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reallyhatethiswebsite · 6 months ago

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dark/cunty raphael, devils being devils (this has been done to death but i just wanted to write him being awful) once again thank you @pouralaura for your advice and encouragement you are the best

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He wasn't supposed to be back yet.

Tav panicked. Wide eyed, she pleaded with Hope's flickering apparition. “Are you sure?” She hissed. “Are you sure he's back?”

“YesyesYES can't you feel it?! He's home, the master is home and he brings blood and pain and death!” Hope shrieked. “I have to go, you have to go, we all have to go!”

“No, Hope, wait! I need your help!”

“I can't help you anymore,” the poor crazed thing said, coherent for this moment just to fix Tav with a sad, pitying look. “Just like you can't help me anymore. But thanks for trying. I'll remember it forever. He's going to hurt you and he's going to kill you and I'm sorry.”

Her phantom faded into nothing and Tav was left alone in the claustrophobic halls. Maybe she tripped a hidden alarm or ward. Maybe she simply took too long. All she knew was that, if Hope was right, she'd squandered likely the only chance she had of sneaking into Raphael's home and taking the hammer. And Hope was definitely right. Tav felt it. A change to the air. The wailing of souls muted, exhalated.

He was here.

The plan had been very simple: her friends distract Raphael by pretending to consider and discuss his contract “behind her back”, and she heads to the diabolist to get a portal open, go in, steal the hammer, and leave. It was much easier to sneak a single person through, and Raphael would've been none the wiser. Only, she wasn't prepared enough for the House of Hope. She wasn't prepared for its namesake. She wasn't prepared for Raphael's dark, dirty secrets parading in her face.

Gale called her ludicrous. Mad. Idiotic. And yet when she pressed him for a better option, for a way to keep the crown and save Orpheus from the Emperor's vile clutches, he came up empty. They were stretched thin, resources and resilience at their breaking points.

“Let it be me, then,” he'd said. “Let it be me who gets the hammer.”

“I'm a better sneak than you,” Tav had argued. She was willing to take the risk for him. So he could be free of Mystra, free of the orb. Free. He knew. He'd pressed their foreheads together, holding her close.

“Come back to me,” he'd whispered. “Promise you'll come back.”

Tav might not be able to deliver the hammer, but she could still escape. All she had to do was hide, and sneak back to her portal before Raphael found her. The house was so big, like a damn maze. Tav tried to remember where she'd come from, where she'd left her portal, but the gaudy halls and creepy gilded statues all looked the same. She thought she recognised the dining room from when he'd first brought her here so long ago, taunting her with the offer of aid. The table was covered in rotten food. Mutilated skeletons filled the seats. Shaken, Tav moved on.

Shit.

She caught sight of Raphael prowling the corridors outside, his expression stormy. He was still in his human guise, but his hellish fury bubbled just barely beneath the surface. Swallowing a sharp inhale before it gave her away, Tav tucked herself behind a pillar and prayed he hadn’t seen her.

“I know you're here, little mouse,” he rumbled, burning brown eyes scanning every nook and cranny. Tav bit her lip. Her stomach dropped. He exuded overwhelming diabolical power. Tav knew she stood no chance against him alone. “You must think me a dullard. Your friends show up at the Devil's Den without you, interested in a contract of all things when they were so staunchly against me before, and then I feel my wards breached telling me there is an intruder scurrying about my home…why, such coincidental timing. I wonder, who could be creeping around? What could they be looking for?”

In hindsight, the plan was never going to work. Of course he had wards everywhere. Of course he was too clever for their ruse. But they were desperate. Just as the devil promised they would be, by the end. Just the way he wanted them. All hope wasn't yet lost. If she could only escape…

“Did you think you could fool me? That any hair-brained schemes concocted in your simple, tadpole-addled minds would succeed? It's almost amusing, were it not so outrageous.” Raphael ranted. So verbose even in his anger. And yet, Tav could hear his liquid smile in the words he purred next. “How about this? For old times’ sake, for my most cherished client who never was… If you show yourself now and beg me well enough, I might make your death quick. But the longer you hide, the longer it takes for me to find you - and I will find you - the longer I'll spend peeling your pretty skin from your flesh.”

The devil was striding away, deeper into his house. Tav snatched the opportunity to dart out into the foyer. She remembered now, those big metal doors. Where Hope had first been waiting. Tav’s portal was behind them. Poor Hope. Rejuvenated by relief, Tav vowed to find a way to save her. Even if she had to storm the house again, with her team this time, and swing the cudgel of justice down on Raphael’s head. Smash his dirty devil brains out. She’d relish doing so. The doors were ajar. Tav slipped through. She could practically taste her safety. The grungy corrupted streets of Baldur’s Gate had never been so welcoming…

Except there was no portal.

For a moment she simply stood there in disbelief. Denial. A scorched circle on the marble floor was the lone indicator that a portal had ever existed in the first place. A taunting shadow. As she stared at nothing, the damned souls forever trapped - just like her - seemed to laugh.

Despair. The likes of which Tav hadn’t felt since she awoke on the beach and realised everything that happened on the nautiloid wasn’t a bad dream. It crawled up her throat and threatened to make her scream. She stuffed the meat of her hand in her mouth and bit down. The pain grounded her. Panic wouldn’t help. There had to be other portals. Ones Raphael or his cronies used to get about in the material plane. She’d jump through one of them. It didn’t matter where she ended up; it would be easy enough to get back to Baldur’s Gate. She crept out into the halls again. A flash of red in the corner of her eye catapulted her into motion. She’d never been more aware of the noise her boots made, how heavy her footsteps were, how loud each panting breath was. She ran, crawled behind a big statue, and made herself as small as possible.

“Come out, little mouse,” the devil crooned sweet poison from somewhere, his voice drifting through the empty spaces of his home, echoing off the walls and floors, impossible to ignore. “Come out come out, wherever you are…”

Fear bubbled in Tav’s churning gut. Her heart pounded against her ribs in protest. In her ever-shrinking world of mind flayers, crazed cultists, monsters and apostles and madness, Raphael had been but a blip on her threat radar. She hadn’t given him much concern, or consideration. A mistake. One she might not live to rectify.

I’m sorry, Gale…

“It was bold of you to come here alone, you know. Bold, but so very foolish. I suppose you got the idea in your worm-eaten skull that you were faster than your companions. Stealthier. Or was it they who convinced you?” Raphael’s tone twisted, honed into a dagger aiming at a specific target. A soft target. “I wonder, did they do it because they really thought you might succeed? Or because they knew you wouldn’t? A chain is only as strong as its weakest link, after all…”

Tav chewed the inside of her cheek. Raphael, she’d learned, was very good at hurting people without even raising a finger. Words were weapons for him as much as his claws or infernal magics. She wouldn’t let him bait her.

Peering out of her spot, the coast was clear enough for Tav to risk moving. She thought about it. The devil was quiet, had been for a little while, either out of things to say - unlikely - or finally far away enough that she could no longer hear him. After another few moments of hesitation, Tav took the chance, flitting down an empty corridor. Prayed the next room she entered would hold something useful.

She never made it.

As she rounded a corner, a hand shot out and snatched her by the hair. Thick fingers dug into her scalp, yanked her so harshly a joint in her neck popped.

“Got you,” the devil snarled, right into her ear. Tav shrieked, instinctively scratching at Raphael’s hand. All it seemed to do was incense him further.

“Let go of me!” She yelled.

“Oh, how the mouse squirms when it’s been caught,” Raphael intoned, low, almost sensual were it not for the bite of murder lingering in the depths. He manipulated her to look at him, so she could see the contempt and loathing on his handsome face. “But you aren’t a mouse, are you? No. You’re a rat. Just like your little friends.”

“Did you hurt them?!” The pain of her hair being pulled at the roots made tears bead at the corners of Tav’s eyes. She fought to regain her footing. Glared at Raphael anyway.

“And what would you do if I had?” The devil jeered. He released her hair, only to close his fist around her throat instead. “No, no. Despite your collective stupidity, someone still needs to clean up the mess that is the netherbrain. Although I don’t imagine they have much chance of success after this…” Raphael squeezed her throat harder. Claws dug pinpricks into her skin as he let his rage change him, shed his human disguise. He shook her, easily lifting her from the ground so her legs dangled, black and orange eyes ferocious. “You had every opportunity to accept my deal. It was fair. The hammer for the crown. An artefact you cannot even hope to use or understand, for the only chance you had to free yourself from the Emperor. To free Orpheus. And yet you’ve chosen to spit in my face despite my patience, my clemency. Why?”

Tav gagged, struggled to speak around her crushing windpipe. Black spots began to dance at the edges of her vision. The devil loosened his grip enough so she could answer. His pride demanded it. “You…the crown should…go to Mystra. For Gale. He spoke to her. She said…said she could fix him, get rid of the orb if…if he…the crown…” Tav broke off, coughing, choking, gasping for air. Her tears finally spilled over, dripping down her cheeks.

“You’ve done this for Gale?” Raphael seethed with peculiar jealousy. He dropped her, watched her stumble. Then he laughed; a cruel, sharp sound that went on for too long. “If you truly believe your precious wizard intends to return the crown to his cantankerous trollop ex-lover instead of using it for himself, then you are more naive and gullible than I ever imagined.”

Tav scowled, rubbing her neck. “He promised,” she rasped. “He…”

“He promised,” the devil mocked. “Oh yes, I’m sure he did. I’m sure he meant it.”

“He wouldn’t lie! He’s never lied to me!”

Raphael tilted his horn-crowned head. Stared at her like she was an idiot. “Hasn’t he?”

Just like before, Raphael was aiming for her soft spots - but this time, this one, was already bruised. He was right. Gale had lied. About the orb, about his feelings for Mystra, even about abandoning his desire to ascend. The first thing he’d done when he learned the true nature of the crown was consider how he could take advantage of it. Not the behaviour of a man changed. But Tav had faith in him. Believed in him. Her niggling doubts meant nothing.

“No.” She said in defiance. Ignored the way her weak voice wobbled. “You’re just trying to poison me against him. You don’t understand anything.”

“Don’t I?” Raphael crooned, viciously amused. “I think it’s you who doesn't understand. Let me put it this way, so that even you can comprehend: why would a power-hungry magelet with a chip on his shoulder abandon decades of ambition for some little bint he found on the roadside, when he could have hundreds – thousands of warm and willing holes to wet his cock with if he becomes a so-called god? Do you think you’re worth that sacrifice? Does Gale think you are? I’m sure he says lots of sweet things when he’s inside you, just as I’m sure he said the same things to Mystra, and we all know how that worked out…”

“Stop,” Tav begged. Sobbed.

“No,” the devil sneered. Utterly merciless. “It’s high time you faced the reality of your actions. You have doomed a future for the githyanki free from tyranny, you have doomed your friends’ chance to escape the emperor’s machinations, and you have doomed yourself, sweet pet, to reap what you sow – all for the sake of a man who rolled over you because you were the first woman in years to say yes. You wanted to enter my house without permission? Fine. Then you’ll stay for eternity.”

She recoiled in horror, the implication making her blood run cold. She’d rather he killed her and he knew it. “You can’t keep me here!”

“I think you’ll find I can, girl,” Raphael said, malicious, quiet. His gaze flayed her alive, peeled away layers of skin and muscle to stare at her very soul. “For in this house, in this pocket of Hell, I am the master, and that means I can do whatever I want.”

A sick, bitter pill to swallow: he was right.

“Fine!” Tav laughed maniacally, the futility of the situation driving her to reckless anger. “Fine, you evil bastard! I suppose you’ll have a pet squid soon, then. Have you always wanted one of those? Was it a boyhood dream, if you were a boy once? I hear ink stains are a bitch to get out of silk rugs.” As soon as she said it, Tav wished she had kept her mouth shut. She’d done everything wrong since entering that portal. Everything. Raphael’s shrewd hellish eyes narrowed as he considered something. Tav watched him raise his fingers, ready to snap, with dawning horror; if he did this, she wouldn’t just be stuck with him forever. She would owe him forever. A fate so much worse. “No! Wait! You don’t – I’m sure I won’t transform! It’s different in Hell, right?!”

“I’d rather not take the chance,” Raphael murmured, enjoying this moment of despair. “I’m not too fond of tentacles, you see. And besides…I promised I could be your saviour, didn’t I? Even though you hardly deserve it, I'm nothing if not magnanimous, after all.”

CLICK.

Such a small sound heralding a monumental, irreversible change.

Agony. The likes of which Tav couldn’t comprehend. Her skull splitting apart, bursting from the inside, her brains chewed up and spat out, eyes and teeth and tongue destroyed, sinuses burning…it only lasted for a few brief seconds, maybe, but the next thing she knew she was on her hands and knees. Frothy blood and bile oozed from her nose and mouth. Her body shook violently. Her head felt like it was full of water. She wasn’t sure, but she might have pissed herself a little bit. She stared up at the devil through bleary wet eyes and saw him watching her. Savouring her suffering. Floating in his palm was her tadpole, sluggish and covered in gore. Covered in her brains.

“Hmmm…I suppose I could have used less force for the extraction,” Raphael mused, unapologetic. He squinted at the ugly cosmic horror larva with disdain. “I was led to believe these things were near-impossible to remove. Clearly not. Such weak magic. That worthless boy still has a lot to learn.” He curled his fingers inward and the tadpole caught fire, writhing and screaming as it died. Rendered to ash. Then he smiled at Tav, placid, almost business-like, as if he hadn’t just up-ended her entire existence. Her suffering had greatly improved his mood. “There we are. Now you won’t have to worry about those lovely guts of yours dissolving any time soon. Not before I get to sample them, at least.”

“I’d rather be a mind flayer,” Tav slurred quietly. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She felt hollow. Without that tadpole – as awful as it had been – she couldn’t reach her friends or even the emperor to beg for help. She knew they were pragmatic. They would stick to the plan, even Gale. They’d realise something went wrong and cut their losses. Poor Orpheus. She’d known the risk, being the one breaking in. Made certain they wouldn’t risk storming this infernal psycho’s little castle to rescue her, not when the elder brain was so unstable and they were so close to vanquishing the Absolute cult, but at least pretending it was an option would’ve given her something to hold onto.

“And ruin that delightful complexion of yours? Perish the thought.” The devil reached to wrap one big paw around her forearm and tugged her upright. Tav was too weak to pull away. She barely stayed on her feet. The room and everything in it swayed. Until it was forced to stop by his hot clawed hand holding her jaw firm. Raphael’s image swam into focus. He gently turned her head this way and that. He was examining her; examining his new property. His new trophy. “Can’t fault the magelet’s taste. You are a pretty little thing. And now you’re my pretty little thing.”

He pushed his thumb into her mouth. She could taste the sulphur and hellish magic even over the copper sticking to her gums and teeth. She bit him, tried to, but Raphael wasn’t phased. He dug his thumb claw into her tongue instead, pressing until he pierced the muscle, until Tav cried out. Fresh blood welled from the small puncture wound.

“Behave,” the devil simply said, like he was talking to a naughty puppy.

“Never,” Tav spat. Raphael seemed to like that answer, if the sparkle in his eyes and his rich chuckle were any indication.

“Oh, you’ll learn, my little pet. One way or the other.” He dragged his thumb out of her mouth, smearing blood and spit across her lips. His pupils expanded as he looked upon her. He found this arousing, Tav realised, more repulsed than she’d ever been in her life.

“You make me sick,” she hissed.

“You have no idea just how sick I could truly make you,” he purred around a sinister smile, “but we have all the time in the world for that, don’t we? Thanks to you, I’ve got a lot more work to do now. Plans to tweak, contingencies to set up, that sort of thing. I don’t expect you to understand, but unfortunately it means I won’t be able to break you in quite yet. But fret not, you shan’t be alone. Haarlep can keep an eye on you until I return.”

Tav didn’t get the chance to ask what a Haarlep was. Raphael displaced them both into the boudoir. So sudden, and she was still so unsteady. She’d have fallen on her face if Raphael wasn’t holding her. Instead she leaned on him until her vision stopped spinning. He chuckled cruelly.

“Not to worry, love. I’ve got you.”

Tav yanked herself free – he let her go this time – and staggered away from him, collapsing onto the big bed nearby. She wasn’t the only one sprawled on those red silk sheets; a creature that looked like Raphael but softer, younger, and dressed much skimpier, lounged. He perked up with interest, peering at her. Two of them…Tav truly was in Hell.

“What’s this?” The lookalike asked in a perfect, if airy, imitation of Raphael’s voice.

“A new pet. Clean her up. And don’t do anything else or you’ll be skinned and hung out to dry like Nubaldin. I mean it, Haarlep.”

Another click of those devilish fingers and Raphael was gone. Haarlep crawled across the bed like a huge, nasty cat, eyeing Tav up and down.

“Hmm…not quite breeding stock, but I suppose you’ll do.” He pawed at her. “Come on, then. Get up.”

“Take your hands off me!” Tav cringed away, drooling pinkish red froth. “I’ll kill you, I swear it.”

Haarlep tutted, amused. “You couldn’t kill a mouse right now, little pet. And I don’t need your compliance to get you off this bed. There are many ways, and I can’t promise you’ll enjoy all of them…”

The suggestion in his voice made Tav grit her bloodied teeth. Her skin crawled. “You’re just as twisted as Raphael, aren’t you?”

Haarlep cackled. “Oh no, sweet thing. I’m much worse.”

Tav ended up in the luxurious bathing pool, only after Haarlep callously pulled her clothes and armour off, telling her she should get used to it because the concept of her privacy no longer existed. The steaming water seemed to heal her physical injuries, easing the savage pain in her skull, but that simply meant she had more cognizance to think about how awful her situation really was. Her attempt at drowning herself was thwarted by a heavy clawed hand pulling her head out of the water by her hair. They seemed to like doing that, these fiends.

“Now, now. Don’t make me charm you,” Haarlep chided as Tav coughed and sputtered. “As funny as it would be for my brat to come back to a floating corpse, he obviously doesn’t want you dead yet, and I’d rather not be flayed. It’s not as erotic as those priests of pain make it out to be, trust me.”

“Fuck you,” Tav spat, digging her nails into Haarlep’s hand. He didn’t seem to feel it. Just like his master. A fly biting a dragon.

“In due time, lovely. In due time. Now…do you prefer red or gold?”

Like an overzealous child with a new doll, Haarlep stuffed Tav into a gold silken house robe – sheer, reaching just above her knees, thin enough that her nipples were easy to see. By this point she was despondent, allowing him to pull her this way and that. When he deemed her “good enough” he grew bored of her and went back to lounging on the bed. Tav wandered the boudoir aimlessly, not really seeing anything, until she found herself on a balcony overlooking the destitute landscape of Avernus from a great height. The House of Hope must be floating somewhere, she thought absently. Isolated even in Hell. If she jumped, Tav wondered how long she’d be falling before she hit the ground and what kind of mess she’d leave behind.

“Don’t even think about it,” Haarlep cheerfully called to her.

Tav slid to the ground, buried her face in her knees, and wept.

Time passed differently, strangely, in Hell. Tav existed in a fugue state of misery, unable to be sure. Days, weeks, months could have passed since she failed to steal from Raphael; since Raphael stole her. Almost all of it had been spent in the boudoir, an incubus and cambion her keepers both.

She sat on the balcony when Raphael came to her, as she often did. Passing the minutes, hours, staring out at Avernus. The devil had been away for a while. He smelled of fresh air, of the material plane, taunting her with what she’d never experience again. He seemed strangely pleased despite all his plans going awry. “I thought you might like to know that your friends destroyed the brain,” he told her as he poured himself some wine. “Baldur’s Gate – and Faerun as a whole, is saved.”

At least that was a relief.

“And you should also know that Gale decided to use the crown of Karsus to ascend. I believe he is now calling himself the god of ambition…how very droll.” Although Tav had come to accept this was a likely outcome, the information still sank like a rock in her stomach; of course, the devil wasn’t done. “I had thought he might come knocking at my door, threatening to smite me should I not release your soul, but…it seems your darling has forgotten about you, pet. Much more interesting things to do now that he’s reached the Heavens, I would imagine.”

Tav bit her tongue. Hope truly came to these cursed halls to die. Snuffed out before it had a chance to unfurl, but she wouldn’t give this wretch the satisfaction of knowing she was upset.

“So…what are you going to do, then? The crown is completely out of your reach.” She thought that would sting him. An acknowledgement of his own failure. Of a dream ruined. If he lashed out, all the better, because she’d know she’d got under his skin. Small (miniscule) victories.

“Hmm…for now,” he hummed. He swirled the wine in his goblet as he spoke. “You see, I came to quite an interesting realisation. Had you honoured the deal, I could have taken the crown and ascended to Archdevil Supreme. Yes, I could have conquered the Hells and perhaps moved on to other realms to unite under my power, but there would have always been a place I simply couldn’t reach.”

“The heavens…” Tav breathed in slow, horrifying realisation. Raphael smiled widely, dark eyes glittering.

“Yes, very good. Right where your little godlet is now. The very place he will eventually destroy. Just like Karsus, Gale Dekarios’ hubris will ruin him. Unlike Karsus, Gale will bring the heavens down with him, and when he does, who shall be there to gleefully sift through the ashes but I? You see, I will get the crown, my dear, sweet pet. All I have to do is wait.” He reached forward, tucking a lock of Tav’s hair behind her ear. His touch deceptively tender. Like a lover. “I should thank you, in fact. If you hadn’t broken into my home, it’s likely you would have convinced Gale to give the crown to Mystra, and then it truly would have been beyond my grasp. But without your voice of reason and support, well…old habits die hard, don’t they? I must say, I’m looking forward to the day the heavens crumble. The collapse of Karsus’ empire was breathtaking, but this…oh, this will be something else entirely. And don’t worry, pet. Whether it happens in one hundred years or one thousand, I’ll make sure you’re there to see it, too.”

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #fanfic #cringe #raphael the cambion

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yurinaa-world · 5 months ago

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"𝒩𝑜 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝑒𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Jiaoqiu x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: You've got Jiaoqiu so mad at you, because of a mistake, you're injured pretty badly. yet Jiaoqiu doesn't seem happy about this predicament and it's obvious by the red liquid he's thrown in a bowl for you to eat.

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling mistakes

💫𝒥𝒾𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓊 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔"

Injuries weren’t uncommon when it came to Jiaoqiu field, he’s seen many come to him or him coming to them, all with the hope he may be able to help them.

Of course, he was able to help. (some but not all). Cooking was a critical variable for the healing, don’t get shocked just because his medicine is food instead of the traditional meds, syrups, and bodily creams people usually use.

Yet he seems to have a habit…to add a lot of spice. For you he might have just added a way more than necessary, is it because he’s mad at you because you got injured like a completely incompetent fool? Maybe.

“No way…I can’t do it!”

Just looking at the bowl presented to you made you sick from just the smell of it, you could feel your nostrils just burning that diabolical smell of spice to it, it was bright red, did it even have anything beneath the liquid? Meat? Vegetables? Who knows? The red liquid is too thick, making you think he mixed chilly powder with water.

Yet Jiaoqiu doesn’t even have a chance to glance at you, his eyes focusing on his cooking, the swift sounds of him chopping chillies echoing throughout the room, the knife hitting the wooden cutting board. The air around him darkened, even you can feel it from where you’re sitting.

“You’re going to have to eat if you want your injury to heal faster.”

No sing-songy the tone he usually has when talking to you, but right now it came out dry and died. He even throws more chillies into the bat of ‘acid’ that was already boiling on the stove. None of this was helping.

You just give up since he wasn’t going to give you a new dish or let you leave. taking a large spoon of the thick liquid. ‘No way, no way!’ You can’t do it, you can’t! Sticking out your tongue just to take one drop.

It was nasty! Your tongue just burns, completely dropping the spoon back into the bowl, and jumping to get some water down your throat. Even after two cups that burn is still on your tongue, it might be burning your taste buds.

“You're an evil and sick man, Jiaoqiu!”

He just sighs at you, leaving the pot he was stirring. Seriously, he just caused you some emotional and physical damage, now HE'S the one sighing. Pulling out the sit in front of you, pouring in a packet of something unknown before mixing it in; taking the spoon and putting it right in your view, asking, no, forcing you to eat with that malice look on his face.

He can’t be serious! Looking at it with suspicion, as if it wasn’t spicy before.

“No way I’m eating that—“ shoving your mouth into your mouth the second he gets an opening.

It wasn’t…spicy anymore? He had a way to fix it but chose not to! “You gave it extra spicy on purpose!”

“It was your punishment for being so reckless.”

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#✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ Yurinna's Writing :･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧#hsr x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #star rail #star rail x reader #hsr jiaoqiu #jiaoqiu #jiaoqiu x reader #jiaoqiu x you

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seuonji · 8 months ago

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彡 lend me a bit of your touch and see me. — chwe vernon

notes ๑ as vernon cooks for the two of you, you slowly lose hope in his abilities but he’s persistent in having you eat the meals her prepares, even if he needs to force you to try it.

genre ๑ roommates! platonic to romance? fluff.

warnings ๑ non!

word count ๑ 0.4k

from aya: please reblog if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated<3

the lights were dim in your cozy apartment that you shared with your roommate vernon.

you sat on the corner of your couch as you scrolled on your phone. today, it was vernons turn to cook and all was well and peaceful until you heard a harsh blow of flames and suddenly the cozy apartment smelled as if you were to be burnt.

“vernon.” you said said sternly.

“i’m fine,” he calmly replied.

“i’m sure you are, i’m not quite sure how you haven’t died yet. but is the kitchen okay?” your footsteps ascended towards the kitchen and vernon was to say the least, fumbling. you could hear him scrambling and the sound of his spatula clanking onto the pan became louder.

as your body was visible to vernon’s sight, he paused and turned the stove off.

your eyes averted to the pan and you seemed, bewildered.

vernon looked at the pan then to you.

he took a deep breath and reassured, “it is not that bad.”

“what am i even looking at?”

“egg fried rice?”

“why are you talking as if you don’t know what you’re making?”

he shrugged and looked back to the pan.

“we are ordering today.”

“HARSH!”

you slowly walked away defeated. you thought if you gave your roommate more chances to cook in his own time he would eventually learn how to do it right especially in the case he needs to cook for his future partner but that thought is looking bleak now.

“no, ynnie, c’mere!” pulled you by your arm. your body faced his and you fell out of balance and your were sandwiched onto him but he took no time to make you try the diabolical work he’s created from his cauldron.

you chewed a bit and it was a bit burnt and over seasoned but, it was good.

you looked at him and slowly noticed the position you two were in.

you coughed and parted, “that’s actually not bad.”

he had his vernon smile on, “told you!”

“yeah, i’m excited to eat. come i’ll set the table.”

he nodded and cleaned the kitchen a bit before bring the food to the table.

you quietly collected the plates and some utensils but there was a slight clatter being made from you shaking. you’ve never seen vernon in such a light but his touch with no inches in between you two. why did it feel nice.

why did it make your heart race?

#🐚☆#📢aya wrote!#caratsland #vernon #vernon chwe #seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #svt imagines #vernon x reader #vernon x you #vernon x y/n

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radio-navlee · 11 months ago

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Not so tough now huh?

I really wasnt expecting the poll to get so many votes!! Heres what you guys have voted on <3

Lee!Jax Ler!Ragatha

Summary: Jax finally pushed Ragatha over the edge causeing her to find something out about the annyoing rabbit.

Jax smirked to himself, setting up the most diabolical prank on his dear ol’ friend.

He’d been planning on getting Ragatha for weeks. He had completely transformed the rag dolls room into something you’d seen out of home alone.

String and marbles practically covered her room. Foam balls, feathers, water buckets and paint set up to hit her as she walked in.

“3…2…1” Jax counted down watching Ragatha close her door behind her. He could hear a muffled, ‘What the?’ Come from the doll herself. The marble rolled into a small hole triggering scissors to cut string sending the bucket of water over her bed, the water spilled everywhere and into a lower placed bucket below activating the foam balls to sore through the air hitting targets around the room. Finally it ended with a bucket of paint spattering on her head with another balloon filled with feather to pop.

“…..JAX!!!” Ragatha screamed causing Jax to chuckle to himself already booking it down the hall.

Ragatha, surprisingly, cleaned herself off quickly and darted after him

“JAX YOU JERK!!”

“THAT WAS SO WORTH IT!!” Jax yelled back

After 5 minutes of Ragatha chasing Jax, he started to get tired. He felt like it was the longest game of tag, where Ragatha was it and he was playing for his life.

Jax, now starting to panic, realizing that Ragatha was not slowing down. Regatha was so determined to catch him. Every time Jax would fumble over himself he would scream. Scared to what would happen if he did fall with the doll hot on his trail.

eventually he backed himself into a corner. He spun around to try to run but Ragatha was already there.

“Raggs…. Please… it was…. Just a joke!” Jax panted, catching his breath

“Oh that was no joke, that was a prank! A prank you fully thought out!” Ragatha pointed out

“Look, let’s… talk about it! How about we make a deal?” Jax suggested

“I’m listening”

“Okay, how about this! You let me go….” Jax inched his way slowly trying to get past Ragatha, “and I promise…. TO RUN- EuGH!” Jax ran full speed thinking he was getting away, only for a plushy hand to stop him.

“Not a chance” Ragatha said holding Jax by his upper arm.

“Let go!” Jax tried to pull away

“No!” Ragatha squeezed his arm causing Jax to let out a yelp

“…..”

“…Jax?”

“..what….” Jax face got hot, he didn’t know he could still be ticklish after entering the digital world!!

“Jax what was that?”

“.. a cry for help?” Jax tried to excuse. Ragatha squeezed again causing Jax to yelp again

“Are you-?”

“No…”

“Because you sound like your-”

“I’m not..”

Ragatha smirked, "You're not what?"

"uhhh.." Jax blanked, too embarssed to say anything just in case it wasnt that. Ragatha spun Jax grabbing both arms pinning them both above his head. Jax gave her the most panicked look he could give, seeing as Ragatha didnt give him the 'you ok?' look, Jax was doomed.

“So if I do this” Ragatha pinched at Jax’s sides “you’re sure you're not..?”

“gAH- Rahahags!!” Jax nearly jumped out of his skin. He started to squirm and giggle as Ragatha continued to tease and tickle him

“Oh so you are ticklish?” Ragatha smiled moving her way up and spidering across the poor bunny’s ribs

“NohOHO! WAIHAhaeheHAT!!” Jax complained and groaned through his giggles, he shook his head frantically as Ragatha moved up.

“Somebody’s sensitive!!” The doll teased, tickling right below where his ribs meet his armpits. The anticipation was literally eating at Jax.

“RAhaHags!! PLEheEase!!” Jax panted, trying to make himself sound as tired as possible.

“Shouldn’t have set that prank up, this would have never happened!” Ragatha growled, remembering the mess she gonna have to clean up when she gets back.

Jax shut his eyes as the rag doll massaged into his armpits. Jax nearly screeched, he turned his head into his pined up arms to try to muffle anything. He’d hate it if somebody came looking for them to find the predicament he was in.

“RAHFAHFAHGS!!” He stomped his feet below himself to try to diffract himself from the tickling

“Sorry, am I in a bad spot?” Ragatha teased

Jax sighed as Ragatha slowed down her torturous hand. Jax’s cheeks turned pink straight out of embarrassment. Just as Jax thought Ragatha was done, she put her hand on the side of his neck. Crap

“Wha- what are you doing?” Jax asked nervously

“Take a wild guess rabbit!” Ragatha stated as she tickled into his neck

Jax squealed scrunching up his neck and throwing his head back. Ragatha immediately noticed how Jax no longer wanted to muffle his laugh. Jax just chucked freely as Ragatha moved her hand to his ears.

“AH- Waitwaitwaitwait!! Ragatha!! Ihavetowarnyounowpleaseimgoingtoscream WAIT!!” Ragatha held his two ears in place and slowly blew air onto them. Jax screamed followed by loud laughter, he squirmed and shook his head but he couldn’t shake her off

“RAGAHATHAHA!! *Squeal* GAHAHA!!” Jax, now more embarrassed than ever, sat there laughing seeing as there was nothing else he could do. Ragatha tickled the tops of Jax’s ears, still blowing onto the bottom part.

Jax was in practically in pieces giggling and taking deep breaths when Ragatha would inhale giving him time to breathe before she would exhale again. Ragatha stoped once Jax started to get wheezy

“You ok?” Ragatha asked as Jax sat on the floor

“I uhh, *HIC* ohmygod” Jax completely shut down covering his face with his hands while his embarrassment covered his face

“Did I go to far?” Ragatha giggled, she never saw Jax like this. She laid her hand over his shoulder causing Jax to jump as the sudden contact

“No uh *HIC* you’re good it’s just- *HIC* these damn hiccups.” Jax explained, his frustration only getting worse as he continued to hiccup

“Stay here, I’ll get you some water” Ragatha smiled. She was back to her old self again, Jax didn’t complain and watched her run off.

He rubbed his ears free of the ghost tickles, bringing one down to his vision. ‘Weird’ he thought. He leaned up against once of the walls and eventually fell asleep.

Jax shot up, expecting to still be sat up on a wall, instead he was in his bed. He looked around confused, until spotting a glass of water and a note on his night stand. He sipped the water and opened the note

“Hey Jax,

I saw you were passed out so I brought you back to your room. I also brought you the water I said I was going to get. You might have been confused how you got back in your room, that’s why I’m writing this. I’ll be in my room tidying up YOUR mess.

-Doll Face”

Well, that solves that mystery…Jax grabbed a pen and paper.

He opened his door carefully looking to see anybody, but nobody was there, good. He found Ragathas door and crouched down. He slid the note under her door with a knock and booked it back to his room.

———————

Ragatha heard a knock on her door while cleaning up the mess Jax’s prank caused. ‘Probably just a dig dong ditch’ she thought hearing the sound of feet running away. She looked over to the door anyways, ‘a note?’ Ragatha walked over picking up the note and opening it up.

“Hi Rags,

Thanks for not leaving me in that corner and I guess thanks for the water. You better not mention this to anybody. I mean it. It was already embararsing enough,

-Jax”

‘he missed spelled embarrassing’ Ragatha giggled. I guess he was right, he did look really embarrassed. But this is the first time he’d thank Rags for something, this was once in a life time.

Ragatha looked at her trash can, then her storage box. She thought for a minute, then put the note in her box.

(I AM SOOOOOO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK😭🙏 lots of stuff has happened but do not worry! Your goul is back🩷)

#tickle #tickles #sfw tickling community #tickle fanfic #tickle fic #tadc tickles #lee!jax #ler!ragatha #The Amazing Digital Circus Tickle #tickle fluff

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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months ago

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Drawing each other (CRPs 2/2)

I'm probably going to have beaten the game by the time this posts but guys I need leshy follower you dont understand he looks so crinkly (referring to cult of the lamb) this part was originally going to have bloody painter and puppeteer but uhuh... too many characters for me and the need to keep playing COTL is smashing my desire to write

Characters: jeff the killer, nina the killer, laughing jack, eyeless Jack, ben Drowned,

Notes: reader is GN, admin does a coin toss on whether or not the reader is an artist, ben is strictly platonic the others can be seen as any relationship

CWs: none

JEFF THE KILLER

cannot draw for shit, when he passes his drawing of you to you it looks like a total mess- there was some effort though so you do your best to not laugh

though he seems to be a mostly good sport about it as long as youre not actually maliciously bashing his art

a little jealous that youre an artist and thus your piece turned out better than his but it soon shifts into him thinking over things hes good at to make himself feel better

in a "well you cant do (x) but i can so haha" kind of way

will get legitimately offended if you jokingly add something like stink lines on your drawing of him

NINA THE KILLER

draws a lot and adds a lot to her drawings: vibrant colors, stickers, glitter, patterned tapes- anything she can get her hands on really! obligatory her art resembles the old scene and emo art styles from back in the day

she doesnt care if your art of her isnt the best, shes going to love it either way and will keep it on her at all times

hypes you up and compliments the parts of your art she likes- whether it be coloring, anatomy, or general vibe shes going to find something to say in order to uplift you

generally enjoys spending any time with you so shes instantly going to take you up on the offer of drawing each other whenever you bring up the idea- or just drawing anything together

or doing anything together

LAUGHING JACK

cannot draw but does not care one bit, just as long as hes having fun

may or may not purposefully make his drawing of you look as diabolical as possible, you can tell hes up to something thanks to his hushed giggling- of course he doesnt draw anything offensive or hurtful

if youre aware youre not the best artist and often poke fun at it, you both end up just making fun of each others pieces

which sometimes turns into the both of you scribbling on your own pieces to add some exaggerated detail in order to push the joke further

EYELESS JACK

he sometimes draws in order to pass the time when he has nothing to do, sometimes you give him new art supplies when hes running low and you can afford it

or sometimes you just share, since you have your own

drawing him was... easy... given hes more than likely wearing his mask the whole time so you put in effort to add some details

jack on the other hand takes his time to get it down right

leads into you asking him how he can see given his obvious lack of eyes, which makes the atmosphere feel a little off but thats... another idea for another day..

gives genuine and sincere compliments when looking at your work, takes his time like he did when he drew you, in order to take it in

BEN DROWNED

i like to think he used to draw before he drowned and died, usually drawing stuff that matched his interests. the same thing over and over

though i can see him getting a little rusty due to not having the chance or means to draw... you can see him getting visibly upset while hes trying to finish his piece of you

youre not an artist yourself, so your drawing of him isnt the best either and it does make him feel a little better

"oh wow these are both shit" and youre both just giggling over your drawings of each other

its over if one of you gave the other too big of a forehead

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xi4ohuhu · 3 months ago

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Disturbing the black-furred monkey 😵‍💫😵‍💫

Where you spam Macaque with cute cat videos and more at four in the morning 💀

Tons of fluff and crack! No warnings. Only time where there isn’t fluff/crack is when macaque overthinks. Nicknames used: darlin’/darling, sweetheart n cutie (macaque to reader, reader calls macaque “Mac”). Reader was consumed by isolation in the past. Reader is close friends w Macaque, flirts w him, is a demon like him, and has an extroverted n lewd personality, Macaque has a crush on reader 💘

Recommendation: Listen to this song on repeat while reading!!

Macaque is starting to regret giving you his number. You pleaded with those puppy eyes that he desperately tried to resist, but ended up giving in and giving you his number for “work”.

Yeah, no. The messages were far from just work and business, but it was mainly you spamming Macaque with videos of cats, sending silly two cats together with the caption, “us”. Plus, dumb voice messages of you giggling, laughing, gossiping or even saying the most diabolical thing ever!

Stupid, so damn stupid, but oh, all these little quirks of yours only made Macaque more smitten with you. Not like he’d ever admit it!

The dark-furred monkey groans, waking up at night again for the third time this week. He’s been having nightmares recently, hearing muffled screams from the future with his six-ears. As cool as it might sound, sometimes, Macaque wished he didn’t have the ability to hear the past and future.

But the screams… They sounded awfully like your voice. Macaque quickly shakes it off, it’s a terrifying thought. He’s scared, scared of losing you more than he’ll admit.

He sighs, leaning back against his pillow and taking his phone from the nightstand, half-lidded eyes widened to see over twenty messages from you. It’s literally four in the morning, what are you still doing awake?

He decides to check each and every single one anyway, responding to each of them too. But he sighs in mock-exasperation listening to your voice recordings of you giggling to that video you sent him earlier. “For the Jade Emperor’s sake, it’s four in the morning. Darlin’, go to sleep.” Macaque texts, pressing the send button.

“But I ain’t tired, Mac! And I miss you, like a lot. You’re the only one that tolerates me, and you have such a sexy voice. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. But I could ask the same, why are you awake?” You replied, and he could still practically hear your giggling through the phone screen.

“Please lemme come over, I’m suuper bored here! Anyway, that video was so funny, did you see the kid fall?! I mean, I feel bad, but I still can’t stop laughing.” Your text reads, and you send a cute picture of a white and black cat cuddling with the caption, “us?”

Come to think of it, Macaque kinda missed your face. Just a little… Or maybe more. That stupid grin of yours, your lewd jokes, and the way you make him smile like no other. You send another voicemail, and Macaque hesitates before playing it, “Would you consider jacking off to be a sport?”

Nope, Macaque immediately pauses the voicemail, flinching at the sudden loud voice of the emphasis on “jacking off”. He lets out another sigh when you sends another voicemail of yourself giggling. You’d always been one for these dirty and lewd jokes, but that made things all the more interesting.

Plus, the opponents’ faces were always priceless whenever you gave a show of your inappropriate humour. However, perhaps even a little surprising, you don’t have any other friend besides Macaque, consumed by loneliness. Your previous friends have all found you annoying and dropped you, and you haven’t had a chance to interact with the Monkey King, MK and his friends. That’s why you’re so clingy towards Macaque, because you feel that he’s the only one you can truly be yourself around.

Macaque listens to your messages, and a fond smirk creeps onto his face. As much as he pretends to be annoyed by your antics, the truth is that he finds them endearing. He can’t help but feel a warmth in his chest, especially when you mention missing him.

“Sweetheart, you know you’re lucky I tolerate you, right?” He texts back, his fingers dancing on the screen. “And I can’t help but be awake because of those pesky nightmares. You should know better than to ask me to come over at this hour. What if someone sees you sneaking into my place? I have a reputation to uphold.” His grin widens.

He can’t help but chuckle at the image of the kid falling in that video. “Yeah, I saw it. Classic. But don’t go around showing those videos to everyone, cutie. They’ll think you’re a bit too… eccentric.” Macaque teases, sending a playful wink emoji, even if he knows that you’d wear that title like a badge of honor.

Macaque rolls his eyes at your audacity in asking if jacking off is a sport. “You really have no boundaries, do you? Not that I’m complaining. It’s entertaining, I’ll give you that.” He chuckles again, shaking his head in disbelief. You’re a whirlwind of chaos, and he’s learned to love it.

Then, with a moment of hesitation, Macaque thinks about your request to come over. “Alright, fine. Just this once. But if you wake me up again with your shenanigans, I’m throwing a pillow at you. Deal?” He sends the message, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation. Having you over at this hour might just be the highlight of his night.

Macaque glances at the photo of the cats you sent, a soft smile gracing his lips. “You know, maybe we could be like those cats. Just don’t hog all the blankets, or I’ll have to find a way to evict you from my space, sweetheart.”

“Okay, deal! And don’t worry, I’m gonna bring tons of snacks. We can eat and eat till our stomachs explode!” Your message reads, another joke that never fails to amuse Macaque. He turns off his phone and places it on the nightstand, leaning back against his pillow and staring blankly at the ceiling while waiting for you.

He can’t text anyone, not at this ungodly hour where they’re probably asleep. Sitting up, Macaque grabs the remote controller from his nightstand and turns on the television, browsing through Netflix for any new shows, or maybe to check if either his or your favourite show has continued their episodes. Unfortunately, nope, nothing for both of you yet.

He decides to watch a short horror film, about 25 minutes long. Macaque’s too lazy to get out of bed and prepare something to eat, so he just continues to relax on his bed. Besides, you’re bringing snacks anyway. Huh, speaking of you… The film has already ended, but you still aren’t here. You don’t live very far, about a 15 minute walk would have you arrive at Macaque’s place. He sends a few texts, asking you where you’re at, but receives nothing back. And it’s weird, you always respond immediately to him.

Worry gnawed at his heart, and he hoped those screams he heard in the future didn’t actually come true. Was it a warning, a curse that he’s able to hear the future? He paces around the room, mind coming up with scenarios of what could possibly happen. But you’re a literal demon, and he’s seen you in combat with your weapons. You can definitely stand your ground in a fight… But what if your opponent was stronger without your knowledge? No, he refuses to think negatively about you.

Just when he was thinking of looking for you himself, Macaque hears something at his balcony. He slides the curtains, only to see you blinking at him awkwardly, trying to walk through the balcony door. But your stomach’s grown large? Any average or normal person would come through the door, but nooo, you decide to make a grand entrance through the balcony instead.

You waddle like a penguin sideways, managing to fit through the door. You then lift up the jacket you’re wearing and packets of different snacks fall out, but half of them were Macaque’s favourites. You remembered, but you really were being for real about bringing tons of snacks. “Told ya I’d bring snacks-” You giggle, then cut yourself off.

Macaque can’t help but burst into laughter at the sight of you, waddling through the balcony door like a penguin. “You’ve got to be kidding me, darling! You look like you’re about to pop!” he teases, shaking his head in disbelief. “I thought you were bringing snacks, not a whole buffet!”

“No, wait. Mac, I’m carrying your child.” You add dramatically, then leap into his arms for a hug. You love and adore whenever Macaque catches you and twirls you like a princess. “I finally get to see you in person again. I missed you so much, Mac!” You smile, your grin widening even further when he reminds that you’ve just seen each other just yesterday.

“Exactly, that’s way too long to be apart from you! I was dying without you! You know no one adores you as much as I do.” Another giggle. “Okay, jokes aside, did you text me? Sorry for making you worry, I was busy tryna stuff all these snacks into my big belly, and it’s hard to text with it blocking my sight a little too. That’s why I took so long to come here.” You give an awkward smile, and Macaque feels relief wash over him.

He catches you effortlessly as you leap into his arms, twirling you around with ease. “You missed me, huh? You really are dramatic, cutie. But I have to admit, seeing you like this, it’s hard not to smile.” He puts you down gently, his heart feeling a little lighter now that you’re here.

“Ah, don’t worry about the texts. I was just… being a worrywart,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “You know me, always thinking the worst. But now that you’re here with your treasure trove of snacks, I think I can breathe a little easier.”

He eyes the snacks that spilled out from your jacket, both amused and impressed. “Alright, show me what you’ve got, darling! But remember, I’m not sharing my favorite ones!” He playfully narrows his eyes at you, knowing full well you’d probably try to snag them anyway. “And what do you mean you’re carrying my child? If that’s the case, we’d better start planning for a monkey army!” He adds with a wink, leaning against the door frame, feeling that familiar warmth spreading through him just being in your presence.

“Now, come on! Let’s feast like the royalty we are.” Macaque gestures for you to follow him to the living room, an excited grin on his face. He’s more than ready to spend the rest of the night indulging in snacks and sharing laughter with you.

“Okay!” You nod, joining Macaque with a bright smile. When you reach the living room, both of you sit comfortably on the cozy couch, dim lighting setting a warm ambiance as you watch the horror movie together. You’re wrapped in a soft blanket, leaning slightly towards Macaque, his eyes fixed on the screen. He holds a big bowl of chips, which you both reach into occasionally, savoring each bite.

Nearby, other snacks you brought are scattered on the coffee table—some candy, a bag of popcorn, and a couple of drinks within easy reach. You and Macaque’s expressions shift with the scenes—sometimes laughing at lewd jokes, sometimes gasping whenever a plot twist occurs, other times dramatically acting scared. But one thing is for sure—both Macaque and you are totally immersed in the movie and each other’s company, and you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

As the movie ends, Macaque finds you resting against his shoulder, finally wore out. After all, even a hyperactive demon needs rest occasionally. He’ll clean up the bowls, drinks, and the empty packets tomorrow. For now, he lifts you into his arms and heads to his bedroom, gently placing you down on his bed. He joins in, arms wrapped around you, and your body instinctively moves closer to him, your face nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Macaque finds himself closing his eyes too, and you both drift off into a deep slumber…

The next morning, Macaque was woken up by the sunlight, and he turns to see the clock that shows afternoon. It’s lunchtime, but because the two of you stayed up so late, he figured he’d just stay in bed a little more. The cozy atmosphere made it difficult for him to get out of bed.

Macaque stirs awake, the sunlight streaming through the curtains illuminating the room in a soft glow. He blinks a few times, trying to fully comprehend where he is. Then, he feels the warmth of your body pressed against him, and a wave of calm washes over him.

He gazes down at you, a fond smile on his face as he takes in the adorable sight. Your messy hair, the drool pooling at the corner of your mouth, and the way you cling to him so tightly—it’s all charming in a way that makes his heart flutter. “You really are something else, aren't you, sweetheart?” he whispers, brushing a stray hair from your face gently.

Getting out of bed with an adorable view like this? Nah. And besides, you looked pretty charming wrapped in his blanket, even with the drool pooling in the corner of your mouth, even with your soft snoring, and yes, even with your messy hair. You still cling onto him, arms wrapped around his chest. Then, Macaque’s came to realise that he slept throughout the night without any nightmares at all. As long as you’re here with him, he feels his worries wash away. If you just continue to stay by him, you’ll be safe, right?

“Everyone thinks I’m crazy…” You murmur in your sleep, a sign of your habit in sleep-talking. Whether you mean the stuff you say or not, well, it remains a mystery for now. “Crazy for you, oh boy…” Perhaps you’re dreaming about him?

When he hears your sleep-talking, his smile grows wider. “Crazy for me, huh? That’s what I like to hear,” he chuckles softly to himself. Macaque can’t help but feel a warmth settle in his chest at the thought of being in your dreams, even if he knows you might not remember it when you wake up.

He relaxes back into the pillows, wrapping his arms around you a little tighter, savoring the moment. The world outside can wait; right now, he cherishes this peacefulness. Thoughts of nightmares and worries linger in the back of his mind, but they seem to fade away with you beside him.

“Guess we’re both a little crazy, aren’t we?” he murmurs, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. “But I wouldn’t change it for anything, darlin’.” He closes his eyes again, allowing himself to drift back into a light doze, content just to be here with you. The chaos of the outside world can stay at bay for just a little while longer.

———————THE END——————

Author’s note: oh my gyatt I’m back 💀 lost interest in writing for months which is why this fic is prob a little crappy 😵‍💫 my fixation rn is lego monkie kid 💪💪 loveveve macaque n wukong sm 💘

Psst, btw, can you find the reference I made? 🤭

#lego monkey kid macaque #lmk macaque #six eared macaque #macaque x reader #monkie kid macaque #lego monkie kid #lego macaque #6 eared macaque #Spotify

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kallie-den · 5 months ago

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Cobra's Kiss

Huntress is one of the greatest superheroes of all time, a divinely-blessed amazon who is all but invincible in combat. So, there’s no way one little mind-controlling kiss could immediately defeat her… right?

A commission for Xander!

If you like my writing, please consider supporting me on Patreon! For less than the price of a cup of coffee each month, you can get immediate, early access to everything I write - 4 pieces of hypno-smut a month, including the latest chapters of all the multi-chapter stories I write. Your support helps me keep writing and is greatly appreciated <3

---

As Huntress leaped from the next building and crashed through the already-broken window of the seemingly disused warehouse, landing with enough force to crack the bare concrete beneath her feet, a wild, vicious grin was spread across her noble features - though it dimmed slightly at the bleating protests coming through in her earpiece.

‘Huntress! Please, wait for backup! Qualia is still out of action, Flamespout and Radiance are being held up by other villains, and Axehead is still a long way out. You’re on your own here. It could be a trap. You can’t go in the-‘

Huntress plucked the tiny device from her ear and crushed it to pieces underfoot. Farsight, the group’s coordinator, was always careful - but in this case, far too careful. After all, they had finally tracked The Cobra to her secretive lair. This was their chance to finally take the supervillain down, once and for all. What was Huntress supposed to do? Just sit on her hands until someone showed up to babysit her?

No way. Not in this lifetime. Not after everything The Cobra had done. This was personal.

“Sorry, ladies,” Huntress muttered, as she advanced towards the building’s depths. “This time, the glory’s all mine.”

What did she have to be afraid of? The Cobra was a mastermind and a diabolical manipulator, certainly. There was no telling who she might have turned into a mindless, fanatically loyal double agent with that power of hers. But here, now, in the flesh, all those plans and schemes would mean nothing. In a fair fight, The Cobra was little better off than a mere civilian.

Huntress, meanwhile, was a superhero with godlike strength - literally. She’d started out as a mere vigilante, hunting petty criminals and wrongdoers, but her will and determination had soon caught the attention of Dianae, the ancient maiden goddess of the hunt. Dianae had blessed her with many gifts: strength, stature, a hunter’s instincts, and her own divine armaments. Now, as the goddess’s avatar, Huntress stood seven feet tall, with an amazon’s body, clad in an enchanted, steel blue, leather bodice and cowl, with a colossal, heaven-forged war bow strapped over her back.

Yeah. The Cobra didn’t stand a chance.

Her resolve set, Huntress moved like a stalking wolf. For years, The Cobra had been a ghost. A curse, weaving her malign influence throughout the world without once leaving herself vulnerable to just retaliation. It was only through happenstance that Huntress managed to track her here, to what seemed like nothing more than yet another abandoned warehouse hidden deep within anonymous urban sprawl. It was the perfect place for a cunning supervillain to hide.

But The Cobra was about to learn that she was no match for the cunning of a huntress who had caught her scent.

The disused building was huge, and as Huntress headed into its depths, the open storage spaces gave way to cramped rooms and narrow, labyrinthine service corridors. Huntress moved quickly, faster than any mere mortal could have, but her senses remained keen to any danger and her hunting instincts guided her along a sure route towards her prey. She expected traps, tricks, maybe even minions - but there was nothing. No impediment to her progress as she made her way toward The Cobra’s lair.

Huntress let herself grin. It was so typical of villains. When you finally hit them close to their home, they were all but defenseless.

In turn, featureless, dusty corridors soon gave way to passageways that showed signs of recent use and renovation. Huntress’s superhuman ears picked up on the hum of electricity, and the walls were covered with wires; brand new fiber-optic cables, all of which seemed to lead inexorably towards a single point. Eventually, she came to a heavy, metal door, deep within the bowels of the building. Behind it was the nerve center of everything.

This was it. This was The Cobra. It had to be

Huntress swiftly unslung her bow from her shoulder, notched an arrow, and forced the door open with a single, mighty kick.

Inside, it was dark, even to Huntress’s enhanced eyes. Light spilled out into the large room only from a huge array of monitors arranged on the opposite wall. Before the monitors was a desk, and before the desk was a woman sitting in a chair, staring up at them. She didn’t look round, not even at the sound of the huge, heavy door to her lair crashing to the ground.

But Huntress didn’t need to see her face to know that she’d found her enemy. At last.

The woman was brunette and considerably shorter than Huntress; even from behind, Huntress would have recognized her anywhere. The true giveaway was what she was wearing: a tight bodysuit, so dark it was almost black, except that when it caught the light, it was possible to see a scaled pattern etched across its surface in the deepest shade of emerald.

“Cobra!” Huntress roared, as she stepped across the threshold. “It’s over! In the name of the goddess, I’m here to bring you to justice.”

There was no reply. The Cobra didn’t even turn. Information kept flickering across the monitors: maps, dates, statistics.

“You’re finished.” Huntress advanced another step. “I’m going to make sure you spend the rest of your life behind bars - and even that’s better than you deserve. You’ve killed a lot of good heroes. You killed my friend. Come on. Come face your reckoning.”

The Cobra still didn’t acknowledge her presence. She remained completely focused on the screens in front of her, and constant flickering as they chanced and scrolled. Huntress felt her choler start to rise.

“Face me!” she yelled. Another step. “I want to see the look in your eyes when you realize you’ve lost.”

Still, nothing. Huntress’s temper flared, and anger drowned out her more cautious urges. She’d had enough of this childish game.

“Face me!” she repeated - and as she stepped forward, she loosed an arrow from her bow. Thick as a spear, it flew through the air and hit square its target: one of the monitors to The Cobra’s left. Impaled, it flickered black and shattered, showering the supervillain in sparks.

But she still didn’t move

Huntress frowned. She stepped forward, reached out to put her hand on The Cobra’s shoulder, and spun the chair.

It wasn’t her. It was some stranger, a woman Huntress had never seen before, with a passing similarity to the supervillain, dressed in her costume and sat in her chair, a telltale look of glassy-eyed, insensate pleasure on her face.

Huntress barely had time to process the sudden, sinking feeling in her gut before the trap was sprung.

The superhero wheeled and instinctively raised her bow - but without a notched arrow, it was useless. Before she could prepare one, she caught a glimpse of a slender outline, darting towards her from the shadowy corners of the room, holding some kind of large weapon that was already trained directly at the superhero. Huntress braced herself - but still, she wasn’t worried. Her divine gifts made her bulletproof. She was ready to take a blow.

What she wasn’t ready for was for the weapon to launch a set of long, segmented, metal cables at blinding speed. Huntress made to dodge - but caught off-guard, she was just barely too slow. The cables slammed into her with the force of a speeding truck. Huntress was able to hold her ground even against that, but she had no defense when the cables started to wrap around her body, flexing with their own momentum and pinning the superhero’s limbs to her sides. She dropped her bow and stumbled, and, before she knew it, Huntress was wrapped up tight from her shoulders all the way down to her knees.

“That’s better,” said The Cobra, as she dropped the heavy cable-launcher. She sighed with relief. “You’re not an easy woman to catch, you know. Even faster than I’d thought. But maybe now we can have a civilized conversation.”

Huntress just glowered furiously at her. The sight of The Cobra’s face made other faces flash through her mind. People she’d lost. People The Cobra had taken from her. At last, she was getting the confrontation she’d long craved, and Huntress wasn’t going to let anything hold her back. She started flexing and straining against the coils of metal binding her, drawing on all of her righteous anger and all of her divine strength. The cables didn’t break - but they groaned from the strain.

“This won’t hold me,” Huntress warned. “Not for long.”

The Cobra just shrugged. “Adamantite. It’ll hold for long enough.”

“We’ll see,” Huntress countered. “Backup is almost here.”

Infuriatingly, The Cobra wagged a finger and tutted. She turned her head, letting Huntress see the earpiece she was wearing. “I’m tapped into your comms. Backup is not almost here. Backup is being misdirected away, on a wild goose chase. No, it’s just the two of us.”

Huntress flashed her a nasty grin. “Bad news for you, once I break out of these.”

It was strange that The Cobra didn’t seem frightened. She hardly had the look of a larger-than-life supervillain. Compared to Huntress, she was slight and slender, with nondescript brown hair. Only her scaled bodysuit and the dark glint in her eyes hinted at her true nature. Huntress knew better than to underestimate the woman standing before her. She knew full well how many lives The Cobra had ruined.

“We’ll see.” The Cobra started walking towards Huntress, preening like a peacock, her voice soft, with just a hint of an alluring, sibilant, hiss. “Actually, I was hoping that if we spent a little time together, you might realize that we really don’t need to be enemies.”

Huntress just laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Huntress’s hatred for the villain was so thick she almost choked on it as she spat out her words. The idea that they could be anything but mortal enemies was absurd.

“Now, now,” The Cobra chided. She was within arm’s reach, and Huntress hated that she couldn’t reach out and strike her. The hero redoubled her efforts to break the metal coils around her body. “You never know. I might just turn out to be your type.”

Humor could only stretch so far. “Listen here,” Huntress growled. “I don’t care what you say. I don’t care what you do. No matter what, I will never, ever- mph!”

For the second time in as many minutes, the superhero found herself taken off-guard - this time, as The Cobra lunged forward and pressed their lips together in a kiss.

Huntress was no stranger to kissing women, but kissing a supervillain like The Cobra filled her with nothing but disgust. Moreover, she was entirely unprepared for the sensation of something long, slick, nimble, and foreign forcing itself into her mouth from The Cobra’s, exploring her mouth, dominating the kiss, and even beginning to push its way into her throat. Disturbed, Huntress tried to pull back, but with her limbs bound, there was no escape.

She was far more disturbed when, moments later, her body started to tingle and weaken, and a kind of strange, warm pleasure began to radiate from her lips.

“My, my,” The Cobra sang, as she finally drew back. “You taste good, Huntress.”

Her vision blurring, Huntress looked at her, and saw the foot-long, forked, tongue protruding from The Cobra’s mouth.

After a moment, her mind caught up with itself and she realized what had happened. This was The Cobra’s superpower, and the reason for her moniker. She had a very long serpent’s tongue, coated with a kind of supernatural venom that weakened the minds of those it came into contact with, drowning them in euphoric bliss and fostering a twisted sense of loyalty to the supervillain. It was the source of all her power: despite her lack of physical prowess, The Cobra could enact all her villainous schemes by using her tongue to turn people into kiss-drunk minions who would do anything to please her; she’d brainwashed civilians, government figures, corporate leaders - and even, at times, superheroes.

But not Huntress. Never Huntress.

“Your tricks will never work on me,” Huntress snarled. “I’m not like your other victims. I’m stronger than you.”

The boast came easy. It wasn’t a mere bluff. Beyond her superhuman strength and unmatched hunting skills, Huntress harbored another talent: her indomitable willpower. It was what had attracted the attention of her goddess in the first place: even as a mere mortal vigilante, Huntress had refused to let anyone or anything dim her spirit or distract her from her purpose.

Huntress was sure of it. Resisting The Cobra was a matter of willpower. And in a battle of wills, what chance did a mortal have against the divine avatar of an invincible goddess?

“Oh? Are you sure it won’t work?” The Cobra flashed her a smug smile. “Are you sure it isn’t already?”

“Of course I… I…”

Huntress grasped at her hatred like a blade, hoping to let it cut her, hoping to let its sting keep her sharp and clear-headed. Her voice faltered when she found that, to her surprise, her hate was dull. It was still there, certainly. All the reasons she should and did hate The Cobra remained perfectly easy to grasp. But it didn’t burn the way it had just moments ago. It didn’t inspire the same kind of biting rage. Her hate felt somehow distant; numb, like she was under anesthetic.

Huntress’s confidence suffered a hair fracture.

And the malevolent grin on The Cobra’s face grew wider still.

“R-ridiculous,” Huntress snarled. “You’re a fool if you think I can be beaten so easily.”

“I suppose we’ll find out.” The Cobra sauntered across the room and grabbed over another swivel chair, just like the one her double was seated in. After positioning it behind Huntress, she gave the superhero a swift shove. With her limbs bound, Huntress was unable to keep her balance and collapsed into the chair. “But you don’t look as confident as you did a few moments ago.”

Huntress was glad to find she still had enough hate to glower up at the villain. “You’ll pay for this. For everything. Very, very soon.”

She could feel the metal cables wrapped around her body beginning to stretch and distend from her efforts. They had to be just minutes from snapping.

“And then the big, bad Huntress gets me?” The Cobra mocked. She perched herself down delicately in Huntress’s lap; the weight was barely perceptible, but the frustration had Huntress growling. “You should remember something, darling. Cobras are hunters too.”

Huntress laughed in her face. Just a few minutes. “Let me tell you who I am. I am a hero. I am the divine avatar of Diana. I have been blessed with powers you cannot possibly comprehend. I have defeated foes the size of skyscrapers. I have defended our world from demonic entities and alien threats. I am Huntress, and I- stop, s-stop!”

As she delivered her monologue, voice booming, conviction in her belly, Cobra let her long, forked, dripping tongue drool out of her mouth again - and then drew it up the side of Huntress’s face in a long lick.

“What are you doing?” Huntress spat. She squirmed, trying to pull away, but there was nowhere to go. “That’s disgust… ing…?”

Cobra’s tongue came away with a wet smack, leaving the side of Huntress’s face coated with her thick, venomous saliva. This time, as it seeped into the superhero’s pores, she could feel it happening: the strange, pleasurable tingle that made her spine shiver in unwanted anticipation. The creeping, inexplicable euphoria that clouded her mind and stole the edge from her rage. Even with all her will and resolve brought to bear, Huntress couldn’t keep it from affecting her.

“Disgusting…” Huntress repeated, but she couldn’t fill the word with any force. The Cobra noticed at once.

“Wow,” she teased. “The almighty Huntress, weak to a little kiss. Who would have thought?”

“I’m nnnot.” The word came out slurred; Huntress tried again, but it didn’t help. “I’m… nnnnottt…”

The Cobra giggled maliciously. “Then what are you so afraid of?”

She licked her lips, and went in for another kiss, nice and slow this time, in a parody of romance. Huntress turned her head this way and that, trying to avoid the kiss, but her movements were already turning sluggish - and besides, The Cobra was on top of her. The villain pressed her lips against the hero’s, and with them coated in her venom, even that chaste peck was another to make The Huntress flush and heave with supernatural bliss.

“You know, maybe you’re not such a good kisser after all,” The Cobra remarked, kicking her legs against Huntress. “A little… limp. But maybe that’s what I should have expected, from the chosen of the maiden goddess.”

The sudden arrogance in the supervillain’s voice was like a red rag to a bull. Huntress tried to glare up at her, to prove her defiance with the fire in her eyes, but when she looked at The Cobra, she couldn’t help softening. Her vision was becoming hazy, and through the fog, The Cobra seemed strangely, undeniably beautiful.

"You…” Huntress gasped, suddenly full of awe. “What are… you…”

“Perhaps I just need to get you warmed up,” The Cobra mused, ignoring her. “Here.”

She leaned in for another kiss. Huntress was so dazed, only at the last moment did she realize the danger she was in. She jerked her head back, but The Cobra’s kiss still landed, just beneath her mouth. The supervillain kissed Huntress again, then again, then again, over and over, trailing kisses along her skin, before finally finding her lips and once again pushing her elongated tongue into Huntress’s mouth.

Huntress couldn’t help it. She let out a soft, faint, but undeniable moan.

“There we are,” The Cobra said, her voice a twisted mockery of affection. “Isn’t that better?”

Her victim was too addled to reply. Huntress was seeing white. She struggled to grasp what had just happened to her. Faster than she had ever believed possible, her formidable will had started to give way and sink into quicksand. Each kiss made her weaker, more susceptible. Her face was burning with flustered pleasure, and it radiated out, filling her body. It was getting harder and harder to think clearly.

“My goodness,” The Cobra cooed. “I have to be honest: it’s quite the power trip, having a literal demigod quaking and shivering under my every… little… touch.”

She punctuated those three words with yet more kisses across Huntress’s cheek. The superhero moaned again. What was happening to her? She’d never felt like this before. So warm. So soft. So palpably malleable and weak.

It was wrong. She needed to fight it. Huntress just needed to keep that thought straight in her head.

“I’m… nnnot…” she slurred, despite how absurd the denial was. “I’m… gonna… get out of here… punish you!”

“You are?” The Cobra mocked. “That’s funny. But you’re not even trying to escape anymore.”

After a few moments of dumbfounded blinking, Huntress realized that the supervillain was right. Somewhere along the way, she had stopped straining against the metal cables binding her, succumbing to the warm, relaxing feeling The Cobra’s tongue offered.

Huntress blushed shamefully, and tried to start struggling again. But she found that her limbs had turned to heavy, iron bars and her muscles to sludge; try as she might, she couldn’t seem to apply much pressure to the cables. After just a few seconds, her strength failed her. The Cobra laughed as she watched Huntress slump, defeated.

“What was that you were saying?” she crowed. “You’re a hero? A divine avatar? Blessed with powers I couldn’t comprehend? To me, you look like nothing more than another one of my mewling little pets.”

Huntress thought back to The Cobra’s double, still sitting in the chair a short distance from them. She thought about the look of utter, mindless bliss that had been on the woman’s face. Was that what was going to happen to her? A fearful shiver raced down her spine.

She wanted to deny the very possibility. But hadn’t The Cobra already proven her wrong? Huntress’s sense of self-assurance was collapsing beneath her feet.

“And in a few more minutes, that’s exactly what you’ll be,” The Cobra went on. “Another brainwashed slut, addicted to me, doing anything I please just for one more kiss - even helping to bring those precious teammates of yours into the fold.”

That particular jab bit deep with Huntress - but struck iron. The superhero frowned, a fresh surge of anger lending her much-needed strength.

Defeat was one thing. Betrayal was another. Huntress had never once betrayed the principles by which she lived and fought. And she never would, not for anything. Certainly not for the hated supervillain currently perched in her lap.

Yes. Yes, she hated The Cobra. That was right, wasn’t it?

“I… will… never…” Huntress said thickly and slowly, enunciating each word clearly in turn, “do… your… will. Never. With… with all that I have… with all that I am… I’ll keep fighting. To the bitter end.”

She meant it. Every word. Even The Cobra seemed impressed. She cocked an eyebrow and whistled.

“Not bad,” she acknowledged. “But you still just don’t get it, do you? Watch.”

Huntress was braced for The Cobra to kiss her again, but she didn’t. Instead, the supervillain simply opened her mouth and let her serpent’s tongue hang lazily out of her mouth, slowly extending to its full length. That was all. The tips of her tongue’s forks twitched occasionally, tasting the air, and venom-impregnated drool formed thick, looping ropes beneath the supernatural organ.

Against all her wishes, Huntress moaned.

This time, it wasn’t her body, but her memory that betrayed her. Just the sight of The Cobra’s tongue held power over Huntress. It reminded her of everything that tongue could do, and made her throb with longing as memories of that warm, wonderful pleasure washed over her. Already, Huntress could feel her precious willpower once again starting to drain away.

“You see,” The Cobra cooed, her voice poisonously soft. “Don’t you want this?”

Huntress couldn’t help but let out a whiny, plaintive sigh as she realized that she did. That was followed immediately by a deep sense of shame. She shouldn’t want it. It was wrong. It was obscene. Huntress was a hero. She should be above such temptations.

Yet her body yearned for it. She knew, she just knew, that as soon as The Cobra’s tongue touched her skin, the sweet nectar of her venom would wipe away all of those shameful feelings.

“You do,” The Cobra pressed. “Don’t you?”

Huntress managed to shake her head, but the words wouldn’t rise to her lips. Every nerve ending in her body was screaming something else.

“I think you do,” The Cobra whispered to her. “And I think you’ll let me kiss you.”

She started to lean in for another kiss, this time moving tortuously slowly, giving Huntress all the time in the world to jerk her head out of the way. But she didn’t. Huntress couldn’t move. She was paralyzed by her conflicted desires. The superhero opened her mouth, hoping to protest, but the words still wouldn’t come, and her lips remained slightly parted and turned upwards, towards The Cobra’s approaching mouth.

Without resisting or even saying a word, Huntress let The Cobra kiss her. For just a moment, she hated how good it felt. Then, the oncoming pleasure obliterated even that.

Huntress couldn’t help it. As The Cobra forced her tongue into her mouth, she started leaning into the kiss. Embracing it. Kissing back with stupefied passion. It was impossible to do anything else when it felt so good. Every concern about her morals and principles, about the situation, about The Cobra’s schemes - all of them paled in comparison. The kind of euphoria The Cobra’s power inflicted allowed no room for doubts. As they kissed - as The Cobra started fucking Huntress’s throat with her tongue - Huntress was on cloud nine, and The Cobra herself was the object of all her newfound joy.

When The Cobra broke the kiss, Huntress whined. She wanted more.

“There we go,” the supervillain cooed. “That’s a nice dose. Isn’t that better?”

Huntress just nodded dumbly.

“Good.” The Cobra extended her tongue towards Huntress and licked her again. Huntress shivered in eager rapture. “See? Maybe we can get along after all.”

Again, Huntress nodded. That sounded good. She wanted to get along with The Cobra. Why wouldn’t she? The Cobra made her feel so good.

There was something else in her head. A different feeling that she felt towards The Cobra. Something spiky and bitter. Then, it slipped out of view.

“Excellent,” The Cobra told her, evidently pleased. “That’s my good little hunter.”

Huntress’s reward was another kiss. She accepted it eagerly. Each one felt better than the last. She looked up at The Cobra adoringly, panting for breath, a vacant, stupid smile spread across her saliva-slick face.

“Hey,” Cobra said. “Why don’t you tell me your name? Your real name, I mean.”

Alarm bells sounded in Huntress’s head. She had always kept her real name a secret. Allowing it to become public knowledge meant endangering all those who were close to her. She couldn’t.

And yet now, all those alarm bells were so far away, she could barely hear them.

“Susanna,” Huntress told the villain dreamily. “Susanna Callisto.”

“Susanna Callisto,” The Cobra echoed. “Incredible. But you know,” she added teasingly, “if we’re going to keep getting along, I’m going to need you to do some things for me.”

That gave Huntress pause. The Cobra’s phrasing was undeniably menacing. It made her cautious.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” The Cobra promised. Her face was twisted into an impossibly gleeful smirk. “I just want to get to know some of your friends, the same way I’m getting to know you. You can help me with that, can’t you?”

Huntress’s friends. It took her a long moment to understand what that was referring to. Superheroes. Superheroes like her. Didn’t being a superhero mean something important? She thought about what would happen if she brought them here, and let The Cobra work her tongue into their minds. It just seemed wrong, somehow, even if she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“I… can’t,” Huntress replied, more than a little apologetically.

In that moment, the reluctance was real. She longed to give The Cobra what she was asking for. But this was the final kernel of her willpower, buried so deep it had still yet to be touched by The Cobra’s venom. Even if she sacrificed all of her dignity, she couldn’t sacrifice this.

“You can’t?” The Cobra seemed surprised, even impressed, by any resistance even at this stage. “How amusing. Why don’t you let me change your mind?”

Huntress let out a groan, but there was nothing she could do as The Cobra started kissing her again. The kisses came fast and furious; passionate, almost, from the supervillain’s eagerness to overwhelm what remained of Huntress’s will. She kissed Huntress again and again, each one deeper and more dominant than the last, making the defeated superhero gag on her tongue and gasp desperately for each breath before the next kiss came.

“Are you sure?” The Cobra whispered to her, between kisses. “All you need to do is bring them to me.”

“C-can’t…” Huntress moaned, more out of instinct than true comprehension. “Can’t….”

It was getting harder and harder to refuse her captor. The more The Cobra kissed her, the more Huntress’s pleasure was starting to congeal into something else: into an instinctive, servile sense of obedience directed towards the supervillain. Disobeying was growing steadily harder and harder to conceive of.

It was simple. Pavlovian. Huntress had become a slave to her own pleasure, and the pleasure told her to listen to The Cobra.

“Bring them here,” The Cobra urged. “Whoever I ask you to. Tell them whatever lies I feed to you. Use that strength of yours to keep them nice and still for me.”

“Noo,” Huntress moaned, though she could already feel her will to resist fading. “Nooooo.”

The Cobra touched one of her fingertips to Huntress’s chin and used it to guide her, making the super stretch upward, begging with her body for yet another brainwashing kiss.

“Yes,” The Cobra said firmly. Compared to Huntress, she sounded so strong. So sure. It was impossible not to believe her. “You’re going to be my ultimate weapon, Huntress. You’ll subdue all those other heroes for me. You’ll bring them right to my bosom.”

“Nnn… mmrfff.” Huntress’s attempt to refuse collapsed into more moaning when Cobra extended her tongue along the side of her face, coating it in slick, wet, mind-warping saliva.

“Anyone who threatens me,” The Cobra insisted. “Anyone who opposes me. You’ll stop them. You’ll help me claim them. You’ll work to make them mine.”

Huntress thrashed and spasmed as pleasure tore through her. Her back arched. It was so easy to see herself doing it, and so very hard to disobey. She craved it now. Everything The Cobra was describing. She was about to break, and both of them knew it.

“Obey me,” The Cobra hissed. “Kiss me, and obey.”

As one final, desperate gambit, Huntress’s overtaxed mind seized upon the words that she’d used many times in moments of true hopelessness: a prayer, a plea, delivered up to the one who had made her what she was.

“D-Diana… s-save me!”

And, by a true miracle, the goddess did.

The Cobra was thrown out of Huntress’s lap and across the room by a sudden thunderclap. She shot to her feet, but found herself blinded by impossible, silver light. It was as if the moon itself had been made manifest inside her lair, but when the light dimmed and her eyes adjusted, she found herself looking not at a celestial body, but at a woman.

Not, not a woman. Diana, Goddess of the Hunt.

There was no mistaking her. In stature and beauty, she was even greater than Huntress, and her body still shone with a halo of moonlight. There was a great resemblance between Diana and her champion, The Cobra noted, although the goddess had the ageless quality of an immortal, and her hair was brilliant silver instead of platinum blonde. She did not have a weapon, but she clearly didn’t need one, either; her gaze spoke of immeasurable power and righteous wrath - and all of it was directed straight at The Cobra.

“Who dares defile my champion?” the goddess spoke, in a voice that made the heavens quake.

Every little hair on The Cobra’s body stood on end. She turned her head left and right, desperately looking for something, anything, that might save her. There was nothing, of course. This was a goddess. What did she have? A long tongue?

“I see,” Diana pronounced, even though The Cobra hadn’t spoken. “Your heart is black. I will deal with you in a moment. But first…”

She turned to Huntress, sitting slumped in the chair, still bound. Diana touched just one fingertip to the metal cables wrapped around the hero’s body, and they dissolved into nothing more than fading sparks.

“Be free,” Diana said to Huntress affectionately. “I have no doubt you will recover, in time. Your firm will has always been your greatest blessing.” She rounded on The Cobra. “Which is why I cannot forgive that you would tarnish it.”

The Cobra started backing away. Dread overwhelmed her. She was still thinking furiously, but she couldn’t come up with any plan or ploy that could help her. The sheer unfairness of the situation was almost comical. She was barely a supervillain, and this was a goddess in the flesh. A petty little trick like using a double wasn’t going to cut it.

There had to be something. There had to be. But what? Her venom was the only asset she had, but even that seemed like a stretch.

“Damn it,” The Cobra hissed to herself. “If I could just hold her still for a moment…”

It turned out, Huntress wasn’t the only one who could have her prayers answered.

And Huntress herself was the one who answered them. The superhero abruptly rose to her feet, seemingly shaking off whatever dim-witted pleasure-trance she’d sunk into. Diana noted her sudden recovery with nothing more than a pleased smile, and kept all her attention on The Cobra.

Until Huntress grabbed her goddess’s limbs and used all of her divine-given strength to pin them to her sides.

“What?” Diana exclaimed, confused. “My champion, what are you doing?”

But The Cobra knew. She could see it in Huntress’s eyes: the telltale, glassy glint of adoration and eagerness that marked those who had tasted too much of The Cobra’s venom.

Slowly, a grin started to creep back onto The Cobra’s face.

“Release me!” Diana bellowed. “My huntress, you must resist this witchcraft!”

The Cobra was already moving towards her by the time Diana started to struggle in earnest. It was immediately clear that Huntress couldn’t hold her for long. A demigod was no match for a goddess. But The Cobra’s commands had taken root deep in her mind, and the brainwashed superhero was every bit of her strength to keep Diana restrained for long enough for The Cobra to reach her.

The supervillain had no idea if her power would work. Her heart skipped a beat as she stretched up on tiptoes and kissed the goddess of the hunt.

The Cobra kissed her the same way she kissed all her victims: long and deep, pushing her tongue into her mouth to make her feel her presence and drink in as much of her venom as possible. She wasn’t sure what to expect from kissing Diana; fierce resistance wouldn’t have surprised her, nor, amusingly, would have prodigious skill.

What she hadn’t expected was for Diana to all but go limp immediately, after just a few clumsy, sophomoric attempts to dominate the kiss.

That gave The Cobra a little optimism. But she still didn’t dare to hope as she pulled back and inspected the formidable goddess towering above her.

Not until she saw the dull, dreamy, blissed-out look beginning to dawn on Diana’s face.

“Oh my god,” The Cobra breathed. “It… it worked.”

The goddess came over flushed, and it was clear that her struggles were weakening. Her eyes flitted back and forth in confusion.

“What…” Diana breathed. The Cobra couldn’t believe she was seeing a goddess look dizzy. “You… mortal… what did you do to me?”

The Cobra couldn’t help it. She started laughing. It came slow, building and building, until it came out as a manic howl that filled the room.

“Oh my god!” The Cobra cackled. “I can’t believe it - although maybe it’s exactly what I should have expected from the so-called maiden goddess. Not a lot of experience with kissing, huh?”

“I… don’t…” Diana bleated. She looked so lost all of a sudden, but The Cobra didn’t miss the hint of eagerness in her parted lips.

“Huntress,” The Cobra instructed, “why don’t you help our pretty little goddess take a seat?”

“Yes, Cobra.”

Huntress’s eyes shone hopefully at the mere prospect of getting to obey her new owner’s instructions. She guided Diana over to the chair she’d just been sitting in. The goddess didn’t struggle. Pathetically weak to The Cobra’s kisses, she was already beyond that.

“It’s OK that you don’t have much experience,” The Cobra hissed, as she poured herself into Diana’s lap and let her tongue drool out of her mouth once more. “I like girls that way, sometimes. And I’ll be more than happy to… educate you. Then, we can see what I can do to the world with a goddess in tow.”

She started kissing Diana again, and the supervillain’s lair filled with wet, smacking passionate sounds as she began to brainwash the goddess into nothing more than an obedient, pleasure-drunk thrall - just like her champion.

—

I would like to express my gratitude for the generosity of all those who support me on Patreon, and to give a special thanks to the following patrons in particular for their exceptional support:

Artemis, Chloe, Grillfan65, The Secret Subject, Morriel, Dex, orangesya, dmtph, MegatronTarantulas, Vanessa, Madeline, BTYOR, Sarah, Mattilda, Emily Queen of sloths, Neana, Shadows exile, Abigail, Hypnogirl_Stephanie_, Jade, mintyasleep, Michael, Be_Be, Tasteful Ardour, Chris, Dennis, Full Blown Marxism, Morder, S, Brendon, Drone 8315, Jim, Erin, HannahSolaria, hellenberg, Kay, Miss_Praxis, Violet, Noct, Charlotte, Faun, BrinnShea, B, Foridin, Jennifer, EepyTimeTea, Slifer274, Phoenix, Jim, Sebastian, Joseph, Yaoups, Thomas, Liz, naivetynkohan, Basic dev, SuperJellyFrogEx, Katie, Lily, spyrocyndersam13, zzzz, Mal, Bouncyrou, Anonymous, Nimapode, Kunoichiru, FemKUltra, Ash, Artemis, Geckonator, TheRealG, Anonymous, J, nathan, GladiusLumin, Ada, Marina, Space Prius, Alex, Michael, Thomas, Dasterin, Jackson, Djura, Christopher, Pluto, Daedalus, Joe, Stuart, Mattilda, matthew, Ana, proletkvlt, DOLLICIOUS, Yodasgirl, Allie~

#story

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keelywolfe · 9 months ago

Note

Around when did Charlie give Alastor the shovel talk? And did she figure it out before the story even began?

Mmmm, I think she suspected from almost the beginning. She grew up in Hell, she can note the difference between arguing and arguing with intense sexual tension, and also the sudden decrease in public arguments.

I can see her talking it out with Vaggie in their room at night. Vaggie, being a former angel, is horrified to think Lucifer, also a former angel, is letting that nasty radio demon put his hands on him, but Charlie insists it makes sense, sure compatible are drawn together (her and Vaggie) but opposites also attract!

And sure, it's a little...uh...weird...to think of her dad being with Alastor of all people, but Charlie can't help but notice her dad seems a little calmer, easier in his own skin. When he first got to the hotel he was all manic energy, desperate to be helpful, and as much as she understood the reason behind it, she didn't know how to reassure him it was okay. The only thing that would make him believe he wasn't going to lose her again if he said or did the wrong thing was time.

(Cutting because this got long)

So she started family dinner nights to give her dad a chance to be around her little found family, and she warned everyone else off of drinking the last of Alastor's coffee before her dad got a cup, and she watched her dad lose some of that 'King of Hell' protective shell and become more just...him. Her dad, who told her stories she'd never heard before about her childhood and showed her his sketchbook--

(and dad, really, trying to hide your relationship with Alastor and you had THAT sketch right there? Crying out loud, he might as well have drawn little hearts around it! She even tried to give him an out by asking if he sketched anyone else and he so obviously didn't. She still wasn't sure if she was relieved or irritated that Angel interrupted him, she was morbidly curious what her dad would come up with.)

--and her dad seems to be settling into the hotel better. And sure, he has a few moments, (finding him obviously fresh from the bar if not drunk was a little surprising but not a daily event) but all and all, Alastor seems to have been good for him. Something for him to push against that had no qualms about pushing back and if that was something her dad needed? She was glad Alastor could give it to him. But yeah, she also totally gave him the shovel talk, probably right after Alastor's little tantrum in the city where he ate the guy having the nasty fantasies about Charlie, and (she didn't know the details, Husk only told her quietly Alastor was protecting the hotel and she believed him) she walked in on her dad and Alastor standing suspiciously far apart in the parlor. Lucifer looked about as innocent as a kitten standing over a container of spilled cream and Alastor never looks innocent. She would have stalked right up to Alastor later that day and told him, "I know you and my dad are sleeping together!" Because asking Alastor questions when you want answers is always a mistake, he is a slippery little bastard and managed to slither his way out of answering with a laugh and a 'Oh, my dear, you and your ideas!' all too often.

Ask him directly, interrupt him before he can prevaricate, and you'll eventually dig a path to the truth. Especially since Lucifer never specifically told him to lie about it when directly asked. "What of it?"

And hey, stories about her dad were highly exaggerated, that's pretty obvious to anyone who ever meets him. Stories about her mother? Not so much and Charlie knows things Alastor would never dream she might, not even in his deepest, darkest nightmares, and if he hurts her dad, he'll learn about each and every one of them. But...if you just want to be with him, that's okay, Just don't tell him I know, not yet, I want to give him the chance to tell me! "It is such a joy to have the opportunity to see the more diabolical side of your mind in action, my dear. Rumor leads me to believe your mother would be proud."

"Thanks a lot. Just don't tell him I know, okay?"

"Agreed. The entertainment value promises to increase by the day!"

"What did I just say about hurting him?"

"Ah, ah, this wouldn't be me hurting him, now would it?"

"No, no, no, not another word, I know you, you'll get me thinking this is a bad idea! Just don't be doing any weird plotting or deals or voodoo magic to him, all right??"

"I assure you, Charlie, dear, when I am with your father, such things are the last on my mind. In fact--"

"No details!!!"

"As you wish." So yeah, I think it went something like that. 😂

#radioapple asks #asks #Lucifer and his THNGVBR #RadioApple #Spoilers

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pumpkinsy0 · 4 months ago

Note

even more TO characters as things from my school(this years been boring af)

twobit: me cooking up the most diabolical lunch combinations. mozzarella sticks w blue pop rocks💖

dally: the several holds(less intense lockdowns) in a week and general safety threats. also just general unruliness + kids swearing at the art teacher. i feel bad for her bc shes constantly getting cussed out and im pretty sure she's senile

johnny: there being so many crickets in the fine arts hall. like multiple have to be dealt with within 30 minutes. also getting "What duh heeeaal" yelled at me while i was minding my own beeswax.

darry: english teacher wearing a "human by chance alpha by choice" shirt. a student lent it to him idk why. twas funny tho.

steve: i forgot like last year there wuz a cupcake in my bag and it turned to dust like today n spilled everywhere + the inside joke "THEY TURNED HIM INTO CRUDE OIL!!!!! THEIR REFINING HIM STOP!!!!!!!"

pony: this one kid having the most loud ass diabolical elderly man cough EVER. to give you an idea of how bad it is the teacher said to him "if you cough like that one more time we're sending you to the nurse" im kinda concerned for his health atp because this has been happening for a week

+ some girl during art screaming "STOP!!!!!" when it was silent bc a boy threw like a sheet of paper at her. it was like an ear piercing scream 2

soda: me flunking out of math within the first three weeks of school. i didn't even get consulted about it at all?? like they were just "oh yeah u failed anyways bye bye effective immediately get out" + boys yelling out the lyrics to "last christmas i gave you my heart" really loud down the hall

i mean expand on these if u want?? idk what this is doing in ur inbox I'm sorry. but something compelled me to to this

nonono this gives me the perfect opportunity to add on the shepards and my own stories in general

curly: me laying down and watching adventure time but my cousins came in running and one jumped over me but the other, i shit u not, TRIED to jump over me but put his whole body weight on my one knee🙎🏽‍♀️🙎🏽‍♀️

angela: me SWEARING my aunts house was haunted bc she had these scary masks on the wall and apparently, someone died??? in her living room once???? and the ppace where me and my cousins and sister would sleep just scared the shit outta me i was so scared to get up to use the bathroom at night 😭

tim: my sister catching me kissing the tv when i saw kuzvo from emperors new groove

bonus pony: my cousins laughing at me bc they found me on wattpad</333

#curly shepard #ponyboy curtis #tim shepard #angela shepard #darry curtis #darrel curtis #dallas winston #sodapop curtis #two bit matthews #steve randle

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thechaoticdruid · 7 months ago

Text

In Another Life

|Ascended Astarion x Oc |Winnie|

Notes: So this is basically something I wrote when I had been stumped on other work. It's kinda like a pilot chapter for a fic I suppose. In an alternate reality where Winnie helps Astarion ascend only to regret it in the end. Also reading some of my other Winnie fics before this one is highly recommended.

Content/Warning: ANGST, toxic break up, Ascended Astarion, AA being manipulative, Winnie snaps.

“I have to do this Winnie. You want me to be safe don't you? Help me do this and I'll be free, truly and completely free.” Astarion stared at Winnie with pleading eyes. Winnie frowned, standing in place as her heart weighed with the decision she was being forced to make.

“But Astarion, if we do this it will kill all of these people!” Winnie hissed out.

“These people died years ago! Trust me. All that's left is feral spawn, desperate for blood.” Astarion insisted.

“They still deserve a chance.”

“More than I deserve freedom?” Astarion sneered, glaring at Winnie.

“Star, please don't make me do this.” Winnie begged, eyes threatening to tear up as she realized what was happening. She didn't want to lose Astarion. Gods, she already had lost so many people in her life.

“It's me or them.” Astarion’s red eyes bore into her soul as he gave her the ultimatum. Winnie bit down on her lip. She knew what was the right thing to do. She knew that sacrificing them was diabolical and unforgivably selfish, but in that moment it was as if her body acted on its own.

“Alright …I'll help you.” Winnie gave in.

“Thank you my love.” Astarion sighed in relief before turning around. Astarion had Winnie connect her tadpole to his so he could read the scars off his back and copy them onto Cazador’s.

Winnie cringed as she heard the blood curdling screams of Astarion's old master. Was this what it was like for Astarion the night his scars were carved? Winnie just kept her eyes on Astarion’s back, taking in the jagged lines of the infernal writing. Once Astarion finished Winnie tilted her head in shame. Most everything beyond went so fast it was like a blur. The dungeon was illuminated red, and the floor beneath them quaked as the ritual proceeded.

“Soldier, this isn't right! You have to talk some sense into him!” Karlach pleaded with her friend. Winnie didn't even meet her gaze. The poor druid just looked lifeless and full of shame. The room filled with thousands of blood curdling screams. Seven thousand vampire spawn were being turned to dust and their souls practically torn from their bodies. Now forever in service to the archdevil Mephistopheles.

Astarion's eyes were glowing red as a sinister smile spread across his face.

“I'm free. I'm finally free! Oh it feels delicious!” Astarion exclaimed. Winnie could feel her heart sink. This was a mistake.

~•~•~••~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

After the Rite of Profane Ascension had been completed and the party had delt with the gur tribe's retaliation Winnie and the others left Cazador's palace and returned to the Elfsong.

Winnie hadn't spoken to Astarion since the ritual. She was full of shame and guilt. What she had done was selfish and unforgivable and in the end it hadn't even been worth it. Astarion was not the same man she'd fallen in love with. It appeared any trace of the sweetness he once possessed had been completely snuffed out. So now she sat on her bed in the Elfsong, fiddling with her journal. She was sketching a picture of herself as a devil, an evil wretched creature. It was nothingless what she deserved.

“There you are my sweet pet. If I didn't know any better I'd think you were avoiding me.~” Astarion’s all too familiar sultry voice graced her ears. The human woman couldn't bare to look up at him.

“I just wanted….time to myself. I'm tired.” She spoke softly. It wasn't entirely a lie. The trauma from the events had left her rather drained. As she tried to keep her eyes on her journal, Astarion tilted her chin up with his fingers, making her look at him. Intense and cold as ice, his eyes no longer held the soft sweetness that she adored so much. It honestly felt as if she was looking at a stranger who wore her beloved’s face. If only it actually was just a demon in disguise.

“You have given me a wonderful gift. One I intend to reward you for. Name anything you desire and I shall provide it to you.”

“I don't want anything.” Winnie replied, pulling her head away from him.

“Love, you can't keep dwelling on those pathetic souls in the ritual. What's done is done and there's no going back. Besides you and I have a glorious future ahead us.” Astarion smiled before taking Winnie’s hands in his. “I want to give you the gift of immortality, so that we may walk these lands side by side forever, as husband and wife.” Astarion squeezed Winnie’s hands gently. His eyes bore into hers ever so eagerly awaiting a response. Winnie’s jaw dropped as she was at a loss for words. A vampire marriage proposal. Two incredibly horrifying decisions were now presented to her.

“Oak Father's balls…..You want to turn me!? After everything you suffered!? After everything Cazador put you through!” Winnie hissed, shock suddenly turning into anger as she pulled her hands away from him and stood up. One night not too long ago Astarion had told Winnie how incredibly painful turning into a vampire was for him. How he loathed the two centuries he spent as a puppet. And now he was practically asking her to endure the same.

“Oh that was completely different! I'd never hurt you! I love you.” Astarion had smug expression plaster over his face as he noticed Winnie’s eyes soften at his declaration of love. “Is this not what you want, my love? You told me you were mine once before. Now you can prove it.”

“I want to be your partner not your property!” Winnie huffed out. "I want to be yours by choice not by force!"

“You would be. I don't want to control you. I want you to rule beside me, as my bride, my queen, my dark consort...My most beloved spawn.” Astarion put his hand over his heart. Winnie held back the tears that were threatening to spill. He wanted to make her his spawn. Not a true vampire. Not an equal.

“You haven't once even considered making a true vampire have you? No you don't trust that I wouldn't turn on you.” Winnie murmured out.

“You're being entirely ridiculous, darling. If you can't see what I'm trying to do for you then perhaps you're not worthy enough to be my consort.”

“Good. I don't want to be your fucking consort. You've done nothing but act like a power crazed fool just like Cazador.”

“DON’T YOU DARE YOU SPEAK HIS NAME IN FRONT OF ME!” Astarion suddenly snapped at Winnie, causing her to flinch. He'd never screamed at her like that before. Astarion took a moment to regain his composure. “You ungrateful wretch. You're lucky I ever took someone as ugly as you to bed-” Winnie’s hand suddenly moved as if she was no longer in control as she delivered a sharp smack across his face. Both of them were rather shocked at the turn of events. Winnie quickly took her hand back, guilt washing over her. The slap didn't even leave a mark on him, his new found strength dulling out any kind of pain he'd previously been able to feel. But the fact that she had actually done this to him was not definitely not expected. Winnie had been so fiercely protective of her love.

“I….I shouldn't have done that…I'm sorry…” She spoke up, glancing down at her hand.

“One should never hit their partner…Even if they are being an insufferable cunt.” Her words were filled with venom, but the tears swelling in her eyes were clear as day. Astarion stumbled over his words, trying to regain his composure before he spoke again.

“How dare you-”

“How dare you! I've given you everything and still you want more!” Tears were streaming down her face as she glared at him. “You may have killed your master but you'll never be free. And I'll be damned if I let you trap me in this hell with you.” With that Winnie turned away and marched off.

She left the Elfsong that night, ignoring the curses and threats from her ex-lover. The druid had decided to remain at the Blushing Mermaid for the rest of their time fighting against the Absolute and the cult. Astarion stayed with the party despite his and Winnie’s split and the fact that now everyone was once again keeping an eye on him. Karlach even suggested they stake him and be done with it, but unfortunately for her all of the others came to the mutual agreement that Astarion's power would be needed in the fight against the Elder Brain.

Eventually the day they faced the Elder Brain came. They vanquished their foes and everyone lived happily ever after. Or…..Well not really. The Absolute was defeated and their tadpoles were removed but still Winnie didn't feel like a hero at all. She stood near the docks, a bit shaken from having to beg her best friend to return to Avernus instead of burn to death, out on that pier. Her pink eyes watched the waves roll by as footsteps came behind her.

“Shame you had to be so foolish. We could have had everything you know.” His voice came from behind her. His scent graced her senses as he came closer.

“Such a waste.”

That was the last she heard from him. Months later a reunion party had followed. Most of the party including Astarion himself had attended. But Winnie never made an appearance at all. In fact no one had seen her since the defeat of the Absolute. It was as if she had all but vanished.

Years went by and Astarion had remained in Baldur's Gate, expanding his influence throughout the city and even acquiring a new consort or two.

His spawn were forbidden to mention the Hero of Baldur's Gate by name, but all of them were well aware of his apparent 'hatred' for the druid. His consorts, Aeric and Belmine even attempted to vandalize the statue the Gate had built to honor their hero. They believed it would please their master if they had disfigured the statue's pretty face. To their surprise however Astarion was not the slightest bit happy about their efforts at all.

"You actually believed I'd praise you for this? For debasing a glorified rock? I should have you both flayed for wasting my time."

"We know how much you despise the druid, my lord. We were only wishing to please you!" Aeric, the handsome young wood elf man insisted.

"Master if you give us a chance we can do better. Allow us to seek out the hero and I will bring you her head." Belmine knelt down in front of the vampire lord, tail lowering behind her. Astarion looked down at the tiefling female with an intense glare.

"Winnie is mine. If anyone is going to end her life, it will be me."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"Winnie! Winnie! Wake up!" The dark haired feline exclaimed as she leapt up on the druid's chest, causing Winnie to let out a grunt.

"Ugh Maddie....What the hells?" Winnie groaned in frustration. The black furred tressym hopped of her and onto the side of the bed.

"Come on we need to get the chores finished and start brewing. There are a few deliveries to make today!" Maddie exclaimed, her tail flicking behind her. Winnie rubbed her eyes, letting out a sigh as she rolled out of bed. Her hair was all frizzed up and a couple drops of drool ran down her chin.

"Up up! Let's not dally." Maddie exclaimed before using her wings to glide over to the nightstand and grab hold of Winnie's hairbrush in her jaws. Winnie walked over and took it from her before combing through her bird's nest of hair. Winnie then stripped down before getting out a green tunic and some boots. Her eyes glanced over at the mirror as she examined herself. She had slimmed down a bit since leaving the Gate and going off on her own.

Winnie had settled down in a small village southeast of the Wood of Sharp Teeth. After everything with the Netherbrain, she just wanted to find peace for a time. Her loyal familiar Maddie had insisted on moving in with her, being very worried about her companion's mental state.

"I say we cook some eggs up for breakfast after we finish chores hm?" Maddie suggested as they exited the house.

"That sounds fine, but some of the chickens are getting a bit of an attitude. Mildred bit me the other day." Winnie huffed as they approached the chicken coop.

"Not sure what it is, but something has had them spooked these last few weeks." Maddie replied before suddenly bumping into the back of Winnie's feet. "Is something wrong?" The Tressym gazed up at what appeared to have caught Winnie's attention. Up high in one of the trees were a group of bats, hanging from a branch. Beady red eyes were scanning over the farm.

"Strange. It's not normal for bats to be up during the day." Winnie stated.

"Hmm... Perhaps they were spooked like the chickens?" Maddie suggested, "either way we best get to work so we don't have to skip breakfast."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I may or may not continue this at a later date.

~Druid

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arainaizevran · 11 months ago

Text

romanced wyll's reaction to the player sleeping with mizora:

Wyll: I was such a godsdamned fool. I believed in you. I believed in us. (devnote: Upset - player cheating on him with his own cambion)

28. Wyll: And out of every soul walking the planes, you chose her.

46. Player: It's not what you think it is, I swear.

Link to Node 165

207. Player: And I'd do it again. She was incredible. ['Wyll -7']

31. Wyll: More incredible than the love we might have shared, the kingdom we might have built?

165. Wyll: We danced, we made a connection. And you severed it for a single bite of the Hells.

10. [Jump] Jump to Node 224 (2)

172. Player: Listen, Wyll. She manipulated me into it. You of all people should understand.

137. Wyll: I gave up my soul for the city, not for some diabolical fling.

Link to Node 224

43. Player: It was a mistake. I don't want to lose what we have because of this.

37. Wyll: What did you expect? You layed a half-devil. She does not give without taking.

224. Wyll: I saw a future for us. A kingdom, even. And you shattered it for a single bite of the Hells.

178. Player: So that's it, then? No more 'us'?

80. Wyll: You had your chance, and unleashed a wildfire. Nothing left but dust.

Link to Node 111

215. Player: Please, stick with me. No more dalliances - I only want you.

80. Wyll: You had your chance, and unleashed a wildfire. Nothing left but dust.

73. Player: It was only sex, Wyll. Do you have to be so dramatic?

16. Wyll: You shared your body with the fiend who holds my soul. I can forgive it. I can't forget it. (if pact isn't broken)

111. Wyll: You have my might - I owe you that much. But don't owe you more. End

184. Wyll: You shared your body with the fiend who held my soul. I can forgive it. I can't forget it. (if pact is broken)

Link to Node 111

126. Player: Can you blame me? It's not like you've been putting out. ['Wyll -7']

88. Wyll: Is that what matters to you? Sex without union, heat without heart? Did you not take joy in the dance?

#.txt #bg3 spoilers #the last two dialogue options are so fucked 😭

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stoneagedevil · 1 year ago

Text

Red and Blue (But Mostly Red) | Billy Hargrove x Reader

PART ONE: “Cherry Red, Denim Blue, and White Hot Rage”

CW/TW: cops, speeding, use of “babe,” etc.

—🏁—

You didn’t particularly care to uphold a reputation for keeping your word, for honestly, or for keeping your sleeves trick-free. In fact, you didn’t really have that sort of honest reputation at all. On occasion you broke promises, told lies, and divulged in a little semi-harmless cheating and deceit.

This track record was the sole reason for your time, date, and setting for this street race. After getting to know certain officials through your dad and just a general set of observational skills, you knew when, where, and how long certain cops liked to sit in certain places.

When one owns a fast car, one thinks ahead. Really, it was your dad’s fault. Growing up with a government agent as a parent was bound to instill some level of secrecy in you, as well as the skills to evade watchful eyes.

Throughout the week you’d subtly pester who you come to know as “Billy Hargrove.” The Keg King, the hottest lifeguard, the serial womanizer, the resident adrenaline junkie. Whatever else he could be called, it was something you took note of. You kept your friends close, and your enemies closer.

Pestering was defined through winks in the hallways, slamming a locker door shut every now and then, and to really get under his skin, making a scene in the cafeteria which involved you sitting in his lap and asking if he was getting cold feet.

Yes, it really was no wonder that you became fast friends with Munson.

“So you met Billy Hargrove.” Eddie mentioned, the boys suddenly stopped their chatter to listen in.

Putting on an air of poshness, you replied,“My dearest Munson, that begs the question, doesn’t it?” Nose pointed up at the ceiling, you sat poised.

“And what question might that be L/N dearest?” He played into the character, matching your demeanor.

You turned suddenly, smirking. “Did I meet Billy Hargrove, or did Billy Hargrove meet me?” The table burst out in jovial laughs.

As Eddie caught his breath, he questioned you again. “So, think you’ll kick ass in the street race?” Eddie asked as he picked at some pretzels.

“Think? I know I would. But I don’t need to. I thought of something a little more fun.” You snatched a pretzel, snapping it in half with your pearly whites.

“Sabotage?” He smiled, eyes crinkling, his hands rubbed together as though he were a villain planning something diabolical.

“Tut tut Munson. I wouldn’t say sabotage is the right word. As if I’d do anything to his precious Camaro.” You stated, as if it were obvious.

Eddie huffed in frustration, causing his wild bangs to fly upwards and his forehead to make a surprise appearance. “Alright alright. So what is it?” He leaned in closer, as the rest of the boys did, waiting on bated breath to hear from Y/N The Cunning.

“I’d never do anything. What will- excuse me- what MAY get him in trouble, are events he partakes in on his own volition. I shall tell you no more, and no less, my friends.” The rest of the table sighed in frustration impatiently, while Eddie’s laugh appeared once again.

You chuckled smugly. This band of brats had really warmed up to you, and despite having the chance to run with the popular crowd, you pretty much defied the laws of high school cliques and wove in and out of groups as you pleased. Really, you were a shapeshifter. You got along with all groups on some level.

But at the end of the day, you spent most of your time with Eddie and the kids.

————

The day came when you’d face Billy in one of the most anticipated street races in Hawkins. You’d cleaned your car and waxed it to glimmering perfection, and gave yourself a spa day as well. What was most integral to this plan of yours, was remembering to take your Polaroid camera along for the ride.

So, with nothing else to do, and the time of the race approaching, you set off in your Corvette, driving to the designated road. As you pulled in, you saw about half of the school in attendance, all looking at each other and talking amongst themselves. You you make out “she showed up”’s and, “I thought she chickened out”’s here and there.

You arrived after Billy had, who was talking up his supporters, declaring how he’d win like it was nothing. Leave it to him to only show up early to a race over anything else going on in his life.

Now, your car may have been older by a few years, but she was still a sports car, and she was born to go fast. Just like you.

However, for now, you’d keep it in first gear.

You both parked your cars on a crudely drawn chalk line. Wheels in perfect synchronization.

Billy turned to you, his windows long rolled down. “Never too late to back out sweetheart. Don’t wanna make a fool out of ourselves, do we?” He smiled. Really, his heart was racing faster than his car ever could. You’d shown up, flawless, car flawless, engine purring.

At his jest, you pulled your sunglasses down to your nose and made direct eye contact with him, pressing the gas gently. Your engine roared in a challenge to him, and you slowly put your shades back up and turned to face the road. Billy exhaled through O-shaped lips. He was sure you’d be the death of him.

One of your classmates stood in between the hoods of your cars, taking a bandana and holding it high in the air.

“Racers! First down the road and back to cross this line wins! Any questions?!” She yelled through red lips.

“Yeah, what do I get if I win?” Billy asked, turning to you. “How about a date?” He smiled again, chewing his mint gum.

You smiled in return. “Be prepared for disappointment babe.”

“Don’t think I can be disappointed when it comes to you.” He winked. You laughed. This back and forth was some of the most fun you had in ages.

“Racers ready!” The flag girl yelled once the exchanged was over. The crowd was buzzing in excitement. You and Billy turned to face the road, engines rumbling in anticipation. “Racers steady…..” she yelled.

Deep breathes in, and out.

“GO! GO! GO!” She screamed, throwing her arm down in a swift motion. Billy shifted immediately into first gear, expertly going straight into third. And when the dust cleared….

…you were, sitting?

You hadn’t moved.

“Y/N! The race started! Go!” A crowd erupted in a commotion as to why you’d talk so much smack and suddenly throw this chance away to beat the man who couldn’t be beat.

“Patience everyone!” You yelled over them, your voice stern and commanding. Silence washed over the crowd. “I’ll go when I need to.”

You checked your watch, and proceeded to move your car down the road at the designated speed limit. Down the road, you saw red and blue flashing lights with a cop outside of his cruiser, standing next to the blue Camaro you’d seen a minute or so prior. You slowed down and pulled up next to Billy’s window, shouting.

“Hey leadfoot! Smile pretty!” You took your Polaroid and snapped a picture of his embarrassed face at the fact that he’d been pulled over. He groaned and slammed his head down on the wheel.

You drove slowly down the road, and back, where you inevitably won the race. Not like you had much competition.

Pulling in past the line, you got out of your car. “Slow and steady everyone.” You said smugly, shaking a small, thin, white square in your hand. When the image developed, you held it up for everyone to see…

…revealing a red, embarrassed (but grinning) Billy Hargrove.

Everyone laughed and cheered, crowning you the car queen of Hawkins High.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t done pestering Billy yet.

-🏁-

Thinking about making a part 3, but it might be a tad short. Y’all alright with that?

#fanfic #x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy stranger things #billy hargrove #eddie stranger things

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wefallforever · 9 months ago

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Season 4 and 5 Once Upon a Time Rewatch Reflections

I’m combining the two seasons because my season 4 post kept getting flagged as mature and then I lost my phone which had that write up on it 😔😔

-the dynamic between Emma and Regina gives me heart eyes! They are so fiercely protective over each other it makes me swoon. Honestly they should have kept Hook dead so that swan queen could finally happen. When Henry refers to them as his moms or when they call Henry THEIR son I die!

-thank god Belle finally accepted that Rumple ain’t shit. I know his accent is hot but damn girl stand up!

-It’s good that they gave Ursula a happy ending. I think it’s sus that they killed Merlin off in such a brutal way 🙃 anti-Blackness is too much man.

-Zelena is a dastardly ass woman 😭 getting pregnant so your opps can’t hurt you? Fucking diabolical. She’s in a race with Rumple for worst villain on the show.

-I’m glad they brought Mulan back but her story line still makes me sad :( Asian queer women deserve better than this smh.

-I was shocked that Ruby and Dorothy got an on screen kiss!!!!!! I guess gay shit is ok as long as it’s not the main characters? 😒😒😒 THIS IS MAKING ME SO MAD WE COULD HAVE HAD IT ALLLLLL!

-Dark One Emma is incredibly hot ok?! I love how sultry her voice is.

-I don’t care how big a tantrum my kid would throw, there is ZERO chance I would be taking them to the underworld on a mission to save my dead lover. You can stay your ass at home with Granny and Merida! Henry is sooo willful I guess it runs in the family!

-When Cruella called baby Neal chisel chin junior I laughed for several minutes lol.

On a final note, I’m really intrigued by the idea of destiny and how it plays out in the show. I believe there is a path set out for us in life but it can take many routes, twists and turns. We as individuals navigate these routes based on our actions, environment, personal goals and ambition. We can choose to lean into our selfish “evil villain” urges in times of conflict, then change our direction by being compassionate, then turn back to confrontational behavior all in one day! We can choose to let our pain and suffering fester into “monstrous” behaviour, or we can confront it and transform it into our own personal “magic.” We are truly the authors of our fate. Here’s hoping that despite everything the writers put Regina through she has a happy ending!

Also I decided to wait until I finish the entire series to make the astrology post because I want to see everyone’s complete character development before I make my final judgement. I’m almost halfway through season 6 so it’ll be here soon ☺️.

#once upon a time #rewatch reflections #swan queen

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emblemxeno · 9 months ago

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Xenoblade 1 DE Main Story/Game Thoughts

Finished the main story! I didn't go full completion but I got full affinity for all areas and saw every Heart-to-Heart. More detailed thoughts-including spoilers-under the cut!

-For starters, DE is a great update to the original. Many QoL improvements trims the extra menu time down a lot (inventory management, art books, equipment/gems, etc.), especially swapping gems. Also hell yes to including the appearance feature from X, as someone who prefers the default outfits for everyone!

-Same applies to battle stuff and general gameplay. Quest tracking, gauges on things like Break and Topple, clearer status effects, chance arts being highlighted, even something as small as the scroll between Talent Arts/Running/Chain Attacks being more streamlined had many great returns on me not pressing the wrong thing.

-However... why did they not just go all the way with more changes? The two big ones that come to mind are trading and Colony 6 collecting. First, why can you not bulk trade? It is such a time sink having to constantly open the menu again and again. And since trading and skip travelling share a button, I clocked probably over a hundred instances of opening the damn map menu instead of trading since there's a second of cooldown before the option appears for the NPC again! It's an annoyance that is easily ignored once or twice, but absolutely brutal after the tenth time.

-Jumping ahead a bit, but I speak not just criticizing DE but XC1 as a whole. It's probably an unpopular opinion but I don't like the ongoing Colony 6 reconstruction sidequest. The first time I completed it-about half a decade ago I think-was magical! Seeing a ruined home blossom into a lively city due to my hard work was something I'll never forget as an RPG fan. But I don't have that kind of time on my hands anymore (or I simply have better management of time now that I don't stay up til 4 am playing video games anymore lol). Exploring Bionis and Mechonis is an undeniably wondrous and beautiful experience, but only when doing normal quests (well most of the normal quests) and progressing the story. Jogging around places trying to find each item is incredibly unfun and tedious. The big offenders are typically Ice Cabbages (luckily I got all the ones I need by playing through the Valak portion of the story), Rainbow Slugs (I spent an entire hour on the Fallen Arm ugh), and the Black Liver Beans. The last one was the breaking point, I can't stand the Bionis Interior and after an hour in there just trying to find one, I said fuck it and did the Time Attack trials to get them that way. It was just not... good! I don't like it a bit.

-Last thing on DE specifically, I found that the graphics are apparently controversial among fans? I'm understanding of the position, as there's definitely a charm that the original artstyle had, especially being on the Wii. But to me the original has more issues in its visuals than just being a different artstyle. Poor resolution, blocky models, souless faces when not in an important cutscene, absolutely diabolical pop-in. And some say that the original gave its characters more personality during cutscenes, which... I don't get whatsoever. Did we watch the same scenes, cuz it's very hard to distinguish emotion in the original, whereas DE has better mouth, eyebrow, and facial movements. Certain scenes may "look" more emotional in the original, but things get exaggerated all the time to compensate for poor resolution or graphics.

-Now on to the just XC1 in general! Holy fuck the main cast is better than I remember. Shulk, Fiora, and Melia were already my favorites, but honestly... Dunban is probably my absolute favorite out of all of them now. His story is just so succinct and he's just so cool and hot and kind and just ughhhhhh!

-Egil is still best villain in the game, no surprise. Revisiting this game honestly made it really fucking clear why I loved Dimitri from 3H so much cuz the two are so similar (to the point where you can pull line's from the game about Egil and put them in 3H). The others fair less well. Metal Face/Mumkhar is delightfully hammy and an amazing threat for the first half of the game, but is as deep as a puddle. Dickson and Lorithia I found I dislike even more, for the wrong reasons; they lack charisma, and it's noticeable in places where the game gets really anime in its hammy villainy, but they're written and played a bit too straight for it to come off as anything other than lackluster. Though at least Dickson has presence as Shulk's caretaker and the guy who everyone knows and respects; Lorithia though? Throw her away. Honestly if Yumea took her place and retained the bigotry against Homs it'd be much more entertaining IMO.

-Zanza himself is a definitive mixed bag. Were I ignorant to Klaus' entire story from XC2, I'd honestly write him off as a by-the-numbers arrogant (but secretly imperfect and prone to "human" folly) god figure that happens in many, many RPGS. But I can't dislike him because I do know the entire story, and Zanza being an utter dickwad is explained in great detail and makes sense. Honestly, he does work for the story that XC1 is telling without playing XC2 as well, but ehhh. I guess it's just really difficult to be the main villain after Egil does such great things in a limited time.

-Narrative is great, just as it was the first time I played. Highlights for me:

Singlemindedly fighting for revenge is destructive not just to your enemies, but to yourself and your friends. Ignorance and unwillingness to look beyond your own world or history means you may be hurting innocent people without realizing it. Chaining your life to the deaths of others rather than supporting the survivors is unhealthy and can lead you down a path of misery and disaster.

Ether is not just analogy for carbon/other base elements in our world. Philosophically it's analogous to light and fate as well. Shulk unlocks the Monado's powers when he stops treating it as a tool with functions, but rather as an extension of his will. He wills his wishes into his heart, and they are made manifest. He protects Reyn with Shield not cuz the Monado lets him, but because he desired it. Same with Sharla and Speed, and it's how Alvis taught him to unlock Purge. It's how he resists Apocrypha, and later gains Cyclone once the Apocrypha is destroyed. His will is so strong, it becomes resistant to Zanza's influence, hence why he starts suffering the more he learns of Mechonis' history. The truth being brought to light is painful internally and externally, as Zanza physically rejects anything that challenges how he sees the world. Shulk brings himself back to life, begins having visions without Zanza, and gains his own Monado-which looks purely made of ether and light-through pure willpower and the desire to create his own future.

Shulk's duality and inner turmoil when he realizes his yearning for revenge is destructive; Fiora's endless strength of heart when dealing with a machine body and carrying on Meyneth's wishes; Melia going through hell and back trying to find a balance between her sense of self and sense of duty (I imagine Future Connected is gonna touch on that more as well); Dunban grappling with his moniker of being a hero and mentoring the party despite being imperfect and lamenting his disability; Reyn's goal of being a protector developing into being a supporter once he becomes insecure over his strength and character compared to Shulk; Sharla trying to keep hold onto a sense of hope that her love is alive before coming to terms with the fact that she needs to cherish her life and love those within it; Riki just being the fucking best dad and friend in the world.

Having played XC2 and XC3 makes all these things even richer as well.

-Last but not least, gameplay:

-Most quests are good. Most. The generic quests weren't ever fun for me, and they cause significant bloat that could've been trimmed IMO. Especially since lots of quests ask you to kill monsters and collect items anyway.

-The method to get quests started though? Awful. I know that things like Community in Torna and Field Skills in XC2 are hated, but man I can't stand having to change the clock and track the damn NPCs in XC1. Especially since there are many areas separated between towns/villages and "wild" areas (Colony 6 and Bionis Leg, Frontier Village and Makna, Alcamoth and Eryth + Valak), it just makes things so drawn out. Going back and forth, changing time and all that, is a sour point on this game.

-Like I said a few weeks ago, the Xenoblade series as a whole is unmatched in gameplay story telling. Beautiful and large environments make curious exploration a treat, especially as you start getting pieces to puzzles that can get completed later. I payed a lot more attention to the High Entia and Giant related sidequests due to the fascinating lore, for example.

-The fights are great, if a bit centralizing. Shulk, due to Monado arts, is the best character to have in the party and is sorely missed when switched out. I have pretty standard opinions on the rest of the characters, so no need to speak on each individually. I will say though, holy fuck is the AI just as bad as I remember. Shulk wastes his Monado gauge, Sharla is terrible at using arts and always puts herself into cooldown, and Melia for the love of god, stop firing elementals as soon as you summon them you're made of tissue.

Topple locking is deffo the prime strategy, cuz there were fights I wouldn't otherwise have won were it not for it, and thankfully Reyn and Dunban have pretty good AI.

Two major gripes though. Spikes are a terrible mechanic, gross. Second, I hate that the enemy tags affect accuracy, it makes certain quests extremely brutal to complete without grinding. And I just hate having to fight tough/overlevelled enemies as a whole, it becomes routine and simple after a while.

As a whole, I like the gameplay still, but it feels very restrictive going back to it after seeing all the crazy tricks I could do in 2 and 3. And also auto-attack arts > timer arts forever and ever.

-Overall a very great experience getting to replay this game like this. Though more rough points than I remember, and with certain things that have not aged well whatsoever , XC1 is still a good game that I'm glad introduced me to this series. I'm taking a break before playing Future Connected.

#playingxc1 #shulk xenoblade #fiora xenoblade #xenoblade #xenoblade chronicles #xenoblade chronicles 1

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