#PLEASE let him be a wicked powerful enchanter

[walkingbomb]

"When he rises, everyone will see"

he wasn't talking about Corypheus he was talking aboUT SOLAS

"every one will be just like they were"

dwarves with magic!! immortal elves!!!

[lebrookestore]

nct 127 as demigods!

authors note: i have no time to even be doing this i don't know where it came from but the pjo brainrot and phase is so real and back with a vengence so please enjoy while i hope i won't be failing my mathematics final. and yes, i absolutely want to write a full fledged fic based on this.

Mark: as a son of Poseiden!

listen...this man is everywhere and is so important that its no surprise he's the child of one of the big three.

has a natural affinity for swordplay.

used to depend on his swordsmanship a lot more than his inherited powers from his father but learned to strike a balance between both as he grew older.

has a very obvious, clearly powerful aura, but he's also Just A Guy.

when he first arrived to camp, everyone thought he was a child of Hypnos actually because he quite literally slept through the first two days he was there due to how exhausted he was.

got claimed on the third day and everyone was shocked (yes he's my Percy stand in and what about it)

doesn't really like how much everyone looks up to him, it makes him scared for the moment that he inevitably disappoints them all - or so he thinks.

bro is clueless for the most part but always manages to pull through and get himself out of any situations (*cough* monsters *cough) he finds himself in.

when he's especially emotionally disturbed or angry, he causes earthquakes.

Johnny: as a son of Hecate!

when he was little he didn't really understand how he could make things simply appear or scenes in front of him change by simply imagining it.

it kept him out of a lot of trouble during his younger years.

manipulation of the mist has always come easy to him, he barely even breaks a sweat.

his weapon is an enchanted spear.

it helps channel his power and helps in physical battle as well, though he tends to rely on his powers more.

the spear was a gift from his mother, the only time he's ever met her or spoken to her.

he tends to make people nervous with so much as a glance.

its not just the fact that he has that demigod aura of power- he's just an intimidating figure.

the air of mystery around him is furthered by how private he is, but he's all smiles and jokes if you're a close friend of his.

knowing how easily he can make someone nervous, Johnny uses it to his advantage often, whether it be to get out of trouble or to get his way.

Taeyong: as a son of Iris!

take a moment to see the vision here folks

he totally has the vibe of a hippie rainbow goddess' son.

was brought to chb when he was fourteen, which is relatively old for a demigod.

the colour of his eyes varies and changes according to his moods and emotions.

when the sun hits his hair it seems like that too changes colour and shifts from one shade to another.

once tried to tie-die his camp half-blood shirt with Jaehyun to make it a little more stylish since the both of them were tired of the bright, unflattering orange. lets just say it did not turn out well.

his weapon of choice is a scimtar - a wicked curved blade.

for someone so peaceful and smiley, he's scary when fighting with his scimtar, quick on his feet and downright deadly. unlike his siblings, who tend to despise conflict, he's one of the best fighters.

like all children of Iris, he can create a rainbow barrier for protection

he possesses photokinesis, a rare power among children of iris, in which he can focus an intense beam of prismatic light which will burn anything it touches.

Doyoung: as a son of Athena!

was taken to camp when he was nine and quickly adapted although he was so young.

the definition of a know-it-all, but its kind of in a lovable way.

he has the habit of rambling so his attempts at sounding all knowledgable tend to come off as dorky a lot of time.

make no mistake though, Doyoung is as cunning and resourceful as they get.

although every child of Athena is talented at battle strategy, Doyoung is the one most of the other campers turn to in times of crisis for guidance through any battle.

spends countless hours reading and studying the old stories of great greek heroes and demigods and his favourite is Odysseus.

is proficient with almost all weapon but usually uses a sword.

his fighting style is more calculated than most, his mind is always racing and thinking about weak spots and dissecting his opponents fighting style and flaws.

although a good fighter, he first and foremost relies on his wit and strategic skills and can make use of whatever is at his disposal to hold his own.

Yuta: as a son of Ares!

competitive little bitch (and we love that for him).

got kicked out of three schools because he would pick fights (and win them).

usually leads during capture the flag.

during battle, there tends to be a somewhat manic glow of delight in his eyes because no matter how dangerous the situation is or how bad the odds are, fighting his what he's the best at.

to him, its an art form.

his weapon of choice is a pair of daggers.

usually children of ares don't opt for small weapons as such, and although he has control over any weapon like Doyoung does - though Yuta's control is more innate and in built- he prefers the versatility his daggers give him.

he's quite deadly with them.

the only person that can take him in a fight is Taeyong, and that is also quite rare.

his fighting skills are enhanced when angry or particularly vengeful.

impulsive when it comes to any sort of fighting - prefers to deal with it head on and directly.

Jaehyun: as a son of Aphrodite!

his birthday is literally on valentines day i will not take criticism about this.

bro is literally stunning.

his weapon of choice is a sword.

a surprisingly competent fighter considering his siblings don't particularly enjoy any form of sparring for the most part, and helps out with teaching the younger campers sword fighting.

has the ability to melt anyone with that pretty boy smile of his.

knows exactly how to win someone over and use his natural charm, but doesn't know how to stop it from going too far, which leads to people falling for him left, right and center.

this doesn't mean he's oblivious to those who like him - make no mistake, he is well aware when someone is crushing on him.

unfortunately, he hasn't quite mastered the art of gently letting someone down, which leads to very awkward moments after some poor soul confesses to him.

thus he unwittingly follows the whole 'heartbreaker' agenda the Aphrodite cabin has, though he doesn't approve of it.

doesn't have charmspeak but can tell when its being used on him.

Jungwoo: as a son of Hephastus!

a literal genius.

could solve college level mathematics in the third grade, but his mother never made that fact known - simply because she knew about his demigod nature, being one of the few mortals who could see through the mist.

she didn't want to attract any more attention than necessary.

first came to camp half blood when he was twelve.

can sense how any sort of mechanism works.

possesses pyrokinesis unlike most children of Hephastus, but it takes a lot out of him.

usually relies on his fire manipulation while fighting, but otherwise makes use of an axe as a weapon.

while he is pretty damn good fighter, he prefers to take a backseat and work behind the scenes on weaponry and creating traps to capture or unarm the enemy.

can easily disarm any traps and can sense them if close by, but can also make traps deadlier.

spends a lot of time in forges.

also loves working with the Hermes' campers to construct devices for pranks for fun.

Haechan: as a son of Apollo!

literal sunshine boy.

must protect at all costs but is honestly quite capable of protecting himself and then some.

his mother is a nurse and with her busy schedule he was left alone at home for the most part when he was younger, so being taken to camp half blood by his satyr when he was 10 seemed like the perfect solution.

chose to be an year-round camper since it was safer that way.

an excellent archer.

isn't much of a healer, but if his siblings need help in the infirmary, he'll assist them.

leans into his musical gifts more - his voice can quite literally make anyone stop in their tracks.

if an especially young demigod shows up at camp, he goes out of his way to make sure they're okay, knowing how daunting it all was when he was their age.

gets along well with the Hermes campers due to his mischievous nature.

his favourite trick is putting a rhyming curse on whoever the victim of his prank is.

[80ssuperstar]

Hey Guys I made this Story that's based on The Ancient Indian Tale of Prince Rama and Princess Sita and the Ten Headed Demon Ravanna but I made it different with the Characters like: Prince Mordecai and Princess Samantha, Ravanna, Hanuman, Bharata, Indrajit, Manthara, Surpanakha, Queen Kaikeyi (Prince Mordecai's Jealous Stepmother)

THE STORY OF MORDECAI AND SAMANTHA:

Once upon a time, in the magnificent kingdom of Ayodhya, there lived a noble prince named Mordecai, beloved by all for his wisdom, courage, and kindness. He was the heir to the throne, destined to rule alongside his beloved wife, Princess Samantha, a woman of unparalleled beauty, grace, and compassion. Their love was the envy of all who beheld it, and their kingdom flourished under their benevolent rule.

However, their happiness was not to last, for lurking in the shadows was the wicked ten-headed demon, Ravanna, whose heart burned with jealousy and malice. Ravanna coveted Princess Samantha for himself, and he plotted to separate her from Prince Mordecai and claim her as his own.

Mordecai: "My dear Samantha, our love is like the eternal flame, burning bright amidst the darkness. Fear not, for I shall always protect you, my beloved."

Samantha: "Oh Mordecai, my heart sings with joy at your words. Together, we shall overcome any obstacle that dares to challenge our love."

One fateful day, as Prince Mordecai and Princess Samantha were taking a leisurely stroll through the enchanted forest that surrounded their kingdom, they came across a wounded deer lying in agony. Princess Samantha's compassionate heart was moved with pity, and she beseeched Prince Mordecai to help the poor creature.

Samantha: "Mordecai, look! A wounded deer lies in distress. Please, we must help it."

Mordecai: "Fear not, my dear Samantha. I shall use my magic to create a protective circle around you. As long as you stay within its bounds, no harm shall befall you."

That night, as Princess Samantha rested within the safety of the magic circle, she heard a terrible cry echoing through the forest. Believing it to be her beloved Mordecai in grave danger, she rushed to his aid, unaware of the treacherous trap that awaited her.

Samantha: "Mordecai! I hear cries of distress! I must go to him at once!"

Mordecai: "No, Samantha! Stay within the circle! It is not safe!"

But it was too late. Ravanna, with his dark magic and deceitful wiles, had disguised himself as Prince Mordecai and lured Princess Samantha out of the protective circle. Seizing her in his powerful grasp, Ravanna vanished into the depths of the forest, leaving behind naught but despair and heartache.

Ravanna: "Foolish princess, to trust in the illusion of safety. Now you are mine, and no one shall stand in my way."

Prince Mordecai, upon discovering his beloved Samantha missing, was consumed with grief and fury. Determined to rescue her from the clutches of the vile Ravanna, he embarked on a perilous journey, aided by his loyal companions, including the mighty monkey warrior Hanuman, the valiant prince Bharata, and the wise sage Vishwamitra.

Hanuman: "Fear not, Prince Mordecai, for I shall lend you my strength and my cunning. Together, we shall vanquish the foul demon Ravanna and rescue Princess Samantha from his grasp."

Bharata: "My lord, I pledge my sword and my loyalty to your cause. Let us march forth and bring justice to the wicked."

Vishwamitra: "Prince Mordecai, the path ahead is fraught with danger, but with courage and determination, you shall prevail. Trust in your heart, and victory shall be yours."

And so, Prince Mordecai and his companions embarked on a perilous quest, braving treacherous jungles, raging rivers, and dark caverns in their relentless pursuit of Ravanna and his captive, Princess Samantha.

Along the way, they encountered many trials and tribulations, including battles with Ravanna's fearsome minions, such as his son Indrajit, the demoness Surpanakha, and the wicked maid Manthara, who sought to thwart their noble quest at every turn.

Indrajit: "You dare to oppose my father, Ravanna? Prepare to face the wrath of Indrajit, the mighty warrior prince!"

Surpanakha: "Ah, Prince Mordecai, how handsome you are! Why waste your time on that insignificant princess when you could have a powerful demoness like me at your side?"

Manthara: "Princess Samantha is a threat to my mistress's ambitions. I shall do everything in my power to ensure that she remains in Ravanna's clutches forever."

But through courage, perseverance, and the power of their unwavering love, Prince Mordecai and his companions overcame every obstacle that stood in their way, drawing ever closer to their ultimate goal of rescuing Princess Samantha from the clutches of Ravanna.

At long last, after a fierce and epic battle that shook the very foundations of the earth, Prince Mordecai confronted Ravanna in his fortress atop the towering mountain of Lanka, where Princess Samantha was held captive.

Mordecai: "Ravanna, your reign of terror ends here and now! Release Princess Samantha, or face the wrath of a righteous prince!"

Ravanna: "Foolish mortal, you dare to challenge me? I am Ravanna, the Lord of Lanka, the most powerful demon in all the realms! You are no match for my might!"

But Prince Mordecai, fueled by his love for Princess Samantha and the strength of his noble heart, fought with a courage and determination that knew no bounds. With the aid of his allies and the blessings of the gods themselves, he clashed with Ravanna in a battle that shook the heavens and the earth.

In the end, it was not the strength of arms or the power of magic that determined the outcome, but the purity of Prince Mordecai's love and the righteousness of his cause. With a final, mighty blow, he vanquished Ravanna and rescued Princess Samantha from the darkness that had ensnared her.

Mordecai: "Samantha, my beloved! Are you hurt? Fear not, for you are safe now, and I shall never let harm befall you again."

Samantha: "Mordecai, my hero! Oh, how I have longed for this moment! With you by my side, I fear nothing, for our love is stronger than any magic or malice in the world."

And so, Prince Mordecai and Princess Samantha returned triumphantly to their kingdom of Ayodhya, where they were greeted with jubilation and celebration by their grateful subjects. Their love had been tested and proven true, and together, they ruled wisely and justly for many years to come, a shining beacon of hope and inspiration to all who beheld them.

THE END!!

I Hope you guys liked it 😊🥰

For: @fxe4596 , @nicomxm23 , @mordorigs , @jgquintelslut , @pinkcandycatmakesart , @anifaz , @isrrael120 , @notadumbdog , @martingeekermmd , @eeveepalooza , @apollothedeity, @sidoresca, @siinhorhy, @insomniacz, @rhyliethecaterfly , @yeetafry, @at-weeb96, @kiwithekool11437, @kiko2032, @orchestralauthor, @untitled14360, @loudlyhappycupcake

[moronkombat]

Hi hi hello how my new favorite person on Tumblr doing? 🌝

May I ask for some fluff/nsfw alphabet for Shang Tsung, please👉👈

Absolutely love all your content <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Aftercare may look a bit different than the conventional cradling embraces. Shang Tsung is more partial to observing the masterpiece he has created within you. He stands over you, that wry smirk seems so carved into him, and eyes scan over the mess you have become. He tells you this too, how beautiful you look and what a piece of art you are

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Shang Tsung's favorite feature is that witty smirk of his. He never wants to hide it and shows it off when certain little plans end in his favor. He wants others to know that he has won. Victories are his confidence and so he boasts them through taunting jeers

When it comes to his partner, Shang Tsung is enamored with their back, specifically the spine. How horribly divine it is to feel its ridges under the pad of a finger. Your grooves dip and bend as he traces them into your skin. It is an enchanting dream for him

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Truly depends on the mood and what he is wanting. However, he does have the rather wicked preference on cumming atop his partner's skin. So sticky and wet you look coated in liquified pearls. He smirks and spreads it around your naval, into your cheeks and chest. Such a pretty portrait you are

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Shang Tsung pleasures himself while watching his partner sleep. There is something just so exciting watching you unaware of his perversions. Never once does he touch you during this, simply observing you breath so lightly and unaware. He often finishes into his hand, watching his seed drip down the length of his fingers before he just so happens to let it drip drip drop onto your skin

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He never truly lets his partner know the level of experience possessed. Shang Tsung prefers to keep it vague and guessing. In truth he has experience but not too much to flaunt. He has enjoyed sex enough to learn what he prefers but also what another likes too

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Shang Tsung has a few preferences. Mainly he prefers his partner on top regularly or reverse and when you are on your side one leg hiked into the air. Likes to change positions frequently during sex with his partner

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I wouldn't call sex serious when with Shang Tsung but it is not humorous either. It is more of a teasing experience with him laying languid taunts to his parent and laughing at their reactions to his touch

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Exceptionally groomed and completely shaven. He finds it bothersome not to keep himself clean there and so he always makes it a point to remove any hair hidden under clothing

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Largely depends on the mood of moment. Shang Tsung largely prefers teasing experiences but let's say he is truly madly deeply in love with his partner, then he will make it romantic. If he is more obsessed with his partner the romance is a bit more warped and twisted

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Yes but infrequently. When he is feeling the urge, Shang Tsung merely seeks his parent out to sate his needs. If his partner is unavailable then he may engage but it is not very often. He typically has his ways of convincing his lover into the bedroom

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Restraints- Cannot get enough of using restraints during sex. Loves to tie his partner up in all the different ways he can. There is power and control when he pulls those bindings so tight. There is so escape unless he grants it and that is quite the treat

Leather- Shang Tsung adores leather and wants to use it on his partner and himself. He is very fond of the feeling of leather on his skin and he is even more entranced by the marks it leaves on yours

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

On a desk or another hard surface. He likes to indulge in his partner when he works on his research. It makes him feel even more powerful knowing he takes you in the same place he dominates the field of research. He also likes when his partner is suspended in the air with ropes and chains

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Shang Tsung is turned on by many things but he is most aroused by his partner's curves and hips. He wants to watch those hips sway and move. Predatory eyes watch you go and his head will turn to enjoy the show while you pass by. This hunter is quick to stalk his prey before he pounces and consumes

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

A big no for him is his partner hitting him in the bedroom. Shang Tsung has taken beatings throughout his life and to be struck brings up those memories and has him feeling rather pitiful

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Has no real preference over one or the other. Both give him a sense of power and control so it largely depends on how he feels like expressing that control and what will amuse him the most

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Sex can vary from very fast and rough to very slow and taunting. Shang Tsung prefers to take his time with his partner. He wants them thoroughly used and satisfied. If you're going into the bedroom with him, expect to be there for awhile and to say your prayers because Shang Tsung loves to tease

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Doesn't mind them and will engage in them at times. However, like stated previously, he enjoys taking his time with his partner and a quickie does not allow for that

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He is anything but vanilla. He is always wanting to experiment with his partner. New positions, new kinks? He's up for them. He enjoys knowledge and knowledge includes bedroom practices. He's more than eager to try out all his finding on his partner. He makes sure they both have a grand time

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Shang Tsung doesn't have a time limit and will go until he and his partner are sated. While he may not be the most athletically built, his endurance is not something to be trifled with

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Shang Tsung owns a variety of toys but he does not use them on himself. They are rather exclusively for his partner and euphorically taunting you with them. He has quite the collection and is very keen on using them all on your body

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Tends to be terribly unfair during sex. He finds the whines and cries of his partner so very pleasant and so he will be sure to tease them relentless. It does not last forever, he still wants his partner to experience the greatness he is feeling. Still, his partner's reactions under his control provides no greater high

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Relatively quiet save for dirty whispers and chuckling. It is not often that he vocalizes his own pleasure. He would much rather hear yours

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

An avid fan of dirty talk and degradation. He will call you pathetic when you whine. But it is not an insult. Shang Tsung poses them as compliments

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His build is lean and toned. Muscles are not chiseled but they are defined if you were to feel them. He is more of a grower than a shower, with him presenting rather long when in the heat of the moment

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Higher than average when in a relationship with a partner. When single, it is rather low as he does not pay attention to those urges. When with a partner, however, he craves them carnally daily

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Is usually pretty tired after sex but will never fall asleep before his partner no matter how exhausted he is. He will wait until you do first and then follow

[doodle-pops]

Dusk Till Dawn

Turgon x reader

Kinktober 2023: Squirting

A/N: My first time writing a single piece for Turgon and I enjoyed every second of it :)

Warnings: fem!reader, squirting, a slight overstimulation, Turgon being a tease and letting loose, dom!Turgon, a bit of power play, marathon sex

Words: 3.3k

Synopsis: Your King learns of your unique ability and makes use of it to pleasure himself all night.

List of Requests

“What’s the matter? Tired already?” His voice sounded mocking, and the uncommon nature of the King, as he stood at the end of the bed with an unphased and energetic expression.

How had you been going at it? Minutes that turned into hours that stretched into an eternity. You’d been tossed about the bed into complex positions to suit your King’s insatiable pleasure, a desire he kept sedated and suppressed out of fear and disgust. Now, he towered like an eternal being, body fit and filled with vigour for days to satisfy his hunger. The wickedly sinful lopsided smirk he gazed upon you with as his right hand roamed his body, slipping lower to grip his erect cock, stirred your rearranged insides. You could feel the tingling sensation building; your legs reacted, shutting themselves. His eyes didn’t miss the gesture, knowing it was the result of his undeniable wicked charm.

Panting the more you gazed upon his body, ripples of muscles just waiting to crush you under its weight, flexed and shifted for you to admire. Your eyes roamed from his pensive stare to his pectorals to his abdomen, all the way past his cock to his thighs. Those were the same muscles you adored whenever he trained in the early morning, now mocking you in delight of wanting more. It felt great to be pressed into the mattress by the giant stoic King; had you known there was the possibility he contained a loose bone, matters would have been enacted earlier instead of the tumultuous situation.

“My King…forgive me, but I was merely astonished by your raw power and strength. I require a moment to breathe,” you laboured, chest rapidly embarking on a journey to recover your momentum.

Instead of feeling sympathy on behalf of your problem, Turgon breathlessly grinned and hung his head to snicker. He warned you that this could possibly end wrong given his current disposition of not being enticed in years, and you informed him of your manageable abilities. Yet here you were, begging for resuscitation. Taking a step closer, knee touching the bedframe, his hand reached out to grip your thighs and pull you down. His body easily coveted your tiny figure with the devilish gleam in his eyes; who was this person? “Your expressions humour me milady. You would never expect a reserved person like me to have a display and appetite like this.”

Closing the gap by pressing his body against yours, his hands reached for you and intertwined them above your head. Without hesitation, his lips crashed against yours for another mouthful of air, swarming butterflies in your core. Your whines and moans were devoured effortlessly by his tongue the deeper he pressed on while your arousal slowly flowed out your cunt, adding to the stains already left on his cock. The friction from his erection rubbing against your fold accompanied by the waltz of your tongues left you shivering and covered in goosebumps. Each swirl of his tongue in your cavern left you panting and grinding into him aggressively.

Your legs, despite their soreness, wrapped around his slender waist and hooked their ankles to lock him in place. What an unorthodox contradiction you were exhibiting—it showed how much you craved him despite your mind pushing against the lethargy. Your body was your greatest traitor, and it did not please your mind knowing that Turgon manipulated its desires into feeding his salacious prowess appetite. His laughter echoed through the kiss and settled in the depths of your mind, melting the very fibre of your dignity and casting an enchantment. His sorcery was unmatched the more his tongue wrapped around yours and pulled sighs and indescribable moans out of your throat.

The yearning sensation grew when his grip around your wrist tightened and pressed greatly into the mattress. Now you understood what a warrior's grip felt like and meant. The deadliness and precision of his hands as they held you secure and firmly left you enjoying the pleasures of his hands. He was eating your lips and his body moved in great seduction. Grinding and gyrating against you in a mating ritual dance to hypnotize your body, soul and mind; to give your all and allow him to have his way.

Growing breathless as your kiss escalated, he broke it to stare with hazy turquoise eyes and reddened lips. “You told me you wanted this from the very start; can you handle the rest?” he whispered sincerely as he bit his lip.

Finding it impossible to reply as his hips slowly ground his cock through your folds, you choked on air, basking in the pulsation that developed from the motion. The little heartbeat in your cunt produced an alluring rhythm, preventing his erection from slowing its pacing, urging it to continue. Turgon was conscious of his actions, he bathed in your pheromones and body’s desire to satisfy the depraved beast. It was years since he had the bliss of indulging in pleasure in the highest form, and when you offered yourself to him so sweetly like a sacrifice, how could he refuse.

Releasing his left hand from your wrist, his fingers ghosted over your sweaty skin—dancing and adding to the sensations—to grip his cock and align it with your entrance. No time was wasted after seeing your response; Turgon slipped in to relish in the temporary absence of your warmth. His body crumbled momentarily, dropping more weight and immobilising you completely. The shudders of his pleasure rippled violently throughout his body, heightening all your senses and pushing you to the edge.

The very weight of his cock resettled within your heat, surrounded by the warmth and softness of your gummy walls pulsating and massaging his cock had his hips gyrating against yours. It had only been six minutes since he had returned to your heavenly temple, and it felt like a lifetime; your walls contracted to adjust to the sheer thickness he was endowed and Turgon swore to the heavens that it felt like the first entry. “It doesn’t matter how many times I have you tonight; you’ll always squeeze me so tightly,” his voice was raspy and stuffy as he struggled to focus.

The weight of him once more filled you to the brim; you should know that a King as regal and elegant as him would no doubt carry proportions to display his sophistication. Where he lacked in grith, he fulfilled in length and weight, and that one single vein that ran alongside his length. A hollow groan escaped his throat as your warmth enveloped him like a cocoon, swaddling him in a blanket.

Look up, your vision was blurred by the dark locks of his head buried in the crook of your neck. The warmth of his breath as he panted and slowly made the first move to pull out, produced ripples of goosebumps across your body. Your free hand shot out to dig its nails into his back while your body arched into his. The delicious friction of your nipples gliding across his sweaty chest, and the grip his hands fought to hold on your thigh sent shivers down your spine. Turgon had no time to build any momentum and went straight for his target, to get you incapacitated before the night was over.

Straightening his posture and rising from your body, you had a curt moment to breathe before your body was being manhandled and dragged further down the bed to meet the edge. Tossing your legs haphazardly over his shoulder, one hand rested on your thigh while the other released your hand and rubbed at your clit effortlessly. The slick sounds of sweaty skin slapping against each other reverberated off the walls of his royal chamber alongside his grunts and groans. You watched as he majestically stretched his neck backwards to present his elongated, swan-like throat to moan. The way his dark strands fell over his shoulders and cascaded down his back was meticulously thought out; he knew what he was doing with every action of his, and it was astonishing to see him so relaxed.

Struggling to keep up and fighting to swallow the whiny moaned as his hips continued to drive his cock deeper, your hands came down to grip his wrist for stability. You could feel the pressure easily building as his thrusts grew with expertise and sin. Toes curling and eyes rolling, Turgon had you in an ensnared and eating out of the palms of his hands. The way his thumb would thoroughly rub circles on your clit, meeting the rolls of his hips that caused his tip to forever brush against your sweet spot; you were close to paradise.

“I can feel something coming love. Are you giving it to me like you promised?” he asked, lips running across your chest before latching to your left nipple.

Nodding and whining some incomprehensible response because the pressure was building at insurmountable heights, your grips around his wrists tightened synchronically with your walls. The loud hiss escaping his lips as he felt your gummy walls clamping down on his cock forced his hips to stutter before regaining their momentum. He laughed into your skin and continued to suckle your breast, switching from left to right.

“T–Turukáno… Please, My King—oh Eru!” you wailed into the air, eyes shut and body convulsing as the pressure snapped. You released; you came.

Sensing the insurmountable build-up of pressure pushing against his cock and movements, he slowed his thrusts and was met with the surprise of a lifetime. Caught in between watching you spasm and enjoying the liquid expelling from your cunt, Turgon pulled away from your breast to cast sparkled turquoise eyes at your orgasm. He didn’t stop, only slowing down to ease your sensitivity and observed the volume being expelled, a dazzling smile struck him. With a bite to his bottom lip followed by a lick, his thumb returned to your clit without hesitation and regained a languorous rhythm.

Turning his thrusts at snail’s pace at first, he arched over your body and hovered his lips above yours. “My, my, my. Is this why you didn’t want to continue in the first place darling?” his whisper was enchanting, prompting you to peek at him through slithered lids. Your chest heaved laboriously as you fought to catch your breath and maintain a focused gaze on him. The urge to roll your eyes again was beckoning from his torturous actions was dire.

Not a soul would suspect their King having qualities to classify him as villainous, but physical intimacies always brought out another side to people. As timid and skittish as he appeared, the key factor was the blood of Finwe coursing through his veins. The hunger and passion to perform like his life was dependent on it was crucial. “N–Not at all my King, never!” Your voice was faint and softer with a soreness lingering; courtesy of all the screaming he had you performing earlier.

“Really? Then you will oblige should I desire another, and another, and more…” He brushed yours before he took your bottom lips into his mouth and nibbled on it. The serenity of the lustful aura he released had a chokehold placed on your fuzzy brain; you couldn’t tell up from down, left from right. If your King said to be his mistress, wife or anything else, you’d happily oblige without insurgency.

Small trickles of your release flowed out and soaked his entire length as its pace picked up. Your legs dangled over his shoulder and your body perfectly pressed you into the mattress. All the rings of cream you left on him earlier disappeared as he was cleansed by the essences you withheld. As his pace doubled and tripled, the obscene slapping of sweaty and wet skin against each other reverberated throughout the room. Loud gasps and small chuckles as his hand slipped while gripping the back of your thigh followed. You were folded in half while your feeble attempts at gripping his thighs to slow him down were futile. A roll of his hips and your moans were stuck in your throat.

“Fighting me now, hmm? Ngh…don’t want to serve your King and give me what I desire?” he tantalisingly whispered now that his lips were ghosting the shell of your ear. “You promised to satisfy me all night; why are you running?”

Trembling in his hold as he pounded into you, the force creating creaks in the bedframe, you struggled to shake your head at him as tears pooled and cascaded down your cheeks. The shakiness in your breathing as your body moved up and down the bed from his powerful thrusts, knocked all the wind out of your lungs. He was rattling your skeleton and you could feel it jiggling inside.

As the temperature of the room rose, so did the heat in your breaths and bodies. He felt uncomfortably hot as his skin was stuck to yours; sweat dripping down his muscles and rolling over the curves as his body clung to yours. Chest to chest, his was rubbing against your nipples creating a luscious friction that synchronically fell into a rhythm with his thumb drawing circles on your clit. If your head wasn’t spinning then, it most certainly was now. “Oh Eru…hmm, fuck! So good, so good, fuck!” you screeched into the heated air, nails digging into his thick, muscular thighs as his cock drove deeper hitting your sweet spot.

You couldn’t begin to compare how artfully magnificent his thrusts were. With each sinful roll of his hips, you felt like a story was being told; one of lust and desire, another one of loneliness and a yearning for companionship and one of unfulfilled desires treated shamefully. You knew of his loneliness after the passing of his wife, all his frustration pent up without an escape. He was a like bubbling pot with a sealed lid, waiting to explode. It was safe to say, you considered yourself lucky to catch his eyes to relieve his sexual tendencies and he was living up to all your fantasies and more. The King of your city had you sprawled out on his bed with your legs dangling over his shoulder while plunging his cock into your cunt for his satisfaction. You were a gift in his eyes, and he would choose no other to be with at that moment.

Shutting your eyes to relish at the moment properly, a yelp slipped out when he pressed more of his weight onto you, leaving you immobilised, thoroughly. Dropping your hands from his thighs, they reached for the bedsheets, not caring if you tore them apart as he battered your insides. His vigorous thrusting left your ass reddened from the weighted impact with every collision. In addition, his heavenly grunts and moans in your ear were a melody crafted by the Gods, it made your essence trickle from your cunt. “Your cunt sounds so sweet, music to my ears,” he cooed, “but I want to hear it squirting for me. Can you give me another release love? I know you can.”

Whining to look up at his face as he pulled back to hover, you could barely get a syllable out. A hand left your thigh and slithered up your torso, stopping to grope your breast and tweak your nipples before arriving at your face. He wasted no time cupping your chin and forcing you to look at his turquoise eyes. “Is my Lady going to cum for her King? Are you going to give it to me…” His eyes bore holes into yours, and his sinister smirk wasn’t helping as your walls began contracting and the pulsation grew in tempo.

You could feel your heart beating in the core of your cunt, right where his tip met your sweet spot. All the butterflies that swarmed your stomach left and travelled to your cunt to meet your heartbeat and increased the sensations. The widening of your eyes as your breathing shortened and released in small intervals had your muscles clenching around his cock tighter. The choked sob and stutter in his hips were no escape to cease performing, for he tunnelled through your gummy walls and left them battered. His goal: rearrange your insides and get you to squirt now that he knew it was possible.

“Tu–Tur–…fuck! I can feel it, it’s there…ngghh!” you wailed. Your nails had tightened their grip on the luxurious fabric and tugged with aggression as the pressure built with nowhere left to run.

“That’s it, good girl, just like that,’ he praised as the motion of his thumb steadied and he felt a force opposing the thrusting of his cock. For now, it was pleasant if he had not cum and painted your walls in his release, he was taken caught up in the bliss of knowing that he could pull such a reaction out of you. It went to show that he still had his abilities after all those lonely years without practice. Now all that meant was for him to continue his ministrations to regain his prowess.

Without a second to lose, Turgon wanted to savour the moment you squirted everything on him and drew closer to capture your lips. Eating your lips and moans, he breathed into your mouth at the insurmountable pressure that collided with his cock and sprayed all over his lower abdomen and thighs. You could feel your body shuddering as the dams broke and expelled everything you had all over him. The moans of satisfaction that vibrated in his chest through the kiss alerted you of his contentment. Shivering violently in his arms, your hands slipped in between and pushed against his stomach to cease his thrusting; he was still going without any remorse for your sensitivity. “Turukáno, ease…ease up on me, please. Sensitive,” you cried out.

Reluctantly he slowed his thrusting until they came to a stop, he eased out with an obscene squelch and stood climbed off the stand at the edge. Curling up as your legs flopped off his shoulders, your body convulsed and shook as though you’d been electrocuted.

The chuckle that followed when he gazed at your fucked out state, lips swollen and red, eyes hazy and teary, loopy smile, tear-stained cheeks, hair tangled and a sweaty body, he mentally gave himself a pat on his back. You observed the way he licked his lips as his eyes roamed your body while grinning and shutting your eyes with a dazed smile. The image of him stoking his cock as though he wasn’t tired was painted vividly in your imagination. Enough to tell you that your night wasn’t over.

“Tired?” his voice rang with concern, eyes cautious gauging your reaction and body for injury.

Squinting through your right eye, you noticed his arched brows, meditatively waiting for your reply. “Well, what you suspect Your Majesty? You’re the one who laid the damages.”

Chortling, he placed a knee beside your limped body and beamed, “You look like you could do with another round to remedy your fatigue. I’m still becharmed by your little trick for I desire to see more.”    

Flashing a look of scepticism at him, both eyes were opened staring at him with livid horror. “Your Majesty—Turukáno, you can’t be joking?!”

“I’m not. You commanded that you would be the source of my pleasure tonight, and to that I oblige,” he charmed with a magical grin as his body slid over yours like a snake. “Now be a good girl and spread your legs for me, I wish to note if my fingers can do the same.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @eunoiaastralwings @koyunsoncizeri @ranhanabi777 @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @rain-on-my-umbrella @the-phantom-of-arda @singleteapot @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner @batsyforyou

[cuti3pi5]

Once upon a dream

 Pairings- Hyunjin x fm reader 

 Summary- Prince Hyunjin the eldest son of the royal family was destined to rule the kingdom. Prince Hyunjin had undergone rigorous training to soon take over the throne. His skills with a blade were unmatched. He was more than fit to rule his father's kingdom. Yet he was assigned a final task to prove his worthiness for the throne. His father had given him the task of entering the dangerous enchanted forest. He must slay the powerful wicked fairy and retrieve her wings only then will he earn his throne and be crowned king. But what happens once Hyunjin meets this fairy and realizes she might not be as evil as the rumors are.

 Genre- Fluff

 Word count- Still in progress

AN- Hello!! This is my first-ever post. I'm still writing this story and just wanted to give out a bit of a teaser. Please let me know if anyone is actually interested in reading this. Writing isn't my strongest skill so if I make any mistake or you wanna leave any feedback don't be scared to point it out. Anyway just let me know if anyone is interested and I’ll do my best to finish it!!!

-——————————- ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚—————————

[bookshelf-in-progress]

The Golden Shoe: A Cinderella Retelling

Once there was a princess who was her father’s only heir. When she came of age, a series of balls were held, and the man she would choose to wed would become her country’s next king. Every man in the kingdom, from peasant to prince, was invited, but the princess was pleased with none of them.

Late in the evening, a stranger arrived--a handsome youth, fair to behold, in garments that seemed woven of the light of the stars. For the rest of the evening, the princess would dance with none but him. His manners, his kindness, and his grace impressed her deeply, but before she could ask his name, the great castle clock began to chime the midnight hour. Her partner made his excuses and fled from the ballroom, and though the princess pursued, he had disappeared down the palace stairs by the time the twelfth bell tolled.

The stranger returned to the next evening’s ball, wearing clothes that seemed to glow with the light of the moon, and once again the princess danced with no other. Whispers raced through the ballroom. Who was he? Where was he from? Some claimed him he was a foreign royal, others said he was a notorious outlaw, and still others said he could only be a prince from among fairy-kind. Though the princess stayed by his side all night, she could not pry from him a single answer.

Once again, when the clock struck twelve, her partner began to flee. The princess held his hands and begged him to stay, but he told her that she must allow him to leave before the toll of the midnight bell. When she asked him why, he gave no answer, but fled down the stairs and disappeared so thoroughly that none among the palace guard could find him.

The next morning, the princess spoke to her godmother about the mysterious stranger. Tonight would be the final ball, and there was no other man that she so wished to marry. But her godmother advised her this would not be wise. The stranger could be anyone--an enemy prince, a wicked enchanter, even a beast in human form. If the princess wished to find the truth, she could not let her partner flee at midnight. On her godmother’s advice, the princess ordered that the great palace staircase, down which her partner always fled, be spread with pitch, in the hopes that it would hold him fast and break whatever spell hid his secrets.

At the final ball, the stranger appeared just as before, in clothes so grand that they seemed to shine as bright and golden as the sun itself. The princess had never been so charmed, or so in love, and she could not even think of another partner. The hours slipped away, until at last the palace clock began to chime twelve.

As before, her partner fled, but this time, his shoes caught in the pitch on the stairs. One foot came free, and the shoe stuck to the stairs, but the other foot was held fast, and there, the princess saw, her partner still stood when the twelfth bell tolled.

The stranger's golden finery faded, leaving him clad in ragged clothes. “What have you done?” he cried. “Now I am lost without hope.”

He told her he was prince of a far-off land, and his stepfather was a wicked enchanter, who wished to take the prince’s country for his own two wicked sons. The enchanter had kept the prince in ragged servitude, but his power could have been broken if the prince had come to this ball and won the princess’ heart, so long as no one knew his name or nation and only if he did not stay past midnight. Now he would be taken back to his nation, hidden away among the people. No one would know his name or his face, and none would find him, until the stolen shoe was back upon his foot and the princess claimed him as her beloved.

With that, the prince disappeared, leaving the princess with nothing but a golden shoe stuck to the stair.

The princess journeyed across kingdoms trying the shoe upon every man she met, but finding none whose foot it fit. At long last, weary and ragged, she came upon a cottage in the wood, where lived a young man. His manners were charming, and the princess thought that at last she had found her beloved. She asked him to try the shoe, and when he put his foot within, it fit perfectly. She shouted for joy, and begged the man to return to her kingdom with her, where she could claim him as her husband and break the enchanter’s spell.

But as they traveled down the dusty road, a bird fluttered overhead, and bade the princess look again. There was blood in the young man’s shoe, and it fit only because he had cut off his toe. Then she knew him for the enchanter’s son, and fled from him down a dark and lonely road.

There she wandered for days, lost and afraid, until she came upon another cottage. Here she found another young man, kind and fair of face, and her heart rose with hope that she had found her beloved at last. His foot fit within the golden shoe, and she bade him come with her out of this dark wood. They had not gone far before another bird whispered warning, and the princess saw that blood filled this man’s shoe as well. He had cut off part of his heel to fit his foot within the shoe, because he was not her beloved at all, but the enchanter’s other son. The princess fled from him, and was soon lost in the darkness of the forest.

She wandered until she was nearly dead, until at last she came to a tiny hovel in the middle of the woods. There she met an old man, who nursed her back to health and asked to know her story. She told him of her quest to find her lost prince, and he told her that she would surely not find him in these dark woods. No doubt the enchanter held the prince close to the palace. The old man promised to show the princess a path that would take her there, far away from this dark and hopeless wilderness.

The princess thanked the old man for his help, but as she was about to take her leave, she saw footprints in the ashes of the hearth. “These are not yours,” she told the old man. “There is another who lives here.”

“It is only my servant,” the old man replied. “A ragged wretch who gathers food and cleans the hearth.”

“All the same,” the princess said, “I should like to try the shoe upon him.”

She followed the ashy footprints until she found a young man in a dirty corner of the kitchen. He was covered in cinders from head to foot and did not speak a word when she asked him his name. Yet she slid the shoe upon his foot and found it fit perfectly. Then her eyes were opened, and she recognized the young man who’d won her heart those months ago.

The princess took her beloved's hand and fled. The old man roared with rage--for he was the enchanter himself--but though he tried to pursue the pair in the forest, the birds came down from the trees and plucked his eyes from his head, and he could follow them no further.

The princess brought her prince back to her kingdom. She declared before her court that she would marry him and no other. Then his rags and cinders became golden finery once more, and all knew him for the mysterious prince who’d come to the ball. Soon, the two were wed and their countries were joined, and if they have not died, they may be living still.

[unsleepingtales]

Episode 19 reactions/freakouts/etc! Major spoilers ahead obviously!

Holy fuck that set is SO COOL

Did they fucking enchant Scheherazade.

Noooo Cindy.

Oh SHIT Zac nat20 right out the gateeeeee

What if they one hit ko raps. Insane.

No minutes at all. You have no idea. What her powers are.

Okay so she’s still gonna take damage. What an inSANE first turn.

SLITS her THROAT???

Tim’s mini is delightful

The mechanic of them having different diplomacy levels with different characters is so so good. So real. I need to have coffee with Brennan Lee Mulligan.

Oh my god I know it wasn’t on purpose but Cinderella saying As You Wish is giving me Thoughts

I feel like I’m in summer school top ten insane Ally Beardsley statements

Elodyyyyy

Gerard what are you DOING

Just be normal. Cmon.

Rosamund 40 points of necrotic damage off the bat holy shit. CIRCLE OF DEATH SPELL? What the fuck is that.

Miraaaaa I need to hug her

YES convince her please she needs to be ok

Oh that’s such a cool visual holy shit

Lou Wilson is so so good. He’s so good at what he does.

I DONT WANT MY STORY TO END HERE

Brennan going “Baba, what are we going to do?” Wild thing for him to do tbh

Everybody but me going to die here??????

(Pib clocks that)

“I love a crone” so true Emily

Saving Face is such a wild thing

ELODY THERE IS HOPE IN THE WORLD

You’re going to get a chance to tell your story. This is the end of everything and you haven’t been given your moment.

You can make a new most important part of your life. You can learn and grow. Things don’t just end!

It doesn’t have to be the way that it was.

I’m just gonna be a weird little guy and see what happens! So true bestie!

Rapunzel is so nuts btw

RED

Soooo saaaad

Oh my god the editing on that shot was incredible

I love things that make Brennan, the DM trying to kill them, go “oooh sick”

Telekinetic shove???? So cool

Telekinetic shoving someone into your arms. Saying we care for the stories. Not being able to break through. Oh my god. The emotions in this silly little dice game.

What a delightful interlude before Pib fucking dies.

Ally is just talking so well today.

STOP HURTING HIM. THIS ISNT THE PLAN. SOBBING.

104 HP. The books dealt 106 HP. Insanity. 18 d10????? The fuck Brennan??

Rosamund full dead? Rosamund full dead?? The dome did the thing. Rosamund full dead.

:(

WHAT

New mini new mini

Hey Brennan quick q what the fuck

Oh NOW she gets her head in the game?

YES baba yaga

YOU MAHST WAKE AAHP (slap)

I love them fucking with his ruler

Elody the ally <3

Oooh Murph that’s such a cool ability.

SHE ONLY HAS 25 HP RN????

Zac facial expressions my beloved <3

Battle master is so fucking cool.

YES MURPH GET HER MURPH

My wife is my friend now.

Rapunzel talking to elody about her life choices as she’s being eaten was so funny for Brennan to do

It SPINS Rick Perry let me work for you I’m begging

Hyena???

God, the idea of Mira using her legs as weapons. Kicking Snow White in the head. So many thoughts.

Holy shit necrotic sleeping beauty killing necromancer snow white is so insane

Insane shit from Baba Yaga.

I love the dialogue choices Brennan makes for her

Oh god the faint whisper of Something Wicked This Way Comes before the faeries reveal. Wild.

See you in the stars I fuckin guess

Preview:

IS THAT A FUCKING INK HAND

Fireworksssss

Oh that was his Cinderella voice.

Oh my god the gems. Brennan what the fuck are you doing.

[jimmythejiver]

I don't have the citations and receipts to prove it, but I swear most creative decisions in the post-Eisner era of Disney has been fueled by the fact that their biggest rival Universal owned the rights to Wicked.

Think about the fact that they had Stephen Schwartz on Pocahontas and Hunchback of Notre Dame during the Renaissance and got him for their send up Enchanted which like Tangled and Frozen would not be what they are without Wicked from the stupid titling scheme to initially hiring Kristen Chenoweth as Rapunzel before replacing her with Mandy Moore and ultimately hiring Idina Menzel for Elsa and deciding she ain't so bad after all and hell let's delete Kai and invent Anna the plucky contrast to her to really drive it home.

How about the fact that they bought and made a meh adaptation of Into The Woods, the original 'Kind is not Good' fairytale subversion broadway show. The okay that was a thing Maleficent movies where the king rips off her wings and Mal was misunderstood she was Briar Rose's real protector, see.

The fact that they sure love to market their villains, but boy do they not like to make new ones that aren't corrupted forces of nature that need their heart back to be good again or c.e.o.'s who gave us utopia only to find out he killing the planet oopsies or deceptive seemingly trustworthy Wizard-like authority figures who will stab you in the back in their best interest. A villain is either a twist to be subverted or is the hero you followed along, see. Something tells me the Mufasa movie is their half-apology or reasoning for why Scar is like that when the new Aladdin and Little Mermaid did shit for Jafar or Ursula but make them bland because they didn't have time to bake another uwu, babied misunderstood anti-villain so they made sure they can't chew the scenery or have too big of personalities to latch onto by children either, that be irresponsible.

Disney wants Elphaba and they're mad they don't have the special sauce that Broadway somehow wrangled out of a confusing book full of misdirection that pleased no one but the author and people who hate the Judy Garland film and would never read Frank L. Baum anyway to understand these characters are just different from that film and the shoes were not the Wicked Witch's birthright she wanted their power, it was not that deep, but so much of Maguire's decisions don't work once you account for Baum's that never accounted for the future MGM's art and costuming department, casting and script consolidations, but all Disney sees is, 'That Judy Garland movie should've been ours and fuck these people making sequels and prequels, those should've been ours.'

We see the root of this problem that existed before Eisner took over with Return to Oz under Ron Miller. As a company they've never forgiven anyone for having piece of the Oz pie. Oh, post-Eisner they swung their dick again and made that forgettable James Franco prequel, I almost forgot! A warning to Universal who guarded Wicked's movie rights for decades and the anger they have that Warner Bros. still owns the rights to the Judy Garland film while all of Baum's books are in the public domain before Eisner's lawyers could lobby with Senator Bono to extend copyright law in the 90's.

Eisner cooperated with Warner Bros. to license an Oz sequence with an advance for it's time Wicked Witch animatronic in the Great Movie Ride, in fact a majority of the films i. Thatbride came from WB's vault. Bob Iger let that ride get scrapped for Pirates of the Carribean's update for Red. You know what else Eisner didn't do that Bob Iger did? Not make a stupid Cruella prequel to explain why she's so misunderstood, just a straight live action remake of the cartoon and Jungle Book that was boring, and not a whole lot of these were as churned out in his era as there was bad sequels to the cartoons, but oops Iger's doing that too.

Real point is Wicked the musical premiered in 2003, Eisner stepped down in 2005. Eisner and his people couldn't figure out the Snow Queen as anything but a romantic comedy co-starring a villain love interest because he forgot Ariel existed as a misunderstood and manipulated hero who could have served as a template for another similar Andersen character. Under Iger's people they casted og Elphaba and decided halfway they needed to not make her a villain after all. Coincidence? I think not!

[gangrenados]

Sinful tragedy

Summary: Demystifying an old myth becomes a difficult task when you come face to face with it. Jason is a demon as old as time and will do anything to have you at his mercy.

(Demon!Jason Todd x reader)

-@astroherogirl ! Ilashka, my dear, thank you for being my right hand with this😚💖

-@me0nji thank you for letting me use you absolutely beautiful drawing 💖💖💖

Warning: since this is inspired in this picture it will contain certain topics that some people don't take too lightly and I understand, that's why if the church, nuns, demons and all that aspects makes you uncomfortable, please do not read this.

Also dub-con, blood, sex and possibly death, but in a kinder note it's not that kinky 🤷🏽‍♀️

This a more slutty Jason cuz I just got those vibes

 You clutched at your jacket once the windy weather became too cold to handle. Nothing was more pleasant than walking by your own on the empty streets of Gotham on such night that gave you goosebumps anytime you looked at your sides.

People like you didn't last long in this city, they were easy prey for those who didn't care about others.

Both the living and the death haunted the fools who thoughts that just because the vigilantes lurked on the shadows their lives would be safe.

It was such a pity that tonight you belong in that vulnerable group. But you knew your friends weren't that far away, you could call for help and there would be an slim chance that you'll be okay.

Besides that, haunting for spirits was the most unreal thing in the world. It was a vain child tale, nothing would happen when you show up to the supposedly enchanted church.

The old myth of a demon as old as time that marauder the place looking like a nun was just that: a myth. The church looked like any normal church during daytime and it would be the same right now.

But your friends wanted more than that, they wanted to know the real thing. They convinced you to go there, swearing that you'll be watched on and will act if anything seems remotely wrong.

After all, the tale just talked about one person confronting the entity, one person to drive crazy.

You shook your heard, this stupid thoughts were tricking your brain into giving it power to something that didn't even existed. You made it clear to your friends you'd only do this to shut them up, after this they better get over this demon nonsense and get on the line.

But now that you were face to face with church you're will power dropped to the floor.

Underneath the pale moonlight it looked impressive, not even the scarred paint, fallen walls and graffities that adorned every surface could take way it's terrifying look.

You wanted to go back home, this was too much to handle; your whole body was starting to tremble, but you felt lured to go inside. It was like someone took over your body and made you walk, you were just a observant of your own actions.

Anxiety was starting to clog your mind, your breathing hitched on your throat as you found yourself in the mildly broken altar.

Dust covered the whole place making you not want to touch anything, but you still had the duty to prove if the myth of the nun was true or just an old tale.

"Fuck..." you said under your breath while finding the little to not  will you had to start the call for old entities. You set your bag in the dusty floor and looked for two red candles and a little knife.

The light would bright the path between life and death, the red candles meaning your want to call out for the underworld and your blood an offer to the old demon. The only thing you had to do is cut your hand and pour the blood into the soft fire, but it was easier to say than done.

"Beneath the darkness within us, I call you to be proven" your words echoed on the building, making the fire fickle a little. You hoped you wouldn't forget the spell and the fire to not die so easily. " To show that I'm pure and worth of the heavenly kingdom above mortals..."

"Come and feed of my flesh and blood to see that I am not going to break in front of temptations." Your eyes danced across the hall, looking for a sign that this foolery was making effect. Nothing happened between the seats or beyond the building, everything was as calm as when you entered.

You couldn't deny that you felt silly for even thinking this was going to work, but still keep looking for something and the few paintings on the walls were something you couldn't take your eyes off.

A weird feeling grew on you, something was off and the way the fire died so abruptly was a clear prove of it.

"You know it's rude to stare?" That voice almost gave you a heart attack, you jumped backwards lightly as you hold your chest tightly.

A young man appeared from the sacristy, he walked up to you with a haughty, almost cheeky attitude and you could only  frowned when you looked him up and down, the  looked so out of place between the religious enviroment

His strong ars werecovered in fine black lingerie giving him a classy aspect, while the kinky black leather hugged his body perfectly, resalting his chest in a way that it made you wonder how it must feel dragging your fingers against his abs and pectorals.

He showed it proudly, making you feel shy around his boldness and the thoughts that crossed through your head, however, you couldn't hang your head, too embarrassed to see  what's beyond the hips.

The stranger tapped impatiently against the chipped wooden floor, he dragged a puff from his cigar and exhaled the smoke slowly in the air." So, what are you doing here?"

You could ask the same question to such a particular man, although you rather hold that information on yourself and save the mockery. "It's not your business."

You sharp tone made him scoff, "So we have a fighter here!" the man said in a joyous tone that caused you to frown." It's been quite a while since i have seen one, but I'm not complaining..."

"The fuck you mean by that?"

He shrugged off as he throw the cigar on the floor and stomped it."Now you're forgetful? You called me, sweetheart."

Your heart felt to the floor as those words left his mouth and echoed in your head in painful motion. "So you're real?"

"Yes, and the name's Jason." The demon nodded, exposing a smile that you could spot two White fangs you guessed were Sharp enough to cut through skin."I know some people want to keep this nameless and shit, but I don't give a fuck if I'm being honest."

You were trapped surely, but you hadn't promised anything to him yet and maybe you could save yourself if you just leave before making a mistake. "Well do you wanna have some fun?" Jason took you by the waist, pulling you closer to him.

"I wanna make you happy, be your whore and let you do whatever the fuck you want to me." He whimpered wantonly as he took your hands and dragged them down his torse.

"I can be your little slut and you can be mommy..." A shiver ran down your spine when you had finally the chance to look him. The demon was beautiful, there was no lie about it.

His eyes looked benevolent as they shined brightly thanks to the faint light of the moon and the candles; also the few strands of white and black hair that escaped from the veil gave him a boyish look, but his smile was wicked. It made you feel preyed on even when he showed himself so submissive in front of you.

"I-I need to go...".You barely managed to stammer, pushing him away in a shy demeanor.

you were afraid of losing control in front of someone as dangerous as him. But Jason didn’t gave up easily. "No, baby!" he complained with a pout." I promise I'll be a good boy, just for you!, but don't leave me here all alone..."

Trembling, you shook your head. It was hard to get your words out of your mouth in such situation like this, you were unsure that this demon was stable, maybe he would throw a tantrum if you turned him down, however, you were too scared to the core to think about his feelings.

"I shouldn't be here, okay?, goodbye."

Faith returned to your senses as you could walk a few steps freely, the door wasn't far away from you and you could see the bright streetlights now.

By tomorrow this would be only a story you could tell to your friends, maybe the media would want to talk to you about the horny demon who begged to get down and dirty and quickly you'd writing a book.

But you had to push harder and it didn't matter how hard you tried to run, the hallway always expanded until it looked infinite.

"You're not going anywhere." Jason said behind you, capturing your wrist and yanking you backwards.

He trapped you between his arms in an iron grip, forcing you to look up to him; his features were hardened, the charming and slutty guy who welcomed was long forgotten and the only thing you could do was pray for it to come back.

"You wanna be with me right?" Jason asked  in a wannabe sweet tonee that caused your stomach to twist.

It didn't matter how much you tried to fight the effect his eyes were luring you to give in." I want us to have a good time, can you do that for me princess?"

He caught your lips in a deadly kiss that you inly could return. Your mind was screaming, but you didn't care as long as your body felt good, and the way his hands roamed your body fire didn’t help either to keep your cool since it only build up a burning desire that the man who was holding could only extinguish it.

"I can do that." you assured with a ditzy smiley, finally losing any control over your actions.

You kneeled in front of Jason, your whole being foggy with the happiness of blowing him soon. So your hands graced softly the ropes on his stomach, tugging at the clips to the let go.

"C'mon, do it." Jason encouraged, running his gloved hands through your hair while  you pulled down the leather clothing, letting his cock free for your delight.

You liked the shaft tentatively, swirling your tongue on the tip before giving it a cheeky kiss. Without wasting any more time you took his cock in your mouth.

 You bobbed your head up and down softly tpo get adjusted to it, spittng saliva to make it more easier for you to go down.

It was encouragin the way Jason grabbed your hair, taking a fistful of it as he quick up the pace. “You take me cock so well, fuck...”

You wanted so bad to rub your throbbing pussy, it was becoming harder and harder to ignore. So clumsily, you decided to rub your legs, wishing the friction would ease the ache.

Jason chuckled lightly when he saw you." Do you want more?"He forced you to go deeper, grunting when you swirled your tongue on his dick." Do you want me to fuck that little cunt of yours?"

You locked him up with tears pricking your eyes, Jason was delighted to see you in such estate. He wondered how you would look with his cum covering your face.

He pushed you away, a string of saliva connected his cock to your mouth which broke the instant that the demon pushed you to the ground.

You pushed down your pants and panties inmedialty and pulled your legs apart.

Jason shook his head, "I want you to take everything off, sweetheart." He took the hem of shirt and pulled it up.

Taking advantage of the closeness, you took Jason's face in your hands and steal a kiss that quickly became a more heated one.

"I want you to fuck me." you said breathlessly as Jason went down to kiss your body, nibbling and licking a trail of sloppy kisses that went from your neck your breasts.

The air got caught in your throat when his fangs brushed against your hard nipple. "Fuck!" you gasped as he sucked at the tiny bud graciously while he rubbed your soaked core.

You moved your hips up unconsciously, you wanted to feel more than just a simple heat wave.

His movements were a dirty torture on your clit, it was not enough and the question of how his cock would feel inside you gnawed at you.

"Please Jason" you asked in a muffled groan, he just nodded without stopping masturbating you. "Fuck me."

"whatever you want, babe" He pecked your lips softly as he rubbed the tip of his cock in your cunt.

"No more teasing!" your cries were quickly interrupted as he pushed his dick into your throbbing cunt in a slow way.

You let yourself hang when Jason started to thrust, it was slow even gentle pace at first just making sure you got adjusted to his size. However, it didn't lasted much longer as Jason started to speed up.

You were moving back and forth roughly, luckily you had your legs wrapped on Jason's torso to keep balance because.

Jason was fucking your mind away, nothing more than his moans and your pleasure that was slowly pushing you to be at his mercy.

It didn't matter that this man was an underground creature as long as he keeps fucking you like this.

However, the faint eyes of the saints were seeing you straight in the eye, following any move you made like they were judging. They felt sorry for you, a poor sould doomed by it's ego and need to prove themselves to others.

They prayed for your sould to get saved from the claws of that monster.

The moment your blood poured slowly to the floor you locked gazes with the only virgin who lasted through all this time of root in this dammed church, she was smiling softly with her arms open.

The only pure light within the darkness.

"You look so pretty like this, being a cock whore suits you well..." He chuckled in a low tone, quickly followed by a few grunts." Do you wanna be my slut forever, sweetheart?"

You felt pathetic at how quickly you nodded. Yeah, maybe you were too deep in his control to think by yourself, your mind was fogged and the only straight thought you could make out was the way this demon was fucking you silly.

You needed more of this, you wanted to be his own toy regardless of how hard that might be.

Jason shook his head with a cynical smile, overjoyed by your enthusiasm.

It was nice to have someone to play with after a long time. You could be useful as a fleshlight whenever he gets bored, and if he gets tired of you then getting ride of that issue wouldn't be that hard anyway.

"You're so doomed, baby." he graced you cheeck whit his thumb and you leaned to the touch, glad to make happy your new master.

Tag list @bathroom-sand @aterriblelangblr @simpery @strangerthings14 @jyarumu0619 @kellieriddle96 @adarksoul098 @rosethegothamhistorynerd @duckmylife18 @panic-attheplace @malfoys-demigod @darkraven197 @magicisabluewish @hamdehlesmis @lucy-roo @lovelyartemisa @missmaskedwriter @c0-77 @ginevraxrogers @imagines-fluff-yandere-smut @shadygoateeprincess @nervousfandom @ghost-bitch @silverw19 @thegirlwholovesbooksblog @hecatemacbeth7 @unknowntoanyone @mistalli @screechingghostbananafarm @psych0crybaby @barnowl48 @waroncheer @lady-stirling @ghostly-ginger @greeknerd007 @caswinchester2000 @sara5208 @la-femme-lupita @jasonsballsack @violettessuniverse @wondergal21 @disnerd626 @pree-2003-blog @dreamxcollide @thirstiestpotato

[avengershumanresources]

blood 1 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, eventual smut (like, wayyy down the line), adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

Masterlist 

Chapter Playlist

1 - an empty grave

Cast:

The Royal House Stark:

King Obadiah Stark (Obadiah Stane)

King Anthony Stark (presumed dead)

Queen Virginia Stark (Pepper)

The Late Queen Alexandra Stark (your mother)

Princess Stark!Reader- you

Prince Peter Stark (Peter Parker)

Princess Morgan Stark

Knights:

Sir Samuel Wilson

Sir Steven Rogers

Sir Clinton Barton

Spellcasters/Master Sorcerers/Sorceresses:

Stephen Strange

Wanda Maximoff

Master Wong

Loyal to House Stark:

Natalia Romanoff (Natasha)- Assassin

James Barnes- her partner

Prince Thor- of Asgard, United with Stark’s kingdom

Prince Loki- of Asgard

Lady Brunhilde- of Asgard

Lady Sif- of Asgard

King T’Challa- of Wakanda

Princess Shuri- of Wakanda

(---) 

In a final twist of irony, the day of the funeral was bright and warm. 

You’d stood quietly while the priest recited his words, while candles were lit, while the Queen trembled silently next to you. You held Morgan’s hand, you listened while the choir sang, the ominous sound reverberating through your chest. 

The mourners in black whispered while the royal family walked up to an empty coffin. You touched the polished wood, fist tightening at your side. Pepper bowed her head, reciting a quiet prayer. 

How stupid. All of this was stupid. Praying to an empty box, crying over nothing. 

You kept your eyes down, lest you betray your own thoughts. Now wasn’t the time for rebellion. Not when your queen step-mother was relying so heavily on tradition and ritual to get through the day. It’d be borderline cruel to start antagonizing her in this way. 

No, you’d wait. 

Peter, your half-brother in blood but full brother in heart, touched your elbow, pulling you from your thoughts, and guiding you away from the coffin. He kept his eyes forward, expression stoic while he lead the family back to their positions in the massive cathedral. 

“They’ll pay for this,” he murmured low into your ear, as if reading your mind. The words were laced with a malice you’d never heard from the normally cheerful prince. 

You didn’t reply, instead you grabbed your younger brother’s hand and gave it a tight squeeze. A silent agreement. 

The attack had been a betrayal of one of the kingdom’s oldest allies, a neighboring kingdom ruled by someone your father had once trusted with his life. 

Apparently nothing was sacred anymore. 

The funeral ended somberly, mourners murmuring amongst each other, ladies fawning over Pepper, though the queen looked none too pleased with the attention. 

You searched the crowd for a pair of familiar of blue eyes, finding their owner tucked away from the crowd in a secluded corner. He was speaking quietly to the sorceress, Wanda, his eyes flicking up to meet your gaze. With a small nod, he signaled you over.

Weaving through the mass of people, you slipped into the conversation with Wanda regarding you, frowning in sympathy.

“I’m so sorry, your highness,” she whispered, bowing her head. “Your father was a good man, and an honest king. The realm is less for this loss.”

“Thank you,” your tone was colder than you’d intended, a reflection of the bitterness taking form within. Clearing your throat, you tried again, softer and more agreeable this time. “He truly was the best of us.”

Stephen sent Wanda a quick glance and the sorceress excused herself, parting the hall in a hurry.

“You’re angry,” he noted quietly. 

“Am I?” you hummed, quirking a brow up at your friend. “I thought I was supposed to be sad?”

“You’re allowed to be angry,” he replied, folding his hands behind his back. “It just means you understand the injustice of it all.”

“Peter wants revenge,” you stated, mimicking his motion and staring out at the sea of royals and court members. 

“Understandable,” he murmured. “I imagine a number of officials feel similarly.”

“He isn’t old enough to take the throne,” you supplied. “We can’t go to war without a seated leader.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time an heir succeeded in an unorthodox manner,” he noted before turning his head to look at you. “How are you, truly?”

You opened your mouth to reply, words catching in your throat. You felt hollow. You felt like you wanted to scream until you woke up from whatever nightmare you were caught in. Your heart felt like it had been ripped from your chest and stomped on. 

“I’m not certain,” you finally confessed, hands straining against each other behind your back. “Part of me wants to ride through the night and kill that traitor. The other wants to curl on the ground and fill the empty grave myself.”

He nodded in understanding.

“Grief is a powerful thing,” he replied softly, scanning the room before turning and giving you his full attention . “Would you like hide in the observatory a while?”

You looked up to him in surprise. The room was still full of mourners, citizens, and members of the court. Your duty would be to talk to everyone as they passed, pulling the burden off of Pepper.

“Can we?” you asked, voice cracking at the thought of having to converse any further.

Stephen gave you a mischievous smirk, nudging you toward a side door of the church. You followed his lead, slipping out of sight and tucking yourselves away from the crowds inside a small alcove. 

“They’ll want to focus on Peter and the queen anyway,” he noted casually, drawing up a portal with his fingers. “No point in dwelling. I’ll tell anyone who asks that you fainted from the stress and required immediate medical attention.”

“I’m sure they’ll all believe it,” you retorted with a matching grin, taking his hand and letting him help you through the portal with all of your heavy mourning apparel. 

The observatory had been a new addition to the palace after Stephen had arrived as its master sorcerer. Before, it’d been an abandoned archer’s tower, last used by the late king’s father, Howard, as a means of defense against the previously antagonistic kingdoms. 

After King Anthony had taken the throne and negotiated trade and peace treaties with the nearby kings, the reinforcements had largely been forgotten. 

Stephen had suggested it as an ideal place to study the cosmos above, and after some urging on your part, your father agreed to let the two of you repair the small space. When the foundation had been fixed to his specifications, Stephen added another enchantment to increase the size internally.

From there, the two of you worked to fill the space with objects of learning and interest. 

The walls had been lined with stacks of books, maps of the universe, and healing runes. Tables had been set with with all sorts of alchemical experiments, glowing amulets, and charmed quills. A small greenhouse had been established on one of the many turret balconies, where you helped tend to some medicinal herbs and enchanted florals. 

It was a place of peace and knowledge in a world of chaos and ignorance and in it, Stephen had taken the time to teach you the secrets of the universe. It was one of the few places you knew you truly could belong without judgement. 

“I’m not convinced this isn’t sabotage,” he stated once you were alone, the glowing orange portal snapping shut behind him. 

“What makes you say that?” you asked, lifting a book, flipping through a few pages in an attempt to distract yourself from his blunt words. You agreed there was some kind of malice involved in the attack, but sabotage suggested someone within the kingdom had betrayed your father. For such as honest and good your father was, your heart couldn’t handle such a reality.

“Whispers in the village,” he answered tersely. “Wanda was giving me her report when you approached. She is traveling to the next village over as we speak.”

“Rumlow betrayed his alliance,” you replied bitterly, refusing to look up from your book, though you couldn’t tell what the thing was about. Plants? Chaos magic? “What more is there to discover?”

“Why did he do it?” he asked. “What motivation does he have to sever one of the strongest military alliances in history?” 

“Greed? We’ve had a surprise in economic activity since the scholar agreement with Wakanda,” you guessed with a shrug. “This isn’t a smart man we’re dealing with. I’m met him once before. He’s ambitious and motivated, but not particularly clever.”

“Peter is almost of age, your father has prepared him for his new role thoroughly,” he continued, pacing the space. “It doesn’t make sense. Everyone is well aware he will be of age to take the throne in six months time, and now this just ensures his placement.”

“Not everything does,” you reminded him. “You taught me that. Or don’t you remember?”

You paused after a moment, peeking up from the book after letting his words settle.

“Maybe he plans to use Peter’s inexperience against him?” you suggested quietly. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but even with the training and learning, Peter was a different person than your father, perhaps not in morals but certainly in other areas like strategy and planning. 

“I intend to get to the bottom of this,” he stated, his hand tightening at his side. You’d never seen Stephen so inflamed before. “At the very least, I can try to retrieve his body. Negotiate a dignified exchange.”

The words pierced your heart far more painfully than you’d anticipated, your hand gave a jerk and you dropped the book you’d been fidgeting with while he spoke. 

The mental image of your fathers head on a pike outside of Rumlow’s keep was enough to make you nauseous. 

“I’m sorry,” Stephen’s tone shifted at your reaction. “I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“Don’t apologize,” you assured him, clearing your throat and composing yourself. “You’re just doing your job. It’s why he trusted you to the position. You’re asking the questions that need to be asked.”

He watched you pluck the book off the ground and toss it on a nearby table with a low sigh. This was a precarious position he found himself in. 

On the one hand, he’d been appointed as the Master Sorcerer of this castle and this realm. He had an obligation to serve that role and ensure the safety of the kingdom’s inhabitants. Not to mention, his obligation as a peacekeeper in his position as Sorcerer Supreme at Kamar-Taj.

On the other, you were his dearest friend and companion, and the obvious hurt you were suffering made his other duties nearly impossible to focus on. It was no wonder Kamar-Taj frowned on intimate attachments, they did provide a distraction from the ambivalent roles sorcerers and sorceresses were bound to play. 

He wanted to serve as an unbiased judge in this troubling time, but his heart wanted him to seek justice and bring peace to your troubled mind. 

His eyes drifted to the telescope at the edge of the room and an idea hit him.

Perhaps a distraction was best for the time being? A small respite to pull away from the doom and gloom of the immediate future.

“Do you remember that star cluster I showed you last week?” he asked, hooking and arm over your shoulder and guiding you toward the window. “There’s a fascinating change that’s been occurring.”

It was still relatively bright out, though with the sun was just starting to dip over the horizon, there was enough darkness to point out the phenomena he’d discovered the night before. 

“Let me adjust-,” he tinkered with the measurements before signaling for you to lean in. “Do you see it?” 

“They’re changing color,” you noted with a small gasp of excitement. “That’s a promising omen, isn’t it?” 

Your expression had brightened considerably when you looked up at him. 

“It is,” he nodded. “The specific colors suggest a period of tranquility and prosperity after a short struggle.”

“Then maybe it isn’t all terrible,” you tried voicing optimistically. It sounded strange, like you still weren’t entirely convinced, but the evidence was clear before you. 

Stephen knew the stars never lied and had taught you as much over the time you’d spent together. 

You sighed sadly, giving the stars another peek and shaking your head when you pulled away. 

“I miss him,” you murmured, looking up at Stephen miserably. 

The sorcerer frowned sympathetically, before he moved toward you and pulled you into a tight embrace.

You pressed your cheek against his chest and allowed his arms to wrap around you. 

“I know,” he replied softly, resting his chin on your head. “Just know he loved you very much, and wouldn’t want to see you so hurt on his behalf."

That seemed to break something in you, and you buried your forehead into his chest, shaking with suppressed sobs and held back tears until finally you choked out a wave of emotions all at once.

He spent an hour sitting with you while you cried into his tunic, yelling about how angry you were to how miserable all of this made you feel. He listened, offering a handkerchief and when you started to calm down, summoned a fresh pot of herbal tea.

“We will find answers,” he stated, blowing gently over the steaming cup in his hand. 

“You sound so sure,” you noted with a bitter chuckle, eyes swollen and red from your tears.

“I’ve tampered with seeing the future from time to time,” he replied cheekily. “Perhaps I’ve had a vision?”

“And what did that vision show you?” you pressed, playing along with a ghost of a smile behind your own cup. 

“We win,” Stephen replied firmly, his expression falling serious.

“Doesn’t feel like it,” you confessed quietly. 

“Victory seldom does,” he watched you take a sip of your tea. You closed your eyes and relaxed your shoulders with the calming scent.

You opened your mouth to ask him a question when a knock at the observatory door broke the small spell of peace that’d fallen over the space.

“I’ve got it,” he gestured for you to stay seated, moving toward the door and slowly peeling it open. 

It wasn’t that he was overtly concerned for your safety, but given recent events, Stephen didn’t want to be lax in covering all possibilities. The world had gone mad and he wouldn’t put an assassin with a dagger outside the realm of potential visitors.

“Is the princess here?” Loki, Prince of Asgard, asked with a tone laced with annoyance upon Stephen’s appearance. 

“Loki?” you must have heard his voice and stood, setting your cup aside. “Stephen, let him in. It’s okay.”

With a glare at the prince, Stephen stepped aside and allowed the emerald clad royal through. 

He didn’t like outsiders in the observatory. Especially when you were around. 

It made him especially uneasy inviting another magic user inside, where they could potentially measure its wards and security for later aggression. 

“Peter mentioned you might be here,” Loki glanced around the room, arms folded behind his back. “I apologize if I’m intruding.”

That last part was directed toward Stephen with the smallest smirk. 

“No, it’s okay, we were just having tea,” you replied quickly, gesturing to the steaming pot on the table. “Could I make you a cup-?”

“No-,” he cut her off and cleared his throat apologetically. “I’ve come to say farewell. My father is ordering the borders to Asgard closed until Rumlow’s nation offers an explanation to this… tragedy.”

“I see,” your expression fell at the news. 

Certainly Asgard closing its borders was a worrisome sign. They were the kingdom’s greatest allies and largest trading partners. The effects of such a move would be felt for quite some time, both in security and in the local economy. 

“I’ll write,” he promised with a curt bow. “Don’t fall behind in your studies. I’ll be testing you the next time we meet.”

You smiled before he took your hand for a brief kiss on the knuckles. Rolling your eyes, you pulled away and threw your arms around his shoulder in a hug. 

“What a sad parting,” you laughed at his bewildered reaction. “And you’re going to kiss my knuckles like we haven’t known one another for years? On the day of my father’s funeral? Unacceptable.”

He barked out a small laugh, reciprocating the embrace with an arm before pulling away. 

“Stay safe,” he urged her before looking up at Stephen with a steely gaze. “Do well to keep her protected, Sorcerer.” 

“Always,” Stephen answered tersely, a little offended at the prince’s casual disregard for his abilities. He’d always kept you safe, and had absolutely no intention of letting that guard slip now. 

“Travel safely,” you called after him and he gave a final wave before pausing in the doorway when Stephen moved to close the door.

“Keep her close,” Loki warned quietly, the smirk disappearing completely. “There are whispers in the village of treachery and assassination. Do not let anyone have the opportunity to take advantage of the situation.”

“My associates are building wards around the castle and her quarters as we speak,” Stephen replied in agreement, a quick glance in your direction to ensure you weren’t listening. 

“The tea was a nice touch,” Loki noted with a hum. Stephen nodded curtly. 

The tea had a protection enchantment included in the mixture of herbs. Something small, but effective if you found yourself in danger without him, Wong, or Wanda nearby.

“Be well,” Stephen closed the door once Loki was out of sight, turning and finding you digging through his trunk of cloaks at the back of the room. “What are you doing?”

“I want to see Natalia and James,” you answered, pulling out a large blue cloak and holding it to your shoulders. 

“Absolutely not,” he crossed his arms. “Your father was just killed, possibly murdered. You’re not going to the village unprotected.”

“That’s why you’re coming,” you threw a crimson cloak in his direction, fastening the blue one over your shoulders. 

“Did you miss the part where I said murdered?” he asked in disbelief. 

“Then it’s a good think I’m friends with assassins,” you chimed back, pulling the hood of the cloak over your head. “They might be able to tell us something.”

“I’m sure Wanda and Wong have already talked to them,” he shot back, folding the cloak over is arm. “You should stay at the castle, at least for tonight.”

“You already know I’m going to go regardless,” you replied. 

“Because you’re a headstrong idiot,” he sighed, reluctantly pulling the cloak over is shoulders. “Who clearly has a death wish. What if your family comes looking for you?”

“They won’t,” you answered with a confident grin. “Mother is going to be with Morgan and Peter is going to lock himself away in the armory or training fields until the knights give up and make him retire to his chambers.”

“You’re so confident in your knowledge of the castle,” Stephen snorted, tying the cloak around him. 

“It’s what happens when you’re the eldest daughter of a king,” you replied, patting him on the shoulder. “You see everyone, but no one sees you.” 

“Poetic.”

“Also, you owe me an ale for enchanting my tea,” you quirked a brow toward him when he stammered back a response. “Didn’t think I would notice?”

“I’m losing my touch,” he sighed, waving a hand and summoning a bag of coin.

“No, you’re just turning into a fussy mother hen,” you grinned, the smile looking far more relieving than the grief he know you wore on the inside. “It’s endearing.”

Wha danger was a short outing for the evening? It was arguably safer in a crowd than alone in her chambers, especially while Wong was still working on the wards.

Besides, the assassins you’d found friendship in would do well to keep threats away as well.

And while Stephen pondered this thought, you were already part-way out of the room and headed toward one of the hidden passages in the hall. 

(---)

2 - a night at the pub

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@ayamenimthiriel​ @drstrangely-strange @ladynothing​ @im-a-bi-disaster-help​

[ilikefandom]

Altering Reality

”Request: How about a fic where Voldemort wins and Y/N and Sev go back to fix things but she has to keep reminding him that its not the original timeline? Make it fluffy <3

Requested by: Anon

Synopsis: (Y/n) and Sev go back in time, but all they needed was a litte perspective.

Pairing: Severus Snape x Fem reader

Warnings: Small discription of blood

Voldemort had said it himself, Harry Potter was dead, he had won and they had lost. (Y/n) tugged Severus through the hallways of the castle. Their flight bringing them past the empty classrooms and exploded hallways. 

“We have to do something.” (Y/n) Snape said, facing her husband and clutching at his hands.

“What can we do?” Severus asked, taking his wife in his arms. “Unless we can go back and change something, the Potter boy will still die.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widened and she dug around in her pockets. When she had finished searching she lifted a gold chain out of her bag. Attached to it was a small device with a sand timer in the middle.

“How on earth did you get a time turner?” Severus looked at his partner with a wicked grin on his face.

“I received it from a dear friend at the Ministry. This is the only way that we can change things, we can go back and try again.” (Y/n) was basically bouncing on the balls of her feet as she looked at Severus. 

“Are you sure that this is a good idea?” Severus asked as (Y/n) pulled her time turner over the both of them.

“Yes.” (Y/n) answered as she began to twist the time turner back six hours. “If we are correct in our assumptions, what you have to do is give Harry Potter some sort of clue on how to open the snitch. Give him something that could be of use. And make sure you lure Voldemort away from the castle.”

The scenery blurred and meshed as the couple made their way back in time. Arriving just as Voldemort sent his first message to the death eaters. 

“Showtime.” (Y/n) smiled, pecking Severus on the cheek then dragging him down the hallway where they ran seconds ago, that is six hours in the future.

“Goodbye my love.” Severus said, pressing a kiss to (Y/n)’s forehead. 

(Y/n) darted down the stairs to the dungeons to find the compartment. She retrieved Severus’ anti-venom for Nagini, his book of spells and an amulet that she had made herself. This amulet had the power to tether a person’s soul to their body while the body healed itself. Quite like life support did in Muggle hospitals.

Severus, on the other hand, made his way to the boathouse, unaware of what he should do if he met the Dark Lord. He gripped the tethering amulet that (Y/n) had made and took a deep breath before crossing paths with his dark master and stalking alongside him to the place where he believed would be a place where he would die.

(Y/n)’s amulets were important and powerful. Being born with a half magic system in her body, (Y/n) could only use wand magic on certain occasions. Instead of being angry and bitter that their daughter had hardly any magic, (Y/n) had been sent to a special wizarding school in Egypt to become a sau, or a maker of magical charms. Her magic was infused into different pieces of stone, then carved into shapes and symbols to give her magic meaning.

(Y/n) moved seamlessly through the students catching a glimpse of the Golden Trio as they made their way to the boat house, seeing Severus joining Voldemort on the path, following the students down the path, (Y/n) ran her fingers over her teleportation amulet. How she wished that she could pull her husband to her, for this plan to work, she needed him to lure the Dark Lord into a false sense of victory.

Arriving just in time for Voldemort to order Nagini to attack (Y/n) watched as her husband lost blood from his neck, setting down the amulet, she pulled out the anti-venom and her enchanted artifacts.

As the trio fled the small house, clutching memories in hand (Y/n) drew a protective circle around herself and Sev’s barely alive body. Ignoring the blood and venom seeping from Severus’ neck (Y/n) said the activation spell and connected the amulet to Snape’s soul. She poured the anti-venom and healing potions alternately over Sev’s skin until the wound itself was mostly healed, a small cut that was not only survivable but very likely not to scar.

Releasing the amulet from Severus’ soul, he inhaled a deep breath. “(Y/n) my love?”

“I’m right here Severus.”

The couple stared into each other's eyes for a few seconds. Letting out shaky laughter (Y/n) pulled Severus to his feet. The couple wrapped themselves in each other’s embrace and swayed slightly as the morning breeze blew into the boathouse. 

Making their way back to the school, the Snapes fell from their elation into silence as they snuck back into the crowd waiting outside of the school. Voldemort once again said that Potter was dead and (Y/n)’s breath hitched, all of her muscles collapsing in on themselves. Until silence filled the courtyard.

Neville Longbottom had stepped forward, raising the Gryffindor sword and all chaos broke loose. Harry Potter stood up, grabbed his wand and ran toward Voldemort. All of the defenders of Hogwarts raised their wands and the death eaters charged the castle. 

Grabbing his wife, Severus disapperated to the top of the astronomy tower, as he held her gently, the sounds of explosions rocked the building. 

Screams from the front court yard made Severus let out a shocked whimpering sound. (Y/n) who had regained her bodily functions made her way up to the windows. Then she turned and tackled Snape with a hug. “He did it. Harry Potter has done it.”

Severus' fear trickled away and he held his love closer than before. “He sure did my dear one. Harry Potter is, once again, the boy who lived.”

Author’s note: It’s a bit shorter than usual, but I hope you like it. Please leave a comment and/or request a story. I love to hear your feedback and suggestions. 

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 04

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, sexual harassment (please don’t read this chapter if it triggers/makes you uncomfortable, your safety comes first)

A/N:  i do realise i’m on a roll posting every day but uni starts early and idk why i keep writing like i’m running out of time😂 hope you enjoy this chapter. much love xx

* additionally, there is a light sexual harassment scene in this chapter and if anyone is uncomfortable or triggered by it i would skip it. your mental health and safety come first. *

NEXT CHAPTER

One day I’ll fly away...

She remembered the very first role she got to play as a lead. She was the standby for Glinda in Wicked. She could still feel her hand shaking as the backstage technicians secured her to the bubble. She could still hear the bubble machine engine rumble as the bubble raised up in the ceiling and for a moment she was above everything - above the audience, above the cast, above the stage itself. It felt like flying, soaring through the gasping of the crowd. She remembered feeling like this was her height, this was her flight but as things went, as she got more roles and as she progressed to the screen as she always wanted, the feeling of flying just seemed to soar, turning her into a creature of air.

Flying for Bucky was something he couldn’t remember, he remembered crashing. Remembered falling from the train waiting for the peaceful slumber of death to come but it never did, remembered the cold snow melting through his jacket reaching his skin. It’s cold. Remembered diving in after Steve, lungs filled with water, heavy suit. It’s cold, it’s quiet. Soaring was only something he could dream of while frozen or when they put him on a cell with a small window. Crashing was more like something he could remember, drowning, pushed to the bottom by his arm, wishing death came to greet him

More powerful than crashing was sound. The theatre was always filled with whistling from men getting a peak at ladies’ legs, women giggling and security trying to keep out children and teens away. You could hear the laughter reverberating from any material, it was electrifying. Her voice however seemed to melt over distorted past sounds, a melancholy while held hands with the old telling it never of its former glory but of what it can be. Bucky knew now why her agency kept her so locked up, all people with a voice eventually fly away. 

     - Don’t just stare at me. - she bite her lip, looking the other way. Did she sound that bad? She thought she sounded just fine in the shower that morning, maybe her bathroom had better acoustics. - Should we go back home? Before it gets dark?

     - Sure. - he got up from his seat, extending his hand towards her so she could jump off the set. She put her hand in his, another hand coming to rest upon his shoulder as her elevated her up into the air before bringing her down onto the worn out floor. 

The walk back to the subway was quiet. People were starting to crowd Coney Island for night time dates. Bucky remembered bringing girls to dates in Coney Island, even remembered bringing Steve along, he just didn’t remember the girls’ names anymore. There were some flashes of what they were wearing but surely those memories were replaced with that of Y/N staring at the ferris wheel as they walked back to the subway.

Once there, her child like wonder of the city that never slept and the city which she now lived in didn’t seem to leave her eyes, sparkling brighter than the billboards in Times Square. The walk back to the apartment was once again quiet, with their footsteps being the only thing echoing in the halls. Soon enough they reached her door, still looking as intact as they left it.

     - Thank you so much for showing me Coney Island. - she handed him the teddy he had won. - Thank you gift. 

     - I won it for you, Y/N. Besides, I think I’m a bit past stuffed animals. 

     - Well, I’ve had my fair share of stuffed animals to last a life time and I insist you keep this one. - she stuffed the teddy between his arms, finding it incredibly adorable how the little toy looked smaller in the middle of his arms than in hers. - Little Coney Island memento. 

     - I should get going. - he changed the subject, gesturing with his hands as he looked at the time on his watch. - It’s been a great day, Y/N.

     - The pleasure’s been all mine, Bucky. - she smiled as she held the edge of the door. She stood by the slightly opened door watching as he turned the corner which led to the lift. Once he was out of sight, Y/N walked into her apartment, closing the door behind her but still holding the knob with a silly smile on her face. 

Bucky reached the headquarters around 11 PM. Despite going the long way home, expecting Steve to be asleep when he returned. Steve had a very mundane routine when it came to sleeping, he could still sleep but he would wait until everyone was asleep for him to go to his bedroom. Bucky didn’t want to have to dance the first day in the job waltz. He knew he cared, he knew Steve wanted him to be alright. There was only one small thing; Steve wanted Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, his Bucky, and he just wasn’t that man anymore. He didn’t like being asked who he was, he doesn’t know who he is.

Opening the door to the living room, he found Captain America himself sat on the big lounge chair, skimming through his list of modern day TV shows and movies. His blue eyes moved from the bright lights of the television to him.

      - How was the first day? - he questioned, regular optimism present in his voice. Steve had remained the same, maybe it was that which made him believe the spectre of the boy Bucky was could be revived. He seemed to forget dead people can’t be revived. 

      - It was good, went to Coney Island.

      - Coney Island? - Steve muted the TV, contorted face expression settling into his youthful features. - I thought you were going to guard her door.

      - She wanted to see Coney Island. Couldn’t let her go alone?

      - Didn’t her personal assistant tell you she couldn’t leave? - he had been noisey, he had looked into Bucky’s contract. He told himself it was just in case, just in case Bucky needed his help. - You don’t want to get in any trouble, specially with agencies. They’re the devil.

      - I’ll take it into consideration. - his skin tightened as he smiled a tight straight line. 

      - Do you wanna stay for a while? I’m watching a series Sam recommended. 

      - I think I’m gonna just go to sleep.

Steve nodded allowing Bucky to return to his bedroom. There wasn’t much in the bedroom, a bed, side table and wardrobe, nothing else. No mirrors and no windows, silence, grey and black bedding, no decoration rather than a postcard his sister had sent him during the war framed in a plastic frame. No glass, Steve wanted nothing around he could harm himself with. It was almost like living in an insane asylum. 

He looked at the little teddy bear in his hands before placing it on the side table, a little smile on his face. A Coney Island memento indeed. 

The morning came rushing like the rain which fell against Y/N’s bedroom glass window. She turned around in her bedding, pushing her knitted quilt up to her nose, the scent of fresh crisp cotton invading her senses. The mood would’ve remained the same comfortable, early morning type had it not been for her comforter being yanked off her without any warning. Through the fogginess of morning sight, she could make out Ms. Olson in her traditional black suit co-ord. She thought it fitting, considering her morning was now ruined.

     - Get up. We have much to do. - she barked like an infuriating dog.

     - But I thought I had the weekend off.- Y/N rubbed the sleep of her eyes, sitting up, quilt covering her body. 

     - You have last mine commitment. Now run along and change into something more ... - he analysed her before gazing her face, tight expression settling in. - Enchanting. 

She left Y/N in the bedroom, clenching her bedding as she looked around the place she’d rather be. Nevertheless, she rose from her bed and walked up to her wardrobe grabbing the first dress she could find and a pair of heels. Her routine during work was different, she normally showered, got her makeup done, dressed and then out of the door. Mechanic, controlled, with Ms. Olson asking her to hurry up. In a split second she returned to the living room, bag held on her shoulder, sunglasses in hand as she prepared to walk out with Miss Olson.

    - You should’ve put some product on your hair. The ends look dry. - Miss Olson commented as they walked outside. She looked around hoping Bucky would be around but it was just her and Miss Olson. 

    - Is Mr. Barnes not coming? 

    - It’s a dress rehearsal. - Y/N froze in her mind. Dress rehearsals were supposed to be better than fittings but after her last experience she really wasn’t in the mood for another experience with the director.

Time seemed to stop, freeze in spot as she stepped inside the car. No noise, no sound, even colour seemed to fade as the car drove faster and faster. She wondered what she could do, open the door, roll over, maybe do it like what she had seen in Lady Bird but the driver always kept the door fully locked and Miss Olson always had her eye on her like Sauron’s Eye.

She looked at her phone in her lap, fingers loomed over Bucky’s name. He was employed by her, maybe she could ask him to come over. Maybe if he was there it would be easier. She sent the message hopeful he would reply, but the text bounced back. Looking at the network, she was lacking all the bars on her phone. Sighing, she leaned against the car seat, looking off the window, dark clouds on the blue sky mocking her. 

As the car came to a halt on the same building as before, she almost had to be pulled out the car by Miss Olson. Once inside, Y/N could see him, she could smell his patchouli fragrance as he wrapped his arm around her. She stood once again in front of the camera lights, muffled cries in her head as she was squeezed into a corset and a then a body con dress. Her eyes were blinded by the lights, behind those lights Miss Olson and Mister Powell gazing at her. Her hand slide down her collarbones to her lap, feeling the fabric as the cameras kept flashing, locking her in a case of lights. 

Once the lights dimmed, she could see them looking down at her, almost five feet tall, mumbling she couldn’t hear as one of the costume designers helped her out.

     - Costumes are looking fantastic. - the director walked up to her, hand wrapping itself around her waist, raising up to lay just below her breast. - Maybe you should try and cut some weight. You would look a bit better.

     - We’ve already started a diet plan. - Miss Olson added. - Not to worry, Mr. Powell. Y/N is fully invested in this movie.

She remained caged in the conversation, being moved by someone back onto the car and dropped at home. She looked around her hallway, wondering if it had always been this cold. As she opened the door to her home, she noticed the jar of flowers the director had sent her on her kitchen balcony. White carnations in a crystal clear jar. She stormed to the kitchen, ripping the tag of the carnations. To my perfect leading lady. The handwriting wasn’t his, probably his assistant. 

When had it all gone so wrong? Why did it felt wrong? Why did the flight felt like a burning crash? When did it all get so screwed up? 

She wrapped her hands around the glass jar, hands trembling, the sound of her ring hitting against the glass being the only thing she heard before a shattering sound filled her mind. It was fast, too fast but she threw the jar against the wall, watching as the glass shattered into a thousand pieces, falling into the ground like small diamonds. She thought it would make her feel better but instead she feel to the ground, trying to gather the pieces together as guilt embraced her. 

    - Y/N?

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[slashingdisneypasta]

Slashers / Horror Villains as: Animated (Children’s) Movie Villain Songs

+ A Nightmare Before Christmas 

First of all, its mostly Disney. Second of all, I hope you know that this was a struggle for me. 

Also, note, Bubba will be the only Leatherface in this post and Billy and Stu will be the only Ghostfaces. There is Norma Bates though, so sort of a consolation. 

There are links to videos on YouTube ^^

~~~

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher / Ghostface: Playing With the Big Boy’s Now (Hotep and Huy, Prince of Egypt) 

Well... they’re part of the ‘big boys’, now! They are part of the Slashers group that, uh, ‘inspired them’. Imagine instead of Egyptian Gods, they’re chanting Slasher names. 

[HUY] Pick up your silly twig, boy [HOTEP & HUY] You're playing with the big boys now! Ha ha ha ha!

[EGYPTIAN PRIESTS] By the power of Ra Mut, Nut, Khnum, Ptah Sobek, Sekhmet, Sokar, Selket Anubis, Anukis Hemsut, Tefnut, Meshkent, Mafdet... 

Chop Top and Nubbins + Bubba Sawyer / Leatherface: Kidnap Mr Sandy Claws (Lock, Shock and Barrel, Nightmare Before Christmas) 

I mean... they aren't Drayton’s minions, but they are like this XD 

I say that we take a cannon, aim it at his door And then knock three times And when he answers Sandy Claws will be no more

Yes you're so stupid, think now If we blow him up to smithereens We may lose some pieces And then Jack will beat us black and green

Kidnap the Sandy Claws Tie him in a bag

Chucky / Charles Lee Ray: In The Dark Of The Night (Rasputin, Anastasia)

Mystical man? Check! ‘Betrayal’ (As far as he sees it)? Check. Made them pay? Check; I think Nica, Sarah and all the other families he destroys throughout the franchise can attest to that. And ‘One little girl got away’? Well Andy isn’t a girl, but yeah. Check. 

I was once the most mystical man in all Russia When the royals betrayed me they mad a mistake My curse made each of them pay But one little girl got away Little Anya, beware Rasputin's awake

Drayton Sawyer: Don’t Fall In Love (Forte, Beauty and the Beast: The Enchanted Christmas) 

Its such a crochety, unessessarily rude way of describing relationships to someone! I mean, I understand completely and resonate deeply with the desire to be alone and not be responsible for anyone else, but- come on! Beast doesn't share your view! Let it go! 

Its just like Drayton’s reaction to Bubba having a crush. Super cool video too! 

As soon as your heart rules your head Your life is not your own It's hell when someone's always there It's bliss to be alone

And love of any kind is bad A dog, a child, a cat They take up so much precious time Now, where's the sense in that?

Freddy Krueger: No More Mr Nice Guy (Rothbart, Swan Princess) 

A man with an uncomfortable relationship with the main female character pretending to be normal and not homicidal for a while before unlocking more power and letting there inner bad guy loose and taking great pleasure in it? Sounds familiar. They also have a similar vocabulary- except of course Rothbart is rated G. 

I'll become that nasty, naughty, dirty, spiteful Wicked, wayward, way-delightful Bad guy I was born to be

Lyin' loathesome, never-tender Indiscreet repeat offender No more Mr Nice Guy That's not me 

Inkubus: The World’s Greatest Criminal Mind (Professor Rattigan, The Greatest Mouse Detective)

‘Inkubus’ is literally a movie about him listing all his crimes over the centuries and messing with the police force because he has a bone to pick with a detective. Sounds pretty similar to me! Listen to the song! ^^

Now comes the real tour de force Tricky and wicked, of course! My earlier crimes were fine for their times But now that I'm at it again An even grimmer plot has been simmering In my great criminal brain! 

Jason Voorhees: Despicable Me (About Gru, Despicable Me) 

I... this is all I could think of!! But the more I listen to it and read the lyrics... it f i t s Jason so well! XD Please just let this slide; I know Gru isn't really a villain but he is at the start!! Let me have this. 

Why ask why? Better yet "Why not?" Why are you marking x on that spot? Why use a blow torch isn't that hot? Why use a chainsaw? Is that all you got? Why do you like seeing people in shock? But my question to you is "Why not?" Why go to the bank and stand in line Just use a freeze gun it saves me time. I'm havin' a bad, bad day It's about time that I get my way Steam rollin' whatever I see, Huh, despicable me I'm havin' a bad, bad day If you take it personal that's okay Watch, this is so fun to see Huh, despicable me

Jennifer Check: Trust In Me (Kaa, The Jungle Book) 

She’s a succubus demon. Tempting boys into a safe-feeling, docile state so she she can strike is her thing. 

Will cease to resist Just relax Be at rest Like a bird In a nest

Trust in me Just in me Shut your eyes And trust in me

Mayor Buckman and Granny Boone: Savages��(Governor Ratcliffe and the Colonizer’s parts, Pocahontas) 

Obviously, because of the (Inaccurate) historical relevance of both movies (Different time’s, same terrible prejudice,) and also because there is definitely a very cult-ish feel about both Governor Ratcliffe’s song and Buckman’s leadership. How easily they’re able to gather support from their people for the most horrible reasons. How horrifying it is to audiences and historians. 

They're only good when dead They're vermin, as I said And worse

They're savages! Savages!

Barely even human

Savages! Savages!

Drive them from our shore! They're not like you and me Which means they must be evil We must sound the drums of war!

Michael Myers: The Gospel Truth II (Muses about Hades, Hercules)

In a Disney movie, Michael would have others sing his song about him as he goes about his silent, determined walking XD 

If there's one God you don't want to get steamed up It's Hades 'Cause he had an evil plan He ran the underworld But thought the dead were dull and uncouth He was as mean as he was ruthless And that's the gospel truth He had a plan to shake things up And that's the gospel truth

Midnight Man: Oogie Boogie’s Song (Oogie Boogie, Nightmare Before Christmas)

A song about a “Gamblin’ Boogie Man” is perfect for the Midnight Man! He and Oogie could be pals. 

Woah! The sound of rollin' dice To me is music in the air 'Cause I'm a gamblin' Boogie Man Although I don't play fair It's much more fun, I must confess When lives are on the line Not mine, of course, but yours, old boy Now that'd be just fine

Norma Bates: Mother Knows Best Reprise (Mother Gothel, Tangled)

Norma is soooooo so so so unbelievably manipulative towards Norman (And Dylan. It just works better on Norman) and this song absolutely presents that. She can go from sweet, loving mother to spiteful, heinous bitch in two seconds if Norman or Dylan don't do what or react the way she wants them to. 

Likes you? Please, Rapunzel, that's demented

This is why you never should have left! Dear, this whole romance that you've invented, Just proves you're too naive to be here Why would he like you? Come on now, really! Look at you, you think that he's impressed? Don't be a dummy Come with mummy

Pamela Voorhees: My Lullaby (Zira, The Lion King 2)

In a opposite approach to a villainous mother to Norma, we have Pam, who was heartbroken by the camp councillors letting her son die and vowed to get revenge. She didn't know she was teaching Jason to be the Crystal Lake killer like Zira did, but she did, and the whole song does have her kind of feel to it also. 

Sleep, my little Kovu Let your dreams take wing One day when you're big and strong You will be a kingI've been exiled, persecuted Left alone with no defense When I think of what that brute did I get a little tense But I dream a dream so pretty That I don't feel so depressed 'Cause it soothes my inner kitty And it helps me get some rest

Patrick Bateman: Cruella De Vil (Arthur, 101 Dalmations) 

Never before was there a song that described audiences reaction to watching Patrick living in his daily life and hearing his thoughts better then this one. 

Cruella De Vil Cruella De Vil If she doesn't scare you No evil thing will To see her is to Take a sudden chill Cruella, Cruella De Vil

The curl of her lips The ice in her stare All innocent children Had better beware She's like a spider waiting For the kill Look out for Cruella De Vil

Pennywise (Both): You’re Only Second Rate (Jafar, Return of Jafar)

Mostly for the video and Jafar’s energy in this scene actually XD So many transformations, so many tasteless puns! I was going to give this to Freddy but its the closest thing to Penny I could think of. 

Go ahead and zap me with the big surprise Snap me in a trap, cut me down to size I'll make a great escape It's just a piece of cake You're only second rate You know your hocus-pocus isn't tough enough And your mumbo-jumbo doesn't measure up Let me pontificate upon your sorry state You're only second rate

Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt: Hellfire (Judge Claude Frollo, Hunchback of Notre Dame) 

A nasty filthy man who think’s he’s in the right despite being the biggest creep and monster ever? Mhm. 

*Note: I honestly didn't notice the deformed baby, Quasimodo/Thomas link until the day after I wrote this. Don't know how I feel about it. I mean, Hoyt is actually nice, in his way, to Thomas so the connection isn't totally there but onwards:

Beata Maria You know I am a righteous man Of my virtue I am justly proud

Beata Maria You know I'm so much purer than The common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd 

End of Post! 🌼

(Bonus’ under the cut) 

I did think of other connections which I obviously didnt landed on but still have merit! Here! 

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher: ‘Gaston’ was considered, but that would have just been a joke XD I don’t think Stu is quite as obsessed with Billy as LeFou is with Gaston. 

Chucky: Friends on the Other Side. Obviously! That link was actually what inspired me to make this post. In The Dark of Night fits to a T though. 

Freddy Krueger: You’re Only Second Rate! Ah, its perfectttt. But No More Mr Nice Guy fits better. If I ever do a Slashers as Disney Villains post, he’ll be Jafar for sure. Or Hades. Or Scar. Or Oogie. Probably Hades. You know what? Without the gore and blood and explicit sexual references, Freddy could be a Disney Villain himself. Its not like Disney hasn't towed the line before with perverted villains. >_> (Jafar and Frollo) 

Jason and Pamela Voorhees: Mother Knows Best! Of course. 

Jennifer Check: Love is For Peasants (Barbie Island Princess) Because Jennifer thinks like this: 

Men? <<< Literally anything else. 

Patrick Bateman: How Can I Refuse? (From Barbie Princess and the Pauper) XD If Patrick were a kids movie villain, he would totally join the ranks of corrupted usurpers pretending to be trustworthy royal advisory staff. Also ‘Let It Die’, that little interruption part of another song that O’Hare sings in the Lorax and ‘How Bad Can I be?’. 

[littlefreya]

Rip You Apart - Part 2

Summary: He demanded you to stay away from his basement, but you were curious by the howling sounds. Now he caught your scent and the beast inside him wants to claim what your body offers. 

Sequal to Part 1

Pairing: Werewolf!Henry Cavill x Reader

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: AU. Dark Fantasy, violent rough sex, MaleDom / FemSub, overstimulation, biting, manhandling, unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of bodily fluids. All the good stuff.

A/N: Okay, I woke up this morning and wrote the short drabble and did not intend to have such warm feedback from you guys. So a gift from me to you here is part two! Many thanks to the AMAZING @agniavateira who edits my work! 

Title: Rip You Apart

The deep blue gaze followed your hands as you reached to the cuffs around his thick wrist. Standing on the tips of your toes, you made an effort to reach the small iron pin that held the cuffs together. The screeching sound of grinding metal filled your ears as you managed to pull the small peg between your thumb and index finger. 

Henry’s arm fell heavily to the side of his body. You’ve meant to reach his other arm when he grasped your jaw tightly and held your face to his. He pulled you close, tilting your head up and letting his nose run up and down your neck to catch your alluring scent.  

A low soft groan left his lips while his hand brought your ear to his mouth. “You can still run, turn away and I won’t hurt you.” 

You whimpered, your breath shuddering through your chest. There was no physical or mental power that would make you want to turn and leave him behind. It was as if you were bewitched, your mind weakened by whatever was in the air. 

Perhaps it was those piercing blue eyes that had you under his spell?

The only will you had was to touch him. Trembling fingertips pressed onto hard abs, now lubricated with sweat that made his skin glow in the dim light. You slid further down and squeezed his pulsating manhood, whimpering once more as you felt his girth between your slender fingers. 

He wasn’t lying, he was about to rip you apart. 

Henry hummed with pleasure, his free hand tugged your hair, forcing your head further back as he ran his beard down your exposed throat. It was as if he meant to mark you with his scent, to frighten away any other wooing male who might come in your way.

“I don’t want to run,” you answered, enchanted. Your skin tingled and reddened under his ministration. Gently and carefully, you nudged him away and shifted to undo the other cuff while he stared at you with growing anticipation. 

You knew well enough he could have freed himself once the first cuff was off. It was your loyalty that he needed.

He coveted your full devotion and more than anything, he coveted you.

The remaining cuff fell to the ground, thundering through the room and through your trembling heart. You stepped away, watching as Henry stood free, arms pressed to each side of his body. His gaze pierced through you silently, penetrating into your soul. There you were, a young succulent female who wandered into the territory of a starved ferocious beast. 

Instinctively, you paced back with fear as he began to move. Your feet were nearly stumbling but you needed them no longer. 

In a flash, you were held against his body, toes dangling in the air as his hands grasped you onto him. His grip was so stark that you couldn’t help but yip, yet your cries were muffled into the mouth that devoured you. 

He kissed you with an aching craving, his tongue invading between your lips to domineer your very breath. You’ve never been kissed this way, as if you were claimed, any refusal you made is to be dismissed. 

Not as if you wished to refuse him. 

Henry’s hand made it clear that he has no intention of letting you go either. His hands found your behind and pressed you into his hardness, the slight friction enough to make him moan into the depth of your throat. The sensation of his girth against your abdomen made your panties soaked and the vicious smirk that formed within his kiss did nothing but alert you that his need for you was dire and unrelenting. 

Within seconds, you were shoved to the ground with the large, burly man climbing on top of you. His fingers wrapped around the fabric of your clothes and ripped them shreds. Your shirt, your jeans, and your undergarments were now nothing but a pile of rubbish laid on the ground. 

Alarmed, your hands came to cover your chest, your legs crossing to shy away from his hungry glare. But the enormous god-like creature would have none of that, his hands forced yours away, pinning your wrists to the floor while his knee kicked your thighs apart. 

“I warned you,” he spoke darkly before lowering his head to the throbbing tendon in your neck. Warm wetness flicked over your throat as his tongue descended down your skin. You shivered and hissed at the way his saliva chilled in the cold air once he moved away.

Following the course of your body with his mouth, he savoured on every inch of you with vast enticement. To him, you were a delicacy to be consumed, and damn if he didn’t want to have it all.

“I always wondered what you taste like,” he murmured against your breast, the tip of his tongue circling around your nipple. A deep moan departed from your lips, your voice aquiver, your body arching on the floor, taking whatever he offered as a great whore. You brought yourself to grind at his knee, leaving a trail of wetness against his trousers. 

“Please, Henry.” You urged, trying to induce more friction. The chains weren’t lifted from him, they were passed onto you.  Now you were bound to his sinful will, resistance was futile. 

“Take me!” 

If only you’ve known that those words brought his promise to light.

Sharp fangs sank into the plumpness of your breast, his teeth broke into your tender skin.. You yelped out in pain only to be comforted with pleasure as he licked at the blood that dripped from the bite.  

“You smell so good,” he murmured against your chest as his hands finally left your aching wrists. Within seconds, every inch of your body was left bruised. Deprived, he left his seal across your body, scratching, suckling, nipping, and kissing at every pure piece of flesh. Even the sacred space between your legs wasn’t spared. You gasped, left reddened and swollen as he abused you with his wicked mouth and tasted your elixir with every suckle of his lips.

“You taste even better,” he murmured, his breath vaping hot against your cunt.

You bit on your knuckles, pushing yourself into his face to urge him to fuck you with his mouth. 

But you’ve gravely erred. It wasn’t the time to please you, it was time to wreck you.

Kneeling between your legs and unbuckling his belt, he exposed his endowed cock to your smitten eyes. You whimpered as you drank in the sight of his perfect manhood, adorned with ridges and veins that ran through its generous width. Your body shivered as you realized he was about to enter you, and make you take him all the way inside with no bargain.  

With every means to keep the promise he made, he gripped your thighs, nails digging into your muscles. He pulled you toward him until your ass rested on his thighs, positioned for easy penetration.

His beautiful blue eyes focused on your terrified gaze, his hands further spreading your thighs apart. 

 “After this, you will be mine forever, do you understand?” 

It wasn’t a question meant to be answered.

You both cried out as he entered you with a violent slam. Your wail was deep and full of pain against his melodic shout of overwhelming pleasure as his cock sank fully into your lush depth. He was too large, splitting you in half. Your walls struggled to shove him away as if to banish this sinful invasion into your body but he would have none of it. Smirking, he pulled away only to shove into you again, even harder. There was no parley nor did he mean to spare you, you were meant to stretch and accommodate him.

He knew he was hurting you yet there was no power to stop the beast that took control of the reins. Loud grunts chanted through his mouth, and his brow furrowed with concentration as he held you hard and fucked you like an animal.

Tears sprang from your eyes, he made you sear with each thrust yet something inside you wanted this, needed him to use you, to unload his pain into your willing wound. You pushed to meet his thrusts, squirming upward, grinding yourself against his body. Soon pain mixed with pleasure and your cunt became devoted to his claim.

Henry’s brow softened at your acceptance, thrilled as you took everything given to you. He watched with awe as you whimpered for him with ecstasy, tugging on your own hair as waves of pleasure licked at the spot where your bodies united. 

His hand reached out to cup your jaw forcing you to look straight into his eyes as he pounded you. Jostling on the floor you quickly grabbed his hand, forcing his thumb into your mouth. You moaned and sucked hard while his cock bottomed out inside you causing warmth to gather within your loins. You were close, never feeling so full and whole in your entire life.

Yet Henry gave a glare that was a mixture of awe and fury. It was wrong of you to provoke the beast but you couldn’t help it, you heeded the calling of something archaic.  

“You’ll take what’s given to you.” He blurted and placed his hand on your neck, choking you as he began to pound into you at a violent pace. It was all that was needed for you to lose yourself in his carnal union. You screamed in ecstasy, feeling yourself falling apart around his cock. 

Henry looked at you with fury, eyes blazing at your sight of bliss. With a grunt, you were flipped on your knees and entered from behind. You were still clenched from your last orgasm yet he ignored the protest of your walls and took your hair in his fist, fucking you with inhuman stamina.

 All you could do was succumb to his need and moan as he punished you with impossible speed.

“Is this what you wanted?” Henry rasped in your ear. “Is this what you expected you’ll receive?”

“Yes!” you screamed, feeling yourself clench again. The room filled with the squelching sound of your wet skins slapping against one another with great haste. Adding to the symphony of his animalistic growls which overpowered your succumbing cries.

Once again pleasure was taken against your will. Your cunt milked at his cock woth desperation, begging him to join you in this dark paradise, to give your body what it needed. You were on the brink of collapsing, muscles violently trembling beneath him as he took you in vigour, yet once again you were flipped, taken to a new position before you even managed to catch your breath. 

Down on your back, hands pinned at each side of your head, Henry drove between your legs, his blue eyes met yours, ravenous and feral. He gasped against your lips, drops of sweat trickling down his face and falling onto yours.

Beyond sore, your body couldn’t take him anymore. With tears in your eyes, you begged.

It was all that the beast needed. 

With a great roar, he swelled and twitched inside you and you felt the hot rush of his load sprouting into your accepting womb. Gasping, he collapsed onto your chest and you immediately embraced his trembling, exhausted body and quietly ran your hands onto his back. 

“Mine,” he groaned against your bruised skin.

“Yours,” you answered as he remained buried inside you, making sure his seed dwells there for as long as it needed to be.

_______________________________________________________

[herstarburststories]

Make Me Yours

Day 4 of Kinktober: Body Ownership

Day 4 of Suptober: Branded

Pairing: Michael!Dean x reader

Summary: Michael wants you to be his.

A/N: I swear I'm not that pornography on daily basis I'm even more, but branding is very kinky here. I also strongly support you listening to False God while reading. @itsangelpie @deanmonandnegansbitch, this is the Michael one I was talking about xD

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, p in v, bit of power play, marking, brief fingering, grace

CATCH UP KINKTOBER & SUPTOBER

Michael enjoyed leaving a trace behind like any other powerful celestial.

Once, the loyal son convinced himself that it was because he wanted, not only humans, but his siblings, father, and any other being to know that he could be a savior like he was built to be. No matter what, he was a righteous warrior who would do anything his beloved father wanted him to. He was a perfect soldier, earning nothing but pride and all the head pats possible. 

At least, that was before. It was back when Michael thought that God truly loved him and that he had a bigger purpose than gaining adoration from his fragile humans to overthrow Lucifer — his little brother, the archangel that was thrown away like a rough draft. Now, Michael couldn't care less about living up to his goody two shoes reputation. He didn't care about his brothers and sisters either, much less the humans. The archangel wouldn't say that he hated them like Lucifer foolishly did. His brother was wrapped in a bubble of jealousy that was almost embarrassing. No, breakable things didn't deserve attention. Michael just didn't care about them or their little world. All of his heaven-made goals had melted into one thing to look forward to — getting Chuck back to kill him.

So what if he had to burn a couple of dimensions and their human inhabitants? That was just an unfortunate side effect of Chuck’s little creations being the only thing that could catch his attention.

Burn a book? Get the author’s fury.

Michael was more than satisfied with the idea of leaving a trace of calamitous fire behind. It was such a beautiful legacy that would put fear into the atmosphere of the universe, and Michael would be God. He would be better one — the evolved version of what he’d always been as an archangel.

The torn holes of vulnerability inside of him had only grown wider, gaping into an open wound when his father left him as though Michael were as useless as a broken toy. That wicked, selfish side said it was because he wanted everyone to know how terrible he can be — fear him so no one will ever be close enough to hurt him again. 

Terror had worked better than adoration for millenniums. 

The archangel is good with that. Unlike his father, Michael's ego is as big as the amount of blood in his hands, not the people on their knees or the number of démodé cathedrals to worship him in the name of a bible that he never wrote. He doesn't need humanity’s adoration.

You bit your bottom lip to contain a smile, glancing at him. Michael could read from your mind and erratic heartbeat that you were both excited and curious about what was going to happen. Yet, he didn't need to. He knew your body — that perfect body — very well by himself with no help of his powers.

Correction: he needs one human's worship.

As mentioned beforehand, powerful beings like to leave a trace behind for multiple reasons: marking their territory like a big dog, making a point to gain respect through terror, or boosting their self-confidence. 

“Get on all fours, little one.”

For the first time, Michael wanted to make someone a living reminder of him. He wanted to mark a human for being his: you.

You were obedient, quickly moving to the position that he had asked. You can hear Michael humming in satisfaction, moving in such a quiet way that you almost feel surprised when he placed his hand on your back.

Michael watched your body with care, his fingers dancing with tenderness on your skin. He used to believe that a vessel was everything a human body was worth. Sex was a foreign concept, nothing but an earthling’s attempt not to feel alone — if they weren't fighting, they were fucking. It got boring after the first few centuries.

And then, you happened.

“So marvelous, little one.” His words were laced with gruffness, startling a whimper out of you. “All of this…” He held your waist and pulled you back swiftly. You gasped, feeling his hardness against your ass. Michael didn't slide in, but he kept rubbing himself on you. “All of you…” One of his hands slid down your body, making way for his fingers to catch your sweet spot. You were so warm and wet: there was nothing on Heaven, Earth, or Hell as splendid your needy cunt. “Who do you belong to, Y/N?”

“To you, Michael. I belong to you. Please.” You should be ashamed of begging so early, but how could you judge yourself? Michael's hard cock behind you, making your ass dirty with precum along with two fingers inside your pussy and his possessive words stewing inside your head — you were still just a human, after all. “I need you.”

It was blissful, to have someone he was enchanted by to worship him as the Sabaeans did to the stars.

“Patience is a virtue, little one.” The archangel wore a proud smirk, adding another finger into your wet mess. You groaned in response, pressing your hips to his pelvis in an obvious attempt for more.

Michael's cock welcomed the growing arousal, dropping more precum than before and twitching. It was difficult not to give himself any relief, but he had to teach you a lesson before taking you again. Religion came with strict rules.

He pulled away from you, grabbing your neck from behind only to push your head on the bed. Your cheek to the mattress made it was painfully easy for reality to sink in: the archangel’s fingers on your bare skin, his fingers that were inside you. There was something uniquely blasphemous about sinning like this.

“You take what I give you, and you're grateful for that. Understood?” He howled, tightening his hold on you. “I picked you.”

“Yes, master.” The two words fought to leave your mouth before ultimately escaping. You know you should be afraid, but your soul refuses to welcome any feeling other than excitement. Michael didn't even use his grace yet. He wouldn't hurt you: at least, not enough for you to suffer. Everything he did to your body was a blessing.

“Good.” He exhaled, letting go of your neck. The archangel had been way too patient, and you waited long enough. You dared turn your head to look at him, and Michael was divine. His gorgeous body was crouched with his knees on the bed while he patiently observed you. His length was large and rock hard against your leg. You just wanted to give him release. “Like what you see?”

You gulped, nodding furiously. The archangel chortled before he slid his cock inside you without any other warning.

You let out a shamefully loud scream. What else could you do? His cock was fucking its way inside you, cleansing your body with the prayer of being everything you could ever need or want: to feel holy, to feel full. Michael grunted, grabbing your hips to pull you closer, and you moved back and forth in sync with him. Soon, the bed was the one clamoring with noise. Both of you became hollow when you were like this — hungry, craving for something to fill up your empty pieces.

Michael was the right hand of God, the protector — whatever treasures he chose to deify would be eternal because he could make it happen. And for Heaven, he adored you.

His cock found your G-spot, and his grace flooded into your veins as if it was meant to be there. Your walls were tighter and tighter around him, and you couldn't wait to feel his load inside you, marking you from inside. There was a wash of glowing pleasure in your body. You had never felt so light before. This felt like the precipice of your glorified religion, and God, you could make a church out of this.

“That's it, my love.” Michael moaned, his eyes bright blue as he fucked himself into you. You bit the pillow to keep another scream down. He squeezed your waist. There was something burning in your bones with a painful pleasure as his hand glowed. He was branding you as his, writing his symbol all over your soul, bones, and heart. And you were enjoying every single ache of it. “Cum for me. I want to hear you coming for me.”

He may be a false god, but he certainly brought you to heaven.

Your lips parted into a moan as your juice came all over his pulsating cock, and Michael came inside you in a rush. Everything hurt as if he had rearranged your bones, but it was as comfortable as if they were all snapped back together in the right places. You fell on the bed out of exhaustion, wondering if you'd live to see another day. All of you seemed to be on fire, much more than the other times. Your pussy was pulsing, and you could smell him all over your skin. He had made your body his. You were his.

Michael pulled away from you, a lopsided grin on his lips as he glanced at his possession. The archangel laid down, pulling your tired body to him. You clung to Michael while trying to breathe properly. What had just happened?

“Wh — What was that?”

“I marked you, little one.” Michael gave you a devilish grin while his eyes shone a dazzling blue. He was the apocalypse of your soul, and you couldn't wait for the sweet destruction. “Now, everyone will know that you are mine. Your pussy, all your body, and your soul. You belong to me, Y/N.” He had everything now. The world and you. He was ethereal. “I'm your god now.”

You made an altar out of him, and you'd always be a loyalist to this love, no matter the sacrifices you'd have to do for this. 

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