#seductive god of thunder

[the-mjolnir-owner]

Have you ever used your looks to get people on your side?

It’s sinday! Send my muse the dirtiest questions you can

"The Grandmaster thought so, but, no."

[lokisgoodgirl]

Lakes! Thor coded 😆😆 @mrs-illyrian-baby

"Attention please. I have some bad news. My beloved exalted champion has turned up missing."

[guardian-angel12]

When a storm is coming in and I hear the thunder I like to romantically look towards it and say “He’s coming.”

[manicmanuscription]

By The Candlelight

Pairing(s): Azriel x Reader

Summary: When you and Azriel finally get a chance to sleep after traveling for so long he gets a glimpse of you through your shadow being reflected.

Word Count: 1041

Warnings: Mutual Pining, slight seduction, Azriel being a mess over reader. Forced proximity. Mostly written in Azriel's perspective.

Based on the request here. Thank you so much for your request enjoy!

acotar masterlist | main masterlist

divider by @cafekitsune

“Sorry.” Azriel had murmured as you finally, finally, reached the safe house. Although ‘house’ probably wasn’t the best term. It was more of a single room with walls. It could barely fit Azriel and his large frame but at least there was a small mattress and a sink so you weren’t complaining, happy to just finally be out of the cold and have the chance to rid your rain soaked leathers. “It’s usually just me staying here.” 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve stayed in worse.” You chirped, throwing your go-back on the mattress rifling through it as you looked for a change of clothes pulling out various daggers, healing potions and salves, and of course a few necessities for your hair.

“Sorry I was added to the mission so late. I don't mean to overstep or be a burden.” You mentioned a pang of guilt pulling on your heart. 

“You are not a burden.” Azriel said quickly from behind you. You ignored the way your stomach flipped at the determination in his words. 

A few moments of silence passed, the rain beating against the wooden walls, the very faint hum of magic as the few wards strained to keep this place concealed and warm.

Azriel shuffled closer so you were now standing shoulder to shoulder, his hand slightly brushing against yours and his breath hitched at the contact. He picked up your hairbrush and what looked like to be a bottle of face wash. “Really?” The Shadowsinger teased. “Rhys told us to pack light.” 

You flashed him a smile, snatching the items from his hands. “I may be a Spy, Azriel but I am still a female.” You said with a playful smile, simply brushing your wet hair over your shoulder. Your smile, the way you said his names- gods- it had his knees buckling slightly. 

You picked up your bundle of fresh clothes after stuffing everything else that wasn’t needed back in your bag and faced Azriel a few beats of silence passing, your face inches apart.  He was too focused by the faint blush on your cheeks to notice your timidness as you spoke shyly.

“I..need to change.” Your voice broke the moment of staring and Azriel cleared his throat. “Of course, my apologies.” He moved towards the door, a miracle it was still on its hinges, his hands brushing against the wooden knob when you spoke again. “You…don’t have to go outside, it's raining pretty bad.” 

Azriel froze momentarily. His heart was pounding in his ears, he was sure it roared louder than the clap of thunder that rolled across the mountain. Lightning was next, flashes of it echoing through small cracks in the walls.

“Alright.” Azriel finally spoke, his voice hoarse and he slid his hands in his pockets trying to hide the slight tremor that ran through them. He still faced the door but took a step back inside if only to appease you. 

He could hear your clothing being removed from behind him and a lump formed in his throat as lust and imagination clashed in his mind.

A few candles had automatically lit as the door opened when you two arrived and their light stayed a strong steady presence. He did his best to ignore your shadow perfectly casted on the wall, yet each movement you made had his eyes straying to the illusion there. The tiny space made your silhouette as accurate as possible and he did his best to breath through the desire that hit him like a brick. 

He needed you more than he needed anything or anyone in his life and right now you were playing a dangerous game, albeit unknowingly.

He couldn’t even feel the wetness that seeped into his leathers, no longer feeling the cold that had settled so firmly. His shadows dispersed even further away from him, settling underneath floorboards and cracks in the walls, their absence somehow making the candles brighter and his breath hitched as your shadow enhanced at the new light. He hissed under his breath and his shadows laughed at his dilemma.

A few more minutes of intense silence passed and he tried to focus on the rain, on the cracks in the floorboard, yet his eyes could not stop straying to your shadow, to your curves and elegant movement.

Azriel was sure his breathing had stopped and his mind had emptied of all other thought’s that weren’t about you. He was clenching his teeth so hard they might break. Shame and guilt tingled in his gut yet he could not look away.

Everything about you enchanted him and knowing that you were changing just a few paces behind him, knowing that you trusted him enough to do that? His cock struggled in the confine of his pants and his mind whirred at the possibilities. 

“Alright.” You spoke gently and he turned around slowly, drinking you in. You were wearing an old t-shirt that seemed just a little bit too big for you and some long sweatpants that hugged your thighs perfectly. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, staring at you with that intensity he always seemed to possess.

“Hope I didn’t take too long.” You whispered and he shook his head no, not trusting his voice. 

He was entranced with your movements as you set your bag on the floor, sliding underneath the covers of the mattress and moved over, very deliberately leaving a space for him there and his heart was going a million miles a minute, his breathing stopped as you started talking once again, it took him a minute to process your words as the sound of your voice hummed in his chest pleasantly, drowning everything else out. 

There was only you.

“Make sure to dry off before coming to bed.” 

He nodded, turning around and running his hands through his hair, trying to calm his heart and steady his breathing. Did you not see how you were affecting him?

How having you so close yet so far was physically painful. He ached for you and silently cursed Rhys for this mission. Azriel rolled his shoulders and reached for his own bag. His hearing hyper focused on the sound of your breathing, on every shift you made in the bed. 

Gods you were going to be the death of him. 

[aeristudios]

fated strut- pt. i

̗̀➛ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: greek god!Jeonghan x model!reader

̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In a whirlwind fashion show, a part-time model's life takes a mystical turn when she becomes the muse for the captivating Greek God Jeonghan. Unbeknownst to her, she shares a deep connection tied to his past. As their chemistry ignites amidst secrets and rivalries, will love conquer their complicated fates?

̗̀➛ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, smut, fantasy, doppleganger au, r 18+

̗̀➛ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: nocturnal emission (sex dream), unprotected sex, kissing, fingering, backshots, riding, oral, biting, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, pet names, sweet stuff, a lil bit of squirting, cream pie, oh and cursing 😂

̗̀➛ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 7.2k

̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐍: This fic has had me stressed for the last couple of months lol. I have always been into greek mythology (I even hosted a multi collab before for it) and I got the idea earlier this year to do another one but just for seventeen. Thank you Maren @wooahaeproductions for hosting the 13 Gods Of Olympus collab with me and helping it come to life. Also thank you to @hannieween and @hobeemin for beta reading this and giving me some much needed feedback. I knew what I had was good and with your help it made it better :) also thank you to @cheolism and @junkissed for letting me run some ideas with them about the greek mythology and the BC era lol. I hope you like this 🖤

Golden light filters through your curtains, casting soft shadows that dance across the room. The scent of something sweet—honey and vanilla—lingers in the air, pulling at the edges of your consciousness. Everything feels so real and vivid, so alive. There is a haze in the light that looks nostalgic. 

You are sitting on a kline, handcrafted by Hephaestus himself, weaving away with a ball of twine in your hands. The clatter of sandals against the hard floor gets your attention. Looking up, Jeonghan is standing there, his blonde hair shimmering in the light, with a playful smile on his lips. 

“Shouldn’t be off delivering those messages to the mortals?” You tease him playfully. 

“They can wait,” he says, setting down his bag. “I have more pressing matters to attend to.” 

“Oh?” You slowly set down your twine. “What is that?” 

He walks over and kisses you deeply, sending ripples through your soul. You realize quickly that the “pressing matter” was that he wanted to be inside of you, and you were more than happy to oblige. 

“Jeonghan, you’re going to get in trouble with Zeus,” you taunt him. 

“I don’t care,” he grits, pulling you into another kiss.

You take off your gown, your nakedness exposed to him in all its glory. Jeonghan’s eyes you with adoration and lust, his hand palming the growing bulge under his toga. Sheer excitement runs through your veins, the thought of being roughly fucked on the kline making you wet with arousal. As if he read your mind, he tugs at your hair and bends you over, his fingers seductively playing with your sweet folds. 

“You’re already so wet for me, my love?” He licks your essence coated on his digits. “I have to break the rules more often.”

Your laugh is light as the air, anticipating and craving him deeply. You find yourself pressing your clit, spreading your legs apart, and rubbing it so he can get a better view. Jeonghan licks his lips at the sight before him, his hand stroking his cock as he lines up to your entrance. 

“Please,” your breathy moans floating in the room. “Give it to me.” 

“As you wish,” he murmurs as he inserts himself in your clenching heat. Your back arches as his thrusts go deep, the clapping sound of your skin against his hard and loud enough to create thunder from the heavens. Jeonghan looks down in amusement, watching your ass bounce every time he snaps his hips. He’s turned on and seduced, and you could have him turn into puddy with just one look. That’s how much he is into you. That’s how much he loves you. 

“You feel s-so g-good,” you barely sound out. “I-I love you.”

Jeonghan pulls you by your hair, his thrusts unrelenting as he kisses you hard. “I love you too.”

He raises his leg on the kline, pushing you back down, and strokes you from another angle. Your legs shake, your peak nearing as he continues to hit your pleasure points in all the right ways. “FUCK” is all you can scream out before you come undone, your essence squirting all over him and the floor. You are a whimpering mess, clutching the edge of the kline as he continues his onslaught until his release comes shortly after. He fills you up with his hot load, pumping his dick until he is spent, slowly slipping out of you. The loss is evident, and his cum starts to drip in between your folds. 

“Uh, uh,” he frowns as he crouches behind you. “We can’t leave that to waste, can we?”

He swipes what’s dripping down your leg with his fingers, returning them to your mouth to suck. You suck them with earnest, your eyes closing with sexual gratification. He turns you wild, and you want more. You attempt to initiate another round, but you are interrupted by the sound of thunder just outside your window, scaring you half to death.

“Sounds like the big guy is mad,” Jeonghan reluctantly pulls away. “I have to go.”

“Yeah, I know,” you nod, kneeling down to grab your gown. “You’ll be back, right?” 

He gazes at you with the softest eyes you have ever seen, letting him pull you close into another kiss. “Don’t I always come back?”

Your world shifts into a fading memory, the golden haze slowly replaced with stark brown walls and paintings. Jeonghan is gone. The thunder outside is as real as ever, followed by a bolt of lightning that feels too close to home. Reality slowly sets in, and you realize you are having a dream. This is the second one you have had this week with Jeonghan, the infamous Greek god. It feels natural, like you’re watching a memory of yourself, and you don’t understand it. 

You frantically grab your journal, jotting down every moment before the details get fuzzy and lost forever. This has to mean something, right?

A few weeks later...

You feel the galvanic buzz of anticipation humming as you stand backstage at Paris Fashion Week. Models twirl past you, dripping in the latest haute couture, their expressions exuding fierceness. You? You were just happy to be there. As the last-minute addition, the unexpected wildcard about to open the show—your heart races, matching the rhythm of the music that spills into the warehouse. The scent of expensive cologne and crepitus excitement lingers around you.

You weren’t even supposed to be here at all. You model in your part-time to pay the bills, but your real love, your true passion, is classical studies—specifically, your focus on Greek mythology. Growing up, you’ve always heard the stories of the Gods who ruled the world and how slowly but surely they started disappearing because people quit believing in them. Your mom, who raised you pagan, would tell you about missionaries coming over and preaching the Bible and using it in force, and people started losing their way and adapting to this new life. There are still gods amongst us who will never go away, no matter what. People are still human and have needs, after all.

That’s what brought you here tonight—Jeonghan, the god of many things, keeps appearing in your dreams; scenes of a past life take up much of your night, and you can’t ignore it anymore. You have to see and know him, and you aren’t above using unconventional methods to get what you want. You cozied up to the right people and got yourself cast onto his fashion show. Sometimes, all it takes is a look, a touch of your hand, or very selective words to get what you want. You aren’t sure you would call it a power… let’s just say you are persuasive.

“Thank the gods you are here tonight,” the stage manager, Lea, says as she adjusts your dress. “I can’t believe she didn’t show up.”

The model that was supposed to open up the show, Penelopeia, partied a little too hard the night before. How do you know this? You were right beside her, dancing and drinking the night away. You knew her in passing, working for the same modeling agency, and talked here and there, but you two aren’t friends. But you were out with acquaintances last night, and she was there. Ultimately, she is a grown woman and can make her own choices, but you might’ve given her some extra encouragement when she complained about her being tired and “needing” a break. You told her it was “fine” to blow off some steam, which wouldn’t mean anything. The touch of your hand when you held hers and listened to her cry about how tough her life is and whispered nothings in her ear. It was perfect. 

“Are you ready?”

You nod as the music changes, the lights dim, and you take your place behind the runway. Your heartbeat matched the drum's beat in your ears. 

“I'm like some kind of supernova... watch out!”

On cue, you walked, every gaze drawn to you as your body moved to the beat, each step a spell cast upon the audience. Unbeknownst to you, Jeonghan stood backstage, mesmerized by the essence you exuded, a natural allure that made him curious with its intensity.

You circle the runway and walk back to where you came from, your body on autopilot as your linen dress sashes across your body. You are rushed backstage, the dress slipping off of you hurriedly, briefly exposing your breasts while you are putting on another. You feel eyes burning into the back of your neck, and you instinctively turn around, meeting Jeonghan's soft brown eyes. His warm blonde locks hang below his ears, touching his delicate neck. He smirked, raising his glass of red wine, and you meekly looked away, clearly affected by a god's presence.

Jeonghan watches you intently as you take another lap around the runway. The familiarity of your presence slowly creeps in, and curiosity is taking care of the cat. He’s been around for a long time now, and he’s seen a lot of faces, old and new. But you remind him of an old lover from his past life, someone he prefers to keep buried in the back of his mind. You were clearly a doppelganger of her, and watching you in the flesh unnerves him to his core. There is no need to bring up thousands-year-old drama now. You’re in front of him now, beautiful as ever, and despite every red flag— he will have you wrapped around his fingers by the end of the night. 

You walk backstage and are dragged to the side by your dresser, who is adjusting your clothes one last time for your final walk. She fusses with your hair, a small annoyance you put up with because you know she is doing her job. You find yourself searching for Jeonghan through the slew of models, your eyes not resting until you see him talking to his stage assistant near the beginning of the runway. He is a god in every sense of the word. Butterflies flutter in the pit of your stomach when you see his soft, delicate features and how he carries himself. Very deific, very mindful. 

“He’s mesmerizing, isn’t he?”

You slowly come out of your self-induced trance, meeting the eyes of your dresser, Helen, a younger woman who couldn’t be older than 21. Her doe-eyed look makes her look innocent, and you feel the need to protect her from this cruel industry. 

“He’s okay,” you clear your throat. 

“Oh please, he’s a divine enigma,” Helen chuckled, a playful smirk gracing her lips. “It’s perfectly natural to admire someone’s allure, especially someone so utterly enchanting as HIM.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her outburst, knowing that deep down, she was right. Jeonghan is the sexiest man you have ever laid eyes on. It doesn’t help that he is the god of fortune, luxury, and all the other things that make him much more attractive. 

“Okay, it’s time to do the final walk,” Helen announces as she finishes up. “You are going to walk out with him in front since you technically walked first in the show.”

You gaze at Jeonghan across the way, watching him wrap up his conversation with the stage assistant. “Is this custom? I thought usually the models walk out one final time, and then the designer comes out towards the end.” 

“Usually, yeah,” Helen shrugs. “But that’s not how Jeonghan does things.”

She lightly pushes you towards the front, catching his attention as the strobe lights change colors. You glowed in your dress, symbolizing a halo of beauty that made it hard for Jeonghan to turn away. This catches him off guard, a strange chill running through his veins that he is unfamiliar with. Keeping himself in line, he saunters over to you, his close proximity filling your stomach with butterflies. 

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” he whispers in your ear. “I don’t bite.”

The thought of his perfect mouth giving you love bites thrills you, and an intense longing starts to brew within your core. Feeling bold, you smile softly, responding in a tone only he could hear. 

“Well, that’s too bad.” 

Jeonghan chuckles lightly, impressed by your cheekiness. He slips his arm between yours, waiting for the curtains to open. The light touch of his arm brushing against yours gives you goosebumps, the exuberance bubbling inside you. You’ve studied him all your life, read the stories, and visited the ancient sites from many moons ago. You have never been near a Greek god, let alone touch one, and for a moment, you forget why you were really there. You were just a pretty model, attracted to the most successful man in the world, and the way he looks at you right now is setting your loins on fire. 

The curtains finally open, and you walk with him arm and arm like you were his equal. The other models did as they were supposed to do, walking behind you as you two set the runway ablaze. You stood in the center while he gave his bows; the audience applauded in crescendos. Jeonghan then returns to your side, his presence intoxicating and making you almost lose your senses. You walk in unison until you reach backstage, and Helen is waiting for you to help you out of your dress. Before you parted ways, he lightly touched your hand, grabbing your attention and Helen’s, with raised eyebrows.

“I’m interested in sharing another stage with you,” he whispers, his brown eyes gleaming with desire. “Without all the light and people watching us. Beyond the runway.” 

You cock an eyebrow playfully, putting on your best poker face, but inside, nervousness eats at you alive. You know you shouldn’t do this, as your sole reason was to find answers about him and why he encompasses your every dream. It took a lot of sweet talking and favors to get you in his lineup, let alone starting the show and inadvertently being his muse of the day. You knew you were going to have to mix your business with pleasure, and with the way he is gazing at you, the business is going further in the back of your mind. 

“Where do I sign up?” You say coyly, rubbing your finger against the fabric of his shirt. 

“Meet me in the back in fifteen minutes, and I’ll take you to my place.” 

You nod, and he leaves you with a soft kiss on your cheek. “Don’t be late.”

You watched him walk away, still feeling his warm lips on your cheek. You kept it cool, casually grabbing your things, but inside, you were buzzing, excitement bursting through your chest like fireworks. You weren’t sure what the night would bring, but you would never turn down the possibility of being in the company of a Greek god. 

You make your way to the back as directed, exchanging goodbyes with Helen and watching the models leave one by one. Fifteen minutes exactly, Jeonghan appears, twirling his car keys in his hands and opening the back door for you, leading you to a classic Mercedes Benz 250CE. He opens your door like the gentleman he is, making sure you are secure in your seat before coming over to the driver’s side. 

“Are you ready to go, doll?”

You nod, your sparkling eyes matching your smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The car ride was a short one, but it felt like it was going on forever. He played smooth jazz, driving with one hand and conveniently placing his hand on your thigh. Your mind was filled with thoughts of your dreams—the intimacy you felt and the sadness that tormented you when he disappeared. 

“You seem comfortable,” Jeonghan observed. “Most people would be scared to be with me.”

“Well, I have a feeling I am in good hands,” you answer honestly. 

You had so many questions about him as a Greek god, as it's not often (or really at all) that you can talk to one. Despite these waves of emotions tugging at your heart, you maintained a flawless facade until you arrived at his residence, a beautiful hotel that housed penthouses only the wealthy lived in.

“Welcome in.” 

The housekeeper greeted you as you walked into Jeonghan’s penthouse, located in the heart and soul of Paris. The interior was dripped in luxury, feeling more like an art gallery than a place to live. Everything has a place, and it makes you nervous about even moving around in the event you accidentally bump into something. The vinyl player played soulful jazz, a fancy concert piano was in the corner and hundreds of books lined up like his own personal library. Jeonghan guides you by your waist to the kitchen, a grand spectacle of the finest cooking ware, dishes, and appliances that were way above your budget. You sit on a stool while he pours you a glass of red, the finest from Chateauneuf du Pape.

“Nice place,” you sweet talk him. “I would say you must’ve worked hard to get all this, but I know better.”

“Do you?” He counters, handing you your glass. “Do you think you know everything?”

“I know what I know from books, archives, etcetera,” you explain casually. “It’s not like I can ring up Zeus and ask him to read me a bedtime story.” 

His lips curve as he chuckles, watching you sip the rich ruby-red liquid in your glass. “You have a sense of humor. I like that.”

You smirked, leaving him to his thoughts as you walked towards the large picture window, looking at the Eiffel Tower. It’s late, but the city has so much life in it. The tall, grandeur buildings that have stood through the ages are accompanied by French lights and taxis flying back and forth at night. Between your studies, walking runways, and doing commercial shoots, it was a matter of time before you made it out of the United States and into Paris. 

You aren’t this in-demand model agencies are banging the door down for. But when you come to work, you work. You know how to convince people to take a chance on you, whether it's your words of intellect or how you pose. Your mom always taught you to be observant and scope the scene before you act; that advice hasn’t stirred you wrong before. 

In the window's reflection, you watch Jeonghan gently place his glass on the table, the soft clink barely breaking the serene silence. He strides to your right, his presence warm and magnetic as he stands beside you, eyes mesmerized by the sprawling cityscape before you. 

“So why are you here? Aside from the obvious.”

Jeonghan’s question catches you off guard, stirring you out of your peaceful daydream.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, baby,” Jeonghan cocks his head. “Don’t play coy.”

Your response hangs in the air as you search for the right words. How do you confess to a god that you've been dreaming of them without knowing why? You are sure they have heard it all before, and you wouldn’t be any different.

“Honestly speaking,” you start, taking another sip of your wine. “I’ve studied you all my life: the Greek Gods and the beings you used to be on Earth. Your stories fascinate me, and I want to put this master’s degree in classical studies to good use.”

“Uh huh,” Jeonghan hums. “Are you sure that’s it?” 

“I mean, I may have other reasons… but I can’t tell you all my secrets.”

You finish the remnants in your glass, sauntering and setting it next to his. You glance up, your heart beating fast as you meet his gaze. He watches you intently, a spark of amusement dancing in his beautiful brown eyes as he watches you internally squirm. At that moment, it feels as though the world has narrowed down to just the two of you, and you feel yourself being sucked into his spell. 

“Well, are you going to stare at me all night or show me around this place?”

You raise your hand, waiting for him to grab it and lead the way. He does just that, showing you around his massive penthouse. You don’t know if you could ever afford this place even if you had all the money in the world. Every room has its bathroom, and the balcony is beautifully decorated with a view to die for. You notice another room with more books than the collection you saw earlier, and you make a note later to ask about it… even hoping to take a peek at potentially ancient history. 

 Jeonghan slipped his hand on your waist as the tour went on, pulling you close like you were already his. His slender fingers held on to you kind of tight, like he was imprinting on you… You can’t say you don’t like that. 

You stop in front of his bedroom, the dark forest green double-doored room paired with gold handles waiting to be opened. You gaze at Jeonghan, who leans against the door, casually putting his hands in his pockets. 

“Is there a reason why we are just standing here?” You pose, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“No reason at all,” he responds, pulling you closer to him. “I just like looking at my bedroom door closed, that’s all.”

You raise an eyebrow, quite aware that he is teasing you. Being around him gives you a rush through your veins, a magnetic pull that sets your nerves and soul on fire. You know you should be doing a better job fighting this attraction between you two, but being around him makes you slowly lose all of your senses. He’s intoxicating; you feel hazy, like you are in a dream and don’t want to wake up. 

“So, are you going to sweet talk me in front of this door all night, or are you going to let me in?”

He chuckles softly as he opens his doors, leading to a grand master bedroom that all of the words in the dictionary couldn’t come close to describing. You knew he was the god of luxury, but what’s in front of your eyes exceeds that. This is opulence in its purest form. His massive king-size bed was decked with the finest white blankets and pillows filled with goose feathers that looked handcrafted with care. Your toes bask in the softest fur rug you have ever touched. It felt like you were walking on clouds. Jeonghan motions for you to sit on the bed, taking your hand as he helps you climb up. Your dress rises a bit, exposing your inner thigh to your surprise and his delight. 

“Don’t get any ideas,” you rib, crossing your legs slowly. 

“Don’t worry, baby. You’ll give me an invitation by the end of the night.”

You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you adjust your dress. Watching him move with purpose to his shelf, he pulls out a vinyl and puts it in the player. Recognizing Billie Holiday's distinct and powerful voice, you lean back into the pillows and watch him approach the other side of the bed. With a snap of his fingers, the lights dim, opening the curtains and revealing another side of Paris, a quieter one that shows the city below. The ceiling separates slowly, revealing a twilight blue skyline with dark clouds surrounding you. It’s beautiful. 

You feel the bed shift on your left, and Jeonghan climbs quietly, his movements as light as a cat. He lifts the comforter, a gentle invitation for you to come under as his feet disappear under the thick cover. 

“Are you this friendly with all the women you bring over?” You smirk, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope,” his laugh is light as he rakes his fingers through his hair. “Just the ones I like.” 

You nod, following his lead and slowly basking into the warm cover. You can still see him in the low light, his radiance shining through the dark room. Maybe it’s because of your extensive research of him and your knowledge, but he feels familiar. Every fiber in your body tells you to pull closer to him and confess every little thought swirling in your head. Is this what it’s like to be in front of a god?

“So, a master's in Classical Studies, huh?” Jeonghan probes, his index finger making a swirling motion on his sheets. “Let me guess, you have a focus on Greek mythology?”

Despite putting on your best poker face, you felt like something bitter went down your throat. He caught you off guard, and to be frank, it’s your fault. The god of many things and the most intelligent being to walk on this Earth would of course know who you are. He probably had your whole life story while you walked on his runway. 

“Ah,” you exhale. “You must think I’m crazy.” 

“Nah, I don’t,” he assures. “I’m very intrigued by you.”

“Are you?” 

“Yes. You’re smart, carry yourself well, almost as witty as me, and very well-spoken. Why do you choose to model instead of working in something with your degree?”

You stare at him, his words chipping away at your exterior piece by piece. You could sit here and come up with a lie that sounds plausible and keep your secrets. But you want to know why he keeps plaguing your dreams, and maybe he has the answers you need to make sense of this. Some honesty can’t hurt, right?

“I… like the attention,” you confess. “I like the way people look at me when I walk by. I love being adored and wanted. I like that I am so educated and an effective communicator that I can talk myself into things I want to be in. That and my looks combined? I don’t get turned down often.”

Jeonghan gazes at you, wondering if he should be amazed at your self-awareness or frightened. Admittedly, your confidence turns him on, and you have the kind of intellect he likes on a deeper level. Your voice is calm and seductive without even trying, and not to mention, you have a timeless beauty that makes it hard to look away. When you walked down that runway, your stride was a beautiful masterpiece—it held him captive. It was as if you were trained by Aphrodite herself. 

“Plus, I am not totally abandoning my degree,” you continue on. “I want to eventually write about the Greek gods and the legends behind them. So many stories and their lore have been forgotten as people worship other gods, and I don’t want that to be forgotten. It feels like a passion project, but I know this will benefit the world somehow.”

“How?”

“Well,” you clear your throat. “It will provide a different perspective of ancient civilization.”

You run your hands through your hair, causing the v top of your dress to shift slightly, partially revealing your cleavage. You reach down to adjust it, and Jeonghan eyes your every move as you gradually slide your dress back up. It’s your favorite dress, which you picked up at a thrift store a long time ago in New York. It’s a jade green evening dress that hugs your body the right way, with a mid-thigh split on the right. 

“You’re quiet,” you observe, shifting your body closer to him. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, just taking in what you said.” He pauses, his finger slowly sliding down to the slit of your dress. “I like the way you think.”

You nod, carefully choosing your next words. “I’m glad I made you feel that way.”

Your insides are on fire, begging for him to touch you in all the wrong right places. As if he could read your mind, he pulls you in for a kiss, his soft lips tearing down any walls you had. In a swift motion, he’s on top of you, hiking your dress up as he grinds his growing bulge against your sensitive core. A pleased hum escapes your lips, your body completely giving in to him.

“Mmm, you smell sweet,” Jeonghan utters, biting the bottom of your lip. “I’m sure you’ll taste just as good.”

His lips travel down your neck, sucking on your smooth skin until it's tender. Your hands desperately grab onto his silky blond hair as his tongue plays in circles along your collarbone, igniting a fire in you. You slowly lower the straps of your dress, tugging at the silky fabric until it lowers completely, revealing your breasts. Jeonghan marvels at the sight in front of him, his fingers brushing softly against your nipples. 

“Ah, you’re a goddess,” he whispers. “I’m going to have fun with you.”

He kisses you again, his hunger for you hot and strong as he unbuttons his shirt, revealing his smooth chest and defined abs. Fire and desire burn between you two, and you thirstily tug at his pants, pushing them down so you can see his cock, threatening to break free in his boxers. 

“You are an eager little thing, aren’t you?” 

“I just know what I like, that’s all.” 

Leaving you with one last kiss, he moves on your breasts, cupping them softly and sucking on your nipples with such tenderness as if they were prized possessions. Your perfume mix smells pleasant to him, like an aphrodisiac, and he cannot get enough. Jeonghan usually likes to play with his food a bit before he eats it, but you bring something out of him that he hasn’t felt in a long time: impulsiveness and passion. He wants you more than he cares to admit, making him act out of his cool, calm, and collected nature. He sucks on your nipples harder, earning a hard moan from you, the blend of pleasure and pain igniting waves of excitement that leaves you breathless. 

His hand slips in between your legs, pushing them apart and sliding your panties to the side. His thumb rubs your clit softly, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. Jeonghan has you feeling like you are floating on air, unable to tell him what you want coherently. 

“Mmm… fuck I can’t take this,” you mutter. 

“Well, you will learn tonight, baby,” Jeonghan smirks as he lowers himself to your sweet entrance. “Tell me what you want.” 

“F-fuck,” you cooed. “You know what I want.”

“Just because I am a god doesn’t mean I can read your mind,” he teases, biting softly on your thigh. “Tell me what you want.”

You feel hot and rabid, trying to chase a high you are so close to getting. Jeonghan removes his thumb from your nub, snickering as he watches you groan in protest. He is determined to make you beg for it, and watching you squirm and fall apart underneath him would be the highlight of his night. He inserts a digit inside your wet core; a sweet smile spreads across your face soon after. 

“J-Jeonghan,” you sputter. “P-please just—”

“Say it, baby.” 

“Fuck, just make me cum, please.” 

Jeonghan slips a second finger into you, leaving small kisses on your thigh as he thrusts into your wet cunt. Your hands grip the sheets as he goes deeper, watching excitedly as your essence coats his fingers and his sheets. He planned to study you, explore what made you tick, and how your body liked to be teased. He wants to hear your perfect voice scream his name as your body shakes from being royally fucked by a god, and the way you are laid out in front of him, he is losing all composure. 

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs. “I think you deserve to cum now.” 

Quickly removing his fingers, he dives into your wet folds with his tongue and up to your sensitive clit. His fingers intertwine with yours, eating you with such a craze, the hunger of a starved being who is eating his favorite meal for the last time. The vibrating hums of his mouth to your delicate flower sends you over the edge, your orgasm crashing down on you hard. He holds onto your thighs, holding you hostage as he takes everything you got. You proved him right—you tasted just as sweet as your perfume. He’s addicted to your aroma, a natural aphrodisiac that he will never get enough of. 

“There you are, princess, ” he whispers. “Keep giving it to me.”

Your moans turn into whines and then screams, your fingers desperately clinging to the sheets as he drinks you in. Jeonghan’s appetite is insatiable, and the god’s thirst for you is getting stronger by the minute. His nails dig into your thighs as he licks up and down your folds, desperate to taste more of your sweet essence. You feel airy, your body floating on cloud nine as if you have never had this kind of pleasure before. Sure, you have had your experiences and what you thought was the best sex of your life, but those don’t even come close to this.

“Come on baby, give me another,” he goads you. “I know you have it in you.” 

“J-Jeonghan,” you croak, desperation falling on your lips. “P-please. You win.”

“Win?” He chuckles softly. “ I haven’t even started.” 

His fingers return to your entrance, thrusting into you while his tongue remains on your clit. His lips make lewd noises, slurping and smacking away as he bullies you into your second orgasm of the night. Your toes curl, the springs in your abdomen snapping as it ripples through you like a hard wave. Jeonghan moans into your sweet core as you surrender to him; his pupils dilate as he takes the remaining energy that you have left. His free hand furiously pulls down his boxers, liberating his cock, and he touches himself at last.  He jerks himself to the thought of your mouth wrapped around his dick, tasting his cum as he shoots loads down your throat. He could easily stop and make his imagination a reality, but you just taste too damn good. 

“Damn,” you curse, brushing his hair from his face. “You are so good at this.” 

“Mmhmm,” is all he could say, his cruel tongue still playing circles around your clit. You lift yourself away from him, watching him pout as you take his meal. You can barely move, your legs still spasming from that earth-shattering orgasm. Your eyes travel lower to his freed cock, watching him pump himself with such eagerness, the precum oozing from his tip begging to be sucked. He was thick and girthy, his veins popping in places you liked. Your mouth salivates at the thought of tasting him in your mouth. 

“Can I?”

You sit up, gently motioning for him to lay back on the pillow. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he does what he is told, relaxing his hands behind his head. Jeonghan isn’t used to his playmates wanting to take control in the bedroom; most of them just want to have a story to tell about being fucked by a god. You excite him, a confident woman who knows what they want and isn’t apologetic about it. The twinkle in your eye you have for him turns him on, and he is counting the seconds where he can finally be inside of you. 

Your hand slides up his shaft, watching him shudder from your touch. You lean down, sucking on his tip and tasting his precum. You make eye contact as you take more of him, hallowing your cheeks and letting saliva drip out of the corners of your mouth. He tastes better than you imagined, and you feel gratification watching his lips part and low moans escape his pretty little mouth. You feel dirty, like his own personal whore, and you aren’t mad at that. Your very sensitive core still wants him, your clit pulsating at the thought of his very thick cock beating your walls down. 

“You look so beautiful with your lips wrapped around me, princess,” he grunts, taking a handful of your hair. “Let’s see if you can handle me.” 

Jeonghan fucks your mouth roughly with such a force and rhythm that was only his, tears streaking your face as you take him whole. His dick hits the back of your throat, and you are thankful that you have a mean gag reflex. It’s smooth, clean, and fits your mouth just right. It’s like it was molded and shaped just for you. Your hand sneaks in between your legs, playing with your nub and willing yourself to cum for the third time. 

“Tsk, tsk, you dirty girl,” Jeonghan murmurs between grunts. “You do want me that bad? Do you want my cock inside your wet cunt?”

You nod fervently, your fingers increasing their pace. He pulls himself out of your mouth suddenly, lifting your head and kissing you with such an intense fire, his hands grasping your ass and giving it a tight smack. 

“I want to ride you, baby,” you breathe between kisses. “I want to feel you inside of me. Give me that, please.” 

He wants you as bad as you want him, his adrenaline pumping through his veins as he positions himself on the bed. His hands grab your hips, hovering over him as he aligns his cock to meet your entrance. The thought came to your mind about using a condom, but it went away quickly when you sunk onto him. He feels good; your walls tighten around him as you adjust to his size, rocking slowly back and forth to get a rhythm. 

“That’s it,” Jeonghan groans as he cups your breasts. “Take me however you want me.”

You increase your pace while he bucks into you, biting your lip until it's crimson red. His nails dig into your hips, the pain mixed with the pleasure sending you soaring through cloud nine. You lose all inhibition, riding him harder and deeper, addicted to chasing that orgasmic high that you feel coming sooner than you’d expected. Your body is on autopilot, refusing to stop until you’ve cummed on him at least once. If you didn’t know any better, you would say you were falling in love with him. The sex you had with him in your dreams doesn’t even come close to the real thing. His cock consistently hits all the right places, and he pays great attention to your body, teasing you and pushing you to your limits until you are sent over the edge. 

Jeonghan grabs you by your neck and kisses you deeply, thrusting deeper into you until you can no longer keep your composure. He loves watching you lose control, surrendering your body to him and screaming his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. His lips are slightly parted, whispering sweet things in your ear, praising you for taking him so well and rewarding you with filling you up with his cum. You look every bit fucked out and heavenly to him, and he wishes he could stay buried inside of you forever. What he feels for you is risky, and if it were someone else, he would turn those feelings off. But with you and the way you are taking him so well, he is completely into you. 

He helps you ride out your high, kissing you from your lips to your collarbone until you are overripe with sensitivity. Slowly lifting you, he lays you gently on his right, allowing you to catch your breath. 

“I-I don’t think I have ever been fucked like that before,” you confess in between breaths. “Are you sure you’re not the god of love?”

Jeonghan chuckles, putting on a robe and heading towards the bathroom. Looking at himself in the mirror, he notices a few scratches you left, noticeable dig marks from your nails that dug into his skin. He shrugs them off, knowing that the next day, they will disappear, and it will be like they were never there. He’s been on this Earth for a long time and has slept his way through all the women and men he desired, but this night with you has topped all of them. He feels a connection with you mentally and spiritually, and after feeling you for the first time, he is determined to keep you by his side. By all means. 

Your eyes are heavy with exhaustion, the day’s events catching up to you as your body acclimates with the sheets. You hear soft water running from the bathroom, and a few seconds later, Jeonghan appears in front of the door, his robe removed and naked. You glance at him and smirk, slowly getting out of bed and walking towards him. He is a divine enigma indeed. 

“Don’t worry, darling,” he assures you. “It’ll be a nice, relaxing bath.” 

His bathroom was definitely tailored to his taste. It had white and forest green marble floors, a shower stall big enough for more than three people centered in the middle, and two vanity sinks placed on opposite ends of each other. The tub was round and spacious, placed by the circular window that allowed you to see the stars at night. You slowly step into the foaming water, the sweet aroma of vanilla and bergamots filling your senses and pleasing your soul. Jeonghan comes in behind you, the water slightly splooshing around as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close. You relax on his chest, feeling at peace as you stare outside the window. It feels so natural, feeling this comfortable around him. 

Your dreams of him show that you two had a successful relationship. You were partners in everything. He was good at communicating, and you knew how to support him and could persuade anyone if needed. You understood your roles, and you were perfect. So why do they always end with you walking away?

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Jeonghan’s voice breaks through your reverie. 

He unwraps his arms around you, places his hands on your shoulders, and gives you a comforting massage. You close your eyes, letting the steam from the warm water relax your muscles. 

“Heading back home,” you sigh heavily. “I have some go-sees to book and also continue my research. I have to put these looks and my big brain to use.”

“Yeah, no, you’re not,” Jeonghan declares smoothly. “I want you to stay here and work for me. Become my new muse.”

He watches you react closely, his eyes shining with mischief. “Just think about it. You would be my inspiration, my spark. Imagine the kind of magic we would create together.”

He catches you off guard but excites you nevertheless. Jeonghan wants to make you the face of his brand. You would be crazy to turn that down. Plus, it makes you so much closer to your research and figuring out your dreams. This was the universe giving you a sign.

“Yeah,” you say after thinking it over. “I would be open to that.”

You sink further into his chest, your tiredness getting the best of you, and falling into a slumber in the warm water. Jeonghan leaves light kisses on your shoulder, watching you sleep peacefully in his arms. He could go for another glass of wine, a perfect way to top off his night with you. He knows getting entangled with his ex-lover’s doppelganger is risky business, and eventually, he will have to deal with the truth of things. But tonight is not the night to open Pandora’s box and bring up the ancient feelings and heartache that he’s put behind. Instead, he will lay here with you, enjoying the sereneness while it lasts. 

Thank you for reading ^_^ if you would like to join my taglist, sign up here.

[phoenixrisingastro]

You weren’t born—you emerged. Clawed out of shadow, dripping in the silence between lightning and thunder. You didn’t come here to smile politely and blend in. You came to taste every flavor of pain, power, possession, and pleasure. And leave fingerprints on the souls of anyone who dares to love you.

Scorpio Rising is not a placement. It is a pact.

An agreement between your higher self and your shadow. A contract that says: “We will never live lightly. We will never love softly. We will never die quietly.”

And so the world meets you not through your words, but your energy. They feel you before you speak. A presence that pricks the skin. Something ancient. Something wounded and weaponized. You don’t make an entrance. You cause a disturbance. Something in the air changes. Their pupils dilate. Their breath slows. Their trauma rises to the surface. Because your existence isn’t passive—it’s provocative.

You are the child of the underworld. Pluto’s mark is etched across your aura like a warning label: “Do not touch unless you’re ready to unravel”

Most don’t read it.

They touch anyway.

And then they wonder why they can’t forget you.

Because Scorpio Rising doesn’t do relationships. It does rebirths.

You either leave someone the same… or you never really touched them at all.

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙈𝙔𝙏𝙃: 𝘿𝙀𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘿𝙊𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙄𝙊𝙉

Scorpio Rising carries the mythos of every underworld god that ever ruled in silence.

You are Persephone—the maiden stolen, transformed into queen, holding pomegranate seeds between your teeth like secrets never confessed. You are Hades—the shadow king with eyes like oil and fire, who doesn’t seduce, but summons. You are Lilith—the original exile, the primal defiant, the dark feminine who said “no” and was branded dangerous for it.

But you’re also the phoenix—the bird that incinerates itself by choice, just to feel what it’s like to rise again with bloodier wings. You are the embodiment of sacred cycles: decay, death, and rebirth. You are nature’s reminder that nothing stays pure without cost.

You are the serpent and the orgasm. The poison and the cure. The lover and the executioner. And your life? Well, it’s a never-ending ritual of shedding skins no one ever saw you grow in the first place.

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝘼𝘾𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘽𝙀𝘼𝙎𝙏 — 1𝙎𝙏 𝙃𝙊𝙐𝙎𝙀 𝙎𝘾𝙊𝙍𝙋𝙄𝙊

Let’s speak of the body. Your body is not simply flesh. It is memory. It is armor. It is seduction with teeth. People look at you and see something unspeakable—something animal, primal, instinctive. Your features may be sharp, feline, still. Or soft but unreadable—masklike. But the eyes? That’s where the story bleeds through.

Scorpio Rising eyes are gateways. They are dangerous. Because they don’t just look—they strip. They see. They feel someone’s shame before the words reach the throat. You don’t need to ask questions. The answers come to you. You read body language like scripture. You sense fear like heat. And you move with the calculated silence of someone who’s been watched their entire life—and decided to do the same back, better.

You carry trauma like silk—elegantly, invisibly, wrapped around your hips and stitched into your shoulders. People assume you’re fine. They assume wrong. Your pain doesn’t show in breakdowns. It shows in detachment. Withdrawal. Obsession. In the way you crave intensity because peace is unfamiliar. You weren’t built for lukewarm. You were built for extremes.

𝙃𝙊𝙈𝙀 𝙄𝙎 𝙒𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙑𝙊𝙄𝘿 𝙄𝙎 — 𝘼𝙌𝙐𝘼𝙍𝙄𝙐𝙎 4𝙏𝙃 𝙃𝙊𝙐𝙎𝙀

Home never felt like home. It felt like an experiment. A lab where you were dissected emotionally or spiritually, even if not physically. You weren’t hugged. You were analyzed. Watched. Compared. Isolated. Told to be logical when your heart was screaming for connection. So you froze. You buried the ache in innovation, in rebellion, in cold detachment. You taught yourself that needing love made you weak.

But it didn’t. It made you human.

And now, as an adult, every relationship is a battle between the part of you that craves closeness and the part that would rather die than be dependent. You push away the very things you desire. You test people before you trust them. And if they fail (which most do), you vanish. Not out of cruelty. But because every disappointment reopens the wound you swore you’d buried a lifetime ago.

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀𝙍’𝙎 𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙋 — 𝙏𝘼𝙐𝙍𝙐𝙎 7𝙏𝙃 𝙃𝙊𝙐𝙎𝙀

But gods always have consorts. And a Scorpio Rising is no exception.

You attract the stable. The sensual. The patient. Those with warm hands and calm voices who look like safety—but who often turn into mirrors. Because your lovers may come gently, but they leave marked. You burn through their illusions. You expose their needs. You awaken their fears. And somewhere in the middle, they forget who they were before you.

But you? You remember. You always remember. Because every connection becomes a tattoo on your psyche. You don’t fall in love—you merge. You don’t date—you possess. You don’t want sex—you want access to the soul.

And when it ends (and it always ends) you grieve like a widow. Even if they’re still breathing. Because every love for you is a small death. And you are always both killer and mourner.

𝘾𝙍𝙊𝙒𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝙄𝙉 𝙁𝙇𝘼𝙈𝙀 — 𝙇𝙀𝙊 10𝙏𝙃 𝙃𝙊𝙐𝙎𝙀

But even gods rise from the pit. You weren’t meant to stay buried.

Your 10th house is Leo—the sign of kings, performers, royalty, legacy. You were born to rise into the light despite the darkness. Not to forget your pain—but to wear it like armor. Your past was your test. But your future? That’s your kingdom. And it’s built on the bones of every person who underestimated you.

You will be known. You must be known. Not for being soft or palatable—but for being unforgettable. Your career path isn’t about labor. It’s about impact. You’re here to provoke. To transform. To become the icon people whisper about but never fully understand. You’re the story that can’t be copied. The archetype that redefines what power looks like.

Scorpio Rising doesn't climb ladders. It burns them and builds a throne from the ashes.

𝙄𝙉 𝘾𝙇𝙊𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙂—𝘽𝙐𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙉𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙇𝙊𝙎𝙀𝙎

If you have this rising sign, then know this:

You are the doorway and the destroyer. The siren and the storm.

You will always be too much for most. That is the point.

You came here to live at the edge. To taste every venom and still smile. To be the wound and the healer.

To be feared, yes. But more importantly—to be respected.

To be remembered.

You are not here for comfort. You are here for evolution.

And if they cannot handle your depth?

Let them drown in the shallows...

© PhoenixRisingAstro, 2025. All rights reserved

[liliapleasesteponme]

Two queens in a cage of gold

agatha all along week, BONUS day 8, politics au / song lyric

politicians agatha + lilia x new politician!reader

Summary - in the political world, lilia and agatha as a duo are unmatched, they can either make you or break you, and you have to get on the right side

Warnings - politician AU, luxury power couple, seduction, reader as rival, powerplay, teasing, manipulation, smut, reader gets devoured (emotionally + sexually), inspired by Marina's Venus Fly Trap

Taglist - @mgruiz @multixfan @angeliccss @renyfisher @ilovepattilupone @tinnisamy @thegoddamnfeels @p2pecleanerwitheyes @sapphic-girlss @womankissersworld @delusionalforolderwomen @lilia-calderus-pet-goat @bravewithacapitalb @live-laugh-love-lupone @lotus-ignis @lemz378 @emilynissangtr @yxxndry @agathaallalongweek

They don’t make room for you.

You’re ushered into the charity gala like an afterthought, handed a glass of champagne and a donor list that’s already been picked over by bigger names. You’re new, still glittering with the shine of your first election win. A victory snatched by surprise and sheer charisma. They all underestimated you. You get the sense that these two women still do.

Agatha Harkness: Majority Leader, snake in diamonds.

Lilia Calderu: Head of Education Reform, soft-voiced and steel-spined.

Together, they’re the power couple of Capitol Hill gossip. Enemies in public. Something else in private.

You can feel them watching you from across the room.

You’re a threat. Not because you’re the most qualified—but because you’re young, ambitious, and unapologetically loud. Because you don’t play nice.

You catch Lilia’s eyes first. She smiles politely, as if she’s unaware of the way she’s sizing you up.

Then there’s Agatha. She doesn’t smile at all.

They don’t invite you to sit. You invite yourself.

Slide into their booth at the afterparty. Lace your fingers around the base of your glass. Let silence hang a moment too long.

"You two always this territorial," you say, "or is it just when someone younger comes into the room?"

Agatha lifts an eyebrow. “Are you calling us old, darling?”

“I’m calling you obvious.”

Lilia presses her lips together, fighting a smile. “You're either brave or foolish.”

“Can’t it be both?”

It becomes a game.

Meetings where Lilia brushes your hand under the table. Press events where Agatha cuts your speeches down—but can’t seem to stop glancing at your mouth.

One late night, all three of you stay after a committee vote. Thunder outside. The empty rotunda echoing with the sound of your heels.

They corner you by the railing. Lilia speaks first.

“People are starting to talk.”

“They always talk,” you murmur. “Let them.”

Agatha’s fingers skim your chin. She tips your face up.

“You play dirty, don’t you?”

Your voice is steady. “Only when I want to win.”

Lilia steps behind you. Agatha doesn’t move. You’re caged between two women who could ruin you—or make you untouchable.

“Then win us,” Lilia says quietly. “If you dare.”

You don’t move—not when Lilia presses closer, not when Agatha hooks a finger into the lapel of your blazer like she owns it.

The silence stretches. Heavy. Electric.

“I thought politicians were supposed to keep their hands to themselves,” you murmur, eyes flicking between them.

Agatha tilts her head. “That only applies when it’s not mutual.”

Lilia’s breath brushes your neck. “And you want this. Don’t you?”

You do. God, you do—but you’ve worked too hard to crumble easily.

“I want to know what happens when I take power back,” you whisper.

That makes Agatha smile. A sharp, dangerous smile. “Then you’re in the wrong company, sweetheart. We don’t give power. We take it.”

Her hand skims down your chest, deliberate but slow—like she’s testing how far you’ll let her go before cracking. Behind you, Lilia trails her nails along your arm, ghost-light. Her touch is gentler, but no less firm. A balance to Agatha’s bite.

“We could eat you alive,” Agatha murmurs.

Lilia hums. “But we’d rather savor you.”

You could leave. You should leave. But you stay rooted in place, heart hammering, your body buzzing with the thrill of being devoured slowly.

“Tell me what you want,” Agatha purrs. “Or we’ll decide for you.”

You lick your lips. “I want both of you. I want to win.”

Lilia steps in front of you again, the warm weight of her body brushing yours. “Then prove it,” she says. “Starting tonight.”

You don’t remember how the three of you made it to Agatha’s penthouse suite.

Only that it happened in a blur—elevator buttons, impatient hands, your spine pressing to glass as Lilia kissed you like it was a dare. Agatha’s voice was the sharp edge whispering filth in your ear. You hadn’t even taken off your coat before she told you to kneel.

Now, you’re on your back. Lilia straddles your hips in that expensive dress she didn’t bother to remove—just hitched it up, letting the silky fabric bunch at her waist. Her thighs squeeze around you, grounding you. She looks radiant, panting, lipstick smudged as she rolls her hips slowly, torturously, against the friction between you.

Above, Agatha leans over the bed, one hand tangled in your hair as she kisses you with tongue and teeth—like she’s trying to steal your breath and keep it for herself.

“Look at you,” Agatha rasps, pulling back just enough to drink you in. “Laying here like a gift. Like you were made to be shared.”

You moan as Lilia grinds down harder, finding a rhythm—deliberate, practiced, coaxing more and more sounds from you. Her voice is softer than Agatha’s, but it strikes just as deep.

“You love being between us,” Lilia murmurs. “Don’t you? One of us in your mouth, the other in your head. So full of us you can’t think.”

You nod. You’d beg if they asked. You’d worship them with hands and tongue and mouth until your throat was raw.

But you don’t have to. Agatha pushes two fingers into your mouth instead, pressing to your tongue as you moan around them.

“Sweet little politician,” she purrs. “Do you want to be our good girl now? Or should we make you work for it?”

“I—” You try to speak, but she presses down harder, commanding silence.

Lilia’s movements quicken. Her eyes flutter closed as she ruts against you. “Agatha,” she gasps, “they’re close—fuck—”

Agatha chuckles darkly and leans in again, nipping your lip before whispering:

“Come for us. Make a mess. And then you’re going to repay the favor.”

And you do—falling apart between them, your body arching, legs trembling, a cry breaking free from your chest that makes Agatha smirk and Lilia shiver.

But they don’t let you rest. Not long.

Because before your pulse has even calmed, Agatha is pulling you to your knees, thumb beneath your chin, voice syrupy-sweet and lethal.

“On your knees, baby,” she murmurs. “Time to show us just how much you meant that power play.”

Lilia’s already on the edge of the bed now, legs parted, one heel still dangling. Her flushed chest rises and falls fast, her eyes heavy-lidded as she pats her thigh.

“Come here,” she purrs. “Be a good little thing and worship.”

And with Agatha behind you, one hand stroking your back, and Lilia before you, slick and gasping, you finally understand:

You didn’t win tonight.

You surrendered.

[whoreforsexymen]

Hi, love! This request is for prompt #34 on your list ("That's not nearly desperate enough."). I saw a post saying how Jayce gives off major girl dad vibes, and needless to say I've been thinking about it relentlessly. Because you cannot tell me that man does not have some form of breeding kink

So I was thinking, potentially in the middle of sex or not— your choice, Jayce says one thing or another about wanting a baby. It's the reader who basically makes him beg for it. Not because they need convincing, but because they are simply a little shit. Thus comes the "That's not nearly desperate enough." Upon a fine amount of begging and those damn eyes of his

Then, depending on which route you go with how this ensues, perhaps the following smut of the reader showing Jayce some mercy. Thanks!

Beg | Jayce Talis

Pairings: Jayce Talis x Fem!Reader

Pronouns: None used, but AFAB anatomy descriptions!

Rating: NSFW, 18+, MDNI !! You WILL be blocked!

Word Count: 2.2k

Tags: Breeding Kink, Sub!Jayce (kinda), Power Bottoming (kinda), Fingering

Summary: You make Jayce beg to cum inside you :)

Notes: Prompt List, (Prompts used below)!! Decided to combine these two asks!! Enjoy, my lovelies <3

1. “Stop looking at me like that or else I’m gonna cum too fast.”

9. “That’s a bold decision, considering how I’m balls deep in you right now.”

34. “That’s not nearly desperate enough.”

“Stop looking at me like that, or else I’m gonna cum too fast…” Jayce’s voice was low, trembling with strain as his hips faltered against yours. The heat of his confession spilled into the air between you, thick and heavy, like the tension that coiled in his chest and knotted in his stomach. His breaths came in shallow gasps, his control slipping with every passing second under the weight of your gaze—sharp, hungry, and devastatingly unintentional.

You smirked, slow and wicked, as though savoring the power you held over him. Leaning in, your eyes locked onto his with a deliberate, sultry focus that made his pulse thunder in his ears. The intensity in your gaze was an artful torment, a silent promise to draw him out, to unravel him completely. His admission had emboldened you, as though he had handed you the exact weapon with which to ruin him. You tilted your head ever so slightly, the subtle motion laced with playful cruelty, shaking it softly, as if to say you have no plans to ever stop.

Jayce’s breath hitched as he bit down hard on his bottom lip, his last-ditch effort to stifle the tidal wave building within him. The heat radiating from your body, the way your lips curved into that knowing smile, the way your eyes burned into his soul—all of it was too much. His hands gripped at the sheets like a lifeline, his knuckles whitening with the effort it took to hold back. But there was no sanctuary here, no reprieve from the way you looked at him.

Your eyes—Gods, your eyes—they were his damnation and his salvation. They held a power over him that was almost supernatural, stripping him of every wall, every defense, leaving him raw and exposed in their glow. They spoke volumes without uttering a word, a language of seduction that rendered him powerless.

It wasn’t just the way you looked at him—it was what you looked at him with. That simmering desire, the cruel teasing, the unspoken promise that you wouldn’t stop until he faltered, or crumbled completely. It tested him, pushed him to limits he never thought existed, made his composure feel like a delicate, fragile thing.

And as the pit in his stomach burned hotter, as his muscles tensed and his restraint frayed to the brink, Jayce realized that no matter how hard he fought it, he wasn’t losing to you—he was giving himself over willingly. Piece by piece, shudder by shudder, your gaze was swallowing him whole, and he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

”That’s a bold decision, considering how I’m balls deep in you right now,” he managed to groan out, his voice thick with strain as his hips stammered against yours. Each thrust was a testament to his unraveling restraint, his body caught between fervent need and the thin threads of control. He drove into you with everything he had, every ounce of strength dedicated to holding back the inevitable—keeping the essence of his soul from spilling over and claiming you completely.

“Might not have enough time to pull out,” he whined, his voice trembling with hesitation. The words were a warning, but they came coated in something deeper, something darker—a want he couldn’t quite mask. The cracks in his resolve were widening, and beneath his deceiving cadence lay a silent plea for permission to let go, to give in to the primal urge clawing at his chest.

“Then don’t,” you said simply, your voice calm, steady, as if the words were inconsequential. As if they weren’t coated in such hefty meaning. You delivered them with a quiet finality, as though their weight were nonexistent—like they weren’t a succulent worm on a hook, the chain pulling him deeper into you.

But they were. They hit him with a force that stole the very breath from his lungs, his hips sputtering for the briefest moment before resuming their feverish pace. The simplicity of your words belied their gravity, and yet, he felt it. Felt the command, the invitation, the absolution in them. You weren’t just permitting his surrender—you were demanding it, and he knew he couldn’t refuse. Not when the heat of your body surrounded him, not when the depths of your voice ignited something cardinal within him. Something fundamental.

Jayce let out a guttural sound, a jumbled mix of restraint and surrender, as his body moved on instinct, his mind clouded by the smoke of a blaze you’d set in him. There was no hesitation left, no question of what would come next—only the inevitability of his complete and outright submission in your arms.

“I… I don’t think I heard you right…” Jayce muttered, his breath ragged and uneven. He searched your eyes, desperate to confirm if he had truly heard those words—or if his mind was playing tricks on him.

“I said,” you murmured, your voice low and deliberate, leaning in until your lips nearly brushed his.

“Don’t.”

The word hung between you like a spark, igniting the air. You captured his lips in a searing kiss, neediness bleeding into every movement. Your legs tightened around his waist, the press of your bodies perfectly attuned to the rhythm you shared. Muscles flexed and tensed in harmony, a symphony of heat and tenacity that left no room for doubt.

Jayce had heard you loud and clear.

There was no mistaking your words.

“Are you sure…?” he asked, his tone laced with uncertainty. He needed to know if this was just a momentary impulse driven by desire, or if you truly meant it.

You raised a brow, curious about his sudden doubt. Why now, of all times? You had never given him a reason to question you before.

“Yes. But,” you said, a sly smile playing on your lips, “you’ll have to beg for it.”

The words stopped him in his tracks, his confidence faltering. Jayce had never once let himself slip into submission during your most intimate moments. The idea of begging was as foreign to him as Undercity culture.

“Beg…?” he repeated, his voice shaking slightly. A low, guttural moan followed as you rolled your hips to meet one of his thrusts, driving him deeper inside you, a skillful way of coaxing him further and further to the edge of his pleasure.

“Fuck—” he groaned, the sound crude and wanting as he lost his composure quicker than he had found it. His head dipped, his damp forehead pressing into the curve of your neck, seeking solace in the warmth of your skin.

“Yes. Beg,” you demand, your legs tightening their grip around his hips until they tremble under the strain. He’s reaching a depth within you that feels otherworldly, leaving your vision speckled with stars.

“Beg me to let you fuck a life into me,” you command, your voice a mix of authority and unrefined desire.

Jayce’s head snaps up, his gaze locking onto yours with a flash of realization. The unspoken challenge in your eyes—now or never—spurs him forward. Determination floods his features, transforming him into a man with the relentless resolve of someone who has just uncovered the treasure of a lifetime.

Jayce bit down on the inside of his lip, the hesitation lingering for only a cursory moment. This wasn’t a time for half-measures; it had to be all or nothing. Testing the waters now wasn’t an option—not when everything hinged on this.

The thought of you, brimming with his very essence, the force that gave life, shaped flesh, and coursed through veins, sent his mind spiraling. His muscles quivered, his hips ablaze from the unyielding drive he poured into them. Each movement was unyielding, a cycle of sharp thrusts and aching retractions, repeated with merciless precision.

“Nghh– fuck– please.” The words spilled from his lips, raw and desirous, betraying the composure he struggled to maintain.

A laugh bubbles out of you at his first attempt, the sound shaking and breaking as it’s overtaken by the relentless rhythm of his thrusts—each one harder and faster than the last.

“That’s… not nearly desperate enough,” you manage to tease, though your voice wavers, the confidence you’d mustered teetering under the intensity of his pace.

Jayce’s response is a whimper, low and raw, as his lips find your ear. He presses a kiss there, followed by a gentle nip at your earlobe, his breath warm and ragged.

“Please—fuck—please, my love,” he moans, his words trembling with need. The sound of him like this—a rare vulnerability, inherently submissive—sends a jolt through you, igniting something unfamiliar and electrifying.

“I want… No, I need to drench your cunt with my cum until it takes. Until you’re walking around our house, belly all big and round with our baby inside. The baby I put there. The baby I fucked into you.” His gasps grow louder, his chest heaving as his heart pounds, racing to keep up with the demands of his body. You feel every beat, every pulse, as he clings to you, desperate to maintain the rhythm.

“Please, my love. Please, oh please let me fuck this baby into you. Let me fuck it nice and deep into you. Let me fill you full of my cum and watch it drip out of you so I can fuck it back in over and over again.” When his cry breaks the air, it’s raw and guttural, his fingers digging into the sheets so tightly that they slip free from the mattress beneath him.

“I need it, my love. I need it so fucking bad,” he cries out again, his voice breaking as he sinks his teeth into the curve of your shoulder—a futile attempt to temper the overwhelming tension consuming him.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he pleads, each word punctuated by desperate whines that blend with the raw sound of skin meeting skin.

You can’t hold back your own cries anymore; the relentless rhythm of his thrusts shatters your composure. He’s undeniably desperate now—there’s no question.

“Gods! Jayce! Fuck! Yes!” you scream, your head pressing deeper into the satin pillow beneath you. Your back arches instinctively, curving to meet him as he slams into that exquisitely sensitive spot, over and over again, driving you to the edge of reason.

Jayce knew you were getting as close as he was, but he was always ever-most determined to make you cum before him, or with him.

His teeth leave your shoulder, and he lifts slightly, just enough to slip an arm between your bodies. As his fingers find their mark, Jayce’s gaze locks onto yours. His mouth hangs open, his eyes dark and blown wide, filled with raw, unfiltered desire. Pure, unadulterated lust radiates from him as his touch pushes you closer and closer to the precipice.

He brushes the pads of his fingers against your clit, quickly and effortlessly rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud. He could feel your walls clenching in response, desperate to milk his needy cock dry. Desperate to coax every drop his balls could spare.

Your breath quickens, chest rising and falling in a desperate rhythm, aching to press against his once more—but his arm remains a firm, teasing barrier. His fingers move with a slow, deliberate intent, tracing and circling your clit until pleasure borders on the unbearable.

Just as the sensation threatens to tip into numbness, release strikes like a missile—blazing, unrelenting, precise. It shatters through you, sharp and all-consuming, like a rock splintering glass. Your muscles lock, your body taut with the force of it, nails sinking deep into the firm, heated flesh of his arms.

Jayce’s thrusts grow erratic, each snap of his hips losing precision as desperation takes hold. Hisses and curses spill from his lips, laced with ragged gasps as he pounds into you with fevered urgency.

He’s close—so unbearably close—your walls gripping him like a vice, clenching and pulsing around his throbbing cock. The way you twitch and squeeze him sends his mind spiraling, pleasure coiling tight in his core, spinning his head like a top.

“Fuck,” he groans, voice breaking as he drives deep one final time. His cock pulses, spilling hot, thick cum inside you, filling you to the brim. Strands of it spurt and pool within, coating your cervix as he shudders through the intensity of his orgasm.

He stays buried inside you for a few lingering moments, your breaths falling into sync as the haze of pleasure slowly fades. His body stills, chest rising and falling as he collects himself, savoring the way you feel wrapped around him.

When you finally begin to settle, he pulls out—but before you can catch your breath, his hand drifts lower. Two fingers push deep into your slick heat, thrusting slow and deliberate, gathering every drop of his release and pushing it back inside you.

A cry escapes your lips, hands grasping blindly at the sheets as the pad of his thumb finds your clit once more, circling with torturous precision. Your head lifts, eyes locking with his—dark, hooded, full of wicked intent. A smirk tugs at his lips, lazy yet hungry, as his fingers drive deeper, curling just right, pulling another wave of pleasure from your already spent body. He opens his mouth to speak once more.

“I want a girl.”

[616ioi]

❛ #1:52! Sakamoto days.

────────── to have someone you can never fully understand is the worst feeling .ᐟ.ᐟ

⤿ pairings. shishiba x gn reader

⤿ contents. no exact dom/sub roles, slight voice kink, more of a drabble, testing things out here, angst. this contains slightly mature content, read at your own discretion.

⤿ thoughts. i yearn for a man like shishiba teehee 👴 he would so have a lover that he's not yet over, or will ever be over.

Shishiba feels like a challenge. A not so normal guy with a normal relationship with sex. But there's ooonneee tiny problem — he struggles to get hard.

He feels ashamed, though he hates to admit it, but it's normal. He is not the type of man who runs wild at the sight of tight fitted clothes, or a seductive stare.

He is not the type of man who does a one night stand or friends with benefits. Undeniably so, shishiba wants a connection. He desires one.

The very few, and short lived relationships he's had ended up on a neutral stance. He wasn't enough to satisfy them.

They didn't understand how embarrassing it is for him. To show up and present his 'weak game' as he couldn't get it up. His ears would burn as the last girl had nearly teared up, thinking that he didn't find her attractive.

That wasn't the case.

Though, he didn't think it was a problem until he decided to watch porn. Thinking perhaps I haven't explored much. Not even that. In fact, it seemed to turn him away from sex. The videos — it repulsed him.

They had no care. Where was the love? Why was it always just sexual.

Shishiba would sigh and exit off the site, jaw set. He's embarrassed to think this would set him off.

Off to bed he goes. Then the cycle continues. Wakes up, breakfast time, work (another normal day of killing, investigating, fighting, and following orders. Maybe he'll stop for a coffee break with osaragi. She's nice company), return home, oh, another work call, leave, eat a snack. Again work.

Work, work, and more work.

This is the life he has chosen to continue to live. There is no regret. How can he regret now that he's gone so far?

But then, something pops until his head. Not something, someone.

It's you.

Lovely, little [name].

The one with the softest cheeks that he oh, so dearly presses kisses into. The one with a voice that would whisper sweet things to him. The very one that he prides himself in loving, regardless of how things turned out.

He left, you accepted his parting and moved on. Even if you're with another, you are loving and loyal and he can never take that away from you.

But he wishes, for just one last time, you would run your fingers through his blond hair and hold him so gently. Maybe tease him for the light red that stretches from his ears down to his nape.

Maybe help him remove his coat as he gets ready to wind down. Then, you'd press the sweetest kiss to the tip of his ear, relishing in the fact that you've made him blush.

He would fumble with his tie, muttering something about dinner. The date you had earlier that evening did nothing to satisfy you so of course, he isn't going to let his lover sleep on an empty stomach.

You two didn't live together. You didn't even know the location of his home. Heck, not even his full name. Yet, that didn't seem to worry you.

Shishiba was dead set to not let you in too deep. A given name can be as powerful as a mighty god striking down a puppy with thunder.

You didn't understand what your voice does to him.

The time he showed up at your apartment door, all wet and covered in rain. Worry crossing every inch of his typical nonchalant demeanor. His umbrella was broken into bits and... was that blood on the handle?

His shoulders sag with relief. Before he seemed to return to his usual self, but you knew something was different. The change was so subtle, quicker than a split second, not even the trained eye of an assassin would catch it.

You weren't able to ask if he was okay when his lips parted to make one final request; take care of yourself.

He knew when the realization hit you. You looked at him with the saddest eyes.

He's breaking up with you.

You didn't want to accept it at first.

Who would? It's a trashy ending to a relationship that seemed to blossom from nothing.

'I want to make you so happy. To cook with you and help you out on bad days. To be there for you.' Would he be a horrible person if he admitted that his suit pants tighten upon hearing that.

To admit that he got hard when he thought of a lovely life with you. Where you would greet him with a smile after a hard day and all his worries disappeared. Where he'd kiss and caress you as you slept so softly against him.

Where you'd tell him how handsome he is and how he makes you feel so good.

That's the simple thing that got him going.

It was the love.

'You can't just leave without an explanation!' But he did.

And that's one regret that plagues his every waking hours.

[butterflywordsmith]

BatFamily as a ruling Pantheon: Gods of Gotham

Bruce/Batman:

Names/Epithets - Brix, Father Willow, The Dark Knight, The Night King, Guardian God, Crusader, Phantom Lord, Saint Brix of Gotham, Father of Gotham, Master of Caves, God of Justice, Comforter of Innocents, King of Shadows, Watcher, God of the Vigil, White Eye, Whose Voice Rumbles Like Thunder

Patronages- Protection, Adoption and Orphans, Secrets, Revelations, Detectives, Night time, Mercy, Charity, Wealth, Justice, Travel, Dual Identities, Seduction, Mentally Ill People, Gadgetry, Martial Arts, vigilantism, Insomniacs, First Watch, Alleys

Symbols/Attributes- bats, cowls, armors, throwing blades, the colors Black and Grey, gold coins

Offerings/Prayers- usually take place in caves and at night for rituals. He does not ask his followers for sacrifces of their money, food, blood or anything of the like. In fact, such a thing offends this deity. Brix is a generous god and a fiercly protective one. He would not see mortals go without for him to provide protection or enact justice on their behalf. He doesn't want anything material from his followers because he loves the Gothamite People unconditionally. So what does he ask for when they petition him? Not much usually. However, every now and then comes a mortal with... well, a past. One they aren't proud of. All he asks is that they confess and commit themselves to a path of redemption. Even better if they perform charitable acts in his name. That doesn't mean he is an easy god to work with. In fact, he's often blunt and critical in his judgements. And for those seeking to learn his mysteries in ways of combat, the initiation process is grueling and brutal. His monks and priests are among the most feared in the world for this reason. He will also grant special blessings to those who can tell him something he doesn't already know. He is wrathful and violent toward those who threaten the Gothamite civilization. He enjoys when his followers bring things for him to give to the other members of the pantheon as his children tend to enjoy gifts. He is often at odds with other gods within the city- particularly the Demon Clown God. In times of great peril, lanterns that light in the shape of a bat in the sky will summon him instantly.

Dick/Nightwing:

Names/Epithets- Rikhart, Rik, The First Robin, He of the Mantle, The Blue Feathered God, The First Titan, First Son, The Gray Son, Blood of Bludhaven, Prince of Two Cities, Blue Bird Prince, The Night Wing, The Trapeze God, Rope Walker

Patronages- Circuses, Acrobats, Robins, Fraternities, First Borns, Strategy, Peace, Joy, Gatherings, Unity, Leaders, Beauty, Performers, Compassion, Romance

Symbols/Attributes- The Colors Blue, Red and Black for his older form/ the colors red, green and yellow for his child form. Fighting staffs, Torches, Batons, birds, mirrors (for vanity), tents, tightropes, nests.

Offerings/Prayers- You might make offerings to Rickart at the tops of towers, or you can make a tent to commune with him. He's typically a joyful god although his temper may strike if he feels volatile. His feelings toward Brix may be positive or negative with any shift in the wind so be careful to do proper divination if you plan to invoke father and son together. It can be incredibly powerful energy for better or worse. Same if you plan to invoke Rickart with any of his brothers. Know that if you require the protection of the entire pantheon, however, they will all put their differences aside for the sake of Gothamites- and Bludhavenites in his case. The best way to earn Rickart's favor is to perform for him. Bonus points and extra blessings if you have already proven yourself capable of handling workings with one of his brother gods or worse- his father. This particular god will manifest a physical form to lay with mortals but it must be an act done and offered willingly if the mortal is impressive in both beauty and skill. Most people come to Rickart before the others as he is known as "The Nice One". Make no mistake, his kindness is by no means weakness. He is kind because he can afford to be. His priests are among the most loyal and devoted and he has temples in Gotham and Bludhaven where performances are known to happen regularly.

Jason/Redhood:

Names/Epithets- Iasonas, The Phoenix God, The Rebellious Prince, Raging God, The Heart of Gotham, He Who Bleeds Eternally, Lord of Thieves, The Accuser, Healer of Souls, Dual Bladed One, Red Hooded One, Iasonas White Lock, Master of the Pistol, Severer of Heads, The Executioner, The Poet, Master of the Word, Blood Scribe

Patronages- Necromancers, Near Death Experiences, Straight up death experiences, Death, Judgment, Retribution, Writing and Literature, Libraries, Graveyards, Funerals, Books, Theaters, Poor people, Drug Addicts, Prostitutes, Thieves, Magic, Torture Victims, Runaways, The Homeless, Automatic Writing, Mediums

Symbols/Attributes - Guns, Pens, Books, Hoods/Masks, Dual Blades, Grave Markers, Coffins, the colors red and black. Do not invoke the red, yellow and green of his younger self it will only anger him. Typewriters, Resurrection Sigil

Offerings/Prayers- You may make offerings to this god in graveyards, cemeteries or mosoleums. You may also pray to him in libraries and schools. He is a complex god, often oversimplified to his more violent traits. While he may respond neutrally to this, his favorite prayers are those made in the libraries. If you wish to be proficient as a writer or to discover knew information through sacred texts, he will help you. Appeal to him by reading him something you wrote or from an excerpt of something commonly known to be his favorite. For more violent petitions, you may make your case to him and ask this God to avenge you in the event of wrong doing against you. He will act swiftly. Be certain that you want your enemies dead if you choose to petition this god for such things and be aware an offering of blood may be required. He may also assist in Resurrection. He has a complex relationship with his family of deities. Do divination when invoking him with any of them but usually Damasus is a safe bet. Iasonas has a soft spot for poor, needy and generally in distress people. This god will not abandon you. Just be mindful of his violent methods. He may also possess his more advanced followers to write through them if they possess the gift of automatic writing and his priests are often highly skilled scribes and mages as he is Magic itself.

Tim/Red Robin:

Names/Epithets- Timotheos, The Cardinal God, Red One, Lord of Genius, Prince of Reason, The Observer, The Judge, Master of Principle, Commander of Order, Once Clown Twice Bird, The Abandoned One, Lord of Substitutions, The Follower, Rescuer, Sacrifice God, Tech Lord, Gotham's Mourner, The Grand Architect, Keeper of Record, Lord of Time, The First Prophet

Patronages- Inventors, Businesses, Technology, Neglected Children, Teachers, Martyrs, Spies, Photographers, Sculptors, Record Keepers, Archives, Cleanliness, Hierarchies, Government, Bisexuals, Mourning, Architecture, Historians, Time Travellers, Xenophiles, Artificial Intelligence, Museums, Divination and Prophecy

Symbols/Attributes- the colors red, black and yellow. bo staffs, keyboards, capes, gavels, wreaths, flowers, hourglass, clocks, temple symbol, pillars, compasses, maps, cameras, sculptor tools, cardinals, vehicles, Tarot Cards, Bones, Winter, Cycles, The Seasons

Offerings/Prayers- There are many places and ways one might commune with Timotheos: clock towers, ancient ruins, architectural marvels which have stood the test of time, in computer programs that are plugged into Gotham's magical energetic grid, in Museums etc. Your safest bet is one of his temples, though. He is a calculating and reasonable god, albeit a rigid one. Very set in his ways, that one. This god has a distinct set of right and wrong and yet- he can be quite mysterious in that he often acts in ways which do not make sense to others, even his fellow gods- usually because he knows something they dont. While it may seem this deity is an adherent of "my way or the high way", he does feel immense compassion for Gothamites and particularly those who feel abandoned. He was once a lonely god and will strive to provide support to those in need. To gain his favor, providing him with artifacts from far off places, building temples of beauty and durability are a good start. He enjoys when his followers keep his altars pristine. His priests are diverse. Some are able to slip through time and do work for him. Others are prophets who share visions with Gothamites who will hear. Others are Spies within historic secret societies deeply involved in government agencies. You never see his devotees coming and he likes it that way. He does enjoy flowers here and there but they must be removed when they begin to wilt or lose fragrance. Once blessed, dried petals may be reused by devotees for cleansing spiritual baths. When angered, he may change the weather or throw the seasons out of wack to express his displeasure with the mortal world. He may set it to rights when appeased. He is perhaps the brother god with the least conflict with Brix, their Father.

Damian/Robin:

Names/Epithets- Damasus, Blood of Brix, The Illustrator, Prince of Assassins, Sadīq Al-Hayawānāt or Friend of the Animals, The Half Foreign God, Beast of Gotham, The Supreme Artiste, Sword Master, Prince of the World, Child of the Wind/ Whose Mother is like Wind, Inheritor of the Earth, The Painting God, The Child Who Never Was and Always Will Be, Canvas Born, Healer of Harms, The Last Betrayer, The Redeemer, God of Truth, The Cultivator

Patronages- Animals, Asassins, Painters, Illustrators, Foreigners, Combat, Swordsmanship, Children Born Nonconsensually, Blood Children, Child Assassins, Priestshoods, Secret Societies, War, Vegetarians, Doctors/Healers, Farmers and Agriculture, Nature

Symbols/Atrributes- Swords, Dogs, Cats, Robins, Trees, a Wind Sigil. Green, Yellow, Red, Grey and Black. Paint Brushes, Pencils, Blank Canvases, Pottery, Hieroglyphs, Scriptures, Cows, Turkeys, Fruits, Crops, baskets, wheat, pollen

Offerings/Prayers- You may find him in the trees, in the fields, in the mountains- anywhere you may find animal life... you may even whisper his name to the winds and he will hear. His arrival is swift and he will demand your reasons for summoning. Do not waste this deity's time or the consequences will be brutal and swift as his blade. The love he shows toward the beasts of the Earth is legendary. If you wish to earn his favor you may offer him a new pet. He bestows blessings upon those who rescue and protect animals in his name. Many sanctuaries are named for him. His name is often invoked when putting injured animals out of their misery with prayers that their souls be kept under his care. He appreciates The Arts and will also accept artworks and paints, canvases, pencils, parchment etc. You may present him offerings of drink in ornate pottery. He is complex like his family and will respond differently to being invoked with them. Divination prior to invocation with other members of the family is a must. However, your safest bet is to invoke him with his brother, Iasonas. This god refuses to lie and will punish those who attempt to decieve him. His anger takes the form of tornados and hurricanes. Harsh as he may be, he only kills when he feels fully justified and with intention- remembering the guilt of having once killed Rikhart on accident, angering Brix, before Iasonas aided him in resurrecting their brother and restoring their family. As such, he has since also been a healing god and will provide healing to the sick and ailing. His sigil is at the entrance of most hospitals and many of those thought to have uncurable ailments have been healed in his main temple where feeding the cats is common practice. His priests are notorious for being highly skilled combatants. His devotees often include dog trainers, whose canines are feroocious in battle. Horseback riders are also included among his followers. One time, someone betrayed their oath to Damasus so severely and disrespectfully that he caused them to be trampled to death in a stampede. Do NOT offer this deity meat as it offends him. You may prepare cooked vegetable dishes, offer raw fruits, nectars, and cruelty free sweets. He keeps Gotham's crops fruitful for this purpose- answering the prayers of farmers. He often requires Timotheos to assist him with this as his older brother controls the seasons.

Cassandra/Black Bat:

Names/Epithets- Kekasmai, Kassandra, Moon Princess, Mistress of Silence, Goddess of Perception, Lady of Illusion, The Dissolver, The Preserver, Sweetness of Brix, The Unseen One, The Swift Bat, Muse of Gotham, Mistress of Song, Dancing Lady, Feasting One, The Shadow, Mistress of the Tides, Our Lady of Reflection, Princess of Promise, One with the Sight

Patronages- First Responders, Psychologists, Neurodivergents, Nonverbal people, child abuse survivors, Child Soldiers, Liars, Comedians, Sports, Feasts, Restaurants, Cooks, Memory, Mimicry, Learning and Students, Oaths, Intuition, Water, Telepaths, Empaths, Swimmers. Dancers- and by extension, music/musicians. Rehabilitation. Daughters and Sisters, Sororities. Martial Arts, Astronomers, Astrologers

Symbols/Attributes- A bat symbol, the color black, the Moon, Mirrors (for reflection), Dolphins, Whales, comedy and tragedy masks, music notes, a lyre, the lyra constellation, monkeys, spiders, eyes, crystal balls, stars, telescopes

Offerings/Prayers- This goddess is perhaps the most elusive when it comes to gaining a direct audience. She rarely strays from her father's side- and usually communing with her means invoking Brix first. The Father of Gotham is rather protective of his only daughter. Not that she is incapable- in fact, she is perhaps among the most powerful of her siblings- in combat at least, and capable of causing great storms and tsunamis when angered although it is rare. She is not easily decieved either and can sniff out the true intentions of any who call upon them- which Brix finds incredibly helpful when it comes to dealing with Gods from other pantheons. She has more priestesses than priests but she welcomes any devotees who devote themselves to the Way of the Bat. The pantheon is undoubtedly a family, albeit a turbulent one. And this highlights her unyielding loyalty to her father. She takes oaths quite seriously for this reason and will condemn those who break them. Unlike her father, however, she does accept material offerings for her own benefit. Bowls of purified water and candles which blow out when she arrives. She is also a hungry goddess. Feed her well in her sacred spaces: meats, cheeses, breads, vegetables, fruits, anything of the like. In the event that you manage to get an audience with her alone, be warned that she may not be as restrained with her energy. She is, at least the more patient one after Rikhart and will listen and understand the best. This has made her a great mediator, not only within the pantheon, but between it and others. If your first appeal was denied and you felt it was unjust, a direct audience and proof of wrongdoing with her will usually solve the issue. But if the initial denial was jusified, she enacts twice the punishment for the insolence.

Duke/Signal:

Names/Epithets- Dux, Lord of the Day, The Sun Prince, The Uniter, Lord of Revolution, He Who Answers, Ghost Prince, Master of Light and Shadow, The Star of Gotham, He Upon Whom Gotham Rises and Sets, The Greeting and Farewell God, Morning and Evening Star, The Shining One

Patronages- Revolutions, Uprisings, Puzzles and Riddles, metas of Gotham, Films, Codes, Leadership, Militias, Guerilla Fighters, Rebels, Protection, Liberation movements, Freedom Fighters, Chess Players, Pool Players, Mathematics, Games, Electricity and Electricians, Lights of all kinds, Electric Storms and Lightning

Symbols/Attributes- The Sun, the color yellow, nunchakus, puzzle boxes, rubix cubes, mathematical symbols, an upside down question mark, a light bulb, a thunderbolt, sun dial

Offerings/Prayers- 90% of the time this god is only active during the day. When the Sun is still in the sky is the optimal time to build an altar and commune with him. Or you can visit one of his sun temples! The only times you may experience him at night is during a storm where the lightning is abundant. It means he is communing with other members of the Pantheon and can be reached- but that also requires a lightning rod and everyone doesn't have that on hand. Otherwise, you'll have to wait until morning. Dux is incredibly formidable as the sole protector of Gotham during the day, earning him high regard from the rest of his pantheon. He is perfect to summon as a group or army if you can convince him that your cause is worthy. He will always lead you to victory. He's also perfect for cracking codes and solving Mysteries and deeply enjoys puzzles and riddles. If you wish to offer him something, you may give him a riddle to solve and add to his collection or you must satisfy him by solving a riddle he has for you. You may also gift him puzzles. One offering he wished he recieved more is glass lamps in various colors, so his devotees will not be left in the dark in his absence during the night time hours. He's a god of ambiance. Win against him in chess and recieve a blessing! His devotees and priests tend to be large groups of liberationists. They have power in numbers and he has the most direct devotees.

Alfred💖:

Names/Epithets- Ælfræd, The God Keeper, Strength of Brix, The Attending God, Warmth of Gotham, Lord of Shelter, Master of the Hearth, God of Manners, One Whose Aim is True, God of Rest, With Whom Gods and Men Recover, God of Devotion, The Elder God, Master of the Needle, Father of Fathers, The Mender

Patronages- Advisors, Public Servants, Butlers, Adoptive Fathers, Hunters, Snipers, Surgeons, Paramedics, Physical Therapists, Combat Medics, Actors, Security, Fidelity, Domestic Arts and Sciences, Home and Hearth, Etiquette, Fire, Shooting Ranges, Property, Communications, Disabled People, Textiles and Sewing, Knitting

Symbols/Atrributes- Two Rifles crossed in an X. A white glove, a flame, a tea leaf, a Silver Spoon, Feathers, a sewing needle

Offerings/Prayers- This is a God who mainly attends to Brix and his children. However, there are people in the world who have need of him- mainly because they are much like him. So, the best place to gain audience with him is your very own home. He is the only god it is recommended to do this with. It's better if you have a fire place but a simple candle will work as well. You may offer him tea and show him proper hospitality when his presence enters your home. Manners are very important to Ælfræd and he will not tolerate rudeness. Be mindful, lest the fire you used to summon him somehow cause a housefire. That said, should you come with a worthy request, he is normally a last resort to getting the rest of the pantheon on board. If you perform domestic duties well and the space is to his liking he will bless your home with protection. His devotees range from housewives to a secret order of butlers and medical professionals who have intelligence affiliations.

Part 2

[jam3sacaster]

need a full length daddy kink smut for rupert like i need water

thank u bestie!

“Say my name.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Suggestion by this sweet anon 🫶🏽

18+ FANFIC / HEAVY smut. Reader character aged at 21. Hope you enjoy! 🩷

A dense sheet of fog descended over Penscombe Court just after midnight, a celestial body of enchanting stars illuminating the twilight sky. Tucked cosily in your joint bedroom, you examined yourself in the mirror — tendrils of cinnamon brown hair groomed into tight ringlets and dressed in a thin dove grey cami nightdress. Delicate lace lined the hemline of your cleavage, and decorating the split hem up to your pelvis, completed with a small grey bow in the middle of your chest. “Angel, you look far too disturbing.” Rupert growls in that irresistible, husky tone as he emerges from the en suite, dressed only in a plush charcoal black dressing gown.

“Are you going to let me unwrap you?” You ask, slipping onto the black satin sheets of his majestic four-poster bed and crawling towards him. Rupert stood above you, the ties of his dressing gown already undoing themselves. He didn’t respond, but allowed you to tug at the ties, revealing his hard cock, pre-cum glistening at the tip. “Say my name.” He instructed, stroking the top of your head as you gazed up at him with lustful, widened eyes. “Please, daddy. I need you so badly.” You whimpered. Grunting his approval, you swirl your tongue around his tip, relishing in his pleasurable exhales. “Don’t make me beg, angel.” He chastised.

Spurred by your carnal desire to please him, you took his girth into your mouth, forcing his cock to the back of your throat and resisting the urge to gag. “Good girl.” Rupert praised, stroking his fingers through your tresses. Tears escaping from the corner of your eyes, he dug his fingers further into your hair — gripping tightly. “Tell Daddy how bad you want it.” He muttered, his core unwinding at your captivating expression. Through a stuffed mouth, you words left as muffled mutterings, not wanting to remove him even for a second. With his hands thoroughly sunk into your scalp, he thrusted into you at a frightening pace, moaning seductively at every single one of your gags — the tip of his enlarged cock brushing past your tonsils with every thrust.

“Do you want to be seriously naughty, angel?” Rupert questioned, pulling himself from your mouth and watching you wipe your drool away with your svelte arm. “Mhm hmm.” You nod hesitantly. “Lay down.” He instructed, staring in anticipation as you lay on your stomach, waving your behind towards him. Rupert growled under his breath as he hiked your dress up, rolling his eyes in pleasure at your softly-shaven bare arse. The silence was unbearable as he paused, but shivered with delight as he licked from the length of your clit to your arse, leaving a glistening trail behind him. “Tell me you want it, angel.” He reaffirmed, already aligning himself in preparation. “I want it, daddy. I want to be a good girl for you.” You moaned through gritted teeth.

That was all he needed. Hesitantly at first, he forced his way into your rear end, taking a sharp intake of breath. You yelped in delight, instantaneously smacking your hand across your mouth. “Fuck, you’re too big.” You exclaimed, grasping desperately at the silken bed sheets as his tempo increased, stretching your hole. “God, I’m going to make such a mess of you.” He chuckles to himself.

The gloriously clenched constriction of your arse around his cock proved all too much. His thrusts grew frantic, and his moans were indicative of his desire for relief. “Are you gonna cum for me, daddy?” You beg, backing onto him despite the overwhelming sting. “Daddy’s going to fill you up.” Rupert breathed out, unleashing ropes of his cum inside you accompanied by a crescendo of thunderous moans.

Filled up and clambering on fragile limbs, you slowly flipped yourself onto your back, not wanting a single drop to exit your body. “Good girl.” Rupert praised you once more. You had behaved so well.

[holylulusworld]

One Summer Night - Kinktober 13

Summary: You meet a charismatic man at the farmer’s market.

Pairing: Cult!Leader Thor Odinson x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: seduction, desire, smut, unprotected sex, needy reader, public sex/kinda public claiming, voyeurism

Square 3 filled for @anyfandomangstbingo: Square 3: Cult AU

Kink: Sex Cult

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

The first time you saw him he walked through a field of yellow wildflowers. He looked like he was out of this world. Chest bare, barefoot and his shaggy hair blowing freely in the wind.

He looked up at the blue sky, and let the sun kiss his skin.

For a moment you watched the man until more people joined him.

Mostly women who looked like they were hypnotized by his beauty, or something else. You didn’t know. 

Eyes glued to the man you watched him run one hand over his naked chest while the other gently touched the flowers.

You dropped your gaze the moment his eyes found yours. He smiled and plugged a flower to tug it behind his ear.

It looked like he was watching you and your heart thundered in your chest. He walked toward you, as your feet felt like you were frozen to the ground.

The spell he held over you was broken when your aunt called your name and grabbed your arm. 

“Y/N, don’t you ever get involved with that…hippie. He’s no good and means trouble. Everyone knows he’s the leader of a sex cult or shit.”

“Sex cult?” you glanced at the beautiful man standing only a few feet away from you. He smirked and studied your face as your aunt tried to drag you away. “Stay away from my niece. You won’t get her too!”

He raised his hands in surrender, making things worse for you. Your eyes dropped to his abs, leading you down to the prominent erection he didn’t even try to hide.

“Little wildflower, if you are ever free of that woman, come see me,” he spoke to you. You shuddered and clutched your hands to your sides.

It felt like his words went straight to your heart, running through your body to reach a much lower region… 

“Y/A/N, it’s the farmer’s market, not an enemy base,” you rolled your eyes as your aunt scrunched up her nose. Unlike you, she never liked spending time at the farmer’s market. “How about I get everything we will need for the pie festival, and you can go home and rest?”

“My bench in the garden is waiting for me,” she considered your suggestion. Your aunt feels responsible for you, even though, you are an adult, and a grown woman. 

“Alright,” you clapped your hands. “I didn’t come here to spend my vacation with you to sit around and do nothing. Let me handle this.”

“Don’t stay here too long,” your aunt said. “Uh-and don’t talk to strangers. If that bastard shows up, ignore him. Do not get too close to him. He comes here every summer, looking for God knows what.”

“Auntie,” you sighed but smiled at her. “I’m a grown woman, you know.”

“You’re still the little girl I raised,” she tutted and patted your cheek. “Stay out of trouble, young lady.”

You grinned. She won’t ever change, and you love her for it.

“Wildflower,” you felt his presence before you heard his voice call for you. The man in the wildflower field suddenly stood right in front of you. 

That day, he was wearing an unbuttoned button-up shirt. He was still barefoot and looked like the hippie your aunt called him, but you’d call the shirt progress.

“Mr.,” frowning you realized you didn’t know his name. “Sorry, I don’t know your name,” feeling your cheeks heat up you let him take your hand to press a soft kiss to your knuckles.

That feeling overwhelmed you once again. This time it went straight to your lower half, making you soak your panties.

“Names are only...,” he cupped your chin to tilt your head, humming as your eyes fluttered shut, “for the people with no fantasy. You can call me anything you want to.”

“I prefer a name,” you murmured but allowed him to stroke your cheek with his knuckles. “Please…”

“Thor, little wildflower. That’s the name the immortals gave me when they created me to bring sun, love, and new life to this world.”

You giggled at his words. Your aunt was right. Thor did sound like the leader of some cult. But this didn’t stop you from dreaming of offering your body and soul to this man.

“My name is Y/N.”

“No. Your name is Sif, my Goddess and future mother of my children. We will bring love and hope to this rotten world, my little wildflower.”

“No…I’m Y/N.” You tried to open your eyes, but it was so hard to fight the warmth on your cheek from his hand.

“You are my fate,” he murmured as he dipped his head to press his lips to yours. Your eyes snapped open, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, almost pouncing on Thor to taste more of him. “Come with me and meet my companions. They can hardly wait to get to know you.”

“I can’t,” you whispered. “My aunt is waiting for me.” You looked up to Thor, the personalized sin. “She warned me to get involved with you.”

“Of course, she did,” he purred against your lips. “You’ll come to me, sooner than later. I’ve chosen you to become my mate for the coming eons…”

“Y/N, what’s wrong with you today?” Your aunt watched you poke the pie on your plate. “Are you not hungry? Do you want to go home?”

“Did you ever feel deeply for a person you just met?” You glanced at your aunt before dropping your eyes to your hands. “With your heart, body, and soul?”

“What did that man do to you?” She shook her head. “Please don’t tell me you fell for him too. He ruined so many girls. Every summer he comes over to our little town like a force of nature. He seduces women here and there only to disappear until the next summer.”

“He didn’t do a thing. We didn’t do a thing,” you spluttered. “I was wondering if you felt like this too when you were younger. He means trouble, so much I know. But I can’t help it. I’m drawn to him.”

You met Thor again only a few days later. This time he came to your aunt’s garden and talked you into following him to the wildflower field.

Walking next to him, fingertips touching the yellow wildflowers you tried not to think too much.

“Come with me. The moon is right,” he said, grabbing your hand to guide you toward a secret place.  A spot you never set foot in before.

Thor led you toward a wild of pink orchids, protected by large oaks. 

In the middle of the field stood a statue. It looked like a God. Its right arm stretched towards heaven, the other one holding a large hammer. 

“Where are we?” you whispered as his companions stepped toward the statue. They all kneeled and placed a pink orchid to the statue’s feet, mumbling words you didn’t understand. “Thor, what are they doing?”

Your eyes grew wide when the women and men stripped each other bare. “Just watch my little wildflower. And if you are ready, we will join them.”

Gasping you had to watch them all gather around the statue. This time they didn’t pray. This time they start to chant a name and move their body to music only they seem to hear. It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time how they chanted themselves into a trance-like status.

For a moment, it seemed like the statue smiled down at you. You blinked a few times to be sure you didn’t imagine things but its face remained stoic.

“What are they doing?” 

“They call for me, my wildflower. They want us to unite to bring eternal summer, love, and fertility back to this town,” he wrapped his arms around you. “Give yourself to me.”

“Give myself to you.” 

He started to sway to music you couldn’t hear, but your body moved on its own. You let him slide the straps of your dress down. It fell to the ground, but you didn’t care.

“You’re meant to be mine,” he whispered in your ear while guiding your body, making you dance with him. “You’re going to be mine forever.”

The people turned their attention toward you and Thor. They cheered him on as he slid your panties down and ripped your bra off of your chest. 

“Look at my bride,” he shouted out a victory cry. “She’s going to be my mate.”

You felt like you were lost in limbo, his arms the only anchor keeping you in this world. He picked you up, carrying you toward the statue.

You’re not sure it happened, but the flowers seemed to form a bed. Thor placed you on the flowers and spread your legs. 

You heard gasps and chants but all you could focus on was Thor taking off his clothes. He looked down at you, nodding in approval when you spread your legs.

His blue eyes seemed to sparkle when he laid with you. He took his rightful place between your thighs, claiming what he told you was his all along.

Thor sank into you, inch per glorious inch. He whispered gentle words, but his hands roughly pinned your wrist down, keeping you immobile as he started to move inside of you.

“All-father, watch me claim my bride,” he chanted while his hips mercilessly crashed into yours. You were writhing underneath him, crying at the intense pleasure he forced you to endure. “She’s my goddess. Give me your blessings.”

Lightning hit the ground right next to your head, but you didn’t care. Your body craved something more than survival.

“Thor,” you began to meet his thrusts, encouraging him to take you harder. “More…deeper…I’m yours.”

“Thor, our god.” The crowd began to chant. They kneeled next to you, watching you and Thor unite. “Give her your seed.”

Thor gripped your thighs, spreading you wider to watch his cock slide in and out of your dripping cunt. He growled like a feral animal.

“Have my seed, my little wildflower,” his features softened, and he released your wrist, allowing you to touch him. “Cum for me. I want to feel your pleasure.”

“Oh…I’m gonna cum,” your hands move to his back to hold tight onto Thor. 

His warmth filled you, but he didn’t let up. Thor pushed into you, over and over again until you tightened around him. 

Your eyes sparkled, and your skin began to glow. It felt like your body wasn’t yours any longer. Thor now owned it, but you didn’t mind.

“Watch my goddess transform into her true form.”

He slipped out of you, smiling down at your trembling body. 

“All-father, give her your blessing,” he chanted as another lightning hit the ground next to you. You felt like you began to float, and maybe you did.

You still don’t know. 

Blinding light covered your whole body and wrapped you in its warmth until you felt nothing but love.

You sank back down on the bed of pink orchids, eyes fluttering shut.  

“Yes. All-father.” Thor chanted even harder. “Please allow me to make her mine completely...”

That’s how you became the goddess of fertility, ruling this world alongside your lover. Thor, God of love, thunder, and summer.

From that night on, you walked this world with your mate, bringing summer, love, and fertility to the people.

Tags in reblog.

[superscrub323]

A Little Elaboration on why a certain Animatic does the Lovers section of God Games the best

Alright if you've been following me you should know that one of my favorite tertiary characters in Epic the Musical is Ares and it's primarily because there's no reason for any version of the God of War to go harder on a verse than the God of Music yet Earle Gresham Jr. did so anyway and most of us, including those who write Warrior Penelope AU fanfics, thank him for it.

It's also a challenge for animators because while Apollo's and Hephaestus's verses and scenes are fairly straight forward, the primary challenge with Hera and Aphrodite is which glammed the fuck outfits they're going to be wearing, and Zeus needs to be depicted with all the pomp and grandiose we'd expect after hearing him proclaim his greatness and power in 'Thunder Bringer'; pretty every animatic artist universally agrees that Ares and Athena have to fight and flyte* at the same time and while all of them usually do a good job depicting the basic gist on how said fight usually goes, Ares temporarily having an edge over Athena, Athena emotionally rallying after Ares insults Telemachus, and Athena beating and/or intimidating Ares and Aphrodite into releasing him.**

But there is one animatic that does the Lovers section of God Games the best in fact it's the only part they've done and while I desperately hope they do the rest of the song they did the Lovers section so good it...sticks with me in ways that never leave my brain cavity and that's @sixofclovers's version of that part of a scene which...oh geez were do I start?

First off, one thing to notice is that while the character designs are simple but no less striking, it gives a chance to do things different from how animatics go, for example it opens with Athena having a lyre string and a hammer and giving it to her owl which is explained in the description stating that Athena in this version has to collect tokens from all the participants in Zeus's game, which in this case is Apollo's lyre string, Hephaestus's forge hammer, Aphrodite's pearl ear ring, (most likely) a peacock feather from Hera, and the golden ichor from Ares, which is already an interesting idea on it's own but that last one is pretty interesting in ways I'll get to later.

Then it cuts to Aphrodite and, unusually, she doesn't look seductive, flirty, or playful, she looks pissed at Athena and in tears while surrounded by a purple aura that is rapidly growing and when it comes in contact with Athena it compels her to cry and share her grief. Which also as a bonus forces Athena to be put on her back foot especially since as she weakly defends Odysseus with 'he was busy fighting' she has to wipe away her tears as Aphrodite sings 'more like busy spiting, the cyclops' she takes off her ear piercing and holds it to her eye in a striking visual way that references said Cyclops and begins to crush it in away that lets Athena know she finds her argument uncompelling until Athena in tears has to beg for Aphrodite to 'please reconsider this' while shapeshifting out of her armor symbolically making herself vulnerable before Aphrodite which causes her to loosen her grip on her pearl ear ring until...

'Really Athena? These old tricks?'

BAM

'Ares!'

And then Ares charges in and back hands her to the floor while Athena desperately barely gets time to magically summon her armor and shield to shield herself as Ares steps on her while Athena, and by proxy we the audience, get a good look at Ares and we see that he's crying along with Aphrodite and Athena which means that not only is Ares unaffected by Aphrodite's forced empathy making him cry, he shares it and is empowered by it. But as Ares gets to singing he kicks Athena away to give her a chance to get on her feet so Athena can prepare to get her grisly token Ares's of approval.

Another thing to note is that while the other 4 gods have personal objects they can give away as tokens, Ares's token is his ichor. Ares explicitly wants to clash spears with Athena and the only way he'll agree to release Odysseus is if she can draw ichor, not beat, just get a single cut of his blood which in turn paints a version of Ares that is confident in his ability to fight Athena under Aphrodite's forced empathy wave.

Said confidence is further backed up as while Athena is still on the back foot despite having her shield and spear already drawn, Ares doesn't even have his spear drawn yet and Athena is still on her back foot, and when Ares does draw his spear he draws it so fast it extinguishes 6 torches behind him which symbolizes the 6 men Odysseus sacrifices to Scylla as he calls out Odysseus unwillingness to even try to fight Scylla (didn't even try to kill her.)

And as Ares continues fighting Athena while he laments his cowardness, he beats her pretty evenly before throwing her to the ground while calling Telemachus pathetic and weak. Which in turn gives Athena a chance to channel the rage she feels at Ares for insulting her friend and to emotionally rally past Aphrodite's empathy wave but what is usual is that even when Athena is using her owl as a distraction to get Ares to turn his back for a surprise attack, she still can't get a clean cut on his neck...so instead she points to Aphrodite as she tells him 'And tell your lover that a broken heart can mend' and charges at her to force Ares to intercept Athena and catch the spear head.

And despite having the pointy end of a spear firmly in his hand it's still not enough to get him to draw blood and while Ares could probably kick Athena away and continue fighting, Aphrodite, who has been watching them fight, smiles in approval of Athena's willingness to protect her friends and Ares's protective nature (another thing that rarely gets shown) and hugs Ares from behind as if to tell him 'it's okay baby, you can let him go' and Ares grips the spear tighter and willingly draws his ichor thanks to Athena's urging to give Odysseus a chance to prove he isn't a coward and Aphrodite's approval of his release. Which is further demonstrated when Ares looks at Aphrodite who gives a smile not and they both say 'ugh...release them' as Ares gives Athena's owl Aphrodite's pearl earring covered in his blood so Athena can move on.

It's an amazing animatic that lets all 3 characters be more than how they're usually depicted in these animatic, Aphrodite doesn't get to be the sultry seductress, she gets to be aggrieved at Odysseus for letting his mom die, Athena gets a chance to show her ability to experience empathy and how dirty she can be in a fight, and Ares...gets to unironically (at least with Aphrodite helping him) be the martially superior God of War in a straight up fight and show emotions beyond rage and demonstrate his protective nature, and as an added bonus it's one of the few animatics where Athena does beat or intimidate Ares and Aphrodite into surrendering, they both give up of their own will which is...wow!

I hope the guys at Epic do that scene in a way that's something similar because...I can't get over how breathtaking it is and I once again shout out at sixcloveranimations for doing a fantastic job and doing it debatably the best.

*scold or in this case quarrel

**Special shout out to Neal the Illustrator, @anniflamma, and @gigizetz for having some of the best full animatics for God Games.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Asgard's Greatest Lover [Brodinsons]

Part of the Brother Collection A link to my regular Masterlist is HERE Summary: An offhand comment leads to a salty trip down memory lane. (w/c 1.4k) Warnings: Squabbling. D*ck measuring contests to fluff. Implied smut references.

“Loki, she’s looking over-” Despite best efforts to ignore it, the meaty elbow jostling the god’s ribs made him wince. “Loki, look, in the stand yonder. She’s looking, Loki- look” Thor boomed excitedly, bouncing in his seat. “Will you desist?” Loki spat, hissing under his breath.

He could feel blood warming his cheeks, the volume of Thor's attempt at subtlety making him wish a portal would swallow him whole. He shouldn't have come. He didn't even like tennis. And yet, as always, here he was. With his public embarrassment of a brother. Loki grimaced as Thor began to point.

“But look hence...she noticed you! Perhaps she wishes to bid us good day.” He began to raise his arm, the start of a floppy wave which would likely be seen from space. “Wave, Loki- look, brother, see-!” Loki’s hand shot out, forcing the over-excited gesture down. “She’s wondering if you have utterly lost control of your faculties, brother;” Loki snarled, trying his best to look menacing. “As am I.”

Thor chortled, straightening a muscle vest which was three sizes too small. “Oh, Loki. You never have been very good at this sort of thing,” he sighed, letting his enthused gaze roam up and down the pristine grass court as Stark Industries friends and family took their seats. “It truly is a boon that you have one such as I to guide you in this romantic endeavour.” Loki raised his brows. He knew he shouldn’t take the bait. Especially in public. Especially today. But it was just too tempting.

“Whatever could you mean, brother?” he crooned, giving his most stoic side-eye with a tilt of his chin. He felt Thor bristle, telltale nervous fingering of blonde strands behind his ear letting Loki know the warning pitch of his voice had hit as intended.

“Well, Loki, it’s no secret that your love life has been fraught with unfortunate malaise where seduction is concerned,” “Unfortunate?” Loki said coldly, “I wouldn’t call a reputation as Asgard’s greatest lover unfortunate.”

Thor spluttered, shaking his head with sanctimonious laughter. “Ah, my little brother. I do admire the unshakeable esteem with which you hold your delusions.”

The dark brother’s grip tightened on the bleacher bench. “And I suppose you believe that title belongs to you, does it?” he sneered through gritted teeth. Poison flecked the words, dripping from his tongue like venom from a fang. Thor’s eyes narrowed. “I have the relic which proves it,” he shrugged.

“The one our mother gave you in solace when Jane left?” Loki snarled, “Pathetic. I doubt she even knew what it truly meant, just echoed your boorish claims thinking it was based in chivalry,” he paused. “At least, I hope that was her intent.” They stared at each other in pregnant silence.

“It matters not that mother gifted me said ceramic receptacle,” Thor said through gritted teeth. “What matters is, that my legend reaches far beyond the bifrost to bedchambers across nine realms, brother.” A shit-eating grin spread across his face. “Whereas yours is rather more contained to the palace servant quarters.” “That was one instance,” Loki spat, “and she was the most comely chambermaid we’d ever had.” “I’m sure,” Thor huffed, rolling his eyes. He brought one fist in front of Loki’s face, flexing an ostentatious bulge of bicep. “I was too busy giving the princess of Nilfheim a shudder of my very special thunder to notice.” He smirked, delivering a slow wink to punctuate his prowess. “She was never the same afterwards, you know.” Loki stared open mouthed, before he burst into raucous laughter.

From across the court, Steve immediately stood with a snap; hands on his hips with the most uptight death glare Loki had ever seen. “This is tennis,” Steve squawked. “For gosh’s sakes, have some respect.”

Through tears of mirth, Loki saw you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle a giggle. She recognises that Rogers is ridiculous, he thought. Good. That’s good.

Regaining his composure, Loki straightened. He smoothed his hair behind his ears, picking up the gauntlet his brother had carelessly cast down.

“Never the same. Quite.” he mused thoughtfully, collecting himself. “I can believe that your relentless dry-thrusting, lack of imagination and moans which sound suspiciously like the name of your talisman would scar her for life, yes.” “Leave Mjölnir out of this,” Thor snapped. Loki smirked, eyes wandering casually to where you sat. “The rumours are true then. Interesting.” he murmured slyly. Thor crossed and re-crossed his legs, the bleacher creaking beneath his weight. “She was perfectly satisfied,” the blonde grumbled, shifting his feet. Loki snorted. “Brother, you could not satisfy a woman if the key to unlocking her pleasure was written in parchment and propped upon her belly.” Thor stared, blankly. “Ah, yes – I forgot. A woman’s pleasure is not your forte is it,” Loki sneered, casting a quick glance towards his brother’s reddening face. “From what I heard, your attempts have been tragic at worst and laughable at best-” “Loki,” Thor warned, glancing anxiously at the people filling the seats behind them. But Loki continued, un-phased.

“Did you truly think you were to rub it with your chin?” He let out a harsh ooo, before sucking the air between his teeth.

“Those unfortunate women,” he drawled with feigned solemnity. “They didn’t want to hurt your feelings. ‘Asgard’s greatest lover’...please.” Thor tried to speak then thought better of it. Loki felt the glee begin to rise in his chest as he tasted victory in the air. “I felt moved for her when she hobbled from your chambers, poor thing. What did she cite for her impromptu departure, I wonder? Headache, was it?” He looked at his brother. The glazed look of bamboozled betrayal in his eyes told Loki that he was in fact, correct.

“Thankfully, I had just run a rather luxurious bath for myself which the lady found most soothing to aid her discomfort,” Loki purred, throwing his scarlet-faced sibling a knowing glance. “She was very grateful for my healing hands. And other anatomical attentions.”

Thor stared with slack-jawed disbelief.

The dark-haired god flicked his keen gaze towards you again. He let his eyes track up the skin of your bare calf, glinting in the afternoon sun. Supple, he pondered; thanking the Norns for the light breeze which rustled your skirt. On cue, you sipped from a large water bottle. Loki smirked.

“I was not aware that I was now a figure of such...ridicule. How times have changed.” Loki frowned as his moment of voyeurism was disturbed by Thor’s quiet mewl. With a sigh of resignation he swivelled, their knees touching. He reached for his brother’s hand, lowering his chin with sincerity in his eyes.

“Brother, that is not so” Loki said softly, “you have always been a figure of ridicule.”

Thor let out a shaky laugh, nodding. “I can always count on you to cheer me, brother” he said, patting Loki’s hand. Loki nodded once in acknowledgement. “Perhaps the next time you think yourself above me in the art of seduction, you will remember this conversation.”

“One can hope,” Thor chirped.

Loki rolled his eyes, retracting his hand. Polite clapping erupted as the first of the day’s players walked onto the court, waving at the crowds. He could feel Rogers suspicious stare burning into him from the other side of the grass, but he paid it no mind. “You truly think the odds are in my favour, brother?” Loki murmured thoughtfully, nodding subtly in your direction.

The two of them craned to catch a glimpse, the figure of his affections now half-obscured by a sea of lesser bodies. Your demure facial expression gave nothing away, but a pat on the shoulder from Natasha soon made you break into a dazzling smile. How she is not a goddess, I shall never know, Loki pondered; feeling his heart melt into his stomach and transform to a sea of butterflies. The redhead nudged her chin upwards, urging you to look up where the two gods stood. Staring. “Gods,” Loki hissed regretfully, continuing to clap like a fool. There was nothing else to be done. The boorishness of his brother had once again drawn the wrong kind of attention. But try as he might, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Perhaps she has some magic of her own, he mused.

Thor’s elbow jostled against his ribs, “I told you, Loki” he chortled, “god of chaos or not, I would say that the odds are most definitely in your favour where your lady is concerned.” “Truly?” Loki breathed, his heart beating faster as you gave him a small, bashful wave. “Truly,” Thor said, giving his brother’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Tags (if you'd rather stick with smutty stuff please let me know!) @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @goddessofwonderland @muddyorbsblr @arch-venus25 @nine-leafclover

[theartoftheawaken]

Spells of Scented Sovereignty

Top Notes:

Wild Blackberries – lush, untamed sweetness; a signal that you’re bold, unpredictable, and not afraid to stand out

Coconut & Vanilla – creamy and warm, this adds a softness, a sensual whisper beneath the power—inviting, nurturing, divine feminine in bloom

Heart Notes:

Cashmere & Violets – a delicate yet luxurious layer; this is where mystery meets elegance. It says, “Come closer—but only if you’re worthy.”

Base Notes:

Patchouli & Amber Woods – grounding and magnetic; this is where your scent becomes unforgettable. It leaves a trace of power in your wake, like the echo of thunder after lightning.

Vibe Summary:

Essence: Feminine mystique with a commanding edge

Mood: You’ve entered the room to either be worshipped, challenged, or followed—there is no in-between

Energy: Regal. Magnetic. Untouchable… unless invited.

Spell of Velvet Storm

To be spoken while applying your signature scent. Speak it slowly and with intent. Let the words become rhythm. Feel the scent wrapping around you like armor spun form desire, danger, and destiny.

“I anoint myself in silk and shadow. Wild as nightfall, soft as breath. Let every note awaken my dominion— Blackberry for boldness. Violet for vision. Vanilla for sacred sweetness. Patchouli for power rooted deep. With each drop, I magnetize. With each breath, I command. Let those who cross my path feel wonder— And those who oppose it, falter. I am not here to be followed. I am the reason they look back.”

Spell of Velvet Seduction (Sensual)

To awaken allure, intimacy, and irresistible magnetism

“With this scent, I call desire home. I bloom like dusk—slow, soft, dangerous. Vanilla melts upon my skin—inviting. Coconut whispers memory into the air. Cashmere coats my aura in silk-thread longing. Every step a promise, every breath a pulse. Let their hearts beat to my rhythm. Let their gaze linger, then lower. I am the velvet touch in a world of stone. They’ll crave me in silence— and remember me in fire.”

Spell of Sovereign Guard (Protective)

To shield your energy, repel low vibrations, and radiate divine protection

“I mist this scent as sacred armor. The air becomes my sanctuary. Amber holds the line. Patchouli grounds my spirit deep. Blackberries bloom like sentinels. No shadow may cling, no gaze may drain. What is not mine, dissolves. What seeks to harm, recoils. I move unseen to those unworthy. Yet shine like obsidian sun to those who serve my peace. I am watched by ancestors, Walked with by gods. I am never alone.”

Spell of Command and Crown (Commanding)

To amplify your presence, sharpen your voice, and bend energy to your will

“Let this fragrance be my war cry. Let every note remind the world—I decide. Blackberry leads like firelight in shadow. Violets speak in tongues only queens understand. Woods and vanilla bind my will to form. I enter—energy obeys. I speak—doors remember their hinges. I do not ask. I do not chase. I summon. I shape. I sit on the throne I built. Today, I wear the crown. And none dare look away."

[corvid-blues]

YOOO EPIC THE MUSICAL x LIFE SERIES AU THINGGG

this post is made specifically for @patches4thechaos no one else (/j)

It’s kind of (???) like a masterpost of this AU, but like badly structured and I haven’t made good reference sheets just some color palettes next to some ok drawings I suppose (I am very much going to redraw them just not soon maybe idk) SO UH HERE ROLES AND WHY I PICKED THEM

Odysseus - Joel

Notes - Idk he was the only one I could safely use because he ACTUALLY HAS A WIFE. Also it’s fun to be different. Though using him as Zeus is also like really fitting. Oh well. You get all the trauma Joel.

Penelope - Lizzie

Notes - I’m sorry Lizzie you’re cool and badass but unfortunately you’re also Joel’s wife and Pen is Ody’s wife. I do like to dream you videotape him killing all the sutiors though.

Telemachus - Hermes 

Notes - I literally have no idea who this guy is except he’s vaguely bird-like from fandom perception and also Joel’s son. But he fits the son role pretty well from what I see. (He’s in Empires btw)

Eurylochus - Martyn

Notes - Bro needs more main roles- Like he’s the least popular Life Series winner (which isn’t a low bar all of them are like super popular) but honestly I made Ren Polities and was like “Welp the only only valid option for Eurylochus is Martyn” and rolled with it.

Polities - Ren

Notes - Ren is a happy-go-lucky joyous boy and I think more people need to recognize that like bro is walking through life confused af but dam happy about it I’ll tell you. Everyone is like “Red King angst angst angst” like he has no idea what’s going on at all times.

Polyphemus - Bdubs

Bdubs is the only viable option for Polyphemus like animal-obsessed and murderous? Who else? Also he has a giant horse demon.

Aeolus - Skizz

Notes - He seems the popular choice, and his goofy demeanor and angelic fandom traits really show why. I have a really vivid mental image of his giant angelic form flapping its wings and pushing the ships with giant gusts of wind. It’s my second favorite moment in all of this.

Circe - Gem

Notes - Actually, I can’t take credit for this one, I saw someone with a different EPIC AU who put her as Circe and using skulk instead of seduction in There Are Other Ways and I was like “GENIUS” and stole it. She fits pretty well.

Hermes - Scar

No other viable option. Especially the fandom meme of Hermes selling drugs to Odysseus, seems like something Scar would do. Also the fun beat and Hermes’s other song “Dangerous” is definitely his vibe like seriously.

Tiresias - Grian

Notes - I have so much unnecessary angsty lore that has nothing to do with actual Tiresias like he was barely twenty when he died but grew up in the underworld, he was forced into being a preist to the Secret Keeper (watcher robes and stuff) and is familiar with a lot of the gods because he’s a prophet. I also have a bunch of desert duo shit (obviously). 

Siren - BigB

Notes - Honestly an arbitrary choice, but my main inspiration was Double Life and how he “pretended” to be Grian’s soulmate. Like, this is a completely different situation but like same concept. Ha you fuck up big time B.

Scylla - Pearl

Notes - Look the giant serpent heads are Pearl’s wolf pack Joel’s head is illuminated but the blood moon reflected in the water before they dock and walk through a dark cave and like his face is bathed in the blood of the moon and in the end the blood of his comrades THE SYMBOLISM. The “drown in your sorrow and tears” LIKE DOUBLE LIFE YALL I CANT.

Antinous - idk honestly

Notes - HE’S EVIL AND A JERK IDK

Calypso - Iskall

Notes - Yoooo our one of our only non-lifers- I guess he doesn’t really count for a Life Series AU but like he was too perfect Calypso being like “Noooo why are you breaking up with me” and Odysseus being like “WE WERE NEVER TOGETHER” real Iskall and Joel coded relationship.

Zeus - The Secret Keeper 

Notes - The only problem with this one is Thunder Bringer because he seems a lot more like just a guy there (an all powerful jerk guy but that’s besides the point) and less like an omnipotent divine deity which is what I was going for with the Secret Keeper in the Horse and the Infant and God Games.

Athena - Cleo

Notes - I saw her sometimes depicted with snake hair like Medusa and ya know Athena turned Medusa into a gorgon so I thought “Hey what if Cleo was Athena and her hair turned into snakes when she’s angry” like in My Goodbye and the “hold your tongue” scene in God Games. I gave her dreads so it’s a smoother transition.

Poseidon - Etho

Notes - Another arbitrary choice! I must blame this on my Ethubs brain like this AU is actually mostly based on Last Life (or at least the relationships) so like red life Bdubs being almost killed by Joel would really piss him off. But also in Limited Life Bdubs is technically Etho’s son so you could take it as that. (Sorry Boat Boys shippers I actually really considered putting him as Calypso)

Apollo - Jimmy

Notes - Now we’re getting into the really arbitrary choices. This was mostly a color match, and Jimmy seems like the kind of guy to own a bunch of cows and throw a hissy fit when one of them is killed. 

Hephaestus - Tango

Notes - Actually, I had Tango for Hephaestus in my head for a while. Idk he just has inventor vibes that would very obviously be angry at Joel’s basically sacrifice of his entire crew.

Aphrodite - Scott

Notes - This was mostly an excuse so I could put Scott in like flowy beautiful clothing also he seems like the kind of guy to be the god of love like bro is very gay.

Ares - Impluse

Notes - I… have no good reasoning for this. Impulse in my head is actually one of the chillest of all the Lifers but he seems like he could get very scary if he was ever actually angry.

Hera - Mumbo

Notes - And here we are, the winner of all the arbitrary choices I made for this AU. Man. Idk he had that one hipster outfit and Hera gives off very 80’s hipster vibes. Maybe that’s what he’ll wear. Huh. This only came to mind like now

This was all supposed to be meant for just me so if it’s confusing then uh sorry

Bam the ok references I have you didn’t expect me to have every character did you naw I’m too lazy for that

Don’t mind the terribly scribbled notes on any of them either pfft um

a couple doodles (Scar cameo lol) (click for full image on the second one)

Looking back on it I made those references MONTHS ago Ren’s cape looks so goofy

Less of a Life Series AU and more of a Hermit-Life-Empires AU um IM STILL CALLING AND TAGGING IT EPIC THE MUSICAL x LIFE SERIES THO

And I swear if you make any fanart tag me or I will hunt you down (/lh) (Probably not gonna be fanart but JUST IN CASE)