crankycave | OMG VD!

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OMG VD!

[Gosh you guys, there must be a holiday on! One of the bigger, more well-lit caves has been decked out for a PARTY, with heart-shaped BALLOONS and also red and white STREAMERS decking the stalactites and shit. There are BUCKETS filled with LITTLE CANDY HEARTS, and there is a FOUNTAIN featuring a rosy-cheeked CUPID who is PEEING PINK LEMONADE into a basin. Also ther are CUPS in case you couldn't tell the LEMONADE was for DRINKING.

Also, everything is HEAVILY SPIKED WITH APHRODISIACS. Eating or drinking the party favors will make you want to MAKE OUT with anyone who gets IN STRIKING DISTANCE. Have fun with that!]

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It's not stupid, you culturally insensitive excuse for a semi-sentient being. ALSO I ALREADY EXPLAINED THAT PART. WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU THINK GENETIC MATERIAL MEANT.

[you lick the blood off your lip and glare at him as well as someone in your position can, which is admittedly not very intimidating as glares go. you think maybe you were premature in thinking you needed a bucket right this minute, but you're going to need one. if this culturally-deficient human doesn't give you the chance to get one, it's going to be-- oh fuck, you can't decide whether that's terrifying or amazing.]

[reaching up to put a hand over his mouth -- the gloves will take the worst of the inevitable bite, won't they?]

Stop yelling! It feels good, doesn't it? Stop trying to be difficult!

You like this, don't you?

[and this is a twist and press with the fingers inside him]

[you try to say I NEED A BUCKET, UNLIKE YOU I AM NOT SO KINKY I'M TRYING EVERYTHING I'VE NEVER SEEN IN PORN BEFORE, but it comes out more of a MMMMPH ARGH MMMMMMMMMPGH against his hand. you get the brilliant idea to just get the damn bucket yourself, you've got teeth and claws and this human doesn't and there's no reason you shouldn't win, but just as you push your hips up to get some leverage he's twisting his fingers down. the combined movement hits something that makes you almost come apart right then and there; you're right there on the edge, one good stroke away coming whether you've got a bucket or not, so close you don't even care about a bucket anymore.

instead of waiting for him, you push up against his fingers again so they hit the same spot. and that's it; you can feel your smaller fronds reflexively tightening around him, and you bite his hand and come.]

[suddenly everything is wet -- wet and RED.

hold up right there.]

--Are you bleeding?

[breathe, you stupid wriggler, remember how to breathe. which is hard, because his hand is still there and so is his weird excuse for a bulge. but you manage!]

Are you stupid? Of course I'm not fucking bleeding! I warned you about the bucket.

[it's hard to sound angry when you've just had a ridiculously good orgasm, even when you're Captain Shoutmaster of the First Regiment of Extremely Loud Motherfuckers.]

--haha, you must be fine, if you can still sound that cranky.

[rocking hips into the suddenly-much-looser grip of those tentacles]

The way you were squeezing before, do that again.

[cranky? cranky? this is the most chill you've sounded in a long, long time! who does this guy expect you to be, Gamzee? whomever he expects you to be, he's still demanding as fuck, isn't he? still, it's probably polite to return the favor-- especially since you feel a lot less like a gelatinous food product made from the hooves of hoofbeasts than you probably should, which you're blaming on that stupid drug-laced candy that started this whole mess. so you oblige him and tighten up, and start stroking him with your fronds again.]

aaahn -- yes --

[there, oh, yes, that's good, that's wonderful, sloppy and wet now and just the right amount of pressure, hips rocking into it, eyes squeezed shut -- hissing through clenched teeth and trying not to make too much noise and coming, shuddering on top of him.]

[wait, it feels like something happened, but it must not have if there's no genetic material everywhere? you hope that's it, anyway, because your bulge is starting to loosen its grip on him and retract regardless. it doesn't go back completely, because those fingers are still inside of you and they're distracting, fuck, but it does let him go.]

...is that it?

[this would probably be a good time to pull out, wouldn't it? and roll off to the side instead of collapsing on top of him, because he'd yell and probably bite]

You are so terrible.

[but having just come makes everything feel pleasant, so there's no heat at all in those words]

I'm terrible?

[you finally figure out where his genetic material is, which is to say it's on you. it's actually the weirdest, weirdest thing about this entire encounter, because does it really count-- and ugh, you aren't even thinking about the fact that you need to clean up your own mess because there were absolutely no buckets involved in that and past Karkat was a stupid, kinky little idiot-- if there's so little of it you have to look to find it?]

I don't even understand how your species hasn't died out yet, because everything about your reproduction is stupid and illogical.

We're not the ones who apparently need some sort of ritual sperm-harvesting apparatus. It sounds to me like you make the process needlessly complicated.

What the fuck is so complicated about it? How else would genetic material get to the mother grub? You're the ones who are weird and needlessly complicated.

Mother grub? Are you some kind of insect?

...OH MY GOG.

I HAD HONESTLY GIVEN YOU HUMANS THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT WHERE CLEARLY I SHOULD HAVE DONE NO SUCH THING, EVER. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CLUE? THE SENSORY APPARATUS ON TOP OF MY HEAD? THE FACT THAT MY PROTEIN CHUTE AND WINDTUBE ARE CHITINOUS, WHICH QUITE FRANKLY SHOULD HAVE BEEN APPARENT WITH HOW FAR YOUR TONGUE WAS IN THERE? THE FACT THAT I HAVE SCARS WHERE MY GRUB LEGS FELL OFF WHEN I PUPATED? LO, I AM IN THE PRESENCE OF A MASTER OF OBSERVATION HERE.

Ah, is that what those rough patches are!

[tugging your shirt up to get a look, okay]

You're the first insect-type person I've encountered. Is it a bloodline limit?

[giving him the side-eye for taking liberties like that, but you're not actually pushing him away. yet.]

WHAT THE FUCK DOES BLOOD HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING? IN FACT, YOU SHOULD SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT BLOOD AND ALL BLOOD RELATED THINGS RIGHT THE FUCK NOW BEFORE I FLY OFF THE FUCKING HANDLE SO HARD AND SO FAR THAT THE HANDLE AND I SHALL NEVER MEET AGAIN.

[you are sort of amazing, you know. it's tempting to start tossing random words at you to see which ones make you explode like that.]

Does that mean you don't want me to answer the question?

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OMG VD!

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