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barelylivingscholar · 1 month

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Arlecchino, with a daughter pt.4

An: The long awaited update... Babes, medical school was breathing down on my neck so I had to count tears on a bottle... (Drops per minute in IV) Luckily, I managed to get perfect marks regardless... 🥳 I'mma just give a lil bit of context in this latest installment: THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTINGGG 😊 I started hyperventilating... Pantalone gave a stern look towards the Knave, making the Knave glare back at him in response. "I think that's enough hounding my disciple for today..." Her eyes narrowed, replying, "What are your intentions by stealing my daughter away from me, Regrator...?" I couldn't look the two of them, my mind reeling on the fact that I am unable to move. I was stuck. Frozen. ̝̣͔̝̎̃̈́̾̈̇̓̑́͞ I͕̣͛̏ͨͦ̃ ̷͈͖̊͋̉̀T̉ͣ̾́̋ͩ͏̧̫̦̥͙͖̭̳̥̝͇͚ͬ̈͝R̈́̐̽͡͏̠̫̝̣͔̝͎̎̃̈́̾̈̇̓̑́͞I͕̣̖̦͕̬͔̹͛̏ͨͦ̃͌̓E̢̤͙̰̖̘̣͕̰̦̦̠ͫͪͩͧ̋ͭͯ̇͢D̦̿ͮ ̷͈͖̊͋̉̀T̉ͣ̾́̋ͩ͏̸̸̧̫̦̥͙̖͙͇͙͉̯̞̦ͥ̉͒̌͌̒͟Ọ̥ͫ̌͟ͅ ̴̰̦̗̤͍̈́̿͡Ǧ͚̗̜̬̤̺̼̖̦͕̬͔̹͌̓͟͝͞E̷̤͙̰̖̘̣͕̰͈͖ͫͪ̊͋̉̀͢T̉ͣ̾́̋ͩ͏̧̫̦̥͙ A̸̟̤̖̗͈̦͔̮̻͔͍̘͐̒̇ͩ͋̃̾̇͒ͨͤ̐ͬ̓̽̊̕W̧͍̫̔ͧ͐͆̌̈́ͪ͌A̟̤̖̗͈̦͔̮͔̗͇̪̩̖̖͐̒̇ͩ͋̃̾̇̍̅̌͒ͬ̈́́̕͢Ỷ̢̱̭͋̌̃ͨͬ͐͟͡ ̴͚̫̲̳͚͈̭̊̄̆̐̌͜ͅͅFͮ͗͑̈́ͦ̑͏͖̺̱̻͖̭̳̥̝͇͚ͬ̈͡͝R̈́̐̽͡͏̸̸̠̫̖͙͇͙͉̯̞̦ͥ̉͒̌͌̒͟Ọ̡̥̬ͫ̌̃̔̂͟͢͝ͅM̻̯̔ͤ͑̐̇̈̎̉́ ͔̗͇̪̩̖̖̍̅̌͒ͬ̈́́͢Ỷ̸̸̢̱̭̖͙͇͙͉̯̞̦͋̌̃ͨͬ͐ͥ̉͒̌͌̒͟͟͡Ọ̥ͫ̌̾̍ͨ͐ͤ̚͟ͅ͏͏̷̝̪̫̪͈͍̱̣Ū͉̭̬̩̀̒̌ͮ͐, ͔̗͇̪̩̖̖̍̅̌͒ͬ̈́́͢Ỷ̢̱̭̖̦͕̬͔̹͋̌̃ͨͬ͐͌̓͟͡E̷̤͙̰̖̘̣͕̰͈͖ͫͪ̊͋̉̀͢T̉ͣ̾́̋ͩ͏̧̫̦̥͙ ͔̗͇̪̩̖̖̍̅̌͒ͬ̈́́͢Ỷ̸̸̢̱̭̖͙͇͙͉̯̞̦͋̌̃ͨͬ͐ͥ̉͒̌͌̒͟͟͡Ọ̥ͫ̌̾̍ͨ͐ͤ̚͟ͅ͏͏̷̝̪̫̪͈͍̱̣Ū͉̭̬̩̀̒̌ͮ͐ ̷̦̫̟͓̝̣͙̞͓͂̈́ͯ̌͡S̷̛͇͉͈͈͖ͥ͊̉̄̾̊͋̉̀͜͡T̉ͣ̾́̋ͩ͏̧̫̦̥͙̝̣͔̝͎̎̃̈́̾̈̇̓̑́͞I͕̣̥̘͛̏ͨͦ̃ͭ͠L̏ͦ̀ͯͨ͋͟͏̣̪̥̘ͭ͘͠L̏ͦ̀ͯͨ͋͟͏̣̪͘ ̬̱̣̠͔͌̑͗́K̥̹̳̖̭̖̝͎̖̦͕̬͔̹ͯ̒̆͛̍͐ͣ͌̓E̤͙̰̖̘̣͕̰̹͈͎̜̟̯̺ͫͪ͊̿̋́̋ͪͩ̉̚͢͢P̷̯̜͈͖̑̊̀̿̊͋̉̀ͅT̉ͣ̾́̋ͩ͏̧̫̦̥͙ ̹͈͎̜̟̯̺͊̿̋́̋ͪͩ̉̚͢P̯̜̖̦͕̬͔̹̑̊̀̿͌̓ͅE̤͙̰̖̘̣͕̰͖̭̳̥̝͇͚ͫͪͬ̈͢͝R̈́̐̽͡͏̷̠̫̦̫̟͓̝̣͙̞͓͂̈́ͯ̌͡S̛͇͉͈̝̣͔̝͎ͥ͊̉̄̾̎̃̈́̾̈̇̓̑́͜͡͞I̷͕̣̦̫̟͓̝̣͙̞͓͛̏ͨͦ̃͂̈́ͯ̌͡S̷̛͇͉͈͈͖ͥ͊̉̄̾̊͋̉̀͜͡T̉ͣ̾́̋ͩ͏̧̫̦̥͙̝̣͔̝͎̎̃̈́̾̈̇̓̑́͞I͕̣̰͎̰͛̏ͨͦ̃͗ͩ̌̽̿̎̂N̴͚̘̖̻̰̦̗̤͍̓́̈́̿͡Ǧ͚̗̜̬̤̺̼͟͝͞... Both Pantalone and the Knave kept throwing jabs at one another, critical of one another's actions. The door had opened. It was Signora. A frequent visitor of the Hearth, she was someone who I enjoy spending time with during my time here... It was only because I wanted to get away from HER. She walked right in, staking her claim on me without saying anything, and had taken me away from both of them. They could only stare as Signora guided me away from them. But as soon as Signora and I was far away from the Knave's office, Signora wordlessly hands me a treat. I just learned to accept her offerings, as she had once told many of us that those who dislike her wouldn't receive any "gifts" from her... Even without the gifts, I still liked her company. After all, she was only just a woman who had been lonely for many decades... Signora stares at the child reading the book she carefully picked out for her, studying the young girl carefully, as she drinks her tea in order to hide her growing smile at the sight of the little girl's enjoyment.. She quickly learned that the child was not tempted by the gifts she showered her when she had visited the Hearth subsequently. She can tell by the way they stuck around, happy to sit in silence, and how the girl was relaxed around her presence rather than the Knave... She held no ill feelings towards the Knave, but she thinks, that she is the best candidate to satisfy the child's needs much better than anyone, not even the Knave herself... "How come that you are now under Pantalone's wing, child?" I paused reading and shortly responded. "I became his disciple." "So, you were the one being talked about by the Mayor and Zandik, huh..." I stiffened at the mention of the Doctor's name. Gauging my reaction, she added, "Both Pantalone and Zandik work closely together. Have you ever met Zandik before, child?" I shook my head. "No. I don't plan on meeting him, ever." Signora laughs. "Good. But if ever Pantalone decides on letting you meet Zandik... Come to me, and I will protect you from any harm to come upon you... It is even surprising, that he was the one who ended up becoming your guardian." She huffed, unable to mask her annoyance at Pantalone. "He isn't even considered a candidate, in being the most likely to take good care of you, child."

I was amused at her words, hearing her talk about my mentor is funny. The way she questions the ability of Pantalone's ability to take care of me made me chuckle. She heard the sound of my laughter and reached out to comb my hair with her fingers affectionately. Making me blink at her slowly. She sighs, opting to pat my head. "Dear, did he force you to dress similarly as well? It doesn't suit you. What suits you is a nice, warm coat, and jewelries that compliments your eyes well..." I stifled another laugh threatening to come out of my throat. Her eyes softened eventually as she ran out of things to say towards my mentor... "I decided to match his wear so people are able to tell that I am his disciple." Her hands gently reached to my coat, fixing it for me as it was loosened. "My dear... Surely you can distinguish yourself as your own person. Aren't you dependent a bit too much on Pantalone?" She then proclaimed, "As your other guardian, I am making sure you don't turn into another copy of that greedy businessman." "I promise not to become another copy of Pantalone." I pledged, making Signora laugh in return. After her laughter died down, she stood up, offering a hand. "If you find yourself unable to break free from the identity that both the Knave and Regrator had given you, you are free to come to me, and I'll see to it that you are not burdened by any of their actions." I thanked her in return and assured her that I'll turn to her for help if it happens. I could tell that she was hesitant to leave me here, as she saw the display earlier, she probably saw how shaken up I was returning to this place. So, I end up saying something. "I'll be okay. I'll visit you if I'm not too busy..." "Is the little girl all grown up now...? My, how time flies so fast." She teased lightly, making me huff. "Hmph. I can work too..." She reacts to it as if she finds it hard to believe... Making me pout. Signora then hugs me so sudden, that I was not able to register it. When was the last time I was ever given a hug? I don't remember. I clung to her a bit tight, but she paid no mind to it. We pull away, and finally parted ways.

A fatui messenger had approached me, giving me a letter from the Mayor. It reads. I heard from the others about the encounter you had with the Knave. You and I both know that she won't stop at nothing from attempting to get you back. If you feel unsafe or being watched, feel free to come in my territory so I may provide you with protection. And if Regrator decides to dispose of you, the same thing is being offered. But I only ask in return that you do not attempt to work too much. I'm afraid that you're growing too fast... And that your growth will be stunted as well... Be sure to take breaks, and have a full 9 hours of sleep to supplement your body. I've heard plenty that you do not seem to take good care of yourself. The Regrator have seemed to influenced you. Has the Regrator been giving you a hard time lately? It won't do. I will have a word with him in regards to your work schedule. I'll see to it that you are still able to enjoy the sun after working. Don't be shy to reach out to me if Regrator has been giving you a hard time. As always, you are free to come in my territory for a chat, or to stay. Take care of yourself, and be vigilant towards the Knave. Sincerely, Pulcinella.

I finished reading the letter, happy at the fact that I am desired by the Mayor and The fair lady as well. I'll keep that in mind. As I walked back to the House of the Hearth... I see Pantalone outside. I approached him. "Did the Knave do anything you?" He replied, "No. We only argued. But went back to business after exchanging words." I sighed in relief. "Can we go back to base now?" "Wait. The Knave has a few words to say to you." My eyes widened. What does she want from me now...? Extra an: Child custody battle...? 🤨

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roach-works · 11 months

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weird realization of the night that most of you people following me can't have any idea of who i actually am because i share information about myself very infrequently and only when i want to make a point about something else. but also ive been on tumblr for more than a decade so i just assume im like... part of the neighborhood. like a raccoon in the trash. i live here. you know me.

but in case you don't hi im roach im in my thirties and i used to be a queer girl illustrator and now im a queer man working in manufacturing and ive had adhd this whole time and i used to write a lot of weird filthy fanfic and now im working on mostly original romance and erotica these days (if you like gay post-apocalyptic sci fi please check out Stories Of The Michigan Fleet).

i live in the american midwest at the moment but im probably going to spend the winter in oregon with my family. my current hobby is quilting but im intending to get back into drawing eventually, so stay tuned for a side blog. ive been called everything from a terf to a self-hating homophobic lesbian separatist, so if you see people being mean to me online feel free to make up some even better accusations. i faked the moon landing, personally, by the way. took about a week in 2014.

i like answering asks but im not very prompt or polite, so i don't get too many. feel free to say hi, tho.

#roach's kawaii life

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weixuldo · 11 months

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Allow me// ch 8

Vader x Reader

a/n: so sorry for the wait on this chapter- ive been on vacation this past week oops! But never the less, HERE IT IS!! hehe just a reminder, Vader has become more vulnerable with his emotions in his older age (just as he began to open up to luke in rotj) so if he seems too “kind” or “emotional”, that’s why. I hope that doesn’t ruin him for u :( but trust- he will have some iconic Vader moments later on in the series....

You get a strange visitor looking for some comfort.

warnings: cursing, anxiety, self hatred/loathing, cannon disabled character, emotional vulnerability

_____________________

Your admission to Lord Vader came as a relief; he held out a small shred of hope that you would accept his offer, but he wasn't too sold on the fact that you would actually agree. So when you did, his heart fluttered.

In the weeks following the encounter, he became much more present in your daily life.

Before the standard day started you would often wander into his quarters and feel out his location throughout the force (though you knew he was intentionally putting out a special signal just for you).

After shifts were done you would have debriefing chats with him, which mainly consisted of random conversations and his adorably flustered comments about or to you.

In your earlier days of working for the sith, you always assumed he was busy every minute of the day; he always seemed in a hurry when he strutted down the cold halls.

But as he dedicated more and more time to you, you found that it wasn’t the case.

Yes, he did have a great many things to do, but he was quite proficient at his job; after all, he had been doing it for over a decade.

Anyways, who would dare attempt to question him about his whereabouts other than the emperor?

No one.

He was one of the two most feared men in the galaxy- he would be just fine if someone noticed him spending more time with the mechanic than usual.

In the more recent days he had been inviting you to join him in his meditation chamber for some peaceful time away from curious workers.

You would enter the chamber as if you were going to work on his pod but you would actually just wait until he came in a while later.

The pod was small and truly only built to accommodate his large frame, so when you were there he would take a seat then call for you to climb onto his lap.

Once you were settled he motioned for the chamber to close so the only thing to focus on were the two of you in the small capsule.

Once you were in there it seemed much more spacious than the outside portrayed, his seat was soft and so were his thighs (apparently, they were one of the only parts of him that was left human).

You would sit in his lap and rest your head on his chest or straddle his lap to speak with him face to face (or…rather face to helmet).

Though you had basically proclaimed yourself to the Sith and spent a multitude of time with the man, you never were awarded the gift of seeing his uncovered face.

It wasn’t for your lack of trying, but most times he would respectfully decline or attempt to divert your attention.

__________________

Today Vader had been pretty busy, so after your shift you just went back to your chambers and got ready for bed.

You drifted in and out of sleep for a few hours until you heard a knock at your door.

Who could that be? It was the middle of the night.

The tile was cool beneath your feet as you gathered a blanket around your shoulders and headed for the door. You clicked on a lamp that lit the room with a warm glow.

You were barely to the door when it swooshed open to reveal a familiar figure; you tilted your head to the side with a confused look.

“Vader?”

He looked down and asked “may I come in?”.

You nodded, allowing him to enter and closing your door, “Is something wrong?” you asked, thinking something needed fixing.

“No, no. Everything is alright. I just wanted to see you” he admitted, standing awkwardly in the middle of your room.

Your shoulders relaxed when you realized it wasn’t an emergency and you smiled, “well here I am! it’s nice to see you, i missed you today ”.

You walked to your bed and patted the space beside you; he sat next to you but continued to look forward.

“Are you sure everything is alright?”.

He sighed, “It’s my master. He is asking me to have an audience with him tomorrow”.

Your brows furrowed, didn’t they meet often? Why was this perplexing him so much?

“What's so bad about that?” you asked innocently.

“He thinks I have made a mistake. I worked with an enemy- well, not really an enemy, just someone who isn’t on the empire’s side” he explained, resting his head in his hands.

You rubbed his back and decided it best not to pry, “I’m sorry Vader, Is there anything I can do?”.

He was thankful you didn’t ask details- you comforted him so well.

If he were to explain why teaming up with Sabe was so problematic he would have to explain who Sabe was to Padme and why Padme was important.

The stress of facing his master tomorrow was far too taxing to also reveal his past to you; he couldn’t do that tonight.

“No, but I appreciate the offer,” he said.

Silently, you knelt on your bed and wrapped your arms around him, holding him close in your warm embrace. No words were exchanged, yet you could feel his exhausted relief from your touch.

You opted to rest your head on his shoulder as you rubbed your thumb over his bicep. His heart cried as you held onto him- he hadn’t felt this safe in years; he didn’t want you to let go. He reached for your free hand and held it tight.

“Thank you, y/n” he said as you sat back and he finally faced you.

The blanket had fallen from your shoulders and your sage green nightgown was now visible; it wasn’t scandalous or anything crazy, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Your beauty was eminent and demanded his attention.

“It’s alright, Vader. I just want you to be ok” you spoke.

His heart yearned for you and the love he knew you would give, but how could he have you when being with him would just put you in danger?

“I haven't felt that in so long…” he trailed off.

What hadn’t he felt? You became confused by his words.

He turned to look into your eyes, “I haven’t felt cared for. Truly cared for”.

His voice wavered and you gave him a sad smile before resting a gentle hand on the side of his helmet.

“I do care.. So, so much”

His breathing filled the otherwise silent room as he placed a gloved hand over yours.

“I know you do”

You looked over at your clock and it was in the early hours of the morning now, you were tired and he probably was too.

“It’s late. Why don’t you stay for a while? We can lay down.” you offered, reclining on your bed.

Any other night he would have politely declined, not wanting to get more attached than he already was, but tonight he needed someone.

Without hesitation he agreed and took his place beside you in your large bed (another perk of being Darth Vader’s personal mechanic, you got an upgraded room).

He grunted as he laid down, his armor poking into his body irritably.

You gently tapped his shoulder and offered him a solution to make him more comfortable, “Why don’t we take some of your armor off? Wearing that can’t be pleasant”.

He agreed and allowed you to help him unlatch his stiff guarding. Once it was all off, he laid on his back and you scooted closer to him and laid your head on his chest above his chest box.

“Vader- will I ever see your face?” you asked out of the blue after a few minutes of lying with the Sith.

You felt him shift under you, “Why would you want to see that?” he sounded genuinely confused.

You gazed up at him, “because, I want to appreciate your beauty. ”

“There is nothing beautiful under this mask, I assure you. You are all the beauty we need here” he said, lying his head back down.

“Plus you already see me.”

You frowned, of course you heard the stories of vader being more machine than man, but you didn’t care.

“I see your suit- the same suit everyone else sees. I want to see you, I want to see the man who shares these tender moments with me” you cooed , running your hand along his side.

“I am sure if you see my face, you will no longer wish to… be mine”

A bittersweet feeling washed over you: it was such a rush to hear him refer to you as “his”, but at the same time it pained you that he was so ashamed of his physical appearance that he would shield himself from everyone…including you.

“Alright, I won't keep pressuring you… I just want you to know, I would never leave you”.

At that, you could sense the smile that adorned his covered face.

You and Vader stayed like that for a while, just discussing random things that came to mind until you got on the topic of first impressions.

“As soon as I saw you I was intrigued. I could assess the physical beauty but once I found you in the hallway after your mother passed, I really saw you as another individual- not just another worker.” (Vader went on to apologize for his close minded opinions of average imperial officers).

“Huh? When I first started seeing you around, I thought you were going to kill me” you said to him as you ran your hand along his chest.

“What?” he asked, worriedly.

You sat up and tilted your head.

“Back when I had that spat with the trooper outside of your meditation chamber all that time ago. You killed them later that night- I heard it.”

“I knew I sensed you,” he said to himself.

“Yea, I couldn’t sleep, then I saw that and headed back to my room. I was sure you were going to kill me because the rumors were associating me with you.”

He tilted his head and his tone became more serious.

“I killed those troopers because they were harassing you and spreading false information, they did not deserve to be on my ship.”

“You probably could have just had them transferred. What made you angry enough to kill them though?”

“They disrespected me and they disrespected you. I could not have that. They were not even worthy of speaking your name.” he spoke with such a passion… you hadn’t seen him like this before.

Vader seemed genuinely upset that they had been bothering you for so long.

“It was alright, nothing I haven’t heard before” you offered

He turned his head towards you with an unreadable look, “as long as you are with me, acts such as those will not go unpunished”.

He was serious.

“Vader, it is alright, they’re just scummy people anyway-”

He gently took your hands into his and looked into your eyes, “That is not alright. Allow me to do these things for you. Allow me to protect you”.

Maker, he really did care about you.

You offered a small smile, “I will allow it, only because it was you that asked”.

He seemed to relax at your blessing.

“But I want you to know I don’t need protection, I’m a big girl, I can handle myself” you joked which garnered a smile from the man beside you under his helmet.

“Of course, my dear” he confirmed as he gently brushed his thumb over your cheek.

Never in a million years would Vader have thought that he could be this intimate with someone again; only a few years ago he would have laughed in your face if you told him he would be able to feel this way again.

His past haunted him in his early years of his time as a Sith, which made him cold and ruthless.

But as the years went by and he grew older he became a little less harsh (though he would never admit it).

Maybe he missed feeling wanted or appreciated or maybe it was because he genuinely wanted you- after all, he couldn’t imagine feeling this way for anyone else he had met as Vader.

On the other side of things you never imagined that the feared Sith could be so gentle and kind.

He was still an intimidating figure, but you felt so safe with him- so cared for.

His emotions were so strong that you trusted he would do what he said he would.

You wanted him to know that you were here out of genuine interest, not a scheme to access his power or to use him… you could imagine others in the past had attempted to cultivate meaningless relationships with the agenda of abusing his influence.

“V” you called, shortening his name.

You turned your head to look his way but found him already gazing at your beautiful face.

“V?” he asked.

A blush crept up your cheeks and you shyly smiled, “Yea, it's an endearment, is it alright?”.

“It is quite alright” he confirmed, which brought a smile to your face.

“Alright” you smiled

“I just wanted to let you know…” you trailed off as you traced your fingers down his chest and around his chest box.

“I am here because I care for you deeply- I have no other motives other than the own interests of my heart.”

You paused for a moment and he sat there bewildered at your bluntly honest statement.

“I want to see you, V” you said softly, looking into his lenses.

“I do not want to burden your beautiful eyes with my hideous face”.

Your heart fell, “You are not hideous, there is no possible way…” you said, hoping to reassure the man.

“My dear, you have no idea what you would be seeing,” he said sadly.

“But I do- I would be seeing the face of a man who has shown me nothing but kindness, the man who has looked out for me when no one else would, the man who sees himself in me”.

With a brush of your hand against his chest and your endearing words, something in the Sith caved. How could he keep denying you?

Eventually you would see him, being his personal mechanic and all, so why not just rip the bandaid off now?

He sighed and nodded his head, “Alright, but I cannot be without it for long- my lungs aren’t suited for it” he seemed almost embarrassed.

“I know your meditation chamber is pressurized, would that allow you to keep it off a little longer?” you asked, standing from the bed.

“Yes? But we cannot go there now, not like this” he motioned to your nightgown and his unarmored body.

“I wasn't suggesting that'' you laughed as you dug through your tool bag on the floor.

“What are you up to?” he inquired as you tinkered away at a switch near the door. Soon there was a noise that sounded like a vacuum seal.

A smile dawned your face as you looked up towards the vents and stood; you checked the screen near your bed and pointed towards it, “I was working on that”.

Vader looked at the stat’s screen and saw the air pressure level had increased.

“You did that just now?” he asked, amazed.

“Yes” you smiled, taking your spot back on the bed with him.

“I would go to extreme lengths to be able to bask in your presence” you said as dramatically as you could; a stupid grin plastered on your face as you awaited his response.

His head tilted to the side as he moved his hand to the side of your face, “I do not deserve your kindness, y/n.” he said sadly.

Cool air brushed against your cheek as he began to remove his hand, but before he left entirely, you placed your own hand over his and returned him to your cheek.

“You deserve every ounce,” you responded.

He exhaled and drew your hand to his chest.

“I will ask one final time, do you truly want to see me?” his voice wavered.

“Yes, I do”

“I understand if you wont want to hold this position anymore after this- But I just don’t want you to be afraid of me” he rambled.

“V, I never want to leave your side, you won’t scare me…I promise”

He relaxed at your words and nodded.

“Alright”.

***

a/n: lots of exposition… but he’s abt to take a huge step 😭 he’s whipped frrrr- also the bit abt sabe is a nod to what’s coming up soon (the thing about including the vader and palpating comic- cause the whole reason vader was punished was cause he helped Sabe) I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!

taglist: @vadersassistant @sxoulohvn @khaleesihavilliard @kashasenpai @darling-murdock @beautifulbearpolice @salvatoresister1 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @blueninjablade3 @jujuba096 @missmannequin @jellydodger @mirastark @wyvernthekriger @duckyhowls @monada43 @lauriidoesstuff @vienettacream @ray-rook @itswhatever06 @ilovenielperry

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sincerelyverena · 1 month

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Can you write for sub!Oliver? I'm so desperate seeing him squirming and whining😮‍💨

⟡⁺ RUN, BUNNY, RUN

oh hi guys its been a while ! never thought id manage to get this out but here it is, n i hope u all enjoy. ive missed each n every one of u (sorta) (joking). anyways im planning to lean in on the more multifandom aspect of my account, so youll be seeing a few different fandoms scattered around. nevertheless, give it a read! mybe itll be ur thing :] ty anon for this request, much love <3

. . . OLIVER QUICK X FEM!READER ‘beautiful, violent, vulgar.’ @ajs-222 @michael-loves-chickens @surazim @soocore @fedyascoffin

inbox is always open to requests!

in whichꕀ

✦ ﹒oliver got what he wanted at a price.

tagsꕀ

✦ ﹒smut ﹐sub!oliver﹐dom!reader ﹐y/n catton﹐reader is a cougar ﹐oliver just cant get enough﹐reader is implied to be a shorty ﹐elspeth is a hoe﹐cunnilingus ﹐degradation﹐orgasm denial﹐marking kink ﹐lowkey blackmail ﹐farleighs there too!

ON THE HUNT FOR BETA READERS! MSG ME <3

He reminded you of a bunny, an animal.

Oliver Quick was reticent compared to the hearty, high conversation around the table that night. He was stuck out like a sore thumb in contrast to the Cattons, a family line of the prestigious. High on the grace of themselves and each other. Blissfully unaware of anyone or anything past what they offer to their inflated egos. And who were you, to make such unprincipled claims against family? Against blood?

Mother – Elspeth, as she insists all the children call her – had always made snide, discreet digs at you. Shielded with a manipulative curl of the whoreish pinks of her lipstick. Underneath those sly comments is a white-hot grudge, directed toward her only daughter of blood and the Catton heiress everybody just seemed to have forgotten about.

‘You only think of yourself.’ She says.

‘You only believe you’re superior because you abandoned the only people who’ll ever care for you.’

But they never cared for you. Not in the slightest.

You were the only descendant of the new-age family line that didn’t reside under the roof of Saltburn, causing waves in the circles of old money when you took your trust fund (and dignity) in a single palm and vanished to New Mexico.

Nevertheless, to maintain access to the trust fund, you have been spending the entirety of every summer with your bloodline you inherently disowned. Money was the bottom line, the bottom line of every transaction you make with your parents. Which wasn’t a problem in the slightest, considering in their eyes, how much you were worth was the only thing cardinal about you.

You had stayed summers long enough to recognize the twisted, Catton-branded pattern your brother, Felix, had fallen into. In your eyes, he wasn’t fit to be claimed the bloodline heir. His blood is unsavory and debilitated. During the presidency of his birth, Elspeth had been participating in affairs with men who would’ve directly tainted both the reputation of the family name. As well as the bloodline.

The crimson redness of your dagger-shaped nails clinks along the side of the thin wineglass in your palm. Those morals of clean blood had been hammered into your head for decades, no matter how much your mother preached her modernized values.

Elspeth was still the same harlot she was all those years prior.

The exact reason why instead of disturbance, thinly veiled amusement is masked between your hues as you witnessed Elspeth’s conversation with Oliver. The wrinkle of her eye crinkled furthermore with maliciousness, masked with honeyed words. Oliver reacts in a manner especially foreign to you. The apples of his cheeks pinken as Elspeth momentarily offers a palm toward the muscle of his arm, a singular touch as Oliver’s lips clamped together. Unable to respond for a beat of a moment. The cogs behind Oliver’s eyes turn and work soundlessly, having to be coorused by Elspeth herself to respond.

Oliver was a stark difference from Felix’s past pets, brought to the household each summer for the entertainment of all. You observe him thoroughly, without shame. Nobody would question you anyway, especially the Catton children. The food chain of the bloodline stands unquestioned with Felix toppling all competition. But you were there first, and the force of that power still stands.

All that you knew was that Oliver would be at the very bottom. A stark, white rabbit amongst the lions and wolves. The sheep's clothing they wear? Deteriorated.

And you’d die for a chance to snap your jaws around his neck.

Even though you were barely a decade older compared to the other descendants of the Catton name, your tastes in sexuality had simmered. You have had your fair share of flings, basking in sensual attention like how your younger relatives are receiving nowadays.

You’ve made the stark assumption that only a few strains of men and woman could cause that familiar warmth to unfurl within the depths of her core. But you were solely mistaken, as the cobalt hues of Oliver Quick met yours. They withheld the sweetest traces of caramel that caused something to stir. Something that caused the top of your bare thighs to squeeze together absentmindedly.

Oliver’s once-pinkened cheeks redden once again. He was the first to look away.

Run, bunny, run. The words bounce around your skull aimlessly, as if the density of your head were hollow. Your only set intention was the young man across the cherry-wood table, and how your lips curl upward at the thought.

An unmistakable atmosphere of tension ridged itself between the two. Unmistakeable enough for Oliver to virtually scramble from his chair with a lowly hinged creak as soon as the black-tie dinner was to be dismissed, disappearing into the estate’s foyer without another word. In the process, silencing the remainder of the table as they escape the metaphorical weight of their chairs.

‘Someone had to go.’ Farleigh snarks, expression feigning boredom.

Elspeth offers a scoff in turn, though the weariness of her hues twinkle with stuffed amusement. ‘Don’t be silly, Farleigh.’

On the other hand, Felix’s brow wrinkles. You tune out the roar of masculine voices and a battle of ego as the two relatives bicker over the treatment of their guests. The hypocritical bounds and leaps of their voices were enough for your meal of fancy, fickle steak and fluffy, mashed potatoes to churn in your stomach.

As much as Felix preaches for his adoration of Oliver Quick, the entire household – even the thinness of the estate walls – knows that he’s only a temporary fix to his hunger for the disadvantaged. Viewing himself as a saint, veiling the sin that reverberated inside. Even Felix is willing to slip unsavory words about Oliver’s history before their friendship, especially his mother’s drug addiction.

You shortly realized you were the only one who hadn’t uttered a single word about Oliver. Yet, at least. You were the only person under the Catton's roof. You’ve maintained formality, and politeness in the scarce cases of passing the salt along the length of the table. But there was nothing polite in the way the relentless azure of his eyes bored into your own, obstructing every value and moral you’ve ever known.

They always said curiosity would eventually kill the cat. The claws of your nails threaten to dig into the hitch of your thigh, deep to the point of drawn blood.

You needed to know about him.

The soles of your crimson-sheathed heels click against the top of the blemishless floorings. The space between your shoulder blades bur without missing a beat, bound to be from the hawk-eyes of Elspeth Catton and her descendants that followed. Nevertheless, you push past the judgment and persevere forward toward the same foyer Oliver had vanished into.

The double-storied entrance room was as grand as the rest of the estate. Dark

strains of oak are the main attraction, revealing the old-money origins of Saltburn. Jars of incense sticks decorate the occasional corner, the passionate white musk filling the atmosphere, tickling the back of your throat as you inhale.

The peace-brimming silence is sliced with a stressed rummaging from the door placed offside, shielded behind the wood-trimmed stairway. You prided yourself on minding your own business, but you couldn’t help but shuffle a tad closer. Enough to catch a glimpse of a singular bead of light, trickling out of the gap the door had made.

You cursed the thrum of your heels as you ventured closer. Hand strained against the top of the engraved door, sending strained words to the universe as you threaten to inch it wider and wider open.

All that secrecy disappeared from your body at the sight of Oliver Quick. It took you a few, prolonged seconds to recognize the young man amid the shadows. The sight of his scruffy, pale knees pressed against the ground. A crown of wavy, brunette locks shielded the focused curve of his eye as he rummaged through something. You couldn’t help it, fingers curling to widen the door a little more.

Creak.

Nothing could prepare you for what you witnessed before you. Even the panicked alarm that flares in the cobalt of Oliver’s hues goes ignored as he virtually snaps his head toward you. Amid his hands, various Catton heirlooms have gone untouched. Useless to some, priceless to others, and you guessed Oliver had made his mark on that.

‘What in the world are you doing with Aunty Start’s Apollo earrings?’

The words escaped you in a rush. Who knew that that your snow-white, innocent bunny had nefarious means within the Catton family? You exaggerate aunty’s last name, a slight teetering edge of glee trickling into you at the sight of grieving recognition that filled Oliver’s eyes.

You stepped fully into the doorway.

‘I wonder what Farleigh would think about that.’

Oliver didn’t take the threat lightly, notable by the slight shake in his voice. “You wouldn’t.” He insisted. His hands scrambled, and the box propped between his fingers slipped and clattered across the oak of the storage room’s grounding.

The sole of your heel slams against the bottom of the door, widening it entirely. You entered the room with a click of the underside of your shoes, reverberating throughout the suddenly too-cold, too-hollow room you found yourself in. The only sense of illumination is the light from the foyer, trickling into the suddenly too-compact expanse.

You crouched down. Knees hitting the base of the flooring similarly to Oliver’s own, barely a foot or two away. You could hear the tameness of his breaths. The sharp, panicked gasps and swallows that only made your lips twist upward. The threat was there, looming over Oliver’s head, choking him by the throat.

‘Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. You decide, Ollie.’

‘How–’

The length of your fingers curled around the curve of his cheeks, pressed into the slight hollowness that would follow. Silencing him in turn. The splinters of illumination from the doorway behind them manage to offer an iridescent glow toward the plumpness of Oliver’s lips as you squeeze half of his alluring face.

You hadn’t expected the first, proper interactions with Oliver Quick to wind up in his manner. But you have no intention to stop. The fashion in which his eyes bore into your own, gaze hawk-like as he stared down at you. Eyelashes fluttering. Pupils dilated.

A wave of awareness rolled through you at the sight. Those same splinters of warmth unfurled in the base of your abdomen.

‘What are you doing here, Oliver?’

Your digits eased around the sides of his face to allow him to speak. The cheeks you once grappled somewhat pinkened once more, face glowing under your undivided attention.

Oliver’s breaths grew slower and slower. As if your touch drunken him.

‘Felix invited me,’ his words were borderlining a whine, scrambling to explain himself. ‘For the summer.’

The base of your eyebrows drew together darkly. The amusement reverberating in your eyes dissolved into a slight annoyance. Your fingers traveled toward the curve of his chin, taking it into your possession in a rough matter it sends Oliver’s eyes to rounden in response. He was a sick, sick liar.

He corrected himself, in seconds. ‘For revenge.’

‘Revenge?’

Despite your concentration, you hadn’t realized the lack of distance placed between you and Oliver. The proximity is intoxicating. To the point in which you felt the soft exhale of his breath fan across the form of your painted lips. His scent disturbed the twist of white musk and dust in the air, catching you off guard.

You dipped your head further upward. A single breath away from his own.

Oliver’s words scrambled from his parted lips, each syllable trembling. ‘Revenge.’ He confirmed with a singular breath.

That singular breath that was virtually snatched away from him as you captured those plump lips with your own. A warm hum of pleasure buzzes throughout your body, sensations setting your nerves on fire as your mouth brushes across his.

You retreated into yourself momentarily. Ears perked up as Oliver drew in a sharp intake of breath, eyes half-lidded and glazed over with a glimmer of euphoria. He inched forward. A small movement that confirmed the lust that sparks behind his hues.

Honeyed heat circulated throughout your body as your lips locked with his own. Threads of that same heat were found within each movement of their mouths. Your cheeks burnt with stuffled anticipation.

A soft, strangled noise reverberates toward the back of Oliver’s throat as your hands enter the proximity of his caramel-like locks. Soft to the touch, feathery. The pads of your fingers curled against his scalp. Curling. Tugging. Kisses growing with heat and passion, further and further until Oliver was a mess between your two palms.

Oliver virtually whined as you pulled away. The lipstick you had carefully applied the hour prior smeared across the edge of your oh-so-swollen lips.

The pad of your thumb ran across the form of your mouth, the crimson red dirting the length of her digit. She pulled a single finger along Oliver’s lips, smearing the remnants of the lipstick.

‘And what are you doing with my family’s heirlooms?’ You inquired, words soft with sensuality. Masking it with a casualty as you press onward. Thumb pressed immensely into the dimple of his cheek, ruddiness staining the ivory of his skin.

Oliver leaned into her touch. ‘I was just curious, that’s all.’

You knew that there was a nefarious nature in his intentions. You removed your hand entirely and raised to your feet on two heels. The sound of your soles meeting the oak floor echoes out, bouncing against the walls as you approach an ancient, traditional desk. Draped with a translucent cover. It was considered to be as old as the estate itself, yet you had no problem sitting all over it.

Oliver watched in the process. Eyes rounded a remnant of a bashful doe. A spark of recognition appeared behind those eyes as you inclined a singular fingertip toward the space before you.

‘On your knees.’

You took a bound of pleasure watching as Oliver dropped before you. Those knees strained against the ground. Trickles of arousal unfolded in your abdomen, nerves set alight and anticipation fluid within you as he came eye-to-eye with the satin fabric that shielded your cunt. And it was hard to miss the stained wetness.

‘Y’know what? I don’t think Felix would be too happy if he–’

‘You can suck off my brother later, but you’re serving me now. Or everyone will know whatever betrayal you’re planning against them.’

Oliver choked back any other remaining protests. Witnessing as your undergarments rolled down your hips, down the curve of your thighs, sliding along your calves, and dangling from the top of your ankle. Exposing your womanhood entirely to him, your legs widened a little further.

At the sight, Oliver leaned forward. Willing to comply. A foreign, almost animalistic thirst reflects in the light of his hues. Only halted by a singular palm. Your fingers propped atop the strewn locks atop his head, restraining him from reaching the wetness he yearned for.

‘I’m gonna ask you this again, and this time you’re telling me the truth, bunny.’

Your words were slow. Diligently pronounced and purposeful with each syllable.

‘What are you doing with the heirlooms?’

‘I just need–’ His words escaped in fluent gasps. Your skin prickled as Oliver’s trembling breaths fanned your womanhood. ‘I just needed some dirt on Farleigh.’

‘Oh yeah?’

The length of a singular leg of yours gradually intertwined around Oliver’s shoulders. Your hand eased up as you nudged him closer toward you. He willfully allows you to guide him, nose practically touching the top of your mound.

His words continued with a shuddered puff, eyes virtually glazed over.

‘Something that’ll disappoint your parents.’ Oliver dwells upon his reasonings further.

‘And Felix?’

He nods.

‘You dirty, dirty dog.’

Those words only fuelled Oliver further. And before you could even consider knowingly degrading him once more, the searing heat of his tongue is pressed against the slickness of your folds. He works his mouth against your cunt, movements growing sloppier and sloppier as he basks in the sexual validation he receives. The length of your fingers find themselves in his hair once more, fluffed, brunette strands coddled around your fist as you squeeze your legs around him.

The pleasure that you receive from his mouth alone is indescribable. Honeyed, warm ecstasy maneuvers throughout you. That familiar space between your thighs aches, even as Oliver’s lips latch onto them. Merely fuelling the fire that runs hot underneath your skin, alighting your nerves on fire.

“Fuck…” You can feel him grin around you.

A finger shortly accompanies the consumption of his tongue. And Oliver’s fingers are undeniably long, pale fleshed worked down to the knuckle with the force of a few pumps. He adds another. Then another. Stealing a moan or two from the depths of your throat, forcing you to clamp your lips shut. If anyone walked in. Your cheeks burn at the thought.

You bucked your hips into his fingers as Oliver worked you open, curling into you without faltering. Plunging his digits into you, again and again until you were breathless. Calves curled around him, guiding him further and further toward your sensitivities. Welcoming his mouth back onto you once more.

Oliver’s lips latched longingly onto the little pearl lining your entrance. He murmurs sweet nothings into you, fingers easing their pace until you can only hear the subtle quickness of your heaving breaths. And his whispers. Whispers of how wet you are, and how much he longs to quench that thirst. Again and again. On his knees, basked in his most vulnerable state.

Just for you. Oliver both in time, curls his fingers and squeezes your bud. Unleashing a wave of fire that takes you by the throat, walls squeezing around the length as you come undone. Shockwaves virtually gripping you. Tremors guide you back from your high as both grunts and moans of approval escape you.

Oliver glows under the attention. He peers up at you, through the intensity of his thick lashes. Doe eyes blinking occasionally, innocently, as he pops those fingers into his mouth where he once tasted you. Suckling. Tongue flittering around the pad of his digits.

‘You’ve done that before, haven’t you?’ Your words were more of a statement than an assumption. The pulsing of your newfound arousal doesn’t show in the slightest, only glimmering behind the intensity of your eyes. You weren’t done with your bunny, not yet anyway.

Oliver’s fingers escape his lips with a reverberating pop. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

You reach downward briefly. Taking the lace of your panties with a single hand, guiding the garment around the base of your heels. Abandoning them on the dust-soaked floor. Those same heels meet that same grounding.

‘I didn’t take you for a fuckboy, bunny.” You practically spit, taking pride in how his eyes wobble slightly at the force of your filthy, filthy words. A short snap fills the room as you indicate your hand towards the oak tiles.

‘On the floor.’

Oliver doesn’t say anything less, finding his body sprawled out before you. Essentially submitting himself to you in the process, something that ignites that oh-so-familiar heat in the pit of your belly. You stand over him, relinquishing in how he stares up at you, willing for you to do anything to him.

‘Pants off.’ Your words are snappy and insistent. You almost feel like that spoiled little one you used to be as a child, one who would get anything you would desire. ‘You don’t need them.’

Oliver’s fingers work to untangle his belt, loosening the dark fabric of his pants. The material rolls down his hips, his hardness is immensely visible through the thinness of his boxers. The bulge accompanying the arousal that burns throughout your entire body, abdomen unfurling with that oh-so-familiar heat.

You drop down toward him, legs clamped down on either side of Oliver’s thighs. You are squeezing them somewhat. The curve of your palm cups the fabriced nature of his manhood, causing a soft moan to escape him.

‘[Y/N]...’ The broadness of Oliver’s hands grapple the frame of your hips, the warmth of his fingers curling around you. He virtually buckles up into you, against your bareness. A motion that causes your lips to curl up into a lazy smirk.

‘Repeat my name, bunny.’ The pad of your fingers tease the rim of his boxers.

Oliver’s breath shudders. ‘I’m begging, [Y/N].’

A gradual, mocking roll of your eyes overtakes you nevertheless as you tug the thick material down. They roll and crinkle along the bottom of Oliver’s thighs, allowing for him to spring out for full reveality. For you and you alone. A low whistle fills the emptiness of the room as you observe his girth. Oliver is virtually trembling under the intensity of your gaze as you curl a fist around the length of his shaft, taking delight in how he buckled into you.

‘Be patient now.’ The words escape you with a scoff as you feign annoyance.

Oliver quietens in your demand. Alas, as you position yourself above him, you can still hear the raspiness of his breaths and the pleasure you take in the stink of desperation high in the air. He buries himself into you with a singular thrust, merely forcing a soft groan at the initial discomfort at he fills you. Stretches you out. Your hips slap against his own as you buckle up and down across his length, Oliver mimicking your movements to a tee.

You arch into him, soft noises of pleasure escaping you as he manages to claw ecstasy from you with every singular thrust. Your inner walls clutched around him, causing Oliver to drop his head back, gasping your name out as if it were a prayer. As if he were on the verge of life and death.

‘[Y/N]?’

‘Yes?’

It’s odd how the two of you presented the conversation as if you weren’t rutting your entire life and soul into him. Onto him. Oliver continues to writhe around some more, arching himself into you, again and again. The whiteness of his cheeks is notably flushed with arousal.

‘I’m about to –’

You slow down your pace until you’re merely mounting him, the lack of movement causing a groan of sexual frustration to claw from Oliver’s throat. The side of your thighs squeezes around his hips for extra exaggeration as you proceed to speak, merely unphased, even as you are reaching your release.

‘Jesus, Ollie, don’t be so fuckin’ greedy.’

You scold through hitched breath and hushed moans. His girth is warm inside you, and something about that is so utterly pleasing.

‘You aren’t to come unless you’ve pleased me enough.’

The demand causes Oliver’s head to loll back with esteemed annoyance, but he doesn’t say anything. It merely prompts the width of his hands to press into your hips, beginning to rock himself into you. It steals a moan out of your lips, but the sight of his desperation is a sight of see indeed. You arch further into him as he ruts against the exact spot that causes you to see stars.

The length of your hand folds around the back of his neck. ‘Right there, bunny, oh, you fuckin’ beast!’

Closer now. Closer now.

‘Say my name, [Y/N].’ Oliver heaves with strained breath, holding back on his orgasm has done numbers on him.

You wack him across the back of the head.

‘That’s my line, dickhead.’

Alas, the words barely escape your lips as the boiling and bubbling dam within you snaps and crashes. You dissolved into nothing but pure pleasure. Nevertheless, whatever you had said, Oliver’s name played on your lips in something that bordered screams. Tremors of ecstasy fill you as Oliver continues to pound into you, guiding you throughout your orgasm in your most vulnerable moment.

Aftershocks spark within you as you go limp, pulling yourself together with heaved breath and glazed eyes.

‘Have I pleased you enough, then?’

Oliver’s voice is hoarse, tearing you out of your orgasm-fuelled trance.

‘It’ll do, bunny.’

But before, Oliver can even consider his release. You rise from your previous position, his girth sliding out of you with ease, glistening with your slick. You tug the fabric of panties around your hips and back in place, glancing in a dust-covered mirror as you adjust your appearance. To make it seem as if you haven’t spent the past half hour having the life sucked out of you.

‘[Y/N] –’

Oliver’s protests rise in the air, falling upon deaf ears as you proceed to exit the room itself. The bottom of your heels thud against the wood-slicked tiles as you reenter the dining room, hope in hand. Your wordless wishes are fulfilled at once at the sight of Farleigh, who is window-watching, wine in hand.

‘Farleigh, thank God, I found you.’

Farleigh turns his head, bringing his glass to his lips.

‘What now?’ He’s waving away your presence entirely, it is clear.

As much as you despise this half of the family, you maintain a clear mind.

‘Oliver was rummaging through your mother’s heirlooms. I suggest you go, now. Heed my warning or not, I don’t care.’

A look of suspicion flashes across Farleigh’s face. His lips part momentarily in question before he thinks otherwise. Smart boy. Setting his wine down and immediately dashing past you. A yell or two sounds out a moment later, and your painted lips quirk upwards in pleasure.

You knew what Oliver was up to. It was clear from the first day you laid eyes upon the household’s guest. But no. It wasn’t up to Oliver to wipe out the Cattons from existence, even though he’d be doing the filthy work for you. It was admirable yes.

But it was your job. A job you strived to complete.

You slip your hand into the slight pocket in the fabric of your dress. Pulling out a small capsule. Your eyes narrow down on the glass of wine, vacant on the table.

Starting with Farleigh.

WORD COUNT: 4K MASTERLIST REQ ME!

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barbatusart · 5 months

Note

Do you have a recommendation for a specific book of your work for folks who showed up for your Bg3 stuff? (Also if you read the parts out of order would that be an issue?)

welcome aboard!!! thank you so much for checking my bg3 stuff out, it's a pleasure to have you

as i said in my other post over here, im predominantly an extreme horror artist! i 100% decline to call myself an eroguro artist because personally i dont find the kind of gore & horror i do particularly erotic, but im super fascinated with the horrors of the body & the darkness of the general human experience, so thats the kind of stuff i tend to make. it isnt the worst most heinous Ever you'll find out there, but im fully aware that it's A Lot, so everything i make with @meanbossart is thoroughly warned for so nobody goes into our body of work unaware & gets a nasty shock.

bg3 in particular goes some pretty dark routes (some bits in a dark urge run even made me kinda reel back and go "jesus"), so id say for people coming in from bg3 your mileage may heavily vary. if torture & really extreme body horror doesnt bother you, you may be OK with SAD SACK (sus.space/sadsack) and its current wip sequel SORTIE (sus.space/sortie), but i would still recommend reading each book's individual content warnings thoroughly before choosing to spend any money. (everything is paywalled to further deter minors.) if you're on the fence about how much horror content is too much for you, or if you're curious about these titles but find the content warnings to be concerning, my DMs on tumblr+twitter and my IMs are always open if you have any questions about particular CWs or even need specific page numbers so you can either skip that bit of gore or be informed enough to approach the page number(s), take a Deep breath, and proceed when youre ready! for these 2 titles in particular, unfortunately they do have a linear story, so to fully grasp what's going on requires reading the books in order. again if it's something youre curious to the point of wanting to try but on the fence about, i am always welcoming of inquiring DMs to help make the experience thrilling + chilling but Not genuinely upsetting.

if you're OK with a little violence and body horror but not as splatterfest as these titles, im currently chipping away at the preliminaries for my giant project LOVOS4017 (lovos4017.the-comic.org) which is a love letter to TNG scifi and 80s cyberpunk anime. im currently on pause with the roughs since last year due to COVID frontline burnout, but ive by no means abandoned it; this IP is my baby that ive been workshopping the show bible for for over a decade & i want to see it through to the end B)

finally if you would like to read our work but want to avoid gore and extreme violence entirely, we do have some stuff that is violence-free! [email protected] (suscomics.itch.io/pooppix) is a comic with a really bonkers premise but no violence and no visible onscreen poop i promise about finding genuine human connection over unusual shared interests on the internet. ATTACK DOG (suscomics.itch.io/attackdog) is also a short solo comic i did myself about sex, quasi-submission fetish, & the requirements of true love (theres some mild gooey body weirdness but no gore i promise)

overall i thank you for showing interest in what @meanbossart & i do! we tend towards strange & unusual premises and presentations, but i hope that you find something within our body of work that entertains you. if you every have any questions about anything, please please please feel free to DM me at any time; my goal in life is to entertain & provoke thought!

#q&a #sad sack #sortie #lovos4017 #[email protected]#attack dog

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thedeerman · 5 days

Text

RadioApple Week Day 1: Early Morning

So I draw a little bit here and there but Ive been spending a LOT more time writing. I’m hoping it’s alright that I decided to post excerpts of my ongoing Radioapple fic instead of drawings!

An excerpt from DYWTK Chapter 23: Adore

Lucifer didn’t sleep for very long after their all-night chat, so he woke up some time before Alastor did. He liked to do so as often as possible, actually. It gave the king extra time to snuggle up to the oh so terrifying radio demon.

He’d hate to admit it, but Lucifer also loved watching Alastor sleep. Not in a creepy way, of course! No, it’s just that the guy wasn’t nearly as hostile when he was asleep, which made him straight up adorable. Also, it made Lucifer a lot less nervous to stare. There was no way he was going to admit any of that out loud, though.

Alastor, having deer features, had hooved feet just like Lucifer did. He also, amazingly, had a fluffy little tail. And just like his fuzzy ears, it would sometimes twitch while he was asleep. Unfortunately for the fallen angel, Alastor had made it very clear very soon after he started staying in Lucifer’s room that the tail was off limits. No touching allowed. Huge bummer, honestly.

So Lucifer would just lay there in bed, listening to Alastor quietly snore and watching his ears flick back and forth as he dreamed. That was when the demon actually slept, of course.

It was quite often that Alastor didn't sleep for long, sometimes he didn’t sleep at all. He would still get nightmares that caused him to make scared and angry little noises, and whether the demon himself was aware of that or not, Lucifer wasn’t sure. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask.

Most often when this happened, the king would sing a quiet tune until Alastor settled back into calm sleep. So far, he had a 100% success rate with that strategy. It wasn’t any bother to Lucifer; sleep wasn’t something he needed as regularly as mortals. But it always worried him when his partner couldn’t sleep.

Before, it was just one of those things he just silently went over in his head for hours, afraid to chase away the first person to tolerate him in decades. But now with their new deal, perhaps the next sleepless night Alastor had, Lucifer would ask what was keeping him awake.

For now though, the angel just watched the radio demon sleep. Sometimes Pudu would keep him company, but other times, like right now, it was just the two of them. Lucifer wished he could just keep them in this peaceful moment in time forever, but eventually Alastor opened his eyes and asked, “Have you been staring at me all morning?”

Lucifer laughed. “Not all morning, no. Just for a little while.”

Alastor hummed and rolled over, not willing to get out of bed just yet. Lucifer took the opportunity to scooch closer and- avoiding touching his tail too much- pulled Alastor close. The demon grumbled an unintelligible, half-asleep complaint, making Lucifer chuckle. Even half-conscious, he was so easy to annoy.

Thankfully Lucifer had learned by now that Alastor’s ‘vague annoyance’ was more accurately defined as ‘I'm going to act like I want to complain but don’t not do the thing because I secretly like it and don’t want to admit it out loud.’ When he truly didn’t like something, he made it very clear. So the king just gently kissed Alastor’s shoulder, earning him another low grumble.

(Not gonna lie, I love this scene. It's so simple and sweet.)

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #duckiedeer #radioapple week #do you want to know #hazbin fanfic #mine

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pomegranate-pen · 1 year

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Hi iv really enjoyed your lackadaisy writing and was wondering if you’d be willing to write dating headcanons for Mordecai Heller?

He’s one of my favorites atm

A/n: hey everyone!! hope you're all having a good day!!! so a lot fo you requested mordecai dating headcanons, so here it is!! this will probably be the last headcanons I'll do, and I'll now stick to writing scenarios while also my main focus being continuing my fanfics. also going to start making up the plot for the potential rocky fic. though that all may come out in summer, since I'm slowly but surely exam seasons. anyways- hope you all enjoy this!!

Mordecai Heller x gn! reader general

-Mordecai is definitely cold toward you the very first time you meet. He will not speak to you about himself or his interests, he will keep the conversations short and straight to the point and he will not care about a single thing you do, only he will be annoyed when you do a task wrong.

-If you’re a regular of sorts, or someone who will become his partner or co-worker, then you’ll learn a few more bits and information about him and if stayed long enough, you will get a few more lines other than orders about what he feels about a certain subject matter or a few other workers around here (mostly complaints about the Savoy siblings, given how much he has to spend time with them on the daily). even then, he merely considers you an acquaintance. And it will take many years and much more meetings for him to see you as a friend. and when it does happen, it is subtle, but the conversations are more apparent, and your opinion on different matters is valued much more.

-Being his lover, however, will take much longer, and needs a much more deal of spending time and getting to know him. Which can be hard given how closed off he is about his life and past. Despite that, it’s not an impossible task. Rather, it’s made extremely difficult due to Mordecai’s own lack of interest in such things, his trust issues, and a bundled amount of feelings of unworthiness towards such a thing as love. He believes he doesn’t need it nor does he deserve it, and he doesn’t mind either of those.

-However, though his feelings are completely uninterested in such matters, that doesn’t mean he won’t fall for someone, which in this case, becomes you after half a decade or so of being friends with him.

-the first to realize their feelings is most likely you. since Mordecai will first assume that his emotions towards you are just ones out of the care and respect he has for you as a friend. If you realize them, you must keep quiet about them for the most part, since Mordecai won’t really understand why there would be such a feeling harboring between you two, and he must process his own feelings himself before accepting yours. When he does realize them, oh boy, it’s rough. He feels guilty for loving you, because he doesn’t trust himself with any intimate relationship. Given how his friendship went with Viktor, he was already extremely hesitant about the idea of another friend, now, a lover and a partner, someone that he needs to trust and share a part of his life with, and they must do with him, is frightening and confusing to say the least. As said before, he doesn’t believe he’s worthy of such things. And now that he wants it from you, he feels like a villain of sorts. Taking something that doesn’t belong to him in the first place.

-It will take quite a few months for him to accept these feelings of his, almost half a year even. You seriously need to be very patient with him, something that he will appreciate the world of when you do. his confession is short, and straight to the point. Though, a few ticks of stress and anxiousness can be seen in him. For example, his ears are twitching here and then, his tail is flicking up and down in his seat and he cannot for the life of him seem to stare at you in the eye for more than three seconds. His words are quick, and his tone is a bit clumsy for a guy like him. at the end of it, the flicks of his tail are quicker in speed, and now, he’s looking straight at you with a hesitant look, as if he’s regretting the confession already a second after it’s done.

-He’s calmed down and surprised when you do accept his confession, and he’d not know what to do at that point. he’d nod his head, clear his throat, and thank you. “very well then,” his ears twitched a bit. “ I suppose we’d have to…plan a date now?”

-It takes him some time, but with some help from yours, he finds, in his opinion, the true meaning of dating someone. It is not about dates and being over the top like he presumed, yet it is a way of spending time and enjoying each other’s presence, and being loyal to one another for more than anyone else.

-So as you can guess, dates are quite rare. He never sees the point in it, though if you want such an activity to happen every once in a while, perhaps with a bit of pleading and coaxing you’ll get him to begrudgingly get time out of his day to do such things with you. yet, even though he seems annoyed by the entire occasion at first, you find him calm and even smiling at some point the more time you spend with him on the said dates.

His love language is spending time with one another. Though at the start of the relationship, miscommunication will be common, since Mordecai isn't one to speak about his feelings, if you try your best to tackle it healthily, your relationship with him will be all about communication and it will be the very reason why it’s so strong at the end of it all. It also makes him see communication as the most important part of the relationship, so he’s completely honest, brutally so at times.

--The love language he’d like to receive most is the same, though he does get a bit flustered anytime you use words of affirmation and compliment him, then quickly denies your compliments or thanks you for them.

-Not at all a PDA person, nor is he a physically affectionate guy in private either. He doesn’t like physical contact, either finding it too stuffy or too warm for his liking and just not being in much of a mood for it most times. Though, if in a situation you truly seem like you need a warm embrace or a hand to hold, he wouldn’t mind giving that to you, though he’ll be a bit flustered and quiet the entire time while doing so. He wouldn’t ever say this out loud, but his favorite act of affection from you is when you kiss or peck his cheek. It's surprising to him and it makes him melt a bit, being treated with such softness is quite rare in his life, so he doesn’t know what to do when you peck him, but his heart is beating so fast he can’t focus. He could only look at you in shock and touch the cheek you have kissed in instinct. Give him a forehead kiss and you’ll have an extremely quiet Mordecai awaiting you. he’s processing every second of that quick kiss and he’s speechless by how much it moved him.

-Word about your relationship will never spread out, since Mordecai is extremely private about such things. No one realizes you two are dating unless one of you says so. The only ones who do notice by connecting the dots themselves are the Savoy siblings and Viktor.

-Whether you like it or not, information about Mordecai’s family will mostly never be revealed. You’ll most likely just know that he has two sisters, but that is all he will ever tell you. and in fairness, he never tries to force you to speak about yours either, so it’s a mutual agreement at times to just avoid the topic unless it is deemed necessary by a dangerous circumstance to be said.

-He doesn’t have many hobbies, but if you still try to enjoy a few things he does such as reading the same book he has on his shelves, you’ll be met with a cautiously excited and info-dumping Mordecai who starts debates and discussions with you about which part of the books you enjoyed and detested.

-He’ll try to indulge a bit in a few hobbies you have as well, but he’ll probably not get much invested in them. Though, he still sees it as a worthy journey, since in the end you were smiling and excited when explaining things to him.

-Mordecai feels much more comfortable ranting to you than anyone else. So most times when he comes back from work for the day and has a weekend to look forward to, he spends that time drinking tea with you while speaking about anything and nothing that is on his mind. Treat this like it was diamonds in a mine full of charcoal. because not everyone has the luck to meet this side of Mordecai Heller. He’s more expressive when he’s with you, more open with his emotions, which means the level of trust he has with you is most than anyone else’s.

He’ll listen to all your rants and complaints as well, and if needed, he will give honest advice for your problems. Don’t expect any comfort, though. Because he isn't the best one for such things and he makes that clear all the time before you start your rant.

-Wherever you live, whether it's in a separate apartment from his or if you’ve moved in with him, it will be extremely clean. Whether it’s because of his actions or yours, a completely clean and tidied-up house becomes the absolute norm in your life. If you were one who never really cared about those things, well, you will have to at some point for his sake, since he’s always extremely uncomfortable in messy areas.

-Mordecai Heller loves you, but he won’t ever verbally say it. yet, you’ll always know that, because his actions speak much louder than words ever can, and you understand every word he's saying when he’s making tea for you or asking about your day, speaking to you on the daily or just sitting next to you. you know he loves you, and you know he loves you back. and perhaps, that is why this relationship worked in the first place. It will have its hardships, yes, but like any other relationship, it doesn’t mean it won’t have its good moments either.

#lackadaisy mordecai x reader #lackadaisy mordecai #lackadaisy x reader #lackadaisy #fanfiction #x reader #headcanons #mordecai heller x reader #lackadaisy mordecai heller x reader

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