#muse: hunter j

[divintiies]

hyeseong could easily kill doyun if he wanted to.

at that moment, every instinct from his training is screaming at him to end doyun's life right then and there. instead, he’s trying to be patient enough for doyun to come to him. "if you wanted to bite me you would have tried before now and we wouldn't be having this conversation. come here." he grabs doyun's arm and gently brings him closer, pointedly making sure it was close to his lap. "need to figure something out, so hurry the hell up."  doyun relaxes a little when hyeseong has a point and allows himself to be pulled closer until he's practically in his lap. "mm, guess you have a point," he says and puts his palms flat on hyeseong's thighs, still hesitant, but willing. and then he asks, "figure what out?" 

hyeseong doesn't answer him verbally, instead pulling doyun even closer until he really was on hyeseong's lap, hands placing on doyun's waist with a firm grip. he looks into his eyes for a moment and studies them, wages a war inside himself between his hunter roots and the person who hyeseong had over time grown to become by being with doyun. he then sighs and lets his hands slip from doyun's hips and gently along the lower half of his back, forehead resting gently on doyun's chest and goes, "figuring out if i can ignore the fucking voice in my head that tells me i should kill you." a few beats before he softly goes, "apparently i'm good at tuning dumb shit out. it's a learned trait." it's pointed, a jab at doyun but it has no malice behind it. instead he digs his nails down the lower part of doyun's spine and asks, "are you finally done worrying about stupid shit? you should have been sitting on my dick ten minutes ago."

doyun's studying hyeseong studying him but doesn't fight being pulled into his lap further even though everything in him is screaming to put distance between them. but he doesn't move when hyeseong's hands move from his waist to his back, or when he presses his forehead to doyun's chest, or when he speaks. he arches his back when hyeseong's nails dig into his back and lets out a soft breath as his eyes slip shut. "you should kill me," he says softly, though he's not sure if hyeseong even would. and as he nudges him to lean back, doyun straddles his waist a little more surely. "but if you're not going to, i can definitely ride you instead." hyeseong hums, leaning back when prompted, props himself on his elbows and runs his hands along doyun's legs. he wouldn't kill doyun, even though he knows he should. the voice was loud but not as loud as his heartbeat as doyun sat upon him, looking every bit ethereal and having hyeseong want to curse that fate would be so cruel to them both. his expression barely changes but his eyes darken further with lust, gently squeezing the meat of doyun's thighs and goes, "be a waste to kill you now with the offer of you sitting on my lap like a good little slut is on the table. get to work. owe me for making me wait so damn long."

his skin feels both cold and warm where hyeseong runs his hands on his thighs. doyun's heart is beating quickly, but he doesn't know if its because he's scared of him or excited by him (probably a little of both). and he offers a hum in response at first as he rolls his hips, a little to tease and a little to test, before he sits up just enough to reach behind to wrap his hand around hyeseong to line him up. "mhm," he says, lowering his hips down slowly, "guess you can always save that 'til after you come down my throat, huh?" and as he sits all the way down so hyeseong bottoms out, doyun lets out a sultry, "holy shit," and plants his hands firmly on hyeseong's chest to keep himself grounded.

"you'd love that, wouldn't you? drooling and gaging on my cock like it's the last thing you'll ever do. would probably die happy, wouldn't you?" hyeseong takes doyun's ass in his hands and gives a harsh squeeze, nails digging into the flesh and mumbles, "get to it. want to see you fall apart on my cock and i'm getting tired of waiting." doyun wanted him so bad it was almost painful. despite that, he's careful as he starts his rhythm, rolling his hips around leisurely. because fuck if he doesn't feel so full, and fuck if it doesn't feel so good, and fuck if he didn't want this more than he could breathe in that moment. and hyeseong let’s himself just feel doyun for a few moments, biting his lip at each roll of the hips, each time he easily took him, as if he was made for it. sometimes hyeseong feels like doyun was crafted just for him, made to be with him, upon him like that; letting himself finally fall flat onto his back on the mattress, slightly shifting their positions so doyun hovered more over him.

hyeseong slides his hands up to take a hold of doyun's hips again, plants his feet on the mattress and barely warns doyun with a simple, "hold on," before he thrusts up the moment doyun comes back down towards him. hyeseong sets a brutal pace from the start, giving deep, powerful strokes as he does so. doyun barely had enough time to lean forward and grip the sheets on either side of hyeseong's head before he thrusted hard. the only thing he can offer in response then is, "fuck, fuck, fuck, yes, right there," in a way that bordered on screaming. all thoughts of how they shouldn't be doing this are fucked into the back of his mind while his head falls between his shoulders and his body feels like it's on fire everywhere his skin meets hyeseong's.

and hyeseong would never get tired of this, of being connected with doyun in such a way. even if he shouldn't want doyun as badly as he does, he aches too much with it to give him up. to act like he doesn't crave him. "look at you," he taunts, one hand slipping off doyun's hip to reach up and push bangs from the vampire's face, hands gentle, a contrast to how aggressively he was snaping his hips upwards. "already screaming like a whore, making sure everyone can hear how good i'm fucking you." he grips a doyun's hair to maneuver it up enough so that hyeseong was looking him in the eyes, makes sure doyun can see his desire for him even though his words are a taunt. "fuck, already falling apart and i barely did anything. pathetic."

it's almost overwhelming, the way that hyeseong is all around him, invading every heightened sense that doyun possesses. the only thing he can feel, the only thing he hear. it's all hyeseong. hyeseong, hyeseong, hyeseong. and he doesn't know if the mantra is only in his head or it's coming out of his mouth, too, but he can't be bothered to care, not when his hands are gentle while his hips are anything but. not when when he grips doyun's hair to pull him back so he can see, not when doyun's so captivated by the heat in hyeseong's gaze that he can't help but let his own eyes flutter shut. hyeseong lets go of doyun's hair in favor of trailing his hand downward, along his throat, lingering there but not applying pressure yet. he wanted to hear doyun beg some more before he made it so he couldn't make any sound, at all. doyun can feel the wetness on his face (sweat, tears, or spit, he doesn't know) as he processes the silent demand. and doyun's all too willing to oblige. "please," he says, but it comes out as half a groan as he opens his dazed eyes to look at hyeseong below him again. "please, fuck, please."

hyeseong wants to engrave how doyun looks above him in his memory, wants to play it again on repeat later when he's alone and thinking of him. doyun looks beautiful on top of him, moaning his name over and over again, saying it like a prayer. his thumb is gentle as it rubs along the side of doyun's throat, and once those desperate pleas hit his ears he lets himself smirk, a dangerous, cocky thing. "good boy," he all but purrs before he finally wraps his fingers around doyun's throat and applied the pressure he knew the other was craving right at the same time doyun's hips slammed back down onto him. he counts down in his head before ever so slightly loosening his grip on doyun's throat, allowing him to breathe for a moment. doyun’s breath comes back to him all at once only for it to be expelled again in a rushed and loud, "fuck, fuck, fuck," as hyeseong thrusts again and again, his movements stilling after the second one. 

"such a pretty, fucked out look you have on your face. ah, just love getting used like my little fuck toy, don't you? don't worry. i'll fill you up just like i know you like. sloppy slut." and doyun's incoherent, can only offer a whine as he rolls his hips chasing the friction he wants, no, needs. he's desperate now waiting for hyeseong to continue, he was so close and now he can feel it slipping away slowly as a hand tightens on his throat again. "'m your.. your slut."  hyeseong groans softly as he feels the pulse of doyun around him, eyes fluttering shut for a moment at the sensation. "i want you to come untouched on my cock, understand?" he then eases doyun up almost all the way off him before thrusting again, picking up the brutal pace he originally had, this time with his only goal in mind to have doyun fully come apart on him. 

and when hyeseong finally gives doyun what he needs, when he finally fucks into him with the sole purpose of ruining him, doyun can only let out a strangled moan as he moves his hands to leverage himself on hyeseong's chest. he needs to feel his skin under him, needs to ground himself as he can feel it coming now, quicker than before, that warmth starting low in his belly spreading through him until it feels like he's playing with fire.  "close," is all he can get out around hyeseong's hand on his throat, and doyun digs his nails into his chest as he feels his body draw taut, a wire ready to snap. "close," he repeats in the same choked moan. 

and then it hits.

all at once his thighs tighten around hyeseong's chest as he paints them both in streaks of white and his eyes all but roll into the back of his head. hyeseong moans at the feel of doyun tightening around him as he does; barely feels the sting of the marks, instead letting doyun ride out his high before going to chase his own. hyeseong lets go of doyun's throat finally and fucks into him with abandon, no longer caring how sloppy his movements are, only chasing his own high as he thrusts deeply inside doyun. when he feels like the string is drawn too taut, feels like he's about to fully fall over the edge he grabs doyun by the back of his neck and brings their mouths together in a searing kiss. it's uncoordinated and sloppy, him licking into doyun’s mouth just to get a taste of him, before he's groaning low in his throat as he feels each pulse of his release as it fills up doyun. 

doyun can feel it. the way hyeseong's hips stutter as he finally reaches his own climax and stills inside him. the only thing he can really do at that point is collapse down on hyeseong's chest, his own heaving as he searches for his grip on reality. once hyeseong feels like there's nothing left to give he finally lets go, gently massaging the spot his hand gripped in a silent apology before falling lax. he closes his eyes for a moment to catch his breath, free hand running along doyun's back to massage in soothing circles, a stark contrast to just how aggressive they were only a moment prior. he leaned in to give him another kiss, this time a bit more gentle, tinged with something sweet. a soft kiss. it’s the juxtaposition doyun needs as he comes down.

but then hyeseong felt the trickle that ran down doyun’s thigh and almost groaned out loud, realizing why. quietly in almost a murmur, he tells doyun, "on your back, baby.” he wanted to see it, wanted to run his fingers along the mess he made. 

and when doyun’s like this, he wonders how anyone could think that what they have is wrong. then hyeseong was laying him back and sliding down his body—

they definitely weren’t finished yet.

[rosegarden-society]

Nabbed a jacket the other day that is 100% Hunter’s style

Hunter fit check when-

[ultradespairboyz]

Two kinds of reactions to men with booba

(The gal in the second is Ryuu's sister, Alina 😭😭)

[general-kalani]

You can't kill me I'm an NPC. You forgot how this works. Here. Maybe I'll be nice to you next time, okay? Point that gun away from me.

- Markus

"No I remember very fucking clearly that you're an npc. When I shoot you though, it's for my own self-satisfaction. I swear to whatever god is in the universe, if you give me one more piece of shit Defiler, Thanatos or Raven I am going to fire do you understand me?!"

"OH FINALLY. Why a hornet though, Atlas cutting you off old friend?"

[artyandink]

lipstick, baby

Summary: Dean liked to indulge as a demon. On food, pie, women. To him, it’d just be him seducing every single girl that came by with a wink and a flash of his pretty smile, then they’d practically be spreading their legs for him. Then there’s you. There was something about you, that had him coming to you instead of you to him. He wasn’t really complaining.

TW: Drinking, Demon!Dean objectifying women but also being hot at the same time, badass reader, smut, mention of Sam, Crowley being a wingman, reader has a bone to pick with Heaven, reader’s a former hunter

STW: Riding, thigh slapping, ass slapping, tit slapping, whiskey play, temperature play if you squint, really filthy stuff, dirty talk, unprotected sex (do not try at home unless you are married and want kids), switch!Dean, switch!reader, marking (except Dean’s is marking with lipstick), uhh- mentioned dacryphilia?, degradation on both sides (use of slut, pussyslut), face sitting, fingering, slight exhibitionism?, praise kink if you squint, oral sex (m + f receiving)

Song Inspo: Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande

Whiskey every day really was the fine life, Dean mused as he finished his fifth glass of whiskey in the fifth bar he’d hit in three months.

Sam, of course, had been on the lookout for his location, but he never stayed in the same place for very long, which made him harder to find. It was fun, of course. Sex with women night after night, hearing them scream for him as he broke Crowley’s bed with no regrets. Anything to satisfy his high sex drive. Then he’d move onto a new one, and see them struggle to walk the next day. They’d shoot him a sultry, almost inviting look for him to fuck their legs out (they didn’t have much brains, so legs were the next best option), but he didn’t care. It was always a one use for him, not much more than that.

The bartender, a sweet piece of eye candy with long brunette hair, creamy mocha skin and a smile that told him all he wanted him to do to her, passed him a new glass with three fingers of whiskey, her fingers brushing his with promise of her getting on her knees and using her fingers and mouth on his cock.

Too bad, cause she did that a few days ago on her break, right before he blew her legs out.

The clearing of Crowley’s throat snapped him out of his inner monologue, having Dean glancing towards him on his right side. “Courtesy of the lady across the bar.” The former drawled, nodding across the bar counter.

Dean rolled his eyes, scoffing lightly and looking across the counter- god-holy-damn.

Your hair, your eyes, your lips. Those pretty things stretched into a smirk that could only be sultry as you nursed a whiskey, your scarlet lipstick leaving a print on the rim like the one he had on his napkin. It instantly sent thoughts of those prints on his chest and abs through his mind. Over his anti-possession tattoo. On his cock.

Dean wordlessly stood up, making his way slowly over to you. He took notice of everything. The corset bra underneath the red plaid that was left open. Ripped jeans that clearly had garters visible and the beginnings of sexy nylons visible.

Oh, he approved. He definitely approved.

“And who might you be, sweet thing?” Dean asked, voice low and panty-dropping and rough. He leaned his side against the counter, his eyes taking their sweet time in analysing every dip and curve of your body and imagining his hands on them. His own body burning as if your hands were already on him. Damn, that ring on your middle finger would feel so good.

“Said it on the napkin.” You replied, and then he nodded, checking it again. Ah, now he saw.

Dean offered you a smirk that was enough to make any other lady’s legs open wide, but yours didn’t. You just offered one back. “Pretty name.”

“Will I ever know yours, or will you remain the handsome, mysterious stranger who comes here every night?” Paired with a chuckle and a slow sip of whiskey right over the previous red print you’d left on the rim. Damn, you were good. Just the sound of your voice was enough to have him twitching in his jeans.

“Dean Winchester.” He drawled, his tongue tracing his teeth, hoping to sink them into your skin and mark you. A bit of a detriment to the enticing visual was the obvious mark of being a hunter. Dean could tell one of his former own. There was a silver knife in your boot. “And you’re a hunter, sweetheart. Here to kill me?”

The question had a scoff coming from your mouth. “Hunter? Baby, no, you got me all wrong. I’m not a hunter, especially after the dicks who call themselves angels have been makin’ good America into a clusterfuck. I doubt I’m gonna be happy with ‘em. This knife ain’t for you.”

The statement had a grin spreading on Dean’s face. You hated heaven, he liked that. You spoke your mind, he liked that. Your words rolled off your tongue, he liked that. He liked you. “Got a bone to pick with heaven, darlin’?”

“Less a bone, more an eyeball, but call it what you want.” You shot back with a sip of whiskey. Yeah, you were really good.

Dean’s hand found your hip, gripping it, his thumb pressing into your skin. “Can I call you what I want, baby girl?”

“You’re already doin’ that, Dean, I doubt there’s much more ground to cover where that’s concerned.”

“Damn straight.” He grinned, getting closer and closer. He felt your hand on his bicep, gripping firmly. Your hand on his shoulder, creeping up to thread your fingers in his hair. It all felt so… dizzying. “Tell me, what’s a fine piece like you doing in a bar like this?”

“Just passing through, seeing the sights.” Oh, dear Lord, now he could feel your breath on his. Dean was used to having control as a demon. “And now… I got another one on my list.” This time, it was like there was a rope and you were holding the other end of control instead of him holding both ends. Cause right now, all he could think about was how your thigh pressed in between his legs, grinding firmly against the bulge made by his rapidly-hardening cock.

The friction had a low groan rolling off his tongue, but it was sealed from the others in the room by your sweet, dizzying lips, your hand on his bicep sliding to his upper back and pressing him closer. By base, pure instinct, his hand on your hip pulled you closer, movements slow, calculating as you both shared your whiskey palette with every searing kiss.

Dean could take in your scent from the proximity. Earthy spices. Sharp perfume. The distinct musk of whiskey. All enough to make a normal man’s head spin. Made him want to add the sweet taste of your pussy to the menu.

And all at once, all too quickly, your lips left his, but burned a trail from his jaw to tease his earlobe with your teeth. “How about we ditch the party and go somewhere more comfy?” You murmured, your nails raking over the fabric of his shirt, over his chest. “Place is kinda dead anyway, and you seem like all kinds’a fun.”

“Mm.” He hummed in agreement, fumbling with his wallet and slapping a random amount of bills on the counter. “I’ve got a place.” Humming again, he grabbed a handful of your ass, rolling it before slapping it firmly. “Let’s go, darlin’. Now.”

“Fuck.” You stumbled back through the door to Crowley’s room, Dean’s lips attached to yours like you were his last dying breath. The room itself was a grand one, with a queen size, pieces of lux furniture and two beside tables, one of which having a bottle of whiskey on it.

One of his hands was tangled in your hair while the other was, like before, groping your ass, harsh breaths coming in bursts against your mouth. His scent of whiskey, beer and old leather mixed with yours, a cocktail of dizziness and heat and pure sex.

Dean was too preoccupied with the way your scarlet lips fell, smearing onto his own and then his skin, as you’d abandoned his lips to start laying your claim on his neck. And he wasn’t sure when his flannel and undershirt made it to the floor, but it did, and now he was bare chested and sporting red lipstick marks all over his chest, and the numbers were climbing.

He groaned, his hand tangling in your hair, reminded of his old self (however much he didn’t want to be, but now he wasn’t really complaining), his love then of being dominated by a woman and damn, was he enjoying it now.

Perhaps because it was you who was dominating in this moment.

Doesn’t mean he wasn’t going to revert back to his preferences.

Dean tugged your hair, baring your neck to him and allowing him to attach his lips to your neck, unclipping that godforsaken corset bra with a hum, finding your bare tits. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.” He murmured, reaching a hand up to roughly grope one of them, his mouth descending to one nipple and letting his mouth envelop it, sucking harshly and flicking his tongue over it, his index finger and thumb toying with the other in tandem with his tongue, pulling or pinching with each suck.

“Shit-” Your hand flew to his hair, arching into his touch with a low moan and a couple more expletives. The feeling was electrifying— cause damn, did this man know what he was doing. He switched his attentions, swirling his tongue around your other nipple before sucking over and over and over, wanting to draw as many sounds from you as possible-

Wait, why was he sucking on air suddenly?

Dean looked down to see you on your knees, undoing his belt buckle with a surprising amount of efficiency and popping the button on his jeans, pulling down the fly. They pooled my his feet, and he kicked them and his boxers off- holy shit.

You’d taken Dean’s cock into your mouth, the whole expanse, swirling your tongue like he did on your nipple and taking the whole length of him, right until he hit the back of your throat, relaxing your throat to avoid your gag reflex from kicking up.

Dean’s fingers twisted in your hair, a strangled groan leaving his mouth as his hips bucked into your mouth. “So good, baby girl.” He choked out, gritting his teeth. “So good with those pretty lips around my cock- son of a bitch.” As expected, the lipstick not transferred to his mouth and chest was now on his skin, and he didn’t mind one bit.

You pulled almost all the way off to suckle at his tip, a motion that had him jerking once and then twice once you took him back into your mouth with hollowed out cheeks.

“Keep that pussy wet for me, darlin’.” Dean grunted, his head tipping back. “Keep it as wet as that beautiful mouth.” And you obliged, your hand moving to undo your jeans’ fastenings, slip past rub and toy with your clit, your pussy already damp from his ministrations on you.

Your hand gripped his thigh, and with a few well-timed swirls of your mouth and assistance from your hand, he was spilling into your mouth with a drawn out moan of your name. It was like white hot sparks went through his system, but he recovered quickly, pulling you off his cock once you’d swallowed every last damn drop.

With a well-practiced move, he hoisted you to your feet and threw you over his shoulder, striding across the small distance between your previous position and the bed with a firm smack to your ass, throwing you down onto the bed. He licked his lips at the sight of you like that, practically collapsing down on top of you to press a searing kiss on a freckle that resided just above your belly button, yanking down your jeans in the progress as he then went on a mission to mark up the majority of your torso with his teeth.

Once he was done, he took a moment to admire the sexy constellation before stealing a kiss from you. Dean’s eyes landed on your garters and the skimpy little nylons you were sporting under the jeans, as well as the now ruined black lace panties that matched the corset bra he’d unclipped earlier. A grown bubbled up in his throat, followed by a gravelly chuckle.

“You really know how to get the attention of a guy like me, huh, sweet thing?” He murmured, sweeping a hand over his mouth and biting his lip, taking a moment to really appreciate the visual.

“I take more pride in what comes after.” You gave him a sexy smirk that had his cock throbbing. “It’s one thing to get attention, but I take more pride in keeping it.”

That got him nodding. “You sure can keep it, baby.” He worked off the garters and nylons, chucking them aside and hooking a finger into the hem of your panties. “Attached?”

“Do I look like I’m sewn to them?” A wink from you. Damn, he was hooked. Line and sinker.

“Touché.” He flicked his wrist, which tore the panties until they were beyond repair, dropping them somewhere else. His eyes locked on your soaked pussy, and fuck-shit-crap was it the most pretty thing he’d ever seen.

Within seconds, Dean had your legs over his shoulders, slapping your thighs and kneading them, using the grip on them to spread you open and run his tongue up your dripping cunt. The moment he got his taste, of the sweet, sweet ambrosia, something switched and he really began to work.

He felt your fingers thread in his hair again, your palm pressing him closer to you, and was he complaining? No. He could make a damn home right here. Right here, at your pretty fuckin’ pussy.

He’d fuck that pussy raw.

“F-Fuck, Dean!” You gasped, your thighs closing around his head, but he didn’t mind, lapping at you before licking up to your clit so he could suck at it. His fingers joined the party, slipping one in, then add one with no resistance whatsoever, with had him groaning against you and sending vibrations through your body that felt rather like electricity. Blinding electricity.

“That’s right, pretty thing.” He growled against your cunt, crooking his fingers before sucking on your clit again. “Show me how goddamn needy you are.”

You found yourself barrelling to the edge quicker than any other man had ever possible managed, and damn, did it feel good. Too good.

“Gonna-” You had to cut yourself off to gasp and let your eyes roll back when Dean curled his fingers and hit your g-spot, “gonna come-”

“Come for me, baby.” Dean encouraged, slapping your thigh firmly, kneading the flesh. To get you there, he traced his name out on your clit before sucking, which had you coming on his fingers and tongue, maximum voltage sparking your veins and hanging stars in front of your rolled eyes.

You felt Dean’s tongue lapping up everything you had to offer, all your come and he didn’t waste a drop. He sucked your arousal off his two fingers, licking his glistening lips and collecting the copious residue off his chin with his thumb, sucking that into his mouth with a look that could only be described as pure porn.

The sight of him - mussed up hair, naked, lips smeared with red, the same to his neck, chest and cock - was pure porn.

“More.” Was the only thing he said (growled, more like), and he flipped you over, practically manhandling you until you were kneeling on the bed. Straddling his face.

His hands took your hips and yanked you down, and he instantly licked a long stripe up your pussy, your hand flying to grip the headboard as you ground down onto his face, obscene sounds leaving your mouth but you didn’t care, really. All you cared about was the god of a man making you fall apart in record goddamn time with just his mouth.

Dean grabbed handfuls of your ass, slapping the softness and groaning into your cunt. This was honestly where his element was. Not hunting, not demonhood, no. He belonged with his tongue on your pussy.

His hands reached up to grope your tits, kitten-licking at your clit while his fingers tweaked your nipples, adding a dual level of stimulation that made you rock your hips faster.

Dean’s left hand reached down, swiping two fingers through your soaked pussy and lifted those to your mouth, and he chuckled. “Suck, sweet thing.” You took those fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself and feeling those two fingers that had previously worked magic on you in your mouth. The calloused pads pressing on your tongue. “That’s it. Such a slut for my mouth, huh?”

“Could call you a pussyslut then, hm, Dean?” You panted amid moans, running a hand through your sweaty hair. “Can’t get enough of it, can you?”

“Well played.” He growled, working faster, determined to get you over the edge. A few more licks, a couple more strokes and Dean did just that, his name rolling deliciously off your tongue as you came on his tongue for the second time. He drank all that up too, like a parched man in the Sahara.

Dean was normal used to sensitive, pliable women at this stage, but no, you shifted back and shoved him down when he was about to get up, making him fall back with a soft grunt, his head pressing into the pillows.

His hands gripped your hip and thigh by instinct, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin when you lifted yourself, sinking down onto his cock and taking all of him in one.

All of you was an expert at this.

“Fuck.” Both of you moaned in unison, his hands tightening on your hips while your nails raked down his chest, leaving red trails that instantly cleared up.

You couldn’t help but whimper, your hand gripping the your hair as you adjusted to how goddamn big he was. Out of all cocks you’d taken in your life, Dean fuckin’ Winchester took the cake. “So good.” You muttered absentmindedly, already feeling your pussy clenching and him buried all the way inside you, reaching places you didn’t know you had.

“Shit, sweet thing, you’re so tight.” Dean groaned out, and his hand left your hip to grab the bottle of whiskey, popping off the stopper with his thumb and chuckling. When he saw you not moving, he slapped your tit, hard, but somehow extremely sexy. “Move. Now.”

Now, had that been anyone else, you’d have tied their wrists to the headboard and edged them until they cried. But with Dean Winchester, well, you could risk relinquishing control for a second, or five.

You began moving- up and down, up and down at a dizzying pace, one that had your thoughts clouding as the side of his cock brushed against your g-spot. “Oh, fuck, baby.” You moaned, your mouth falling open. What was it with this man?

Dean took a sip of whiskey from the bottle, swallowing it and grunting roughly. “That’s it, pretty thing. Ride my cock. Bounce on it, attagirl. That’s a good girl.” You let out a whine in response, and an even louder one tumbling from your parted lips when you felt the cold sting of strong whiskey drip down from your chin, to your neck, over your tits and further down, poured by Dean from the bottle of whiskey that was then returned to its place on the bedside table.

He leaned forward, lapping up the whiskey from where he could reach, guiding your movements while his tongue flattened against your skin and licked stripes over your neck, your nipples, the swell of your tits and the valley between them.

“Y’look so good on me.” Dean growled, using his now purchase on your hips to bring you harder down onto his cock, watching it disappear into your pussy with gritted teeth. One hand left your hip, thumb finding your clit and once again tracing his name before moving into fast yet calculated, perfect circles, his lips adding to it by sucking more and more marks onto the skin of your neck and chest. Making sure you couldn’t cover them, not easily, at least.

“Y’look so good under me.” You shot back after a series of moans and whimpers and loud expletives, and he laughed deep and rough, hand finding the back of your head and bringing your lips against his, parting them, letting his teeth graze and tug at your bottom lip. His hand smoothed over the curve of your ass, gripping it for the nth time that night. Then, before he knew it, your pussy had clamped down on him like a vice, and you were over the edge, coming with a rolling of your eyes back into your head.

Dean gripped your chin, bringing you to look at him with hazy eyes as his name was ripped from your lungs, crying out and rendering you breathless as he then worked you down from the high, chasing his own by thrusting up into you.

Works two ways. You get to come down and he gets to come. Fair deal.

And the deal was fulfilled on both ends, cause while you had come down from your high with a delicious ache and/or satisfaction in your pussy, courtesy of Dean, he’d also got to come, spilling into you.

Thank God you took Plan B, even though it’s not 100 percent effective.

You lifted yourself off of him, rolling onto your back beside him as you both caught your breath. You’d sort of had an out of body experience, being treated to three intensely mind-blowing orgasms. And you’d always been the one to dominate. Not today, since a demon unexpectedly called Dean Winchester had proven you wrong with his gravelly voice and rough nature.

Damn, if you were a hunter, you’d be missing out on this religious experience.

“I’m assuming you’re the type to do a lady then go.” You breathed, running a hand through your sweaty hair while both of you adjusted the blankets on you at the exact same time.

“I don’t think that applies this time, princess.” Dean smirked, looking you over with an impressed undertone and an obvious blazing heat in his gaze. “Nah, definitely not this time. I’m keepin’ you, for a very long time.” He chuckled, biting his lip. “If you’ll allow me to keep you, darlin’.”

“Keep me, maybe not.” You winked, but then grinned. “But I’m definitely stayin’. Can’t just do you once and then leave it right there, can I?”

“Damn straight.” He chuckled, then rolled onto his side, cupping your cheek and thumbing your bottom lip. “Cause I’m still wonderin’ what else you can do with that pretty mouth of yours.”

©️ 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐤 / 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝

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[alexhatessupermarketcola]

My Alex Rider related playlists

ft. some highlight songs from each to somewhat demonstrate the vibe that totally weren't very hard to pick lol

Alex Rider | Scorpia

My only one carefully curated in order - follows the plot of Scorpia loosely from the perspective of Alex - book and show inspired. Angsty and melodramatic

Ft. Death of an Optimist by grandson, Nothing and Everything by Red, The Kill by Thirty Seconds To Mars

Devil: Yassen and Alex

Inspired by The Devil and The Deep Blue Sea by pongnosis. Alex and Yassen centric. Pretty angsty too ft. some badassery

Ft. Exit Music (For A Film) by Radiohead, Dance With The Devil by Breaking Benjamin, Kill or Be Killed by Muse

never too young to die | Alex Rider

My general Alex Rider playlist based around Alex - ft. badass, angst, fun, some show songs and just anything that I think fits tbh

Ft. All These Things I've Done by The Killers, Alive or Only Burning by Blind Channel, Young And Menace by Fall Out Boy

Yasha

My Yassen playlist - focused a lot on his past and arc. Angst and such things with a bit of badassery

Ft. What Happened To You by Black Honey, And The World Was Gone by Snow Ghosts, Love and a Smoking Gun by Des Rocs

Yassen | Two Sides of the Same Coin | Alex

Brand new, as in picking highlight songs for this made me cave 😆 Songs that fit both Yassen and Alex and their canon arcs. There's angst, of course.

Ft. Used To The Darkness by Des Rocs, Beautiful Crime by Tamer

Y+J

My Yassen and John playlist. Anything that I feel fits their unusual dynamic. From Yassen's perspective generally. Yay more angst 😆

Ft. Skeleton Key by Flower Face, Affection by Amber Run, Panic Attack by Halsey (show special for baby!Yassen lol)

Tom and Alex

My tomlex playlist. Equal parts fluff and angst. The playlists are getting shorter now.

Ft. OK by Black Honey, If You Wanna by The Vaccines, Cut the Cord by Black Honey

John Rider, Hunter

Possibly joint shortest. I started this because of two songs I heard. May grow one day.

Ft. Bambi by Tokyo Police Club, Portrait I by The Howl & The Hum

Kyralex

Fluff and angst. Songs that fit them. I never used to ship but after s3 they grew on me, evidenced by this playlist 🥺

Ft. Red Brake Lights by SAINT PHNX, Ride by Amber Run

Kyra Vaschenko-Chao

Possibly the shortest. Need to spend some time on this one because there's a lot I could probably add. Started with two Marina songs that were contenders for a Kyra fanvid I did back in 2020. It's pretty s1 rn.

Ft. Rootless by MARINA, What You Want by Evanescence

laukyra

A relic from 2020 - a Kyra and Laura ship playlist. I wrote a oneshot about them too. This one's actually long but niche so it got demoted down here. Probably best summarised as gay songs and Kyra angst - note to self: add Good Luck Babe 😆

Ft. Darling by Skott, Angela by Flower Face

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0VYfa4E2DF35MRCfsSGshJ?si=BXrsX7F6QzKFtoKgFQjLQQ&pi=3xbJChkiSh-wE

(ran out of proper links because I accidentally made an 11th playlist whilst making this list oops) (so hopefully that laukyra one can be copy pasted lol)

Okay, phew, the end. Please rec any good AR playlists you know/made!!

[incorrectwwfquotes]

i won't say i'm in love ~ hunter hearst helmsley & shawn michaels (& co.)

first full amv i did actually. took wayyyyy too long

this one probably needs a bit explaining especially if you haven't seen hercules. basically he's singing with his 'muses' who in the case are x-pac (red lyrics), razor (purple lyrics), chyna (grey lyrics) and diesel (white lyrics). i hope that makes sense? it was smarter in my head when making it idk

anyway the ending is me forcing them to kiss like barbie dolls /j

[spenglersglasses]

⌛⚙️ Take me to Valhalla! ⚙️⌛

Lol j/k

Hello everyone, I am back again with the next chapter of my Immortan Joe x the Fray (Corrine) fic!!!

This one is a bit shorter than my usual chapters, but I didn't feel like I could fit all the next bit without making things way to long so here we go!

I am really excited to get this too you and as with all my fics I will update as I am able and inspired to make sure I am giving you my all every time.

**This fic will be an AU! Mostly I will try to stay canon but there will be some conflicts and reimaginings. This includes themes as listed in the tags, if any of this doesn't sit well with you, please skip this one!**

TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️Discussion about RAPE/FORCED PREGNANCY/VIOLENCE/VARIOUS DISTRUBING SUBJECTS⚠️

Listen you are reading a fic with Immortan Joe, it should be pretty obvious. but that being said if you are still here, I sincerely hope you all enjoy!

*Special shoutout to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more for the awesome dividers!

Glimmer in the Wasteland

Many years after the Citadel was conquered and seized by him, the Immortan Joe longs to feel something besides the pain and anguish of the world. Desperate to secure his legacy by siring an heir, he decides that now is the time before it becomes too late. Meanwhile a young woman named Corrine is separated from her group in the Wasteland and captured by the War Boys. When Corrine awakens within the fortress of the Citadel, her world changes when she has an encounter with the deeply feared and infamous warlord.

Chapter 2: Gilded Cage

Corrine is in shock when she finds out the man who has come to see her is the infamous Immortan Joe, but what will shock her even more is what her tell her is to be her fate.

Also available HERE on AO3. Haven't started yet? Read from the beginning  HERE! 

Will eventually be very NSFW below the cut!!

The air she’d held within her lungs, had left her. Standing still and unable to draw in a new breath. Corrine stared, speechless, into the eyes of her captor. The man responsible for her incarceration. 

Was it really ‘the Immortan’ who had come to see her personally? Was this man, the tyrant of the Wasteland? One who now bore witness to a single tear as it ran down her cheek. IF so then her ill fate truly was sealed. 

No matter how hard or how resolute she had grown from a life spent in unforgiving waste, she has never held more helpless or in danger than in his presence. While life before had been dreadful, at least it was free. Corrine, left now to curse herself for having been foolish enough to be caught. To have allowed the bittersweetness of freedom to slip away. 

The silence between them had felt like hours, though she knew only seconds had passed. Corrine tried to gather herself, if only enough to respond. To appear more courageous than she felt within her true resolve. Crumbling inside, like a dried husk in the sands. 

“The—the Immortan.” she uttered, swallowing back her urge to cry. And with her response, there was a hint of amusement that filled in Joe's eyes. A look that all but assured a smile was worn beneath that mask. Corrine wincing as she felt the grip of his hand tightening around hers. The blood pulsing through her veins, palpable in his vice grip. Her heart, beating harder and harder between them as she knew she could not pull away.  

“So you’ve heard of me?” he mused, taking a seat back on the chair. His adornments, rattling like chains as he relaxed into it. His calm, calculating demeanor—well kept. It was clear to Corrine that she was not seen as a threat. Watching him as prey watches the hunter. 

Joe drew in as deep a breath as he could muster, staring directly at his treasure. Visibly ogling her—Corrine, fidgeting in her discomfort. Joe was already infatuated, filled with desire for his wayward goddess that, as if by fate, had been brought to the Citadel. The Immortan’s mind, filled with salacious thoughts.

He pictured the two of them together. His fingers entangled in her beautiful hair as he thrusted into her. The Fray bent over the balcony, facing out onto the Citadel, as he filled her with his seed. The whole of the Wretched watching them—his virility was on full display. 

There was more. From the moment he saw her it was as if he knew. She was more than anything he’d come across before. Superior to any of those who had previously held her title. Wondering to himself if she would stand by him and the Citadel, together. Hoping that the Fray might save him a life filled with nothing but pain. 

“Yes.” she told him. There wasn’t a man, woman, or child that lived in the wasteland who didn’t know his name. The ruler of the coveted Citadel, bastion of prosperity to some, and leader of the fearful and zealous War Boys. He, of all, was the one person Corrine never wanted to encounter—and now he was a hair's width away. 

The realization stirred her inside. Corrine, doing her best to avert her eyes from looking at him. Her view, now woefully framed, on their hands. Her’s, still held by his. Corrine’s heart began racing, pumping hard with fear from behind the confines of her chest. 

She was stunned. The feelings and instincts inside her, that should be telling her to run, were absent from her mind. Desperately, she tried to shake off whatever unspeakable thoughts had begun to take root. Stuffing them down until she could only feel the anxiety and fear. Her gut, churning as she worried what was to become of her. 

There had been rumors, and all amounted to nothing good. The Citadel’s captives were either put to work, becoming slaves to its leaders or something far worse. The common thought being that women captives were surely assaulted by the high-ranking members. Made to become receptacles for their bodily fluids or, if lucky relegated to a life the likes of a dairy cow. 

The last thing Corrine could recall was the tale of Joe’s wives. A group of women, who were described as beautiful and in good health. All of which were said to be hand-picked by the Immortan to be his breeders. None of them though, having ever managed to give him a viable son. 

“Whatever you think you know about me, Fray, forget it.” Joe told her as she slowly tried to pull away her hand. 

“I can’t…you…really expect me to just…” Corrine hissed, finally freeing herself from his grip and stumbling backward into the water. Drenching the bottom of her dress as Joe stood back up and followed her in. Slowly inching towards her, Corrine doing her best to maintain the distance.

“What is it you think I intend to do with you?” He asked, gripping tight to her shoulders. 

“Nothing I want.” she hissed once again, their eyes meeting as he held her close. That same wretched pumping of her heart starting once more. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, noticing the flush of red as it filled her cheeks. Eyes dilating with the increased rate of her breathing. 

“You know nothing of me…” she began noticing a cocked eyebrow. “...and your arrogance is written all over you like the history men. No one longs to be a slave or…glorified cattle…or worse one of your command's whores!” she yelled, the backs of her calves hitting against the wall of the pool. 

“Ah…Is that what you think?” Joe asked, brows raised even more with the accusations. Having been, however, more than satisfied to know that his reputation and the rumors were still held up. Keeping those who might try to rise up and take all he had away from him at bay. “I could know you. Know everything about you…but it seems…that despite your snarling you are frightened of me? Don’t be. You will not become a slave or a Milk Mother or blood bag… none of those things will come to you. I would never give you over to them.”

“Oh?” Corrine began, confused by his answer. “...How can I trust you…you look as if I blink wrong or insult your position that I will be sent to slaughter. What’s to become of me in this horrid place?” she growled. Breathing heavily, eyes blown wide like a wounded animal. Teeth gnashing and ready to bite if need be to protect herself from harm.

“Heh…” Joe said, humming to himself. Seeming to be thinking before doing something that neither one of them could have expected. As Corrine’s breathing began to settle, Joe dropped the grip of his right hand from off her shoulder. His fingers brought along the back side of his mask, unclasping it. Allowing it to open—revealing his full face to her.

Corrine’s mouth suddenly fell open, staring at the man hidden behind it. His face was both strong and regal. Jawline, sharp and a large, but distinguished nose in the center of his face. And full, soft looking lips surrounding his menacing grin. Before Corrine realized it, she let out a gasp.

“I—I…You…” she stuttered, lips quivering with the words. 

“Am I that frightening now?” Joe asked, continuing to smile, bringing himself close to the side of Corrine’s face. Ready to whisper something in her ear. “Look while you can Fray. I can only manage it for so long.” he told her. His breath, shallow and soft as it traveled along the side of her neck. The sensation, making her tremble. A sight that did not go unnoticed by him. 

For a moment Corrine fell completely silent. Was the war god she had heard about really human after all? Just a man and not a monster? The moment between them, however, abruptly passed when Joe suddenly began to cough. The sound, rough and grating—almost violent. 

Joe quickly worked to re-affix the mask in place. The bladder well hidden behind his white mane of hair, began to inflate once more. Filtered air, filling his diseased lungs and returning his respirations to return to normal once again. Corrine, surprised as she watched him struggling with each breath. 

“You're sick.” she remarked. Without a word, Joe turned away from her. Bringing himself back out from the water and standing between Corrine and the door. Laughing like a mad man at her revelation. Now she knew the truth—that though the Wretched revered him as a god, he was still flesh and bone. 

“Aren’t we all.” he laughed again, that same sinister look in his eye had returned.

“I’m not…” she said, her words trailing off. Corrine swallowed back, stepping out from the water. The two of them now standing opposite one another across the pool. 

“Good…and you shall remain so. So young and beautiful. A desert flower, growing in the harshest of conditions. Yes, and strong…that I can tell. Here in the biodome you will be fed and clothed and educated. Miss Giddy will tend to your every need. You shall drink clean water and eat a bounty from my own personal garden. Sleep in a warm, soft bed and breathe the cleanest air that this world can offer.” he proclaimed. 

“Why? Why would you do that? Why am I here?” she asked, the only question the Immortan seemed to not wish to answer. A fact that chilled her down to the bone. 

“You were brought to the Citadel because your camp was caught by the War Boys in my domain. You were a casualty of circumstance.” Joe explained. 

“Where are the others—my people?” she asked him. 

“They are no longer your concern. Most of them are now dead.” he told her point blank. Watching the horror reach Corrine’s eyes. The people she had grown up with, friends, family, dead or worse and all because of him. 

“Then why not do away with me. Kill me or leave me for dead in the elements. Why keep me here? Why am I spared?” she pleaded, both angry and distraught. Unable to stop more tears from flowing. Joe intended to leave her unanswered. No explanation and without another word as he turned around and took hold of the door handle. Ready to step out and leave her alone in the vault when the sound of her sobbing made him stop. 

“From now on Fray, you belong to me…and me alone. I have not long don't have much time left and you…you will give me whatever I ask of you.” he commanded. His voice, boisterous and daunting. Its resonance, unyielding even with his back turned to her. 

“Please…what do you want from me? Just tell me?” she begged again. Joe stood still, staring at the vault door. Grappling with his thoughts. Things had already started off on an intense note. 

She was alone in an unfamiliar place, of course she had questions. She, like so many before her, was scared of what might come of her. Joe hoped in time she’d accept her fate, and that maybe there would be something more between them than originally intended. Her spirit was fiery, like the combustion of an engine, and nothing excited him more. 

“I want what any king wants for his kingdom. What he wants from his queen…and make no mistake Fray…here, and in the whole of the wasteland, I am king.” he began. His words, lingering heavy in the air between them. Corrine’s eyes fixed on him as he continued on. “I want a son. A son to carry on what I have set forth here. Someone who can ensure my legacy.”

“You…want?” Corrine began, having trouble getting out the words. Joe pulled the door open before choosing to answer her. 

“I want you to give me a son, Fray. A healthy child. Though us things can be different than before, if you will surrender to me.” 

“No…” Corrine cried back. Her fate laid out plainly before her. Joe turned to glance at her one last time before exiting the vault. Shutting the door tightly behind him and leaving her alone once again. Suddenly the beautiful ceiling, Corrine had admired, had begun to resemble a gilded cage.  

[leftyywrites]

Death x Taxes

Somethings you can't escape, Death, Taxes, Bureacracy. - J.Cole

In the grand cosmic joke that is existence, Death had discovered an immutable truth far more terrifying than mortality itself: bureaucracy is the only true immortal. They sat at their desk - a masterpiece of Nigerian craftsmanship from three centuries ago, when time meant something and artisans poured their souls into their work - contemplating this revelation while drowning in a sea of tax forms.

The thing about existing beyond the boundaries of time that no one mentions in the brochures (not that there were brochures) is that infinity doesn't exempt you from paperwork. If anything, it multiplies it, like a hydra of administrative duties - cut off one form's head, and three more sprout in its place, each demanding attention in triplicate.

"EXCUSE ME," Death said to the empty office, their voice carrying the weight of a thousand closing tomb doors, "BUT HOW EXACTLY DOES ONE CALCULATE DEPRECIATION ON A SCYTHE THAT EXISTS OUTSIDE OF LINEAR TIME?"

From atop the filing cabinet, a ragdoll cat named Taxes opened one eye and offered the kind of judgment that cats have perfected since the dawn of time. Death had named it Taxes because, like its namesake, it was both inevitable and remarkably annoying. The cat had wandered into Death's office three years ago and, in a display of cosmic irony, simply refused to die.

Death's scythe - currently serving as history's most elaborate letter opener - gleamed in the artificial light, its blade decorated with stickers of Captain America, the Winter Soldier, and Lucky the Monster Hunter. Sometimes, when you've been shepherding souls since the dawn of creation, you need to find joy in the small acts of rebellion against your own image. The stickers were a reminder that even the most final of entities could choose to be something more than their job description.

They picked up their Billy and Mandy calculator (a conscious choice over the standard-issue Supernatural Revenue Service model) and began the existential task of accounting for eternity. The drawer labeled "BUSINESS EXPENSES" told a story far more human than anyone might expect: movie ticket stubs from every screening of Ghostbusters (filed under "professional development"), coffee shop receipts from countless hours spent watching mortals live their beautiful, fleeting lives, and a collection of novelty t-shirts bearing slogans like "Grim Sleeper" and "I am NOT the skeleton detective, we just look alike."

"YOU KNOW, TAXES," Death mused, addressing the cat who had now knocked over their "Existential Muggage" mug (a Secret Santa gift from Madam KoiKoi. I rooted for Lucky, I think she found out.), "PERHAPS I SHOULD NOT HAVE STAYED IN THAT HARVESTING CLASS WHEN I FOUND OUT IT WASN'T ABOUT PRODUCE."

Taxes, flicking her tail in a gesture that conveyed the feline equivalent of "No shit, Sherlock."

The truth about loneliness is that it transcends mortality. Death had started collecting receipts not for tax purposes, but as proof that they existed beyond other people's endings. Each piece of paper was a anchor in time, a reminder that even the eternal could create moments worth remembering.

Death's gaze drifted to their framed certificates - diplomas from the Underworld School of Grim Reaping, honors in Advanced Scything and Ominous Monologuing. Back then, being one of the Four Horsemen had seemed like the ultimate career path. No one mentioned the paperwork. No one ever mentions the paperwork.

The sound of BoJack Horseman played quietly in the background - a show about mortality and purpose that Death found oddly comforting. They turned back to their stack of forms from the Supernatural Revenue Service, each envelope bearing the ominous seal of a raven clutching a quill pen. Even in the realm of eternal entities, bureaucracy reigned supreme.

"IT'S NOT THAT I DISLIKE MY WORK," Death continued, their voice softening. "THERE IS A CERTAIN POETRY IN BEING THE PERIOD AT THE END OF EVERY LIFE'S SENTENCE. BUT SOMETIMES..."

They trailed off, watching Taxes stretch and resettle, the cat's simple existence a reminder that life finds its way even in the office of Death. Perhaps that was the point - not the grandeur of being Death, but the small moments that made existence worthwhile: a purring cat, silly stickers, coffee shop visits, and yes, even the paperwork.

"AH, BUT WHAT'S DONE IS DONE," Death said, squaring their shoulders with newfound purpose. "WE ALL CHOOSE OUR ETERNITIES, DON'T WE? EVEN IF MINE COMES WITH A WITHHOLDING TAX."

And so Death returned to their forms, understanding that perhaps this too was part of the great cosmic balance - that even the end of all things needed its paperwork in order, its receipts filed, its existence documented. After all, what was bureaucracy if not humanity's attempt to impose order on the chaos of existence? And wasn't that, in its own way, a form of immortality?

[mkcannothelpyou]

disiuncta (Abyssal Hunters)

AK/Kinktober 2023, Day 15: “Sensory Deprivation”

The first major display of the night. A scene none but the Abyssal Hunters could realise, likely.

And Andreana, the only clothed woman left in the room, has volunteered her first-timer self for the most intense version that's been detailed to her, because she may as well jump in the deep end.

"Brave, aren't we, Cuttlefish?" Specter muses at her, all teeth and no reassurance.

"…" Skadi's just no reassurance.

Andreana closes her eyes and braces herself. "Okay. So you promise I'll be fine after this."

"Oh, you'll be more than—"

Gladiia judiciously interrupts, her authority ending Shark's jibing. "The severing of nervous connections, as with any other form of structural damage to the body, is well within your capacity for regeneration. Said regeneration, provided there is no interruption, will occur within seconds of the trauma."

Andreana nods. "Right." God, her pseudo-Captain is stunning. And way taller than her. The fact this woman is actively telling her the science behind pinching apart her spine is very surreal, very heightened icing on the cake. "Is my body gonna do anything weird while you cut my brain off?"

Gladiia's response is not a verbal one. It is, instead, a few measured paces placing the Captain behind Andreana, followed by two cold digits plunging straight into either side of the back of her neck.

Andreana gasps. It hurts. It hurts, but more than that, it is intimate. Palpable. Gladiia's thumb and finger cozily nestled inside her body's tissue.

"While I am no stranger to explanation, your questions are partially fuelled by your trepidation, Andreana. Would you prefer I briefly demonstrate the sensation instead? I may do so right now."

She may do so right now. "Yes." There is just no other answer Andreana could possibly give.

She feels that imposing presence behind her pinch decisively, and then she feels

she is a head on a body. She isn't anything down there, she can't bend, she can't move, she can't breathe. She can move her tongue and just about swallow, but no air flows through her throat for her to do anything with it.

Things start racing in her head, automatic fight-or-flight. What's her body doing? Is it slack? Is it standing? It must be standing or else her head would be falling. Wouldn't her legs crumple? Does the fact Skadi and Specter aren't doing anything mean she's okay? Specter's really delighted to be staring at her. She can't speak and she can't ask and nobody's saying anything.

Andreana knows her body's there, should be there. Anything could be happening to it and she wouldn't know. In fact, she doesn't even know what exactly it's like to have her body in the first place, she realises. She can't imagine it beneath her. She may or may not be starting to go faint

and then a few seconds have passed, and then things come back to her below. Oh. Gladiia's been holding her up this entire time.

A moment's pause, just to process all that. And then Andreana pants, very deeply. "Oh my god." She has a body, a whole-ass body, so this is what it was like.

"You know," Specter coyly says, onlooking the latent Hunter who's just had one of the most indescribable awakenings of her life, "you can technically survive your whole head coming off if it gets stuck back on soon enough."

"Don't," Skadi warns. "It's dangerous."

"Sounds right," Andreana just about forces out of her voicebox, still reeling from how after only losing it for a few seconds, every part of having her body feels so fresh. Wow, her lungs feel like heaving bags inside her—not for difficulty, just for the pure feeling of them existing. "So that gets… more intense the further up you go?"

Gladiia finally lets go of her as her panting abates some. Andreana sways a little on her feet.

"Further connections are severed with increased proximality to the brainstem, yes. That said, once again, I would consider the limit to be the plane resting on the topmost vertebra, which is what you just experienced."

"That's fine, I'm just… amazed." That you guys managed to gradate this experience.

"And turned on, clearly," comes a giggle from the peanut gallery. And it's true, Andreana realises, somehow she kind of has something trying to burst out of her shorts right now.

"That's weird."

"Ordinarily, I'd reassure you, but as far as I'm aware, we snuff out parts of ourselves like that for the sheer curiosity in our bodies. It's a uniquely Abyssal mode of intimacy, you know." Specter places a firm hand on Andreana's shoulder and leers into her face, filling Andreana's vision with her enthusement. "I think you're the first to be trained to like like it, and I'm including everyone who was permanently chopped to bits in that."

So Andreana's not just a freak of nature, she's groundbreaking about it. Seafloor-breaking. "Great."

[felteverywhere]

i’m currently suffering through winter and looking for distraction, so i’m very desperate for seaside/beach town, taylor swift song/romcom/romance book inspired plots right now. open to any and all dynamics (preferably m/f or f/f) and very happy to make new characters from the fcs listed under the cut (though i’d be down to think about others). down to write here or on discord. please like this or im me if you’re interested! 

fcs i’m itching to play against: grace van patten, devyn nekoda, willa fitzgerald, lola tung, katie douglas, mallory bechtel, nicole wallace, emilija baranac, natalia dyer, madelyn cline, priscilla quintana, christian serratos, özge özacar, emily alyn lind, jenny boyd, sydney sweeney, lili reinhart, kathryn newton, halle bailey, gideon adlon, grace van dien, hunter schafer, coco jones, ayça ayşin turan, laci j mailey, neslihan atagül, greta onieogou, violett beane, brittany o’grady, vanessa morgan, jeanine mason, reina hardesty, rachel hilson, zoey deutch, bailee madison, zaria simone.

existing muses i’d like to use: dawson, dove, rosalie, spencer, finley, jacob, saverina. 

fcs i’d like to use: christopher briney, kyle allen, rudy pankow, maddie phillips, laura harrier, fivel stewart, dylan sprouse, henry zaga, joshua bassett, dylan arnold, jordan gonzalez, brenton thwaites, thomas weatherall, chris wood, casey deidrick, alex fitzalan, oktay cubuk, oliver stark, ozan dolunay, jordan connor, ben levin, evan roderick, jack mulhern, leo howard, lorenzo zurzolo, khadijha red thunder, luke mitchell, rob raco, talia ryder + any of the ladies above. 

[lilaharper]

Aqui estão as conexões livres da Lila, mas sempre podemos combinar algo diferente, e eu adicionarei na página de conexões dela, aqui. Todas as conexões que não têm a espécie especificada no início são livres e podem se adaptar para qualquer uma, só precisamos combinar direitinho. Lembrando que os plot são sugestões e podem ser mudados para se encaixar melhor com seu personagem.

CONEXÕES SOBRENATURAIS.

WHEN THE HUNTER LIKES THE PREY (OPEN, female/male. Vampiro.)  - MUSE D foi contratado por um anônimo para se livrar de Lila. Ele não sabia os motivos, apenas que o pagamento em dinheiro era excelente e o pagamento em sangue ainda melhor. Ele poderia beber todo o sangue de Lila se quisesse, e que vampiro recusaria isso, considerando quão delicioso era aquele sangue? Entretanto, quando chegou a hora de realmente cumprir o trato, MUSE D não conseguiu.  ONCE UPON A PAST LIFE (OPEN, male/female. Imortal.) - MUSE E viu Lila pela primeira vez e imediatamente sentiu que havia voltado no tempo. Ele não conseguia acreditar nos próprios olhos; sua amiga realmente havia reaparecido assim? Ela havia se tornado uma vampira ou algum outro ser sobrenatural? Somente após conversar com Lila percebeu que se tratava de outra pessoa. Isso o deixou obcecado pela ideia de que Lila era a reencarnação de sua amiga, e por isso decidiu se aproximar dela para descobrir e ter certeza. HEALING WORDS (OPEN, female/male. Ser Mágico.) - MUSE F é um ser sobrenatural que usa seus poderes de cura para ajudar os outros, e isso é algo que Lila admira bastante. Ela já precisou de seus cuidados uma vez, mas seu verdadeiro interesse é tentar descobrir alguma maneira de poder fazer o mesmo e por isso está sempre importunando MUSE F.  EVERY MAGICAL WAY (AMBER, closed. Ser Mágico.) - AMBER se tornou amigo de Lila e percebeu que a garota não tinha nada para se proteger. Por conta disso, se tornou seu professor pessoal de magia e defesa pessoal. Sabia que Lila era uma humana dotada, mas sem conseguir usar seus poderes aquilo não servia de nada, então tinha que encontrar uma maneira de se defender.  IT’S IN THE BLOODLINE (OPEN, female/male. Bruxo.) - MUSE H é um bruxo que tem certeza que a Lila descende de alguma linhagem antiga poderosa e por isso possui um dom poderoso e misterioso. Lila é o mistério mágico perfeito para MUSE H e por isso está sempre procurando saber como desvendar esse enigma.  THE LONG LOST RELATIVE (OPEN, female/male. Immortal) - MUSE I tem quase certeza que Lila é uma descendente sua. Não sabe dizer ao certo o porquê, mas ele sente isso no seu âmago e por isso está tentando descobrir se é a verdade ou não, afinal já está vivo há muitos séculos, pode ser que sua linhagem tenha sobrevivido. Por conta desse seu pensamento, trata Lila como família e é muito protetor com ela. DREAMWALKING (OPEN, female/male. Ser Mágico.) - MUSE J é um amiguinho sobrenatural capaz de entrar nos seus sonhos. Ele vem ajudando a Lila a dormir melhor, mas também investigando seus sonhos para ver se consegue encontrar algo sobre o porquê da sua madrasta ter tido tanto interesse nela e também descobrir qual o seu dom misterioso.  WHAT A SAVIOR (OPEN, female/male. Humano Soldado.) - MUSE K é um dos soldados envolvidos no resgate da Lila enquanto estava sendo aprisionada por sua madrasta vampira. Eles se tornaram amigos após esse evento traumático e Lila é grata a ele por ter lhe salvado daquela situação horrível.

CONEXÕES MUNDANAS.

KNOCK KNOCK! WHO’S THERE? ATCH! (OPEN, female/male) - MUSE 1 é o único paciente da Dr. Delilah Harper, até porque infelizmente ela nunca pode realizar seu sonho de ser médica, mas por algum motivo MUSE 1 está sempre na sua porta precisando de seus dons curandeiros. Ela não reclama, na verdade gosta muito de lhe ajudar e por isso são muito bons amigos.  MY BEAUTIFUL MUSE (OPEN, male/female) - MUSE 2 é uma daquelas pessoas que você não consegue acreditar que realmente existe. Parece uma pintura viva, um personagem de um livro clássico, uma verdadeira Annabel Lee. E por conta disso, Lila é obcecada por MUSE 2 e lhe usa como sua musa, ou seu muso, para sua escrita.  MY OWN INVESTIGATION CASE (OPEN, male/female) - MUSE 3 é um amigo complicado, porque ao mesmo tempo que são próximos, Lila sente que não sabe nada sobre ele. E por ser uma enxerida de estado terminal, ela não consegue deixar isso quieto e está sempre lhe importando com perguntas, tentando descobrir seus segredos.  SCOOBY GANG (OPEN, multiple. Humanos.)- MUSE GROUP é um grupo de amigos humanos intrometidos. Sempre que algo acontece na cidade, pode ter certeza de que eles ou já estavam lá ou chegaram poucos minutos depois. Eles são curiosos e investigativos, e essa combinação geralmente causa muitos problemas. Entretanto, são ótimos amigos e estão sempre lá uns pelos outros.

[twoafflictedsouls]

THE DARKSTALKERS

Hsien-Ko { Afflicted | Former Dark Hunter | Primary Muse }

Mei-Ling { Afflicted | Former Dark Hunter | Primary Muse }

Morrigan Aensland

Lilith Aensland

Lord Raptor { Afflicted }

B.B. Hood | Bulleta

Felicia

Q-Bee

Bishamon

Sasquatch

Jon talbain

Anakaris

Huitzil

Victor

Demitri Maximoff

Donovan Baine

Anita

Pyron

Jedah Dohma

Nezulla The Rat Monster

Nuclear mutants

Frankenstein

Baragon

The H-men

Yuko Nomura The Vampire Doll

Commander Hell

Space Beast man

Batmen

Griffin / Black Moth

Malic

Matango

Mizuno The Human Vapor

Sudo Telegian

Invisible Man Takamitsu Nanjo

Nezura ( Nezulla's sibling )

Giant Antarctic Sea Beast | Antarctic Godzilla

Kabagon ( Offspring of Antarctic godzilla )

Gamera Like Organism ( Antarctic's Wife )

Alien Cosmonauts

Chini Lake Kaiju

RED EARTH FUTURE

Leo

Tessa | Tesaba

Mai Ling

Kenji

Ravange

Hauzer

Lavia

Kongou

Hydron

Blade

Scion

Gi Gi

THE CYBERBOTS FUTURE

Jin Saotome

Earth Corp

La Resistence

G.O.D.

Santana Laurence

Mary Miyabi

Gawaine Murdock

Arieta

Bao and Mao

Chiyomaru Kagura and Tessan Hagure

Princess Devilotte de Death Satan IX

Dave and Xavier

SHADE

Emperor Death Satan

UMBRELLA CORP

HUNK { Squad Leader }

GOBLIN-6

J. Martinez { Codename: GHOST }

3A7

Skull-5G6 { Field Scientist }

Bray-K8 { Combat Medic }

HOUND WOLF SQUAD

Chris Redfield { Squad Leader }

Rolando Elba { Umber Eyes }

Dion Wilson { Night Howl }

Charlie Graham { Canine }

John Perlman { Lobo }

Emily Berkhoff { Tundra }

KERBEROS INC.

Nezulla ( Squad Leader )

Gizmo ( Gremlin Operator )

Feebee ( Aerial Assault Fairy )

Steinmauer ( Assault Barricade Golem )

Natasha ( Revenant Assassin )

Laura ( Martian Combat Medic )

Tachibana ( Demolition Amanojaku )

Elizabeth ( Nuckelavee Support )

Null ( Dab tsog Infiltrator )

Helena ( Strigoi Assault )

Amihan ( Aswang Berserker )

Wei-shen ( Fenghuang pyrotechnician )

Jack ( Assault War Machine )

Alex ( Batsquatch Skirmisher )

Arabella ( Demon Knight )

Akiko ( Tortured Test Subject + mutant )

THE INFECTION

IRREGULAR MUTATIONS

Zombies

Crows

Cerberus ( Undead dogs )

Infected | Undead animals in general

V-ACT Mutations

Crimson Heads

Lickers

Juvenile Lickers {  young adults or children prior to infection.. }

Lickers - β

Eliminators

ENHANCED MUTATIONS

Sentient Flesh Hives

E-T-103s

Ryuko Matoi

Satsuki Kiryuin

NE-α Type Parasite

t-Advanced Super Tyrants

Lisa Trevor ( Enhanced By The E-t-Virus )

Defective Tyrants

Gamma Hunter Y

Misty | Samantha Chambers ( Alpha Zombie + T-advanced )

Poison Zombie

Pale Heads

Uber Lickers

Leeches

Night Feeders

Queen Leech-S

Annihilators { Enhanced Eliminator }

Tall Horses { Infected Mutated Horses }

Mountain Cat { Anthropomorphic wild cat monstrosities }

Inferior Tyrants | Dictators { humans that had some compatibility with the t-Virus who became infected through secondary infection. Selective wild infection }

Dissolving man

Zeiram B

Super Zeiram

GOL-Variant

GOL-Imperfection Type

Various Powered Zombies

T- Advanced ( People infected by this virus will be rapidly mutating by their own will even outside an incubation tube, incapable losing themselves when they transformed. }

Unknown four legged zombie Type

Transforming B.O.W.

Corpse Snatchers

Blood Hounds

Retchers

Sirens

Crawlers

Sprinters

Slashers ( Evolved Pale Heads )

Blood suckers

01

Detonators

Demolishers

Bolters

Bruisers

The Seraphim ( Hsien-Ko-A }

The Flesh Wombs { Hsien-Ko-B }

The Afflicted { People who're mutating into Seraphim via merging of bio mass or through infection }

G-Virus Mutations

G Mutations

G Zombie

ENHANCED G MUTATIONS

The Puppeteers

Super Golgatha Zombie Beast

Super Golgatha-EX

G4 Detached-Hand Monstrosity

G-Dogs { Dogs infected with G-virus }

The witch ( Cats infected with G-virus }

G-Infected Animals { failed to develop G-Cells, or have imperfect replications. }

G-Hunters { Stronger Hunter Variant }

G-Marionettes { G-virus infected bodies stitched Together into doll like abominations }

G- Nobodies

HSIEN-KO CHILDREN

Rei-Ling

Li-Liang

Yanwang

Hsien-Ko-Novum

Hsien-Ko-Initium

[ultradespairboyz]

My first post of these two and it's this. I swear i have serious art of them

[pyro-madder]

NOOO I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FIRST, I SAW THE POST WHEN IT WAS BOOORN

anyway

Laurence and Damian for bingo game please!

😩 pyro askbox speedrun any%

Lau

ALMOST !! ALMOST... having to take both his boss form and my headcanons for his human self makes for a larger range. i draw laurence a lot but i've never really talked about him, so let's dive into it because the thing is, i wouldn't even call him a fav - he's a muse ! (alongside the hunter themself - what was the theory again ? /j)

but my story with laurence is that, he barged in my brain uninvited, through and through (like he did for the other characters LOL). i reached his boss fight, told myself "aight everything is his fault let's kick his ass" and then the cello(?) solo kicks in and my brother says something like "hearing that once you know the story, while he drags himself pathetically on the floor, it hits different. you can hear all the regrets he has" and i was like WAIT NO STOP DON'T MAKE ME FEEL. then i imagined his stupid fake smile and boom i couldn't stop drawing him. and then after several months playing with his tormented psyche i realized !! oops !! i did it again, unconsciously projecting my relational issues and insecurities onto a twink. terrible. heartbreaking

Dam

baby (<- old man), has done no wrong (<- part of a cult)

i've mentionned why i like damian before so i won't expand on that, but it's funny you sent those two specifically because i was thinking earlier about how dam would've reacted to laurence's death. they weren't /close/ but still, that's a junior he saw enroll and graduate... i also like to think that they were acquainted enough for damian, as a humble tomb prospector, to be allowed to seek out vicar laurence without going through the entire hierarchy and to keep formalities at a minimum. simpler(??) times...

[songofthesibyl]

Very Faerie — An ACOTAR playlist

For Tamlin Week day four, a soundtrack for A Court of Thorns and Roses. It is generally chronological; and since it is for Tamlin Week, it has a slight focus on Tamlin, though most of the songs apply to both Tamlin and Feyre. Cover image is from an illustration by Stephanie Law of The Ballad of Tam Lin.

Song listing with notes below:

Tam Lin by Mediæval Bæbes

         “And at the end of seven years           We pay a tiend to Hell.           I am sae fair and fu' of flesh           I'm feared it be myself.”

          “Tiend” is also known as “tithe.” The Hell tithe, as described, was a payment that had to be given, every seven years, of a fairy to Hell. It is not commonly referred to in fairy mythology; the Ballad of Tam Lin is one of the few mentions of it.

2. Howl by Tanya Tagaq

        A lament for the sentries killed in the curse. 

3. The Curse by Agnes Obel

        “It was swift, it was just another wave of a miracle

        But no one, nothing at all would go for the kill

        If they called on every soul in the land, on the moon

        Only then would they know a blessing in disguise

        The curse ruled from the underground, down by the shore

        And their hope grew with a hunger to live unlike before

4. The Hunter Gets Captured By The Game by The Marvelettes

         I had to lay such a tender trap

         Hoping you might fall into it

         Love hit me like a sudden slap

         One kiss and then I knew it

         Oh, my plans didn't work out like I thought

         ‘Cause I had laid my trap for you but it seems like I got caught

         What's this whole world comin' to

         Things just ain't the same

         Any time the hunter gets captured by the game

         MY ultimate Feylin song.

5. The Boy with the Thorn in His Side by The Smiths

        The boy with the thorn in his side

        Behind the hatred, there lies

        A murderous desire for love

        How can they look into my eyes

        And still they don't believe me?

        How can they hear me say those words

        Still they don't believe me?

6. I Hope That I Don’t Fall In Love With You by Tom Waits

        ‘Cause falling in love just makes me blue

7. Throughout The Dark Months of April and May by Cocteau Twins 

        The Bogge, the Púca, torn wings

8. Lhiannan Shee by Mediæval Bæbes

        Lhiannan Shee, also spelled Leanan sídhe, is a type of Irish fairy that takes human lovers, often becoming a muse to them. The human chosen, however, often ends up dead or insane from the encounter. “Lhiannan Shee” means “fairy lover.”

9. Hymn To Herne by S. J. Tucker

        Hunter who tracks outside of time

        Guardian lord of ancient rhyme

        Brother stag in the musky glen

        And consort of the Goddess in her woodland den

        We call you forth as we make our way

        Walking in your power every day

        Guide us true in our hunt this night

        And maybe even later in the Great Rite!

       He will call you out, make you sweat

       Give you a blessing that you'll never forget

       So revel in the chase and let your heartbeat run:

       Blessed are the children of the Horned One!

Herne the Hunter is a spirit said to haunt the British countryside. He is known to bear antlers, and is often associated with other horned gods and gods of the hunt and the wild such as Cernunnos, Pan, the Green Man, etc. though these aren’t all the same figure necessarily. The Great Rite is a traditional Wiccan ceremony. Writer Starhawk on The Horned God:

“The Horned God is difficult to understand because he does not fit into any of the expected stereotypes, neither those of the ‘macho’ male nor the reverse-images of those who deliberately seek effeminacy. He is gentle, tender, and comforting, but he is also the Hunter. He is the Dying God—but his death is always in service of the life force. He is untamed sexuality—but sexuality as a deep, holy, connecting power. He is the power of feeling, and the image of what men could be if they were liberated from the constraints of patriarchal culture.”

10. The Mummers’ Dance by Lorena McKennitt

        When in the springtime of the year

        When the trees are crowned with leaves

        When the ash and oak, and the birch and yew

        Are dressed in ribbons fair

        Mummers are masked and costumed performers often associated with springtime and fertility.

11. As The Bell Rings The Maypole Spins by Dead Can Dance

       Maypoles were described as being raised for Midsummer in A Court of Thorns and Roses; in some cultures they are raised then, but they are also associated with May Day—known in Welsh as Calan Mai

12. Beltaine Fires by Gaia Consort

        Beltaine is a similar celebration to Calan Mai. The fires occur on the night before, traditionally as protection for cattle, crops, and people. Rituals involved people leaping over the fires, and driving cattle between the bonfires. 

13. Lilac Wine by Jeff Buckley

        Lilac wine is sweet and heady, where's my love?

        Lilac wine, I feel unsteady, where's my love?

        Listen to me, why is everything so hazy?

        Isn't that she, or am I just going crazy, dear?

        Lilac wine, I feel unready for my love

        Feel unready for my love

14. Joga by Björk

       All that no-one sees

       You see

       What's inside of me

       Every nerve that hurts

       You heal

       Deep inside of me

       You don't have to speak

       I feel

      Emotional landscapes

      The “Winter Woods” painting scene

15. Pepper-Tree by Cocteau Twins

        A head in the garden; the curse ticks down 

16. Jig Of Life by Kate Bush

        "C'mon and let me live!"

        Solstice/Rhysand terrorizing Feyre. This is my favorite song featuring the fiddle.

17. All Night Long by Peter Murphy

       No bad vibe hearts

       Tamlin and Feyre’s last night together. This song was inspired by Beauty and the Beast, and includes audio from Jean Cocteau’s 1946 film La Belle et La Bête.

18. Flight by Tanya Tagaq

        The next song on the album this comes from, Animism, is “Fight.” And though Tamlin does fight to the last, as evidenced by Feyre when she returns to the Manor, I imagined this song as representing Tamlin as prey that has evaded his predator for over 500 years—but who finally gets caught.

19. Otterley by Cocteau Twins

        Nothing is known of what happened to Tamlin under the mountain; still, this song describes the unreal and nightmarish atmosphere in the early days of his captivity.

20. 57821 (feat. Deep Cotton) by Janelle Monae and Deep Cotton

        One by one

        It's your time lead them both back to one

        The sun has come (sun has come)

        May your light lead them both back to one

        (May your light lead them both back to one)

        Indivisible sum

        Here's the book now the saga's begun

        He wonders if she is the one (she wonders if he is the one)

        (You're the one) you're the one

        “If it’s any consolation…she would have been the one for you…”

         Feyre returns.

21. The Warden by Chelsea Wolfe

        Hole, rack, wheel, time

        Heart, thorn, knees, blight

        Hand, hold, bright white

        Whole head feels light

        Tore off my limbs and my breasts

        The heart it's heavy in the chest

        Pulled out my tongue so I can't speak the truth

        The picture in my vision it's the sun, it's you

        This song is about two lovers who are separated and tortured so that they will betray one another—but who refuse to.

22. In Power We Entrust The Love Advocated - Remastered by Dead Can Dance

       I am disabled by fears concerning which course to take

       When memory bears witness to the innocents 

       Consumed in dying rage

      The way lies through our love

       The final trial.

23. Dreams Made Flesh - Remastered by This Mortal Coil

         Feyre’s suffering under the mountain.

24. Persephone (The Gathering of Flowers) - Remastered by Dead Can Dance

        Feyre’s death. The titles of this song and the last, of course, hint at what’s to come.

25. Into My Arms - 2011 Remastered Version by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

        And I believe in Love

        And I know that you do too

        And I believe in some kind of path

        That we can walk down, me and you

        Feyre’s resurrection, and reunion with Tamlin.

26. All Flowers In Time Bend Towards The Sun by Ruby Weapon and Hannah Telle

        All flowers in time bend towards the sun

        I know you say that there's no one for you

        But here is one

@tamlinweek2023 Day 4: Music