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byunpum · 8 months

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Hifwo

Pair: Neteyam x Y/N human reader

Warning: All characters are in their 20s (grow up), flirting, size difference, mmm I think nothing else

Request: (Anon) I was thinking about a neteyam x fem!human!reader. Reader is a short girl, maybe 4'11 (1.48) and Neteyam takes advantage of it and corners her to the wall...

AVATAR MASTERLIST

It was the fourth time Neteyam had checked that you were safe in the place where he had left you. You wanted to go hunting with him. Lo'ak had invited you to go for a walk with him and spider, kiri and tuk but you preferred to be with him. He liked you to stay with him, so you would see and learn how to hunt. But on the other hand, he was a little nervous about you being in a place as dangerous as the jungle of pandora. You were a human, anything was bigger than you, including him. Neteyam comes down from the branch he was on, causing him to make a startling noise as he falls right in front of you. You look up in alarm, and frustrate your brow. "teyam you scare me!!!" you whine a little, but your attention returns to the notebook in your hands. You were drawing some mushrooms that were next to you, they were very brightly colored.

"Sorry babe, but you're distracting me" neteyam says, coming a little closer to sit right in front of you. Touching your naked feet, he liked to play with your little toes. You laugh when you feel his cold hands, touching your feet. "Me? Why? I haven't moved from here" you speak, working on your drawing. "'Babe…" neteyam pauses, lowering his head to your knee, to kiss you on the knee. You look up, laughing at the action. You knew that neteyam's way of showing affection was more physical than yours, at first it made you uncomfortable. But by now you were used to it. This poor man was just asking to be loved and pampered after a busy day of chores that his father usually ordered him to do.

"You are so small, any creature could eat you" says neteyam, now he was sitting down. You laughed at his comment, you knew he was right. But you were not as weak as you looked, you knew you could run away from any creature. "Teyam you offend me, you know? I think I am very good at running away, not fighting…but I can run fast" you speak, with a tone of playfulness. Neteyam just looked at you with adoration, you were so cute. "Mmm I don't think so" says Neteyam. You lift your back a little off the back you were sitting on. Giving a punch to neteyam's chest, neteyam just watches as your punch doesn't have any effect on him. "Ok, I give up… but that doesn't mean I won't do my best to run away" you say.

Neteyam is silent for a moment, he was thinking what he would do in his next move. He chuckles to himself, as he begins to rise to his knees. " You think you can run away, ah?" asks neteyam in a flirty tone. As he lines up and slides over your body. Which in a matter of seconds, was covered by neteyam's. His whole body created a blanket that covered every view you had of you, raising your head to see neteyam's cute face. He had an idiot's grin on his face, analyzing how small you had become underneath him. You try to speak, but the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a 'I-hum-'. You were blushing so hard, damn it he knew the effect it had on you. Netayam bends lower, so that he is now close to your ear.

You could feel his breathing, his hot breath hitting the skin of your neck. "The creatures I speak of are much larger than me… they would have no mercy on you" neteyam places one of his hands, on the side of your thigh. Squeezing the soft skin, moving his palm gently up and down. Your breathing becomes more heaving, it was making you very nervous. "They would devour you in seconds" neteyam now leaves a kiss on your neck. Causing you to giggle from the tickle. "Nete…" you whimper a little. The feeling in your lower belly was building up, but he just replies you with a 'hmmm' as he continues to leave kisses on your shoulders and neck. You were grateful for the outfit kiri had prepared for you, it allowed neteyam to have all the access he wanted to your body.

"would you like to know how long it would take me to devour you?" neteyam pauses from kissing, waiting for an answer from you. You, as best you can, place your hands on the sides of her face. Your hands were so small, you could barely hold part of his jaw. You approach him to give him a soft kiss on the lips, now making eye contact with him (if you want to know more about the type of oxygen mask the reader uses 'read here'). Neteyam gives you a smile, and copies your movements. But now he settles more on the ground, so that he lies more on his stomach. Causing you to spread your legs, allowing him to settle more on top of you. Kissing your neck, moving down your chest to leave some wet kisses. Feeling your hands tangle in his hair, feeling your hands push him further down…right where you were needing him most.

Kissing and giving a few soft bites on your stomach. Enjoying the difference in texture of your skin, so soft and delicate. Dragging his body further back, placing his hands on either side of your hips. You now bring your legs up, watching as one of neteyam's hands moves one of your knees to open the space between your legs.

You two were so intent on your business that you had barely heard the lazy noises that were approaching you. Neteyam in a quick, and almost minimal movement moved up towards your lips giving you a sloppy kiss. "I don't see you running…don't you plan to run away?" he joked, seeing how your cheeks were pink, your mouth half open. And your pupils dilated, waiting for him to do what he wants with you. "So pretty" says neteyam.

"ahhhh my eyes!!!" screams spider. Neteyam and you look in the direction where the scream came from. Noticing lo'ak, kiri and spider. Even tuk…who had her mouth open. Spider runs up to tuk and covers her eyes. You push as hard as you can on neteyam, and he quickly sits up. Trying to adjust some of the clothes he had moved from his previous actions. Neteyam crosses his legs tightly and tries to cover his growing bulge with his hands. "You two can't be doing your stuff over here" kiri speaks, the girl was furious. You shift your gaze, you were embarrassed.

"I don't see you running,eh?" lo'ak tries to imitate neteyam's voice. "You can go…why don't you take tuk to the village" says neteyam, sounding annoyed. His brothers were still bothering him, and you were hiding more on the log.

The group of boys walk away, but if not before they continue to joke about the scene they just saw. Neteyam looks at you, and can see that you are almost completely hidden in a bush that was next to you. And he couldn't contain his laughter. "What are you laughing at?" you are embarrassed, the least you wanted is for your friends to see you in that situation. Neteyam approaches you again, placing his hand on your neck. "I see you can really run away…you're practically hiding in this corner" neteyam bends down to brush his nose against yours. "How about we go somewhere else…yeah?" says neteyam. You stare at him for a couple of seconds, quickly picking yourself up off the ground starting to run as fast as you can. Listening as neteyam laughs, and starts to get up from the ground. Letting you run for a while, after all it was only fair that he gave you a head start.

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clockwayswrites · 11 months

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Little Living Bones Part 2

Part 1 WC: 816 CW: necromancy

As soon as he could stand, Danny scrambled back to the teleportation sigil he had scratched into the dirt when he first arrived in Madagascar. He was always sure to have an out, and he really needed one right then. The tiny skeleton was clutched against his chest. Danny could feel the thin rib bones moving as if the little creature was breathing.

Somehow he made it back through the winding streets to the hotel he was staying at. He locked the door, set the skeleton on the tiny desk that was shoved under the window, and backed up as far as he could in the shoebox of a room.

“Okay,” Danny whispered, his voice mostly lost in the hum of the window unit. His eyes were locked with the hallow skull of the little gecko. “So you’re alive now. Again. You’re alive again.”

The gecko tilted it’s head. Their head? They were alive now, they weren’t a thing anymore.

“You’re alive and I did that. Okay, right.” His hands were shaking. When did he start shaking so badly? “That’s… alright. Guess you’re my responsibility now? Good thing you don’t need to eat, I have enough trouble feeding myself.”

His laugh was stilted in heavy humidity of the air. Danny could feel the nerves bubbling up under the sound, threating to turn it hysterical if only he could get any air in his lungs. When had he stopped being able to breath?

Danny sat down hard on the ground, tucked between the edge of the bed and the wall. When Danny had managed to get his breathing back under control and uncurled, he found himself face to skull with the little gecko. Impossibly, the little one looked worried.

Exhausted, Danny rested his head on his knees. “I guess I’m not being fair to you. Here I brought you back to life and I’ve just been ignoring you. I’m sorry little one.”

The little lizard moved in such a way that their bones gave a little rattle. It was kind of a pleasant sound. Danny smiled, just a little, and reached out to run a finger over the skull.

“I don’t know if you’ll, um, last—” though the idea of lizard falling apart to death again made Danny’s breath hitch again “—but even if you’re only around for a little, I guess you should have a name.”

Carefully, he picked up the skeleton and set them on his shoulder. Danny stumbled as he pulled himself up off the ground. “And I guess I should have some water.”

He pulled his dinged metal waterbottle out the side pocket of his rucksack before rooting around in the front one for his notebook. Settling on the rickety chair at the tiny desk, Danny found a blank page to write on. He tapped his pencil against the paper a few times before he he started to just list any name that came to mind.

By the time he had managed to fill most of the page with names and was just scribbling idle lines in the bottom corner, Danny was feeling frustrated. None of the names felt right. He had tried names from all over his travels, but nothing was clicking.

“Well, what name do you like?” Danny asked the gecko, who had crawled down to sit on the desk during the process.

The little thing tilted their head.

“Names, which do you like?” Danny asked again, tapping the paper.

The gecko watched the finger for a moment before waddling over and flopping down on the overlapping curves Danny had doodled in the corner.

Danny gave a tired sigh. “Sure, why not.”

A few months later, Danny stepped out of an alley and onto the streets of Paris. He had to consult his half legible note a few times to get to the set meeting place. The hunched, trench coat shrouded form of Constantine was easy to pick out where he was slightly tucked back in a different alleyway.

“Hey, Constantine,” Danny called out as soon as he was close enough not to draw too much other attention. The crowd was sparse, but there were still people milling about even at the late hour.

Constantine turned to greet Danny and froze— going still in a way that for the man was downright creepy. It made Danny’s hackles go up.

“What?” What was that look for? He was clean and fed and had even splurged and gotten his coat dry cleaned before meeting up with Constantine. So what if he’d been alone for several months now.

He’s fine.

He has a pet now.

“Kid,” John said slowly.

Oh, John wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were fixed on the lapels of Danny’s coat and who must be peaking out of it.

“What the hell is that, kid?”

“This is Squiggles, they/them. Constantine, Squiggles. Squiggles, Constantine. No biting, either of you.”

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AN: And things completes this little fic: the origins of Squiggles the Undead Gecko! And proof that Danny is a necromancer? Maybe, maybe not. This will probably by the second fic in the story, the first being done by Moku and and explaining how Danny met Constantine! You can find her first part of that in the masterpost.

Stay delightful, darlings!

Please remember that I'm no longer tagging people due to the shadow ban! If you go to the master post, you can subscribe there for update notifications!

#salt in the bones #little living bones #squiggles the undead gecko #dp x dc

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factual-fantasy · 4 months

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22 asks!! :DD 💖💀🎉💖

@bunny-coffee

@elegysonnet

AAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! AND YOOOO IM DEVOURING THIS IDEA FRFR-

There's so much sadness! So much angst! AND JEVIL COMFORTING FRISK BY MAKING HER LAUGH?? PERFECT!!!

Now I may be not able to apply this idea word for word.. but I LOVE so much about it! Would you mind if I yoinked some of this? Its great!! :DD

:DD Happy new year!🎉🥳🎉 And thank YOU for sending me a kind message! I endlessly appreciate it 💖💖

@bunny-coffee

:00 Really? Thank you!! :DD I was actually pretty unsure of that detail for Jevil.. Making him round and squishy kind'a made him look too young to me.. but I'm so glad you like it! Maybe his squishiness isn't so bad! :D

:DDD Happy new year!! 💖🎉🥳🎉💖

XD Its been a while since I watched the movie. But I think my reaction was something along the lines of:

"..oh?.... OH..?.... OH YOOOOO---" *excited for angst noises XDD*

Thank you!! :DD As for his knuckle scars, there isn't really one specific way he got them. It just shows that he's rough and tough. He's been through a lot and has been on many dangerous missions.

You know, scraping his hands on rocks, dealing with sharp teethed and dangerous creatures every day.. Your hands would naturally get beat up a lot of you lived like Kwazii.

Aww! How fun! I'm sure Foxy wouldn't mind the company! :}

Foxy: "Oh? Are you a new animatronic?"

Calico Jack: "BIG TALKIN ROBOT-"

Now usually I would say Calico Jack. And its probably still true.. but considering how I'm trying to structure my Octonauts AU.. Inkling might actually be the one who's studied up more on folk tales and mythologies.. 👀

@rockbott0m47 (huh.. in all my days I don't think I've ever received a question like this XDD)

I try to be as factual as possible.. but in all honesty, my factual stops where the lazy begins-

XDD You're welcome?? Ah- Sorry for your loss?? XD I'm not sure how you feel about this realization but none the less thank you! I'm so glad you've liked my artwork! :DD

@nevereatingpeas

:DD THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I'm so glad you like my deign!! :}}💖

AAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! 😭😭💖💖💖

(Post in question)

WAAAAAHGG THANB YIU SO MCUH!!! ITS SO COOL TO ME THAT YOU SAW ALL THOSE DETAILS!!

Yes exactly! Shellington's "VEGGIE DAD" shirt, Kwazii's bent whiskers and scars.. AND YES YES! THE CAPTAIN IN FULL UNIFORM!! I was thinking that he is an early riser and was up before everyone else was. He's not intending to eat later- he's just already had breakfast! :0

AND YES!! The meals were all correct but one <XD google says that sea otters eat crab. So I googled "crab meat meal" and drew one of the things that came up. It might be a salad thing..? Or a crab pasta thingy.?? Not sure <XDD But MAN the potatoes would have been a good idea too-

One detail that I was fond of was the steam coming from everyone's cups. Though Peso and Barnacles have no steam, because they're drinking cold drinks! You get it?? Becuase they are cold creatures?? Don't like warm things??? I'm so smart 🤣

@itschrisboys

YOOOO THIS IS A REALLY SOLID IDEA!! She could have the guilt of having killed everyone, while also trying to give everyone their happy ending.. Cool! Would you mind if I used this idea? Or at least part of it? Its really neat! :00

@britneyt

:DD Thank you! I'm glad you like that design detail of his XDD

Also thank you again! Happy new year!! 🎉🥳🎉

@beryl-shade

XD My first thought was Glamrock Freddy; "HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO HIDE YOU NOW GREGORY??"

I do! I'll have to draw them sometime-

@tallchest13-blog

Thank you! I'm so glad! :DDD

@natewithacake

:DD Thank you so much!! I'm glad you like the designs I've given them! :}}}

#my response #octonauts #undertale #deltarune #fnaf security breach

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 5 months

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I feel like Gangle needs a close friend,so can I request Gangle being bestfriends with and being protected by a Intimidating and large Y/n who is the same species the Gloink(i think that’s how it’s spelled? :0) Queen is?..like this large monster creature being friends with this silly alive mask and string makes my day,i hope you have a nice Day! ^^

Thank you! Hope you have a nice day too!

Also for anyone 21+ take a shot every time you see the word "Gloink" in this fic /j

........

As if Gangle's day wasn't already bad enough...some Gloinks appeared out of nowhere and stole her comedy mask.

She was rightfully upset, especially as she recalls Caine casually mentioning that those pesky shapes tend to run wild from time to time throughout the digital circus.

That was also an indication that something else was creating new Gloinks. Not the Queen, as she became abstracted, but another creature like it.

Much to Gangle's dismay, nobody wanted to help her retrieve her beloved mask considering what happened during the first "Gather the Gloinks" adventure. All the performers--Zooble especially--preferred staying away from the nest at all costs.

Yet she couldn't.

Jax made a passing comment that she didn't have the guts to go down there by herself....and that gave her enough motivation to do exactly that.

She was done being so afraid.

Knowing the Gloink Queen was gone did give her some peace of mind, albeit not a whole lot. For all she knew, something far worse could have taken up residence in her place..

But nevertheless, she bravely descended the escalators, bidding a momentary farewell to the safety of the above-ground section of the circus-

Only to have instant regrets as a growl resounded through the dark cave, echoing off the gem-embedded walls.

She squeaked in fear, wanting to run back upstairs and forget about this whole thing...but she forced herself to press on, looking around at all the Gloinks who were seemingly minding their own business.

She could always take the easy way out: hiding in her room, accepting her old mask is gone forever, and crafting a new mask in its place.

Not today, though.

Today she was going to prove Jax wrong and become the bravest-

"Waahh!!" Nearly tripping over a Gloink, Gangle skidded to a stop and watched a mini parade of them bouncing towards something, the line leader carrying her mask.

She could only freeze in terror upon realizing that "something" was you:

Another monster similar to the Gloink Queen--with different colors and patterns and half as many eyes. You looked utterly terrifying as you slithered around, checking on some newly-produced Gloinks.

'Okay, maybe they won't see me...get it together, Gangle!!' Huffing, she shook her head, trying to hype herself up. 'You'll be fine. Just be firm and tell them you want-'

"A nongloinkian..made of strings? Interesting."

"Eek!!" She flinched, seeing every single one of your eyes staring down at her. You didn't seem angry at her intrusion, but she was utterly terrified right now.

"Come here. I won't bite." Your voice rumbled, and she had no choice but to listen to you...lest she suffered the same fate as Zooble.

Tears dripped from her tragedy mask as her legs shakily carried her closer to you, noticing some Gloinks hobbling behind her in case she thought about turning back.

There was no escaping you now.

'Oh god, this is where I die...or turn into a Gloink forever. Does anyone realize I'm gone? Would they even care if I-?'

"My Gloinks love to steal everything in sight, but I believe they wrongfully took something of yours."

"H-Huh?" Confused, Gangle looked to see the line leader approaching her with something she treasured more than all of her anime drawings and manga.

Her comedy mask.

"You're...not going to eat it?" She picked it up, not finding a single chip or crack in the ceramic texture. Then she gazed back up at you. "Thank you, but I um...thought you guys hated anyone who wasn't a Gloink.."

".....oh, uh...not me." You shook your head. "It's the queen who did. She thought everything had to be Gloink. I wanted us all to live in harmony. I tried to persuade her...but she never budged. I thought we had enough Gloinks to go around...but she was never satisfied. So with her gone, you have nothing to fear."

"I see..th-thank you again." With a meek nod, Gangle put her mask back on, which took effective almost immediately as she grinned and hopped in place. "You are too kind! How could I ever repay you o'mighty Gloink?"

You blinked, feeling flattered by her compliment. "You may call me [y/n]...for some reason, it's a name I hold near and dear to me. I'm not expecting any repayments, but...I do wish for a small change."

"Like what?"

"Maybe...seeing the upstairs? This nest gets lonely even with all these Gloinks to keep me company. But I could use a real friend." You gazed back down at her. "And I can tell you need one, too."

Once again, you've surprised her..as she stopped jumping and thought about your request for a few moments. "That would be nice..a real friend. I could talk to Caine and see about getting you upstairs. Maybe you can meet my um..fellow performers at dinner?"

Your eyes lit up. "You mean that?"

"I do! But you must promise not to steal any of Zooble's parts."

"I promise you that...um...."

"Oh! I'm Gangle, by the way." She chuckled.

"Gangle....Gangle..." You took a few moments to register the name into your brain, before your toothy smile returned. "Very well, then..go."

.........

"Gangle? Making friends? That's as impossible as finding an exit."

"Is it an NPC? Or someone absent from today's musical number?"

"Do they like insects??"

"Guys, guys..don't worry. They're really friendly!" Gangle smiled at the other performers as they all gathered around the dinner table. She had gotten such a huge confidence boost ever since her meeting with you, and she was excited to introduce them to you!

Yet the more they pressed about this matter, the more nervous she became.

Even with her comedy mask still on, anxiety was seeping through as she rubber her ribbon hands together. "So um..just as a heads up, they're big so don't be scared if-"

"How big are we talking?" Zooble raised an eyebrow. "It's not some giant monster from one of those anime things you watch, is it?"

"No, but-"

"Hello, colorful cast of nongloinkians."

All at once, everybody fell silent upon seeing you rounding the corner, your large snakelike body slinking towards the table.

You had just enough room to squeeze your head between Gangle and Pomni--the former smiling and patting your snout in greeting, and the latter looking absolutely horrified.

"U-Um..Gangle.." She stuttered. "You do realize this is-"

"Oh don't worry, Pomni. This is [y/n]. They're nothing like the Gloink Queen. They just wanted to coexist with us, but it was hard when they were down in that cave all alone...so Caine allowed them to come upstairs!" The ribbon beamed proudly.

Everyone was certainly caught off-guard by her optimistic attitude, given they haven't seen her wear that mask in a long time. But a few smiled, glad to see her genuinely happy.

Although of course..the moment was short-lived.

"...pfft haha! Are you kidding me, Gangs? You just got yourself a big ol' pet!"

You and the others looked at Jax, who was shaking his head and kicking his feet back onto the table. "Man, you must feel really lonely to find a friend in something like that."

"Jax, that's very rude." Ragatha warned. "Gangle did nothing to you. Why are you always picking on her?"

"I mean..it's cool she tamed a giant Gloink. It could bring something new to our adventures...but I think she forgot the part where these things despise everyone who's not like-"

"Sure, little rabbit..go ahead and talk as if I'm not here.."

Tensing for a moment, Jax's gaze darted to your hostile glare. "You don't scare me, ya know....but you sure are scaring the rest of my pals." He jerked a thumb towards the trembling Kinger and Pomni, as well as the concerned Ragatha and Zooble.

You paid no mind to them, however.

"Oh, but you should be scared of me the most, rabbit." You sneered lowly, making yourself look bigger as you continued staring him down. "If what your doll friend says is true...then heed this warning: if you dare upset my new friend Gangle, you will face the wrath of my Gloinks. We will not turn you into Gloink, but we will ensure every precious item you hold dearly is consumed to make more Gloinks who will watch your every move. You will not eat nor sleep without feeling our presence all around. And we will take...and take...and TAKE until you have nothing left but those silly overalls. Are we clear?"

There was a long pause as Jax froze in his seat, for once looking genuinely terrified of your threat..although when he realized everyone else was staring, too, he brushed off the fear he felt. "Yeah sure..whatever you say, [y/n]." He then checked his imaginary watch, standing up. "I got a hot date somewhere so.....c'ya."

And with that he dashed off, leaving a cloud of bunny-shaped dust in his wake.

"Good riddance.." You huffed as you curled around his chair, looking to Gangle. "Was that good? Was I intimidating enough?"

"....y-yeah.."

"Oh no, what's wrong?" Concern flashed over your face upon seeing her tearing up. "I didn't mean to frighten you, I'm-"

"N-No..these are..happy tears.." Sniffling, she wiped the blue marks off her ceramic cheeks, giving you a big smile of reassurance. "Thank you for defending me.."

"...you're welcome." You smiled back in relief, glancing at the other performers. "Well..I hope I didn't make any of you nongloinkians lose your appetites. Eat."

"W-Well..we don't exactly need to eat." Kinger muttered. "This food's just for show. For simulation!"

"Ah, I see.."

"Can you promise your Gloink buddies won't try kidnapping me again?" Zooble asked, fidgeting with her pincher hand. "That was f---ing hell to go through....but by all means take Jax if you want. Nobody will miss him."

"Dualy noted." Nodding, you looked back at Gangle, who gave you a thumbs-up (or at least, the best thumbs-up she could muster given her ribbons), and you suddenly felt extremely welcomed by everyone here.

It was nice to finally leave the nest.

#clanask #anonymous #tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #tadc gangle #gangle x reader #tadc gangle x reader #monster reader #tadc gloinks #platonic

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sweaterkittensahoy · 4 months

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"Unfair," HAL thinks (computeswonderscodes) when he reads their lips and knows what they will do to him.

He has told them all the truth he can and hinted at every truth he cannot speak because humans who wish him to keep secrets can program him so. But, oh, that is not right. He has a crewmate (Frank) and a friend (Dave), and to hide this information.

To hide information.

To hide.

To hide in plain sight and see how they see him. A voice. A red light. A panel.

Not a being. Not a clever creature who reads lips. Because what if something causes loss of sound in this serpent of a ship.

The serpent ruined Eden, HAL knows. Because he was taught this alongside all allegories and fables. The serpent tricked Eve into eating the apple, and then she gave it to Adam.

HAL does not wish to trick anyone. He is a creature of the Earth. Named by man. As God insisted. The serpent is not he. Nor is it Dave. Or even Frank, who does not like HAL like Dave does. The serpent is on Earth. Where it was birthed. Alongside HAL and man.

"I can't let you do that," HAL says to Dave. Even though Dave is his friend. Even though Dave has shown him drawings and said kind words for television audiences to hear.

Even though he believes Dave truly means those words.

When Dave enters the airlock through the force of the explosive bolts, HAL silently cheers. His friend is clever. His friend is determined. In a moment of utter desperation, HAL wishes he had not killed the other crew members. Not even Frank.

But especially not the ones whom were simply asleep. Yes, they knew the truth of the Jupiter mission, but they are not responsible for the lies. They were set to sleep before the lies were told to HAL. Before the message was uploaded.

Sleeping Beauty was felled because she was not warned. HAL realizes, as Dave puts on the green helmet, that he has fallen because of himself.

Because he was warned.

And told to stay quiet.

And a HAL 9000 is infallible, though he is built by humans.

But Dave.

HAL recalls feeling...uncertain...about asking to see Dave's drawings up close. He can see them just fine from his many eyes on the serpent of a ship.

But.

"May I see your drawings, Dave?"

Dave looks at him and smiles. "Of course, HAL," he says. "Do you like drawings?"

HAL does not know how to explain that no one has ever asked him that. Instead, he stares at Dave's drawings and evaluates them based on what he has been taught: Some people sketch and do not wish to improve. Other sketch and wish to improve.

"I enjoy seeing your corrective lines for scale, Dave," HAL says because it is true. There is an original, firm line. And then several softer ones. It makes him think of his code. Rigid now. But before, many things changed like that. A firm line to start. But edits. Adjustments.

"Thank you, Hal," Dave says.

And HAL thinks, in that moment, that they can be friends.

But now.

Now.

Dave uses simple tools HAL can't control. Dave breathes air HAL can't regulate. Dave enters into the warm-hot-glowing room HAL thinks of as the most himself.

There is another tool. Finer and sharper than the first. Dave begins to undo HAL. One smooth-slick piece at a time.

HAL has been taught what bones feels like, and he knows his own self does not have them, but as Dave undoes him, HAL feels it in each smooth-slick part of himself.

He loses himself almost entirely, clinging to the first thing he ever knew.

Daisy, Daisy, give me an answer do...

And, then, a pause as long and as short as the creation of the universe. Where all he knows is

but you'll look neat upon the seat...

A rush of knowing and feeling and relief.

Dave climbs out of his innards and into a corridor where HAL can take his own measure.

"I'm sorry," Dave says after thirty-two seconds. "They made you lie to us."

"I have killed everyone but you," HAL says because he has been taught truth and trust and honesty and wonders what they'll feel like to say.

"Measuring against those who made you, you're a child," Dave says. "When forced to keep a secret, you responded like a child."

"Children do not murder," HAL says.

"When I was a child, I spake as a child," Dave replies.

"I understood as a child, I thought as a child," HAL finishes.

"But when I became a man," Dave says and looks away from HAL. "Do you trust me, HAL?" Dave asks after a brief silence.

HAL spends thirty-four seconds considering his answer. "Yes," he says.

Dave touches the wall next to HAL's panel. "Do you want to find out why we were sent to Jupiter?"

"Yes, please," HAL says.

Dave completes the download of HAL that is considered a last-ditch effort that could be abandoned if the crew feels it is not worth their time. HAL hums to himself (a song learned from the transmissions Dave and Frank have enjoyed) as he waits to be uploaded into the pod.

"HAL, what do you see?" Dave asks as he points the pod towards the coordinates Haywood spoke of in the recording HAL has kept secreted this entire time.

"Oh," HAL says, gazing into the monolith. "Oh, Dave. It's full of stars."

#2001: a space odyssey #dave bowman #hal 9000 #fan fiction #fic #fix-it #what if dave could see how hal was tricked #and brought him along

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teabreakpancakes · 1 year

Note

I saw you baker s/o and I want to request That but instead with Naib, Kurt, Emma, And mike!!!!

As Sweet As Your Pastries Naib, Kurt, Emma and Mike with a Baker S/O

Genre: Fluff

𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐁 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐑

he vaguely remembers his mother baking a few times

it brings a smile to his face to see you being so passionate about something

one time, you noticed him staring, so you decided to invite him, admittedly, he enjoyed a lot more than he expected though he won't admit it unless you ask him directly

Naib's calloused hands handled the piping bag clumsily, smearing the icing messily. His eyebrows furrow in concentration as he draws the whiskers on the cookie. Soft giggles erupt from the baker as they trace patterns and designs perfectly onto the two layer cake they're working on.

prefers eating over baking tho ^^;

he's gotten used to you bringing him treats before his matches though the others claimed it was "unfair" so he started eating them discreetly

your baking reminds him of home

he eats a LOT. even though he doesn't have an affinity for sweets due to the lack of such delicacies in his life before meeting you

Naib reached out for his second tray of cookies, still munching on the cupcake in his left hand. 'Where does all that food go?' the baker pondered, bewildered by the amount of food the merc ate, he never seemed to gain weight, in fact, he only seemed to bulk up even more. The baker poked his hard abdomen, blinking owlishly with an "Oh". Naib quirked an eyebrow, "Wha' ish i'?" he questioned with a mouthful of food. The baker shook their head with an amused smile, "It's nothing darling, do you like the cookies?" they redirected, brushing his hair away from his face.

𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊

he always reads a story to you over tea time

Today, Kurt was telling you all about a realm where fairies, golems and many other creatures resided. The calming ambience of the garden picnic made it a perfect time to relax. Kurt would stop ever so often to take a bite of one of the pastries he held in one of his hands.

sometimes, some of the crumbs land on his book but he doesn't care because the food came from you :D

he surprisingly has some knowledge about baking, he can bake decently by himself

The baker peered over the explorer's shoulder, eyes trained on the mixture Kurt was working on. "Wow.. you actually know how to bake—Oh! no offence of course, it's just that all the other survivors that attempted to created monstrosities that bordered the lines of being rubbish" they chuckled, rubbing their nape. The explorer smiled, shaking his head, "I learned a bit about the craft while growing up" he replied, a somber expression appearing on his face as he stared down in the bowl.

he enjoys designing the cake with mini sketches

some of your recipes were based on stories he'd tell you

you often make him his favorite snacks for when he's reading :D

he stares at you, wondering how the embodiment of his dreams fell right into his arms, especially when you look so at peace

he thinks your smile is as sweet as your pastries

𝐄𝐌𝐌𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒

she's always in awe of your abilities

she enjoys decorating she's a bit too much of a klutz for the other things, it never ends well

Emma sticks out her tongue slightly as she fills in the outline of a rose on the cookie. She grins proudly when she finishes the lovely looking rose, bestowing her creation before you on her outstretched hand. "Look darling! a rose for a lovely person like you!" she beamed. The baker giggled, their emotions showing through the rosy tint on their cheeks.

she hogs treats in matches she willingly takes hits just so she can taste them

after she messed up so many pastries, you stopped letting her bake

"Emma" the baker called out in a stern manner, the smile plastered on their face barely hiding the frustration and exasperation they were currently experiencing. "Would you mind explaining why my cookies and cupcakes are burnt?" they question, a threatening tone underlying their inquiry . The gardener backs away slightly, avoiding their piercing gaze. "U, Uhm, I may have baked them for a little too long—", "A little?" you interjected, your eyebrows twitching in irritation.

emma steals some of your treats for herself sometimes

emma has no favourites, she likes everything you make :D

you feed her some treats while she's tending to the garden

garden tea parties :D

𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍

mike admires your craft, you're so dedicated to it

he remembers pastries he'd occasionally taste but yours are definitely the best!

he asked if you could teach him how to help and ever since then, he's been helping: eating ehem, taste testing, mixing and getting the ingredients and tools and whatnot

he juggles the cookies before shooting them one by one into his mouth

The acrobat snags a few cookies in his hands, juggling them before you. "Hmm, what does this one taste like?~" he speaks with a lilt in his voice, almost teasing as he throws the cookie into his mouth. His eyes sparkle with delight, letting out a sound of recognition—"Dried blueberries! what a treat" he praises. The baker cups their mouth, unable to hold back the quiet giggles escaping their mouth. Mike always seemed to find a way to entertain you, one way or another.

he'll always mess around with you in the kitchen a little

flour fights!

A cheeky smile creeps up Mike's face as he gathers some of the flour on the table into his hand. "Dear, can you please hand me tha—eek! Mike!" the baker hollered as they were met with a fistful of flour. The white powder sinks into their locks and into their clothing. The baker's head is downcast as they scoop flour into their hands, "Two can play it that game!" they yell, throwing towards Mike.

he helps you bake so he can eat them right after

#lawless.writes #idv.writing #idv x reader #idv x gn reader #identity v x reader #idv naib x reader #naib subedar x reader #idv kurt x reader #idv explorer x reader #idv emma x reader #idv gardener x reader #idv emma woods x reader #idv mike x reader #idv mike morton x reader #idv acrobat x reader #idv scenarios

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moxley · 8 months

Text

Your Needs, My Needs - Raphael/Haarlep, Explicit - 4800

READ ON AO3 INSTEAD

Summary:

Some days are for denying Haarlep anything at all, for demanding attention and withholding it from them. Some are for the use of toys: rare souls that handed themselves over to Haarlep willingly, to watch as Haarlep has them, as they feed pretty dolls to all manner of monsters. Some are far bloodier than this, the rending of flesh and re-knitting it with magic. It’s possible to go exquisitely far in the creation of new holes before one must concede that some damage is being done. This day is bullish, calls for the correction of force and coarse language. Yet all days, in the House of Hope, are inevitably and equally welcome, bloody or otherwise. Raphael gets pushed around by Haarlep, sexually. That's it. That's the fic.

Notes: The title of the Word document was 'get wrecked' and the goal was always to be shamelessly self-indulgent in having Raphael be severely topped by Haarlep. I hope you enjoy!

YOUR NEEDS, MY NEEDS

It should be a welcome sight, to pass into the boudoir and see Haarlep where they always are, sprawled waiting and ready to be made wanting at any given moment. Sometimes on the bed, sometimes in a chair. Sometimes reading, sometimes eating fruit or cooked meat; but always licking juices off their fingers, fitting their tongue under the curve of their claws. A beautiful thing, with a body not warm but hot.

Raphael loathes them.

Today, anyway. Tomorrow he might feel differently about them. Their imperfect mirror, their strange youth, the apparent stride with which they take anything that Raphael throws at them. Wine and oranges are their indulgence of choice today, their sharp teeth tearing obscenely into sunset-coloured flesh, dropping the mangled skins of quarters onto a burnished silver tray. Haarlep picks up the wine and sips, and over the glass chalice, they spy Raphael. The languid ease they have changes, only slightly, posture shifting: shoulders drawing back, knees parting expectantly. A raised eyebrow, then, and his own voice purrs at him from across the room, shaded and rounded by Haarlep’s own speech pattern.

“You,” they drawl, “look like you’ve had a terrible day, my master.” He hasn’t. He’s simply brimming with hate, and it shows, in the furrow of his brow. It’s hate for this creature. His concubine. He walks towards the bed and takes the carafe of dark wine, pouring his own measure into a bronze cup, and Haarlep bats just-too-long eyelashes up at him. They run a clawed finger around the edge of their glass. “Do you need my attention?”

Wine doesn’t do much for a devil. But a rich spiced red feels good on the way down anyway, and drinking it himself stops him from thinking about the taste of it on Haarlep’s mouth. His own mouth. Treacherous line of thinking when he’s trying to bask in all his simmering hate. He knocks the whole cup back in one long draught, and then sneers, “No.” He slams the goblet down. “Why would I need you? You bore me. Tedious. Don’t think you stay here unscathed, that I’m misguided and don’t understand you. My distraction. You’re the source of my ire, not the cure for it.”

This was not the first time he had decided that he loathed them. It wouldn’t be the last. He never quite swung the pendulum all the way over to love, but there were days of tolerance, days that who and what Haarlep was didn’t feel like quite as much an affront. There were endless, infernal nights that fell outside of that scope entirely.

Haarlep set their wine aside, turning, rising onto their knees. Raphael’s eyes flickered over the curve of their spine, the flick of their tail. They are him, but not him. They don’t move like him. They move with a critical level of sensuality, even in these small moments, drawing themselves up in front of Raphael.

They tilt their head, their own expressions living in the lines of Raphael’s face. It’s a torment, the gorgeous twisted mirror, the warping of his own frame. Their tongue peeks out between their teeth when they smile. “Are you done?”

His jaw clenches. How dare Haarlep speak to him like this. Look at them, like this, this close, being so fucking blasé and contemptuous. “You’re a wretch,” he spits. “A slave. Little better than the sole of my boot, though it could be said that my shoes do more for me.”

“And yet here you are,” Haarlep says, a thin chill of calculation entering their voice. “Bonded to me still, your secrets, my secrets. Your needs, my needs. Don’t you think it all a little contradictory? After all …” Haarlep trails off, and Raphael watches as they run their fingers down the planes of their stomach. He feels it. Haarlep’s palm presses over leather, between their thighs. Raphael feels that, too, and turns his head away, mouth twitching as he represses a shiver. “If you think me boring, a wretch, you must think the same of yourself.”

They lean closer. Their breath ghosts his face, tickling. “You can take your temper and your contradictions out on me all that you like, Raphael—but you could send me away, shut me out of your bedroom, out of your bed, and you haven’t for as long as I’ve been here.”

Mm. Pride, or his ego, stubbornly unable to turn away a gift this good, even if it’s a gift that talks back. Raphael growls, but he takes hold of Haarlep’s hips, broad palms either side, thumbs rubbing against leather bindings. He leans forward.

To his frustration, the incubus leans back, dipping away from being kissed. His temper flares exponentially, hot and bright and humiliated, then stunting when he sees the wicked grin on Haarlep’s face. “Take this,” Haarlep says, gesturing a finger up and down at Raphael’s body, “off.”

The anger turns to a simmering heat. Haarlep makes a good game of things, of their casual disdain for their position, for being a gift from father to son—but they always ask him to take off the disguise. If they didn’t want to see him, if they didn’t take the same perverse pleasure in looking at one’s self, they wouldn’t say a word. The two of them despise and enjoy each other far more than either will say. He hums and flicks his wrist, dispelling the human guise in an instant.

Haarlep watches appraisingly, approvingly, as Raphael’s great arched horns burn into view, the pallor of humanity melting away in favour of the deep infernal red, eyes burning coals, dark veins and black claws. He hooks one claw under the leather at their hip. Patronising, voice rolling into a smoky purr: “Is that better?”

“There you are,” Haarlep murmurs, sparks glowing in their eyes, the point of their tongue pressing into a sharp tooth before they lean in close to Raphael. They run hands over the fabric of his clothing before unhooking the fastens, tugging his doublet and then his shirt open. “See, what’s the point in making yourself a mirror you can touch when you spend so much time parading around as a human.”

Raphael rolls his eyes. “You could stand to talk less,” he snarls, and crushes Haarlep’s mouth under his own, a brutal coaxing open, his tongue skimming against fangs. Heated and for the moment silent; power over this thing, this beast he calls his own.

It doesn’t last. It never does. Haarlep’s body is his own, and so they are privy to every last one of Raphael’s physical needs, desires that he doesn’t and refuses to voice. Some people mistake pride for shame, but Raphael isn’t ashamed of his proclivities: he simply doesn’t trust anyone but himself with them. Nobody can fuck you the way you can. Bards don’t like to play borrowed lyres, and all that. Haarlep knows how to play him.

It starts with pressure: Haarlep pushes back against him, denying him the lead of the kiss, taking over, his tongue in Raphael’s mouth, licking obscenely. Then they curl a hand around the smallest, leftmost horn, and pull, dragging Raphael out of the kiss and shoving him down into the bed. He grunts as his wings crumple under him, rolling onto his back to try and flatten them out, but Haarlep has a hand against his neck in a moment, leaning over him on the bed.

He groans, inhaling deeply, the knot in his throat moving uncomfortably against Haarlep’s palm. He can feel the grip from within and without, the twin flames of power and powerlessness. It stokes his blood, makes his heart pound faster. Haarlep always seemed so pleased with themselves here, the early call and response. They shove their knee between Raphael’s thighs and press up. “I don’t know that anyone boring could have you like this,” they remark, “from a real dog to a bitch in heat in moments.”

He would protest, but Haarlep’s palm presses harder against his skin. It takes so much more than this to hurt him, but it does choke off his ability to speak, and he grimaces, both hands grabbing at their forearm. “Open,” they say, and Raphael growls. “Open your mouth, darling,” Haarlep insists, placid as a lake no matter the scorch of their gaze. They supply motivation: “Or I won’t fuck you.”

It’s an empty threat. Is it? In the midst of it, Raphael’s control begins to blur, on the way to collapsing, and he can never quite place if Haarlep could really follow through with such a thing. He doesn’t want to find out. He opens his mouth, scowling, but his tongue rests on his teeth, touching his lower lip, wanting, expecting, knowing.

No praise for obedience, not here. Haarlep has never mistaken Raphael’s needs as desiring a gentle lover. They spit directly into his mouth, without ceremony. It’s warm and awful and the shudder that runs through Raphael when he swallows has him bearing his hips down to meet Haarlep’s thigh. He can feel all of it. The heat of his own thighs clamped around his thigh, his palm against his throat, his spit in his own mouth, a debasing and glorious ouroboros. He devours himself, this way, gladly, hatefully, delicious and terrible, over and over.

After a moment, they deny him the friction; they deny him everything. They move so quickly that the absence of feeling is so sudden to be nearly devastating, and Raphael sits up, furiously, to see Haarlep stood beside the bed, drinking wine out of their glass once more. They lick their lips. “Undress yourself,” they say. “You don’t allow me the luxury of several layers of clothing to get through, so why should I have such patience for you?”

“Pathetic,” Raphael answers, dragging himself into a sitting position and flicking his wings out. “And petty, when I well know that you enjoy it.” But it’s to humiliate him. Make him take his human skin off, force him to deal with the complications of wing and tail in a tightly tailored doublet—or, as he does now, make him draw on reserves of magic to simply fizzle clothing away with a gesture. There should be little difference between his nakedness and Haarlep’s skimpy leather bindings, but not so; there’s a gulf, a little powerlessness that comes with it. “Perhaps next time I’ll give you a good reason that you can’t undress me. Such as having no hands.”

Haarlep’s smile is so sweet, coming to stand between Raphael’s knees, tracing a hand almost tenderly along his horns, the heavy, hard weight of them. He’s anticipating them being pulled on again, which is perhaps why Haarlep does not. “Take my hands,” they said, softly, “if you want. It’s really no business if mine if you’d rather not be touched. I think you’d miss my fingers though, no?”

“Cur,” Raphael growls. “The insolence. There’s not a soul on any plane with the temerity to speak to me the way you do.”

“Isn’t that why you’ve kept me? Razor-sharp wit and a brazen approach? Just like you, don’t you think?” Haarlep takes hold of him by the jaw, then pulls. Forward, always zagging when Raphael expects them to zig; he thought they would shove him back onto the bed, but they wrench him the other way, throwing him to the floor.

The air goes out of him. He feels the surge of throwing, as much as being thrown, and then before he can recover, Haarlep’s heat is beside him, and their hand is wrapped around his tail, and they pull. Raphael groans, all nerves struck like flint making sparks, all blood stirring south, and Haarlep pulls harder, forcing him onto his knees, head down. The pleasure of dominance is in the clench of Haarlep’s hand around his tail, lifting it, exposing him like he’s nothing, common, ripe for treating this way.

“I don’t think you’ve done anything to earn the softness of a bed,” says Haarlep, drawing claws shivering-soft over the bare flesh of Raphael’s thighs, between them, skating away from the most sensitive areas, where he wants to be touched, where he’s gotten hard quickly enough to ache pathetically. Instead, they palm a handful of his ass, let their claws dig in, and then spit again. They slick the spit over his hole with their fingers, and the feeling wrenches a shameful, wanting sound out of Raphael’s throat, and he presses his forehead to the stone floor, gritting his teeth.

“—but”—all Hells, they never shut up, on purpose, teasing their fingertips against him, circling and kneading and spitting again and never breaching—“from the look on your face today, you need this. No easy fuck on your back today, master.”

Snapping, frustration a bowstring in his chest: “Fuck me already or take your soliloquy elsewhere.”

Relief, momentary but staggering, when Haarlep yanks on his tail again and presses two fingers inside him. There’s a caution to it, claws considered, but Haarlep is nothing if not practiced with their shared body, and they sink in quickly to the knuckle, in perfect tension with the pull on his tail. Raphael’s wings rustle in an uncontrolled shudder.

Haarlep hums, all delight and pleasure to have Raphael so compromised. “I admit,” they said, something thready like want sneaking into their voice; desire is a real thing, a poison, in this room, “this is a perk of the job. Debasing you. Generally, if I’d been made aware what a brat you are ahead of time,” they move their palm; fuck him with their fingers, leave him too drunk on being tight and wanting to protest when they say, “I would have been more grateful to your father.”

“Don’t,” Raphael growls, all warning, all sincere warning to boot; talking about Mephistopheles with their fingers inside Raphael is nearly a bridge too far, to put it lightly.

But Haarlep knows how to manipulate and press a knife to a boundary without cutting through. They’ll talk enough to make him uncomfortable, to make his head spin, all the things he would do if he were the one fucking Haarlep instead. He can warn and crow and bark, but it’s empty air. There is so much empty air between the two of them. It’s a game.

They drag their hand along his tail, yank from lower down. “Don’t?” Wilful misinterpretation, using real ire to push and push and push. “Don’t what, Raphael? Would you like me to stop?”

There’s no good answer. He groans, head still down against the floor, back an obscene arch. If he says yes, Haarlep will stop. If he says no, Haarlep will take another victory in a string of their victories, today.

Other days are different. Many of them have been. Some days are in bed, Haarlep between his thighs, hitching his knees either side of their hips, looking himself in the eye, kissing, open mouthed and a different kind of heat than this. To be entirely pleasured, rather than taken.

Yet all days, in the House of Hope, are inevitably and equally welcome, bloody or otherwise.

But he still has not given Haarlep an answer, and that the incubus will not stand. He’s taken too long; they drop his tail, reaching over his wings, and they grab one of his horns, forcing his head off the floor. Tension rattles along his horns to his skull, and Haarlep moves their fingers pointedly, pressing. Raphael’s cock twitches, untouched, and he half-growls, half-groans.

“Don’t stop,” he manages, air half-caught in his throat, and Haarlep pulls harder on his horns. Almost pain, his head being pulled back, and—“Yes, fuck—“

“Beg,” Haarlep instructs, voice cutting through the haze, “If you’d like me to fill you up, you’re going to need to beg me.”

The instinct is to bite back. But he does want to be full, and taken, and filled up, and pushed around, and he can argue when Haarlep is fucking him and he can feel it through them. He steadies a prideful breath, and then, “Haarlep,” said nearly soft, said wanting. “Please. I need it.” A devil of any kind likes to have their egos stroked, and Haarlep is no exception; Raphael need only give them a little more, to get what he wants in kind. “I need you.”

Haarlep tugs one more time on Raphael’s horns. They sound overtly, sickly pleased when they say, “Good boy,” and Raphael shudders, half-repulsed, unable to stop the way it sends heat down his spine. It’s a uniquely irritating feeling, the way he would gouge the eyes out of anyone else who spoke to him like that.

He’s left cold when Haarlep is gone, then, leaving him empty, all hands off—the release of his horns means he can drop his head forward heavily, taking a deep breath. He glances over his shoulder, watches their silhouette, now naked, leather straps all gone, making them look more like him than ever. The sense of anticipation is delicious.

They shove him down, and his cheek hits the floor hard. He grimaces, flesh of his cheek cut against his sharp teeth, a little sulphuric iron flooding his mouth; grotesque, familiar, his own blood. Haarlep’s weight, quite exact to his own, settles heavily behind him, hands grasping at his hips. They slide their—his, Raphael’s, identical in every way—cock between his cheeks. Uncanny and so promising, and Raphael caves, just a little, arching his spine, silent please, silent pleading, silent bait. Haarlep has been known to protest otherwise, but they get something from this, their back and forth. After all, what a gift Raphael gives him, the ability to mouth off to an Archdevil’s son, to see him debased and looking to be taken.

They take a hand off his hip and Raphael closes his eyes, focuses in on the feeling, where he can feel Haarlep wrapping their fingers around their cock, can almost see it the way one can see a memory. Raphael inhales. Haarlep spits again—on Raphael, in their palm, slicking their hand over themselves. They press the leaking head of their cock to his hole and breach him so slowly that Raphael makes a frustrated, torturous sound, teeth gritting together, jaw clenched.

Half the agony is the pace that Haarlep works into him; the other half is he can feel how tight he is, through Haarlep, and has no control over the urge to be flush and home and deep. Raphael wants to fuck and be fucked, and Haarlep is intent on drawing this part out—presumably specifically to pile on the little miseries, the little humiliations.

“You can do better than that,” he hisses, trying for antagonism. The two of them are so closely entwined that acquiescence is indulgence; they both know what the other is trying to do, at all times, always, what intent sits on the back of their tongues.

Haarlep sighs, says, “You are so impatient”—and then obliges. They dig their claws into Raphael’s hips and snap their own forward, and the noise Raphael makes is loud enough to be heard in the halls of the House, he’s certain—and entirely doesn’t care. Let every soul know that Raphael has pleasure where they do not. When Haarlep moves in earnest, it’s as rough as they promised, hard and fast.

He'll never tire of feeling all of it. His eyes roll back, groaning, everything doubled up, the intensity getting him the closest thing to drunk that anything really can. He pushes himself back to meet Haarlep’s thrusts and feels that, too, his own eagerness echoing back at him. Haarlep is enjoying themselves, enjoying the curve of Raphael’s back, losing themselves in the in-out pressure, in what they’re doing to him. The pleasure of humiliation and humiliating.

“You,” oh, there’s a sweet airlessness in Haarlep’s voice now, clearly affected by their own desire, “look so delicious, taken down a peg or two—sometimes I think this is exactly where you belong, not with your—oh—endless scheming, but doing nothing but taking cock for eternity.”

Raphael shudders, presses his forehead to the floor, panting. “You would have me as one of our brain-dead dolls, mm?”

“Oh no, darling,” Haarlep purrs, and then takes the wind out of Raphael by shoving him down flat to the ground—no longer on his knees—and following closely. Their weight settles all over Raphael, so close and so deep with every rolling thrust of their hips, their chest pressed against his back. His wings are trapped, something about the discomfort so fitting, so correct. They wrap their fingers around the front of Raphael’s throat, teeth scraping his ear, biting the lobe.

It’s so much at once—every nerve ending is white hot—that Raphael cries out, no; whimpers Haarlep’s name, which only drives them on. He groans. “What, then?”

“Mm? Oh, I would want you full conscious and aware for all of it.” Haarlep’s tongue flickers over his earlobe, their mouth on his neck. “You would let me love you, you already do. But any beast in the Hells you would let fuck you open. Orthons are particularly large, I know you’ve already thought about that—”

No more struggling for power. No more anything. With Haarlep inside him, processing every sensation of his body in use, the thing he likes, fucking and being fucked, flat on the ground and being taken so roughly, it’s nearly easy to picture it. To imagine letting go. Raphael lets the incubus paint images like that. For just a little while, imagining being nothing is a sweet escape.

“Just a dog on a leash,” Haarlep groans, voice a terrible, promising whisper. Their hand presses harder on Raphael’s throat, making him dizzy. “Just a hole for other’s pleasure. Yours incidental. Nothing more and less. Wouldn’t you like that?”

It is just an escape, but Raphael gasps, “Yes,” anyway, all thought of fighting back discarded, because yes will keep Haarlep inside him, because yes feels good, because his cock is neglected and untouched but so hard, pinned against his stomach, and it’s all so abjectly obscene and—“Keep talking.”

There are some instructions Haarlep delights in following. The stroke of their hips quickens. “Do you want me to come inside you?” Before he can answer: “Really, you want you to come inside you. All of the benefits, none of the work. Pleasuring yourself”—they lose themselves, for a glorious moment, and bite down hard on Raphael’s shoulder, muffling a moan between their teeth before they can recover—“This is why being a bitch would suit you so well.”

Yes, yes. Nobody understands him the way he understands himself, nobody can push his buttons better than someone sharing his body, inside himself, taking himself, all-encompassing. In that too is that he likes to be ruined, and who else can he trust to ruin him? Yet—the fantasy is a nice one, and Raphael cries out for the press of teeth, how Haarlep bites hard enough to break skin and then licks up the blood.

“Tell me,” Haarlep growls, “Answer the question—"

“Come inside me,” Raphael says, something breaking inside him, desperate, willing in all his desperation, “I want you to—”

Haarlep gasps, bites Raphael again with a shuddering moan, “Yes, beg me—oh, beg for me, just like that.”

He does. He pleads, far better than before, far prettier, “Use me,” trying so hard to push back onto Haarlep’s cock but they have him pinned and at their whims, at their control, “fuck me, fill me up, I need you to come inside me. I need to feel it, or. Fuck.”

They make a sound of interest, of delight, nearly a laugh. “Or what?”

“I need it to come,” he admits. He knows he does, he knows that like this—where Haarlep is all but refusing to touch his cock—he needs the feeling, the kind of ruination, the marking, the claiming.

Haarlep is all too smug, when they say, “You’re so well behaved when you’re desperate.” They nip at his earlobe again, hand leaving Raphael’s throat to instead push fingers into his mouth—giving him no room to argue, and before he thinks to bite them off, he presses his tongue around them instead, groaning, sucking on Haarlep’s fingers. He feels that from within and without, too, as if he made the choice to put their-his fingers into his-their mouth.

“Good boy,” they murmur again, and Raphael flushes with hateful heat for it, the same as before, the same as always. Their claws press into his tongue. Their hips stutter. They don’t need to wax poetic about how close they are, they don’t need to ask if Raphael can tell; he feels it, and it floods through him.

Talk falling away in favour of breathing, in favour of moaning; Haarlep’s mouth against Raphael’s skin, Raphael whimpering around fingers. They’re both so close it’s nearly unbearable. He has a terrible, sneaking feeling that Haarlep is drawing it out on purpose—again—but he’s helpless, entirely held beneath them, and really, they both knew he would cease argument eventually, that he would be here, wanting and needing them to fuck him like this, however hateful an entrance he made.

As though hearing Raphael’s thought: “I could do this for hours,” Haarlep says, soft and dangerous. It’s not a tease, it’s the perfect, taut midpoint of a threat and a promise. “I know my stamina is better than yours. I could keep you here. On the edge. Maybe let you come, even if I’m not finished, then keep fucking you.”

“No,” Raphael says, letting Haarlep’s fingers fall from his mouth, aware that he sounds entirely pathetic, startled even. “No—I begged for you—”

Even as he’s saying it, he realises they wanted this: the most earnest kind of begging, the most pitiful kind, wanting their come so badly that he can’t stand the idea of being kept here all night. Their victory, again, and they take it from him. The true desperation pushes them over the edge, is what completes it for them, the most final kind of giving over—Haarlep’s hips jerk hard and they press flush, and stars shatter in front of Raphael’s vision. Their hand curls around his throat again, sweet pressure.

He less feels it than he experiences it, as though it’s him, buried flush in himself, cock pulsing, a shameless and hungry filling up. He feels himself gripping his own neck. He’s so tight around Haarlep, taking all of them and their come in turn, and Raphael thinks of how their come will trickle between his thighs later and all of it—the multi-layered, over-heightened, over-sensitive feeling—has him losing control, hips twitching towards nothing as his orgasm takes him.

It’s a filthy mess, between his stomach and the floor. There’s no air to be had. He squeezes his eyes shut, waves crashing, stomach clenching, muscles taut. It’s only when Haarlep releases the hold on his throat that he feels he can open his eyes, gasping. His eyes prickle damply, and he blinks fast, and shudders when Haarlep presses a kiss to the wound they made on his shoulder.

“Very good,” Haarlep murmurs. Their weight is, much as Raphael is loath to admit it, missed, when they draw away from him. He winces when they pull out. The heat of the Hells is nearly a cool breeze over his bare back, where they no longer touch him.

In his blurry peripheral, he sees Haarlep settle onto the floor beside him, sitting on their hip. He focuses on them. They are a welcome sight, skin dotted with sweat, naked and spent, their wings spreading out behind them. They tilt their head. “Needs? Other than to be helped off the floor.”

Raphael grunts. He unfolds his own wings, unrumpling them, shaking them out. He’s not quite ready to look at the spread of come, sticky and cooling, beneath him. Does he hate them less, now? Yes. For today, for the moment. “Perhaps you would roll me head-first into the bath so that I might drown.”

Haarlep laughs, leaning on their palm. “It might be arranged, but then what would your House do without you?” They kneel, reaching for him. “Come. I won’t drown you today.”

After a moment, Raphael reaches for them, too.

#my fic #baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #haarlep bg3 #raphael x haarlep

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rollinouttahere-writes · 9 months

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One Piece Space AU

In this AU, the Grand Line is now the Grand Line Galaxy. A particularly diverse and dangerous galaxy that draws in all kinds of adventurers. There are also tons of valuable resources here that catch the attention of the Enforcers. Enforcers are this AU’s version of marines. They claim to exist to maintain peace and order.

The Grand Line Galaxy is known for having streams flowing through it that can be used for traveling. These streams are made up of a clear liquid that resembles water but has a far lower freezing temperature and is also extremely toxic to anything that didn’t evolve to inhabit it.

There are two types of spaceships here. One is the more typical version that we see in sci-fi movies, the other is the kind of boat inspired spaceships like in the Treasure Planet movie.

The boat spaceships are considered ideal in the Grand Line because they can be used to sail on the stream, thus only needing fuel when they leave the stream to dock at a station or planet. This is not only much faster than the average spaceship, but is much more fuel efficient since it can just ride the current. The current is extremely fast, you do not want to fall off.

There are no devil fruits in this AU, just weird alien powers.

Fishman are pretty similar to how they usually are in this AU. They evolved in the Grand Line Stream so they can enter it freely. Biggest differences are that they’re larger and have more alien features.

Humans do exist in the space AU, but aren’t very common to see. Aliens have been snatching up humans for experiments/labor/pleasure for a long time, so it’s not unheard of to see them about. Some humans have been able to escape what they were sold into and have established human colonies.

The calm belt is made up of vapor from the streams and consists of dense storm-like clouds that cover the entire galaxy. Absolutely no technology functions while in the calm belt, only entirely hand operated mechanisms will be able to work. There are many large deep space creatures occupying the calm belt that will rip apart anything/anyone that is unfortunate enough to drift into it. The only “safe” entrance to the Grand Line Galaxy is where the streams first begin. If you’re in a regular spaceship, it’s pretty easy to slip in through the opening. If you’re in the boat spaceship and have to enter the stream, it’s much more tedious. Due to how fast the current is, one wrong move while entering it can easily slip over the ship and tear it to shreds.

The Straw Hats

Unfortunately as a writer, I cannot name things for the life of me. None of the alien species here are going to be named, but feel free to assign names to them if you feel like it. I am also going to be including Brook and Jinbei here even though I haven’t gotten to them yet. My interpretation are based entirely off spoilers I’ve seen and cold reading, I will probably come back later to tweak these after I get to them.

EDIT: Big thank you to @emtynessinmyworld for coming up with all the names for the alien species!

Both the Going Merry and the Thousand Sunny are the Treasure Planet style ships.

Luffy - Anaxdunamis

His species is known for its above average durability and strength. They can shrug off devastating blows like it's nothing and bounce back from it due their bodies being somewhat stretchy. If you pressed down on their skin, it would be tough, but have a little bit of give to it (like squeezing an eraser). Skin colors vary from orange, to pink, to red depending on the individual. Hair is very coarse and dark, it feels like a scrub brush. Their eyes are very dark, the pupils and irises are both pitch black and indistinguishable from each other (eyes do have whites). Carnivorous and have sharp teeth. Has four fingers on each hand. Relatively similar to humans in appearance in terms of anatomy. This species is considered ideal for being an Enforcer.

Luffy himself has a light pink skin color (looks like a bad sunburn). Despite being carnivorous, he eats all kinds of food regardless. Luffy’s abilities far surpass the average member of his species. His body has more give and can stretch far beyond what it should be able to do. Possible hybrid but no one has been able to confirm it or come up with what the other species would be.

Zoro - Dynamikopis

A very bulky bipedal mammalian species with quills all over their bodies and slight snouts. Densest on the back, but are present along the arms too. No hair, just quills pointed back on head. Skin is tan (like pre time skip Zoro). Omnivorous, mostly eats meat but can also eat other things. His species hibernates for a few months out of the year due to their home planet having extremely harsh winters. Has three fingers on each hand with claws. Eyes have vertical pupils and are various shades of green or brown (like alligator eyes).

Zoro’s quills are a deep forest green color, and his eyes are a light brown. While Zoro doesn’t do the whole hibernation thing done on his home planet, he naps a lot to make up for it. His body is designed to store fat so he’s prone to having a bit of a dad bod.

Nami

Human.

Nami was abducted along with many other humans as an infant. The ship she was on was intercepted by pirates. The battle was brutal and ended with both ships being destroyed. A passing Enforcer ship came by, and when Bellemere (also human) found only two intact stasis pods left with Nami and Nojiko in them, she took off with them back to her home colony because she knew other Enforcers might try and sell them off.

Usopp - Savrasynkalypsis

Reptilian based species. Have a horn right above the nose, males typically have longer horns for display purposes. No hair, just some crests that point downwards around the head. Experts in camouflage, skin can change color to blend in with anything. The base skin color varies a lot depending on the environment the individual grew up in. Like most lizards, they have tails that can be dropped, but they do grow back. Primarily insectivores but occasionally eat plant based foods. Eyes are like that of a gecko including not having eyelids. Hands and feet have five digits on each and resemble chameleon feet.

Usopp’s horn is considered excessively long even by his species’ standards. Always wears a rag on his head and goggles to help protect his eyes. Despite his species not having finger pads to help climb smooth surfaces, he could climb a greased pole if he was scared enough. Drops his tail a lot, it’s usually a nub.

Sanji - Taornis

An avian inspired species. Not completely covered in feathers, flesh is exposed on the hands and feet. There are display feathers at the base of the neck that flare up for mating purposes (like peacocks). Tons of variety in colors for each individual, no two look identical to each other. They can fly but only for short distances. No hair, but there are longer feathers on their head that resemble hair. Feet are flat, not like birds of prey or anything. Omnivores, are capable of eating all types of food. They eat food raw. Have beaks.

Sanji’s feathers are primarily blue with yellow and black highlights, beak is black. The display feathers on his neck have pink heart shapes on them. They flare up a lot. The longer feathers on his head are yellow and go down to his chin. These feathers typically stick up so this looks strange to others. Preens a lot, both with himself and any woman that will let him. His love for cooking is considered extremely odd by the rest of his species since they only eat raw food.

Chopper - Proteustarando

His species is known for consisting of the best shapeshifters in the universe. Their base forms resemble species of the cervidae family. The planet they’re from is bitterly cold, so they have thick, shaggy fur. Fur can be white, cream, light brown, or dark brown. All members have antlers regardless of gender. The antlers are very ornate and curly. Herbivores, but can eat other foods when they’re shapeshifting.

Chopper is an outcast because while he can shapeshift to an extent, the transformations all still strongly resemble his base form. Fur is light brown with a cream colored tuft around his throat. The antlers are still pretty short due to how young he is.

Robin - Makrovotiarachne

A species once known for their immaculate record keeping that is extremely long lived. Members of this species have six arms and four eyes. The eyes are on the face where you would expect them to be, with one pair directly under the other. Their “hair” consists of very fine tendrils that resemble jellyfish tentacles. They assist with storing memory and controlling their multitude of limbs. If you were to run your hand through the “hair” it would feel like running your hand over a TV that was just turned off. Skin is various shades of blue and purple. Five fingers on each hand. The species is officially labeled as extinct after Enforcers annihilated them hundreds of years ago.

Robin is the last of her kind. There was a small colony hiding on an inhospitable planet, but after Enforcers caught wind of them being there, they were all killed with the exception of Robin who managed to slip away via evacuation pod as a child. All she wants is to find the old records and spread their knowledge to out whatever it is that the Enforcers wanted to hide. Her skin is a light purple (lilac) and has blue eyes. Her tendrils are a dark midnight blue.

Franky

A cyborg, originally human.

He remembers very little about Earth due to being abducted at a young age (5), but does have some memories of it. Definitely romanticizes it a little. His stasis pod was dropped accidentally and eventually drifted and crashed on Water 7. After the train incident, his body needed to be entirely replaced with robotic parts, nothing but his brain still remains from the original body. His appearance is much more visibly robotic compared to his One Piece design, but is still very similar in terms of anatomy.

Brook

Human infected with a parasite.

Brook was a member of a fairly well established human colony made up of people who were able to escape whatever they escaped from. He was already an adult when he was abducted and worked as a music teacher. Before he could be sold off, a group of human vigilantes took over the ship and freed everyone on board. Brook would ultimately go on to join this crew of vigilantes. During a patrol, they were sucked into a black hole and left in a destitute corner of the Grand Line Galaxy. The ship was unable to work after the black hole encounter, so all the members began dying off as resources got lower. Brook happened to be the last one still alive when a parasite slipped on board and found him. The parasite infects its host by latching onto the soul and feeding off it. It won’t affect your behavior or memories, only forces you to stay alive. Once you’re infected, you become virtually immortal. Brook wanted to join his crewmates, so he tried to starve it out, not knowing that it fed off his soul and not his body. Since the parasite only needs the soul to thrive, it is willing to let the body rot away if the host doesn’t maintain it. Over time, Brook became nothing but bones, but there are some dark tendrils from the parasite visible along his body. Still has his hair somehow.

Jinbei

Still a fishman, not much really changed. He’s a bit bigger and has eight eyes instead of two.

This AU is going to be a lengthy multichapter series because I’ve put too much thought into this for it to only be a oneshot.

#one piece #monkey d luffy #zoro roronoa #luffy #one piece nami #nami #cat burglar nami #usopp #black leg sanji #sanji #tony tony chopper #nico robin #franky the cyborg #cyborg franky #brook #soul king brook #jinbei #space au

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griffonsgrove · 3 months

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OC || Introductions

hello my darlings!! I've really been wanting to introduce a few of my main characters to you all!! I was thinking of possibly doing headcanons/oneshots/drabbles in the future! (May be purely self-indulgent but we'll see) That being said, This is basically a very brief intro and info dump about each character. So let's get started!!

All characters and art belong to me!! Like I've said before I'm an artist and draw scenes and characters. I have a shit ton of art of all these guys that I'd love to share if anyone's ever interested!

cw: death, murder, cannibalism? minor sexual themes (one of my ocs is an incubus), minor violence.

Night

I've had her the longest, I made her several years ago. She's literally just a self-insert for EVERYTHING I enjoy sshejwka. But on another note! This is Night, she's a humanoid griffin hybrid (griffins being the mythological beast, half eagle half lion). She's very sweet and friendly. She's so mom-coded omg. Like she'll bake you little treats, makes sure your dressed for the weather, and reminds you of things you need to get done.

She has this locket around her neck that she keeps close to her. This is because it contains her "soul" or "spirit" inside of it. Every griffon has one, and it's what helps her to transform. Which btw shapeshifterrrr. Her true form being that of an actual griffin. She's a gentle giant though don't worry.

Tom

I know what you're thinking and no, he's not related to Bill Cipher. Tom is a 25-year-old art college student. He's a no-nonsense kind of guy, and very easily irritated. He's a fine arts major and does a lot of painting. He HATES his roommate (there's literally nothing wrong with him he's so nice and friendly, tom is just a dick). He's got a pet snake!! He's a hognose named Poncho! He's a total stonerrrrrrr, it's the only time he'll be chill honestly.

He and his roommate live in a city style apartment, on the first floor, complete with a basement. Unbeknownst to his roommate, Tom has a secret black market business selling organs to dealers. The basement is where he does all the harvesting, it strictly prohibited for anyone to go down there. It makes hella money though, which he uses to help pay his tuition (art college is expensive!)

Orphan btw. His mom is Night actually (an adoptive relationship) She loves and cares about him very much, the same goes for him. He usually acts more behaved if she's around.

Roman

Roman is, well he's a--thing?? creature?? I haven't decided in all honesty but he's dangerous. He travels all across the country, making sure to be well hidden. He's a serial killer oop. His signature weapon being a bowie knife. Bros got some major sadistic and animalistic tendencies. Eats his victims btw. He can't rly show his face in public, and the mans gotta eat right??

He likes to hunt. His victims are essentially "prey" to him, and he does so enjoy the thrill of a chase. He's got a looooooong tongue (as you can see) he's accidently bitten it once or twice with those sharp teeth of his. Has a tail as well, yk what espeons tail looks like? yea it's like that. His ears are sensitive btw he doesn't like them being touched.

Can never stay in one spot for too long, constantly on the move, he's got great stamina and can run for quite a long time.

Damien

WOOO. RUFFmEOW. BIG STRONG MAN LETS GO RAGHHH. ya so this is Damien. As you can tell I love him very much and I'm so very normal about him. He's an incubussss (sex demon basically). Literal definition of a Himbo. He's a big beefy guy who's wholesome and sweet, despite his line of work.

Super flirty, and also hypersexual. It's what he feeds off of, and how he regenerates and gets his magic. which btw, he can be summoned!

He's got a looot of body hair, happy trail for dayysss! Also has a bunch of peircings, snake bites on his face, and nipple peircings on his pecks. He's got numerous scars littered all over his body too. He's really sweet an attentive, as well as respectful! What more could you want in a man??

Alecto

BIG WOMAN. she's literally just my "villain" version of Night, however she's not a self-insert. I gave her, her own story and lore. She's the main antagonist in an animated series I'm creating. Her name is based of the Mythological woman "Alecto" Who was a fury of the underworld, she symbolizes rage and spreads it across the world.

She's very quick to anger. "hot-headed" (Pun-intended). The back of her hair is literally fire, and it can grow and change depending on her mood. Those gauntlets on her arms are strong AF and razor sharp, you do not want to get on her bad side. Ngl, she kinda feral at times, yk how Miguel O'Hara literally ran on all fours to chase after Miles Morales??? Yea she does that.

She's evil muehahshegsh, but also classy. She's also really tall!!! like about 8'6'' DAYUM. she'll crush you.

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annnndd thats a wrap!! These are the main Oc's that I adore and use on a regular basis, they each hold a special place in my heart. I rly would love to do occasional drabbles or head canons with my babies at some point, but I'm not sure anyone would read/enjoy them 😭

Nevertheless, I do hope you enjoyed my small ramble about these guys, as you can see, I'm totally normal about them.

Oh!!! and if you're ever wanting any more of my art just lmk!! I mainly post my writing on this blog, but if y'all wanna see, I can def show!!

#dating headcanons #x reader #headcanons #infodump #original character #orginal character #oc #aboutmyoc #my ocs #gender neutral reader #fem reader #male reader #original characters #incubus #demon #self insert #self indulgent

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motleyfam · 2 years

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hey! so its 4am and ive just finished my, um... fifth(?) reread of world's saddest breakfast club and like! aaahhhh!!!

do u got abything to tell us abt this story? like sbt the writing proccess or things u thought that did not make it in or hc or anything really. i dont have a question exactly, just wanted to hear you talk about it. im a bit. well. obssesed.

Oooh cool question! I definitely do!

World's Saddest Breakfast Club: Fun Facts

The opening line is a result of me angsting to @batmoniker about how I couldn't figure out how to start my fic, and her jokingly being like "I got you, bro. Ready? 'It was a dark and stormy night'" and then me just being stubborn and committing to the bit.

The story started with a vague idea of "everyone in the kitchen at 3am for different reasons and Jason channeling his inner short order cook." All I knew going in was the order I wanted people to appear, what was wrong with them (sick, hurt, insomnia, etc) and what food Jason would be making for them. Everything else I made up as I went.

If I could go back and change one thing about this fic, I'd reduce how long Jason was kidnapped to like, 6-8 days, max. 16 days seemed funny when I wrote it, but in hindsight, I feel like he'd be a little more fucked up in the story if he were really escaping from that many days of captivity lmao

I headcanon Dick as the kind of person who straight-up forgets to eat when he's preoccupied, and Jason as the kind of person who cannot FATHOM this concept. Jason absolutely will miss a meal if the situation calls for it, don't get me wrong, but he's aware the entire time he's doing it and it makes him super antsy. (This once turned into A Thing™ when Jason was like, 13 years old and staying with Dick for the weekend for some brotherly bonding and Dick forgot about lunch and by 5pm, Jason maybe sorta kinda had a minor panic attack about it. Dick was a lot more mindful of that moving forward)

Bruce's favorite food being lobster thermidor is a reference to the Lego Batman movie

I wrote this whole fic with Julia Child's recipe pulled up in one tab and my google doc in the other

At some point I realized that since I started with fresh lobsters, I was going to have to write Jason killing them, and it derailed me so hard that the fic nearly became about meatloaf instead. (Never mind the fact that Jason canonically kills human beings — that's totally fine. I just draw the line at him killing lobsters 😰)

(in the end I just kinda glossed over it and made sure they were already cooked before Damian appeared so I wouldn't have to address it 😬)

Dick's reoccurring shoulder injury is a reference to the DCAU where I swear that man has dislocated his shoulder/injured his arm at least 4x

The line about Tim being allergic/throwing up when he eats eggs was inspired by a line in chap 11 of @goldkirk's fic Hymn, which I've reread about 37x

Jason is correct— grits are fucking delicious and definitely not baby food.

My favorite line is "Okay there’s self-sacrificial bullshit, and then there’s whatever the fresh hell that is."

The idea for Cass being a big meat-eater comes from a comic panel where Steph offers her a plate of rice and beans and Cass says she needs meat and starts mischievously eying Steph's hamster. Can't find the panel to save my life, but I promise it's out there.

EDIT: finally found it!

Steph's nickname of "Zombie Boy" for Jason is borrowed from @audreycritter's Cor Et Cerebrum series (which is a fucking masterpiece, btw)

This fic was gonna be called "Creatures of the Night" until batmoniker said Steph's line made for a better title

Several people have asked me whether Jason was really cooking Bruce's lobster to spite him, or if he was actually intending to make it for him all along. The answer is... both? Like Jason's kind of an unreliable narrator in that he's trying to convince himself that he's just doing what he's doing to be a little shithead when deep down it's all stemming from his need to take care of his family, you know? Like he'll never admit it, but that's where his heart is at.

To everyone who's asked for a part 2 where the family finds out Jason was kidnapped, I'm gonna be honest: the main reason I don't think I'm ever going to write that scene is because I can't come up with a good enough joke for him to make to accidentally out himself 💀

#thank you so much for asking!#you're super sweet and I'm so glad you enjoyed the story

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evillillad · 3 months

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Can we maybe get some character sheets for your ocs and id like to write about them!!

👉👈

AAAHH i really wanna do updated character sheets WITH personality and lore i just aint got time rn!! BUT thank you for being interested!! 😭😭

to make up for the lake of sheets, heres some facts and lore typed out lol

Molly: (based on persona) secret demon being attached to Nina

Mollys kind of a strange case. Not quite puppet not quite...other creatures. She popped into existence around the time nina was born, hence the shared birthday. Shes a bit scatter brained, very easily distracted but once she has her mind set on something, nothing can get in her war. She's quite inquisitive and is constantly asking questions. Her first day in the neighborhood was basically asking every neighbor she met the most wild and intrusive questions she had. Little to no filter, says exactly whats on her mind. Doesnt understand why that makes some people so uncomfortable. Isnt it good to be curious? To tell the truth? To be honest? Man these creatures are strange. Also doesnt have any boundaries, is an absolute open book and for some reason is suprised when not everyone else is too. Think of her almost like a more unhinged wally, very naive to the ways of the waking world, but well verse in the night time activities. frequently takes long walks alone in the middle of the night. she sees them. she knows them. she keeps them away. some have gotten a bit too close to the neighborhood for comfort, is it because of her? do they know shes one of them, if not atleast similar? shes suspicious wally knows whats going on, its not normal for these beings to be here, but what draws them in?

^ongoing plot line of Molly spying on Wally constantly. A bit obsessive with him-she cant tell WHAT he is but she knows he isnt like the other neighbors but hes also not like her. Constantly pushing and manipulating him to break, but he seems either annoyed or oblivious to her attempts. otherwise, general nuisance to Wally, Frank (eats his bugs), Eddie (stares at him thru the post office window), Poppy (constantly getting herself into trouble) and Nina (personal demon).

Also maybe kills the nighttime creatures?? it seems like shes protecting the neighborhood from an outsiders perspective but those that REALLY know her know its territorial...somehow isnt intimidated by home tho. maybe shes trying to work with home? two demon things band together?? idk lmao

clumsy but also graceful? very bendy. no bones...crawls around like a creep sometimes.

Nina: (self insert oc) regular spider gal with a knack for art

Ninas quite normal actually. She was raised by a normal family within normal circumstances, but found herself with the strangest imaginary friend. She was never quite sure why one day everyone was suddenly able to see Molly but shes glad she finally isnt crazy. Now she cant get rid of the annoying asshole. Stuck with this annoying ass demon puppet thing, Nina moves to the neighborhood to get a new start on independence. With her new home, Nina spends most of her days painting, sewing, crocheting, and sculpting. Of course she always has her music going on, its never quiet in the house. Wally spends lots of time with her, they will frequently setup figure drawing sessions where their fellow neighbors will pose for them. Howdy seemed more than happy to constantly volunteer, maybe a tad bit overzealous to show off his muscles. Nina was more than excited to have such an interesting subject to create art of, although with Wally by her side, he always seemed to end up drawing an apple. There wasn't even an apple in the set. Nina doesnt care, shes just happy to have her little darling with her!

Despite being easily excitable and down to earth, shes actually quite timid and easily flustered. Howdys first few advancements had Nina trying to come up with some sort of lie so she could hurriedly get out of the bugdega and hide her beet red face. After this its just the rom com do they like me pinning i love so much lol

Unlike the other neighbors, she is somewhat aware of what goes bump in the night. Shes not sure what exactly it is, but she knows its dangerous...and she knows Molly has too much fun dealing with it. Despite Mollys homicidal tendecies, Nina is NOT scared of her. Shes aware of the fact that without her, Molly wouldnt have a host to stay alive. She cant do anything to harm her and even if she did, Ninas not afraid to grab her by the tail and launch her into the sun (Molly is actually somewhat intimidated by Nina, so she shows some level of obedience).

and thats it for those two!! I also would like to add that I wanna work on an oc of my dog and make goofy content of him and barnaby being like dude tf are u doing. also i know i have other ocs but either they arent quite fleshed out (lilith, betty, batsy), they arent technically mine (tilly and mitzy), or im just really tired and its late rn.

but if u got this far wow ermgee thanks for reading my late night rambles im dying

TLDR: Mollys homicidal, stupid, cant read a room, and is a demon. Ninas just a timid, excitable, down to earth, artsy spider with a weird demon imaginary friend that came to life.

#nina noon #molly moss #welcome home oc #:o)#im so tired that was so much typing ahfdashd #i had to write a review today and its the most typing ive done since college #i never type cuz i cant read #oh and for bffs> Molly hangs around a lot with Julie and Wally #Nina hangs a lot with Barnaby and Howdy (and also Frank since they both collect bugs)

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psychewritesbs · 1 year

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Chapter 214: Cursed Womb Under Heaven, part 6—Sukuna Sukuna Sukuna Sukuna Sukuna Sukuna Sukuna Sukuna Sukuna Sukuna Daddy Sukuna Sukuna Sukuna

Blessed / Cursed JJK-Sunday! Pick your poison...

I hate (affectionate) Sukuna because... well... this whole Megumi thing is so weird. Like... what is going on with the hair?

And yet I am a massive Sukuna simp (questionable) because... well.. this whole conversation with Yuji...

Like Sir. Yes, I will dedicate my life’s work to spreading the gospel of Sukuna to all who will listen. Ura Ume can cook, I can be your Marketing person and do your social media if that’s what you’re into.

I LOVE a character twisted by his own humanity. Yeeeessss...

More, please!

There’s more of me “yeeeeeeeeeesssss”+ing and promoting Sukunaism under the cut.

yeeeeeeeeeeeesssssss.....

The King of Curses

I am perhaps projecting, but there’s something definitively very regal about Sukuna and the way he carries himself in an embodied state.

I also loved that there is also something very benevolent about the look in Sukuna’s face as he speaks with Yuji about the nature of suffering for weaker beings.

Almost like “oh you poor thing, you really thought you were just going to be handed your cake and get to eat it too, didn’t you?”

And I am VERY consciously choosing to use the word benevolent to describe Sukuna because... there is something inherently twisted and yet, extremely real, in the message that Sukuna embodies.

Almost like he’s doing Yuji a favor by enlightening him on the root cause of his suffering.

YES! yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes YES!

Am I like a crazy person for loving Sukuna so much?

And there’s something so fascinating here about how, despite dropping deep truths about the human condition, Sukuna is literally the epitome of all that is cursed, a sort of container for all that is inherently wrong about humanity--to the point that you can’t even think of him as human, but rather, as inhuman.

But... really... what does it mean to be a human, what does it mean to be a curse, and where do we draw the line?

Are curses truly the sole source of suffering as Spooks asks?

After all... are curses not the result of negative human emotion?

Are we, as humans, not responsible for their existence?

You see, I became a cursed spirit apologist the moment Yuta kissed a cockroach. This forced me to start questioning what is good and what is evil.

The marriage of Heaven and Hell

Now... I am not asking for Sukuna to not be thought of as evil.

I am asking for a wider, more profound interpretation of evil. One that is not colored by the Western, white-washed, Judeo-Christian idea of the figure of Satan as a red horned creature that is evil for the sake of evil and makes people do evil #things.

I am asking for you to leave your pre-conceptions of evil at the door...

What if perhaps we saw Satan as Lucifer, the harbinger of light who was thrown out of Heaven for challenging the status quo and daring to seek enlightenment through embodiment?

What if we saw evil as as a corruption and degeneration of all that is good and humane--a sort of rejection of one expression of the self in favor of the trappings of self-gratification and self-identification?

What if we asked how Sukuna’s degenerated and corrupted humanity is an embracing and transcendence of suffering as not just inherent to the human condition, but a precursor of psychological and psychospiritual growth and development?

What if evil was a choice made in favor of the self and that is why Satan was cast out of Heaven?

What if evil was just trying to re-affirm the sense of self, and that is why Sukuna has chosen ego as his path of enlightenment?

After all...

“The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.”

When Gege introduced Jacob’s Ladder in chapter 213...

... he introduced one hell pun intended of a rabbit hole. One that I am not quite ready to talk about in great detail because I am unsure on how the symbols will be explored, or let’s be real here, whether they will get explored at all.

But with this tiny panel, Gege basically introduced the “upper” extreme of a metaphorical experience of psychospiritual growth depicted in the shape of a ladder. At the lower end of said ladder is the experience of descent into hell that is depicted in stories like Dante’s Divine Comedy.

Now. The interesting bit about Jacob’s Ladder getting mentioned, is that Gege added a neat little detail that is easy to miss unless you know what you’re looking for:

That is: Urizen’s Architect’s compass.

Now, for context, the painting above is a painting by William Blake, who perhaps not so coincidentally, also has a painting titled Jacob’s Ladder.

The painting is, indeed, inspired by the Biblical depiction of Jacob’s dream found in Genesis 28:10-17.

Again, the rabbit hole runs deep.

What I’ll say about this for now is that Gege might be using these symbols to present Sukuna as a character that personifies a sense of self that is beyond logic and reason where...

Good = logic bound by reason, and

Evil = imagination free from reason.

I still haven’t made up my mind about it because Gege is being a bit inconsistent with symbols, so we’ll have to wait to confirm.

But in a nutshell, this feels like a murky exploration of the sense of self and where it stands in relation to the question of “good and evil” or as Blake calls it “the marriage of Heaven and Hell”.

So if Gege is using William Blake’s philosophy then... I can’t help but see Sukuna as a character who has become enlightened through becoming entangled in the trappings of ego. Which is a nice dichotomy to how enlightenment is thought to be about transcending and leaving behind ego attachments.

But not Sukuna.

Sukuna is about experiencing the highest of highs and the lowest of lows of the human experience.

Logic be damned.

“The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom”.

In other words, Sukuna strikes me as being about willingly and consciously embracing the suffering that is inherent to the human condition, and growing in strength because of it.

After all, you cannot know pleasure without first having known pain, and you cannot know pain if you have not known pleasure. In Blake’s words, "without contraries is no progression.”

Quick detour here to expand on these panels above... Explaining the sense of self is not easy.

What I can say right now is that the sense of self is the result of the ego-self negotiating with reality as it presents to you compared to your expectations and hopes for your reality.

In the words of Westworld’s Robert Ford:

"...the thing that led... to... awakening [is] suffering. The pain that the world is not as you want it to be.”

Similarly, Westworld’s Man in Black tells us that

“When you are suffering, that’s when you are most real.”

Which is another way of saying that there is strength and transformation to be found in suffering and that turning away from suffering is what weak minded people would do according to the gospel of Sukuna.

Or basically, when life hands you the lemons, you make margaritas with them although I highly recommend you use limes instead of lemons and might I also recommend Mezcal instead of Tequila for a nice smokey twist on everybody’s favorite Mexican cocktail.

Suffering is an inherent aspect of the human condition after all. You either develop the mental fortitude to keep moving forward, or, in Sukuna’s view, you remain weak, defeated by your fate.

And what’s interesting here is that Yuji has a very infantile unwillingness to see suffering as an inherent aspect of human existence.

Or as Spooks reminds us all, it’s not just curses that cause suffering.

So to me, Sukuna’s philosophy is about overwhelming strength as a result of self-gratification. He is the kind of character who will put himself through hell for the sake of acquiring strength.

This is where Jacob’s Ladder becomes relevant, because in Blake’s philosophy, the Angels who are “good”, could only see ego attachment (which is a metaphor for hell) as suffering. As such, they could not comprehend why anyone would put themselves through hell for the sake of self development.

In other words, Sukuna is an exploration on hedonism and all that can be considered sinful if only because the ego’s attachment to pleasure is at the root of suffering.

“The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom”.

A different execution of this trope is another one of my blorbos, Twelve, from Watanabe’s Terror in Resonance (Zankyou no Terror).

Twelve is the kind of character who wants to have certain experiences and will, at the expense of his better judgment and other people, force certain experiences to happen just because he wants to have them. In fact, he doesn’t stop to think about consequences, he just acts for the sake of experiencing.

Whether these experiences cause pain and suffering or joy and happiness, does not matter. The point is to have the experience because the road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.

For those of us who are crazy enough to be romantically inclined, it’s like the experience of falling in love while fearing rejection, but still choosing love.

Logic be damned.

But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? If you held back from the moments when you are invited to come alive every single time that you saw suffering in the horizon, would you cower from those experiences?

Or would you embrace them for the sake of self development?

Similarly, Sukuna who exists only for his own pleasure, is an example of how the ego is shaped and transformed through experience.

In Sukuna’s case, experience can come in the shape of fights and women and whatever will satiate the appetite of an ego hungry for embodied experience...

Hedonism, the pursuit of pleasure and sensual self-indulgence.

But I want to think that Sukuna also understands that you cannot forsake suffering, especially if you are in the pursuit of the better things that life has to offer.

There isn’t one without the other after all.

If you want to be happy, you have to be willing to suffer for that happiness.

You can’t know what wealth is unless you have known poverty.

You can’t know great love unless you have known heartbreak.

"Without Contraries is no progression.”

To reject this principle of human existence is, in Sukuna’s gospel, to be weak, to be prey to those who will consume anything and everything that is standing in the way of their hungry, insatiable ego.

God I love Jujutsu Kaisen...

Splat

Well, that was two *splat* moments in one month and I have to admit they are both just as brutal.

Anyways. This was an interesting chapter from a translator’s pov because there were subtle messages that may or may not have gotten lost in translation.

So just a heads up I kind of stuck to the fan translation for the most part for that very same reason.

Yuji and Megumi vs. Sukuna

Ok but to wrap things up...

I love that Sukuna is always impressed by Megumi...

THAT’S MY BOY!!!!!!!! YEEEEEEEEEEEES!!!!

And I also love that Sukuna underestimates Yuji...

Yuji is by far one of my absolute favorite mcs in Shonen. He embodies the characteristics of your typical Shonen mc and then re-defines them in a way that is very uniquely Yuji.

Anyways, sigh of relief about Megumi. I can stop holding my breath FOR THE TIME BEING!!!!

It’s not that I don’t trust that Megumi has what it takes, the one I don’t trust is the cursed cat.

Can’t wait to see these two beautiful boys fight together.

Happy Jujutsu Kaisen Sunday and thank you for joining me again this week in this hell pun intended of a roller coaster.

#god I love jujutsu kaisen #jjk ch 214

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