Good news, everyone! The plush from Gimme Swag has released and is now available for purchase!
Just go to the link above to order your favorite yandere boy! Please be aware the current estimated shipping date is between December 30th and January 30th!
This campaign is in partnership with Gimme Swag, and it's only available for a limited time!
We know many of you were worried about missing the first pre-order, so this is your chance to finally bring Pierrot home and have him in your arms!
The campaign will only be available for 30 days. Once it ends, the plush will no longer be available for purchase, and there won't be any extra stock available.
So be sure to keep an eye on the campaign dates so you don't miss your chance!
Not a full post but just some thoughts I had while studying for my last Vet Med Final for the year. I may make it into a full post later on 👀
You guys know what I like to imagine? How the TFC would feel about the fact that humans now-a-days feel very differently about monsters than they did 100 years ago.
Like don't get me wrong, there were freaks back then too, but now? Every other person you meet seems to be 100% down to get with a monster. Be it traditional "humanoid" ones like vampires, werewolves, ghosts, etc. or more "edgy" types like the Alien Queen, Venom, The King in Yellow... etc. Humans are FREAKS, y'all.
Like if your boyfriend took off his hat, and there were horns, you'd realistically be pretty shaken up or surprised at least. I mean- monsters are suddenly real, and you thought he was a human and all. Now if you run or not would be entirely up to who you are as a person and how you react, but there's a good portion of us that, while still on edge, would be very, very interested.
I mean- monsterfucker is a term we use regularly on this site 😭
I'm just imagining MC hanging around the circus and playing a game of smash or pass on a computer when one of the cast walks by and asks what they're doing. MC tells them all casually, "Oh, Smash or Pass. Wanna play?"
Monster of choice watches for a minute before, let's say... Venom appears on screen.
Now, monster is fully expecting MC to say pass. I mean, this is clearly a monster. Tall, muscular, sharp teeth, tendrils, and a parasitic nature? There's no possible-, "Oh absolutely, what kind of question even is that? Everyone wants Venom. I mean- look at those teeth, and that tongue? Smash. On the counter, on the floor, till morning, or better yet we just don't stop-"
Cue a very flustered monster (I feel like even Harlequin would be a hint flustered in this case with how blatant MC is) quickly finding out humans have much different preferences than they did 100 years ago.
Yada yada i GET it,,, everyone LOVVEEESSS the circus guys,, im a harlequin lover myself ,, BUT I BEEEGGGGG..... THERES GOTTA BE PEOPLE WHO LOVE COLUMBINA ???????
Like MOVE OUTTA THE WAY !!!! IM HERE FOR THE PRETTY WOMAN !!!!
yeah I started writing TFC stuff instead of finishing my 26 DPxDC drafts 😭 first time writing for TFC but I’ve been in the fandom two weeks and I’ve already got to go to page 26 out of 65 when looking for TFC/reader content on Ao3 😭 I love this stupid darling clown
How would Pierrot react to discovering that what they thought was a regular human is actually a monster? (and a strong one at that.) This one is pierrot centric but I may write for others if requested! also Venom is canonically between 7'0" and 10'4" (213cm-314cm) so congrats! You're taller than the Doctor at minimum!
WARNINGS: The Freak Circus is an 18+ game. Therefore this post is 18+ too! Get outta here, minors 🔞 MDNI
Characters: Pierrot (+ extras!)
⭐️ 𝓟𝓲𝓮𝓻𝓻𝓸𝓽 ⭐️
For starters, things go as they do in game! Poor, lovesick Pierrot is saved from an altercation. The only difference here is that it isn't because of missing people. That's been going on for a while now, thanks to you. I suppose some people just really don't like clowns, huh?
You're fully aware of the stalking from the moment it begins. The symbiote immediately senses that you're being watched from outside the cafe. Plus, due to your diet, you know exactly what that rose is painted with from the moment you smell the blood on it.
Unfortunately for Pierrot and his nightly visits, symbiotes don’t require sleep.
"Ah my dear, You..." WHAM SMACK POW
He's immediately shoved away and grabbed by tendrils before being lifted up as a black, viscous liquid rapidly envelops you. He watches in a mix of shock and faint fear as you transform. Where you previously stood, now a 7ft tall monster with sharp teeth stands. You don’t look pleased, to say the least.
First of all- he’s frozen with the realization that he’s been caught breaking into your home. He’s definitely not making a good impression. Gulp.
Secondly, his dearest is like him! Ah, how perfect! You really are meant to be, aren’t you?
After some reluctantly accepted apologies, he’s set down carefully. He’s in awe. His dear, able to to blend in so perfectly with humans, yet so dangerous. A perfect predator. He didn’t suspect a thing!
He was originally interested because you were a kind human, but he’s not so shallow as to change his mind because you aren’t what he expected.
Someone taller than even the Doctor? With those sharp teeth and that long tongue? Oh his thoughts are running wild. This man is 100 shades of red just thinking about hand holding, but this? It’s all too much for his poor soul.
He’s quick to invite you to come see him at the circus the next night, perhaps to even join him for dinner! You could technically get a black ticket now, but ah, he loves seeing you use his red ticket.
Still reluctant to reveal his own appearance, but gives in quickly if you ask. Afterall, his dearest wouldn’t be scared of him.
Extras!
❤️ Doctor
- so many questions. Be prepared because you aren’t leaving this tent for hours.
- so you don’t actually need human flesh? Just a certain compound that happens to be found in human brains? And you substitute it with chocolate? Interesting…
- Don’t let this man see your healing factor. He’s gonna have 60 experiments planned before you can call anyone to calm him down.
💜 Jester
- Well… that’s an improvement, certainly.
- Before, he was suspicious and guarded. He didn’t understand how both Pierrot and Harlequin could go get themselves caught up in a human so easily. Now? It’s… still not ideal but certainly not as bad as he had feared.
- Truthfully, he finds it unnerving how seamlessly you blend in as a human.
- Now he has no excuse for when Pierrot inevitably insists you come along with them when they leave town. Fantastic. You just had to exist, didn’t you?
🖌️ Ticket Taker
- huh. He thought his own human illusions were good, but this?
- Advocates for you to join them when Pierrot suggests it… only because he realizes that if you join, he can send you to run errands instead of going out himself.
- he’s curious, certainly, but he has better things to focus on. So long as you don’t eat them out of fools, he couldn’t care less.
🐍 Harlequin
- Immediately lays on the flirting, but keeps his distance a bit better. Flirting with a random human to piss off Pierrot is much different than hitting on a monster that very well looks capable of ripping his head off.
- His thoughts are running wild. He’s thinking about that tongue for the next couple nights to say the least. And those muscles… and that shapeshifting…
- You just keep getting more interesting, don’t you? He’s teasing Pierrot even more now.
synopsis: You're hit by an aphrodisiac, zanka takes care of you.
warnings: Smut. aphrodisiac effects, finger sucking, fingering, overstimulation themes, switch zanka if u squint.
a/n: I'm in zanka hell ya'll. Also I'm trying to figure out a format so bear with me please. My first time writing for him and gachiakuta in general. I used zanka’s color scheme, I'm so sorry if you're on dark mode and can't see it
You stumble into HQ on shaky legs, your body simmering on low heat. The moment you step through the door, Zanka’s there to greet you, nodding a thanks to Riyo, who had led you in. He cups your face, eyes taking in the warmth on your skin and your blown-out pupils.
"Oi." His voice is calm, but edged with steel. "What happened?"
Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Instead, you whimper, closing the distance by hooking shaky fingers into the front of his uniform.
The mission was simple, a quick clean-up in a No Man's Land you semi-knew like the back of your hand. You were masked up (protocol and common sense) and you nuked the trash beasts without so much as a grunt to alert others—rote.
But you hadn’t counted on getting sprayed with some kind of chemical dust, it misted up from the ground and seeped into your skin. When Tomme logged it as a cocktail of trash-born pheromones, your skin started to itch—annoying, but bearable. The moment it hit—warmth pooling in your gut and a sudden ache between your legs—your body started betraying you. You’d barely made it back.
"Zanka," You whine, pressing your body against him, trembling. "I don’t feel right."
He catches you easily, strong, slender arms wrapping around your waist and pressing you tighter against him. Your breath hitches when his scent hits you, all smoke and steel, and the citrus-scented polish he uses on Assistaff.
"You’re burning up," He mutters, steering you away from prying eyes and toward your shared quarters, nodding in thanks to Tomme and Semiu. "What the hell got ya?"
"Something that seeped into my skin—I don’t know," You breathe. "Just…help me." You can’t help it when your lips find his neck, kissing and nipping at that spot that makes him swallow a keen.
His eyes darken. "Shit, you’re all worked up from whatever that crap was." Then, quieter, almost possessive: "Didn’t want anyone else to see you like this, huh?"
You shake your head, desperate. "Only you, only want you." And it's true; the minute it sat in your system, your restraint locked in. It was obvious what happened to you, but the job wasn't finished and nobody needed to see you like that.
His jaw tightens as he pulls you toward the bed, your room bathed in low amber light. "Yeah? Poor thing," He murmurs, going for pity though he ends up sounding fond. If anything, his voice goes low, rough, affected. "Alright then, c'mere."
He sits on the bed, pulling you to straddle him, and you obey, legs bracketing his hips as you pull him in for a kiss that's all tongue. Your fingers knot in the hair at his nape, tugging gently and earning you a breathy laugh.
"Impatient," He chides, fingers teasing the hem of your shorts, grinning when your knees spread further apart and you begin a slow grind on his clothed cock, half-straining against the seam of his pants. Deft fingers pop the button on your shorts; his middle and ring fingers tap your thigh—a signal to stand—and when you do, he slips them, along with your panties, down in one fluid motion.
He lets his gaze drag down your frame—savoring your controlled breaths, your nipples poking through your shirt, begging to be toyed with, the restless shifting of your stance as you try to be patient. He stands; a tug on your wrist and you're drifting toward him, letting him turn you and lay you on the bed. Your legs instinctively fall open—shameless in the way he follows like a bee to pollen.
Sinewy fingers tap your lips, and you obey the nonverbal command to get his fingers wet. Your tongue coils around the digits, catching on his rings in a way that has your eyes fluttering. He lets you indulge before a pinch to your side stops you.
You writhe under him, anticipation twisting in your gut, and you gasp when his fingers slide inside, two of them, calloused and curling just right. It should help, he thinks, should take the edge off, but it doesn’t. If anything, it just makes you needier.
"Zanka," You gasp, grinding down on his hand, eyes almost rolling when the cold ring of his glove bumps your clit. "It’s not enough, please..."
He watches you squirm, pupils blown wide. "Greedy little thing," He murmurs in reverence. "My fingers alone ain't gonna cut it, huh?"
You shake your head furiously, tears pricking your eyes from how badly you ache. "Need more. Need you."
He leans down, licking into your mouth, slow and messy, while his fingers keep pumping in and out of you, teasing your walls.
"You’ll get me," He groans. "You’ll get everything. But first, I’m gonna wear you out just like this, until your body’s begging to give out."
Your hips buck at his words, hands clinging to his shoulders as the heat coils tighter and tighter inside you. Zanka just smirks against your neck.
"Let it out, sweetheart. We’ve got all night."
You’re practically climbing him now, fingers curled in the front of his shirt, breath ragged. His fingers haven’t stopped moving inside you, but even he can tell it isn’t and won’t be enough. Your hips chase more friction, more him, whimpering into the curve of his neck like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.
"Zanka," You gasp, voice thick and wrecked. "Need you to fuck me. Now."
He stiffens slightly, and when he pulls back to look at you, there’s a flicker of something rare in his usually unreadable eyes, surprise. Sometimes he still gets flustered at how direct you can be. "H—hell. You’re really gone, huh?" He mumbles, ears slightly pink even as he tries to play it cool.
You nod, lips parted, tugging at his belt now. "Please. I can’t think straight. I need you."
He sucks in a breath when your hand slips beneath the waistband of his pants, feeling the heat of him, already hard against your palm. "Tch. Damn it, you're gonna make me lose it too."
You shove him gently but insistently, and he lets you push him down onto the bed. He tries to grab hold of the rhythm, to take charge, but then you’re straddling him again, grinding down and reaching between your thighs to line him up. He curses, trying to keep some control.
"Hey, slow down, I should be the one to—" But the second your hips sink down onto him, tight and desperate, Zanka chokes on a groan. His hands fly to your waist like a lifeline.
"Fuck, you’re…gods—" He bucks up involuntarily, breathing sharp as you start moving, using him to chase every ounce of friction you’ve been aching for since the aphrodisiac hit.
"You feel so good," You moan in relief as your body clamps around him. "So fucking deep."
"Y-You’re gonna kill me," Zanka pants, head falling back, sweat starting to bead at his temple. "Didn’t know you could get like this."
You lean forward to press your lips against his ear. "Only for you."
That seems to snap something in him. One hand slips from your waist to your ass, fingers digging into the flesh; the other finds your jaw, guiding your lips to his again. His kiss is messy, desperate now, like he's the one trying to catch up. And he is—because no matter how much control he usually holds, right now you’ve turned him into the one who's unraveling as you chase your high.
"Shit," He growls, hips starting to thrust up into you—harder now and chasing his high too. "Don’t stop. Fuck, don’t you dare stop."
You take that as an order, bouncing harder and grinding against him as your vision goes hazy, the heat building to a fever pitch. His name falls from your lips again and again until your body finally breaks, slick heat tightening around him like a vise.
That finally pushes him over the edge, the sight of you falling apart on top of him, the desperation, you taking what you want from him. He tries to warn you he’s gonna cum but you don’t stop. He's spilling into you with a shudder and a curse, holding you tight as his fingers find your clit, spurring you along when he feels the tell-tale shake of your thighs. His other hand shoves your shirt up and he’s sucking a nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking the hardened bud as your noises crescendo.
Zanka lets you use him, lets you milk him until he’s tingling with overstimulation. He doesn’t fight what he likes. Your mouth finds his again, and he swallows the gasp you make as your orgasm slams into you, slicking him in your arousal.
The air crackles with afterglow. You collapse on his chest, boneless, breath heaving.
"…You okay?" He asks, voice hoarse. "You’re not gonna try to ride me again, right?"
You giggle weakly against his neck. "Not unless you want me to." The unbearable heat has settled, leaving only the humidity of exertion.
He groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. "You’re gonna be the death of me."
But his hand never stops stroking your back, gentle and grounding. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you cling to him just a little tighter in gratitude.
You lie there for a few slow minutes before you shift again. "Can we shower now?"
"Oh, thank God," He says, already grinning as he helps you up. Your knees wobble; his arm is there, steady as a handrail. "Up you get. I’ve got you."
The tile hisses, steam blooms, and the last of the wrong heat rinses away—leaving the good kind, warm and easy, with his laugh low in your ear.
The Captain for already a long time was an isolated person. Events that took place in Khaenri'ah scarred him deeply for a lifetime. His head was always combusting with past memories or souls that he had to carry. He thought that it would always be like this until you appeared in his dim existence.
You, goddamn you, were brought by Columbina to the Tsaritsa's Palace. The Dove woman explained that you served as her apprentice, sharing a similar lineage and in correlation, carrying familiar characteristics. Small crown-like wings adorning your head like a halo. Coming in pairs, there was also a much bigger set right on your back.
There was also another trait of yours. The one that caught his attention the most and led him down this spiral. Capitano wasn't crude, he already appreciated your teacher's singing, listening to her little concerts or humming from time to time. Even at Signora's funeral, it somehow let everyone take their edge off.
Though, no matter how exquisite, her songs could never heal whatever stirred inside of him. His body managed to change rapidly. All because of the weight of lives he had to carry with himself. His head is a constant mess, never allowed to rest. Or so he thought.
He remembers it like it had happened yesterday. One day he was traversing through corridors of the castle as usual. In his hands there were a few scrolls with orders for the generals, which he was supposed to review, accept and hand over. Everything would have gone on like any other day until he noticed that Columbina's hall had a door creaked open. Immediately stopping in his tracks, papers nearly falling out of his hands as he listened in.
Your voice, literally, angelic-like. The more he listened, the harder it was to pull away. His constantly tensed-up shoulders slowly relaxing. Cries invading his mind turned to soft hums and gentle vibrations.
Capitano couldn't help but take a peek. As if already conspired in his mind, he found you sitting on a divan, chirping your alluring tones. You were having lessons with your mentor. Training your voice to accent and go along with hers.
The only reason he turned away that time was because at some point Damselette, without alarming you, took notice of his presence. Causing him to shoo away like a teenager caught in a compromising action.
After that, this man was never the same again. He started noticing small details about your presence. How you were still stressed out with working for Fatui, at some point it caused you to leave around more feathers than usual. Which he might or might not have pocketed.
That also brought him some worry, though. He started leaving by his soldiers some oils or similar gifts to you. Hoping it would make you feel more welcome and fix the condition of your charming quills. Also, you were already a balm for his soul, you deserved exactly the same.
Another thing that had changed is he took notice of your schedule and Columbina's. Especially times when she wasn't attached to you by the hip.
As he had hoped for, even in your free time you had the tendency to sing your heart out. Once he even caught it when a bunch of Seelies gathered around you to just listen to your tune. You looked like a princess then, oh how he wished he was one of those glowing creatures.
All your training had to come to an end at some point, the Moon Maiden needed to go back to her place of rule. She didn't want you to be at risk by following her, which was a blessing to the man.
Captain, obviously, quickly volunteered to take care of you and so he did. Now just him and his little sparrow. Right by his side, where they won't share their talent with others, won't hurt their feathers or won't leave him..
Hi! I’ve been reading some of your work recently and they’re really good!! idk if you do genshin but i would love a fic on Flins hands being tied while the reader smothers him with affection just to see how long he can endure it for! Nsfw is appreciated only if you’re comfortable <3 thank you!
" can't get enough of me? " . . . 𝝑𝝔 flins can't have his hands off of you even for just a minute, what makes u think he can handle an hour ?! ft. flins x gn! reader (separately)
cw: nsfw content ahead, 18+ only please! kind of bdsm, flins is tied to the bed post, reader is somewhat a switch
synopsis. when the knight falls in love with his prince/ss
wc. 500 ; not proofread, might be ooc!
< main masterlist | genshin masterlist | second masterlist
it was true that flins could not keep himself off of you. not in the weird way, but it was hard for him to not have at least a hand on your shoulder, a hand in yours, an arm around your waist... come on, he needed your touch like a syzygy missing its third moon.
so it only sparked the idea further into your mind―what happens when his trophy is sitting right in front of him and out of his reach?
"nngh, p-please..." flins whispered underneath his breath, words caught in his throat, pretty bug eyes closing shut in waves of euphoria as you kissed along his bare skin. covering his collarbone with marks from your lips; feeling the way your mouth formed a smirk as you continue to peck at his soft skin.
his body shivers as you drag your cold fingertips up his arm, "already so desperate? i haven't even touched you that much..." tease filled your voice like honey dew in its own bear-shaped jar, an adorable grin appeared to dance across your cheeks. god, you never knew what kind of effect you had on him. he loved to see your teeth show, he'd do anything for it to last as long as it could.
"c'mon... never been off you this long, my love." reeling his head back for a moment, his hair was messy unlike the usual polite and proper output he always had on. for the first time in forever, his gaze on you felt shy, flustered, obscene.
another first you observed? the very subtle dust of blush that covered his face like snow on a hill. warm breath falls onto his neck while you laid your head on him, on his shoulder. his bug eyes stared at you, watching your every move with anticipation in what would happen next.
"gonna touch me yet or what, beautiful? gonna make me beg?" he grins, reflecting the mischievousness you had on your face, literally spelling out 'i have something in mind' all over yourself.
your eyes as sweet as a doe's while confiding into his silly request, "maybe..." ―his head tilted at your reply with curiosity, not long before your fingertips were gradually making their way to the obvious tent in his pants. making your boyfriend groan loud at the sudden yet not unwelcomed touch slowly stroking him up and down,
"ohhh, fuck... yeah, jus' like that." he tries to move his wrists on instinct, only for them to stay right where they were as you hummed in satisfaction. he loved feeling you take control of situations like these, it made him fall even more in love with you every single time... not to mention the uncontrollable ache and irresistable desire to grind into your soft hand.
the warmth of your palm only made it even better for him as he kept eye contact with you, watching your little smirk grow with delight―letting you make him writhe under such simple touch, it turned him on. so much so to the point he could not hold back any more of his moans as he felt how good you palming him felt.
rotating his head every time your hand had roamed over the prominent vein that bulged, you'd know it the best anyway. slightly tugging at his waistband now, biting his lip to try and control himself―knowing he couldn't when you'd finally take his aching dick out.
varka brain rot! cw deep throating, praisekink, gagging and mild asphyxiation.
varka covers his mouth with a hand and quivers when you try to fit his entire length into your mouth, groaning when the tip of his hot curved head touches the back of your throat, "fuuuck.." varka breathes, guiding his fingers into your hair when you choke around his heavy cock, his weighty balls slapping your chin. he smirks when he sees your tear stained face, taking the side of your cheek and coaxing you to breathe through your nose. "you're doing so, so good..."
a little more, he thrusts slowly into your tight little throat, savoring in the way you gagged and smothered his entire length up to the base, your nose hitting the faint blonde hairs of his pelvis.
a little goes a long way when he feels you hollow your cheeks and he groans, hips lifting off the leather chair he sits on, trying to chase that hot heat of your velvet mouth.
"almost there...hah..dirty whore..ah.." he seethed, his hand gripping your hair tighter as you whine with need, your thighs squeezing together at the sounds that leave his mouth.
your fingers dig into his thighs , the sheer pressure of his loaded cock smothering your mouth has you crying. varka holds your head firmer as he continues to piston his hips faster, driving his cock deeper into your spasming fuck hole.
"just..like that. ahh.. shit-" varka could finally feel his climax building, "not gonna last darling-" with a gutteral moan, he slams his hips forward hard, burying himself to the hilt of your throat, filling your warm mouth with his hot seed.
"greedy little cum slut," varka gasped between spurts, "milking my cock like you're starving for it." he releases a short laugh.
you try to release his cock from your mouth, before his fingers find your jaw and grips it, "uh uh, swallow." a small embarrassed whine left you before you diligently gulp his spunk.
