing weird stuff. Like okay I'm a dragonfly and you want me to taxi these four black widows who could kill me to that guys balls??? I'm a little gnat and you want me to kill myself and die so spider can eat me??? I'm one pubic louse among hundreds all being marched in grand ritual suicide over the corpses of my kin to the prison bug zapper???

I don't really know how bugs think but like. Are their instincts freaking out. Is there bug trauma

[cloudcastor]

MARIPOSA MORPHO

[minced-mangoes]

I am in love with the concept of the demons in the devildom having to shed their horns, as well as possible shedding of fur, feathers, scales, or skin. With this we have to assume the demon's horns align closer to antlers than actual horns, since horns don't shed, but antlers do. Either way these are magical creatures so fuck logic. I can do what I want. Maybe they don't actually fall off, but instead shed a layer of keratin, keeping the horns shiny, strong, and unmarred. For some demons this shedding is easier, like for Lucifer and Diavolo's horns. However, with demons like Mammon and Barbatos, the details on the horn make it much harder to come off, often needing assistance.

The shed keratin from demon's horns can be used for other things, typically the creation of beauty products, and demons can get good grimm for handing in shed horn layers. I also think Satan will have to do this with his tail.

Now, the feathered demons tend to have the problem of occasional molting, and losing feathers. I'd also imagine they'd have to spend a lot of time preening and plucking their wings. Lucifer might need your help pulling a blood feather or two. Help him, please. Fur. I'm mostly thinking Belphie here. He sheds. Everywhere. Usually Beel helps by brushing out his fur, but you can definitely assist as well, it's lot of fur and four hands are better than two. Scales, this is for Levi. Please help him shed. It's not comfortable and he can't pay attention to his games if his scales have a layer peeling off. Dunk him in water, get him some nice rocks to rub up against, and peel off anything that gets really stuck. He'll be smooth, shiny, and happy afterwards.

And for the demons with wings that aren't feathered? I assume they'd need to be cared for as well. The thin wing membrane will need moisturizing. For the bug demons? help them shed their exoskeletons. I'm thinking specifically Beel and Asmo here. Yes, I headcanon they have to shed like bugs. Beel not as much, since he's a fly, but Asmo's sin animal is a scorpion, he's gonna need to get rid of that old exoskeleton as he grows. Also he comes out so much shinier and more beautiful! You gotta help him be as gorgeous as he can be!

All and all demon forms need a lot of maintenance. But that's okay, you're there to assist. Hey, maybe this will help you bond. And when you need a little help with caring for yourself, your demons will repay your kindness. ~~~ Tomi here! I take requests via my ask box! Please PLEASE PLEASE drop ideas or just things you want me to talk about there or in my comments,,, I eat stuff like that for lunch,,,

[stellartistic]

Bug - IV

[ The bug sketches continue :) ]

[lavendermin]

disasterology | boothill

boothill x reader, mad scientist reader

wc | 1.7k

genre | light banter, ambiguous relationship

warnings | nsfw, artificial cyborg guts, suggestive, body horror, love bug (literally via data transfer), mentions of giving boothill a womb, boothill bluescreens

note | my piece as part of the autumn festival collab hosted by @owlespresso ^^ I’ll probably make a part two to this to squeeze in more banter and get some actual freaky stuff in

“You’re back at my lab… A little soon, no?” The question is thrown at Boothill without a spared glance as you are engrossed in several tasks at once. The Galaxy Ranger makes his way over to your mess of screens and tools by your main work desk, his strides reminiscent of someone a little too comfortable in your bubble.

“Annual checkup. Don’t tell me you forgot already, doc?” Boothill teases with feigned hurt, sharp teeth flashing with his playful grin.

“Not a doctor,” you correct him flatly.

A holo-screen appears before his face, stopping him from nearing your concentrated form. A flurry of data scrolls by and a pop-up appears with a few dates.

With a few final taps you swivel toward him and the screen. “According to your record in my data bank, you’re not due for your checkup for another nine weeks,” you state matter-of-factly. With a few taps and a swipe, the screen is gone and you meet Boothill’s gaze for the first time. “So, what’s the actual reason you’re here? Surely not just a friendly visit to the resident witch or whatever they’re calling me these days on this planet.”

“Recent scrap didn’t end too well. Leg’s been acting up.”

Your eyes scan him briefly, humming in thought as you enter new data and access his file.

“I definitely noticed a few new scratches to your outer shell armor,” you note, speaking more to yourself as you log the new data. “I’ll run some tests and analyze further.”

You roll back in your chair near him, gathering a few tools here and there and holding an emesis basin in front of him. Boothill squints at you in confusion, a frown pulling down his lips in a glimmer of dangerous, sharp teeth.

“Here. Spit them out—all the ammo you have. Now.”

His eyes sharpen, but he relents with a grunt. The metal of the bullets hitting the basin is all that fills the silence as you return to some screens and rummage through rows of drawers and drawers that line the walls.

It’s a chaotically organized yet unorganized lab, to say the least.

“There’s an empty box near you. Go ahead and remove all of your outerwear and any other weapons so we can get started,” you instruct as you prepare a table nearby.

Boothill begins to protest. “Doc, it’s just my leg. I don’t need–”

When he turns back to your desk you’re gone from sight. It unnerves him and you appear behind him seemingly from thin air.

“Hey–!”

You plug several chords into a few outlets on his hip. The feeling of the data processing through multiple base drives makes his entire body feel like numbing static courses through it.

Your face is close. Too close.

“Let's get a base-read on what’s going on here for now. I’ll leave the room so you can get undressed if you’re modest like that.” Your eyes flit down and you smirk. “Not like I haven’t seen your full model before.”

His face flushes a bright crimson and he sputters, shoving you away. You laugh out loud, unsettling and loose as you go back to your screens. It’s become more apparent with each visit that you aren’t entirely sound of mind.

“I still wonder why your face flushes red when your synthetic blood is blue. Perhaps I’ll find out today,” you grin, looking up and being met with a metallic click and the barrel of a gun between your eyes.

There’s a fierceness in Boothill’s glare, red cheeks betraying his threat. Though his hand is steady, your monitors signal increased levels of core maintenance and adrenaline. He doesn’t know how to handle your teasing— never will.

“I don’t have time to be yer forkin’ lab rat,” he sneers.

Your expression remains calm, unbothered as a lazy smile makes way to your lips. It’s an irksome sureness that makes the ranger’s eye twitch and teeth grit. Perhaps that’s simply your insanity creeping into him as well.

It draws him in like a moth to a flame. And he convinces himself that he hates it.

“You wouldn’t hurt me.”

“And what makes you think I wouldn’t put a bullet in yer head for crossing me?”

“Plenty of reasons. But really I only need one.”

“Yeah? And what’s that, sweets?” He scoffs, patience running thin.

You gently tap a knuckle over his heart core, the area making a soft metal clank as you do so. Boothill falls silent for a moment as you say nothing more. The mental gears turn a little harder than usual and suddenly his face is hot. Too hot.

“Wh– What– Who ever said I liked ya like that?! A ranger doesn’t get wrapped up in those feelings, ya hear?!”

And you fucking smirk.

“I’m not sure what you’re insinuating. All I meant was that you wouldn’t get rid of your one and only mechanic on this side of the galaxy, would you? Who else would be stupid enough to take all your last minute tuning appointments and repair jobs after reckless battles? You need me, ranger.” You pause and shift your gaze directly at him. “No reason to get so defensive. Unless… you have feelings for me?”

“Negative feelings,” he seethes.

But you’ve seen right through him. It’s an act of pity that you just chuckle and resume your work on diagnosing some of the sensors around his midriff. Still enough to keep the cowboy grumbling and red in the face.

“Feelings nonetheless,” you chuckle under your breath as you swivel back to the flurry of incoming data. “I’ll head to the back to grab a few things I’ll need and see if a few spare parts are lying around that are similar to some of your fractured hip joints. Do not touch anything.”

Once you’re out of sight, Boothill grumbles and removes his hat and jacket. The bright industrial lights only serve to irk him more— never was one to like hospital settings.

It’s a bit more of a predicament when the wires attached to his hip get in the way of removing his bottoms. He clicks his tongue and listens as your fumbling in the distance remains constant.

Whatever. Damn cables are in the way. What is he to do? He yanks them off and removes the last of his articles, shoving them in the box off to the side you left for him.

“Fork me,” he grumbles. There’s an unruly mess of cables on the floor, most of which look the same and range in color. Naturally, none are labeled.

Just his luck.

One of your monitors beeps and a few pop ups come up as the data flow abruptly ends. In a panic, Boothill grabs a red and a black cable and plugs them in. He clicks a few of the pop ups to make them go away and resume whatever they asked. He didn’t have time to read whatever jargon it said, not that he would have understood it anyway.

He’s seated and on the examination table by the time you walk back in with a few boxes stacked in your arms.

A warm hum settles in his core with his data processor kicking in. It’s pleasant, albeit an odd sensation.

You set down the boxes and glance at the screens, humming with thought. The pause is a beat too long and Boothill can only hope you don’t prod. You tap a few things on the screen and approach him with a smile.

“Alright. Pain receptors are off and your maintenance mode is on. Let’s get started.”

—

Only about forty minutes have passed but it’s becoming increasingly clear to Boothill that something is clearly wrong. He’s used to certain processes being shut off while you work on him— that part is normal.

Right now, he can’t seem to take his eyes off you. And you won’t spare him a glance as you work, much too engrossed in his guts— literally. He huffs and you don’t bother looking at him. It pisses him off.

“If you’re feeling discomfort use your words, ranger,” you mutter without missing a beat. “If your pain processors kicked in due to something that went wrong I need to know before you blow up on me.”

Your tug at a particular wire makes him gasp, his grip on the edge of the table warping the metal.

“Fork– Watch it!” His breath shakes with a gasp, face flushed.

“You didn’t exactly come with a manual.”

“Please don’t say that while yer hands are in my guts.”

You snicker, ignoring his glare as you continue to work methodically.

“I could always give you new insides if I mess these up,” you tease smoothly, fingers deeper still in his abdominal cavity. “Would you like it if I gave you a womb?”

Boothill huffs with a shiver as you tug at that same wire again, his back arching slightly off the cold, metal table. His mouth hangs open, unable to say a word. It’s overwhelming, an intense sensation that he feels in every artificial nerve end.

You call his name once more— so sweet and full of concern. The auditory hallucinations have begun from the wrong dataset he hooked himself up to earlier. Your voice in actuality is much more nonchalant than he processes.

“Booth? Ranger? Are you still with me?” You tap his cheek, his eyes darting shakily around the room. Red hearts for irises replace his usual programmed eye setup when he blinks to glance at you. You sigh. “I told you not to touch anything didn’t I?”

“Yer… my soulmate.”

“No,” you deadpan, flicking your wrist to bring up a holo-screen before you. Seems the neuro-processors couldn’t sort the wide range of the artificial emotion dataset and developed a love bug. “Boothill, if you can still understand me beyond the love bug, I’ll be turning on your standby function for a few minutes to finish.”

You’re not sure if he heard you at all, watching as whatever he heard in his bugged brain makes him red in the face and shiver.

Then, he blue-screens and all is quiet after his metal body clangs against the table.

You heave a sigh, a smile still on your lips. “Only your soulmate would put up with a ranger this obtuse.”