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jpitha · 5 months

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The Oxygen Breathers: With one hand tied behind my back!

The human sat on the bench in the common area for at least one of their hours before the children worked up the courage to approach.

"You're a human right?" One of the children - an Innari - said as they approached the human. They were taller than the human, and seemed to have barely any bones. They moved and undulated like an octopus that was used to being out of the water.

The human's helmet flashed an cartoon icon of its face and smiled - without their teeth - broadly. "That's right! My name is Harold, but everyone calls me Harry. What's your name?"

"I'm Opian, this is Downward Draft, and standing in the back is Vizxxian." They gestured with their tentacle-like appendage. It had manipulators on the end which could be seen a little like fingers. Good for fine detail work.

Harry put up his gauntleted hand and spread his fingers. A wave. "It's a pleasure to meet you all. What can I help with?"

"Downward Draft says humans are the strongest of the Coalition peoples. Is that true?"

Harry sat up slightly. His icon continued to speak while he did. "Well, I don't rightly know if that's true, Downward Draft. I haven't met everyone. Of the ones I did meet, I have a hunch I might be stronger, but you also have to remember, we come from a heavier world than most of the other Coalition species. Earth's gravitational pull is half again what it is here on this station. There were gasps and noises of surprises from the kids. "That's so heavy!" Downward Draft rustled their feathers they caught the light and sparkled. "This station is already heavy for us; our homeworld's gravity is even less. I bet I couldn't' even walk on your planet!"

Harry's icon nodded. "You might be right, Downward Draft. But, gravity aside, it's nice here. I like the colors you use to decorate, and I like your plants. Everything back home is just different shades of green."

Vizxxian was working themselves up for something. Harry peered over Opian's head. "How about you? Do you have a question?"

Viz's eye slits squeezed shut and they blurted out "My parent says you're all a bunch of 'rock throwers' and that we should have never let you into the Coalition. They say that outside of your suits and ships, you're not so tough."

Downward Draft nudged Viz. "Don't be mean Viz! Harry is a guest here. You know how to treat guests."

Harry chuckled. "It's all right Downward Draft. We learn things from our parents. Part of growing up is trying to figure out what is true and what isn't. Now, I'm not mad, but you know that 'rock throwers' is a slur, and not a nice thing to say, right?"

Viz's ears wiggled in assent. "Yes, but that's the word father used. I know it's a bad word though."

Harry nodded. "Context is important though. I could say 'I picked up this rock and threw it' and that's not a slur, but if I said 'those rock throwers always go back on their deals' that is a slur. It's all right though, I'm not angry." Harry's helmet cleared. The kids looked across as his face became visible for the first time. Opian's eyes dilated in surprise. "So your dad thinks that we're not so tough outside of our suits? How about we place a little wager? I'll get out of my suit, and if any of you can touch my arm, I'll buy you a snack."

Opian shrinked back. Downward Draft raised their feathered arms in a gesture of dismissial. "You can't breath the atmostphere here! You'll die!"

Harry put up a hand. "It'll be all right. I'll wear a breathing mask, and the pressure and atmosphere difference won't hurt me for the time I'll be out of the suit."

"Oh we couldn't-"

"I'll do it!" Opian and Downward Draft turned in shock to Viz. They had stood to their full height, just a little taller than Harry and bent their legs just a little. "I can touch your arm."

Harry grinned. "Good. Let's see." Harry stood up, and touched the pad on his suit's arm. There was orange light that illuminated his face and he frowned and pressed more buttons on his suit. After a moment, it turned green, and lines appeared all over the suit. Joints. With a hiss of pressure and a whine of servos, his suit unfolded like a flower, and Harry stepped out.

He was much shorter than the kids. Just two meters tall if that. On the top of his head was a dark fur that was closely cropped, and he had fur all over the lower part of his face that was the same color. Under the outer, armored suit he wore a tight body suit that connected to the outer suit with thin wires. Harry reached down and unplugged them and they slid up into the suit he was wearing and disappeared. Opian was impressed. Their suits seemed to be far more advanced than ones of Innari make.

"There." Harry's voice was much lower than his translator made it sound. Maybe it was the difference in breathing gas? It was also a little muffled by his mask. "Okay Viz. Whenever you're ready."

Opian and Draft stood back and watched. Viz stood stock still and seemed like they were trying to decide what to do. Suddenly, Viz howled and ran towards Harry. Their long legs consumed the distance between them relentlessly. At the last half meter, Viz spun and in one fluid motion bend down and lashed out with one of their legs. Opian gasped. He was attacking Harry! That's a lethal kick if it connects.

Before Opian could react any further, Harry... wasn't were he was before. He was standing a meter to the side, and Viz was flying backwards into the bench. Viz jumped up, and roared again. This was a roar of frustration as well as a battle cry, and charged Harry. Once again, Harry stood there watching, and as Viz turned to kick him, he wasn't were Viz expected, and they went skittering across the smooth floor.

Harry stood with his hands on his hips. His eyes flicked to Opian and Draft. "Remember, strength isn't everything. Know your opponent. Know how they attack, watch for signs, paying attention and then you can move out of the way and dodge." Harry was grinning and put his hand out and curled his fingers towards himself. "Come on, Opian, Downward Draft, you try too!"

Downward Draft bent low and leapt towards Harry, using their legs to absorb as much potential energy as possible, releasing it as they sprung towards him with arms outstretched. Quicker than Opian could follow, Harry ducked underneath the Avar, and Draft sailed harmlessly overhead.

Harry, looked at Opian and raised one of the small lines of hair above his eyes. "What about you, Opian? Give it a try?"

"No, thank you Harry. I concede. There's no way I could touch you."

Harry's nodded. "That's all right. Mayb-"

Harry looked over and Downward Draft was standing mere centimeters away, with his arm out, and the barest edge of one of his iridescent feathers brushed against Harry's arm.

"Got you." Draft whispered.

Harry tipped his head back and laughed. The kids all took a step back in fear. "No, no, it's all right. that's a fair touch. You win, Downward Draft. I'll buy you snacks. Just let me get back into my suit. My skin is starting to itch."

It only took a moment for Harry's suit to climb onto him and fit around him as he stood there. "I have to say Downward Draft, you can move quietly."

They ruffled their feathers in pride. "Thank you Harry. On my world, moving without noise is a prized skill."

Harry darkened his helmet and his icon re-appeared. "Harry?"

He turned, "Yes, Viz?"

"You don't have to darken your helmet. We don't think you're scary anymore."

Harry's helmet cleared. He smiled without showing his teeth. "I'm glad to hear that Vizxxian. I'm glad to hear that."

#humans are deathworlders #writing #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #jpitha #sci fi writing #humans and aliens #humans are space capybaras #humans are space australians #The Oxygen Breathers

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popping-your-culture · 6 months

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Fill her up! The ultimate babe, Bettie Page!

#bettie page #total babe #goddess #legs and heels #legs for miles #smoke show #legs for days #daily katy #pinup girl #sexy pinup #legs from here to homeworld #smoking hot

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ask-whitepearl-and-steven · 1 year

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Did you intentionally draw Earl off-model in the early chapters of SU and her appearance start to look on-model the more Steven know about her?

Well uh.

Legs from Here to Homeworld, the first episode where Pink Pearl appeared for any length of time, aired in December.

Ask White Pearl and Steven began in.... September.

A full three months before the episode aired officially.

Because I started drawing it based on early previews and sneak peeks for the episode. So the model was off because. The model was not... on. As it were.

Also. I was still not quite settled into the style for the comic! Steven was severely 'off model' as well. Because I was figuring out how to draw him in my style without making him unrecognizable! He still is, in many ways.

Though to be completely honest, being on-model is not really something I..........aim for. I enjoy drawing in the SU style but many of the gems are off model because it's. My comic.

#chekhov answers #a bit of a strange way to ask this question but like #you do you i guess

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ms--lobotomy · 3 months

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@lawnchair86 ORDER UP! More Peter Rabo for you!

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this is a sequel to the original which can be found here

summary: you struggle to get comfortable with your captor on your first day with him.

word count: 1259

content warnings: captive romance, colonization, reader is scared but something else, i guess it could be considered dubcon so beware

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Warm didn't even begin to describe how your face felt. You ran a hand along your collar, which had warmed up since it had first clasped your neck. Some of them had turned away, some of them had carried on with their business. Some of them stared. Even now you felt their stares on your back, their whispers from behind you. You would have at least liked the comfort of knowing what they were saying, whispering, hissing.

In the present, you felt chills crawl down your spine as you sat next to your captor. You looked up at him, hard at work on his next contraption. His gaze was intense, as if he were about to throttle the metal in front of him. Your chain was now tied to one of the legs of the table, a thick ring adjoining link to link.

"Is this how you intend on making me comfortable?" you almost muttered. You played with the chain in your fingers, it slid between them like silk.

"You're going to have to wait a little bit," he said gruffly. He turned the screw on the thing he was making, and you examined it a little more closely. You tried to make meaning of it, but the mess of wires and scraps of metal barely gave away what he was making.

"Can you at least tell me what you're making?" you asked.

Perturabo sighed, and put his hands on the table. "Robot? Automaton?" he sputtered. "Whatever it is in your language. You will be learning High Gothic soon enough."

You sighed, crossing your arms. "Maybe I don't want to learn your crusty old language," you scoffed, looking away from him.

The beginnings of a smile graced Perturabo's face. "Then how are you going to communicate with anyone here?" he asked. He reached for your jaw and took it in his hand, forcing you to come face to face with him. His fingers pressed into your skin, almost swallowing it.

You felt the heart in your chest racing, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. He wasn't gentle, but it was a touch nonetheless. This was a man whose army left no survivors of your forces, save for yourself. But you weren't sure that fear was the only thing you felt. Your eyes met his quickly before they darted away.

"Go on. I'm waiting."

Despite your best efforts to maintain what little control you had, your lips quivered. "Fine," you spat. "You win. You have my homeworld, your... things killed my army. What more do you want?" You felt yourself shivering.

A laugh came out of the hulking demigod before you. "Is it not obvious, darling?" he bellowed before leaning down so that his face almost met yours.

That word again. It felt so unnatural on his lips, as if a man like him was not created to utter something so intimate. But it came out of him all the same. He was so close now that you couldn't avert your eyes, you had to look at him. Behold him. You opened your mouth to say something, anything to occupy the silence between you two, but failed miserably.

The hand around your jaw slid down towards your back, pulling you in closer to him. He used the finger on his remaining hand to part your lips. You froze.

"Just relax," he said, though it was more of a command than a suggestion. "Relax and remember who bandaged you."

He put his mouth on yours. You felt something primal in you, a deep desire to give in. You knew you shouldn't, you knew that you should be fighting for your planet until your last breath if need be. But did you really think you had any choice in the matter?

Just as you relaxed into the kiss, he pulled away. "You're not going to escape," he chuckled before unclasping the collar. You rubbed the raw skin where it used to be, having grown to appreciate feeling air around your neck.

He picked you up and put you on the ground next to him as if you were nothing more than a napkin being thrown in the bin. "I'm going to need to do this properly if I am to do it at all," he said, grabbing your arm and leading you to an empty wall. Your head was feeling light as he guided you to the wall, once again pinning you up against it as he knelt down. He was so close to you now.

And once again his mouth was on yours. That desire to give in was back, stronger than ever. It took a few seconds for you to reciprocate the kiss, give him what he wanted. As his tongue parted your lips, you felt your hands slip onto his chest. You could feel your jaw start to bruise from where he held it too tightly, but you pressed on.

Soon enough, he pulled away. "Perturabo..." you began, eyes wide. You were not entirely sure where to go from that first statement. Your hands fell from his chest, and one of his hands grabbed your wrist. It was tight enough to almost draw blood. You winced.

"You're easier to crack than you let on," he remarked, his remaining hand tracing the bruise on your face.

You opened your mouth to speak, but caught yourself. You were going to tell him not to tell anyone in your army, but who was left to tell? Your planet was in the process of being assimilated into that empire. Any remaining dissidents would likely be killed with the same brutality that your army had been wiped out with. Your brows furrowed and the corners of your mouth turned down.

"Let's get to bed," he smirked. "Unless you have any objections?"

You shook your head before opening your mouth to speak. "Am I just going to go to bed in this?" you asked, gesturing to your robes that you'd come to know as common in the culture you had been dragged kicking and screaming into. Perturabo chuckled.

Before long, you were nestled next to him on that outlandishly large bed in a new set of robes. His arms were wrapped around you as if he were holding a small pillow. He trailed his hand along your small body, stopping ever so slightly at the bandage. You were limp in his arms, facing away from him.

"Those people out in the ship," you said. "What were they saying about me?"

"Nothing important," he replied.

"I still want to know what they said," you said, "even if it's not important."

"We can start your lessons in High Gothic tomorrow," he replied groggily. "Just lay here with me for now."

You turned over to face him. He was roughly twice your size, with eyes barely open. The wires sticking out of his head were dark against his pale skin, skin that you could barely see in the dark. His face was worn and weathered with years of war visible in scars and lines. You didn't know if it was because he was the first one to come into physical contact with you in a long while, but he looked almost peaceful.

You pulled him into your chest. "Alright," you said. You reached through the wires to the back of his neck, your chin resting on the top of his head. His large arms kept you close to him as you began to drift into the best sleep you'd had in a long while.

#warhammer 40k x reader #primarch x reader #perturabo x reader #reader insert #perturabo #warhammer lobotomy #i have brain worms. someone help me

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inkblot22 · 3 months

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Truss

Woohoo Malleus woohoo! I'm making the trigger list a bit bigger because I keep thinking about how people will totally skip reading it if it's too small and then blame the writer for their own mistake. That shit is clown behavior but I don't want to be held responsible for someone else's case of stupid, so sorry to those of you who think this looks clunky. Line divider found here: @/cafekitsune. This is also a fic that is wildly self-indulgent, in that I mean that while writing I visualized my own physical form and quirks.

That being said, this fic is written with afab (assigned female at birth) readers in mind. No pronouns other than you are used for the reader, but the reader does possess a womb. Reader's chest is not described in the least, just the lower bits, and even then it's not at length. Malleus also refers to the reader as "beauty," but masculine people can be beautiful too so idk but here's a warning anyways.

This fic is DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. TW for noncon, fae interaction rules used for said noncon, slight bullying if you squint, one (1) mention of blood (I'm beginning to think I have a problem.) Stay safe while reading. Possible OOC Malleus, I haven't read any of book 7 and if you spoil it I'll block you temporarily.

This is absolutely not your fault, and you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. It’s awful. Crewel was for sure his namesake, because this whole thing was a steaming pile of-

Alright, from the top, just to organize your thoughts: you are the only non-magic student in a school of mages. The teachers are mages. Your best friend/roommate/monster friend is a mage. The plants here can do magic, but you? No. Thanks homeworld. Love the gift of nothing.

Thus, the faculty have seemingly created a game of “how to piss off and challenge the magicless student,” in which they give you various tasks to just make you lose sleep. Vargas had you running laps until your legs felt like jelly, doing pushups until your shoulders started sounding like glowsticks. Trein had you learning completely off the wall trivia, such as what type of fabric the Queen of Heart’s favorite bathrobe was made of and why it made her more powerful. That’s nothing, it’s easy because you apparently have so much free time in their eyes. But Crewel? Fuck that man.

When you got the assignment, it sounded fun and exciting. He gave you seeds for a fast-growing rose thing. Honestly you weren’t paying attention to the name of it, but you retained what you needed to know. The plant only grew in moonlight, so you needed to cover it before you went inside at night. It needed a minimum of two hours of moonlight to grow per night. If the basket was overturned and it was exposed to the sun, then the plants would die. Moderate watering, no fertilizer, the usual.

Once the plants bloomed, you were supposed to take the flowers and make some kind of glamour potion, so here you are, failing at doing so. You only had four flowers, and you’re down to the last one. You wasted three tries and you still have no idea what the hell you’re doing wrong and it’s due next alchemy class and you’re breaking curfew on top of all of it. You glare into your cauldron with your latest failed attempt and hunker down to shoulder against the side so you can dump it out and try again.

“Oh, it’s you.”

The voice makes you jump out of your skin. You turn around and you almost want to cry tears of joy, because if anyone can help you, it’s him.

“When I saw a little head duck down, I thought that something strange was happening. A crime, perhaps.” Malleus smiles, and it’s not a kind smile, but you’ll take anything remotely positive at this point, “What are you doing on the floor, child of man?”

“Oh, I have to empty the cauldron.” You puff out, still trying to throw your weight to push the cauldron. You did it twice earlier, so this must be the effects of mental and physical fatigue.

“Oh, that’s right. Allow me.” Rather than waving a hand or anything, Malleus strolls on over and uncrosses his arms, taking one hand and pressing his fingertips against the lip of the cauldron. The whole damn thing tips, the failed mixture pouring out into the nearby drain. With the same ease, he tilts it back and turns to you.

When he looks at you, it’s… weird. You know he’s lizard-like, as dragons evidently are, but even Sebek’s eyes aren’t this jarring. They aren’t soulless or cold or unfeeling, but it feels like he is looking through you. His emotions don’t reflect in his eyes properly. That’s what it feels like. They reflect, but it’s wrong. Fractured. His lips quirk into a smile and you blink.

“Uh… wait, what are you doing out here, Tsunotaro?” You ask, turning to gather more materials, following the transcript of your recording from class.

His smile grows, “Just on a walk. Will you tell me what you’re trying to make?”

“Uh, yeah. This glamour potion? I don’t know. Remember how I was growing those flowers?”

“Of course. And what happened to the rest?”

“I… uh… I messed up the other potions. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong here.”

“No?”

“No. Do… do you think you could maybe… help me?”

“Of course.” Malleus plucks the flower up, twirling it thoughtfully, “Why don’t you gather the other ingredients?”

That was simple enough. Petals from your tediously grown blooms, some kind of floral oil with tiny white flowers inked on the label, a ball of clay no bigger than a pea, something that really resembled a severed finger, something that was hopefully just someone’s baby tooth, a handful of crystals in a rainbow of colors, and water. Lots of water. Malleus watches as you put all your ingredients on the nearby table and hums thoughtfully before dimming the lights and turning back to you.

“And where did you hear that you needed these things?” He asks. It’s not something that he says with any indication that you’re right or wrong. The tone is bland but the words say enough.

He has essentially told you before that he believes you inept, a babe in the woods when it comes to this sort of thing, but it doesn’t stop you from looking as hurt as you feel, “The headmage visited class and gave me some pointers?”

“You personally or the entire class? I don’t personally recall concocting anything like this when I was in your grade.” He says.

You suppose you’re grateful that he’s so blunt, but his flat tone makes the sting of your failure that much sharper. You thought he’d be nicer, since you two are sort of friends, and Lilia has told you that Malleus is fond of you, but it also makes just as much sense for him to refrain from easing up in his flatness because he supposedly thinks so much of you. He thinks you’re an idiot, but he’s not willing to treat you as such.

“The whole class. And no one else in my grade is doing this.” You mutter, staring at your assortment of items on the table.

He approaches the table and plucks up the beaker of water, twisting it in his hand, “Did you distill this?”

“What?”

“Tap water often has various minerals in it. If you haven’t been using distilled water, you’ve been adding an extra ingredient. Typically, most potions are much more forgiving and you can use tap water with little issue, but this particular potion is known to be disagreeable.” He murmurs, crossing the room with your beaker of water and setting it up to distill with a practiced ease. “That’s why it’s typically saved for fourth year students’ aptitude testing.”

The revelation hit you like a ton of bricks. You’d like to protest but it unfortunately makes sense. Malleus looks over at you, somewhat blandly, then turns around to face you, looking half concerned.

You answer his question before he can ask, “I didn’t… know that. I guess it’s my fault for being from a different world…”

His lips twitch into a smile, and for a moment you can see amusement in his eyes, fractured with the underlying coldness, “Oh, it isn’t. It may be your fault for failing to ask questions, but having someone who is unused to this type of work take on an advanced project is cruel.”

“You think so?” You ask, voice lilting with hope.

“Of course I do. Why you’re expected to make a potion of this caliber is beyond me.” Malleus states blankly.

“Uh, yeah. I- I don’t know either. But thank you for helping me!”

His expression flinches. It lasts for less than a second before it smooths into an odd grin. You’re not quite sure what that means, but you’re too happy to stop and think about it. The water finishes distilling and you carefully begin crafting, using the tips Malleus occasionally mumbles towards you. Don’t put that ingredient in yet, stir clockwise, you need to grind that up with the oil, don’t rush you have time, et cetera, et cetera, and then you have a gorgeous violet mixture, glimmering with a pearlescent golden sheen.

Your jaw drops. Somehow the few ingredients you threw together is enough to fill several bottles. Malleus is making a smug face as you rush to the shelves of empty bottles and choose several fluted bottles, quickly using a ladle to deposit the final, successful potion into the bottles. You’re so giddy with your success that you hardly notice as Malleus walks towards the door and locks it. But only hardly.

“What was that for?” You ask, not actually caring. You’re too happy to be worried.

“Oh, we’ll need privacy.” He responds.

That part confuses you enough into caring. You turn around from where you’ve safely wrapped the bottles and slipped them into your bag and shoot Malleus a frown, “Privacy? For what?”

Malleus doesn’t say anything. He walks over to the table and you feel your body stand up, void of your control, and stagger over to stand in front of him. If you were concerned before, you’re frightened now. Malleus looks down at you with his strange gaze and folds his arms.

“Wh-what’s happening?! Why can’t I move?”

“You really don’t know?” He asks. Something about his tone sounds mocking, but you’re certain he doesn’t mean it to be. It’s his version of sarcasm, he’s spoken to you like this before.

Your body hops up on the table, taking a seat, and Malleus turns to stand before you, looking down at you with a soft smile. You shift your hips- what the fuck is going on- and Malleus very gently hooks his hands in the pants of your dorm uniform.

Your dorm uniform is legit whatever the hell you want it to be, so it would change on the daily. Today it was a pair of jeans and a hooded jacket. He kneels to remove your shoes and stands back up, leaning close as he tilts your chin up. His breath fans over your lips.

“You didn’t tell me that you were so lovely beneath your clothes.” His hand on your chin shifted to your cheek, and his other hand laid flat on the table. “And… your smell is much stronger. Are you aroused?”

“You can’t just ask me that! I don’t know what you did but you’ve got to let me go.”

“I didn’t do anything. This is your doing.” He retorts, pecking your lips very chastely.

“What are you talking about?” When he didn’t respond, instead pressing the tips of his hand that was on the table against your exposed sex, your heart jumps but your body doesn’t move. You can’t, “Don’t do that!”

“Lilia informed me that making someone climax is similar to binding someone to you.” He mumbles, kissing you again as his fingers slowly slip inside. “It makes them fall in love with you. Isn’t that the most binding contract of all?”

You don’t know why he isn’t listening, but even less than that, you don’t know why he thought you could handle two fingers, much larger than your own, penetrating you. You squeal, but your body is incapable of tensing. Malleus pulls back, looking at you in a soft confusion.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“With me? What’s wrong with you? That’s too many- it’s uncomfortable!”

He blinks at you and withdraws a finger, which feels much better. You sigh. If you’re going to be forced to do this, you may as well not get hurt in the process. You close your eyes and Malleus hums.

“Is this better? You’ll have to forgive me. I haven’t had a dalliance with a human before.”

“I- I don’t think I’ll be able to… to forgive you for this.”

“No?” You can hear his smirk and the squelching noise as he pumps his finger gets louder. He slips the second finger in again and the burn isn’t so bad as last time, “Well, maybe you can decide that for certain after the wedding.”

“The wedd-” You have to bite your tongue to keep from moaning. Your body leans back, laying on the table, and your gentle assailant curls his fingers, leaning forward to mouth at your neck, “There’s not gonna be a motherfucking wedding. You’re-”

You can hear his horn scraping against the table, “Hmm. I didn’t think you were so entitled. You’re squeezing around my fingers. Are you close?”

“No!” You’re a liar. A ragged gasp leaves your throat and you feel the drop in the pit of your stomach, the burst of euphoria traveling up your spine as his thumb presses against your clit.

Malleus laughs, then leans up off of you. The sound of clothing hitting the ground is the first and only warning you get, but you can’t move, so it might as well have been silent. You feel something on your stomach, coming up about a half inch below your belly button. It’s… almost cool to the touch. You would think it would be warmer, but it’s not. Your eyes round as you stare at the ceiling, and Malleus’s face leans into view, his eyes boring into yours as though he’s reading your thoughts.

“You’re very warm. I’ve always thought this. You must be boiling inside.”

“I- what?”

He doesn’t respond, leaning back up. You feel the velvety head of his cock press against your entrance and as much as you want to jolt away, you can’t move your body. You can’t even look down to see what he’s doing. Your lashes flutter as the stretch sets in, the pressure worse than his two fingers. It burns, especially along the bottom, where his weight lays heavy thanks to gravity. You’re capable of wincing and letting out a whine, but nothing else.

“H-hey, that- that hurts.” You babble.

“Does it? You are squeezing me like a vice. I’ll stay still for a moment so you can relax some. Let me know when it stops hurting.” It’s very peculiar. Although he speaks with an animated tone, his voice is often detached. You would think he’d have more emotion since he’s inside of you.

You blink rapidly and decide that now is as good a time as any to ask, “What the hell is happening?”

“Must you tease me so?” He responds, his voice tense.

“What? I’m not teasing you. I can’t move!”

“Of course you can’t. You only just bound yourself to my will.”

“I what?” You shout.

“What, did you think I enslaved you? I could have, when we first met. You’re too free, giving people your name, thanking them, taking gifts freely… it drives me mad.” You feel a flash of heat, something warm rolling against your skin, like standing too close to a gas stove, “And now I find that you didn’t even know? I didn’t think you were such a fool.”

“That’s just called being polite!” You protest. “Oh my god-”

“I suppose I can’t blame you, really. Relax, lest I harm you.” He murmurs, rolling his hips further as though he can slide in deeper.

You squeak, “N-no, that’s-”

“Too much, yes. Tell me, in your world, do faefolk exist?”

“I- I mean, if they do, most people don’t believe in them.” The oddity of the situation felt like a blanket. Having a semi-conversation while your friend- not after this- used you as a dick holster. It was almost comforting. “I don’t- I don’t understand.”

His voice was deeper than normal, an underlying rasp to his voice, as though it was coming from somewhere deep in his throat, “I will explain. I’ll tell you anything you’d like to know. But after I explain, I will begin to move.”

“H-hey, no-”

His voice sounded choked, half strangled as he stifled a groan, “I apologize for not being clear earlier. Among the fae, verbal contracts are common and binding. You do not give someone your name. You wonder why I never directly gave you mine? It is a way to bind someone to your will. You do not accept gifts. Invitations are fine, but a gift is a sign that you owe someone something. My help- a boon- is a gift. Typically it is repaid with another kind turn. And, most importantly, you do not thank someone without the sufficient power to break their hold.”

You felt him draw back, that wave of heat rolling over you again, and then he slammed forward. The slick noise and dull smack were muffled by your squeal, his cockhead punching your cervix like it stole from him.

“Foolish little thing. I suppose it makes you cute.” He sneers, and your body sits up, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

The angle makes his motion a bit less painful. He’s no longer bumping against your cervix, thank the Seven, but the stretch remains. Your eyes flinch shut and Malleus tilts your chin up to kiss you again.

“St-stop- stop!” You whimper, “You’re hurting me!”

“If you would relax, beauty, that would not be a problem.” His chuckle is dark, the squelching from your coupling making a wicked duet that makes you feel dizzy, “And you said it to me so easily as well. Thank me again.”

“Wh-” One of his hands slipped under your hips, holding your bottom just under the split in your cheeks, and nipped your neck as a flat thumping echoed from where your bodies met, your legs bouncing with the motion. His member had gone back to bullying your cervix, and you wailed in the hopes that he would stop, “Thank you!”

“Heh… it escapes your lips so freely. Tell me, beauty-” He cut himself off with a grunt, panting against the column of your throat. “Tell me, what is it that you’d like? I would give you the world on a platter, should you want it.”

“I- ow! Y-you’re hurting me!”

There was a possibility that he was getting off on the pain he was causing you, just as much as there was a possibility of him not understanding that he was hurting you. With every motion of his hips against yours, despite the wicked pain, you felt that ever evil tug in your gut, like a stone growing heavier and heavier.

You tried again, because if this had to happen, if you were under his control now, you may as well not get injured. You would not be pissing blood if you could help it, “It’s too deep!”

He listened. It was odd, but he listened, his voice warming as he slid back a bit and continued ramming into you, but no longer beating the hell out of your internal organs.

“I didn’t realize. Is that better?” His voice sounded warmer, echoey against your shoulder. His teeth grazed over your skin again when you didn’t respond. He choked out your name and you sort of came back to yourself.

“U-uh- I guess?”

“Wonderful.” He mumbled, his free hand reaching between your bodies and slicked with your sweat, to tweak your clit.

It should be embarrassing, how quickly you reached your height. Whoever he had been with in the past couldn’t have been so sensitive, since you felt his body jerk against you, an uncontrolled undercurrent to his motions. You let out a quiet, squealing moan and barely even felt the break when Malleus bit you to muffle his own groan. You didn’t feel him climaxing inside of you. You felt the control return to your body and flopped backward onto the table, your hoodie damp with sweat. Malleus took a step back, then carefully redressed you, then himself. You looked up at him and saw nothing but adoration in his eyes, not the fractured appearance of such. It was like he was actually looking at you.

When he spoke to you, leaning forward to cup your cheek, his voice was warm, warmer than ever, “Now, let’s start planning for the wedding, my beauty.”

#twisted wonderland #tw: dark content #disney twst #tw: dark themes #tw: yandere #twst #malleus draconia #yandere malleus draconia x reader #tw noncon #tw bullying #fair folk #tw blood #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #yandere male x reader #cervix bruising #you cannot convince me that getting your cervix penetrated doesn't hurt like hell #Because getting it touched is just about the worst feeling i can think of next to getting stabbed #equal pain my friend

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yahoo201027 · 1 year

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Day in Fandom History: December 17…

After the events of “Reunited”, Steven try to convince both Blue and Yellow Diamond to cure the corrupted gems, but unable to do so and instead travels to Homeworld and try to convince a certain someone to complete the task. “Legs From Here to Homeworld” premiered on this day, 4 Years Ago.

#Day in Fandom History #4 Years Ago #Steven Universe #Season 5 #Episode 24 #Legs From Here to Homeworld #Cartoon #Animation

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nowhere-space · 2 years

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Steven Universe Season 5 Episode 25: Legs From Here to Homeworld

#steven universe #legs from here to homeworld #homeworld #gem homeworld #backgrounds #screenshots #my screenshots

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dindjarindiaries · 5 months

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Dincember - December 4: Lights

character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

prompt: Lights

main masterlist • dincember masterlist

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙

It was the tapping on your shoulder that woke you. Your chest inflated with a deep breath as you opened your eyes, expecting to see the tiny green child who'd only just recently become an official part of your small family. Instead, you saw Din, his brown gaze full of light even in the darkness of the room.

You'd do anything to keep it that way.

"Din?" Your voice was coated in shared exhaustion and disbelief as you yawned. The chrono read an absolutely unspeakable time of the night. "What is it?"

"I have to show you something." The excitement you saw in Din's gaze was reflected in his voice, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He was fully armored, as if he'd suited up just for the occasion. You know he must've.

"Right now?"

"It'll be quick." Din kissed your forehead. "I don't want to keep you up for long."

You nodded, stretching before you let Din take your hand to support you as you stood from the bed. You threw on a few more comfortable pieces of clothing before you let Din guide you out of your bedroom. He stopped to grab Grogu, who remained sound asleep in the nook of his father's arm as Din slid on his helmet and walked outside to the N-1. "We can't all fit in here," you reminded him.

"We can squeeze. We're only staying on-world." Din got into the pilot's seat first and let you sit second, sitting half on his lap and half on the actual seat as Grogu slept in. your arms. He started up the ship and set one hand upon the side of your thigh, giving it a gentle and reassuring squeeze. "Comfortable?"

"That's one word for it." Your voice was coated in affection as you squeezed his hand back. "Can you even see?"

"Mostly." The canopy hissed closed before Din took the N-1 up into the air, remaining at a slow speed as he cruised towards the town. You blinked away whatever sleepiness you could and waited for Din's cue. "We're almost there."

"Already?"

"I told you we weren't going far." Din slowed down the speed of the starfighter even more, soon pointing to something through the transparisteel. "Look. Do you see that collection of lights?"

You followed his finger and smiled at what you saw. There were a few connected homes draped in beautiful bright lights, some woven together in patterns and others simply a lovely mess. "They're beautiful."

"We used to do this on my homeworld." Din gushed to you like never before, making your chest constrict as you hung on his every word. "At a certain time of the cycle, the whole town would adorn their homes with lights. My mother and father would take me on walks at night to look at them all."

You managed to maneuver yourself enough in the small cockpit to face his helmet, your smile even wider than before. "That sounds wonderful."

"I would do the same with our home," Din went on, "but... our goal is to stay under the radar."

You nodded at him. "Understandable."

Din set his one gloved hand on your thigh once again, his thumb brushing over it as his visor looked towards the lights. "I'm sorry for waking you. I just..." he paused, taking a deep and meaningful breath, "I wanted to continue the tradition with my own family."

You held his helmet and urged it against your forehead. "Thank you." You put as much meaning into the words as you could. "Let's see those lights in person tomorrow."

Din's helmet fully straightened in hardly concealed excitement. "Really?"

You giggled and nodded. "Really."

Din returned your nod. "Okay." He turned the ship around so fast it forced you against his cuirass. "We should go back home and get some rest, then."

You laughed and gave his armored leg a squeeze. "Agreed."

#oh to see din djarin happy like this!!!#dincember 2023 #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #prompts #dindjarindiaries

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they-bite · 2 years

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Aight, I'll ask. Monsters vs. Aliens with Megamind? If it's not too much trouble?

It's more of a fan theory than like a fic idea or anything, and I'm surely not the first person to mention this, but two other ppl asked about it so I digress --

Quick recap of the first couple minutes of Megamind: Megamind (and Metroman) were both shuttled off of dying planets by their parents a la Superman. Megamind was also given Minion, a fish with some kind of satellite implant, and told Minion would "take care of him".

Minion's existence here implies two things: one, that Megamind's planet hosted more species than just the blue humanoids Megamind is a member of; and two, that these species (as well as whatever other species existed with them) have a hierarchal relationship. Given that Megamind's planet is also very blue, and what little architecture we see is wide-open and curvilinear, we can also theorize a bit about Megamind's species being amphibious or semi-aquatic. Megamind's incredible intellect and predisposition to engineering also seems to have a precedent on his homeworld: a supercomputer and some out-of-focus machinery are shown in close proximity to baby Megs' crib, implying that his people were a highly industrial species relying on advanced technology.

Now consider Gallaxhar's design from Monsters vs. Aliens.

Distended cranium, blue (indigo, but still) skin, purplish flush on his ears implying red blood and black eyebrows – all features Megamind's species has. He's even got the glittery white clothing and high collar that Megamind's parents wear. Now of course, Gallaxhar also has considerably different features – he's in the 7-8 foot range, his head is much taller than those of Megs' species, four eyes instead of two, and six tentacles instead of two legs. It's highly possible that hierarchal scale, larger craniums and extra limbs/eyes were prized features on Megamind's world – more brainpower and ability to multitask, which are both ideal in industrial cultures.

So extrapolating off of our theories on Megamind's planet, it's possible that Gallaxhar is of a species that dominated over Megamind's before their planet was destroyed.

Consider, further, this bit of Gallaxhar's backstory:

Now, Megs' planet was pulled into a black hole, it didn't have the relatively easier destruction of a core meltdown. But we're never given a good ceiling for the abilities at Gallaxhar's disposal, and "destroyed" could mean anything from "I caused a black hole to happen" to "I knew it was happening and decided not to warn anybody". (You could go with the latter option if you wanted the Superman callbacks in Megs' backstory to hold out.)

What does this mean for Megs? Personally I'm given to think the events of Monsters vs. Aliens happened before the events of Megamind, since MvA came out a year before. And Megamind seems to have eidetic (or at least very clear) memory of his homeworld – I wouldn't put it past him to have scrounged the wreckage of Gallaxhar's ship both for parts and for answers about himself.

Especially where his de-gun comes in. What is that blue glowing stuff it uses, anyway?

Trace quantonium, perhaps?

Other ideas for an actual crossover are as follows:

-A legal loophole of some sort prevents Area Fifty-Something from appropriating Megs and Minion since they were already in federal incarceration (The Metro City Prison warden and General Monger have had more than a few annoyed calls over the years)

-Roxanne and Derek are related (they have similar coloring, slim figures and squared-off jawlines. Derek is like, Roxie's cousin who's unashamedly trying to replicate her success) or they at the very least know of each other

-In the same vein of thinking, Roxie taking Susan out to lunch sometime

-Megamind & Dr. Cockroach team up (but quickly get more preoccupied with Minion becoming drinking buddies w the Missing Link)

-Somehow I want B.O.B. and Metroman to meet and B.O.B. fucking loves MM's music. They're himbo kings

-Also B.O.B. reading Hal to filth

-Again, I don't have like, actual fic ideas for this, but I do at some point want to draw Susan holding Megs in the palm of her hand because that would be incredibly cute.

#megamind #monsters vs. aliens #gallaxhar #susan murphy #crossover #what should i call this if it ever comes up again #mm x mva #yeah that'll do #answers #ids in alt text

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