#beastly beast man

[risto-licious]

a new oc masterpost for the big old ocean daddy fish wizard risto! thunder magician. actually a thunder & storm controlling beast. cursed, forced into humanoid form. devours humans. grows massively bigger the more souls he devours. is nameless, humans however call him ‘risto’. he’s a mom, he’s a dad, an idiot, secretly very soft. he’s a thunderous mixture of smug beast, tired magician and dramatic, romantic fool. getting into spicy fights with bold knights and adventurers who dare to challenge or taunt him are more than possible. equally he’s likely to just be your tired wizard in a lighthouse who may or may not be a threat, but always should be approached with caution. if you possess the wits and a silver tongue, your chances of either getting away or having an actual fun chat with him are just in reach.

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

People who say that Beauty and the Beast (1991) endorses Stockholm Syndrome and domestic abuse have very grossly missed the entire point of the story.

[thegreatsaiya-z]

We interupt your regularly scheduled hiatus with some blorbo posting, courtesy of Dragon Ball Super: Super Hero

[sacha-da-1]

We APPRECIATE Buster Graham in this household!!

[the-zapped-part-timer]

[pennamesmith]

A Beastly Sideshow

Disguised as a carnival worker, Beast Man captures Cringer by exploiting extreme cat horniness. He-Man chases them to Snake Mountain and defeats Skeletor with pepper. Thats it, that’s the episode.

Episode Highlights:

Orko burns water.

…At least they left a note?

The face of courage!

Skeletor sneezing, having inhaled pepper.

His skull is so big because it’s full of secrets.

Moral: It takes courage to resist peer pressure.

[selineram3421]

здраствуйте можно сделать реакцию на ревность аластора

Translated:

Hi, can I get a reaction to Alastor's jealousy?

Yes.

Jealousy Headcanons

Alastor X Reader

Warning! ⚠

⚠ platonic to romantic, violence, all caps in bold italics = SOUND EFFECTS, implied torture/murder, gore? eyeballs, possessive? Alastor wants all of your attention ⚠

Alastor has never felt jealous! How absurd of you to think that! Hahaha! Ha... Who is that demon taking up your attention?

He always had your attention.

You could be talking to the Princess but still focus on him.

Hell, you could be checking in a guest and still keep up with his tale of the day.

But now it was quite odd.

There was a demon coming by the hotel, not to see if they were interested in the cause but to use up his friend's precious time.

Even now the beastly thing walked up to the check in counter and started up a conversation with you.

He watched from the bar.

"Hey! I see its dead as ever in here.", the dragon demon grinned as they leaned on the counter.

"Not true~", you had replied. "I checked in four new guests!"

Yes, you had a knack of persuasion. Able to convince many to do almost anything. Sometimes even him.

"Oh yeah? How many sinners walked in?", the scaled creature leaned close.

Far too close for his liking.

"I just told you how many.", you replied and placed a finger on the dragon's snout, pushing them back as well. "Personal space."

He didn't like this demon.

Everything about them set something off. Their manners, their way of speaking, the way they move-

"Oh come on, I don't bite sugar cake~", the beast took your hand and kissed their way up to your elbow.

The way they t̵̬̥̻͂̿̈́ȏ̴̒͠u̸c̷̈́̊̆́̓͘h̷e̴̖̖͒̓͂͋̎ḑ̴̣̋͜ you.

"Nope!", you yanked your arm away and held it close. "None of that.", you laughed nervously with an uncomfortable smile.

It looked wrong. Your smile should be a happy one.

"I said I don't bite!", they laughed and tried to grab at your arm again. "You know I'm messing! When's your break?", they leaned over the counter, still trying to get at something to pull you closer. "I know a good bar to go to, or we can go to the club! I'd like to see your ass in something a little less-"

"Ew, no.", you rejected and backed away.

"Come on!", they started to climb on the counter. "Its just one time! I'll even help you get in and out of your clothes.", they grabbed onto your sleeve.

That's ENOUGH!

He quickly shadow traveled and snatched the wrist of the dragon.

"I believe they said no."

The beast growled with a sneer before looking at him, freezing up once realizing who had their wrist.

"I was just joking man. Haha..", the dragon looked between him and you. "I understand! I'll back away. The slut is yours."

"Excuse me!?", you said angrily.

His antlers grew, the low static that hummed now raising up in volume.

"₵₳ⱤɆ ₮Ø ⱤɆ₱Ɇ₳₮ ₮Ⱨ₳₮?"

"The slut-"

SNAP

He held the demon's snout shut as they screamed and cried over their broken wrist.

"Now, there is a no killing rule in the hotel.", he said and then grinned menacingly. "But that doesn't apply outside."

His smile widened after seeing the panic in their eyes.

"Dear.", he turned to face you. "Has this guest overstayed their welcome?"

You stared at the beast with such a terrifyingly hateful glare.

"Yes they have.", you replied, crossing your arms. "I'd like to keep a souvenir, for memories."

And then you gave him that lovely smile.

"Alastor, do you think you could get me a dragon eye or two? I hear they make nice details to things."

"I'll make sure to get them.", he released the demon, only for his tendrils to take hold of them. "I won't be long.", he reassured, lifting up your hand to kiss the back of it.

He saw you blush before he 'escorted' the demon outside.

After finishing up (and calling Niffty to clean up), he returned with two freshly picked dragon eyes.

You thanked him with an odd little gleam in your eyes. No doubt your mind jumping idea to idea of what you could create with them.

Now with the pest gone, he would have your attention again.

Just like he wanted

"Thank you Alastor. I'll be able to make something interesting with these."

"I can't wait to see what you make this time."

Perhaps he'll ask you that question sooner than later.

Of course he has to prepare everything to properly court you.

I am using a website to translate requests. Please let me know if I have translated anything wrong.

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@willowaudreykeyes @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @lbcreations-blog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

[genderfreakxx]

The way anyone feels about this “Beast” transformation in the Vanessa Hudgens adaptation of Beauty and The Beast tells me p much all I need to know about how you’re gonna treat alt and queer people in general tbh. Easiest red flag test in modern cishet media.

[plutoswritingplanet]

It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt. 2

a/n: re-uploaded cause tumblr wouldn't show it in the tags for some reason Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con, Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atriedes, Horny Violence, and some angsty family relations (lmao)

Summary: The courting becomes more and more complicated, as both you and the Na-Baron discover something about each other.

Part.1, Part 3. Part 4.(finale)

- He's a beast.

Lady Jessica stops in her tracks, her hands sliding gently across the fabric of your nightgown. It's your Mother, that puts it out on the table next to your bed. But the person, who turns back towards you with an unreadable expression, is most definitely not her. You're talking to a Bene Gesserit sister now. A freezing chill runs up your spine, and you start picking at the skin around your fingernails, a nervous habit you've picked up a long time ago.

- Have you forgotten all that I have taught you? - she asks, turning to face you fully, in the dimly lit space of your bedroom

Subconsciously you retreat into yourself, body leaning further away from her, as if that distance might save you from whatever unpleasant revelation will most likely fall upon you. Lady Jessica takes a deep breath, her lips pulling back into an easy, soothing smile. In the past, you would look for expressions such as this, fish them out for comfort. Now, as you look upon your Mother's face, it all seems to be a trap made specifically for you.

- Men like him, beastly men, are the weakest ones - she explains, taking slow steps towards your hunched form - They need the power and the blood to feel worthy of existing, which makes them easy to manipulate. Keep them pliant under your hands like fresh dough. 

She sits beside you, your mattress dipping under her weight, and your eyes are immediately drawn to your Mother's elegant hands, folded neatly in her lap. You wish you could put your head there. Have her pull your running thoughts out with gentle caresses. A hairbrush lays abandoned on the vanity in front of you, and silently you contemplate, whether you'll ever have the opportunity to have your hair brushed by her. 

- You must find his weakness, what drives him to do what he does. And then control it.

- I don't want to control my husband - the words spill out of your lips, before you have the chance to stop them - I want to love him, to support him. To give him children he'll love, children I'll love. 

Tears fall in heavy waterfalls down your cheeks. You haven't had the luxury of a good cry since your betrothed had arrived, and it feels divine. Letting your body shake and shiver, wrecked by uninhibited sobs, as your Mother looks down upon you, torn between the two roles she must fulfill. 

The more you've thought about your situation, the more hopeless you felt. The Harkonnens will never let you see your family again, you're sure of it. You'll have to deal with all the horrors of Giedi Prime entirely on your own, with no support from your husband, no friends, no family. And your children, as they are sure to come, will be taken away from you. Thrown into the black and white, until there's no love left in them. 

The Emperror is a cruel man, you think. An execution would've been a kinder end. 

- Why did you have to make me a Daughter? - the way your voice breaks in desperation fills you with shame - Why couldn't you give Father another Son?

You know you've overstepped, as soon as the accusatory tone registers in your brain. It is far too late by then, and the hands, which just moments before you've fantasized about running through your hair, grip you tightly. Your Mother's face, a constant image of beauty, twists into something darker, something you don't recognize, and you gasp, as her dull fingernails dig into the skin of your wrist.

- Your Father has Paul - her voice is barely above a whisper, blue eyes stabbing you with the intensity of her gaze - I gave him a son, because he asked for a son. Because I loved him enough to give him one. And he can have him. He can fill him with lessons of male leadership, of short-sighted plans. You. You are my Daughter. You are mine, and I've trained you well enough to conquer this task.

A hopeless pit settles itself in the void of your stomach.

You've always known your destiny would be to marry well, to further House Atreides' legacy. And yet, somehow, there was a sliver of hope, treacherously worming itself into your brain. Your Father had Paul, the perfect heir. Surely, he could send him off for the greater good and leave you to your own devices. Let you find someone to care for you, someone you'd do anything for. The thought sits in the pit of your stomach, turning your insides in shame. Still, you can't shake the sinking feeling, that if the universe was kind, you would've been born a Son. 

Your Mother, or more likely, the Bene Gesserit, stands up, a cold chill filling the space where her body used to sit. She regards you once, a stern, unwavering gaze.

- Wear black tomorrow.

Perhaps, you'll die in your sleep tonight. Perhaps the universe will bring you this small mercy.

*** Perhaps you did die. 

Through the haze of dreams, you can see him. Bare, as the day he was born, body gleaming white in the darkness of your room.

You can't move, can't see his face, and when he approaches, every single one of your muscles tense. You shift under the covers, cold tendrills of fear engulfing you entirely. He comes closer, moves like a wild cat, stands at the foot of your bed. 

The need to run is overwhelming, but your body refuses to listen, as slowly, torturously slowly, he climbs on top of you, defined muscles moving under his skin in a way that reminds you of some cursed demon, rather than a man. His scent fills your nostrils, a mixture of something heady and metalic, and, like a little child scared of the dark, you try to hide your face under the covers. 

This demon version of your betrothed sits down, sculpted thighs squeezing around your sides, and with rising panic you realize, he's slowly choking the life out of you. A fitting end, a welcomed one. Perhaps it would be better to die right now, before you discover what atrocities he plans to commit on your body and mind, after you're wedded. 

Then, his hand reaches behind his back, full lips pull upwards, exposing blackened out teeth. You barely register the glint of his sword, not until he holds it high up, above his hand. You're not allowed a moment to wallow in your confusion, as your future husband brings the weapon down, sinking it with brutal force into your beating heart.

You awake screaming.

***

In the morning, you pull a black tunic over your head, remnants of your dream clinging to you like an unwanted shadow. 

Every move of the silky fabric against your skin feels like a small defeat, and with your head hung low, you make your way towards the dining hall. Truly, you're not hungry, stomach turning and twisting, a steady presence of nerves keeping your body on edge. Your attendance is required however, such are customs, and it is entirely too eaarly for another lecture about your behaviour. 

As you enter the room, your mask of tired indifference slips just for a second, a mixture of fear and anger flickering in, and out of existence.

 There, opposite of your Father you can see him. Your future husband, the love of your miserable, ending life. Slow horror washes over you, as you suddenly realize that this demonic, otherwordly version of him, which visited you in your nightmares is just how he looks. He greets you with a polite inclination of his smooth head, and you consider not showing any outward sign of repulsion, a small victory on your part. Your Mother doesn't think so, but you dodge her sharp eyes in favor of greeting your brother.

It doesn't go unnoticed, the way Feyd Rautha's eyes drink in greedily the sight of you embracing Paul. His gaze lingers on your smile, and he raises his cup to his lips, scrunching his nose ever so slightly at the unfamiliar drink he's been offered. You want to ask, if they have coffee on Giedi Prime, but the question is forcefully swallowed down. You will not talk to this man. He will never know anything more than contempt from you. Curse your Mother's words, you'll fight this battle every day, on your own, if you have to. 

- My Daughter will show you around the training barracks after breakfast - Duke Leto announces, and you freeze with a cup of coffee half-way to your lips.

- Will I? - you ask, trying to control the edge in your voice. 

- Na-Baron has made inquires about a place to train - your Father explains, giving you a meaningful side eye - You'll accompany him. 

The coffee tastes like rot in your mouth, and you place your cup down with a note of finality. You won't look at him, you don't have to. That knowing smirk could be felt through the very particles flowing in the air, every single one laughing at your predicament. 

Despite your best efforts, the breakfast comes to an end, your family slowly rising to attend to their duties. Your Father, ever the cordial man, bids his farewells to the unwelcomed guest. Your Mother does the same, albeit sounding more honest. Paul lingers as long as Lady Jessica allows him, until he is forced to retreat by a slender hand tugging mercilessly on his elbow. A gesture both of you know intimately from your childhoods. 

Before you know it, you're left alone with the pale imitation of a man. He arises slowly from his seat, smoothly making his way towards you, each of his footsteps echoing in the dining room. 

- Shall we, my Lady? 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his offered hand, like a white spider living just outside of your vision. With a shudder, you slip out of your chair, trying very hard not to touch him, and failing immediately, when his broad chest nearly pushes you back into your seat. 

He smells nice, your brain betrays you, the scent bringing back images from your night terror, causing an involuntary shiver to run up your spine. With averted gaze, you turn to leave, ignoring his still extended hand. He follows you like a shadow, catching up to you in no time, as you slide through the corridors of the Palace. It's uncomfortable, to say the least, walking with him behind your back. His eyes bear into you, a prickly feeling at the base of your neck making you roll your shoulders.

It follows you, as he follows, right to the very destination. All in blessed silence, a small miracle to save this already dreadful morning.

The men, launging about at the training barracks freeze in their spots, and your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, when Duncan Idaho catches your eyes. His skin has a beautiful, warm tone, highlighted by the morning sun flowing into the room through the windows. You nod, he nods back, an unspoken understanding blooming between the two of you. There could be no suspicion of any closer bond, lest this engagement would be called off. A result, perhaps favorable to you personally, but your family would never live down the shame. And you would never jeopardize Paul's future, no matter how hollow yours looked.

- You have a warrior's body - your betrothed comments, as he inspects the blades laid out on a small table - Do you train here as well?

Small talk, you could do small talk. With a sigh, you tear your gaze away from Duncan, and turn to the Harkonnen, forcing something resembling a polite smile to bloom onto your features. 

- Yes, I do - you answer curtly, eyes falling onto elegant, white fingers, sliding over a shiny metal blade. 

- It is not a common practice here, is it? - he looks at you, eyes gliding over your stature - Women being trained to fight?

Suddenly very much aware of your body, you cross your arms on your chest, hugging yourself tightly. You don't miss the way his gaze seems to linger on the low neckline of your tunic, and with bitterness on your tongue you wonder, has this man ever felt ashamed. 

- Not common, but it does happen - your voice betrays your emotions, a sharp edge settling over your tone, causing the man to arch an eyebrow.

Finally, he settles onto a chosen blade, bringing it up to the light and with laser focus observing the way particles dance on the steel surface. Then, he looks back at you, catching you in the act of observing the prominent, lean muscles on his neck. You ignore the knowing smirk and will your blushing cheeks to suddenly become devoid of color.

They don't, of course, and you scurry to the side of the table, to fiddle with the rest of the weaponry. Your favorite training blade is there, and instinctually, your hand reaches for it. 

- Train with me.

The request catches you off guard, and you shoot him a questioning look, one he deflects with a nonchalant shrug. 

Your muscles flinch, as you drag your hand back from the blade. 

- It would hardly be appropriate - you counter, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your tunic.

To that, he tilts his head, light eyes studying you for a longer moment, until you truly feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny. 

- And suddenly you're worried about what the court says? - he cuts you off, before you have the chance to ask, just what exactly does he mean by that - Perhaps you're too soft to fight me.

- I know what you're doing - you point an accusatory finger at his chest, and the man smiles, blackened teeth peaking between his full lips.

- And what am I doing? - it's hard to ignore the teasing timbre in his voice, and you swallow thickly.

- You're trying to get under my skin.

Shivering under the expected cruel glint in his eye, as another, most likely filthy innuendo purses his lips, you turn to him fully, a serious expression on your features.

- I've seen you fight, Na-Baron - his jaw tightens at the sound of your voice curling around his title - I know you're a force to be reckoned with, I'm not scared to admit that.

He straightens, regards you with furrowed brows for a longer second, until, yet again you start to fidget under his gaze.

- Perhaps then, you're scared you'll hurt me - the mere idea is so preposterous, your head snaps in his direction - If I had known, you liked me that much...

- That is entirely not true, and you know it - you deflect again, although annoyance begins to paint your voice.

Then, his hand shoots out, gripping your arm and pulling you closer. Air seems to thicken around you, as you look up at him, with surprise quickly morphing into outrage. His breath mingles with yours, and you can't seem to look away from his eyes, pupils nearly drowned in the overwhelming blue of his irises.

- Stop hiding, my viper. Fight me.

The command, spoken in a harsh whisper just shy of your lips, turns your insides into molasses. 

His taller form leans down to tower over yours, an intense expression settling over his sharp features. Close to excitement, much too close to desire, even closer to a murderous curiosity. Your throat feels entirely too dry, and before you can stop yourself, you swallow thickly, tongue darting out to lick your lips. His eyes snap almost immediately downwards, and your heart stops beating. You can't see anymore blue in his irises, only black. Darkness covers his eyes reflecting his thoughts, and you feel like you have to flee right now, before something terrible happens to you. 

So you do just that. Ripping yourself away from his closeness, you return to the table, hand finding your chosen blade without really looking. 

Another flash of black teeth, as the Na-Baron realizes what you're doing, and the both of you enable the shields surrounding your bodies. 

The gathered soldiers watch on, as you march towards the center of the room, determination filling every step to the brim. Duncan gives you a look, which you choose to ignore. You can't think about him now, not when you have your honor to defend against this Harkonnen monster of a man. 

Feyd Rautha rolls his shoulders, discards the thin fabric of his dress shirt, and once again you are stricken with his almost god-like physique. The blade looks like an extension of his hand, as he weighs it and slashes the air in front of him. Then, he fixes you with a challenging expression, as if he expects you to do the same, to try and best him at some shameless display.

You decide to keep your clothes on, blade held high, ready to strike. 

He jumps from one leg to another, and immediately an orchestra of alarm bells rings out in your brain. Should a man really be this excited at the prospect of fighting his future wife? Should you be this excited? Questions without answers, and before any of you make a move, another one absent-midedly floats to the surface. Just how much can you hurt each other, before the wedding is concluded? How much you'll inevitably hurt each other after?

The darkness he has brought on the ship with him must be contagious, because despite your better judgement, you smile. A sharp smirk, that makes your eyes look less like a human and more like a wild animal. And he drinks it all in, as he begins to circle you.

You'd never show him your back, never again. He's a tried and true predator, the only instinct he has, is a killer one. A fact you quickly get aquatinted with, as he unleashes a series of lightning fast strikes your way. 

Immediately you realize, that small show of cruelty he organized at your grandfather's theatre was nothing, compared to what he could truly do. And still, you suspect he's holding back, as you barely dodge a nasty stab, right under your ribs. Another one is blocked against your sheild, and before you have a chance to collect yourself, third one sends you back a couple of steps. 

He doesn't let you get away, with confident steps pushing you further and further out of the center of the training floor.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Duncan Idaho stand up from his place. Thinking back to your last training session, you shudder bitterly. "Never fight in anger" is easy to say, when you're not forced to marry, bed and sunsequently give children to the man you're fighting. 

Panting and sweating, you give Feyd Rautha your all, twirling in place, sliding on your feet. A different kind of choreography, which seems to work surprisingly well, with his almost animalistic force. Gurney taught you how to be powerful, how to land strikes which were as effective, as they were cunning. Duncan, on the other hand, taught you how to dance. So that's what you do.

Finally, you manage to grab at his free hand, locking your feet between his and bringing him closer to your blade. It stops just short of his artery, blocked by his dagger, the clash of metal reverberating through the halls. 

The smirk he gives you is beyond nasty, and forcefully, you push away from him, as if the very idea of skin to skin contact repulsed you. And it does, it truly does, especially now that adrenaline mixed with frustration boils in your head. 

- Again - you snarl his way, assuming your fighting stance.

- As my Lady commands - his voice has a natural growl to it, made even more prominent by the exertion of the fight, and he twists his body into a perversion of a curtsy.

This time you're the one to attack first, ignoring your menthor's words and relying on pure rage to guide your steps. A stab to his thigh, which he deflects with seemingly childish ease. Your tunic slips through his fingers, as you slide under his arm. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his blade, when he hides it into his belt. Confusion hits you suddenly. Was he giving up, why was he hiding his weapon? None of the questions get answered, as a foot curls itself around your ankle.

Your balance leaves you with a gasp of surprise, and soon, your back is on the floor, Feyd Rautha following closely behind. Your heated gaze meets his, as one hand wrenches the blade from your grasp and pins both your arms above your head. The other one supports his weight, as he hovers above you, light bleeding behind him in an unfitting image of a halo. 

Your chest heaves, sweat rolling down your collarbones, and the Harkonnen doesn't even try to hide the way his gaze follows a stray drop of salt, as it disappears between your breasts. 

- You fought well - he complements in a hushed tone, and you writhe desperately under his body.

The night terror rears its ugly head again, as you feel his tighs press onto your sides, almost as if he wants to shape your flesh into the imprint of his body.

- I think I prefer you like this - he whispers, face coming closer to the exposed column of your neck - You belong under me. 

That's what does it. Your face twists into an expression of equal parts disgust, and fury. You won't give him this victory, you'd rather die. Legs tangle themselves around his calves, and you use all your strength fueled by the burning need to fucking hurt him. 

The world spins, two bodies rolling on the floor, and suddenly you're on top of him, legs biting into his hip bones. While one hand supports your weight on his naked shoulder, the other finds the dagger hidden in his belt. The surprised gasp, which leaves his lips feels like music to your ears, and you don't even try to fight the awful smirk splitting your mouth.

The shield on his neck glows an angry red, as you press the tip of the blade down, right under his bobbing Adam's apple. He swallows, for just a second letting you see the mask of self confidence slip. He has quite long eyelashes, you notice, as his eyelids flutter, a low hum reverbating through his chest. Eyes that are neither blue nor completely black drink in the sight of you. The halo of your hair, the snarl on your lips, the curve of your waist, where one of his hands settle. 

Missing all of this, too enraptured by your own fury, you push the blade further down until it pricks his alabaster skin. He hisses through his blackened teeth and you want more, you want him to scream. A thin streak of red begins to flow down his neck, and God help you, it looks like art. 

His grip on your waist tightens, all five fingers digging into your flesh through the thin tunic. Feyd Rautha bares his teeth at you in a cruel smile, one that makes you question whether you're the one in control.

And then his hips roll upwards. 

A barely noticable movement, easily mistaken for a spasm of the muscles, but you know better. You can read it all from his expression, his pupils blown wide, the quickened breaths of air slipping past his lips. From the quickly hardening length pressing against your inner thigh. 

Your stomach flutters with a well known feeling, and that terrifies you more than any pain-motivated erection ever could. Because he sees it, he sees the beginning flames of desire taking root in your center, and the realization looks like ecstasy on his face. Humiliation washes through you, fills you completely. There is no awkward blush on your face, no. All you feel is white, freezing terror, as all your defences seem to crumble all at once.

Like a scared animal, you're off of him in a split-second, and he doesn't chase you, as you all but run from the training barracks. Doesn't have to, he already has everything he needs. 

[bigwishes]

Caption Drop

Corey made his wish, he wanted to be huge, a massive muscular beast, he wanted men to be shocked when they say him naked. He thought he had coved all his bases when making his demands to the Djinn "I want to be huge, only muscle growth, i wanna have awesome abs, I want men Im about to sleep with be shocked when I take off my pants in front of them, I dont wanna lose any intelligence, I dont wanna be hairy, I just wanna be a hyper masculine muscle cow" The Djinn smiled granting his wish. Corey got the body of his dreams, unfortunately for him he did think about how he casually threw in being a muscle cow and moments after his muscled stopped inflating he felt a pain in his groin, watching his pants bulge outwards the zipper suddenly split open. Corey stared in shock, his balls had become the size of a beachball, his dick was gone now instead four dicks hung off the corner of his sack making it look like a giant udder.

"wh-WHAT DID YOU DO TO MM..MEEE....MOOOOOOOOOO"

"well you did say you wanted to be a big muscle cow" the Djinn laughed in response

"MOOOOOOOOO!!! MOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Corey yelled, the noise of a frustrated bull replacing his voice, but the Djinn was unable to understand him and so the desperate attempts to reverse the beastly part of his wish were simply ignored.

----------------------------

Kyle always wanted to be a competitive bodybuilder but he could never stick to the diet to cut down enough to go on stage, nor did he have the confidence. He had all the muscle, if only he could shift the bodyfat and think he was worthy of being on stage. Kyle made a simple wish "I wish I looked good enough for the stage, I wish I had the confidence to stand in front of all those guys"

Suddenly the clothes Kyle was wearing was replaced with a slutty harness, something snapped in his brain and all his nervous anxiety was replaced with cocky douchbag thoughts. Kyle was ready for the stage alright, not as a bodybuilder, but instead as a slutty horny man whore.

-------------------

Less than 5 minutes ago John was a much smaller twunk. He pumped into a guy at the gym, his sweat smeared across him. John called the guy a disgusting sweaty roid pig. The guy was ready to drop it but John continued to tell him how he'd never wanna be that big, he cracked a joke saying the man probably stunk like a locker room 24/7 because of how hard it would be to move his body. Suddenly two guys grabbed John's arms and the man he made fun of forced his jaw open and shoved what tasted like a small lemon lolly. John's body began to grow uncontrollably. Soon he was a giant freak. John stared at his new body, the body of a giant sweaty gorilla, his stench was worse than anything he had ever smelt before and the 3 bodybuilders who were pinning him down moments ago were now laughing at him and his awful stench in the corner of the locker room.

----------------------

[ellebakers]

☆ Beastly. (+18)

• Cregan Stark x Reader Targaryen.

Summary : Your mother sends you to Cregan Stark to make an alliance, and that's what you intend to do.

Warning(s) : SMUT, Language.

As Rhaenyra's eldest daughter, you were surprised when she asked you to fly north to create an alliance with Cregan Stark, you expected her to ask your brother Jacaerys to take care of it. That's why, before flying away, you turned one last time to your mother.

“Can I ask you something ?”

“Of course my dear.” Rhaenyra replied with a tender smile.

"Why me ? Why didn't you ask Jace to take care of it ?"

The queen smiled and gently grabbed your face "My dear, I have heard of Cregan, I have heard only good things about him as a warrior, a man and... a potential husband."

You raised your eyebrows "I was thinking of negotiating for a war alliance, not a marriage.." you snickered.

“Y/n, I know that you have heard of Cregan too, I also know that you confided to your servant that you wanted to be wed to him.”

Your mother says with a smile.

“I.. um..” You cleared your throat.

"I'm not asking you to marry him, but if you feel like it, know that you have my blessing."

You bowed “Thank you mother”

☆

After flying for what seemed like hours, you arrived at the Stark castle, a servant took you to the Throne room where Cregan sat, waiting for your arrival.

You couldn't help but notice his beauty, everything about him was attractive.

“My lord” You bowed to him.

Cregan stood up and with a smile bowed in turn. "Princess"

You smiled at him. ““Have you received the letter from my mother ?"

Cregan nodded "Sure, let's talk about it over a meal, you must be starving and freezing." He tells you with a seductive smile.

That evening, an alliance was signed between the Starks and the Targaryens, but not as you had imagined, since he had taken you on the meal table between the main course and the dessert, he had made you moan and arch your back more times than you can count.

☆

This is how, six months later, while the war between the Greens and the Blacks was knocking on the doors, you found yourself in Cregan's bed, a wedding ring in your hand, and this morning was the same as every morning for six months .

“Shit” You moaned, straddling Cregan’s face and gripping the headboard.

Cregan was moaning too as he tasted your juices, he gripped your hips as you moved your pelvis for more sensation, his tongue moving in and out as he sucked on your pussy.

"Do not stop" You cried in pleasure.“I’m going to cum.”

It only takes one movement of his tongue inside you and you cum on his tongue. "Oh my-"

He waited for you to come back from your hight to place you gently on the mattress.

"Good morning my love." he whispered as he kissed each of your breasts, taking your nipples into his mouth and sucking on them.

“Good Morning” you moaned.

“I want you” He whispered to you while pressing his hard member between your legs, making you moan. “I can tell.”

He smiled and placed his member at your entrance, he kissed you and with a single movement he penetrated you, making you both moan.

“Still so tight” he moaned as his pelvis movements became faster and harder.

You arched your back and moaned, “That feels good.”

He withdrew completely and turned you onto your stomach, you leaned on your elbows and he penetrated you again, moaning.

“Like that” you moaned, getting wetter and wetter.

His thrusts grew harder as he let out beast moans.

This is how you love your lord, beastly

He grabbed your hair and pulled lightly, making you moan louder. “Cregan, I’m going to-”

“I know, me too” He moaned and soon you felt something hot running down your thighs as he buried himself inside you to leave his seed there.

You gripped the sheets and hid your cries of pleasure in the pillow. He sighed in pleasure as he pulled out of you and gently roll you on your back, letting his head rest on your chest.

"I can't wait to see a baby grow inside of you" He whispered as he caress your belly with his fingertips.

You chuckled and caress his soft hair "Someone's eager to be a father ?" you teased.

He smiled and pressed his lips to your stomach “You have no idea.”

You smiled softly and whispered "I love you."

He smiled back and whispered "I love you too."

.

Author's note : I know Cregan has been cast but i remain in denial and i want Leo in this role even if Tom is gonna be a great Cregan.

[stopthatfool]

Consistently shocked by the idea that people think Bradley Rooster Bradshaw is chill and laid back. He’s actually shockingly unchill. He is the opposite of chill. He did not inherent any of his parents chillness. He’s a loser who’s too invested in everything.

Like ya hi I’m Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw and I cut off my remaining family, surrogate father, and support system for 15 years cuz he pulled my naval academy papers because he didn’t want me to die like my biological father and because my mother wanted me to be free of the navy’s confinements and to exist outside of a system that physically uses me for their own power and political gains— gains I will never experience and feel for myself. A system that sees me as no more than a number, a soldier, something easily replaceable, as a body to be sacrificed in a war that i did not start nor will i finish.

“Bradley's chill.” No he’s not. He’s a beast. He’s a 30 something year old man whose entire purpose revolves around holding a grudge and proving his surrogate father wrong. This beast who literally said this to his surrogate father— "No wife. No kids. Nobody to mourn when you burn in." Beastly. Ghastly thing to say. 15 years and he still hates the guy who's been there for him since day one. He’s a guy who refuses to even begin to understand where Mav was coming from or to even think of what his mother wanted. He’s evil. And I love him.

Hi I’m Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw and when someone brings up a well known, easily accessible fact that my father and surrogate father used to fly together I will try to cause physical harm against them and my friends will have to physically hold me back. I’m Bradley Bradshaw and I was willing to put my entire career on the line (the one in which I put my family aside for) so I can attack and beat this guy up.

I love his big ol’ Bambi eyes… he’s evil and fucked up and he’s not chill. Yes he wears jorts and tropical shirts, but that just means he’s gay and a fucking liar. Just cuz he looks like some surfer dude does not mean that he’s actually laid back like one. He’s lying to himself— trying to convince himself he is something that he is not and never will be. He is unchill. He’s lame. He has undiagnosed anxiety and it physically expresses itself through anger and loserly-ness. He cares so much to the point of self sabotage. He will always be unchill, no matter how much he tries to change that fact.

Y’all ever want to cradle a grown man in your arms? (graphic design is my passion)

[crestapex]

“Simon!! I made some fo-“

Simon:

I just saw this piece of art by @temeyes. And just like the infamous Grug once said, “I have an idea!” Like, you don’t even know how quick I was to write this.💀 (I’d also like to imagine this as the aftermath after of my other post regarding big boy Simon.) (It also gets slightly, like the smallest amount ever, suggestive towards the end.)

Summary; SFW/SS—(0.9K Words): Simon is quick to disappear after a big dinner, so you set out on the search for him. Seriously, you live in a one story apartment, so how do you even manage to lose a man his size?

You cross your arms, humming to yourself as you steadily tap your foot on the living room’s hardwood flooring. Your eyes continue to scan everything, from the couch to behind the couch, again and again. You could’ve sworn Simon was right here, in this very flat, all but a few minutes ago—though it feels like you’ve been searching for that man for hours. It’s not like you heard the front door open and close, and it’s not like you heard the back door leading to the balcony open and close either. So where in the bloody hell could he be?

You huff in frustration, your arms dropping to your sides. And so you’re back on the move, trudging off down the narrow hallway. Maybe you should check in the office? Or maybe he would magically appear in the bedroom, probably having decided to nap the rest of the afternoon away? Or maybe you should try calling his name?… Wait, didn’t you already do all that?…

Ugh. And all you wanted to do was curl up on the couch and watch a movie with him. Perhaps spend the rest of the night indulging in some sweets you had just waiting to be eaten. Yet, here you are, searching for this beast of a man. Like a needle in a haystack, strangely enough. And true to the whole ‘Ghost’ persona, you supposed.

You brought your fingers up to the bridge of your nose as you passed the kitchen for the second time in a row. You closed your eyes, only for a split second to take a deep breath in. “Okay, Simon. Riley. Where the hell are you-”

Thud!

And another breath—well, gasp would be more like it—out as your foot proceeded to collide with something so firm, yet so soft.

Your hands went up quicker than the speed of light, one firmly planting itself on the wall and the other grasping for dear life onto the doorway. The doorway of the bathroom you would soon learn. The one fucking place you forgot to check.

But the sounds of hard thudding from your hands being slammed against the thick walls was also accompanied by a fairly familiar sound. The sound of a low growl, a grunt and some deep, incomprehensible mumbles. You would’ve assumed you accidentally hit a bear if you weren’t familiar with those sounds, honestly. Well, he may not be a bear, but he was nearly the size of one. So, close enough?

“Jesus Christ, Simon!” You shouted, moving your head downwards to finally come face to face with your ghostly lover. You steadied your stance, lifting your hands up and off the wall. You could only watch as he slightly curled up from the rather heavy hit he just took to his poor gut, but just for a second. Whoops. “…Seriously? This is where you’ve been?”

Simon groaned, obviously not being too happy with his little snooze being so aggressively interrupted. “Bloody hell, love. Are ‘ya tryin’ to mess up another rib?” Despite his obvious annoyance, you couldn’t help but be a little amused, especially with seeing him in such a vulnerable state.

There the beastly man lies, his shirt up to his chest, leaving just the very lower half of his pecks exposed. His large body planted firmly on the bathroom tiles, with any skin and flesh below the lower half of his stomach jutting out from the bathroom doorway. The vast majority of his belly rested firmly on the tiles, most definitely relishing in the refreshing coolness emitting from the bathroom floor. His muscular arms stay splayed out above his shoulders and head, his chin resting lazily on his tattooed forearm. And his eyes firmly held shut. Wow, what an absolute sight to behold.

Okay, so maybe you couldn’t help but feel slightly bad. Even though he was the one in the way and almost messed you up.

“Well, I’m sorry to interrupt your hibernation, but I just had a question for you.” You crossed your arms and raised a brow, a smile beginning to form on your face. You couldn’t help but snort and snicker, “You look like a walrus, by the way,” you threw in, still taking in the sight of a truly comfortable Simon in his natural habitat.

“Hm?” He hummed, moving his head to the side to rest on his forearm. Opening one eye just enough to where he could see you. Your eyes crinkled at the sight, as no matter how relaxed he looked, there would always be a hint of that signature Simon Riley grumpiness permanently etched on his brows.

You put your hands on your hips, continuing to look down at your beloved, “Anyways, I was just going to ask if you wanted to move to somewhere more comfortable, like the couch, and watch a movie with me.” You began to kneel down to his level, resting an arm on your thigh and bringing the other to rest on the side of Simon’s tummy, giving him a few light pats, “There’s also dessert waiting if you think you can fit anything else in there.” You just couldn’t stop yourself from lightly chuckling as you began to soothingly run your nails down his side.

A deep, chesty rumble was soon emitted from Simon in response, the sound of pure satisfaction you’ve come to learn. You watched with a raised brow as he began to leisurely flip himself over and onto his back. He then brought his arms down from above his head, one hand moving to rest on his chest and the other placing itself firmly on your thigh.

“Mm’. Dessert, yeah?… Is it you?” He lowly chuckled, licking the very edge of his lips as his eyes narrowed with anticipation. His large hand beginning to gently caress the area. Cheeky bastard.

[exhaslo]

Have you ever tried writing yandere!beast!miguel x chubby!female reader? I'd imagine it'd go something like beauty and the beast.

Your work is amazing!

Ohhhhhhhhhh, the IDEAS THIS IS GIVING ME IS UNHEALTHY!!! BUT LET'S FUCKING GO!!!

I'll do this one as fluff, but DON'T GET ME STARTED ON THE SMUT I'M ALREADY THINKING OFF OHHHHHHHHHOHOHOHOH BOY.

Warning: Fluff, Possessive

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The city of Nueva York hid many dark secrets. There was always something new in every corner. One could live in the city all their life and still not know what dark, hidden truths that were scattered throughout the city that never sleeps.

But, the rumors spread.

You couldn't keep track of everything you've heard. You've only just moved into the city and it felt overwhelming. City life was nothing compared to the movies.

"Did you hear about Alchemax's CEO? He has locked himself in his mansion."

"Again? But...does it matter since the company is always booming?"

You couldn't help but overhear the chatter on the train. Funny enough, you had started working at Alchemax. You had heard a thing or two about your CEO, but never once met him. Funny enough, it was always the rumors you hear first.

But, it mattered not to you. It wasn't like you were ever going to meet the man.

-------------

"Sir, could you please tell me again why I have to be the one to drop off these packages? Wouldn't Mr. O'Hara's assistant be a better fit?" You asked nervously.

"Funny enough, his close staff went on vacation. Besides, you would be in and out. He won't pay mind to you."

Why? Because you were chubby? This wasn't the first time you've heard a backhanded comment like that. It urked you. You came to the city for equal opportunity, but everyone only saw your weight.

"Good luck."

"Wait, how will I-" You gasped as your supervisor left you.

Oh, how you were ready to file a complaint to HR. You were left alone in front of your CEO's mansion with no way back home. You were abandon and you hated it.

Taking a deep breathe, you approached the main door and rang the door bell. The paperwork in your arms nearly crushed by your own frustration. Waiting for the door to open only angered you more. You huffed and kicked the door slightly, gasping as it opened.

Cussing quietly, you slowly entered the mansion. It was dark. A shiver ran down your spine as you looked for a desk, table, anything solid to place the file down.

"Um, excuse me. Sorry for the intrusion, but I have some paperwork from Alchemax, sir."

--------

Miguel let out a low growl as he laid in his bed. This beastly form giving him very little motivation to do much of anything. His glare shifted from his phone to the door as he heard the doorbell. Another poor soul has come to give him his paperwork.

Ready to scare the fool away, Miguel rose from his bed. His feet dragged with each step, causing an echo throughout the mansion. His low growls and hisses, giving him an eerie effect.

"Um, I-I'm just...going to drop this off....here." You stuttered.

Miguel's eyes light up as he heard your voice. Stopping his scary demeanor, he poked his head from the corner wall. There you were, shaking as you looked around his mansion. Miguel's breathing shuddered as he felt a fire lit inside of him.

"Wait," He called out, "Who are you? You're not the usual sender."

"Oh, um, hello, sir. I'm (Y/N) from marketing! I was asked to drop off from files for your approval since the usual sender was ill today." Your voice was so sweet.

"Ah, well I didn't mean to startle you. Please, help yourself to the room on the right. I should have some water in the fridge."

"Ah, thank you, sir."

Miguel withheld a breathe as he watched you walk into the room. Your hips swaying and curves calling out for him. How perfect of a treat you were. The only question was, would you be frighten by his form?

---------

You cooed softly as you drank a bottled water. Sure, this place was creepy as hell, but finally hearing a reassuring voice calmed you. Yes, you were surprised by the sudden voice, but who would have thought that the CEO sounded so charming.

"Ah, I don't wanna go back to work now." You whined quietly.

"Then don't,"

You gasped, jumping in place from the voice behind you. Catching your water before you dropped it, you sighed heavily. How could someone be so quiet? Turning to confront your CEO, you froze at the sheer height of him.

"Someone as cute as you shouldn't be working so hard." Miguel spoke, slowly approaching you.

"Cu-" You were at a loss for words.

For one, your CEO was a giant beast standing before you. Second, he called you cute. This was a first.

"Are you scared of me?" Miguel asked, stepping into the light. Your jaw dropped,

"I'm...more surprised," You whispered, staring at the tall beast, "I'm wondering if I'm even dreaming."

"You aren't. I won't hurt you either."

You were hesitant to his words. Who wouldn't be? You were surprised by how calm you were actually. This was your CEO in front of you. You've seen pictures of him, but never like this. It was strange, but you felt almost at ease.

"You would've by now," You said with a soft chuckle, "Um, if you don't mind me asking...How-"

"I do mind," Miguel hummed, his eyes sparkling brighter, "Would you take my proposal and work for me instead? I could use the help."

"Um-"

--------

It didn't take much to convince you at all. Miguel enjoyed how obedient you were. Miguel enjoyed your presence. You were kind to him. You were normal to him. You belonged to him.

Miguel made sure that you stayed by his side. He gave you a room in his mansion and kept you close at all times. You were oh so helpful to him in more ways than one. Miguel never thought that he'd have such feelings towards someone.

But you were special.

"(Y/n), come here." Miguel hummed, watching you hurry towards him.

His grin grew as you 'accidently' tripped and landed against his big, fuzzy chest. His arms wrapped around your thick waist, humming in delight as he held your thighs. You squeaked, but didn't complain as you fixed yourself on his lap.

"Sorry, Miguel!" You apologized. Miguel kept his smile,

"Quite alright." Oh, how he loved holding you, "Did you need something?"

"I must have forgotten. Holding such a beauty seemed to have distracted me."

Your face flustered as you looked away from Miguel. Ah, that look was so adorable. Miguel loved keeping you all to himself. Stroking your cheek with his claws, Miguel brought your attention back to him. Oh, how you belonged to him.

"Oh! Before I forget, you received a letter. It seems like you're needed back at Alchemax. Shall I go and inform-"

"No!" Miguel hissed, holding you closer, "You aren't allowed to leave! You are staying here, with me!"

-------

You felt your heart racing a mile a minute as Miguel held you so firmly. Despite being a beast, you were enjoying this warm embrace. Miguel treated you so kindly. Yes, you didn't get to go outside, but you didn't mind.

"Okay, I won't go," You whispered, calming Miguel down.

It was strange. Some might say that you were being held hostage by a savage beast. Some would say that you were insane. You could not deny those claims, but you didn't care since Miguel cared for you. He didn't mind your body and he gave you such sweet compliments.

"Shall I make you your favorite meal?" You asked sweetly. Miguel exhaled and buried his head in the crook of your neck, his hands still holding your waist,

"In a moment."

A shiver ran down your spine as Miguel spoke in your ear. How strange would it be to want to kiss him? You had seen his human form, you knew that he was human underneath the beast...But you still wanted to kiss him even as so.

How strange would it truly be?

To kiss a beast?

---------

It had been a couple of months since you've stayed at Miguel's mansion, helping him. You had grown feelings for him and wondered how strange it would be to act on them? Miguel was currently a beast, not human.

Hearing the sound of loud typing, you made your way to Miguel's office. You smiled as you watched the tall beast working diligently. It was funny since he was a CEO but hasn't stepped foot in his building.

"(Y/N), come in." Miguel chuckled. You smiled brightly, hurrying to his side,

"How'd you know it was me?" You teased. Miguel glanced down at you, easily picking you up and placing you on his lap, "Miguel! I'm heavy!"

"You're not," He hummed, nuzzling your neck, "You're perfect just the way you are."

"Hehe, Miguel, you're too kind." You cooed, feeling your heart race from glee, "Miguel?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you," You chirped and pecked his cheek, "Is it okay for me to like you?"

--------

Miguel felt a rising heat from within. He hid his smile as he turned your head, chuckling at your cuteness. How delicious this was. You were right in his claws. You belonged to Miguel and no one else. You were never going to leave his side.

"It should be the other way around."

Miguel chuckled darkly as he brought you in for a kiss. Your body trembling under his touch as his tongue ravished your mouth. You smelled so sweet and you were all his. Swirling his tongue inside your mouth, Miguel hummed towards how sweet you taste.

"You're mine forever, (Y/N)"

Mine and no one else.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed!!!!!

[shadowdaddies]

Could you do the classic (in my opinion lol) “if I catch you, I fuck you scenario” with Rhys in Hewn city? I just know this man would have the time of his life teasing and chasing you through the halls.

it’s a classic for a reason 😎 I like the idea of doing this with Rhys bc he would make it interesting with his daemati abilities. This was fun to write, thank you anon

Hide and Seek

Rhys x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, predator/prey, light bondage, rough sex, minors dni or I'll send Bryaxis to live under your bed

You took a deep breath to try to settle your nerves as you set off down the avenue. You and Rhys had a bet: he gave you a ten minute head start once you arrived in Hewn City, and then he had ten minutes to find you. If Rhys found you within the ten minutes, he’d fuck you wherever he found you. 

You were running through the dark walkways as you scanned for any place to hide. With the silver bobbing faelights reflecting against the dark stone of the mountain, it was proving difficult to find a place in the open that you wouldn’t be easily seen. You snuck into the castle, pausing for a moment at the doors to the throne room. No, that would be too obvious. You continued on, becoming breathless and disoriented as you took in the dark artworks of beasts surrounding you. You stopped at the intersection of two hallways, trying to determine if the statue of the great, scaled black beast would be an adequate hiding spot. You turned around; which direction had you just come from? 

“Darling, your ten minutes are up. The hunt begins now,” Rhys’s voice purred in your mind. You panicked, questioning everything as you ran down the nearest hallway. What were you thinking, going into his own castle to hide from him? You opened the first set of doors you found, and quietly slipped into the room. You immediately realized you were in the council chambers. With the exception of the same beastly pillars from the castle halls and the large blacked-out glass table in the center of the room, there was no place to hide. Rhys’s voiced again echoed in your mind, “I can scent you, my love. Have you been lurking around our castle?” 

There was no option to go back into the hallways now, where Rhys would surely find you. You decided your best bet would be to hide under the table, where your reflection was at least hidden, and wait him out. “Not in the throne room, I see. What a shame, you do know how I love to take you on the dais,” Rhys taunted as he flashed memories in your mind of him fucking you on the floor, over the throne, against the pillars; you watching your reflection in the obsidian walls of the room. A shiver made its way up your spine as you were overcome with a wave of arousal. 

You heard slow, measured footsteps nearing the doors of the chambers, too close for your liking. Before you could devise an escape plan, however, the room went black. You suddenly felt like you were floating, suspended among the stars. You basked in the peacefulness of the sensation for a moment, until you felt hands grab around your ankles and pull. You screamed as your surroundings came back into focus. You were back on the floor of the council chambers, Rhys on his hands and knees above you, caging you in as he gave you a feline smirk of amusement. “Five minutes and twelve seconds, darling,” he said as he leaned down to kiss you. 

The kiss was surprisingly gentle, Rhys slowly massaging your tongue with his own as he poured love down the bond to you. You moaned and arched into his touch, causing a smile to form on his lips. He sat up, pulling you with him by your waist as he stood in front of the table and sat you down atop it. He stepped back to assess you, a predator sizing up his captured prey. You squirmed under his powerful stare, anticipation building in your core at what was to come. 

With a flourish of his hand, you were completely bare before him, to cold air of the room causing you to shiver, and you felt your warm arousal seep onto the table between your legs. Rhys noticed it too, locking in on your center with a feral intensity. He swallowed, licking his lips as he removed the belt from his pants. “Your wrists, darling,” Rhys purred at you, nodding his head towards your hands that were resting against the table. You lifted them up together for him, knowing what was coming next. He wrapped his belt around your wrists, securing them snugly together before lifting them above your head. “Keep these up here while I enjoy my reward, love,” he whispered as his eyes roved over your exposed body once more. 

He laid you back against the table, pulling you forward to where your legs were hanging over the edge. Rhys ran his hands in teasing circles up your legs, getting close to your center before dragging them away and further up your body, earning a frustrated huff from you. He chuckled, enjoying your obvious need for him. He continued roaming over your body with his fingertips, pausing to flick each of your nipples harshly as you moaned, desperate for more of his touch. Rhys continued to admire your body, kissing and sucking to leave marks all over your torso. You were writhing underneath him, dripping all over the table when you snapped, “gods, please just fuck me Rhys!” 

Rhys promptly stood up, arching an eyebrow at you with an expression of pure amusement. “Impatient, are we love? The fifteen minutes it took me to get to you was too much?” he cooed with fake sympathy as he towered over your form. “I won’t be gentle, darling,” he said, looking in your eyes as one hand idly stroked your hip. You found yourself feeling overheated despite the frigid temperature in the room, begging, “I don’t want gentle. I need you now, Rhys.”

“Well, who am I to deny my High Lady of her requests?” Rhys hummed as his clothes disappeared. He wasted no time lining himself up at your entrance. “Fuck, you’re dripping for me,” he  growled, swiping his free hand under his length to swipe your excess arousal from the table and sucking it into his mouth. He moaned at the taste of you, and something snapped inside of him. He moved both of his hands to your hips and pushed himself fully into you, immediately starting to pound at a relentless pace. The sounds of your collective moans and skin against skin echoed through the stone of the castle. “Fuck, harder Rhys,” you whined, wanting to have him as deep inside of you as possible. Wanting to be consumed by him. He grunted, flipping you over on your stomach so you were bent over the table, his hand wrapping your hair around one fist while he brought the other down to rub your clit. You reached your orgasm almost immediately as you screamed his name, clenching around his cock as he continued pounding into you. 

After a few moments, Rhys ground out that he was close to finishing. You felt him twitch inside of you just as the glass table cracked beneath you and split in two. Rhys quickly hauled you up by your chest before you could fall, slipping out of you as  his release spilled over your back. You both stood in silent shock for a moment before you turned to look at Rhys, and both of you burst out laughing. 

Running a hand through his hair and chuckling, Rhys consoled, “well, that table was older than I am. I guess it’s time we redecorated.” You gave him a mischievous smile as you leaned up to kiss his cheek and said, “maybe something more sturdy to fuck on next time.”

[homunculus-argument]

I found a collection of clipped images of vintage ads, and let me tell you these are hilarious with no context.

Dude on the left doesn't give a shit about what you think of him. "Whatever, I'm still going to drink my coffee with my breakfast ass-pastries." Dude on the right is offended. "Really? Right in front of my heroin?"

All your mental health troubles can be cured by having a talk with the drunk girl sitting on the floor of a dive bar bathroom. Like the modern oracle, she dispels wisdom.

Do not cut off your nose to spite your face! Let us do it for you! Experience the highest end quality of plastic surgery that the 1930s technology can offer! If the war didn't blow your nose off, we can make it look like it sure did!

Are you too refined, sophisticated and dapper? Would you rather have the rough and manly, beastly airs of the salt trade sailor you sucked off behind the town market three days ago while he called you his pretty little slut? Our doctors can help you.

This is also a good way to get not only your nose, but your entire face professionally fucked up.

Trust me bro this is a different strain. It won't happen again this time bro trust me I swear.

Dude if she gives you that look you better zip it back up before she figures out how to politely tell you how disappointed she is. She came here for the thrill of her life and that's not it.

Nevermind, she was too polite to break it to you.

Live footage of the last coherent thought escaping my brain when my meds wear off.

Have you lived your entire life woefully lacking of dandruff? Fear not, for relief is here! Finally, you can have the same alluring scalp snow as the heinous bitch your husband left you for.

FALSE! I literally never shut the fuck up.

The money-eating giraffe will fuck you. That is a promise.

Successfully fucked by the giraffe, evidently.

Another satisfied customer. He won't even mind that the beast ate all his money.

This poor guy just missed the giraffe. By a thread. He was out of town already when this poor man got the news. His entire year is ruined.

Do you crave the chaotic rush of a manic outburst, but do not have the inherent mechanisms of naturally mania-inducing mental illness? Try AMPHETAMINE! You will be full of ideas, and know for sure what you're going to be doing for the next three months! Disclaimer: The ideas you will have on amphetamine are not guaranteed to be good ideas. And you're probably spending the next three months in jail.

You know you're sick you dirty little bowlcut slut.

"Fuck. This. Shit."

This one came in-built with a weirder fucking caption than I could come up with. Nothing can top this. Not even the giraffe.