#desires: raphael

[diioonysus]

bows in art

[sky-kiss]

A/N: Blatant Asmodeus propaganda. After betraying Raphael in the HoH to save Baldur's Gate, they steal his corpse back from Meph and entreat Asmodeus. Also. A Dracula gif. To push my agenda.

Raph x GN!Tav: A Pact Struck, A Contract Sealed

Ages have passed, and empires have risen and fallen since a mortal last attempted to bind his Aspect. Asmodeus feels a tickling in the back of his psyche, barely a drag at his near-infinite energy. His awareness fragments and then shifts, searching for the source of the petition. The words come second, the feelings first. 

Desperation. Pain. A soul-deep grief. Physical hurt, too, but it's a stinging afterthought. The Lord of the Nine Hells cocks his head to the side, eyes closed. They are petitioning his avatar. They whisper in the darkness. A chill winter breeze howls around them, bowing the branches of dead trees. How fitting, he thinks, that this little creature should surround itself with such things. They wear death like a shroud. 

He is not in the habit of entertaining such low-hanging fruit…but there is a touch of something in their desperation, a sweetness Asmodeus has not sampled in many years. It amuses him. And he is not above indulging his amusement—the Archdevil motions with his right hand, passing a fraction of his awareness to the Aspect. The darkness of his throne room fades in favor of a moonlit night—the sickly sweet tang of blood colors the air. 

Ah, and there is his petitioner. They sit with their back pressed to an ancient white birch, skin badly frostbitten. Cania's stink lingers across their skin, brimstone and hellfire marrying together. They curl around their prize, clutching a badly mangled figure to their chest. Asmodeus hums, kneeling. Its wings are broken. So many bones shattered. 

"Tell me, child." His voice is low and pleasant in the chill air, a warmth chasing along the baritone. "Do you know whose name you have called? The attention you would court?" 

They nod, grip tightening on their prince. Tears cut through the mess of dirt on their skin. Crying, he thinks, and what a charming little oddity. Who shed tears for a devil? How curious. How delightful. "Lord Asmodeus, Prince of the Darkness. Lord of Lies." 

"Indeed, I am. Pretty titles, aren't they?" 

"I thought…" they catch themselves. Asmodeus notes the tremor in their right hand and the way they struggle to stay upright. His presence is overpowering at the best of times; the wounded little creature is fighting valiantly not to succumb to darkness, mind breaking under the weight of his Aspect's attention.

"My apologies, little one. It has been some since I treated with your kind. Allow me." He reaches out with one clawed hand, tapping his nail to the center of their forehead. The ward will protect them from the worst of it. They blink at him. "Continue, please." 

Their right hand tightens in the corpse's dark hair. "My Lord, I had hoped to make a deal with you. I know…I am beneath your attention…"

"Most are. The benefit of being a god, I suppose. But it has never stopped me in the past." 

Despite themself, they smile. Shuffling, the adventurer turns their burden outwards. Though badly burned, cheekbones shattered, he recognizes the features—so much of the father in the son, an agony to both parties. Mephistopheles' boy stares blankly forward—a hollow shell of himself, a waste of potential.  

It pains the Prince to see so promising a resource wasted. 

"I made a mistake. I…" they swallow. "There was something that had to be done. And it came at a cost. Raphael…” 

"The boy is known to me, child. If I may?" They hesitate. Asmodeus forces his temper down, the air around them heating. He is a god and not in the habit of being denied. But the Hero of Baldur's Gate relents, shifting their burden into his arms. The Lord of the Ninth cups his hand over the pretender-king's mouth, his forehead. Asmodeus shuts his eyes. "Such a waste." 

"Can you help him?"

"Do you doubt me, little one?" They shift back, dropping their eyes at the sharpness of his tone—a warning, barely veiled. "Mephistopheles has devoured that which he gave—the infernal. The mortal soul…is uncontested. Lost somewhere in Avernus. It could be located…for a price."

"Anything." 

Asmodeus chuckles. He is not ignorant of the sudden rush of color in the little creature's cheeks or how the sound makes them avert their eyes. This guise is pleasant, after all, tall and angular and dark. The wind catches in the blackness of his hair, the long strands falling well below his shoulders. "How dearly naive. I've half a mind to take advantage of such generosity." They shiver under the force of his stare, reality undoubtedly going dark around the edges. He hums. "But…the alternative could prove a more pleasurable distraction still." 

The Lord of the Ninth stands, holding out his hand. The hero, Tav, sets their palm in his. He helps them to their feet, settling his other hand on their shoulders. So close, he can feel the weight of their exhaustion and desperation rolling off them, an ambrosia. The depth of their affection for the boy-king. Interesting and useful. Asmodeus touches their cheek. 

"I will treat with you, little one, and more fairly than I ought. Your dear one's potential: a few more centuries, a stern hand, and Raphael might have made a powerful piece on the board. His sire is…" Asmodeus tapped his chin. "Increasingly irrelevant. Immutable and tiresome." 

Tav stares up at him, such a little thing. And there is potential there, too, the ability to warp and mold this boy-king into something suitable to his grand design. He touches their cheek with a claw. "I will give the means to locate Raphael's soul. In retrieving it, you will prove your worth and dedication. I have no use for the faint of heart. Is this clear?" 

"Yes, my Lord." 

"Clever pet, very clever." He smiles, chucking them under the chin. "You bring the boy to my court in Nessus, where he shall be given the means to decide his fate. Is that clear?" 

"Yes."

What an amusing twist of fate. He bends, collecting the Prince's mangled body in his arms. Tav looks ready to protest, to fight for their dear one (and again, how delightful; Asmodeus cannot help but feel charmed), only to remember what precisely stands before them: a god in truth, the Lord of all the Nine Hells. Asmodeus smiles at them, bowing his head. "I shall keep him for you, little one. You have my oath. Collect his soul, and we will meet again." 

He leaves them without another word, a touch of the dramatic, a hint of mystery to whet their palette. Asmodeus inspects the corpse in his arm. 

Sweet Prince, broken and bloodied. 

Asmodeus will make him whole again. 

[lotus-duckies]

There's something about the scene in return to new york when they scout out the lair and seeing them sneak around and try to be silent in a place they had known as home for most of their lives, seeing the rubble on the ground and yearn for that life again, missing their father and missing their home

[seagull-scribbles]

“I’m a bit of an alley cat too” - S3E8

[bugablu]

This is an incomplete thought, but my mind keeps wandering back to that scene at the beginning of part II in Angels Before Man by @nicosraf in which Lucifer is caught admiring his reflection in the water, evoking the image of Narcissus. Thinking about how Narcissus, in most iterations of the story, was cursed by a god for refusing another’s romantic advances. And something about both of their undoings being marked with a flower.

[mimzaucracks]

Silly little Oz AU

I wanted to create something silly for Spooky Season, so I did.

(Click for better quality)

Leonardo is not Dorothy. The idea is that this would be like an actual episode of the show; he'd get Wizard of Oz'd into, well, Oz, and the episode would play out like an abridged and heavily toned down version of the The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (1900). Which in turn means that the others are not the other three Turtles, either. They are, however, styled after and voiced by the other three. So, instead of saying something like "Donatello", I'll either use "Donatello-as-the-Tin-Woodman" or simply "the Tin Woodman" (which of course also applies to the other two).

The idea of the Scarecrow, the most intelligent character in the main cast in the book, speaking like Michelangelo does in the show was too funny not to implement!

I imagine the dialogue in the scene where Leonardo and Kiki meet him would go something akin to:

“I'm going to the Emerald City to find the wizard to help me back to New York.” “You suppose that wizard dude could give me some brains?" "Yeah, I'm sure he can!" "Mondo tubuloso!”

Not sure if I want Leonardo to be outed as knowing the fact that the wizard is a fraud, though...

I put Leonardo in the silver shoes from the book, since I heavily doubt anyone would've cared for fighting MGM for the rights to use the ruby slippers. On Discord while sketching, we did joke that I could put him in silver Birkenstocks or ruby Crocs. Sadly, Crocs weren't invented until 2002 😔

I debated a lot who to cast who as. Leonardo in the role of Dorothy and Raphael as the Cowardly Lion were easy enough, but which one of the other two brothers to cast as the Scarecrow and Tin Woodman? Both Michelangelo and Donatello work for either, since the book characters' main traits are intelligence and empathy respectively, but I finally settled on the casting that I did. Like mentioned above, the Scarecrow with Michelangelo's speech pattern is absolutely hilarious, but I don't think that Donatello-as-the-Tin-Woodman's hilarity should be understated, either; especially since his canon name when he was human (turtle?) was Nick Chopper, which does fit Donatello's general strategy of repairing things in the TV show by hitting or kicking machines strangely well.

While sketching, I also joked that Raphael-as-the-Cowardly-Lion looks like Raphael just finished a Cats the musical rehearsal but hadn't told anyone and just got busted sneaking back into the Lair. I also accidentally coloured him piss yellow when I coloured the flats, which I suppose is fair. Yellow is actually a colour associated with cowardice (even though the Lion wasn't actually a coward at all, but we'll set that aside).

Speaking of colouring mishaps, when colouring the Tin Woodman's base colour, I decided to look up images of tin to find a good rough match. Well, it then hit me to double check whether tin actually does rust or not. And guess what, it doesn't. Thus, I got around the problem by making his bolts, screws and joints made of iron instead. He has to rust somehow; you cannot have a Wizard of Oz "adaptation" without [Dorothy] and the Scarecrow oiling him upon meeting him.

The Toto situation was a tricky one, since TMNT isn't really known for its prevalence of dogs. The only actual noteworthy canine characters I can think of in any iteration are Rahzar and Dogpound, and as funny as it would've been for me to cast Rahzar as Toto, truth be told I had honestly forgotten him and Tokka even existed in the cartoon. I briefly considered having April be Toto (somehow), but I refused to entertain that idea even more than I already had. Instead, I got around the Toto problem by just drawing a dog (here a Scottish terrier, like how I pictured Toto in my head) and then renaming it. And thus, Kiki! And I love her.

Also, fun fact, the Scarecrow actually wore blue in the book!

[tavyliasin]

Evolution of a fanfic writer~ Haarlep lives in my mind, always. They whisper such delightful ideas, my beloved muse has yet to let me down when they're there. Of course sometimes they take a break, or I lend their services to my other darling degenerates...and in exchange, there appear to be more words written to satisfy my own whims~ fics and drabbles, every treato I devour with gratitude~ I adore my incubus muse~ I do hope they can inspire more and more from all of us. Especially when they get to be the star of the show.

[harrycollins]

In general, thinking about Raphael and Gortash and how Raphael affected his ward prisoner, how he shaped his worldviews, manners and way of thinking makes me insane.

[fabuloustrash05]

So I've written a Shinirai oneshot.

I've written a Slalopex oneshot.

I've written a Caseynardo oneshot.

I've written MULTIPLE RaMona oneshots.

I need to do a Renetangelo oneshot at some point soon...

[sky-kiss]

Raphael: And what do we say when this happens? Sticks and stones may break my bones but…?

Orin: But—

Haarlep: Chains and whips excite me!

Raphael: Be silent. I am imparting wisdom to my heir.

Raphael: As I was saying. Sticks and stones may break my bones. But the torment nexus is forever.

(Please know. Good lord. I opened my inbox and this made me snort laugh so hard. It is. So. Aggressively. Haarlep. Bless them. And you lolol.)

[merelyplxyers]

for @ragtagrunaways based on THIS (NSFW)

Raphael had been locked up in his atelier and worked like a maniac. Social contacts were limited to the few times he actually managed to remember to eat and ordered some take out for himself. These spurts of creativity weren't new or even rare, but having them last this long only happened once in a blue moon. And now that he had finished his newest painting and was finally content with the way it looked, there were other needs that grew in his chest. Needs of a more carnal nature, so he gave in, jumping the first person he saw, tangling his limbs with his, fingers tangled in his hair while he rode the other's lap, feeling how hard dicks were pressing together, only parted by a very annoying layer of fabric.

"Fuck… I need you baby. Pretty please"

[doctorznote]

HEHEHEHE DOODLES

[rosecreates]

I think one of the funniest parts about the Unholy Trio is the fact that there is one thing they without a doubt all unanimously agree on: They should spite Raphael whenever possible, and that is the sole reason any of them go to the House of Hope. Pure spite. Freeing Orpheus is...they're all pretty meh to it. Sylve cares the most about it (because Lae'zel cares about it) albeit is unsure, whilst Nim and Raven are just like "Who cares. Spiting the devil is more imporant". I mean Nim of course cares about freeing Orpheus a bit for Lae'zel but...she does not think Lae'zel should swear herself to ANY master at this point. Not Orpheus, not Vlaakith- Lae should go live her life freely not underneath someone in Nim's mind so she's a bit less intent on freeing Orpheus as such.

[halamshirals]

he’s so funny

[astarioffsimpmain]

SAME.

unhinged post of the day:

Raphael and Haarlep can sandwich me and I would thank them for it.

[dark-and-kawaii]

Who would babytrap you out of the bg3 men 🙈

୨♡୧ Baby Trapping ୨♡୧

Halsin - Gale - Haarlep - Raphael - Gortash - Rolan

��˙⟡♡ Notes: Yes. Absolutely Yes. I got you babes xoxo

⋆˙⟡♡ NSFW | Breeding | Creampie | Baby Trapping

╰› Halsin’s obsession with you reached dangerous heights, fueled by a possessive jealousy that consumed his every thought. He knows the depths of his actions are morally wrong, but his desire for you overrides any rationality that remains within him. The way that other Druid looks at you, their eyes hungering for your body, it stirs an animalistic rage within Halsin.

Feigning urgency on important matters, deceiving both you and the unsuspecting Druid whom he pulled you away from, Halsin leads you deep into the forest, where his intentions come to fruition. Overwhelmed by his uncontrollable lust, he takes you forcefully, ravishing you until you're reduced to a quivering, moaning mess. The ecstasy of the moment blinds you as he spills his seed inside you without restraint, his desire to impregnate you driving him further.

Halsin wrestles with the weight of his actions, he knows it’s wrong to wish you pregnant like this, but the beast inside him demands otherwise. You, his chosen mate, his partner, you are his alone and he’ll make sure all the others know this.

╰› Haarlep is both possessive & greedy, always wanting more, especially if you’re Raphael’s little mouse. Haarlep’s not afraid to claim you as their toy if you’ve truly caught their attention. Through a combination of enchantment and manipulation the incubus ensnares you, captivating your senses and dominating your every thought. They exploit your deepest desires, using their irresistible allure to draw you deeper into their web of possession.

Your mind becomes foggy, a euphoric haze engulfing you, but it feels so damn good. The pleasure is intoxicating, so intense that the means by which it is achieved becomes inconsequential. All you crave is more. Haarlep's beautiful cock slides effortlessly into your eager depths, fitting you perfectly, as if it were the only thing that could ever satiate your desires. They make you yearn for their touch, their love, their vile seed. They use you as they please, taking what they desire from your body while painting your gummy walls white, leaving you begging, pleading for Haarlep to cum deep within Raphael’s precious little mouse, “P-please~ Cum n’inside Raphael’s s’little m-mouse!~”

By the time you come to your senses it’ll be too late. You’re nice and bloated with the creatures cum, they’ve claimed you, your body belongs to Haarlep now, and you will serve them well as the mother of their demon spawn.

╰› Raphael is filled with insecurities and has been his whole life but never dares show it. Not until you feel how how desperate his thrusts become, it’s almost pitiful. He’s so desperate to fill you with his offspring, it’s his way of proving to the infernal realms that he is the strongest, capable of producing the finest progeny to aid in his conquests and ruling.

Master manipulator, skilled at using his charm he'll make sure to bend your will to his desires, will purposely breakdown your defenses, prey upon your deepest fears and own insecurities, exploiting them to gain complete control over your body and soul.

“You need me,” is all he says, his eyes fixated on the way your tight cunt accommodates him with each forceful thrust. Each time he goes deeper and deeper causing you to whimper and clench his luxurious sheets… You can feel the bulge in your stomach each time the head of his shaft brushes against your cervix. It becomes evident that he places his ambitions and pleasure above all else, including your own needs and desires.

╰› Gortash deeply adores and values your presence, which is why he indulges in serving you drinks until you reach a delightful state of inebriation. Although you had expressed how you don’t wish to have another child, Gortash holds a different perspective on the matter. Not only has Bane compelled him to father more offspring, but Gortash himself yearns to create more beautiful children with you. And so, he will pursue that desire.

You hate how good it feels to have his cock filling you up, how euphoric and mind numbing it is. The alcohol in your system heightens the pleasure, it’s what has you creaming and cumming around Enver’s cock as he violates you, fucking you as if you wanted this. Gortash thrusts into you with a fervor that momentarily blurs the lines of consent, disregarding your wishes and capitalizing on the intoxication he facilitated.

"My dear, you are meant to grant me the joy of having the children I long for," he grunts. You attempt to shake your head, genuinely striving to communicate your objections, but the overwhelming pleasure drowns your attempts, leaving your mind awash in a sea of pleasure. He captures your lips in a possessive kiss, his desire evident in the intensity of his embrace, while his fingers dig into the softness of your thighs, marking you until you bleed. Finally, he releases a torrent of his cum deep within your fertile womb, leaving the possibility of new life to blossom within you.

╰› Rolan never really liked the idea of children, especially to sire his own. They were loud, smelly and a massive responsibility. However, once you came into his life that all began to change… Especially after your precious visit to Lorroakan’s tower… The way that man took hold of your hand and kissed the back of it as if he was paying homage to a queen or goddess made Rolan want to tear him apart limb from limb, his tail whipping back and forth.

That night something snapped within Rolan, the tiefling wanted nothing more than to make sure you were his, not that he feared of losing you or anything but it was as if his body needed to ensure that no other male could take you away. After all, who would want you if you were swollen with a “Hell spawn’s” child?

Rolan had never released himself inside you, so you were shocked when you felt a thick warm substance coating your insides as well as the his cock. You gasped at the feeling, looking back up at Rolan who was biting his lip, he didn't look at all fazed by this. No, instead he looked as though a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Rolan held your hips tightly as he pulled out of you, a small bit of his cum escaping and sliding down your inner thigh before thrusting back inside you. one load wasn’t enough, he needed to be sure…

╰› Gale is obsessed with creampies and breeding along with the idea of you carrying his children. He becomes consumed by the singular desire to impregnate you, their beloved. The images that flood his mind of you and him walking around Waterdeep, his hand on your swollen belly, it drives him insane.

He’d tell you there’s nothing to fear, that he won’t cum within you, instead he’ll decorate your perfect tummy with his cum… Only for him to lie and actually release his seed against your cervix. His grunts fill the room along with false apologies.

The kind of man to spike your drink so you sleep soundly as he fucks you nice and deep. It only takes a few mere moments until he's cumming deep inside you. Don't worry, he always does his best to clean you up so you aren't suspicious. The next morning he'd feign concern when you awake drowsy not feeling the best, a new cup of tea awaiting you in his hands.