#revolver golden gods | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

noisilyscreechingsong · 1 year

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As the (for a lack of a better word) god of balance and space, and being a halfa that is arguably immortal, Danny has the rare opportunity to reincarnate. Live again. Start over.

When Clockwork had originally told him he was immortal, he (understandably) assumed he meant he, Danny Fenton, could not die. He was wrong. As usual. Instead, it was that he, his soul, could not parish or cease to exist. Two very different things that he was forced to learn through experience when Danny Fenton died at the age of 64 from a car accident as mundane as that is, and ended up in the Ghost Zone to, presumably, ‘live’ the rest of his afterlife. It wasn’t until later when he fell asleep in his lair (first sign something was happening, ghosts don’t need to sleep) and woke up with his head fuzzy and body clumsy. He was a baby and it wasn’t until his mind was old enough to comprehend who he was that he understood he was living life again, this time as child in a different universe and different time.

And when he died again, this time very young from a sickness traveling through his village, he ended up in his lair again, as if he never left. The other ghosts understood after a brief explanation, but the process was still disorienting. Even if it happened again and again.

This time he was born into an odd place. He awoke from a large tube of green liquid. He had a mother named Talia and a Grandfather. He also had a father and older brother named Damian, but they lived in a different country and weren’t really on speaking terms it seemed. It also appeared he was born into a cult of some kind. Mother called it the League of Assassins and Grandfather called it his Legacy, the organization he built from the ground up. Oh and it all revolved around the green, bubbling pit below their home that had resurrection powers that may or may not make someone insane.

A connection to the dead in the basement, a family business, and a Frootloop with too much power. This was turning out to be a lot like his first life.

It’s the assassinations that bother him. He’s fine with killing to protect himself and to protect others. He’s even fine with mercy killings, but to kill someone who is unarmed and can’t even put up a fight is crossing a line.

Grandfather doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like a lot of what Danny does. He talks back too much, he doesn’t follow orders, he has too much of an imagination, he has a weak stomach and can’t see the big picture, he’s never good enough. He’s also compared to his big brother Damian a lot. He’s never even met the guy but knows he has a better fighting stance and climbed the mountain faster when he was Danny’s age. Danny doesn’t know if he wants to met Damian at all after hearing his name every time Grandfather criticizes him. The only thing Damian is to him is a standard to exceed.

And don’t get him started on his Father. Mother brags about him enough, but he’s obviously not here for a reason. He stole Damian from the family, Grandfather says, his golden heir. Danny is just the spare, filling in for his older brother who doesn’t want to come home. Of course, he takes everything with a grain of salt. Danny’s family also brainwashes and conditions people to follow them and die for them, it’s all twisted and manipulative. However, there’s bound to be some truth woven in there somewhere and it doesn’t look good for his biological father.

When Danny becomes the Demon’s Head, and with everything he’s been training for he WILL be the Head, the first thing he’s doing is cutting Grandfather’s head right off his shoulders and feeding it to the dogs. He’ll run this cult thing with actual morals and better management. Not too much change because then his position will be questioned, but over time he’ll bring about some good outcomes.

He does think his family believes they are doing things for the greater good, he just thinks they’ve lost sight of what’s important.

Danny’s not even bothered with not having a normal childhood. He’s lived it once or twice, it was quiet, nice, but ultimately boring. He enjoys the adventure and thrives on the action. He gets excited when he learns a new weapon and celebrates when he finally perfects that technique he’s been practicing. He’s proud when his mother compliments his precise aim in her own weird roundabout way of speaking and is awfully smug when Grandfather doesn’t say a word of criticism when he slaughters his opponents efficiently.

He has a crazy family, but it’s his. So it comes to no surprise that he feels a little unbalanced when his mother takes him to Gotham after some political tension between Grandfather and some group he’s not important enough to know.

He’s seven and has lived this entire life in Nanda Parbat, only visiting the other League locations a few times, where the weather is warm and the air is clean. Gotham is the opposite of his home. He remembers a life in Chicago, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the permanent smog covering the sky. Even if it was clear, the light pollution would hinder his view of the stars.

He already hated this place and was actively counting down the minutes until they could leave. Although he had a suspicion of why they were here. The tight lines beside his mother’s eyes gave away her reluctance, but her confident stance didn’t falter.

Danny watches as she meets with a man in a black superhero suit and what looks like a teenager in a different uniform. The pieces were finally coming together when Mother calls him to come out and he drops from the rafters to land on his feet like a cat.

Their two visitors stare hard at him and if he was in a different life he might have fidgeted under their intense attention. He does not.

“My son, this is your father and older brother.”

“Mother,” the teen- Danny’s brother, Damian, objects, “since when do I have a brother? Have you adopted like Father?”

In response, Danny pulls down the black mask to show the rest of his face and the clear resemblance between the two. Danny had more blue mixed with his green eyes to give a marbled effect and he had his mother’s jaw line but he still had his father’s lips and- actually that was all he could see, the cowl obstructing the rest of his features. Either way, there was no mistaking Danny and Damian as anything but brothers.

“Damian, meet your brother. I hope the two of you will get along and look out for one another.”

Like hell they will, Danny thinks bitterly. He’s spent pretty much this whole life being compared to the boy in front of him, there’s bound to be some resentment on his part.

“I thought he’d be taller,” he tells his mother, eyeing Damian up and down unimpressed.

Damian actually sputters.

“Talia,” his father says, demands, as if asking twenty questions in that one word.

“You will care for him while I’m away. It isn’t safe for him and I have work to do.”

Danny knew it was coming and yet he still felt the squeeze of panic and betrayal in his chest.

“Mother, don’t leave me here,” he almost whines but just manages to keep his voice steady. “I can stay in Switzerland or the Alps or somewhere else that is not here.”

Mother says his name with that amount of sharpness that lets him know she wasn’t changing her mind. He huffs angrily and glares at the two in front of him like it was their fault his was here in this disgusting city.

They don’t talk for much longer before Danny is following them back to a black suped-up car and Mother is nowhere in sight. The ride is silent, the others’ thoughts loud and leaving the vehicle suffocating.

Danny decides to make the process difficult for them, arguing when they ask for a blood sample to confirm, getting into things he clearly shouldn’t when he got bored, and being a little shit to anyone else that shows up in his path.

He knew nothing of this side of his family, his Mother only telling him how strong and honorable his father is and how proud she is of Damian despite his decision to not become the Demon’s Heir. This was his opportunity to watch and learn and maybe test their patience here and there. He didn’t want to be there, they didn’t want him there, so he was going to make this everyone’s problem and maybe formulate his own opinion of his father and brother in the meantime.

It doesn’t take much for him to tolerate the others Father has brought into his side of the family because he had no prior knowledge of them.

He respects Alfred, he can relate to Tim, Dick is a pun master that Danny can’t help but contribute, Jason is too cool not to like, Cass is kind, Steph is bubbly, Duke is probably the most normal, and Selina has a mischievousness to her that Danny can get behind.

Father is gruff. He always looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t. Danny isn’t used to that. Mother and Grandfather and even himself have the position of power to say what they want without much consequence. What’s stopping him?

It gets to a point where Danny snaps and demands he speak his mind or say what he’s feeling. It doesn’t go well but he thinks there might have been some progress in the days afterwards.

Damian is a different story. Danny doesn’t hate his brother, but he certainly doesn’t like him. He makes a point to show it through pranks on the older boy and trying to outplay him in competitions and bets the other sometimes doesn’t even agree to.

Danny can admire how passionate he is in his art and how devoted he is to caring for his animals, and even how much he reminds him of Sam from his first life, but it doesn’t erase the years of feeling less than the perfect first son.

This doesn’t really change until Damian comes back and goes directly to the medbay after a mission gone wrong. It takes Danny a moment to realize that he’s worried for his big brother. Damian is in pain and Danny does not like it. He wants to go out and kill the men who hurt his brother, make them pay for what they’ve done. He wants to be the one to stitch up his wounds and bring him soup.

It’s truly unfortunate that his obsession is protection, particularly around those he considers friends and family.

Danny tones down on the aggression towards Damian after that. He still pranks the teenager and teases him and challenges him to competitions and duels, but it’s more in a brotherly way than showing resentment. Damian definitely notices, but wisely doesn’t address it. Instead, Damian quietly talks about what he remembers and misses of Nanda Parbat when the two of them are alone, both of them actually having a conversation without raised voices or tense shoulders.

After a while Danny doesn’t even realize he isn’t counting the days anymore.

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lxvvie · 7 months

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More goofball shit featuring your faves. This time it revolves around this scenario: your lover is away, you're winding down for the day, and it's that time of the week when you do your face mask. They FaceTime you (or you them, depending), you answer with the mask on, and... reactions may vary. Or something like that.

Capt. John Price - The old man is actually nonplussed about it, if only because you got him the first time he talked to you with your mask on and he damn near had a heart attack. Dropped his cigar in his lap and everything.

Gaz - "Hey, love—oh, shit—!" The call disconnects and you're laughing your ass off. You got him back for pranking you and made damn well sure you were in the dark before you answered him.

Alex Keller - He was tired and wanted to send his love before he got some shut-eye for a bit. Then he saw you and was jolted back awake. Kinda. What really happened was that he spent the next couple of seconds looking crazy as shit and wondering if that was really you. Got his confirmation when he heard your voice. Hell yeah, his ass needs some sleep.

Soap - Kinda sulks in Golden Retriever because he would really like to partake in the goodness that is skincare with you because he really needs to de-stress, his skin isn't doing too good this time around, and you're wearing one of his shirts—how could you tease him like that?! Sulks even more when he finds out you're using the Aloe Vera mask this time, too.

Ghost - You know that one person who you FaceTime and y'all just spend a few minutes looking at each other? That's you and Ghost. His mask is up past his lips so you see the stubble—god, you miss the way it brushes against your inner thigh—and he's just... staring at you. Placidly. And you're staring at his lips him. Not-so-placidly. "Nice mask, lovie," Ghost breaks the silence, and you: "Better than yours, Simon?" He snorts good-naturedly, "Not even close." Cheeky bastard.

Alejandro - Has one of the most anti-climatic reactions ever. Doesn't even miss a beat with whatever it is he's doing and tells you to get some much-needed rest. Also mentally makes a note to take you up on your offer of getting a face mask once he gets home.

Rudy - Stops himself mid-laughter. Tries to hold it in. Busts out laughing. This was after he was startled because how else was he supposed to deal with the nervous energy? "What's so funny, Rodolfo?" Oh, shit, he knows that tone—

König - König.exe is in overdrive because you're using the sheet mask he bought for you. You can't see the goofy smile but you see the way his eyes crinkle. He'll be riding this high for a couple days, give or take. You'd give a smile in return but with the way the mask is practically plastered to your face...

Horangi - He's the one who bets that you'll fall asleep with it on. Bullshit. You were just resting your eyes because you had to keep it on for 20-30 minutes.

Graves - Doesn't even bother to react because he's seen you with a face mask on more often than not. Does pull this stunt though: "Say hey to the guys, darlin'. Wish 'em luck." And there you are in all of your skin-care glory for them to see. You awkwardly say hey and one sweet soul awkwardly waves back. Go to hell, Phillip.

Valeria - Turns out she loves her some face masks as well and y'all could be twinning, babes. And then she finds out which one you're using. "Huh. Sounds familiar. That wouldn't happen to be one of the ones I purchased, would it?" Oh, look at the time, gotta run—

Roach - Hits you with the thumbs up. Until you tell him you got one just for him, too. Uh...

Keegan - Spends the better part of your conversation wondering if you're okay (if the way he keeps staring intensely is any indication) because there can only be one masked mess in this relationship and it sure as hell shouldn't be you. You then had to give him a crash course in skin care.

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wenigstenshabeichesversucht · 2 months

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Golden Hour

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!Reader

Summary: Everything Luke did was out of love for you

Warnings: Ominous Foreshadowing, english is not my native language

Word Count: 979

The sun was slowly going down and the camp was buzzing with life. Around Luke, campers were rushing around, everyone was trying to finish their afternoon activities before it was time for dinner. But he only had eyes for you. You, who were sitting with a few other campers, a guitar in your lap and glowing like the sun. With your sun-kissed skin and your smile brighter than the star you all revolved around, nobody could doubt that you were Apollo's daughter. Of course, he couldn’t help to gravitate to you like the earth did to the sun. You were his sun.

For a short moment, doubt overwhelmed him. Finally, you seemed happy. But in a world like this, your happiness wouldn’t last unless he took care of it personally. Therefore, he had to do it. He had to do it for you. Because he remembered. He remembered the many months you were struggling in the Hermes Cabin, still unclaimed, asking yourself, far too often, why you weren’t worth it. Back then, seeing your self-doubt had destroyed a part of Luke. He always had known that you were worth more than the gods could ever give you. And, it seems, like he had to take matters in his own hands.

He could only hope that someday you would understand his motivations. However, even if you didn't, at least you would have a better life. And that was enough for him. You had already given him more than he ever hoped for since arriving at camp. He would always remember it, like he remembered your arrival.

You were lost, figuratively speaking. Three days ago, some guy, half boy, half goat had told you, your father was a god, and now you were hunted down by monsters. Of course, first, you didn’t believe him. But the evidence was speaking for itself, and after you barely escaped a monster attack with your life, you couldn't deny it anymore.

When you finally reached Camp Half-blood, a sanctuary for kids like you, you were so relived, that you didn’t die, that you felt like crying. So, this was what you did. You started to cry ugly, fat tears were streaming down your face while you gasped for air.

This was how Luke found you. And even with fourteen years, he found your beauty rivalling Aphrodite’s. Not that he would ever say that out loud, gods were merciless when it came to things like that.

He took you under his wings. In a world where you felt like an intruder, he gave you a home. It quickly became clear that you were not a child of Hermes. Living in the far too full cabin, you couldn’t help but feel out of place. They told you, all you had to do was find the thing you were good at, and your father would claim you. But days, then weeks, then month went by, and you stayed at the Hermes cabin. The only thing that kept you sane was your friendship with Luke.

But luck wasn’t on your side, and Luke had to go on a mission. Following the god’s wishes, he left you behind. Many nights, you cried yourself to sleep, feeling worthless. Until after 7 months, your father finally took pity on you.

Luke barely managed to get back from his mission. The cut he received had become inflamed. He didn’t remember how he got back to camp, but when he opened his eyes, he thought he had died and ended in the Elysium.

Your face was hovering over him, and you were glowing. Gently, your fingers were working their way over his wound and Luke needed a moment to realize, that you were healing him.

“Welcome back, hero”, you whispered when you saw that he was finally awake. “I missed you.”

Probably not more than he missed you. But he didn’t say it. Instead, he chose another topic.

“Looks like he finally claimed you”, his words made a happy smile form on your lips. However, Luke wasn’t happy. He could only think about, how he would miss your presence in the Hermes Cabin and at the dinner table.

Back in the present, you finished the lesson. Giving the guitar to one of your siblings, you made your way to Luke. You were so much more than his best friend, but he had never talked about his feelings for fear of complicating things. However, everything would soon change, and he would have to leave.

“Walk with me?”, he asked and with hesitation you agreed.

Without thinking, his feet led him to the lake, where the sun kissed the water on the horizon.

“Something is bothering you”, you broke the silence, after a moment of just watching the sunset.

Taking a deep breath, Luke tried to calm his nerves. All these years he hadn’t mustered up the courage, but from today on this would all be in the past.

“Some things will change in the near future, but I want you to know, that my feelings about you will never change.”

“Your feelings about me?”, you echoed surprised, and instead of an answer, Luke did the one thing, which he had been waiting for since he was 14 years old. He kissed you. You did what he always dreamed of, you kissed him back.

“Everything I do, I will do for you. I would fight for you, I would lie for you, and I would die for you”, Luke whispered against your lips, after you interrupted the kiss to gasp for air.

“I love you too”, that was all he wanted to hear. Looking down at you, the last sunbeams of the day were illuminating your face, he couldn’t help but think, that you were his golden hour. But now the night was starting, and he could only hope, that tomorrow the sun would rise again.

#luke castellan #pjo tv show #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan fluff #pjo #pjo series

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arieswritez · 5 months

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golden boy

golden boy | yandere stepbrother!mark grayson x afab!reader

cw; DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI!! pseudo-incest, panty thief!mark, roofies, victim blaming, non-con video taping, voyeurism, rape, reader's anatomy is sexualized, forced breeding, time skip (mark is an adult & nolan never killed the guardians), mark is a sicko you've been warned

about; life was easier when mark was an only child. he wishes it would've stayed that way. (1.9k words)

a/n; an anon asked about a platonic yan sibling duo so i raise you: big pervy step bro who hates your guts but also wants to rearrange them

step brother mark who's used to being the light and joy of the grayson home. as the only child, he's spoiled beyond belief. he's spunky and cute and the graysons love him to death, constantly showering him with love and adoration.

step brother mark who gets a new sibling after villains make you an orphan. nolan finds you in the ruins and it's like he's on auto-pilot: carrying you to that secret hospital and handing you off to the doctors that rush to his aid. . but not before your tiny fist closes in his suit.

as he watches you being taken away, barely alive, something inside his chest pangs.

debbie notices nolan acting strange. he's restless and he's late for dinner, more so than usual. something's very clearly wrong. and it's not like her to grow suspicious of nolan but she does.

nolan's never given her a reason to believe his head may have been turned but for some reason, she starts to believe there might be someone else.

only to find he's been visiting you at the hospital, staying at your bedside for hours on end as you recover. you're in bad shape. doctors aren't sure how you survived. . if you even will. debbie's never seen nolan so torn over a survivor before. he's seen many things: deaths, disasters, you name it. yet, you're who's causing the sleepless nights.

of course, debbie has a kind heart and, soon, it's not just nolan who's worried. the graysons keep tabs on you. and when you come to, they’re the first thing you see.

you look confused, scared, but as nolan soothes you, you offer a meek smile and nolan finds himself feeling that same giddiness he felt when he first saw a tiny mark cradled in debbie's arms.

the graysons become your legal guardians and, suddenly, mark isn't the golden boy anymore.

you take up so much of their attention. now, christmases and birthdays all revolve around you. suddenly, marks good grades and the fact he hit a home run isn't all that impressive. mark's late for his baseball practice and games more times than he can count. . yet they never miss your dance recitals.

you got an A in an absurdly easy class and that was a cause for celebration. in the meantime, mark won a spelling bee & all he got was a 'good job'.

they treat you like you're made of glass, like you'll shatter into a million tiny pieces the second someone so much as looks at you the wrong way. mark still remembers being reprimanded whenever he said the smallest things to you. he doesn't think he's ever lived down that one orphanage joke that made you bawl. god, he was just kidding. . its not his fault you're sensitive.

soon, you're calling his parents 'mom and dad'. and worse of all, they reiterate the fact that you should be calling mark your 'big brother'.

fucking fantastic.

you are everything to them while mark is pushed aside. and it only worsens the older the two of you get. mark gets his powers - there's literally nothing more impressive than that - yet he still has to do a million and one things in order to outshine you. nothing ever works. and despite the fact that mark is - quite literally - saving lives. . your stupid birthday is still more important.

you are the light of their lives and mark bitterly remembers when they used to look at him that way, too.

you are perfect in their eyes. just like he once was.

and mark wishes you would've died in that accident, just like your parent(s).

as you start to develop a sense of self, mark gets into the habit of stealing your clothes. it's the only thing you seem to care about: the way you present yourself to the world.

they're small things at first. like a single shoe when his parents had bought you new ones yet refused to get him the ones he wanted. he'll admit it, it was petty and spiteful. but you were distressed and the graysons seemed upset you'd already misplaced your brand new - expensive - shoes.

at first, he was content with telling himself that what he was doing was solely to spite you. but that was a lie. when his kleptomania made him steal one of your shirts. . it wasn't spite that made him press the material to his nose and pump his cock until he came. no, it wasn't just spite.

all your simpering and whining, following him around like some lost puppy, that one time you asked him why he hated you so much. . it made him feel more than just hate.

he didn't know what to do with you then.

so, at first, he settled with stealing your clothes.

a couple more shirts.

a pair of shorts.

knee-highs or your favorite tights.

and finally, a pair of panties.

his favorite are a lacy pair. sheer and tiny, he recalls lifting them out of your drawer with a finger. . and thinking, seriously? what're these even meant to cover?

he's extremely sure you aren't supposed to have these~

mark is content with secretly stealing your things. he doesn't get in trouble for being mean to you anymore.

you don't think he hates you.

it's a win-win situation, really.

and mark would've been happy - he would've been fine - with the little game he's been playing. soon, the two of you would part ways for college and he'd forget all about you.

he'd forget the way you'd foolishly walk to your room in only a towel when you knew the two of you were home alone.

he'd forget the way you looked when you changed out of clothing, you never truly believed in fully closing the door, did you?

he'd forget the way your moans sounded, when you touched yourself at night, thinking everyone else was asleep. he'd forget the way he'd concentrate on hearing your pretty sounds - and it's not like he'd have to try hard, another perk of having powers.

he'd forget about how he could almost envision you: humping your fingers and biting at your lip, desperately trying to get yourself off. it was like he was in the room with you. . you were so wet he could hear the wet clicks of your cunt.

he'd forget all about you.

you, you, you.

he was sure of it.

but if it's one thing about you is that you could never just let things be.

you could never just let the graysons be a normal, happy family.

and you could never just let mark forget about you.

because the first time his parents say no to you - the very first fucking time - you don't listen.

you're just not used to it.

that stupid party you weren't supposed to go to.

that stupid party mark sneaks off to, too.

and when you see him there, you're surprised.

he pretends to be, too.

because it's not fair if only one of you was forbidden to go. no, you had to fuck it up for the both of them.

it's a good thing you're so spoiled, though. and it's even better that mark eavesdropped on the conversation you had with your friend, the one in which you planned to sneak out.

you're so fucking naive. so stupid.

you think the two of you are finally getting along when he gets you a drink and whispers, don't worry, i won't tell if you don't. and you laugh and wink at him like you'll keep his secret, drinking from whatever concoction he's prepared for you.

you were too young when your parent(s) passed and the graysons never seemed to sit you down for the talk. . or maybe they did and you were just too stupid to understand why you should never accept an open drink.

it's easy to blame it on you being a lightweight. the way you sway and slur your words, the way you stumble into him, the way your body overheats.

you've had too much to drink. you're not used to it, is all. he'll take care of you, don't you worry, big brother always does.

first, he's got to lay you down, you poor thing.

he doesn't want you to hurt your pretty little head by falling!

so, he lays you down in the empty room of the house as the party continues downstairs. as you fall to the bed in a heap, you swear you can see the throbbing beat of the music, now muffled behind the closed door.

in the dark room, the moonlight leaking through the pale blue blinds look like drunken undulations, wavering like heat shimmers, yet you can't keep your eyes open long enough to ogle at them. your body doesn't feel like your own, but you're not as nervous as you should be.

mark yanks his shirt off over his head - practiced, ready - and stalks over to your semi-limp body that's nearly hanging off the bed.

it's not hard to undress you, considering you're dressed like some cheap slut. and, honestly, if it wasn't mark that night, he's sure it would've been another dude at the party. the way you're such a fucking tease, he doesn't think anyone would be able to keep their hands off of you for long.

so, really, it's only fair your older brother is the one to get his hands on the goods, first. afterall, he was there to watch them grow.

the little camcorder he took from his parents - the old silver one they used to record all their trips around the world, mark's first steps, your first birthday with them - blinks red, on and off, on and off, as he strips you. he makes sure to capture your body: your bare tits as your chest rises and falls with each panicked breath, the smooth skin of your tummy, then down, between your legs, as he records your sopping cunt taking his fingers.

you mewl and your vision's swimming. and you feel here, there, everywhere, and it's so, so confusing.

you don't know what's happening and it's distressing because you know something is.

your hands weakly try to push at the foreign body on top of you. . inside of you. . but mark is stronger than anyone will ever be and you are far too drugged to do anything about it.

they're gonna be so mad, mark thinks, as he slides into you and tries to keep the camera recording the way your cunt grips him as he feeds his cock inside of you.

they'll be so mad when they find out you've snuck out.

and maybe you'll tell them. . you think something happened. . someone did something to you. . when you try to wash his cum out of your pussy.

maybe you won't. maybe you shouldn't. they'll already be mad at you, best keep quiet about it~

but the graysons will feel even worse in the next few months. . when you start puking your guts out.

and like the perfect parents they are, they'll take you to a doctor. . only for the results to come back positive.

mark may not be a golden boy, anymore.

but in nine months, maybe you'll give him one, instead 💗

#mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #invincible #invincible x reader #yandere mark grayson #yandere mark grayson x reader #mark is canonically a good brother #& we love him for that!!#but he's a weirdo in my universe <3

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artificial-transmutations · 6 months

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Idea: My fantasy is to be forcibly transformed from a young, affluent, VERY clean, well-educated, well groomed, well dressed white corporate executive into a VERY dirty uneducated garbageman. I must be forced to surrender my corporate career, my car, my office, my name, my money, my expensive formal business suit and tie, my wristwatch and polished black dress shoes and even my dress socks, along the way to my new real life.

Boardroom to trash bins

You glance at the golden watch on your left wrist and decide to walk a little faster.

You are not late - yet - but the board meeting is too important to be late to. Of course, on the other hand, you can't walk so fast that you would break a sweat. The thought alone of arriving at meeting room with beads of sweat on your forehead or, God forbid, a damp spot on your dress shirt is even worse than coming a minute or two late. That, at least, you can blame on the traffic, which is not even wrong. Your expensive German car has been stuck behind a garbage truck for a good ten minutes. Inacceptable, of course. You would expect the city to schedule such annoying but probably necessary services at night, when there is no traffic that could be slowed down by it.

After all, you have a reputation to uphold! You are Jameson Pierce, son of the millionaire and successful investor James Pierce. You are also the owner and CEO of one of the most prominent investment companies, Pierce&Co.

You have the best business education money can buy and your decisions influence the fate of thousands of employees of yours. You don't arrive late to board meetings like that!

Still, there is no reason to get agitated yet. If the lift is free, you will arrive perfectly on time.

As you quickly make your way over the office parking lot that is being overshadowed by the 50 story skyscraper you own, you almost collide with an old man in a blue uniform, who is blocking the way into the building by picking up refuse from the ground. Apparently, the wind has knocked over the garbage can next to the entrance, and all the contents have scattered on the pavement. The old man is just bending down to pick up the cans and garbage bags and put them back in the bin.

"Out of the way!" you blurt. Usually, you are nicer to your employees by just curtly ignoring them, but this old man is blocking your way and moves slow as a snail.

"Of course, sir, right away!" he says with a toothless smile, and you almost gag. The old man is disgusting! He looks as if he has been sleeping on the street, and the smell of booze emanating from him makes that assumption very likely. You briefly wonder if he even works for you and decide that if so, he needs to be disciplined for his appearance.

However, you are interrupted by his next sentence.

"I just need to pick up all that garbage here. You could help, sir, that would make it quicker."

What? This filthy old drunkard dares to ask you for help? The audacity!

"Out of my way!" you repeat and push the old man aside. You are now standing directly in front of the revolving door, ready to enter your company's building. Behind you, you can hear the old man mumbling something and then start cackling, like a maniac.

You shrug it off. The man is lucky you don't have time for that right now, as you carefully navigate through the scattered items on the ground. You need to be extra careful not to ruin your thousand dollar shoes or dress pants by stepping into something sticky and foul-smelling.

Even if you weren't in a hurry, there's no way Jameson Pierce would bend down to pick up garbage. You are reasonably proud to have never touched anything that has been in a bin - that's what employees are for, not managers like you.

The board meeting continues as bad as the day had started. It is way too warm in the meeting room and you can't prevent a single drop of sweat forming on your forehead. Of course, you wipe it away with your silk handkerchief and hope nobody has noticed, but that's not the only thing going wrong. Twice in your report, you find yourself at a loss of words. Instead of using the correct technical term, you have to verbally set back half a sentence and explain what you mean in simpler words. How very, very embarrassing.

It comes as no surprise that, when the meeting is finally over, you are in a particularly bad mood. Sadly, the old man from before has left, otherwise you would have fired him on the spot as a therapeutic action.

On the way to your car, you call your secretary to cancel all further appointments today, but as you try to ring the number, you just get the message that no connection could be made.

Just great. So, your office phone system has broken down as well. Angrily, you get in your car to drive over to your office yourself.

You don't get very far. Halfway on the way to your office, there is a grinding noise from the engine and then, your car just stops. Right in the middle of the street. You almost can't believe your bad luck. Angrily, you hit the steering wheel, sounding the horn in the process, but it's no use. Trying to ignore the honking from outside and the rude gestures of drivers finding their way around you, you reach into your pocket to call the car dealership. Luckily, you're well covered for such situations.

You stare blankly at the device in your hand. This isn't your cell phone. Instead of the brand new current flagship model with the big Pineapple on the back, you are looking at the cheap plastic of a no-name device with a cracked screen that is probably ten years old.

"What the...?"

You frantically search all of your pockets, but they are all empty.

You can't help but feel as if you have gone insane. No, there has to be a rational explanation. You have probably just pocketed the wrong phone when you were at the board meeting. Of course, there are immediately nagging voices in your mind that remind you that you had tried to call your office just before getting in the car, or that surely nobody at the board meeting would have such a phone, but you decide to tune them out.

Your office is now only two blocks away. There, you have your tablet with all of your contacts. You can call the car dealership to care for the car and then just end this horrible day.

You get out of the car and ignore the shouting from the other drivers. A line of cars has formed behind your expensive Mercedes, but you ignore that as well and begin to walk. Two blocks don’t sound too bad, but it is a hot day, and you feel uncomfortable quickly. You have to loosen your tie because it feels constricting around your neck. That's not the only piece of clothing feeling wrong. Your step feels heavier, and you have to scratch yourself multiple times, trying to readjust the expensive Italian dress shirt, which is suddenly not sitting right.

Finally, you arrive at your office building. You don't even want to look down on yourself. You can feel your shirt clinging to your body and you feel disgusted by your appearance. Good thing this will all be over soon.

As you approach the elevator, you notice that you don't have your wallet at the ready - you must have forgotten it at the car. Ignoring the fact that you just now have realized the lack of its weight and the fact that you never leave your wallet in your car, you go to the reception for an elevator.

The receptionist, a perfectly styled young woman, watches as you approach and smiles.

"Hello Sir, what can I do for you today?"

"An elevator to my office." you say, adding a "Please." although you don't really feel like it.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but what exactly is your office?"

You look at the receptionist dumbfounded.

"My office." You repeat slower now.

"I don't know you sir, you need to be more specific." The young woman smiles.

That's it.

"What do you mean you don't know me?!" You shout. "I own this fucking place. It is me, Jameson Pierce! Now call me an elevator and then pack your things, you are fired!"

The receptionist looks at you as if she was dealing with a madman.

"Sir, you are not in the company register and I'm sorry, but if you don't leave the premises immediately, I'll call security."

"What are you talking about? I have an office on the 50th floor, which is where I need to go!"

"You can't have an office there, sir, that is the executive offices. Now, please leave."

"Listen, girl." you lean closer, invading her space. "Call. Me. An. Elevator. Or else."

The young woman doesn't even flinch. She presses the intercom and speaks with a steady voice: "Security, there is a madman in the lobby. Please come and remove him."

"You little...", you start, but the young woman is done talking to you. Instead, she turns away and starts to file her nails, waiting for security, which arrives some seconds later.

"Good!" You address the bulky Black man in the dark security uniform. "Could you please tell the girl that I have an office on the top floor."

"I don't think so." the man replies, "But I can show you the exit. Follow me, Sir."

"No. I am the CEO. I own the company! My father James Pierce gave it to me!"

The security guard shrugs his shoulders and takes hold of your arm.

"As far as I know, Mr. Pierce has no children. Leave the premises, Sir."

"But... you can't treat me like that! Do you know who I am?"

The Black man doesn't reply, instead, he begins dragging you towards the door. Unsurprisingly, he is much stronger than you, and your expensive shoes drag over the marble tiles.

"You can't do this!" You yell. "I will sue the company! You will all lose your jobs, just watch!"

"Whatever you say, Sir." The man pushes you outside the building. You stumble a little and then turn around, but the door is already closing.

"Fuck you!" You shout after the guard.

You take a deep breath. Whatever is going on here, it's not good. What to do.

After some consideration, you decide to grab your wallet from your car and take a cab home. There, you will deal with all of this.

As you arrive at your car again, you come just in time to see it being towed away. All running behind it and shouting does not help. You almost cry as you see the towing truck disappear around a corner, along with your car, your wallet and everything else you left in there. As you turn around to leave the scene and walk home, the next disaster is already waiting for you. There is a muddy sinkhole in the sidewalk, left over from some construction work and you don't notice it until it's too late. The next moment, you find your right leg standing in stinking mud all up to your knee. You try to free your leg, of course, and it works, sort of. With a smacking noise, the mud swallows your right shoe whole and leaves you with one dirty sock.

This day can't possibly get any worse, you think, but you are wrong.

Half an hour later, you have to admit that you got lost entirely. You are in a part of the city you have not been in before. Usually, you navigate the city with your cars GPS, but that is not available. You try to use the cheap phone to find out where you are (stoically ignoring the fact that it unlocks just fine with your fingerprint) but the only thing you find is that whoever owns the device has not paid for mobile data. You are offline. You could, of course, ask someone, but it takes some courage to ask a stranger where you are, especially in your current state.

Finally, you realize that you have to ask someone if you want to get home anytime soon. Right now, you find yourself in front of a landfill, which is both a blessing and a curse. It smells absolutely disgusting, but at least the people working here should have a good idea on how you can get home.

You enter the building with the grimy walls and look around.

"Hello?", you ask into the empty room. You are just about to leave again, when a burly man comes from the back. He is at least a head taller than you and twice as broad. His clothing is dirty, and you can see tufts of body hair coming out the top of his shirt and his armpits. Absolutely revolting.

The man looks at you for a second before shrugging his shoulder.

"Whatever." he says. "What's your name, kid?"

Needless to say, you are confused. "I am Jameson Pierce. Could you please..."

However, the big man interrupts you again. "Fancy name. I'll call you Jerry, okay? Come with me, I'll show you around."

"Wh-what do you mean?", you stutter but follow the man automatically.

"You're the new hire, aren't you? Gotta say, you're pretty scrawny, Jerry. But the job has no requirements, so if you don't mind getting your hands dirty, you're gonna fit in fine. Here are the lockers. The name's Hank, by the way."

You look around. You are in a room with a dozen dirty lockers. There is a foul stench everywhere and you have to suppress the urge to gag.

"No, I'm not new here. And I don't want to work here, or get my hands dirty!" you protest, but Hank ignores your lamenting.

"It's not gonna be easy finding an overall in your size, but we have a few small ones here as well. By the way, the overalls are shared with the other boys, hope you don't mind. Ah here. Try this one."

Hank throws you an overall. It is, in theory, blue, but both your nose as well as your eyes tell you one thing: It is entirely unwashed. For days, possibly for weeks. The clothing reeks of sweat, dirt, piss and probably even more things that you don't even want to know about.

"What's wrong with you? I am not gonna wear that."

"Well, what did you think when you came here?" Hank is clearly amused. "You can't work in these clothes of yours, even if they are dirty enough. Come on, strip, while I look for boots."

"I won't do that." you say. However, Hank is already gone. You don't think about it too much and begin to take off your expensive clothes. It is almost painful, but for some reason you... have to? It's a difficult to describe feeling. The dirty blue overall is sitting next to you on the locker room bench and is almost inviting you. You can't help it. You just have to strip. Soon, you stand in the dirty locker room clad in only your silk boxer shorts. You didn't notice that every piece of clothing you have taken off somehow changed. Your expensive dress shirt became a cheap t-shirt with stains on it. Your pants turned into a pair of ripped jeans and your golden wrist watch just... vanished.

"If I were you, I would be going commando." Hank, who had returned with a pair of work boots you can smell from over there, comments. "You're going to move around a lot. Besides, all the boys are doing it.

You look at the overall again, almost gagging now. Some other guys have worn it, rubbing their bare asses and dicks into the fabric. And Hank expects you to do the same. Suddenly, you remember the smell. Sweat, piss and other smells. You shudder. You shudder in... anticipation? As you automatically lower your boxer shorts (who turn into plain cotton briefs as you do), you can feel yourself growing hard at the thought of stepping into this dirty overall. At the same time, you are disgusted beyond measure.

Still, it's almost like your arms are on auto-pilot as you step into the overall and pull it up around your naked body, until the disgusting smell envelops you.

"Glad you like it." Hank grins and playfully grabs your very obvious erection through the dirty fabric. "You might want to meet up with some of the boys here in the locker room after shift, I hear some of them need to release some steam after a good shift. Now, come on. Pull the boots and get moving, we don't have time to waste."

You stare blankly at the big man as you realize what he just said.

"Wait." you stutter. "You think... You think I'm..."

"You're gay." Hank interrupts. "No worries. A lot of the boys are."

You can't believe what he's saying. Gay? You?

"But I am not!"

Hank doesn't even seem surprised.

"You might want to tell that to your hard cock. Anyway. Boots."

He tosses the dirty boots in front of you, and you find yourself bending down to pull them up. They are a little bit too large and feel like they are made of rubber, not leather. As soon as you have both of them on, Hank nods approvingly and then grabs you by the arm, pulling you out of the locker room and towards the garbage truck.

The next few hours pass quickly. The other men (it seems the job has exclusively male company) are friendly but don't go easy on the "newcomer". Everybody calls you Jerry and you have to do the most disgusting work you have ever done: Hauling full bins to the truck, sorting through garbage, cleaning up spilled garbage from the streets. Still, nobody is complaining and so you don't, either. After all, there are more pressing concerns: You feel dirty, your whole body is covered in a thick layer of sweat and dust. Your hands are filthy, and so is your face. And the worst part of it all is: A part of you is enjoying it, a lot. At first, the part is strictly physical. You have a boner pretty much the whole time, and whenever you need to do something especially disgusting, it visibly and violently throbs against your work pants - a fact that doesn't escape the rest of the boys.

After a while, though, more changes set in. The full bins appear to become lighter and easier to move. Of course, that isn't the case: Your muscles grow in front of your eyes, and the overall, that was a bit too big, fits better and better. Hair starts to grow on your chest, your legs and arms, and stubble forms in your face. Your carefully maintained hairstyle dissolves into an unkempt mess on your head.

But the changes don't stop there. Overall, you feel like you are getting more and more youthful. You weren't terribly old to begin with, in your mid-thirties, but a strange energy makes you feel more like end-twenties, mid-twenties and finally, like a man who just turned 21.

At the same time, however, your personality changes as well. You start to talk less and less, and when you do, the words aren't quite as sharp as before. Your education slips away with every word you say, and your vocabulary is replaced by slang, often with a bit of swearing. It becomes more and more difficult to think, too. The boys quickly pick up on this and joke around you not being the sharpest. It's not that they're wrong. You're dumb, if you're being honest. School wasn't for you, so you dropped out at some point. Bit by bit, you really become Jerry, the dumb, sweaty, smelly garbageman. And Jerry, unlike Jameson, enjoys the dirt around him. You can hardly remember being a clean and smart businessman, and that's alright with you. Even though your thoughts are slower, however, the memories of your former self are not gone entirely. Every once in a while, you remember who you used to be. But at the latest when the shift ends and you and the rest of the horny boys are going to the locker room, you decide that this is, indeed, a simpler and a better life.

There is literally a metric ton of more pictures here, in my tip jar - variations of Jerry at the end. If you like my writing, consider joining the riot page for a tip (and ocassional additional pictures)

#male transformation #muscle transformation #dumbing down #straight to gay

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teamatsumu · 6 months

Text

kinktober 2023 -> day 27

hate sex - kuroo tetsuro x reader

word count: 2100

warnings: swearing, nsfw, reader is yaku’s sister, both of them are kinda assholes but not really lol

kinktober masterlist

Kuroo Tetsuro was a very talented individual. Because no one had the capacity to piss you off quite like he did.

You should’ve known the minute you walked into your biochem class that he would become the bane of your existence. You wished you had gotten some sort of warning when you chose your major. A sign. A whisper from the gods. Anything at all to stop you in your tracks. But no, you were here now, and you were stuck seeing him in class every time.

If only that was where it stopped. But then you discovered that he was on the college volleyball team with your brother Morisuke and apparently, they were thick as thieves. The nightmare just kept getting worse.

It’s not even that he was a jerk to you or he bullied you. You just thought he was too cocky and loud and the smirk he supported was stupid. Unfortunately, the moment he found out that you didn't like him, he made it his mission to annoy the crap out of you any chance he got.

He would make jokes about your height, or how uptight you were. He would call you dumb under his breath if you got something wrong in class, or would snicker when the teacher corrected you. He had a taunting lilt to his voice when he talked to you, like his mere words were making fun of you. It was embarrassing, and it stung a bit, but mostly it served to make you angry. Morisuke would always tell you to let it go. That Kuroo was a provocative and inflammatory person by nature, but at this point even his voice annoyed you.

“What kind of pleasure does this bring you?” You gritted out, refusing to look up at his stupid grin.

“It tingles me just right, sweets.” He replied.

“Ugh.” You made a disgusted face, giving him a look that hopefully communicated that.

“You are gross.” You responded, turning back to your book. “Now can you please leave? I have a quiz I need to study for.”

Kuroo hummed, as if contemplating your request. He leaned back in his chair, balancing it precariously on its two back legs. They squeaked in the silence of the library, making your cheek twitch.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m waiting for Yaku, remember?”

“And he told you to meet him here?” You didn’t look up at him.

“No, I told him to meet me here.”

You glared at him. “To purposely annoy me? Is that it? Why can’t you just stay away from me?”

He scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweets.”

You turn to him completely this time. “Then what is it, Kuroo? Why the hell are you obsessed with me? How pathetic are you?”

Kuroo stared at you incredulously. “Obsessed with you?”

He leaned forward until his face was inches from yours, eyes narrowed in anger. You nearly reeled back but held yourself in place.

“You’ve got some nerve. Thinking everything is about you. You think I give a single fuck about you? You’re just Yaku’s whiny little sister who thinks the world revolves around her. You’re not worth my time, or anyone else’s. Get your head out of the clouds or you’re going to end up taking a fall you won’t survive.”

You stared at him in shock, watching him gather his bag and water bottle before he stood up and hastily left. You stared at his retreating back, and felt anger burn through you as his words registered in your head.

You ignored the hot tears that stung your eyes.

…………………

The knock on your dorm room door startled you, and you stared at it warily. You contemplated whether you should open it or not. Maybe you could stay quiet and pretend no one was home. You weren't really in any mood to talk to people.

“I know you’re in there. The light is on.”

You nearly groaned, eyes squeezing shut. Anger boiled up in you again, and in a moment of impulse, you rushed to the door, opening it with more force than necessary.

“You've got some nerve.” Your voice shook in anger when you met his golden eyes. “Coming here after the shit you said to me today.”

Kuroo sighed, shoulders slumping. “I came to apologize for that.”

You laughed in disbelief. “What part, Kuroo? Me being whiny or me being pathetic?”

He scowled. “I didn't call you pathetic.”

“You’re getting hung up on the semantics now?!” You shrieked, stepping back to slam the door shut. Kuroo shot his foot out, blocking you from doing so.

“Excuse me? I’m not going to apologize for something I didn't even say!” He stepped inside the room, shutting it behind him so your voices didn't carry into the halls. “In fact, I specifically remember you were the one who called me pathetic. Which you still haven’t apologised for, by the way.”

“Oh my god, I hate you!” You screamed, feeling your face get hot because of how angry you were.

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual!” Kuroo screamed back, stepping forward until he was right in your face. You stiffened at how he was towering over you, his chest heaving and breaths coming heavy and quick. His teeth were clenched, making his jaw tick. Your eyes tracked the movement. You watched a small droplet of sweat run down the side of his face.

You stepped forward until your lips met his.

Kuroo jerked back, looking at you with wide eyes, mouth dropped open in shock. You stared at each other for a few moments, completely silent. Then, the dam broke.

Kuroo grabbed the sides of your face, sealing your lips together in a searing kiss. You moaned into his mouth, giving him the opening to slide his tongue over yours. You backed up until your legs hit your bed, falling back and Kuroo following you down, not breaking the kiss. Your limbs tangled together in a flurry, attempting to rip each other’s clothes off as quickly as you could.

“Can you hurry?” You broke the kiss, glaring at him as you tugged his shirt off.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” He bit back, pulling your sweatpants off your legs.

His lips met yours in the next moment, effectively silencing you except the little moans leaving your lips. His bare body felt heavenly against yours, and for the first time you thanked the lords that he was an athlete.

He broke the kiss again, making his way down your body with his lips. He bit at your right breast, making your breath stutter.

“Of course you would like that.” He chuckled.

“Shut the fuck up, Kuroo. Don’t ruin this-” You dissolved into a moan when he licked over your nipple, biting at it slightly before sucking. You sighed at the feeling.

His hand groped at your other breast, hips grinding down. His crotch pressed between your legs, and the pressure made you whine.

“Hurry up.” You pushed at his boxers, trying to tug them down.

“Say please~” Kuroo smirked up at you. You nearly slapped him.

“Over my dead body.”

Kuroo sighed and lifted himself off your body. He slid off you slightly, making to stand up. “Well, in that case-”

“No!” You sat up, biting your lip, staring at him. You groaned. “God, I hate you.”

Kuroo chuckled. You gasped when his fingers brushed over your clothed core, before hooking a finger into your panties and pulling them off you. His fingertips dipped into your slit. Your breath stuttered.

“Kuroo.” You stared at him, his eyes dark and pupils dilated. His lips parted, tongue peaking out just a little to run over them. His fingers continued their feather-light touch.

“Please,” you gave in.

“Please what, baby?” You whined at the nickname, feeling your core pulse. God, his voice was so husky. You stared at his lips, eyes wandering to his shoulders, his pecs, his abs, to the bulge in his underwear that was hinting at how big he probably was.

“Touch me, Tetsuro.” You whispered. “Please. Touch me, fuck me. You want me to shut the fuck up? Make it happen, then.”

He was on you the next moment, teeth digging into your skin and fingers burying themselves deep in your pussy. You yelped and moaned, spreading your legs more so he could hit deeper. His fingers were so long and delicious, reaching your spot and rubbing against it just right. Within seconds, he had you seeing stars.

“You’re such a brat.” Kuroo bit out, fingers picking up speed instantly. You could barely breathe. Your body jolted under his movements. He was being so rough. “A spoiled little princess. Greedy girl. You’re even letting me fuck you just so you can get off.”

You cried at Kuroo’s words. Fuck. Why was this turning you on so much? You clenched around his fingers, and were met with the sight of his infamous smirk, except this time, it was so much hotter than any time you had seen it before. Kuroo looked like he was enjoying the crap out of this.

“Oh, you love this, don’t you?” He goaded you, curling his fingers until your back was arching off the bed. “Such a slut. What, you got a humiliation kink or something?”

“I’m gonna cum.” You choked out, tears swimming in your vision as your toes curled.

You should've known. This was Kuroo Tetsuro you were with. There’s no way he would let you have anything good. You nearly wailed when he pulled his fingers out, soaking wet with your juices.

“Kuroo!” You cried, tears spilling down your cheeks. “Don’t- why?!”

You didn’t even care that he was witnessing you break down over this. You were just about to have what could have been the most intense orgasm of your life and he denied you it.

“You fucking asshole-”

He shushed you, leaning over and shifting slightly. Something hard prodded at your entrance, before sinking into you in one fluid motion. Your mouth dropped open at the feeling, jaw going slack. He was big, long and oh so hard, and he grazed all the right spots as he slid into you.

Kuroo wiped the tears that soaked your cheeks, brushing his nose against yours in a manner that was almost affectionate. You stared up at him, still dizzy from your almost orgasm a few moments ago. His eyes held a glint that told you tonight was going to be brutal in the best way possible.

And you were right. Kuroo fucked you through three orgasms before he even slowed his pace. You were left a blabbering, bumbling mess by the time his hips stuttered and he emptied himself inside you, warm cum washing over your walls, pushing you through one more orgasm as his unrelenting fingers rubbed at your abused, swollen clit. He didn’t care when you whined at him to stop. He was merciless throughout. It was rough and hot and it made you see stars.

You didn’t even register when his body left yours, or when he came back and ran a washcloth over the mess between your legs. You turned on your side, back sore from all the arching. You were still out of breath as he tugged on his clothes, watching him fix his hair. Well, as fixed as his messy hair could get. Aside from the sweat on his face and his slightly heavy breathing, he seemed unfazed. You would think he was out for a run, not rearranging your guts.

You didn’t realize he was staring at you until a few moments later, when he leaned over to brush your hair off your face. His signature smirk spread over his lips.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re the best sex I’ve ever had too.”

You scowled as he straightened up, making his way to the door. “What the hell do you mean ‘too’?

He didn’t answer, humming happily to himself as he tugged his shoes on.

“You aren’t the best sex I’ve ever had.” You sat up, feeling your face turn red. He gave you a look that was so smug it made you stiffen in embarrassment. You knew he didn’t believe a word you just said. You also knew that Kuroo’s already humongous ego was about to shoot through the fucking roof.

“You’re not.” You mumbled. Kuroo pulled the door open, still supporting the insufferable smirk on his face, giving you a teasing wink.

“You’re not, Kuroo!” You called behind him as the door clicked shut. Sighing, you flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling and ruminating on everything that had just happened.

Fuck.

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

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cryptotheism · 5 months

Note

wtf even is hermeticism? I heard of a comic book that showcases hermeticism, and it turns out it was mostly cabala and some stuff about higher dimensions, and the fuzzy line between stories and reality.

The thing about the fuzzy line between stories and reality cropped up in a youtuber's analysis of a different comic book series that revolved around hermeticism, like empowering yourself by telling a story.

Is it like, tricking reality into being a different way by acting on the basis of the Nous?? Is that how Hermes Trismegistus became a god, by ascending to and becoming one with the Nous/Monad/whatever?

If he never existed, the stories about him created him, on the basis of the Nous?

Hermetica is a body of ancient texts attributed to Legendary Sage Hermes Trismegistus. They're extremely difficult to date, and you see guesses anywhere from the 4th century BCE to the 4th century CE.

Hermeticism is quite eclectic. It exists as a blend of Greek, Egyptian, and Jewish, and other north-African mythologies and philosophies all rolled into one. The important thing to remember, is that Trismegistus is portrayed as being the source of all wisdom ever forever. All knowledge came from him. Everything cool or interesting about Egyptian, Greek, or Jewish theology is supposed to be his doing.

Hermeticism is a blend of several different religious currents that would be difficult to summarize in a tumblr post, but Hermetic doctrine is honestly less important than HOW Hermeticism syncretizes these disparate currents into a single theology. Its VERY good at sniffing out similarities between theologies, and gluing them together. Additionally, it really likes math. Hermeticism is really good at using math and science to reinforce its mythology.

So when people say "Hermetic" they generally mean one of three things:

1 - Classical Hermetica, as in the ancient body of work attributed to Hermes Trismegistus.

2 - Renaissance Hermetica. The theology was lost for a hot minute, and reintroduced to Europe in the 15th century via a weird Italian named Ludovico Lazzarelli. This was the first guy to identify as a "Hermetic Christian." (There were also some Islamic mystics around the 8th-10th century who really liked Hermetica, but they're oddballs even by the standards of Islamic mystics. #isma-ilimoment)

3 - "Neo-Hermeticism" This is the version of Hermetica that came back in the 17th-18th century. This is where you got folks like the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, who rediscovered just how good Hermetic theology was as a conceptual mortar. They just went hog-wild with it. That's where you get "Hermetic Quabbala." Europe at the time had just seen an explosion of interest in ancient Egypt, and thats why a lot of Quabbalistic texts have a bunch of Egyptian stuff.

So the stuff about higher dimensions and the lines between reality and fiction? That sounds like 1970s Chaos Magic, which itself was highly influenced by Hermetica, specifically Neo-Hermeticism.

As for the nature of Trismegistus himself, even classical Hermetica has like nine different backstories for him. Depending on the text, hes Hermes, Thoth, a combination of Hermes and Thoth, a normal sage who was very wise, a man who achieved godhood, the tutor of Moses, etc, etc. There's no set mythology for Trismegistus beyond "Legendary Sage of Sages."

I'm gonna plug my patreon here because I'm writing about Trismegistus in an alchemical context on Patreon right now.

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roses-r-rosie3 · 3 months

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Fantasize

Yandere!Golden Boy!OC x M!Reader

Warnings: Yandre (Obvi), Murder, stalking, Malakai is a bit delulu, light nsfw, reader is bisexual

Oc Name: Malakai Mazurek (Top Left)

Summary: Malakai was perfect in every way, he had no flaws. He was the golden boy of the campus, and then you arrived. Malakai was mesmerized he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, so he starts to do what any psychopath normal would do and starts to stalk you! He soon finds out that you are already in a relationship and that doesn’t make him happy. So instead of moving on, he decides to… get rid of her

Quote: “This is what happens to filthy sluts when they get in my way”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Malakai was the definition of a ‘Golden Boy’. I mean he was literally perfect! Perfect grades, perfect attendance, perfect social life, perfect personality, everything about him was just perfect! He had no flaws! It was a surprise to everyone on campus when they found out he wasn’t in a relationship.

But the truth was, he wasn’t really interested in a relationship, he would’ve much rather focus on his schoolwork and on graduating. Well at least, he used to. Ever since you joined the college campus, Malakai couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He would try to talk to you, but he would get too nervous and just end up following you like some lost puppy.

From then on, Malakai’s whole life revolved around what you did. You were about to be late to class? Not to worry! He would gently knock on your window to wake you up before running away. A professor was getting on your nerves? He’s already on it! Next thing you knew, the professor has mysteriously gone missing and your grades start to go up again!

Of course with all that work and devotion came some consequences. Malakai’s own grades were starting to plummet, he would almost never show up to class, and he would constantly ditch his friends because he was “too tired”. You were his only goal in life from now on. School? Pshh! Who cares about school when you can have a lover!

Eventually, after all the stalking and killing Malakai finally built up the courage and finally tried to interact with you for the first time! It was during a class that you shared with him, and he decided to sit next to you. As the professor was talking, all Malakai could think about was you. He could smell your cologne lingering around his nostrils and your sharp but soft eyes looking at your notebook and taking notes on what the professor was teaching.

But while Malakai was too busy oogling you, he hadn’t realized how much time went by and class was already halfway over! He was stressing internally. He had to think of an excuse to talk to you and quick! Suddenly he thought of an idea.

He gently tapped your shoulders and you looked at him with a soft friendly gaze. He felt butterflies in his stomach at this point and he was panicking, trying to think of something to say.

‘Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! He’s actually looking at me! He’s so fucking cute!!! I could just kiss him right now!!’

“I-I-uh do y-you have a pencil you-I mean I can borrow” Malakai stuttered.

“Yeah sure” you smiled before reaching in your bag to grab a pencil.

‘His smile is so perfect!! Everything about him so perfect!! I bet our kids would look perfect too!’

You handed him the pencil politely before going back to your work. But Malakai on the other hand, he was on the brink of hyperventilating. He was holding YOUR pencil in his hand right now!! Oh god.. the things he wanted to do with your pencil was insane..

Before he knew it, the class was already over. Which meant that he had to return your pencil back to you. He truly didn’t want to but he had to give you a good impression of himself. So he tapped your shoulder once again.

“H-here’s your uh- pencil” Malakai blushed.

“Oh it’s fine you can keep it” you said before you were about to get up and leave.

Something in Malakai was telling him to do more. Ask to be your friend! Maybe even ask to be your boyfriend! But he to play it safe.

“H-hey, d-do you maybe wanna be fr-friends? It’s totally okay if you don’t want to be friends!” Malakai asked.

“Sure, can you just give me your number?” you smiled.

He felt like his heart was doing jumping jacks right now. You?! Asking for his number?! He was going to faint! But Malakai quickly put his phone number and name into your phone.

“Malakai, that’s a cool name” you said.

OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! YOU SAID HIS NAME WAS COOL!!! This was the best day of his life!! You complimented him!!

“T-thanks, what’s yours?” Malakai asked, acting as if he didn’t already know what your name was.

“My name is y/n, guess I’ll see you around Malakai” you winked before walking out of the classroom.

Malakai stood there in shock. Did you just let him keep your pencil and you gave him your number?!??! Malakai knew he had to cherish this pencil forever, so he rushed back to his dorm and into his room where he put the pencil in a glass case before putting it on his shelf. Oh and he didn’t forget about your phone number, he texted you immediately. Starting a conversation with you and getting to know you better.

From then on, he would constantly sneak into your dorm room and steal little stuff that you had lying around your desk. He even started a shrine dedicated to all of your stuff! Your cologne (that he sprays on his pillows everyday), a used piece of tissue paper, your underwear, your water bottle, and basically just anything that you owned.

Malakai was convinced you were in love with him too. I mean what type of person would just give someone a pencil and their number! You were definitely in love with him! So he decided to follow you around even more. Which caused his attendance and grades to plummet even further to the point where he could get kicked out of the school he worked so hard to get into. But who cares! You love him! And he loves you!

His attendance got so bad that the dean of the campus emailed him, asking if they could meet to talk about his sudden change in attitude. As much as he just wanted to stalk follow you for the day, he knew that if he got expelled he wouldn’t be able to see you again, so he begrudgingly went to the meeting.

“Hi Malakai, I think we both know why you’re here. Your grades and attendance used to be perfect, but I’ve been noticing that as of recently you have really been showing up to class and I’m starting to get concerned…”

Malakai didn’t even pay attention after that, only nodding his head as he pretended to listen. The only thing he was thinking was what you were doing right now. Were you thinking about him like he thinks about you? Were you…

“Do you understand Mr. Mazurek?” The dean asked.

“Yes” Malakai nodded.

“You may go” The dean said.

Malakai left quickly, and headed towards your dorm. He couldn’t wait to see you again! Oh after the day he’s had all he wanted to do was to see you. To smell you, to look at you, to-

Suddenly he started hearing some noises, that sounded like groaning/moaning coming from your dorm. Malakai immediately got worried, was someone hurting you?! Did something happen?! When he finally arrived to your window, what he saw broke his heart.

He saw you lying on your bed, naked as your hands gripping onto the girl’s hips, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as she rode your cock. What was that filthy slut doing with you?! That should be him! Not whoever that bitch was!

Malakai stormed off, running away back to his dorm with tears in his eyes. How could you do this to him?! As soon as he got back to his dorm, he immediately started looking into who that person was. After doing some research, he found out that she was your current girlfriend. Suddenly his anger towards you, turned to her.

How dare she steal you from him! How dare she try to convince you that she belonged to you! No! He belonged with you! Not whoever that bitch was! You know what! She probably blackmailed you into dating her so that she could keep you from him! Not to worry though! He’ll make sure that you were free from them!

Malakai spent the whole night trying to find out where they lived, only to find out that they were your roommate. All he needed to do was dig up enough information about this partner/roommate. It turns out that her name was Julia, what a ugly name (no offense to the girls named Julia out there who are reading this rn), but most important, he found out that she was a bit forgetful.

Jackpot, this would be easier than he thought! All he needed to do was sneak in and kill her! So later that night, he got all the supplies he needed to make your soon to be ex-lover “disappear”.

It was currently 3am and nobody on campus was awake. So it was his time to strike! He brought his knife and put on gloves before heading off. When he arrived, he tested to see if her window was open, which it was.

‘Of course that slut doesn’t lock her window, why would he even want to be with her’

He quietly opened the window and snuck in. He looked at the sleeping girl before walking closer with his knife.

“This is what happens to filthy sluts when they get in my way” he whispered to her before plunging his knife into her.

Malakai got some sort of thrill from this. So he kept stabbing and stabbing, letting out all his anger on the poor girl. Her blood started soaking the bed and splattering everywhere. After he was finished, the girls whole chest was covered with stab wounds and his face and clothes were stained with her blood.

The next day, you woke up and something in your dorm was starting to smell bad. You shrugged it off and thought that maybe your girlfriend just forgot to take out the trash, and you started to get ready. While you were making breakfast, you knocked on her door to ask her if she wanted anything.

“Hey, Julia, I made us some breakfast if you want some” you said.

But there was no response. Maybe she was still asleep. So you knocked again. But still, no response. Did you make her mad or something?

“Julia, whatever I did, I’m sorry. But can you come out now, the breakfast is getting cold” you apologized.

Still no response. You were starting to get worried.

“I’m coming in” you said before opening the door.

You let out a blood curdling scream. You saw Julia’s dead body on her bed, blood was everywhere, on the walls, her bed, the floor, everything. You looked up above her bed frame to see a chilling message used with her blood.

‘U + Me 4 Ever’

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violetmoondaughter · 4 months

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In neopaganism the horned god is seen with two different faces representing the duality of nature and the changing of seasonal cycle. The theory of these two aspects of the god was debated by Sir James George Frazer in The Golden Bough and by Robert Graves in The White Goddess.

According to these theories old religions were fertility cults that revolved around the worship and periodic sacrifice of a sacred king. Frazer based his thesis on the pre-Roman priest-king Rex Nemorensis who was ritually murdered by his successor. The king was the incarnation of a dying and reviving god, a solar deity who underwent a mystic marriage to a goddess of the Earth. He died at the harvest and was reincarnated in the spring. This legend of rebirth is central to almost all of the world's mythologies. Some examples of this archetypical figure are the gods Dionysus, Osiris, Tammuz, Dumuzi, Adonis, Janus, Attis.

The two aspects of this figure take the names of Holly and Oak king.

The Holly King is seen as an old version of the green man, ruler of winter, death and darkness. He starts his kingdom at summer solstice when, after the longest day, ruled by his opposite king the oak king, the days start to get darker and shorter entering in the dark half of the year. The holly king is so called referring to the plant that is fruitful during the winter season. The holly king is also referred to as a black knight and is also connected with the dark aspects of many pagan gods.

Counterpart of the Holly King is the Oak King that is usually seen as a young green man, ruler of summer, life and light. He starts his kingdom at the winter solstice, when after the darkest night a new light is reborn, signing the beginning of the light half of the year. The oak king is called over the name of the plant that is fruitful during the hot season. Opposite to the Holly King, the Oak King, relates to the light aspect of many pagan gods and its sometimes referred to as a white knight.

According to the theory these two kings may be seen as two brothers fighting for the throne or as a father and son passing the kingdom to each other in a perpetual cycle of death and rebirth. This cycle of life and death represents the seasonal cycle of death and rebirth of the sunlight and vegetative world.

#witchcraft #witchblr #witches of tumblr #paganism #pagan witch #oak king holly king #horned god #green man #winter solstice #yule #the golden bough #wheel of the year #darkness and light #winter #strega #italianwitch

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nanamimizz · 1 month

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tags: 18+ minors dni / fem reader / fingering / reader is mexican / spanish / religious imagery / aftercare / hinted virginity loss / penetration /2.6k/ pwp - let me know if i miss something.

synopsis: javier escuella feels an all encompassing desire to have you. you feel it too, maybe even more.

Javier laughs into your lips, you are kissing him with the reverence of the faithful. You kiss sweetly, gently with the undercut of hunger he is all too happy to sate. Your form is soft beneath his hands, flesh pillabe like the strings on his guitar and the trigger of his revolver - the hollow of his palms filled with the curve of your hips. Javier nips at your lip until he can hear you hiss from the sting among your sighs from the pleasure of having him suck on your tongue.

“I can’t believe you - all I did was kiss you,” he stops to puff a breathe against your lips snickering at the dazed look on your face and the glistening spit on your lips, “and now you’re letting me fuck you.”

You whine, high and embarrassed but so unbearably needy and pressing yourself up against him like a cat in heat. There’s a little gold necklace threaded along the slopes of your collar - it glints against your untouched and unblemished skin like a comet, looping along your form in a circle until completion where it stays in perpetual orbit. Javier doesn’t know if he should be jealous of the thin necklace or not.

Your nightgown is off, spread out on the ground and Javier’s eyes are caught on the pendant that holds the face of La Virgen that glints in the lowlight of his tent - his eyes meet hers and he feels a shiver against his spine. Of course she would be there, looped above your too-good heart and appearing before him. It almost pains him to touch you, the holiness of your skin burning his palms that are too greedy to stay away.

You gasp his name and it brings him back to you - it brings his lips to your chest and you sigh as your hands twist on the fabric of his shirt clad shoulders like you are scared to touch him. You still have your bloomers, the white cotton stark against his tan hands and he presses another kiss right above your heart as it stutters tucked away in your ribs.

“Esta bien hermosa - you can touch me.” The pet name makes you tremble, whining when the word graces your flushed ears. Hermosa, meaning beautiful or gorgeous in the language your mother would sing you to when you were a girl. Your nostalgia brings desperation and it only serves to make you needier, wanting for more of the man above you like how priests desire the light of God. You think of that ill-stricken Reverend that wanders this camp and something aches in your chest as you let your hands go over the curve of his shoulders and anchor yourself there. Teeth aching with each suck on your tongue you don’t notice it when your bloomers are off until the brisk cool night breeze dances on your bare thighs. The skin there is hot and growing more so when he lets his hands settle on the smooth skin.

It’s almost comical how perfectly you fit in his roughed hands, his callouses from his knife so seamlessly accepted by the plush of your thighs. Like the velvet cushions rich men sit in their gilded train cars and golden stagecoaches. You go from velvet to wet silk with simple touches and you moan something sweetly into his ear as his face goes to your chest and his hands in between your thighs. The backs of his knuckles tease the wetness of your slick that leaks like honey and Javier lets his lips kiss the bud of your nipple softly but not without letting his teeth have their own kiss at the edge to make you whine.

“You are so wet, leaking for me - you’ll make a mess on my pants mi amor.” His teasing is endless and you can hear that smile you see whenever you blink. You jumble out a half-assed apology and it makes Javier laugh at you again. He must have you in quite the state if it’s making your perfectly trained manners fall off like wool when faced with sheep shears. His fingers have made their way to where you are the most needy - letting them pet along the slit and cup at your mound. You moan his name, oh so, softly when he squeezes gently, cradling your most delicate part the same way he cradles the neck of his guitar.

“Javi - please, please.” The shortened version of his name makes him grin, shivering pleasantly at how affection given only to him melts into his ears like syrup.

“Ya se, ya se. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you tonight.” Dark eyes are wicked at how they glint in the low orange light of his tent as he lets one finger slip in. He reclines himself back so he can watch how you take him.

Javier does not profess how he would take care of you every night for the rest of the nights you have in your life.

You whine thinly into the air, and it makes him hiss at how tight you are around his one finger.

“Relax, chiquita - I can’t take care of you when you’re all tense like this. Shh, shh,” he murmurs to you and in return you whine with a nod; pliable and sweet for him as you let your legs shuffle more open, working on letting him in and letting him deeper. One finger turns to two, and they curl into you cruelly without respite for how you weep and sniffle at the pleasure he tugs from you like music from his guitar strings. Your mouth is hanging open, drool shining on your lips as you let out thin little sounds.

You feel full, and pleasure dances along your spine as his thumb plays with the glimmering pearl of your clit. You whine - no sing his name like gospel and it makes something inside his stomach preen like a peacock.

Javier is dedicated, giving you an even pace and deep curls of his fingers to make you soft and loose for him. Dark brown eyes watch you with the precision of a predator - eagerly taking in how sweat drips down the middle of your breasts and how your jaw drops to make out little pants of his name just for him to hear. His fingers do just enough to bring you to the edge, and you stutter over your words as you push at his wrist with the desperation that is unbecoming of you. Etiquette and education are long gone from your mind as you beg him with an addled mind.

“Please, please not - not like that,” you stutter and let out soft little moans in between each word as Javier remains unmoved; letting his fingers stay inside you at their same pace, dark brown eyes taking in how even this almost makes you weep in pleasure. His cock stirs in his jeans at how it will be when he’s inside of you, filling you well beyond anything you’ve ever had.

“No, like this - it will hurt if you don’t cum now.” He mutters, voice thick with lust as he watches your hips twitch and jump when you have begun to hit the highest peak of your pleasure. Your body is eager for his fingers, tightening and fluttering around them as you leak down to his palm. Javier goes to shush you but you’re a good girl he realizes, watching you with a grin at how your hands shoot up to your mouth to muffle your long winded whines when you crash and cum for him. His voice is soft, reassuring you as you ride out your pleasure with the trembling of your hips and the quickened rising falls of your chest.

“Just like that - like that. There you go, there you go. Cum for me, give me this one and I’ll give you another.” He promises you, his accent thick as he watches your eyes go dark and unfocused as you burn with hot desire for him until he hears your broken voice mumble; “There’s more?”

He laughs. Teasingly, adoringly, lovingly and so many other words he can’t quite say.

“Si mi vida, there is always more with me. That I can promise you.”

Again, he laughs at the way he feels you twitch around his fingers that have stilled inside at the prospect of what more entails. He won’t admit to how his cock twitches in time with you tucked away in his pants.

You whine at the idea, hot at the image of being filled with all of him and whine again when his fingers slip out of you. Gossamer strands of your cum follow them, only to break and splatter along the inside of your flushed thighs. Javier smiles the same charming smile as when he sings and soothes you by rubbing your thigh with one hand while the other goes to undo his belt buckle.

You don’t see the length of him, only feel the heat of him against the petals of your cunt and it’s enough for you to yelp like some poor animal caught in a trap. Javier is bent over you, the build of his slim body covering you with his elbow supporting him above your head, eyes attuned to the half lit scene before him. You, sweating enough to make strands of your hair stick your flushed face with your eyes half lidded and mouth parted. His hips move without him thinking, coating his length in your glimmering release and rubbing against your still sensitive clit that it makes you flinch - mewling his name in a wet and defeated tone that makes him huff in half fondness-half teasing.

“Javi-” you whine, hotter than you have ever been and voice cracking when the head of his cock brushes past your entrance and makes its way in. You gasp into his mouth, one hand coming to cover your eyes and the other gripping at the fabric of his shoulder. Javier sighs against your lips and kisses you to muffle his own noises - higher pitched than he’d like to admit they are lost in between your two mouths as you take another inch of him. He is long, he knows this and you are tight ; tighter than anyone else he’s ever been with due to your lack of experience so he is slow with you despite how he wants to devour you entirely with one stroke.

Javier is tactical when he wants to be and is more than practical when he has to be so he controls himself, letting you have him inch by torturous inch. You are panting, throwing your head back in a way that lets him catch the tears that make it down your cheek and are uncovered by your hand. With one hand he bats away yours until your face - glistening and flushed is revealed to him as your mouth shines with drool from pleasure. His thumb goes to wipe away a tear and you move to feel the warmth of him more closely.

“Why are you crying hermosa, hm?” He asks you, sighing at how you take more of him so sweetly. You don’t respond only squealing and squeezing around him as you lose more of yourself on his cock. Half of him is seated inside you, enough for you to moan his name brokenly as you beg for more despite you wincing when he moves. Javier grunts and stops, letting the half of him that’s inside you stay still to let you breathe

“You can,” you pant, “you can put the whole thing in - please, please put it in.” You beg, and a thrill goes up his spine at the idea of seeing you weep from his cock being too much runs across his mind before he pushes it to the side. You are far too sweet, too delicate to be treated so roughly by him. You aren’t a working girl he can forget about come morning but the woman he wants to wake up to, which is why it’s easy for him to do what he thinks to be best.

He denies you.

“No, this is -” he sighs deeply at the way you feel around him - slick and wet and wanting for him to give you more until it aches. “This is enough. You’ll take the rest next time.” You whine at the thought and whine again when he pulls his slim hips back to fuck you like that. He gives you slow, careful thrusts with the hand that cradles your face sneaking down to rub at your pulsing clit with gentle precision. It’s almost too much for you, he notes and he feels bad that the sight of you weeping on half his cock, losing your mind with your eyes glassy from tears is doing it more for him than anything else.

You’ve always been a proper girl, ever since he saw you on your horse in the snow of Colter looking at him with the sweetest eyes framed by snowflakes. There’s a sick pleasure tugging at his stomach at how he has you now, manners gone and all you are now is debauched and drunk on him. It’s almost enough to make him finish and clearly it’s enough to get you there too by the way you weep out the little nickname you gave him.

“Javi, Javi, ’m going to -” He cuts you off with a punched out exhale, grinding his molders to keep from cumming inside by how you keep tightening around him like a vice.

“Go let go for me, mi amor - you’ve been so good.” With that you break, voice so ruined it cracks when you whine out babbles of precious thank yous in his ear as you come to completion a second and last time for the night. It’s painful, the last drag he gets of your cunt before he tugs at his sticky and slick cock to shoot his spend against the mound of your cunt. The sight of him dripping down to your twitching lower half more than makes up for it and he is more than willing to bend back over you to press gentle kiss after kiss on your panting lips. Your eyes had fluttered close and you babbled mindlessly under his gentle touches as you slowly came back down to look up at him with blearily eyes. Javier smiles at you with all the tenderness of the world when you wrap your arms around his neck - he manages to settle on his side with you in his arms and you tuck your face into his neck. You nuzzle the skin and sight softly, eyes red and half lidded tired from all he has pulled for you. Javier is soft with you, spoiling you by letting his nails scratch your scalp the way you like.

“Rest mi vida, I’ll clean you up.” he murmurs into your hair, presses a kiss to the crown of your head. You hum, murmur his name and a soft little confession of love before your eyes slip shut. You shiver when the soft fabric of a pocket square wipes at the mess of your swollen cunt and whine when you are moved to have your nightgown pulled over your head. Through your fussing Javier remains gentle, whispering praise as he settles you to his chest to sleep. When you awake you’ll be faced with teasing you thought you were quiet enough to avoid but that can wait. Now your eyes are heavy and Javier’s heartbeat is soothing - anything else can wait as for now you want for nothing else.

#lamb.writes #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella smut #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption x reader #rdr2 smut

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shogvnate · 11 months

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GODS & MONSTERS. yan! re8 ladies x reader.

general yandere headcanons + snippets pt 1.

contains; mother miranda, mia winters.

warnings; extremely toxic and unhealthy behavior, broken mindset, body mutilation on miranda's part, potentially triggering content, yandere. you've been warned.

⸻ 🐦‍⬛ mother miranda

obsessive, stalker, and training type

arguably the worst.

other than how to revive her deceased daughter, her thoughts revolve around you, you, and you. It drives her absolutely insane that she's drifting from her original plans of marking you as just another one of her failed experiments.

you can never feel alone, no, not with her being lovesick.

her crows are always watching, always listening.

she knows everything, don't try to hide anything from her, it never ends well.

she despises disobedience, no one wants a darling who's rebellious, no?

at some point she'll definitely break your mind, it's unavoidable, basically.

rarely ever affectionate, shows her love in other extreme ways such as giving gifts (eg. putting a golden bracelet still attached to a severed hand in front of your bedroom door for your 'anniversary', wrapped in the guts of the lycan who attacked you earlier that week), and of course, words of affirmation.

she truly does love you in her own sick and twisted way, but oh, darling, she's too far gone to save.

"don't deny me. worship me, acknowledge me as your one and only savior, and you shall find what you need," her smile was like a blank canvas, begging for someone to add value to it. it made you sick the more you think about it.

because she didn't want no simple mortal.

she wanted you.

miranda drowned herself in the way you gazed at her numbly, twirling a lock of your hair in her clawed fingers. "anything you could ever possibly need will be with me."

how you hated her smile.

⸻ ❄ mia winters

removal, isolating, and manipulative type.

mia doesn't like it when you smile at anyone other than her. she doesn't know why, but she loathes the feeling of being ignored for someone who clearly doesn't fit the standards for someone like you.

she goes to unhealthy measures to make you stay by her side. gaslighting, threats, guilt tripping, you name it.

someone asking you out for lunch? they didn't show up for lunch and they never talk to you again.

gets scolded by her peers due to her constantly being in your shadow and controlling everything you do but she shrugged them off.

most of the time she's not aware of how she's acting like she can't breathe without you being in the same room as her but when pointed out by you, she usually apologizes.

physically affectionate, too physically affectionate. so much so that she comes off as smothering.

unlike miranda, she can still grow and change as a person so you have hope…?

"mia, this isn't right." you pushed her away slightly. she was getting too comfortable in your personal space. it was supposed to be the only thing she'll never get a hand on but she managed to do so in the end too.

she already took too much from your life. your friends, your co-workers, your favorite florist from the subway, your bed, your house, oh the list goes on forever.

the most outrageous fact was that you were the one who actually let her do whatever she wanted. now look where that got you.

"what makes you say that?"

there it is.

her frown, something she knows you can't stand seeing.

"i thought you knew i'm only doing this because i love you?"

"it's just…" you bit the inside of your cheek, "it feels... wrong."

"tell me more about it, maybe I can help you understand how I see you," she suggested, but when you looked at her dull eyes and warm smile, you could hear something on the back of your mind telling you not to push it.

you sighed, opening your arms for her to bury herself in again.

"changed your mind?" she cooed.

"forget I said anything, mia."

‎

#mia winters x reader #re8 mia winters #mia winters #mother miranda x reader #mother miranda #x reader #yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere re8 #yandere re8 x reader #yandere mother miranda #yandere mia winters #yandere x reader #writing this was wild bro

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tasiales · 4 months

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writing prompt idea - Alcina Dimitrescu x reader (long text below)

you've just recently started your new job as a nurse at the asylum, and it's during one of many meetings with one of your patients you're assigned to now what makes you trully fear for your life for the first time since you started your working journey there.

it takes one quick glimpse towards the haunched woman sitting seemingly peacefully on her bed scribbling something away in her journal to take your breath away. the woman before you is stunningly beautiful; her features and soft curves of her body hidden underneath all the clothing remind you that of someone sculpted by the gods themselves. it's only after your quick introduction to her that you've been pulled aside by one of your new colleagues to warn you in hushed whispers about previous unfortunate accidents revolving all other nurses ever interacting with your new patient you'd just met.

she's dangerous, they said.

be attentive around her, they warned.

she's a lunatic, they proclaimed.

how could she be, you thought, when she's one of your peaceful patients who you never had a problem with and whose sign of acknowledgement is barely there nods and tentative smiles she gives you during your rambling episodes to fill the silence in the time it takes you to finish your tasks. honestly, she's a delightful company in regards of not messing with you like others tend to do throughout your regular checkups. you try to focus on staying professional but it's hard to resist the pull you feel towards this mysterious woman who barely speaks. you'd been told she has amnesia and doesn't remember much, and you can't help but be sympathetic towards her with that bleeding heart of yours.

you don't give those warnings you'd received at the beginning of your job any ounce of significance until it's too late.

you have no clue what could be the cause of her enraged moment - snapping at you like that - but you don't feel like finding out any time soon. it was one of your checkups during which she suddenly lunged at you knocking the tray you were holding out of her way, pills and other equipment scattering on the floor and getting crushed under your feet. you had barely any time to think of screaming before there were hands around your throat and strong legs weighing down on you pinning you to the floor which you hadn't even noticed you were pulled down to. luckily for you, all the commotion taking place in the room was loud enough for one of the guards to take notice in; with their line of work they were accustomed to picking up on even the slightest signs of sound disturbance. you would never in your life forget those eyes staring down at you; they shined alarming golden - which was as disturbing as the fact she's physically strong enough to kill you - smoldering and daunting making your blood run cold, and in that moment you came to realize one thing that was probably meant to be kept as secret... that woman is not entirely human.

now resting in the safety of your apartment recovering from your miss death encounter, your fight or flight instinct though still in overdrive making you paranoid and jumpy, you're thinking back to that moment - with the woman you've been attracted to for a while squeezing the life out of you - you should've recognized something amiss when those eyes of hers - normal human grey-ish color before she went berserk - had started staring you down; should've heard the low tremble of her growls stuck in her throat waiting for the moment to be unleashed. you should've seen it coming, should've paid more attention and not getting your guard down like you'd been warned about not to do. but you were too preoccupied with chatting away believing in the innocence of your patient. now you know better.

you still don't know what was the reason for her to lash out in such a way, with such ferocity and animalism - the only topic you talked about when she decided it was a good day as any to choke you was Greek mythology(it's being your hobby since childhood), with Cassandra being brought up that particular day - and those golden eyes that still haunt your dreams is another mystery you're not sure you ought to crack open.

you're a new nurse at the asylum getting attached to one particular patient of yours - mysterious Alcina Dimitrescu with amnesia who your colleagues claim to be deranged and a lost cause - until she assaults you during one of the checkups, and you're left wounded and terrified for your life. it isn't until few weeks later you have a chance at civil conversation with her but what you hear makes you want to rethink your eager approach to forgive her because cults? some cryptic sounding Miranda responsible for getting Alcina locked up at the asylum? her daugters being in danger from that woman? even though police claimed them to be dead? them being not entirely human? you talking about Cassandra triggered her memory? the two last ones you may believe but the rest of it? you find this all hard to be convinced of with no proof whatsoever. you would've thought her crazy if not for the fact that while looking at the sketch of that Miranda that Alcina showed you, dread starts pooling in the pit of your stomach because you recognize this woman staring at you from the confines of the journal; she's been everywhere you look after the choking accident making you all the more suspicious than you already were. now you think you were right to be unreasonably fearful of people surrounding you these days.

the question is... would you dive in into this sea of madness helping a complete stranger who you feel a pull towards and resurface unscathed, or would it consume you without mercy? only time will tell.

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #lesbian #wlw #writing prompt #it was suppposed to be a SHORT prompt but got out of hand #this idea has been stuck in my head #but im no writer #sorry for any grammar mistakes #english is not my first language

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iwashie · 10 months

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“LIFE IS SWEET AS VANILLA IS” BLLK FACULTY

📌 noel noa, marc snuffy, chris prince, lavinho, julian loki

･ﾟﾟ･｡ warnings- gn!reader, sugar bby!reader, sugar daddy!bllk faculty, 18+ characters, implicit mentions of alcohol, parties, marriage, sex, age gap, reader is cited as pretty/cute baby.

💵 “Would you be my baby tonight? I can be your baby tonight! All he wants to do is party with his pretty baby!” LAVINHO.

Don’t get attached to this man. All he wants is to party with the most beautiful and you are just another cute little face among several others in the middle of the party, feeling his arms around your waist and neck. He will kiss you in front of everyone at the party, in the park, in the dark night, anywhere. He is not afraid to show you, just like his other babies. His love is a nine-day wonder. The days with him are full of luxurious car rides to the most expensive places, expensive shopping, flash cameras here and there, laughter and make out in public, showing you off to everyone. The nights with him are full of desire, warm kisses, light hands, sweaty and glued bodies, moans and whispers, fun in public places like swimming pools, parking lots, against glass from ceiling to floor. Life with him is here and now, pure fun, golden and silver in everything, but don’t get attached because today he is with you and tomorrow he is with another. He has a catalog of cute sugar babies wanting a piece of him.

💵 “Money is the anthem of success and I’m your national success! Hand on the back of my neck. I say ‘Can we party later on?’, he said ‘yes, yes’. Heaven’s in your eyes. God, you’re so handsome!” CHRIS PRINCE.

Get used to the display. He loves to show off and will do the same to you, his hand always on your neck, showing belonging. You’re his alone. Life with him revolves around flash cameras, parties, expensive places, pictures of you two on the front page and all over the internet. He loves his beautiful baby and will do anything for you- mansion, jewelry, fame, cars, travel, expensive food and drink, whatever you want he gives you, he just asks you to be the coolest next to him. Your paradise is surrounded by strange voices and faces, golden and loud laughter. The fun never ends. You’ve found God in blue eyes, blonde hair, his money, and the flashbulbs of beautiful cameras—you’ve learned to like the display just like him. “Tell me, am I glamorous?” You being beautiful and staying with him, nothing else matters. Get ready for the photos on social media displaying the luxurious life and the perfect relationship of you. Images of the body can not miss. He likes yachts and water because he can show off his shaped body and cute baby by his side, his hand on your thigh and ass. The days and nights with him revolve around lights hovering over you. The fun with him is full of passionate kisses, hands on the body, some mark to show territory, but never exaggerated so as not to spoil the beauty of your body. Remember to smile and wave, cute baby.

💵 “Am that pretty that you dream of? All those little times your said I’m your pretty, you make me feel like your entire world. I can’t deny the way he holds my hand, and he grabs me. He has me by my heart.” NOEL NOA.

This man loves you with every bit of his body. He never looks at others because he has the baby he has always dreamed of by his side. He likes to keep your relationship private, but he took you on in a few months of dating and plans to marry you, have kids and a pet, have his family. Everything you ask, he gives you without problems, everything for his beloved. Life with him has flashes of cameras, clothes, cars, rides and rich parties, but he lives in the lull—likes to take you in private places or close the place to the two of you only. He’s a family man- he likes to spend time with you, whether it’s cooking, watching movies, talking, having dates at home like wine at night or just lying with you. The days, nights and fun with him are discreet, just the two of you and your spacious room or house, likes to shower together, calm kisses, strong hands, worship you as his only salvation, rough and passionate moments, sweaty and glued bodies, whispers and a lot of passion.

💵 “He loves me. He gives all his money. That Gucci, Prada, yacht, caviar and oysters, trips. He knows ho to spoil me, my sugar daddy.” JULIAN LOKI.

This man loves to show up with his young, beautiful baby. Ah, the rich youth. No one above his baby. It’s you and only you. A life full of parties, luxury, cars, trips, events, photos, good food and drink. Life surrounded by young money. He doesn’t care if you want things in private or public; he does everything you ask. The days and nights with him are full of rides, parties, rich people, engine noise from expensive cars in races and especially in F1, poses for photos with rich society, vacations on private islands, photos with champagne on the yacht, you on his lap and his hands on your leg, the white smile shining brighter than the jewels on your neck. The fun with him is calm and passionate, foreheads glued and holding hands, fervent kisses, full attention on his cute baby and how many times you put up with it.

💵 “In my dreams, I’ve a plan. If I got me a wealthy man… I’ve finally found you and my life is sweet as cinnamon. Heaven is a place on earth with you.” MARC SNUFFY.

This man loves you more than anything. He has the most beautiful baby next to him, but also a friend, a confidant, a future. You are much more than a cute face to be shown. He would create a money castle if you asked. Life with him is surrounded by old Italian money and the youth wealth- parties in any corner of the world with all kinds of people, but nothing like Sundays at home with family and friends. Holidays in Italy- car rides with your hair in the wind, yacht parties and Italian summer. He doesn’t mind showing affection in public, prefers private things, but can’t help the hand on your lower back and ass or a warm kiss here and there. You always appear together in the photos and you can show the shiny engagement ring. He likes quiet moments at home, just the two of you or people close to him, likes to dance around the house, old movies at night, your food and affection. The fun with him is calm and sensual, likes to have his time with you, calm kisses and strong hands, likes to leave marks on you and make you shiver with his touches, prefers a fun on four walls, but sometimes a quickie in a secluded place, in the car or in the water is also fun for him.

#blue lock #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #blue lock headcanons #bllk imagines #blue lock faculty #blue lock noel noa #blue lock marc snuffy #blue lock chris prince #blue lock lavinho #blue lock loki julian

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urjustapawn · 6 months

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andy biersack ✧ revolver golden gods awards 2013

#black veil brides #andy biersack #blackveilbridesedit #andybiersackedit #bvbedit #black veil army #tal.gifs

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hairmetal666 · 5 months

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The high summer sun glints off the lake, illuminating Eddie's dark curls in a golden shine. He plays Hopper's old acoustic, just noodling around with notes and melodies, while Steve watches, transfixed.

He's so beautiful, Steve thinks, before shaking the thought away. He turns from the man at the end of the dock, looking across the yard of Joyce and Hop's lake house. His two kids tumble across the grass with Max and Lucas's toddler on their heels. Max and El weave flower crowns--well, El weaves and Max makes a mess of petals and leaves. Dustin, Erica, Mike, and Lucas cluster around the solid wood picnic table Hop built, arguing about a new d&d update, while Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan sip glasses of lemonade on the porch. Through the wide, plate glass windows that line the back of the house, Steve watches his wife, Joyce, and Argyle bob and weave through the kitchen, while Hop mans the grill a few feet away on the patio.

He looks back to Eddie, whose fingers have stilled on the guitar strings.

"What's up?" Steve asks. It's been twelve years since Eddie almost died saving the world, and he still goes distant. Still slips out of time to another place, another world, that can be hard for the others to reach.

Not this time, though. Eddie glances up, soft smile on his face, one that's rare enough it makes Steve's heart trip. "Working out how to play something," he says.

There's yelling now, from the picnic table, an actual fight broken out, and Steve laughs. "Think we should get up there before someone gets punched?"

Eddie isn't paying attention, though. His head bent intently over the guitar as he strums out a familiar melody that Steve can't quite place. It's slower, he thinks, than the original.

It's so familiar, watching Eddie play. Back when they lived together in Indy, he used to lose entire afternoons to a shared joint and Eddie practicing. It's always transfixing, the movements of his fingers, the light glinting off the shine of his rings; his intensity and precision.

It hits Steve then, what the song is, isn't something he expected Eddie to ever know. Assumed his interest in any member of Nirvana ended in 1994, that he'd find the Foo Fighters hopelessly lame, but Eddie's eyes flash up to catch Steve's as he starts the chorus.

"And I wonder, when I sing along with you, if everything could ever feel this real forever; if anything could be this good again"

The sun is lower in the sky, casting Eddie in bronze, and god, god he's the most beautiful thing Steve has ever seen. His stomach twists, goosebumps spreading along his arms.

"The only thing I'll ever ask of you, you've got to promise not to stop when I say when, he sang"

The deep chocolate of Eddie's eyes sparkle with softness and care and, and--

Realization hits.

Steve loves him.

"Breath out, so I can breath you in, hold you in"

Has always loved him. Every second, every moment.

His heart trips, doubles. He doesn't understand how he missed it, that it's always been Eddie.

It crashes over him, a cascade of understanding, of unquestioned longing. Years, years have gone by without him recognizing the feelings for what they are. And now, now--

His wife is in the kitchen with Joyce and Argyle, and their two kids play on the lawn with Max and Lucas's toddler.

And he's been hopelessly in love with his best friend since 1986, when he first realized his entire world revolved around Eddie Munson's laugh, the specific smile he gave that brought out his deep set dimples, the softness of his voice at 3am when nightmares drove them both out of bed.

Eddie blinks a few times, looks down, eyelashes casting long shadows against his cheeks. His playing slows, and he ends the song with a crack in his voice as he sings.

"Hello, I've waited here for you, everlong"

The only thing Steve can hear is the pounding of his own heart. He wants--he wants--

The shrieking delight of his children carries down to the lake, his wife's wind chime laugh tinkling just behind.

He doesn't know what to do, what to say, can't stop hearing the way Eddie's voice broke on the last line that wasn't even in the original song, and--

Hopper calls out, "alright you animals, come and get it."

His wife yells, "Steve, come help with the kids?"

He shoves to his feet, yells back, "be right there."

Steve doesn't know what to do, what to say, how to process any of this.

He walks away from Eddie without glancing back.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #angst #no happy ending #feelings realization #mutual pining #wrong time #1990's au #married steve harrington #musican eddie munson #found family #everlong #i had the idea for this while doing a peloton ride to the acoustic version of everlong #i could not get eddie singing it to steve out of my head #it's been in my drafts forever #haven't posted a ficlet in months sorry it's a bummer

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cerseimikaelson · 1 month

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HIII CERSEI GUESS WHOS BACK (YOUR FELLOW WOTG FAN) WITH MY THOUGHTS ON COTG:

It is such a funny book, my fav jokes being the 'shrek, fiona, donkey' joke and an underrated classic in my mind, the scene where percy is like "There was screaming, crying and running in circles, and that was ✨just me✨" when talking about blanche's story (its so brutally honest and funny in a vulnerable way, which I will expand later on with the vulnerable part of it). It had so many iconic moments

It was a very low stakes, slow plot. You can tell Rick wrote it for the experience of reading our fav characters again (adding on to the fact that rick was made to write it by disney as additional marketing for the show, you can tell the plot wasnt thought of much), and ive seen people get mad over it, id love to know what you think!

This is a bit of a touchy topic. I've seen the people on the internet calling percabeth abusive with the constant name calling and the physical ??violence?? ( i obviously dont agree, but thats another topic), but something I've observed that everything that anti percabeths pointed out was toned down in the book?? Another post confirms that the majority of seaweed brains in the book was from percys pov and not annabeth actually saying it (like when hes looking at her expression and saying things like 'she looked like she was trying to say,....') and also when it comes to physical 'violence' (it feels so wrong to say bc i cant find another word lolol), the only things i found while rereading were 'lightly pinched my arm' and 'nudged me with her toe' which is wayyyy more toned down than ricks usual 'swatting my arm' or 'punching me' or 'judoflipped me'

One thing I admire so much about this book is the way he's written the characters vulnerability. percys way more open when he talks about crying whereas in the books its brushed over a lot, which is something the lovely @demigods-posts pointed out. annabeth tearing up when sally compliments her on something small like a cupcake, grover scared of percy and annabeth leaving him, and ofc percy. i saw someone interpret the river god scene as a ptsd induced panic attack, and i admire how rick has written it with so much angst, but still kept it light for the tone of the books.

another thing i love is how the characters dont revolve around percy as a main character (which is probably something rick learned while writing the tv show). annabeth has hobbies of her own, she's in her dream school, she is a busy woman and good for her. grover regularly goes to camp, and has his own conflicts with his gf and stuff. sally and paul are on their own arc with the baby on the way.

the fluff needs a special mention. every moment is so cute and sweet, there are way too many instances, especially with grover and percy which there was a severe lack of in hoo. them turning to seven year olds, percy and annabeths daily night iris message routine, the domesticity of the jacksons family

As usual, I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions too, im so happy i get to talk about it with you :))

Heyyy friend, how are you? Thanks for the ask!

Since you mentioned her, I LOVED Blanche. Iris is one of my favourite goddesses, so it was great seeing her. And I loved watching a god actually be ignored by their teenage child for once instead of the other way around. Blanche being a propel rebel with the monochrome was golden. (also, pink hummingbirds? lol)

It is obvious there wasn't much in terms of an actual plot with real structure, but it was fun and light-hearted and it does set the foundation for something in the future. Not all quests need to be high stakes, all-hands-on-deck, the world is coming undone. I liked watching the trio have semi normal lives (meeting up for smoothies after school) instead of constantly being on hero mode.

I genuinely had no clue people were upset about Percabeth's interaction in this. But seriously, violence? Did those people forget Annabeth judo-flipped Percy in New Rome, or was it okay then because it was a grand romantic gesture? How is punching someone in the arm to tell them they are being an idiot (provided you don't turn them black and blue of course) abuse? Percy and Annabeth are in a relationship, obviously they are going to be tactile with each other. Not to mention, people often nudge each other in real life and nobody shouts abuse then. I am rambling now but honestly this is the first I've heard of this and I have opinions.

I know Rick wrote the PG version, but can we talk about Zeus literally objectifying Ganymede at brunch and nobody but Hera (and Percy silently) batting an eye? Honestly, I am not a hardcore Zeus hater (although he is an a**hole) but the way Rick writes him he has no redeeming qualities whatsoever. I officially volunteer to be Hera's divorce attorney.

I really liked the idea of Annabeth having a secret fan club and having dinner with Sally, Percy and Paul every night. That was excellent.

I am already brainstorming theories about what the third book is going to be. Does it matter that WOTG isn't even out yet? Absolutely not. I kind of want it to be about Athena because her interactions with Percy are always 10/10, but that probably won't happen.

Feel free to send me asks about your favourite gods and goddesses, any headcanons you may have or anything you wish to discuss about PJO. You can also find me on ao3!

#cerseimikaelson #percy jackson #percy jackson series #pjo fandom #the chalice of the gods #ask #greek mythology

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