#muses 2

[islandofmuses]

Muses (Update)

I'm adding some muses and since I don't want a huge page, I'm making this one

Name : Kevin Yang (he/him) fc: Harry Shum Jr. Age: 41 Occupation : Surgeon Kevin is : Friendly, out going, sassy, a little to blunt at times, very focused on his work. Loves what he does for a living.

Name: Luka Jones (He/Him) Fc: Enver Gjokaj Age : 43 Occupation : Pub ower Luka is : Very outgoing, friendly, a flirt, goofy, a bit too full of himself.

Name : Jordan Rush FC: Sarah Michelle Geller Age: 46 Occupation : Cold case detective Jordan is : She has a bit of a bitter outtake on life, she's usally nice but she doesn't like to show her feelings, she does care about a lot her loved ones, Jordan is married to her job

[blood-starved-beast]

love how all the Nyx kids we know are losers. They're all some flavor of dork and all are vaguely pathetic.

Except for Charon. Dude is living the High life swimming in dough and even got a boyfriend locked in. So much rizz that even Aphrodite is noticing. King shit.

[pinkravat-art]

messy gomen

[thiscoldheart]

THE BEAR (2.09)

[maaikeatthefullmoon]

I’m sorry but, to me, this

does not look like an angel with no plan and no ulterior motive.

And, I think Crowley knows that. And Aziraphale knows he knows. Because they’ve known each other for aeons. Because Crowley knows his different tones of voice. Because they trust each other.

This is the face of a determined angel. And this is the face of a demon who’s still there with him.

He’s not happy about it, but he’s still there.

If he’d given up on them (on Us), he would’ve left. It’s what he’s always done before: Crowley’s been the one to turn & leave. He wouldn’t have watched Aziraphale leave if he didn’t still believe in him, in their history & their trust. He stayed.

[nordarknessdimsthesky]

the amount of sheer GENDER stored in these images should frankly be ILLEGAL

[lafamilledelioncourt]

The heartbreaking thing about a lot of viewers who haven't consumed the books is they don't completely see is WHY Lestat is near sobbing when he asks "Did you hurt yourself?"

Yes, for general reasons like he loves him and what not. But, don't forget, he also said, "I gave you to Armand. You tell me if that is saving."

In TVL, you get ALOT more of the Lestat/Nicky relationship. You see them bond, fall in love, and then Lestat have to contend with that love once he's kidnapped and turned.

Nicky does not take the vampirism very well. Nicky is a very desolate sort of character. Religious trauma to the max, and then throw in family trauma, gay repression, and then vampirism.

When Lestat leaves Paris with Gabrielle in TVL, he essentially leaves Nicky with Armand. He entrusts him into his care in a way, and Nicky chooses the fire. He can't endure as they call it. Naturally, it breaks Lestat's heart.

One of Armand's jobs as coven leader was to cull weak vampires who can't survive on their own or endure. So there is definitely room for S3 for them to show Armand pushing for Nicky to accept the flame.

With Louis, Lestat doesn't fight back in Paris and lets Louis go with Armand. Once again, he's entrusting someone he loves to Armand. Even if it's very much unwilling, but I'll give it to him for once for respecting a choice.

When Armand calls out to him in San Francisco, it's Lestat's worst nightmare. Louis is hurt, Lestat can't get to him. Armand either has allowed him to be hurt, hurt him himself, or did not protect him as Lestat wants him protected.

It is heavily implied Lestat thinks Louis died in San Francisco. In the books, Armand tells both of them the other died to keep them apart. Once again, the person Lestat loves is dead because of Armand.

Lestat, in his mind, has ultimately failed Louis, and so he falls apart as we see him do in 2x08. When Louis shows up, he cannot believe he's there initially. It's very clear he's only half there mentally. He has to ask him if it was all real and if he'd really been hurt because he has to know if it is really Louis. It's a question you'd ask the ghost of the person you love, but Louis CAN answer him.

Needless to say, please read the books if you're up for it. They are a riot.

[rueyam]

lena khalaf tuffaha, ‚running orders‘

[hinamie]

binding vow

[theravenmuse]

Circled is:

1. Azi’s Bookshop

2. The Dirty Donkey, where Crowley went to plan his holy water heist in 1967

“I work in Soho. I hear things. Especially when they’re being planned in the pub that’s just ONE SHOP AWAY FROM WHERE I LIVE, CROWLEY!”

Azi probably saw the Bentley parked on the street through his shop window. 🤣

[blood-starved-beast]

Something that isn't talked enough about (granted it's been less than a week) is how much of Hades himself is in Mel.

Yeah she's meticulous, overtly serious, and a hardworker. Contrast that with her brother and all that. But what gets me a lot is how much she sounds like Hades too. She uses swears - things like "get out of my blasted way" or "Silence!" to end conversations she doesn't like. She can be and often is hostile when she's in the middle of her work, which she prioritizes over everything else. She gets called a bore for it. She is a hard ass and is very self-righteous. I love that a lot about her. It's fun when you see people inherit aspects of personality traits from their parents even when they've never learned it directly from them.

[dramastream]

HAN HYO JOO as BIG KNIFE Believer 2 (2023) dir. Baek Jong Yeol

[salted-fox-musings]

Slams back another mug of coffee. Ghosts that constantly check on their newly risen partners constantly because:

1: Holy shit they actually found their guardian and they cannot contain themselves. 2: Holy shit there is a lot more that goes into keeping one of these fuckers alive than you'd think.

[thiscoldheart]

JEREMY ALLEN WHITE as Carmy Berzatto

THE BEAR (SEASON 2)

[2cvri0vs4u]

Welcome to my muse tab! This is where you get aquainted with my Muse! Keep an Optic/Eye out for updates because chances are I might update this with more info.

[ Last Updated: 10/10/22 ]

transformers continuity ; idw 2005

gender ; mech

age ; 6,000,000 years old

relationships ; tba (Cyclonus, Canon)

offsprings ; tba

creators ; none

likes ; bots, cyclonus, whirl

dislikes ; mean bots, being alone, abuse

backstory ; tba

aus ; shattered glass

main? ; yes

[lady-phasma]

Don't look away

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x F!Reader

Stand alone, cross posted on AO3, app 2,800 words

Warning: 18+, NSFW, others I should add but it's Feyd

Summary: Feyd lives rent free in my head now. I’m working on an unrelated piece with an ofc but I wanted to share a pwp because this man is essentially walking and talking sex. Enjoy. Please ignore typos. This was a rush job LoL

my gif

You hold your breath as Feyd-Rautha circles you, appraising. His head is tilted down and he looks at you from under his brows. Your chest is tight. He is almost exactly what you expected after watching him in the arena. Yet, not quite. He steps in front of you.

“She’s acceptable,” he says to the Reverend Mother without looking away from you. You begin to slowly exhale. His eyes slide down to your parted lips. He slowly licks his.

“Leave us,” he growls and the Reverend Mother, the younger Bene Gesserit sister, and his Harpies slip out of the room. You glance over your shoulder as the door slides closed behind them.

“No,” he whispers as he turns your head back toward him, guiding you with his hand on your chin. His blue eyes flick from your eyes to your mouth then back again. As he smiles, you see the tips of his blackened teeth for the first time and catch yourself staring.

“‘No’, my lord na-Baron?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He is standing close enough to hear you regardless. He nods once and drops his hand from your chin, grazing the backs of his fingers down your neck. He impertinently flicks the hood of your cloak off your head before dropping his hand to his side.

“You won’t look away from me. You will watch everything I do. No looking away, no closing your eyes.”

You swallow and attempt to nod but you feel like you cannot move. You want to move. You almost want to run for the door but you can imagine Feyd blocking your path with speed and stealth. You look at his mouth again, the lips curling, black teeth catching the light, and his tongue…

Feyd’s grip on your upper arm snaps your attention back. He undoes the clasp at your neck and slips the cloak off your shoulders, tossing it on the floor. You feel the goosebumps spread up your arms as the cool air of the room hits them. You are suddenly aware of the low neckline of your dress as you inhale. Your cleavage swells and you feel exposed, like prey out of cover.

He licks his lips, slowly. You fight conflicting urges to stare and to look away. You let your gaze travel up to his eyes. He isn’t looking at your face. He is stalking around you again, this time stoping behind you.

His hands are cool on your upper back and you shiver. Feyd makes a sound in response, a satisfied groan that is so low that you think you may have not heard it at all. His hands slip under your dress and are no longer gentle. He rips your dress down the back along the seam. He slings the shoulders of the dress down and you feel him step closer.

Feyd licks your neck, slowly, from the top of your shoulder to your ear. You bite the tip of your tongue to hold back a moan. You don’t want to like this, you don’t want to want him, but your nipples are hard and your body is a furnace.

“Let it out,” he growls in your ear, lips brushing against the lobe. “I want to hear you.”

You do. The sound comes out as a sigh and a moan. His reaction adds fuel to the fire in your core. Feyd growls next to your ear. His exhale tickles your cheek and you shiver again. Then you feel the fabric of his shirt press against your exposed back. Longing rolls over you as you realize you don’t want his shirt against your skin. You let the smallest groan escape your lips, a whining sound.

Feyd leans down and drags his lips over your shoulder. You almost relax into the feeling until you feel the pain as he bites down into the muscle. You gasp. It surprises you more than it hurts you. He releases his hold on you but his mouth stays against your skin.

Almost as unexpected as the bite, you feel the weight of his smooth head rest against your neck. He leans his weight in the crook of your neck and sighs. His hot breath makes you ache. His teeth are still grazing your shoulder. You want to relax into this feeling but he is too unpredictable.

Your mind races in an attempt to understand this man, to glean some insight. His sighs and groans make your core hot and tight. But the press of his teeth against your skin conflict with the gentleness of the press of his head against you. You can’t sort your thoughts and you can’t focus.

Suddenly, Feyd grunts and pushes away from you. Before you can decide to turn to look at him, he pulls your dress all the way off your arms and pushes it down your hips, leaving it in a puddle around your feet. You can’t think straight. You instinctively cross your arms over your breasts but it’s a fruitless action. He is behind you and you cannot cover the lower half of your body. You aren’t sure but you think the whimper you make is too quiet for him to hear.

“Stay,” Feyd growls. You do. You don’t move. You stare straight ahead at the wall opposite you and focus all your attention on listening, trying to decode the sounds Feyd is making behind you.

You hear cloth moving, one light thud, followed by another, then more cloth. Then you hear what is unmistakably bare feet on the stone floor. Then you feel him, not pressed against you (yet), but just behind you. He is still taller than you and though you cannot see him he feels like a monolith, looming and intimidating.

Feyd doesn’t speak as he runs his hands over your shoulders and down your biceps. He presses your arms against your sides and you acquiesce. Then his large hands cup your breasts as he steps forward into you, pressing the length of your bodies together. You feel lightheaded and sag slightly against him.

“Yes,” he hisses and somehow you can hear the smile in his voice. “Yes, my pet, that’s it.” His hands slide down the rises and hollows of your belly and hips. There is too much stimulus for you to focus on any one thing. The cool heat of his palms against your skin, the silkiness of his chest against your back, and the press of his erection against the curve of your buttocks.

This bliss is fleeting and you remind yourself of who he is, what you have seen him do. But the images of the arena can’t push the feeling of him on your skin out of your mind. You are almost powerless in his hands.

He guides you to turn and face him. You look up at him and involuntarily lick and bite your lower lip. For the first time you see hunger in his eyes. His head dips down and you fight the instinct to close your eyes as his lips press against yours. Not until you see his eyes close do you do the same. His mouth is bittersweet and gentle at first. Then his teeth nip and pull at your lip, his tongue pushes into your mouth, and he growls. You can’t stop yourself from pressing against his chest. Your hands find his arms as you try to get closer to him. As you pull him toward you the taste of blood crosses your tongue.

Feyd pulls his mouth back and you open your eyes immediately. The red on his lower lip is a stark line against the white skin. He slowly drags his finger across it. He gazes at the red on his fingertip as if he has never seen anything so entrancing before. Then he presses his finger against your lip and you pull the tip into your mouth. He moves before you can understand what is happening. His hand is in your hair, wrenching your head back. His other arm encircles your waste and he looks down at you, black teeth glinting in the pale light of the room.

His sneer is terrifying. Your fingernails dig into the flesh of his arms as you grip him. You don’t push him away; you can’t move. His eyes dart around your face searching for something. For defiance? He finds none and his mouth crashes against yours in a rough kiss that is mostly teeth and breath.

Something inside you gives way and you claw desperately at his arms. You kiss him back, finding his tongue with yours, inviting him into your mouth. His body is warm stone in your arms. You search for purchase, some place to anchor yourself, his chest, his arms, his neck. Then you push your hips forward, almost without thinking. His cock presses against your belly and he growls again. That sound draws wetness from between your legs and you moan back into his mouth. His hand begins to loosen its grip on your hair and you feel him smile against your lips. When you look at him you see it isn’t a kind smile.

“So that’s what you want, pet?” His smile is mocking, almost cruel. His voice is low and deep. His hand slides out of your hair to the side of your face. He caresses your cheek with his palm and rubs his thumb across your lips, lulling you with his touch.

“You want me to fuck you now?” Your response is the most undignified whimper. You are surprised by the desperation in the sound. As he straightens up to his full height you immediately miss the feeling of his skin. His smile softens briefly. Then he grips the back of your neck, hard, and walks you to the bed. Your heart pounds and you fear you won’t be able to keep your feet. If you trip you have no doubt he will drag you.

You look away from him, glance at the bed. He catches you and turns you to face him as you make the last few steps to the bed. It presses against the backs of your knees and you nearly fall. Feyd doesn’t let you. A brief flicker of understanding dawns on you: he doesn’t want anything to hurt you, only he can do that. It’s a perverse comfort, but his control is seductive. You don’t let yourself think “protective” but that’s the closest word. Then all words leave your mind as he lets go of you and you sink back into the bed.

Feyd kneels on the bed, spreading your legs with his knees. He isn’t gentle but his touch is soft. Every part of his hairless body is smooth and cool and graceful. His giant arms frame your field of vision as he props himself above you. His lower lip glistens and you want to risk defiance. You press yourself up to meet his mouth, to suck at that lip, bite and tease.

His reaction is quick. His hand presses you back onto the bed, wrapping almost entirely around your neck. You lick your lips and sneer up at him. His eyes flash with understanding. He grins. Using his hand on your neck and his legs to hold his weight he slips a hand between you and finds your slick center. He trails his fingers through your wetness and your last vestige of pride falls away. You actually whine as you raise your hips to find more of his fingers. He obliges for a moment and lets you press against them. Then he pulls his hand away.

The pressure on your neck is not yet uncomfortable. You let out panting breaths. Your mouth hangs open, eyes locked with his. Before you realize his hand is gone from your neck, you feel his wet fingers in your mouth and taste yourself. Without needing to be told you suck gently on them. You watch his face soften with pleasure. Barely opening his eyes, Feyd slides his fingers from your mouth, down your body, and under your thigh. He guides your leg onto his hip. As he leans his weight onto his other arm he guides his cock into your slick folds. You hold your breath. You don’t stop watching him and he notices. He looks at you, lewdly, as he strokes himself through your dripping cunt. You feel yourself blush, a bit too late for embarrassment, but there it is anyway. He groans as he presses the tip of his cock against your opening.

“Please, Feyd,” you groan. “Oh please.” His eyes widen at your words, at the sound of his name.

“Beg for my cock, pet. Tell me how much you need it,” he commands, his face only inches above yours.

“I need it so badly it hurts, na-Baron,” you watch for his reaction to the use of his title and you aren’t disappointed. “I need to feel you. Please.”

Feyd groans and his head dips lower, almost resting his forehead on yours as he begins to slide into you. The feeling is intense as he stretches you. You open your legs a bit wider, sliding your foot up the curve of his ass to his lower back. He presses deeper, harder, and you exhale his name. You don’t dare close your eyes yet but his are closed tight and his brow is furrowed. You gingerly slide your hands over his head and grip the back of his neck. You pull him to you slightly, giving him permission to rest his head against your neck. He rubs his head against you like a cat and you smile to yourself as you close your eyes.

Feyd’s hips press into yours, spreading you wide as he buries his face against you. He pulls out slowly and slides back in, so you can feel every inch of him. His free hand searches up your side to your breast and squeezes. His thumb grazes your nipple as he starts to pump into you. You gasp as he pinches your nipple, twists it slightly. You moan and press your lips against the smooth skin of his head.

“You take me so well,” Feyd mutters into your chest. “Such a good girl taking all of me.” The gravel in his voice makes you shiver and mewl. On his next stroke in, you slip your other leg over his hip and circle your legs around his waist. You pull him into you, as far as you can take him, the head of his cock pressing against your deepest core. He makes the most satisfied sound imaginable. You feel his lips, then his teeth against your collarbone. Your grip on his neck tightens as he slides out of you and rams back in, hard and quick.

With the next stroke, Feyd raises his head to look at you. You let your hands slide to his shoulders, still holding tight. There is no softness on his face now. His lust-blown pupils have swallowed the blue of his eyes and his brow is furrowed as he focuses on fucking you. He squeezes your breast quickly then moves his hand to your hair. He holds your head still and leans down to kiss you when he thrusts. You dig your fingernails into his skin and groan.

His control starts to falter and he exhales into your mouth. His hand in your hair gripping tighter as his strokes shorten and his pace quickens. You slide your hand down from his shoulder to touch yourself. His facial expression changes momentarily as he feels you grip tighter around his cock. You grin up at him.

“I need it, Feyd,” you whisper, holding his eye contact. You wait a beat and arch your back as your fingers and his cock bring you closer to your climax. “I need to feel you cum.” You groan. The wave of your pleasure begins to crest, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. Then you feel his teeth clamp down on the flesh above your clavicle. Your orgasm overtakes you as the sharp sensation clashes with the low, throbbing pleasure between your legs. You murmur his name through clenched teeth.

Feyd pushes through your spasms around his cock. Growling and grunting but not releasing you from his bite. He fucks you through your orgasm. His rhythm stutters and his grip loosens. He lifts his head, a string of spit pulled from his bottom lip. He grabs your head with both his hands and, panting just above your mouth, he cums. The heat fills you and you moan his name again. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours as he presses into you one last time.

Then he stills, his forearms holding him up, but lets some of his weight press you together so he is almost lying on top of you, not pulling out yet. He exhales deeply and raises his head. He looks down at you.

You can’t catch your breath and your legs are heavy. You let them slide down his hips. Your neck throbs where his teeth marked you. You want to wrap your arms around him, pull him into you, stroking and soothing this wild animal. Instead, you grab the back of his head and pull him down to your mouth and kiss him until you taste red.