#little lucid verse

[brokendreamscreation-moved]

Lil Lucid yawns, his big blue eyes refusing to stay open any longer. Baby hands bundle into fists, rubbing one against his face sleepily before suckling upon the thumb. Lane on his belly, the cherubs downy soft wings fold against his back. He begins to drift off to sleep.

[brokendreamscreation-moved]

@helluva-hazbins

Cup of duck (via)

[brokendreamscreation-moved]

Lil Lucid doodle I made a while back for a warm-up. His wings were yellow-white when he was a bab and they molted into his sky blue colors as he grew. His eyes also used to have a ring of yellow around them. A headcanon I have is that Lucid had the potential to grow into the exact same colors as pre-fall Lucifer had (if he was not blue in the multiverse in question). So they could have stayed golden or even become red, but his magic and environment coaxed him to turn blue.

[phyrestartr]

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.2) NSFW

W/C: 3.2k #NSFW, THEY FUCKIN', bottom!reader, top!sukuna, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, sukuna ignores feelings through the force of sheer willpower, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, dubcon elements, blood as lube (SORRY), Sukuna unhinged horknee, ABO elements

A/N: I wanted to make this include more parts, but I am so flabbergasted and in awe of the response to this fic that I feel the need to feed y'all feral creatures LMAO. JKJK but 👀 Thank you for all the feedback and support! It really gives me the motivation to continue writing and to interact with the JJK community. I'm having a lot of fun!

tags: @kamote-kuneho @kamote-kuneho @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah

“What the fuck is this?” Sukuna drawled, an intense fury simmering through his being. His gaze couldn't tear free from you, not even to size up the blindfolded weirdo watching him intently. 

He shattered the coffin, freeing you from the makeshift cursed bath some freak had forced you into. He smoothed damp hair from your sickly face and searched for sparks of life somewhere in the cold stillness that'd overtaken you. And there was something. He found it, a little glimmer of vitality in the smallest, shakiest inhale. 

“Good,” he praised, brushing your hair back more and more to get a better look at your face. You looked like the frail little thing he saved all those decades ago.

“You know,” Gojo interrupted, but Sukuna paid him no mind, “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you actually cared about that kitsune.” 

“Then you don't know what this is,” Sukuna decided blandly. “Figures.” Kenjaku kept him off the record, huh? Guess that's a bonus.

“Oh? Do you wanna enlighten me before Yuuji comes back?” Gojo smiled, as if he really expected Sukuna to play nice and be honest with him. “Come on, come on, it's your chance to be vulnerable~” 

“Tch. Pretty damn sure the fox'll be the one to tell you.” His hand smoothed over your stomach and rubbed slow, gentle circles against your skin as reverse technique sought to bring you all back to him. “He yaps about as much as your insufferable ass does. Granted, he talks a lot nicer.” 

“Wow, rude.” Gojo sighed and clapped twice as if clapping on a light. “Okay! I've had enough bullying. Yuuji–” 

“Brat, don't you fucking dare–” 

Yuuji inhaled sharply. He blinked owlishly at your calmed expression, your eyes now closed and breathing now steadied thanks to Sukuna's aid. 

Aid. That wasn't something the king did. 

“Sensei,” Yuuji managed, voice quivering under the weight of memories’ emotion. “Can you fix this?”

Somehow, you were stuck in the throes of flirtation with the malevolent king of curses. 

“It may be courtship,” Uraume guessed, soft smile brightening their cold exterior. 

(They'd been smiling more recently, actually, ever since you completed that overcoat and presented it to them. Nary a day went by when they did not don the sentimental garb.)

But you weren't so sure; the event of courtship was serious business across all lucid creatures. Animals and creatures of primal existence sought out partners with favorable genes and strong constitution, whereas humans and the like yearned for merit or love in their coupling. You didn't quite grasp the way humans thought. Not yet. 

Well, save for flirting. You decided it was a sort of pre-courtship where nothing became serious and nothing was on the line, but frivolous touches and haughty words of praise ran rampant when those concerned crossed paths. 

Much like today.

(Much like the days before and after.)

You walked along the stone-paved path most mornings, lost in thoughts and mumbling to yourself bits and pieces of poems. Most were unfinished, but in their own time, verses would find one another and complete the incomplete. 

A groggy yawn hummed from the palace entrance. And moments later, Ryoumen Sukuna fell into step with you, grumbling and mumbling complaints about the nippy Spring morning while he tucked his arms away into his sleeves. 

He followed you, idly looking around the expansive space you'd helped curate and maintain when you weren't busying yourself with the girls or decorating clothing. The gardens weren't a mess before, not at all, but now they had a certain taste–trees and flowers were planted with specificity, stones were moved, paths reworked. You took the outside over completely. The king didn't mind. 

“Sukuna-sama,” you said, voice melting in kind with the morning frost. “I'll need to leave for a short while.” 

Sukuna quirked a brow and looked at you. You gazed upon the large, thick koi flashing their beautiful scales and ornate patterns of orange and white as they swam and followed you. Tch. How come even the fish were drawn to you? 

“And how do you think you'll accomplish that?” Sukuna tossed a rock into the koi pond, making the fish scatter. “Getting away from me isn't something you can do.”

You huffed and looked at him. “I understand. I simply seek your permission.” 

“Denied.”

“Ah.” You deadpanned. “Why?”

“You're mine; I decide where you go, how you breathe, if you eat. Or are you forgetting that?” 

You sighed and let your ears droop sadly with your tails. “Surely you jest.” 

“Are you laughing?”

You whined like a sad, sad street pup before cozying up to him, slipping your hands up his stomach and chest like you were supposed to. “Please?” 

“No.” 

You chittered and pressed your face against him, but didn't protest and complain much more. 

Sukuna’s thoughts whirled. The show was amusing, sure, but you didn't do anything without reason, especially when it had to do with breaking character and acting out like this out of–

Oh? 

Sukuna leaned down and sniffed you, searching for the intriguing coil of flowery citrus he nearly missed on the warming breeze. It was so, so faint, but decadent and alluring in a way that made the master of toxins cautious–most poisons tasted sweet, after all. 

You pulled your head back, shrinking down the slightest bit with your ears flattened against your skull. Your eyes, wide as a full moon, stared up at him, expectant. The touch of your hands on him never left, though.

“Brassavola nadosa.” Sukuna tilted his head. “You smell like it.” 

You blinked curiously, relaxing. “Is that so?” 

We don't have that orchid in the garden. Sukuna hummed and lifted a lock of your hair, catching another weak waft of the flower's faint scent. 

It's coming from him, then. Hm. 

“Tell me again why you want to leave the palace?” Sukuna asked on a hunch.

And that hunch doubled down when you fidgeted with the cloth of his haori and looked aside. 

“I wish to bear children," you admitted, shy and quiet. "To try, at the very least. Perhaps find a mate, too.” 

Children. You wanted children. After everything those sorcerers put you through for who knows how many years, you still wanted to mother a runt of your own. And you were willing to run off into the wild to, what, let some random man knock you up? Fill you with seed of unknown origin, unknown value, unknown potential?

Sukuna's ego flared. He leaned down to you, tilting your chin up to make you look him in the eyes regardless how small you felt in that moment. He deserved to witness you. You deserved to witness him. 

“You're not leaving,” he breathed, and he swore he could hear your heart break. “If you want a brat, you'll get a brat–only if you stay here 'n give up on those shitty thoughts of finding a sire out there.”

Your eyes scanned his face, tracing over serious lines and honest creases. Clearly, you searched for an answer–

“How?” 

–one that Sukuna didn’t have. Or maybe he did. Perhaps he just couldn't find the words for it. 

He scoffed and ruffled up your hair, unable to answer you. “You're not leaving. Not unless I say so.” 

The first time he let you go, he left scars. 

He found you in your chambers come early evening. Your tails swished and flicked as you sat amidst a nest of his robes and the missing linens from his chambers while you futzed over the embroidery of another haori, this time adorning the plain thing with the darkest scarlet one could find. Sukuna could already guess why. 

Your being burns as wildfires do. Lively. Emphatically. Devouring more and more so long as the earth lets you. Yet where you do not lay ruin, you grant warmth and light in a divine way. Wildfires are not such horrible things if one stays a respectable ways away. 

Your poetic nonsense irritated him to no end, but he fell enamored all the same; you spoke to honor him with every utterance of his name. You didn't try to kiss his feet nor did you bask him in compliments–you only spoke into existence that which hummed through your mind, unprovoked. It just so happened to be everything Sukuna liked to hear. 

So when he found you secluded away, beckoning so sweetly with intoxicating scents of citrus and gardenia, what choice did he have but to lay claim, to give you the brat you so sorely yearned for?  

You sensed him. Your gaze flicked to him, stoic and unmoved as ever, as the energy in the room built into suffocating silence, something like tectonic plates caught in deadlock, holding their disastrous energy, waiting for the right moment to devastate the world with a single, cataclysmic shift.

And of course, it was the impatient predator that moved first, setting a catastrophe into motion. 

The hours blurred together. 

Every minute of the chase was thrilling, invigorating, surprising–you were filled with tricks and traps, never slowing down for a second to think or doubt as the beast of a sorcerer pursued you through his palace, through the city below, and now into the looming forest in the mountains. 

Admittedly, he'd gotten carried away. He lost himself in the rush of it all, the adrenaline and pure, destructive desire pushed his self-control into unraveling just the slightest bit; honest attacks tore through space and time, hoping to maim and cripple you if they were to hit. And, honestly, the way you avoided his attempts to strike you down enthralled him as much as it enraged him–he was seconds away from unleashing his domain until a less-than-satisfying ripple of cursed energy tore across your thigh and put you down.

It was then, walking up to you, to his prey, that Sukuna remembered you weren't a sorcerer. Most would be able to stand and walk it off, maybe even heal with reverse technique, but you could only grasp at your weeping wound and grimace. Because you were not a sorcerer, you were a kitsune: a trickster, a creature full of mischief and void of cursed energy. 

Yokai. Not a human. Not a curse. Not like the rest of the boring souls wandering his earth. 

Sukuna pinned you the second you tried to make a break for it. Fangs and claws gnashed and tore into him while his hands strained to keep you down and rip those damn clothes free from your burning skin. 

Mating's never a pretty thing when it comes to nature. Humans like you made it something more.

Sukuna clasped a hand over your mouth and forced his weight onto you, ripping reedy yowls from your core as you twisted and turned, primal mind urging you to run, run, run, don't make this easy, make him prove his worth–

Rip.

Ribbons of what were once your robes fluttered to the ground, useless and unsalvageable. They were plain black, so unlike what you usually wore. You wouldn't miss them. 

“Make this as difficult as you want, pet,” Sukuna whispered as he loomed over you. His hand slid from your mouth to your throat when you stilled.  

“You know how this ends.” 

His pants were pulled down while another hand wiped slippery blood against your pliant entrance–and that was the only warning you got before he pushed into you. 

Where you should have screamed, you instead sighed. Your back arched off the ground like a work of art. Two hands gave up on holding you down in favour of gripping your waist and hips, pulling you closer to him, forcing you flush against his body. 

He noticed it then: a litany of old scars and discoloured marks shining against your skin. Marks left by those who did not deserve to taste such a delicacy. 

Unsightly.

Blood painted the grass. Cleaves and slashes ate away at those tainted scars, painting over the ugliness left hidden for too long–now, his marks would decorate you. Now, those hidden scars would mean something. They’d mean everything. 

Yet Sukuna's selfish maiming wasn't fitting the bill, and your antsy-ness was proof of it. You tried for the last time to pull from him, but his grip tightened around your throat. You gazed at him, then, eyes so wide and hungry, eager to fight or fuck–whichever came first. 

He braced over you and nearly winced as he dragged out of your suffocating heat. A sharp snap back inside loosened you, the glide of blood and slick aiding him. 

“I'll take you the way you need it,” he drawled as he built the pace quickly, already feeling his own obsession and excitement reverberating through his body, filling every fibre of muscle with electricity.

“Then,” he growled, leaning closer to your face. “I'll fuck you the way you want it.”

“More,” you sighed, digging your nails into the pillow you had your face buried in while the beast fucked you from behind. Sukuna groaned in compliance and lanced into your guts deeper, harder, faster than before–you were the only one that could handle the brutal way he let loose, and he was more than willing to indulge in that privilege. 

The hands all over you rose to the occasion, too; one had your tails fisted in his ruthless grasp, rudely holding you still and pulling you back against his hips; another rested on the curve of your ass, only moving to give a sharp slap or to knead your soft, perfect skin; the last two held your hips in a crushing force, his calloused fingers digging into your plush sides and sharp hip bones like you might disappear at any second. 

A sharp, sweet whine signaled the beginning of the end, as did the restless fidgeting and shifting in the king's grasp. Seeing you, a poised, powerful, mischievous being, come undone beneath him came to be one of Sukuna’s favourite sights, especially knowing it could only be because of him--only him. 

He leaned over you, his heavy chest pressing into your back as one hand released your waist in favour of fisting in your hair and tugging your head back and out of the futon you so desperately clung to. 

“Ah-ah,” he scolded breathily. “No hiding.” It was a familiar sentiment, one he had no problem reminding you of now and again. You had a horrible habit of trying to vanish when overwhelmed, after all. 

“Terrible beast,” you snapped back, scoffing indignantly when the deep bassy laugh of the man rolled through your body. “Horrible.” 

“You love it,” Sukuna growled back, grinning through every word. 

Something about it clearly struck a chord with you, judging by how fast you choked on your voice and came undone, legs trembling and body tightening around the too-big intrusion. The king groaned and bit at your neck, licking whatever blood beaded at the surface in between rushed, hushed words of praise for you and your efforts–most, if they heard the things he said, would call it out of character for the beast. Most didn't get to see beyond his raw power and crippling cruelty, however. 

Sukuna grunted and spilled inside you, pulling you back by your hair, hips and tail to ensure he forced every bit of his offerings deep into your core. Your body rocked and twitched against his, accepting all he had to offer you at the end of yet another coupling, before he let go of your locks and let you collapse face-first into the futon. 

He pulled out slowly, watching as every inch slipped from your abused hole before popping free and uncorking a dribble of whiteness from inside. He tutted and scooped it up with two fingers before stuffing it back in. 

“Oi, oi, are you even trying to keep it in?” He teased, smirking as you huffed. 

“You've exhausted me. I have no energy to attempt the impossible,” you lamented, nuzzling your nose further into the soft sheets smelling of cedar and fresh blooms–something so uniquely Sukuna. 

Your king sighed and gave your ass a firm few pats. “Guess I'll have to spoil you even more.” He settled onto his back and easily pulled you onto him, yanking you up to straddle his waist right where that second mouth laid open and eager to taste you. 

“This is uncouth,” you sighed. But you rocked back against the thick, heavy tongue pressing into your pliant heat, licking deep into you with a mind and hunger of its own. 

“Seems couth enough for you,” he commented, watching you ride his centre with rapt attention. “Little harlot's getting off on this, hey? Such a needy little brat.” 

His hands smoothed up and down your legs and sides as you shamelessly chased a second high. Your hands clasped over his as he took you into his hand and stroked you back to ample stiffness, the soreness of too many rounds of fucking making you far too sensitive to touch. 

“S-Sukuna-sama,” you stammered. “I can't–”

Sukuna's head tilted with a pleased smirk. “Ho? I thought you wanted to bear children? Are my offerings not enough for you?” 

You scrunched your face up into something of a prissy glare, but the shine clinging to your lashes and the shuddering of your body against his betrayed your crumbling demeanor. Of course, he was impressed with how his fox was fairing considering everything he put you through. 

He maneuvered you onto your back, grinning as you growled and weakly struggled against him. You looked perfect–stomach swollen, hair fanned out behind you, eyes teary but unable to tear away from the creature that’d tormented you for hours upon hours with no desire to give you a break. 

“Greedy god,” Sukuna lamented. One hand came to rest on your bruised neck again, fitting around so perfectly. “Nothing’s ever fucking good enough for you.” 

“You are.” 

That gave Sukuna pause. He stared down at you, all eyes looking over you with rapt attention as he tried to think. Tried to understand. Tried to parse those words and uncover what exactly you tried to convey. 

But it didn't click. 

“Tch. You're lucky I'm a generous god,” he scolded, releasing you from your torment in favour of collapsing down beside you for some much-needed rest. Not only did your beautiful body wear him out (not that he'd admit it), but your whimsical words wore his sanity thin. The worst part was you didn't even intend to damage him so. 

“I am truly honoured to merely be in your presence,” Your voice, light and dreamy as petals fluttering, laughed, and Sukuna's soul did something odd. 

He stared at the ceiling as you shuffled beside him, quickly returning to his side, donned in one of his haori and determined to make a comfortable nest of blankets and clothes around you both for the rest of the night–ah, morning? Huh. What an ordeal. 

You curled up next to him, shoving your back firmly against his side the way you often did when resting as a fox, and Sukuna huffed. 

“Turn to me,” he commanded, and you obeyed. 

He, too, turned to face you to envelope your lithe form with invincible arms and divine protection. Your soft purrs rolled through him, settling his wild spirit into a lazy tempo of an early morning stroll through a garden filled with one sort of white orchid: 

Brassavola nadosa. “Lady of the Night.” Your calling card. Your divine essence.

"Brassavola nodosa (Lady of the Night) is a medium-sized epiphytic or lithophytic orchid species boasting extremely fragrant flowers throughout the year. The blossoms, 4 in. across (10 cm), emit a citrus fragrance at night. Each flower features long, slender, pale green or creamy-white sepals and petals and a large, heart-shaped lip sometimes adorned with purple or dark red spotting." - gardenia.net

[ivynajspyder]

TECHNICAL SUPPORT JOINS THE TOURNAMENT @kirbyoctournament (just a little late haha)

Go to her blog here for lore and silly comics or send her asks!

NEW REF:

Name: Technical Support, but prefers to go by Techie

Bio: The younger sister of Holy Nightmare's Customer Service. Unlike her polite and smooth-talking brother, she can be rather rude and abrasive. She hates dealing with customers and blames them for breaking things. She tends to slack at her job and prefers doing her own tinkering and coding on the side.

She likes to tease her brother and cause problems for him. Really she likes to cause problems for anyone if it seems fun, but if you can appreciate a bit of chaos she's easy to get along with.

Background: She and CS are actually Nightmare's "children", and not just regular demon beasts he created. Why and how they were born is a mystery to most, including themselves, but Dr. Yeva was involved.

Abilities: She has the power to enter people's dreams, but not change them. She can give the dreamer the ability to lucid dream.

Likes: Video games, cute things, sweets, parties

Dislikes: Working, following rules, clowns

Other refs: (they're a bit older but still good. Mostly only her glasses design has changed)

(So there are technically two versions of this character. The other one belongs in the 'verse created by ShadowWolf many years ago, but they seem to have moved on to greener fandoms so I made a different thing for myself. Her origins are a bit different there and she goes by Rin)

[brokendreamscreation-moved]

@helluva-hazbins Lil Lucid energy 🤣

When you got caught 😻

More like this

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Stud.

Pairing: Yandere!Miguel x Reader (Spider-Verse).

Summary: Miguel wants a family. You don't, but he doesn't care.

A Grab Bag For A Very Lovely Anonymous Commissioner.

TW: Trans!Miguel, AMAB!Reader, N0n//C0n, Overstimulation, Forced Breeding, Bondage, Themes Of Helplessness, and Unhealthy Relationships.

You almost wished that he would paralyze you.

It was an awful thing to think, an awful thing to want, but you just couldn’t help it. You knew what it was like to be at the mercy of his venom. You could remember how it felt to have your body stiffen against your will, your joints lock into place, your mind remaining clear and lucid and hyper-aware that you couldn’t do anything to get away from him, and still, you couldn’t help but think it’d be better than this – than the feeling of his webbing pulsing around your wrists and ankles, of your body going limp not because of anything Miguel forced into your veins, but due to just how weak you were, compared to him. Then knowing he’d given you a fighting chance, and it hadn’t changed a thing.

Not that he’d meant to. It was a matter of practicality, of limiting as many adverse variables as he could without pumping you full of aphrodisiacs and turning you into a brain-dead toy. There’d been tests, nights spent with his fist wrapped around your cock as he measured your sensitivity, your refraction period, your… output, for lack of a less off-putting choice of words. Paralysis made things difficult, dampened your reactions, made it difficult to get what he wanted out of you and into him, and therefore, it was off the table, along with sedatives, tranquilizers, or anything else that might’ve made the experience less excruciating. You’d fought back at first, kicked and screamed and clawed at him in hopes that he’d do something to put you out of your misery, but that’d only earned you your improvised restraints and a knot of soreness in your pelvis, where his hips beat into yours. He was straddling you, knees bent and hands wrapped around the bars of his headboard, his expression caught between concentration and empty-headed lust. You couldn’t imagine how he was still upright, still rational, still riding you just as violently as he has been when he first slid you into him. You hadn’t done anything other than moan and cum, and you were barely on the verge of consciousness.

Barely, barely, then not at all. Your eyes fell shut, your mind going blank for all of half a second before one of his hands dropped to your face, cupping your chin and tilting your head back, keeping you awake despite your best efforts to save yourself just a few minutes of suffering. His pussy clenched around your cock as your eyes met, but any semblance of pleasure was lost to the agonizing burn of overstimulation. You wished you were numb. You wished he would let you go numb. “C’mon, amor,” he panted, his voice raspy and a tired smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “I know that’s not everything you can give me.”

It was. It really was. He’d already taken everything he could, from you. Your cum was already spilling out of his cunt, already mixing with his slick and pooling on his sheets. Your sides were rubbed raw where his muscular thighs were slotted against them, and you couldn’t begin to imagine the pain you’d be in tomorrow, after the adrenaline faded and the ache set in and Miguel’s ‘aftercare’ proved to be a glass of water, a military-style shower, and more unwanted affection. That was, if he even decided aftercare was necessary, if he didn’t just leave you tied up and prepped for your next breeding session. You wouldn’t put it above him, knowing how he tended to leave his half-finished projects spread across any available surface for months at a time. Despite your immobility, you shuddered, imagining yourself staying chained to his bed and milked dry until he got the two little lines he was looking for. Until he had something to fill the empty void in his chest where his heart should’ve been, the one your exploitation alone couldn’t heal.

You forced yourself not to think about it. You forced yourself not to think about the future. You forced yourself not to think about anything as his pace sped up, as he took to grinding himself against you, as his back arched and his head dipped lower and he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His skin was damp and hot, but it wasn’t a feeling you’d have to suffer for long. With labored, jerky movements, he raised his head and forced his lips against yours. The kiss was messy, violent, all teeth and tongue and fangs. You didn’t kiss back – if you had the strength, you wouldn’t have wasted it on that – but that did little to deter Miguel. He wanted to use you. Your cooperation (or lack thereof) wouldn’t change that.

“That’s it, just— Fuck, I know you’re going to love her.” You could feel him clenching around you, his slick dripping onto your stomach. He was going to cum again, and judging by the tightness in your chest, the raw agony clawing at the back of your skull, you weren’t far behind. “Do it. Knock me up. Breed me.”

It was an order, a demand, and you were too exhausted to disobey. It was more pitiful than anything – barely the forced, rigid aftershocks of however many climaxes he’d forced out of you. Still, his tight cunt forced every last drop out of you, milking you for all you were worth as he clenched his eyes shut and convulsed around you. Finally, finally, he went still, letting out a breath of a sigh before straightening his back. Through half-lidded eyes, you watched his hazy features contort into a careless grin, felt something deep inside of your chest fall and crack as he rolled his hips, falling back into a steady rhythm before you could so much as start to hope he was actually done with you, this time. “Just a little more,” he muttered, as your vision blurred and, exhausted and in agony, you slipped out of consciousness and into a restless, dreamless sleep.

“Just a little more, then we’ll be a family.”

[baeshijima]

once again… thinking thoughts of time travel au but it’s like. different periods/eras/aus after each traversal…

like one moment you (or the character, depending on which pov) are in the “canon”-verse and wake up the next moment in a european royalty era. you shakily try and adapt to the lifestyle you now occupy. many of the faces you see are familar to you, and yet they’re not the people you remember them to be. some are far colder than you remember, others are much more cordial than the versions you know of, and some seem to be the same on the surface.

and then you see him, and the world blurs and spirals and slips out of your control, the last thing you see being an outstretched hand.

you wake up to a new environment, one filled to the brim with futuristic modern technology and sky-high buildings and hovering vehicles. it’s a little overwhelming but, much like with the previous world you just barely left, you manage to find some ground to adapt on. it’s the same process; everyone is familiar but different, and you’ve never felt more like a stranger.

you see him once more, a glimpse of him speeding towards your general vicinity with deep-set eyes honed in on your direction. this time you manage to stay lucid for a little longer — a day or two more — but it is more than enough when stops in front of you, your name uttered with a confused familiarity. as it turns out, this version has dreamed of you; he has dreamed of you to the point of knowing things a stranger would not be privy to, but of things the he of the original world (of your world) would only know of.

you get to know him over the course of two days before it strikes once more. the world spins and blurs and sends you tumbling into the abyss. while the last thing you see yet again is an outstetched arm, the frantic call of your name is but a lingering whisper echoing amidst the chaos.

and then you get transported to another era. and then another. and another. and another. and… another.

each one lasts a bit longer after your fateful meeting, but you’ve begun to grow numb from the repetitive motions, from the forgetting to remembering. the hope to return back to your timeline slowly diminishes with each new world, with each new do-over you wish to be rid of, with each variation of him that grows more obsessive at the prospect of you leaving, for he has witnessed it aplenty through these wretched dreams of you disappearing while he is left to chase after your ghost again, and again, and again.

[madrone33]

I have been CHILLING this week post-Vengeance saga release! I managed to avoid debilitating stress and anxiety from the onslaught of fan stuff by simply avoiding all social media for the first two days, so it's been good!

However, I am now BACK, dumping my immediate reaction of the saga from a week ago. I thought I was ready. I was not ready. 600 Strike blew my mind. I was left staring blankly at my ceiling. Jorge please rest sometime, I'm begging you. The amount of talent beaming through my screen is exhausting even me.

Also, to every cast member and collaborator and behind the scenes person: y'all are amazing. Like seriously. I hope you all get a yummy drink and a cozy blanket and just. Bask in the satisfaction of a job well done. Hats off to y'all fr.

Anyways! I keysmashed the following at around midnight, 14 hours before the livestream ('cause australia is the superior timezone /j). Be warned there's LOTS of swearing 'cause sleep deprivation + incoherent excitement lol

AHHH IT'S GO TIME

Ok it's starting the same as the Goodspeed festival showed. Tho, the first lead in sound thing reminds me of Lucids.

Gorgeous vocals. Hate Calypso, love Wangui fr

"Let me speak!" She really doesn't care about his feelings huh. I noticed in LIP as well, she always makes it about her, which is absolutely in character.

Those ensemble harmonies tho!!

"... You do?" Girl you literally told him to lie smh

"Why in the world won't you love me too?" 'Cause he has a WIFE

IT'S HERMES TIME

FSA melody? YO??

"Cause I had one goal in mind..." the silence where the crew's chorus would come in is PAINFUL

BAG?? HERMES!!

"Hello old friend!" Grinning so hard rn

"Well it's a little bit ✨dangerous✨" AHHH IT'S HAPPENING

Fingertapping and headbopping to this chorus

"Put your whole braiin in it!" I love how he says that sm

"And lastly the wind bag" NEW STUFF

WINIONS

Wow ok I did not expect the wind bag to show up again. Tho it makes sense; this is probs the storm that Ody told Sirenelope kept blocking the way home

ODY SINGING THE CHORUS!!!!

RUTHLESSNESS MENTION

"Hermes! Thank you" AHHH THE CALLBACK! He sounds so tired and like down to his bones grateful this time 🥺

"I'm not the one who fought for you!" MY EYES WIDENED SO FAR. WE ALMOST GOT AN ATHENA NAMEDROP. I'll settle for the reference to her

Okeee. Charybdis!!

Oooh it's just like in the reference vid. No lyrics for this start part!

The 5/4 is amazing. And the electric guitar!!

God this song is SO BADASS

LETS GOOOO ODY!!!

ahhh I KNEW there'd be some sort of soft KYFC esque "I can't wait to make some new memories" type verse AND I WAS RIGHT

he sees ithaca!! Oh god poseidon's gonna show up isn't he

my heart's beating so fast i'm scared

PENELOPEEE

the ELECTRONIC DISTORTION OH NO IT'S HIM

RIGHT INTO GET IN THE WATER AHHH

"Coward" AHHHH I CAN'T BELIEVE WE'RE FINALY HEARING THIS FOR REAL

"That's when our paths collide!" THE RASP

"Now get in the water" Oh shiiiit here we go

the choir is so eerie

"GET IN THE WATER" THE GROWL

"aren't you tired poseidon" ooh it's this part!!

ha he changed it to ten years instead of eight like the demo had XD

"maybe you can learn to forgive" the line from that one snippet!

"No" oop

"DIE" DAMN that deep echo!!

*underwater sounds* oh shit ody's fucking dying

NO! FUCKING POLITES

EURY

ANTICLEA

FUCK YOU JORGE

THE CREW

WAITING??? EXCUSE ME WTF

AHHHHHH WHY TF DOES JAY LOVE HURTING US SO

HUH? HUH??? WHAT WAS THAT! AND THERE'S A FUCKING AD. Probs good, I need the break but WAHT. I KNEW he'd do another fucking polites reference gods damnit jorge WHEN I CATCH YOU

Ok time to hear 600 strike. Holy shit we're here

ELECTRIC GUITAR LETS GOOO

Aeolus theme. IS HE GONNA OPEN THE WIND BAG AGAIN??

600 MEN MOTIF HOLY SHIT

ANIME SCREAM

HOly shit there's magic sounds happening. I'm really curious about whatever Jorge's cooking up for the animatic in the livestream, 'cause I have no clue what's happening rn 👀

"For every comrade!" FSA melody!

"all those _ who were slaughtered by your hand" hmm I can't quite hear what he's saying there?

wait wait wait he's ACTUALLY using the power of his 600 men!!

"You idiot" damn lol

DIFFERENT BEAST ODY HOLY SHIT

is that a blade sound effect?

WAIT DID HE JUST STAB HIM WITH HIS OWN TRIDENT

HOLY SHIT ODY

HOLY FUCK

POP OFF ODY

OMG "MONSTER" AND THEN "RUTHLESSNESS"

BRO HE'S BEGGING??

*trident drops* hot damn ody

"Next to my wife." OHHHHHHH MIC DROP

Holy FUCK that was crazy

I'm gonna listen to it again.

Ok but holy shit Odysseus literally just tortured a god until he gave in?? Daym ody

Tho I like how he tries using open arms first, and then ruthlessness. He's kinda found a balance? I say kinda, 'cause he went hard on the ruthlessness, but since he sincerely tried to ask Poseidon to just drop the whole thing already, his later actions in 600 Strike feel more warranted.

I honestly don't know how Jorge keeps doing it. He just keeps topping himself! Like! Thunder Bringer? And then God Games?? And now Six Hundred Strike??? They just keep getting better! Banger after banger, like!! How.

Wait I just wanna. Sit with it. Imma lie down and stare at the ceiling for a bit, aight?

... I am shooketh.

But BRO THAT WAS INSANE! ODY FUCKED HIM UPPP

AMAZING BRAVO EXTRODINARY INCREDIBLE SHOWSTOPPING GORGEOUS WONDERFUL HOW DARE YOU

[brokendreamscreation-moved]

💯 that’s them!! 🤣

[brokendreamscreation-moved]

@voodoodaaddy liked for a Lil Lucid verse starter!)

When a tree falls in the forest, does it make a sound? Only the trees know.

When a baby angel tumbles out of a portal he accidentally teleported himself through, does he make a sound? Yes. Yes he does.

Laid flat on his belly from the short fall, Lil Lucid’s eyes filled with starry tears. His soft white-gold downy wings folded as the baby began to wail. It was easy for any tenant in the hotel to hear.

[j-enga]

so recently I started listening to music with rain ambience while I sleep, it works a little but the glaring issue is I don't have YouTube premium so occasionally while I'm lying in bed Ill get an add for apple bees or some shit. But then last night happened I had just reached that lucid state as you start to fall asleep and right before I think I'm gonna conk out I get an ad promoting the release of the Across the Spider Verse soundtrack and all I hear while laying their in the dark is the Spider-Man 2099 theme blare in my ear, I damn near shat myself thought I was about to experience my canon event.

This is basically an artistic rendition of how that night went so you too can see the dread that washed over my entire body.

long story short I was 90% sure I was about to get my ass folded like a long chair by some a vampiric spider from another dimension that night.

[brokendreamscreation]

Lil Lucid Verse

Chirping, the little cherub flutters his golden downy wings. Cheeks puffed and brow knitted, Lil Lucid pouts with growing frustration. He’s hungry! If no one answers his chirps, surely wailing would commence.

[lucid-daydreaming-art]

intro post whoopee!!!

hi guys im lucid :D you can also call me daylin i don’t really care but i may be like woah how do you know my name (i will forget about making this post 2 seconds after posting it) also I AM AN ADULT im 23 and i do not use pronouns just use my name pleaseeeeeee if you have a disability that makes words hard to process i understand if that’s difficult you can just use they/them instead

first off just getting this out there if youre proship, zoo, pedo, incest supporter, endo system supporter, any kind of discriminatory against protected minority groups, and anti-otherkin, shoo. dont want you here youre not welcome. bye bye my content isnt for you.

immmmm an infp-t 4w5 sanguine-melancholic existential-intrapersonal-visual learner seer of heart prospit dreamer true neutral rogue shifter airbender and dragon type trainer for all you personality label freaks

i like to DRAW!!!!! this is an art blog!!!! i will only post art here, all of my reblogs will be on @trickstergemini save for the posts my close friends make that i want to support here. sometimes i will post just text but thats only if i really need to let you guys known something or im answering a question

my commissions are OPEN!!!!!!!! dm me for commission info im too lazy and busy to make a sheet

if my requests are closed that means theyre closed dont ask me to draw shit please and thank you

im AUTISTIC i am on that mf spectrum been diagnosed since i was three. for me this means im not naturally fluent in social norms or what’s expected from an interaction or how to read others very well. i also have heavy special interests and find it really hard to turn the conversation away from something im fixating on or specially interested in. i also have extremeeeee sensory issues and a hard time being completely flexible when im comfortable in a routine so just be patient with me man adjustments are hard for me. my empathy is also extremely low and im a really really high masking person so if i come off as well versed or allistic just know that i either took a million years to format the right way to say things or i am entirely going off a predetermined script and will fumble if caught off guard. other important stuff ive got adhd bpd cptsd and major depressive disorder which all those combined makes me really flaky when it comes to responding or follow through. i may not reply to you for like 500 years or maybe i will be gods speediest most motivated soldier. just don’t expect me to be a readily available fully capable robot ok?? ok.

uuueeehhhmmm my special interests are pokemon, homestuck, geography, taxonomy, my ocs, ikea, and personality psychology. i guess i also am specially interested in dragons because i like and think about them more than all of the above and have to incorporate them into everything but its less of an ill infodump to you interest and more of an i want to be surrounded by this thing because it brings me extreme comfort because it feels like me.

i am otherkin im a dragon and i look like this:

i will also represent myself like this if im feeling it:

yes i know i am not actually a physical dragon and im not a spiritual kinner i kin for identity purposes and the fact that i feel some pretty intense crippling species dysphoria idk ive been like this since i was 5 i don’t really have memories of my life where i wasnt experiencing animalistic behaviors and instincts

my favorite music artists are s3rl twenty øne piløts onerepublic imagine dragons of monsters and men thefatrat glass animals ajr the living tombstone romanceplanet basshunter italobrothers nine inch nails and muse my favorite medias are the httyd movies pokemon homestuck rick and morty invader zim our flag means death infinity train gravity falls rosencrantz and guildenstern are dead doctor who my little pony fim dont starve and the mcelroy brothers content

heres some more characters i represent myself as:

ok BYE

[sunflower-ozzy-online]

Heat in a Cold Bed

Your heat starts, and you feel the absence of Halsin.

9th chapter - Masterlist

Halsin /Reader

Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamic - Alpha/Omega - Omega Verse - Reader-Insert - Smut - Vaginal Fingering - Masturbation

You slept soundly wrapped in the blanket and clutching the pillow Halsin had scented for you. You decided not to wear the sleep shirt and save it for when your heat actually started. His scent gently rocked you into a deep sleep.

You awoke with your head full of cotton, making it hard to fully open your eyes. Being in a room with no windows meant there was no indication of what time it was. But considering how exhausted you felt, you couldn't have been asleep for very long. Apparently at some point in the night you had kicked the covers off. You shifted slightly to grab the covers, and then felt something wet. You braved looking down and saw your pajamas were drenched. The sticky sensation between your thighs only reconfirmed that you had started your heat.

You laid back with a groan quickly shedding the soaked undergarments from your lower half. You carefully placed them on the ground trying not to get your slick everywhere just yet. Standing up, you put on new underwear and loose fitting pants. In the few hours you had before your heat completely overtook your mind, you knew you needed to alert the medical staff.

You walked bow legged towards the door to slowly crack open the door. The coast was clear for now, meaning you might be able to make it to the medical area unnoticed by others. Slowly you slinked down the hall, until you made it to the open door leading to the medical area. Poking your head into the room you saw a small figure. It seemed Nettie was still there, or perhaps had come in early? You whisper yelled her name to try and get her attention. It took a couple times but eventually she turned towards you.

Obviously you were worse off than you had originally thought seeing as she rushed over and frantically escorted you back to your room. As she sat you down on your bed, she looked deep into your eyes to ensure you were still lucid and paying attention.

“It’s best you stay behind this door for now, I will enchant it so that only myself and anyone else with permission can enter.” She then placed a long whistle in your hand, the coolness of the metal felt soothing in your clammy hand. “If you blow this someone will come to your assistance, always bringing water and snacks no matter what. It's important to not let yourself get dehydrated.”

You nodded your head as she explained what type of food options they would have for you.

“Are you going to tell Halsin?” you asked, starting to get a little teary that he wasn’t there with you.

“I will update him when he wakes up in the morning.”

“I don't wanna go through this without him.”

She tried to contain her interest in your newly developed romance as she placed a hand on yours sympathetically.

The small contact had you almost panting, she pulled her hand away and left. You saw the light of the spell being cast from the other side of the door. At least you knew that you were in safe hands here, seeing the care Nettie took to protect you from others coming in without your consent.

Covering your face in the crook of your elbow you take your dominant hand and let it travel down your body. Pushing up your shirt you gently caress your tender breasts, noticing how sensitive you were as the simple touch shot down to your clit. Letting out small moans you continued to pay attention to your aching breasts, circling your nipples with your fingertips and gently pulling at them to tease yourself.

Continuing down your body finally you dipped your hand into your waistband. When you felt how slick you had become you kept yourself from grimacing, instead imagining how Halsin would relish in how you felt.

Thinking of him you continued down letting your fingers graze across your clit, you gasped at the slight contact. It had been so long since your last heat, you had forgotten how sensitive you could be. You slid your fingers down further to dip slightly into your folds to collect some of the slick that had gathered there. Bringing it back up your clit you began to rub small circles around yourself allowing wanton moans escape. Your pleasure started to rise and you continued your movements.

Slowly you straightened your legs and you removed your arm from your face to remove the clothes sticking to your lower half throwing them haphazardly across the room. You felt as though you had turned to mush. As you took your hand and continue rubbing circles, your heartbeat rose and began pounding, reverberating throughout your whole body. Your other hand went to start teasing your opening.

After thoroughly working yourself open, you finally sank two fingers into yourself. Gasping, you pulled them out and thrusted them back in, clenching around yourself at the welcome intrusion. The awkward position you were in was soon forgotten as your movements intensified, sensitivity had you approaching your climax faster than usual due to your heat.

Panting, you started thrusting a little bit faster and curled your finger trying to find your g-spot. After a few tries your fingertips grazed the spongy area and you let out a small shriek clenching your feet as white-hot pleasure rushed through you.

You kept going at a steady pace, focused on the growing feeling in your core, and you let your eyes roll back, while higher pitched moans escaped as the pressure built. Your mind wandered to Halsin and how much better it would feel if it were his thick long fingers instead. No doubt he would be able to reach depths you couldn’t imagine. The strength of his forearms would let him curve into you for hours letting you reach more climaxes than you could fathom.

Picturing his focused face as he tries to pleasure you allows you to finally reach your peak. Your fingers squeezed while your legs shook and head buzzed. Release had never felt so sweet, evident by the way even your vision had blurred. You pulled your hands away from yourself and tried to focus on your breathing as you came down.

Tears flowed down your face as the feeling of loneliness set in. Pulling the blanket around yourself, you were determined to go back to sleep before your heat fully took over.

Previous

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Masterlist

[nyhti]

I feel like Jervis and Hugo would make each other normal (they would literally make each other so much worse)

I'm literally writing a fic right now about them making each other normal (worse). They would fuel each other's fucked up kinks <3 But honestly, at the same time they would make each other better in some ways as well. I love that cute shit <33

And this is where I could have ended this response, but because I love these two so much and think about them all the time, I wrote all this:

It depends on the writer just how ”aware” Jervis is. Some writers like to write him permanently stuck in Wonderland and in some versions (mostly Pre-Crisis) it's like he's never even been there. I prefer the versions somewhere in between; the ones where he's lucid most of the time, but slips back into Wonderland under stress. And I especially like the versions where, at times, it is unclear whether he is actually in Wonderland or just faking it to get out off a situation (think Gotham Central #19-22).

I'm saying all this, because Jervis' awareness is very key to how I write this relationship. Aside from those moments when he is genuinely in Wonderland and genuinely disconnected from reality, he is very aware and has a very keen eye in my verse. This comes from the whole hypnotist and general Mind Games World Champion thing. I think as a hypnotist Jervis needs to be very good at reading people to know exactly what to say and do to put people under his spell. And given that he is an expert in mind games himself, it is impossible to play mind games with him. In general, I love the contradiction of a character who pretends to not even be here mentally most of the time, being actually incredibly keen eyed, smart and fucking with people's heads. They think he's lost his mind, but they're the ones who are about to lose their minds. He might seem like he doesn't understand what's going on at all, and sometimes that really is the case, but most of the time he knows exactly what's happening – even better than most people.

How this relates to Hugo is that he basically has immunity to Hugo's bullshit. You cannot play mind games with him, because he knows every trick in the book. He was there when mind games were invented. My Jervis is like a human lie detector, if lie detectors actually worked and Hugo, as we know, is a big fat liar. I love it, I love it, I love it. Hugo cannot stop lying, it's so second nature to him that he lies even when he doesn't necessarily need to and every time, every time Jervis catches him on it. This is where it's at for me. Hugo has been Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlbossing his way though life for 52 years and suddenly there's this 150cm tall 48-year-old man who finally tells him to shut the fuck up. I love it. Immovable object, unstoppable force. I love it.

I just love the frustration that it ignites in Hugo when he cannot lie to get what he wants, when someone is forcing him to be genuine for the first time in over 50 years. I think it would remind Hugo of being young. See, he wasn't born a Girlboss, he had to learn how to Gaslight, how to Gatekeep. He was always shitty and was trying to manipulate and control others from a young age, but it was hard. He made mistakes and things didn't always work out and it left him frustrated. And it's all happening again now, his bullshit doesn't work on Jervis and it makes him feel frustrated, angry and finally depressed. But ultimately, it is all for the better.

I think it's evident reading Pre-Crisis Hugo issues, that he wanted people around him and not just as his little minions that he would dispose of when they weren't of use to him anymore. He has those too, of course, but I'm saying he wouldn't have made sure Magda wasn't defenseless if worse came to pass, had he not truly cared for her, he wouldn't have healed Bruce's wounds and ”died” to protect his secret, had he not cared for him. He wanted people around him and he deeply cared for the few people he was close with. All of his relationships are fucked up, because he is fucked up, but it is clear to me that this man both wanted to love others and was capable of loving others.

He wants people around, but I think it's very difficult for him to let anyone that close. Even though in my verse Jervis is the one person next to Batman (and mayyyybe Joker) that he respects, I don't think that he would ever even consider letting Jervis close, letting Jervis see behind the lies. But that's just the thing, Jervis saw thought them anyway. It was like he was forced to let Jervis close, because he couldn't keep him away. And as stated, it makes him frustrated, angry and even depressed, but ultimately, it is for the better. It does him good to be genuine around someone for once. To stop lying for two seconds and just be himself. It does actually make him more normal.

For example, if Hugo was upset over something, his first response would be to lie that he wasn't, as to not seem weak. Think of when Thorne had him kidnapped and beaten by thugs and Hugo was still going on about how: ”Threats mean nothing to Hugo Strange! You mean nothing to Hugo Strange!” Yet, after he had faked his death, he spent so much time and effort on getting his revenge on Thorne – TWICE. This man had to avenge what he suffered in Thorne's hands TWICE. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure the torture did mean something to Hugo Strange. Plus, we have seen countless times the way he responds to his plans not working out: faking his own death. Seriously, the tiniest thing goes wrong and he's out there faking his death again. This man CANNOT handle setbacks.

Imagine now if Jervis caught him on that first lie, when he pretends to not be upset. Imagine he was forced to face the fact that he very much is upset. Imagine he had go through that emotion, instead of running away from it (to his ”grave”). If he actually sat through that emotion, he would find it isn't the end. It wasn't that bad. Life goes on. Jervis could never fix him, but I do think that he could make him more normal.

And what does Jervis get out of all this? Well, he gets to play with Hugo's nice round ass <3