#an hourglass to rule them all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tarjapearce · 10 months

Text

Prey Game

Miguel O'Hara x Spider person! reader

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Mild nsfw, research about spiders, sexual tension, needy and reactive Miguel. Wacky behaviors of spiders.

Summary: Miguel discovers what your venom can actually do. The Hard way.

Requested here

Miguel had seen his fair share of Spider agents parading in the HQ. But in all honesty, never on his life thought than an actual Black Widow would be the catalyzer for a new agent to be born. You. Spider Black. Or Widow as some nicknamed you.

The bright red hourglass emblem on your chest, sent a clear message. Danger. At first, Miguel thought that you had been venomized by the overall type of suit you sported. A suit that for some reason was almost leathery-like, made out of an enzyme that melded like a second skin to you, thanks to the scientist in your world.

Your dimension was... Chaos itself.

It made sense for him that a Spiderwoman as equally brutal appeared to contain the spiraling mayhem your city was drowning in. A form of twisted balance. Even Jess had her own concerns when you were first introduced to the Spider Society TF.

You were the last resource to contain anomalies that turned out to be a real challenge even for seasoned Spiders, with the condition of doing it solo.

Not because you thought yourself invincible, no. It was to avoid any potential collateral damaged agents in your wake. You were vicious, just like the young and radioactive black widow that had bit you. Sometimes you couldn't help it, your DNA had been modified to the point of you adopting some qualities proper of the species.

You were a loner, not that you didn't get along with the rest, the constant chatting and bustling inside turned to be quite overwhelming to your senses. Your fingertips, had tiny, almost invissible little pointy slits that served as receptors. You could feel someone's heartbeat with them, along the rush of blood pumping through their bodies.

But the wackiest things you actually had in your repertoire, was your venom, nested in the natural talons you had for nails. Awfully painful and mind shattering.

Miguel had seen you fight, and when your mating season started, he'd noticed you'd stalk your enemies, patiently in the shadows preying on them with hunger and the outcome, was surely not for the squeamish.

Sometimes Jess thought that you were too much.

Had he made a mistake in taking you in? No. Surely no. You were one of the best. A force to be reckoned with.

You just watched him from the shadows. Ever so nimble, quiet and secretive.

------

His senses were thrashed. Hands trembled, trying to hold on the handles of the door. It was painful, but why it felt good?. It fucking felt too good and he didn't like it one bit.

He glared at you through hazed eyes, shivering mouth, panting softly. Fangs prickling his bottom lip, bared at you. The small punctures of your nails in the base of his neck, bleeding softly.

You smirked at his state.

But oh his groin. You licked your lips. Mating season was still on, and for some reason, your ever stoic serious and grumpy Boss, was now on the floor, a mess of raged breaths, some whimpers escaped him as he tried to stand.

"What's wrong?" Your voice soft, sultry and laced with sarcasm and something else. Hunger.

Even though sexual cannibalism wasn't a feat proper of the Latrodectus species, it still could happen in a 2% ratio. But you wouldn't actually eat him, no. Right?

His body reacting so different to everyone else, made him the exception, but not the rule. Your pupils wide blown as he slumped in the wall, talons out, growling in anger.

"Don't" He hissed as you approached him. Slow, deliberate. Prowling over him with a satisfied smile on your pouty lips.

He gasped for air as sweat started to ooze from his forehead, he felt so out of himself. Out of his character and element. He wasn't in control for once, instead he was slumped against one of his office walls, trembling like a rabid dog in need, raging boner between his well sculpted thighs.

"I mean it." He grunted through clenched teeth, trying to put his senses in order. You kneeled next to him, the alpha-latrotoxin, your venom, rushed through his bloodstream, came out as a delicious pheromone to your senses. You licked your lips again and gently ran a hand through his neck. Pulse quickening, just as his heart.

Powerful and rhythmic beats echoed beneath your fingertips. God he was delicious.

"You wanted to see what my venom could do. Why are you complaining?" You'd chuckle and nuzzle his neck. The contact sending a violent shiver down his spine.

"Can't handle it?" You licked the flesh of his neck. So tender and thrumming in gentle spasms.

"Want me to do something about it?"

His Adam's apple bobbed and his fist clenched. Eyes flashing red, but not in anger. Your mouth salivated at the sight of him. Slowly, tortuous seconds stretched too long before you gave a feathery kiss in his neck, right above the jugular. He shuddered.

You bit softly, relishing the texture of his skin between your teeth. To your surprise, he took a hold of your hair and pushed in further. A quiet 'keep going'.

Giggling playfully, you licked and kissed between the base of his neck, teeth sinking in further with a little more force. An involuntary pleased groan escaped his lips, your smirk widened.

Soon, you were biting his neck, leaving marks, marks that he'd surely have to explain later. But for now he didn't care, the new sensations although making a muddle of his senses, were slowly wiring him into a unexplainable urge to be bitten. Devoured.

Cause in reality, some black widow males spiders just wanted to be eaten. Even going to the extent of placing themselves in the maws of the female spiders. He wasn't from your same species, but his reaction had surely made your hunger enhanced and your body receptive.

None would actually believe you if you'd tell them that your venom made Miguel a needy mess.

"I... I fuckinghate.. you." He slurred in between hefty breathings.

"Your body loves it, though. It's quite the feat to see this... side of you, Boss." Your hands trailed down his groin and he shut his eyes tightly. A sharp inhale as you squeezed.

"But don't worry, it only last for a hour." You whispered in his ear, and removed yourself from him. He gulped, hand lingering in the air.

"See ya, Boss" You swayed your way out to your dimension, leaving him there. A jumbled and hard mayhem.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #t writes✨#spider reader #Mild Smut

926 notes · View notes

befemininenow · 1 year

Text

Are you a trans girl or non-conforming and would like to try out feminine clothing? You may want to check this out.

Say you found this dress online and you really love the overall style of it. Great! If you’re like me, you would say “F it! I’ll buy the dress and I’ll wear it how I like!” and move on with your life. That should the end of this guide, right? Except, there is one little problem: not everybody thinks this way. Those who look for the best matching outfits aren’t just searching to fit their style, color, or personality. It also has to do with their body type. If you’re in that situation, this guide may help you out.

Body shape

Believe it or not, there are many different types of body shape (up to 10). However, the most common tend to be the following (in no order):

Rectangle- Even distribution on shoulders, hips, and waistline

Pear/Triangle- Wide hips, well-defined waist, small shoulders

Hourglass- Near-exact hip and shoulder measurements, thinner waistline

Inverted Triangle- Broader shoulders, narrower hips, little waist definition

Apple/Round- Broad shoulders and big bust, thin legs and hips

Many transgender women have the inverted triangle body shape due to several factors such as genetics, bone structure, and age. However, your body shape may also change over time due to a rebalancing of hormones, body fat, and even lifestyle. While you can’t change your bone structure, you can change your body definition through exercises.

Body proportion

Here is something you may find useful if you’re looking to customize your look. Body proportions are unique to every individual and play a factor on clothing and to some extent, accessories such as jewelry. For instance, you may find the skirt you bought looks either too long or short. There are a few areas where to measure your body proportions such as wrist length or neck size. But the best way to improve your dress type is by following the “golden ratio rule” of dividing your body into three:

The way this is read is you’re either one-third top, two-thirds bottom, or you’re two-thirds top, one-third bottom. Once you get more knowledge, you can go upwards even eighths! But for now, the focus is on these two outcomes.

The two-thirds top, one-third bottom words well with long dresses:

while the one-third top, two-thirds bottom works well with more casual clothing:

Body measurements

Now that we got a few problems out of our way, it’s time to figure out what measurements you have. The best way to find out is by using a mirror and a soft measuring tape for body. Measure all the crucial parts of your body, which are the waist, hips, shoulders, and bust. This will determine the type of body you have and have a better idea on what length you will need to try out your clothing of choice.

Shoe size

One thing very important about an outfit is choosing footwear. Although you can use your old Converses with your flared jeans, you’re certainly not going to use them with a ruffled dress. You’re definitely going to want heels or flats! Unfortunately, women’s shoe size are not exactly the same as men. But don’t give up! Fortunately, there are women’s size conversion charts that help you choose what shoe size you need.

To find out your measurements on your own, grab at least two blank pieces of paper, a pencil or pen, and a measuring tape. Place your foot firmly forward and carefully trace around the outer area of your foot. Repeat this with your other foot. Once finished, grab your measuring tape and measure from your highest point to your lowest on both sheets. Measure the width as well. If both feet measure close to 10.5, your women’s size is a 12. However, due to a difference in manufacturing based on shoe brand, as well as shoe type like pumps, the average recommended size is at least 2 inches above your actual size. For those living in other countries that don’t use the US measuring size, I left a chart that shows all the possible measurements you may use to convert your shoe size into women’s size.

What to wear based on body type

Since not all clothing is made for everyone, it’s time to list what is considered the “ideal” clothing choices based on body type. Note that these are opinions from my source’s authors. IMO, the pictures below each suggestion are a better opinion. Your are free to choose your type of clothing.

Rounded or apple shapes fit best with monochrome colors and make the person look more “fit”.

Pear or triangle shapes look more balanced with decorative accessories on top while keeping the bottom more plain.

Rectangle shapes tend to have more volume with a waist belt while pleated pants give more volume on hips.

Hourglass shapes look best when wearing bodycon dresses and cardigans to emphasize volume in their waistline.

Inverted triangle shapes pull off the wide leg pants and fitted top combo the best.

For a much more comprehensive guide for each body type, I highly recommend reading The Concept Wardrobe’s guides. It gives more details on what to wear and how to choose the best combinations. Link is provided here: https://theconceptwardrobe.com/search?query=body+frame

Tips on what to wear

Now that you reached this point, I’m pretty sure you’re excited to try out what your heart desires. However, before you go out and buy that two-piece dress, I recommend researching and observing the type of clothing women wear today. Believe it or not, people will judge based on your way of dressing, from background to social status to age. A simple look like bodysuit and jeans may look perfect on you and blend you in with the girls, but something like a hot pink bodycon will make you stand out, and most likely not in a good way. So how would you choose something that blends you in with society, but also be comfortable at the same time? Here are some tips and pics:

Find clothing that “feels” feminine. In other words, buy clothing that “feminizes” your body, such as tops that make your shoulders look shorter, wrap dresses that make your waistline shorter, and skirts that make your hips look wider.

Find the best colors based on skin tone and hair color. For instance, try out warm colors such as orange if your skin tone is warm.

Dress sexy, but never go too revealing. Seriously, have some respect to yourself. But if you really want to go out wearing, for example, a two-piece outfit, wear one that looks stylish and flatters your body in a great way.

Use accessories that fit and blend well with your body. Large jewelry goes well with larger frame, small jewelry fits with smaller wrist, and so forth. Don’t forget the purse! It is absolutely necessary now that you’re wearing pocketless clothing. Choose one that fits your taste and needs.

Bras and undergarments are necessary to wear now. As you further into your transition, your breasts will start growing and it will become more difficult and uncomfortable going out braless. Start out with a brassiere, then move on to a fitted bra as they become bigger over time. As for down there, I would use boy briefs as they’re similar to boxers. Although HRT will cause it to shrink, it does not make it disappear. If you must hide it, use a gaff or a tuck, but do not use chastity belts (Seriously, stay away from that unless you’re really into that thing).

Optional: use waist shapers or corsets to slim down waist. Hip enlargement pads will also give your narrow hips and butt much needed volume. Breast forms can also give you an idea how big you want them in the future.

Fashion sense

But the most important part of choosing clothing as a trans girl is to wear whatever suits your taste.

For instance, are you more into the traditional and simple feminine aesthetic? Cottagecore may be for you:

But what if you’re the rebellious type that prefers to defy tradition? Well, maybe the alt-girl fashion is for you:

Maybe you’re the type that changes clothing based on season. So if you’re a summer-season type of girl, you’re definitely going for an outfit like this:

How about if you’re into the gym? Clearly your goal is to be like this:

Are you into business casual? There’s also a pic for that:

(The girl in the pic is also transgender! Her name is Suzi Hunter, better known as The Sphere Hunter.)

But we also can’t forget cosplay, either!:

(Cosplayer is Eden the Doll, a trans woman cosplayer! Picture belongs to Geo Leon.)

You’re probably the party type who loves some action:

Casual wear can also be tasteful and attractive too:

There’s so much to pic, but each style says a lot about what type of woman you are.

Where to buy clothing

If you’re interested in finding the right clothes for you, check out places that are especially gender-inclusive. As I’m based in the US, clothing stores such as Target are a good start while higher-end chains such as Nordstrom and Macy’s may have a better variety to choose from. If you’re a thrifty shopper, your local outlets, discount stores, and thrift shops have a surprising amount of great clothing for affordable prices. Although online sites like Amazon, Shein, and Zara have affordable and appealing clothing, many of these brands also have ethical concerns that overshadow their reputation. Dubbed “fast fashion”, they are a source of scrutiny among fashion fans and I would personally avoid them if possible. If you really need something affordable and new, I highly recommend purchasing through discount and thrift stores.

If you’re in need of safe undergarments, check out Urbody. They have clothing suitable for trans people, non-binary, and other identities, varying from binders to tucked leggings. They are founded by trans and non-binary people and use ethical practices and living wages for their workers. If you’re interested in checking their site out, here is the link to their page (I am not sponsored by them): https://urbody.co/

Conclusion

The whole point of this guide is to help you pick the proper clothing and accessories as a newly-out girl. I made this guide since there doesn’t seem to be many that are detailed. Keep in mind I’m still learning about female clothing as I am still in the first stages of transition myself. If anyone would like to add more info that is missing or provide any corrections, please reblog and add more helpful tips as it would help trans girls, trans women, non-binary, and anyone else that desires to wear affirming clothing. Please refrain from using any hurtful language if you’re doing so. Thank you and hugs!

Links to sources:

https://www.healthline.com/health/women-body-shapes#why-shape-fluctuates

https://www.thestylatude.com/post/the-most-common-body-shapes-for-women-and-how-to-find-out-yours

https://theconceptwardrobe.com/build-a-wardrobe/inverted-triangle-body-shape

https://www.thestylebouquet.com/2020/02/17/5-most-common-body-shapes-for-women/

https://dressedformyday.com/how-to-discover-your-body-proportions/

https://gabriellearruda.com/how-to-dress-better-female-body-shape/

https://m2fguide.com/how-to-pick-clothes-if-youre-transgender-or-crossdressing/

https://feminizationsecrets.com/mtf-clothing-tips/

https://www.instagram.com/p/CHBk9v0J_WO/

https://www.transgendermap.com/social/clothing-accessories/

https://apexfoot.com/shoe-sizing-chart/

https://www.glamourboutique.com/crossdresser-fashion/guide-male-female-shoe-sizes-33255#:~:text=Minimize%20the%20chance%20of%20having,11%20in%20a%20women's%20shoe

#transgender #mtf #fashion #how to #gender affirming #trans #clothing #feminine #genderfluid #quick #guide #helpful #tips #trans woman

1K notes · View notes

noose-lion · 6 months

Text

Maybe it was just my childhood special interest in martial arts and combat, but the bsd fandom drives me absolutely crazy on how they talk about the characters.

Specifically in combat abilities, fighting 'stats', body builds, ect. ect.

I mostly blame the anime, because it made everyone into twigs, but still. Some of my fellow fans out there are sometimes outright drawing lines over a character in a manga panel and going 'Look at this snatched waist' all the while ignoring basic perspective and forshortening rules. Chuuya is victim to this a fuckton.

For a starting example I'll talk about Kunikida. (Because if I start with Dazai or Chuuya I'll get the "He's petite it's not a crime to call him that" hecklers again).

Because remember folks, no need to get heated about fictional characters that were made up to tell a story.

Kunikida is a martial artist. He has a strong center of gravity, and a great deal of muscle mass. He's shown, (even in the anime mind you), to be competent against opponents who have both the height and mass advantage (that one time he swapped with Dazai mid fight, doing the cool grappling hook switch thing). He's a tall guy and he's drawn in the main manga as very broad shouldered and thick limbed. He's your average combat driven male. Built like a boxer.

He's not really the main talking point I see though. He's usually never called petite or delicate or any of the, quite frankly, ridiculous descriptors for a man of his size and build. It's usually Chuuya and in extension Dazai.

First off, ripping the bandaid off quick and easy. Chuuya isn't petite. (Sure technically petite only means short, but ancient also technically only means old. It's about the connotation.)

Chuuya is also a martial artist. Unlike Kunikida, who relies heavily on grappling technique and using his opponents own momentum and mass against them (a defensive fighter) Chuuya is almost purely offensive (most defense being left to his ability). His center of gravity is less stagnate, more fluid. He's acts quickly, crushing his opponent with efficient and well calculated brute force. Chuuya's body build reflects this. He's got a strong torso and thick limbs, strong shoulders that are lined with cords of muscle that absorb the impact of his attacks. He uses his legs a lot, kicks and jumps, and there is muscle concentration in his thighs and calves as a result. In the main manga, he's drawn with a lean torso, broader shoulders and thicker thighs. He's got a baseball player or a mixed martial artist build. (Broad shoulders and large thighs paired with his choice of suit cut is what creates his 'hourglass figure' so many of yall are obsessed with.)

Second bandaid I'm ripping off. Dazai isn't weak or delicate or whatever, but he is not buff or a tank either. And against men built for combat like Kunikida and Chuuya he's at a fairly large disadvantage.

Most of the athletic ability we've seen Dazai exhibit is evasion based. In the main manga he's drawn broad shouldered and thin, usually cloaked by his coat. Dazai has lean, muscle concentration in his shoulders, upper back and core. He doesn't have the thicker limbs of a boxer or martial artist. He better resembles a swimmer, gymnast, or even rock climber. He's not a stick, as flat as he may be. He's also probably a good deal softer then his martial artist counterparts, not living the stricter healthy life style most martial artist adhere to. Dazai doesn't do well against large heavily muscled opponents, he just doesn't have the needed mass for it. If he doesn't get the upperhand quickly he will loose. Evident in how he struggled so much against that one guy he did the cool grappling hook swap thing with Kunikida.

All this to say, almost every individual in bsd is built for their combat filled life, specialized to fit their fighting styles. It's not a big deal, but I find such thinking and analysis fun.

#inkedmyheart's recent post had me once more thinking on this #bsd #my stuff #screaming into the void #and the void screams back #bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #bsd kunikida #kunikida doppo #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #soukoku #jester thinks #bsd meta #bsd analysis #bsd headcanon #bsd headcanons

494 notes · View notes

mr-sadman · 15 days

Text

Hello wonderful people!

We are back again this year with our wonderful Dreamling Week, which will be taking place from June 2nd to June 8th this year!

Our stance on plagiarism and AI

We do not accept nor condone the use of plagiarism, including the use of AI, whether in writing or art. If you are caught using either, you will be disqualified from the current event and barred entry for the other events the Mr. Sadman team puts forward.

Disclaimer : all images used in our graphics come from the Unsplash Archive (https://unsplash.com/about) which are free to use.

General Rules and Information

Being a server member, while strongly advised, is not mandatory for this event. Our AO3 collection will be entirely open and unmoderated for everyone to post. We will be accepting late submissions, so fear not if you don’t have time to post everything you wanted to post! Additional events, such as watch-parties, fic read-alongs and game nights, will be held on the server.

The official tags for this year’s edition are : #Dreamling Week 2024 and #Dreamling Week

For reblogging purposes, make sure your tumblr blog is visible in searches and don’t be shy to tag our account (mr-sadman)! Unfortunately, despite our vigilance, some posts can evade our attention, if that’s the case, please DM us and we will rectify the situation.

Official AO3 Collection : Dreamling Week 2024 [link]

If you are under the age of 18, you will not be able to create explicit content for the event. Just to reiterate, Mr. Sadman is a 16+ server.

The Mr. Sadman Modteam is a firm believer of “ship and let ship” as well as the kinktomato (https://fanlore.org/wiki/Kinktomato). In accordance with the Server’s existing rules, we will not tolerate any discrimination and harassment in any forms whatsoever. This includes: queerphobia, homophobia, racism, content policing, hate speech, doxxing, shaming, etc, as well as hostility towards organisers and fellow participants.

Since the event is a few weeks away, what can I do now?

Spread the word and the joy! We have decided to post the prompts earlier this year to give more time for people to get creative!

Without further ado here is this year’s prompt list :

Sunday 2nd Hunt Body swap Indulgence [First Time] Monday 3rd Pirates Hourglass Flowers [Exhibitionism] Tuesday 4th Steampunk/Solarpunk Painting Meet cute/ugly [Massage] Wednesday 5th Shapeshifter Storm Finger food [Dirty] Thursday 6th Soulmates Lecture Midsummer [Friends with benefits] Friday 7th Through the ages Nightmare Monochromatic [Hate sex] Saturday 8th Assassins Memories Sunrise/Sunset [Roleplay]

FAQs/TLDR

FAQs :

When is the event ? From June 2nd to June 8th! While you should post the prompt for each day it is associated with, we will also be accepting late submissions, so have no worry!

Can I combine prompts? YES!! Be sure to indicate which days and prompts you are using in your description, otherwise, go free! You can post on either days associated with your prompts, or, if it’s a multipart work, on each corresponding day!

Is there any content restriction ? We accept all works of all mediums - writing, art, collages, playlists, podfics, translations, video edits, etc. - , whether they are SFW, NSFW and/or triggering. Writers and artists- tag appropriately ; Readers and viewers - be mindful of tags!

Where should I post my work ? Anywhere from Tumblr or AO3!! We have accounts on both platforms and we also have an AO3 collection : Dreamling Week 2024 [link]!

What tag should I use for visibility ? We recommend using both #Dreamling Week and #Dreamling Week 2024 as well as tag our account (mr-sadman) ! We will try our best to reblog every entry but if you see that we haven’t reblogged/retweeted your post yet, don’t be afraid to DM us! Make sure your blog settings are set so that your posts appear in searches - otherwise we might not see them!

Are polyamorous ships accepted ? Yes!! As long as the focus of your entry is Dreamling, poly-ships are absolutely accepted!

Do I need to be a part of the server to participate? Absolutely not! Dreamling Week is open to all! Although some additional events (such as a watch party, game nights and fic read-alongs) will be held on the server, submissions do not need to come from server members only!!

I need help, how do I reach a mod?

If there is something that is not covered by our rules masterpost and/or FAQ, you are very free to reach out to us in the Discord server’s dedicated channel or in Tumblr DMs!

Keep on Dreamling!~ <3

#dreamling week #dreamling week 2024 #mr sadman #the sandman #dreamling #dream x hob #sandman fanfic #the sandman netflix #sandman fanart #sandman #the sandman fanart #dream of the endless #hob gadling

190 notes · View notes

gamerwoman3d · 4 months

Text

A Land Before Time

🔞 An MK1 x Reader 🔞

▸ includes: Liu Kang [mk1 versions] F! Reader◂

Author's Note: This was based on a sex dream that I had, that I feel @genesiswrld SHOULD have had, because Liu Kang is hot but Bi-Han is my squishy. Not saying the dream was wasted on me, just that it was misplaced 😆

Female anatomy used.

Imagine for a moment that this New Era is real, and the existence that you're currently living is also real, and contains the New Era inside it as a game - but you find a technical way through the use of coding and quantum tech, to enter Liu Kang's New Era, “cool world” style, as something of a god/goddess.

Because you live in our shared reality, the one in which the game was created, you can in fact “code” the New Era into anything you like, within reason. But you have to get past the guardian. Liu Kang and Geras are gods there. But here, they are just characters, with Geras also partially functioning as a type of uncrackable password manager/encryption software. You can give your own self all sorts of powers to take into the New Era; but you can't change the core game unless you can get past Geras and Liu Kang.

You would either need their permission, or you'd have to force/brute force them to comply.

You can literally step from our world into the New Era and live there, immortal, with godlike power. And you do that. You use the code and give yourself the boosts you think you'll need to defend yourself if necessary.

Because you have the capacity to travel to any physical point in the timeline, as well as any temporal point in the timeline, you choose something you think will be easy to start. A time with fewer enemies, a time that you wanted to see in your own world, once.

🔞 Spicy/Explicit after the cut 🔞

When you first stepped through the portal into the New Era, the pristine sands beneath your feet were deliciously toasty. You could not help but to remove your footwear and sink your toes into the sand. The air here is pure, and filled with the strange buzz of unseen insects in the distance. The soft swirl of sand in the hourglass before you quieted. Without the hiss of sand, an absence of familiar noises from your past life became distinct; no motorcars, no hum of electronics, no trace of people, and a distinct lack of birdsong.

If you peer into the reflection of the hourglass over Liu Kang’s shoulder, you can see glimpses of early six-limbed proto-vaternians being gently guided into evolution in a neighboring realm. Liu loses his concentration on the sands as he sees you. Nothing devastating happens in the universe in that instance; there is simply a pause in the work.

Liu Kang knows immediately that you are not supposed to be here, standing before him and the hourglass.

He knows because he has not yet created humans.

Outside of the very meticulously kept garden that surrounds the hourglass, dinosaurs still rule this earth. Even birds have yet to grace the planet.

“How are you here? Or perhaps I should ask, are you truly here? Is it possible that even gods can still have dreams, or hallucinations?”

You tell him you are from a timeline before his own. You are older than his entire universe, older than Kronika, than Geras, older than the hourglass. And while you yourself did not create his universe, you were alive at the time it was conceived[1].

You tell him you shared a planet with, and walked among, the beings that created his universe. His universe is based on what your people knew of their own universe. Your feedback may or may not have influenced these creators; but you have some access to their same power of creation, and have come to use the hourglass to enhance his universe for yourself.

You came prepared to fight if necessary. Liu Kang would be very particular over who has access to the hourglass.

You may even fight a few rounds if you're curious to test your code enhancements - at least until he understands that you do have the power to control parts of his universe already, and the power to defeat him if he made it necessary. Through the encounter, he learns that you aren't lying about being from an even older timeline responsible for creating the hourglass.

But whatever it is that you want to change about the New Era, he likely won't let you without a fresh fight. And another fresh fight, and another, for every single little change you think you could want.

“We don't have to fight. We can compromise.”

For Liu Kang, it has been a lonesome existence, living out the creation of the new era in solitude. Geras can offer Liu Kang company in much the same way as an AI Assistant bot can offer a human company. But you know the depths of loneliness must be unbearable for a creator who is utterly alone in the universe across all of time. You know this, because even in your own world, the mythologies of all creator gods often began with the creation of people.

Even the gods of your own reality were so unbearably lonesome that they, in myth, created all of your ancestors, either for companionship or worship.

Your offer of company is accepted graciously, the moment he understands that you won't be withholding your companionship to exchange for the powers of the hourglass. But to settle conflicts over what happens in the hourglass, you both have an idea.

Gambling, games, and wagers. But instead of betting on who will win a physical fight between you both, you gamble on which of you can bring the other the most pleasure.

You're both seated in the zen garden, where the tropical heat has warmed the sand. Sheets of some soft fabrics are laid out in a manner similar to beach towels, allowing you both to walk and sit without burning your thighs or disturbing much of the sand.

He has a very smug “I know I've already won” look on his face the moment you suggested a contest based on sexual pleasure instead of kombat. You might think billions of years of being pent up would give you an advantage over him, but it doesn't; your customized form in this new era was generated anew when you stepped through the portal into his era. This particular body has yet to experience such pleasure at all, and will react, on a neurochemical level, at its most basic “code,” reacting the same as it would if falling in love for the first time. It will, in a nutshell, intoxicate you with want and pleasure, as if you yourself had never experienced it before.

But you didn't realize this. Your overconfidence proved your ignorance.

“You decide the winner. I trust your judgment will be fair. Or at least I don't trust my own judgment call to be unbiased,” you say.

Liu Kang smiles.

“A designated judge will be unnecessary,” he says, "I am certain we will both agree on who has won the challenge.”

He looks off in the distance before continuing.

“I would appreciate it though if we could choose some less intimate positions, at least at first. I'm still not over the grief of losing my dearest friend, and my beloved. I'm not sure how I might react, looking into the face of another, knowing I shall never have these moments with her. It isn't that I don't realize the finality of her destruction; but giving this kind of pleasure to another is a turning point that I may never be ready for.”

You slide closer to him and caress his shoulder, enough for him to feel your inner warmth.

“Grief is made of the same stuff as love. It's just the love-stuff that's leftover with nowhere to go,” you say.

He lays his head on your shoulder, pulls your hand to his cheek and tilts his face into it. Peace painted across the features of his face as he melted into your touch. His relaxation left you with an indescribable euphoria that deepened with each breath.

“Thank you for saying so. I feel more comfortable now, knowing that you understand,” he says.

“And I'm glad you said something. I like it when you tell me what you want. We can do this however you like. After all, this is a kontest for providing pleasure; not receiving it,” you said.

“Buy you will be receiving it,” he gloated, “and I shall be providing as much as you can possibly stand.”

“Ooh,” you teased, “Promises, promises! Hah, I like it. I feel good about you taking the lead, if you would?”

“Of course,” he said.

As he smiled up at the heavens, he closed his eyes and bit his lip. His eyes squeezed hard enough that the apples of his cheeks warped around the outline of his eyes. He took a deep breath that sounded as if he swallowed an antagonistic laugh.

“You aren't allowed to hate me when I show you how easy this is,” he said.

He turned his body towards yours, guided your body into facing away. You removed just enough clothing to feel his touch, to not hinder him from penetrating you if he chose. The fabric that you left over the top of your glistening pussy was delightfully thin and stretchy enough to move to the side in a pinch.

You spread yourself face down across the sheets of fabric. The warm sand below the soft fabric gave way, cushioned your ribs, and pressed its warmth up into your breasts.

He crawled on top. His weight on you pressed you slightly deeper into the fabric-covered sand. The heat and weight of his muscular legs across the backs of your thighs alone was enough to make you crave completion. But then, his clothed erection pressed against the cleft of your pussy until your slit pinched around the thin fabric. He slotted himself into the fold of fabric and held you there, wedged between the hot sand and his heated, immovable body. You squirmed into him, only to discover that you couldn't move if you wanted to, with your legs pinned to the sand.

You turned your face to the side to look over your shoulder at him. He wore a smug expression as he looked down at you.

You could feel your clit throbbing against… the hot sand? or his shaft. You could not tell. Both were equally firm and toasty.

He was hard. Slotted against the fabric, he nudged his erection firmly against you, the head nestling between your folds to swipe against your clit. His breath deepend, you could feel the air from his nostrils against your neck, just below the ear.

Against your back, you could feel his chest expand and cinch with each breath. You were caught in heat, trapped between his muscles and the sand. You liked this, being at his mercy. He rested his chin on your shoulder and huffed, resting his entire weight on you as he hunched. The cock knocking repeatedly against your throbbing clit had you squirming, whining, whimpering as you held your squeals of pleasure in. He ran one hot palm along your side. He caressed and groped your glute before freeing his cock from its cage of fabric. He hooked a finger around the strip of stretchy fabric above your mound and slipped it to the side.

The bare cockhead slipped between the fabric and your clit. Liu Kang let the fabric snap back into place, catching against the bottom of his shaft. Your pleasure built up as he rolled his hips and frotted against you, fucking the gap between your panties and your clit.

You balled your fists, grabbing handfuls of sand through the fabric sheets. He repositioned slightly so that you could feel the wet swiping of his heated cockhead against your clit more intensely. Your fingers came undone from the fabric and all ten digits splayed out in a fan shape as your quiet whimpers suddenly broke into a muffled outcry of pleasure.

His hands found yours. He covered the tops of your hands with his palms and threaded his fingers between yours, gripping each hand with interlaced fingers. You felt the tips of his fingers curl past the webbing between your digits to press against the insides of your palms. He pressed your hands, and his, to the sand, to pin them where he wanted them - where you could push back into him, but not escape. Not that you'd want to.

Your skin tingled anywhere he touched it, and the skin where the pads of his fingers glanced against the inside of your palm, threaded along the webbing of your fingers, was exceptionally sensitive in a way that made you feel safe, loved, cared for deeply, and connected.

The warm weight of his body on yours made you feel safe, while the cock massaged between your pussy lips. His thrusts massaged them open without penetration until you could feel every fiber of yourself unwinding, melting into the sand.

You looked back at him, only to see that he was still gazing at the side of your face, waiting for you to open your eye. His smug, slight smile never left his visage. He squeezed your hands with a pleasant pressure, as if he were wringing them out. You realized in that moment that you were swollen inside, and quivering at the entrance.

Then he stops moving, intentionally. You feel him, all over you, weighing you down, trapping you in the imprint of fabric in the hot sand. You feel your heavy, puffy cunt lips throbbing against his stationary cockhead. You're sensitive as fuck. Even your heartbeat rocks your clit against his cock too much.

He breathes. He breathes out through his nose, his gentle panting breath trickles underneath your ear, down your neck. His chin follows, as he rests it in the crook of your neck with his jaw at your shoulder. His skin just feels like skin, yet you're electrified by it. You're so sensitive in your new form. He could stay like this all day. You cannot. He knows. You know he knows.

You know because when you look at him, his unchanging, stoic “I told you so” smirk is so purposefully calm, that you could consider it antagonistic. Even just this look he gave you had you dripping wet for him, to say nothing of the thick smooth, hot cockhead nestled against your clit, or the warm shaft that your heavy, fevered wet pussy lips spread themselves over. You give a defeated cry of pleasure and gave in. You tap out against the sand, to tell him he's already won, and he responds by firming up his grip on your hands and moving in for the kill. He devours your neck as he nudges your clit around and fucks you, alternating between the two activities until you cum beneath him.

Your orgasm does not slow him down. He slips his cockhead against the fluttering entrance of your cunt and pauses, as if testing something, as if something changed. The slick hole winks against him and he sinks inside to stay.

“You're so creamy after you've cum,” he purred.

His cock feels amazing, warm and firm and deep, exploring inside you. He pressed it past a spot inside you where the pressure feels so good that you feel you might die unless it, that spot in particular, is beat to hell. He pressed past it, but drew back, stroking slower and deliberate against this inner spot. You felt a sudden dying urge to feel him hammer his cock into this weak spot inside you. The change in your whimpers gave you away.

“This little spot right here is particularly velvety,” he said, “it's just gooey… no. Buttery. Right here.”

He let his cockhead glide against the spot in several slow deliberate strokes for emphasis. You groaned brokenly into the sand and bucked back into him. You had chills. You had goosebumps even on the hot sand. He held and pinned your elbows to your sides. Your nipples stood erect beneath you, the tips ground into the fabric as you bucked backward into him. He paused, held you down, let you rock and buck until the fit of passion washed over you, and you could still yourself. He didn't shush you. He just pulled back until his cockhead hovered a hair away from that sweet spot and he waited for you to collect yourself. You caught your shuddering breath, but couldn't look at him without feeling like you might cum again. You looked, and groaned deep. He acknowledged your desperation.

“I'm going to start fucking that velvety, buttery spot now,” he whispered toward your ear, “I do not know when I'll stop.

Scream if you need to. I've yet to create a single person that could hear you.”

His cock pinpointed that part within you that most yearned for it the instant he buried it in you. He pressed himself against it and wrung you out. You felt it as your own cum for him seeped out, dribbled down onto the fabric and soaked through the fabric into the sand.

Every stroke is devastating. You're loud as fuck and no one else can hear it. The skies open up and it rains on the two of you, mostly upon his back. Judging by his gentle moans, the rain itself seems to give him pleasure as the droplets hiss against his back, only to turn into steam. You could swear that you're causing it, that this rain is your rain. Suddenly you are cumming because it is raining, and it is raining because you have cum. When your palms tremble, he re-interlaces his fingers with yours to squeeze your hands in his, wringing you out, wringing out your anxiety, wringing out your pleasure, and possibly wringing out the very act of rain itself from the sky above. You couldn’t explain it, but somehow you knew.

You became the rain. And the rain became you. The rain became a goddess, and the goddess was you. The wetter he made you, the more the world flooded. He had no intention of going easy, but you found yourself clenching, squeezing, sucking him in, working yourself against his body as he worked you apart with his.

“That's it,” he huffed, “now, you're getting it.”

His breath grew ragged.

He said, “Rain.”

You nodded, not fully understanding.

“Rain on me,” he said.

Your eyes widened. He knew. You knew he knew. Rain pummeled your bodies in a deluge as you felt, not just the tension of your body snap, but the tension of your sudden ascent to godhood burst into creation, almost as a miniature version of the big bang. Untold energies from deep within your soul burst forth and spread out in all directions, spreading your power throughout all the realms, both giving you power over all the rains in the entire universe, and giving the entire universe the gift of your rains.

But you couldn't focus on the sensation of becoming a god, as Liu Kang fucked another blinding orgasm from you. This time, his composure cracked, and he came screaming with you in tandem, hot against you, his inner flame temporarily quenched by the deluge of your pleasure. The two of you thrashed against each other with abandon, riding out your pleasure together, before collapsing boneless into the soaked fabric atop the muddying sands.

The rains subsided gradually as the two of you caught your breath. You moved to roll over, and Liu rolled off of you onto his rain-soaked back. He closed his eyes and let the pitter-patter of the rain wash over his body, cooling him, turning to steam in the air around you both. You rolled onto your back beside him, then onto your side to drape yourself around him.

“Wow,” you said between heavy breaths.

“...Yeah,” he replied, still panting.

When you caught enough of your breath to speak full sentences, you could only think to ask one question.

“Did you just make me a fucking rain goddess?” You asked.

He nodded and laughed.

“You didn't think I'd let the first hot sex in my new era be mediocre,” he said.

“Holy fuck though,” you said.

‘Literally?” he teased.

“Okay yeah literally, but I'm starting to think I won that one,” you said.

He just closed his eyes and smiled.

“Okay wise guy, who won?”

He bit his lip and jerked his thumbs towards his chest, gesturing to himself.

“Ugh. You're impossible. Round two!” You demanded.

“You're losing this one too,” he said.

He rolled on top of you and peppered you with kisses. He promised you a second round, and a third - if you survived the second.

But first he needed to check progress in the hourglass. You peered into it with him and saw proto-vaternians in their pre-paleolithic era. A group of them surrounded a cairn, upon which sat a strange skull decorated with stones and feathers. You asked Liu Kang what it was; he told you it was a representation of you. You were the very first art, the very first goddess. You were the first to collect worship and be created in such a manner. You arrived in the new era just in time. The ancestors of the Vaternians had just created and worshiped their first god, which happened now to be you.

Had it not been for your intervention, Liu Kang would have been forced to grant this worship to the one you knew as Rain.

[To be continued.]

[Need more MK1 smut? Check the pin 📌]

[Need more Liu Kang smut? Check the Choose Your Own Adventure, below!]

#mortal kombat #liu kang mk1 #liu kang imagine #liu kang x reader #liu kang fanfic #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #liu kang x you #liu kang x y/n #no beta we die like outworld empresses

181 notes · View notes

kingtheghast · 1 year

Text

I wrote this as a comment on the actual vid but I'm posting it here cuz I'm feeling so much about it.

Okay you know why I like that ending so much? I think it made the most sense in the world- just hear me out.

Martyn was completely right, it IS a death game! All the formalities and concession seen before- an even match inside a cactus ring, waiting for the countdown of one final battle, blowing oneself up sky high to offer the first place- those don't need to happen at all. c!Martyn maybe went against the rules of the fight that he, Scott and Impulse agreed on, but the rules of the game? He followed them perfectly. You could even argue that it wasn't quite him at the end, even, not quite. The time being "tasty"- too reminiscent of the Watchers loving the taste of despair on the players' souls.

And then back to the Watchers. Every player has that intrinsic urge to try and survive, but Martyn? There's also an external force at play here, that wants him to win so, so badly. The Watchers want a show, and for some reason they're keen on c!Martyn putting on the main show for them. He's been hearing them since Dogwarts (and unless it's been said otherwise I don't see a reason to why he hasn't continued to hear them through the whole four seasons), putting that pressure on him… And after so long, he just has to crack, right? No time for games in a game of death, not when maybe, finally, he can fullfill "their will" and maybe stop this for good. He's no stranger to killing allies, anyway.

I think this ending was what was meant to happen. Play to win, everyone for themselves. This may be a stretch but remember Dogwarts? If Martyn had kept running instead of turning and trying to fight Scar after he killed his king, then maybe he would've lived. Finally, a policy of no attachments at the end, and it gets him the win, because maybe THIS is how the game is meant to be played.

And lore hat off, it was overall so fun to watch. From Cherri's amazing thumbnails, to the fast-forward of the watch, the skins, the hourglass, to even the little whistle of the tnt minecarts falling- and then of course, THE falling, once again. It made this pov very unique and I loved it so much. GG :)

#limited life smp #inthelittlewood #limited life spoilers #trafficblr #ghast.writing #ghast.post #counts as both i'll count it as both

732 notes · View notes

starspyder · 3 months

Text

𝘐 𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘔𝘺 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘕𝘦𝘢𝘵 // 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘞𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳

Summary: Dean Winchester is a hardened man. While he would love to, he can’t maintain a proper relationship due to his line of work. With how much of a sweetheart you are, Dean finds it almost impossible to keep you at an arm’s distance.

Warnings: implied age gap but it's not fully mentioned (reader is 27, Dean is 40 in this if ur curious), moderate angst, AQUAPHOBIA WARNING (almost-drowning), witches, canon-typical violence, Dean saves you hehe, fluff, lowkey grumpy x sunshine, Dean is in denial and thinks you deserve better than him, self-hatred, guilt on Dean’s part, you’re both into each other but he’s so scared of hurting you, Southern!Reader bc i said so hehehe, Dean is YEARNING

Gif from Pinterest

Word Count: 1462

Dean would never consider himself soft. Sure, he was good with kids, but only because he basically had to raise Sam by himself. Those experiences in his own childhood slipped from his hands like sand in an hourglass, and that little ball of softness went right with it.

Until one case in Louisiana, when it practically fell right into his arms.

He and Sam had been there tracking a coven of witches in New Orleans, like something straight out of American Horror Story. Based on the news reports, the victims were all friends or family of one of the suspected witches– likely her initiation into the group, to prove she was worthy. A young girl had gotten caught in the crossfire, simply because she was roommates with one of them, and accidentally led the Winchesters right to the coven.

He’d seen you right before they began the real hunt, having gone back to your house for a final round of questioning. Truthfully, he’d gone by to flirt his way into checking the house for any hex bags, but your witchy roommate was good about keeping it out of her living space. When he didn’t find anything, he couldn’t seem to deny your offer for a cup of coffee, while you did your best to inquire about the case.

“Why do you think Rebecca is involved?” You asked, somewhat nervously.

You sat across from Dean as he sat on the couch, cross-legged in a papasan chair, one hand tapping your thigh nervously and the other holding your floral patterned mug.

“We’re just trying to rule her out as a suspect, Ma’am. As soon as we do that, the sooner we can get to figuring out what’s been happening around here.” He had reassured you. “Are you sure you haven’t been noticing any irregularities in her routine?”

“We have each other on some tracking app, just to be safe, y’know? She tells me that she leaves her job at 7:30 every Thursday, which is a fifteen minute drive from here. Rebecca would always tell me when she should be home, just in case anything happened,” You sighed.

Dean’s eyebrows raised as he waited patiently for you to continue.

“About three months ago, she just kinda’ stopped doin’ it. She’s been going out a lot more than normal, with a big group of girls– met ‘em at work, she said.” “Do you know where they’ve been going?”

“Mostly just to clubs around town. I checked one day because she hadn’t been home all night and I was worried. Her last location was some place near Lake Pontchartrain, a few miles deep into the woods. I tried finding it online, but nothing turned up. Rebecca hates being outside, she hates camping and all that stuff, so there’s no reason for her to be there.”

“Do you happen to have an exact location?”

Your head shook. “It’s a big area, not a lot of cell towers.”

Dean leaned forward and took your hand, which had still been tapping against your leg. “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me, Sweetheart.” The next night, a Thursday, Sam and Dean had tracked the coven down to some ritual spot in the middle of the forest. It didn’t take them long, considering that half a mile out, they could hear terrified cries for help.

They found you, tied to a tree and begging for your life as the witches teased and taunted you– even the girl who you told them you considered your best friend.

“You know, Y/N, you’re just too sweet sometimes. You even let an entire coven slip under your nose, because you couldn’t think for a second that your best friend would ever hurt you.” Rebecca sneered, kneeling in front of you and tracing the swell of your cheek with a knife.

“Please, Becca, don't hurt me, I won’t tell anyone!” You cried, tugging against the ropes that cut into your wrists.

Dean was ready to jump out and kill her right then, but Sam’s arm across his chest kept him at bay. For now. “Don’t hurt me! Please, spare me. Killing you is the key to getting everything I’ve ever wanted! You’re the one who kept telling me to do what I wanted for once!” Dean watched as the large bonfire cast an orange glow over your terrified features, and his chest ached that he couldn’t quell that fear. It made him think back to Lisa, how much he cared for her. Only after a week, wasDean absolutely enamored with you.

It didn’t take long for the brothers to swing into action, killing the witches with surprising ease. They were plenty in number, but their skill couldn’t rival the brothers’ experience.

As Sam cut your ropes, Dean was chasing after Rebecca as she chanted out a string of Latin. By the time he killed her, the damage had been done and you were writhing on the forest floor, water coming out of your mouth like there was a well in your lungs.

You collapsed into Dean’s arms, grasping at your throat as your eyes watered, chest heaving through the pain.

“Find the fucking bag!” Dean yelled, maneuvering you on your knees, face pointed at the ground as you drowned in open air. Sam dropped to the ground, fumbling through piles of leaves and dirt to find the offending item. In the scramble, the hex bag was kicked near the fire, causing Dean to yank his gun out and shoot it, breaking the spell.

You gasped for breath like a fish out of water as you coughed up the last of the water wheezing and panicking from the fear. “It's okay, you’re safe.” Dean comforted, holding you to his chest as your body was wracked with sobs.

“I’ve got you, Sweetheart.”

When they were leaving town, Dean made one last stop to visit you in the hospital where you were recovering.

“How are you feelin’, Sweetheart?” He asked, sitting next to your hospital bed. The doctors had decided to keep you for observation for a few days, citing potential damage to your lungs.

“Like hell,” You said with a grin. “Y’all headin’ off?”

Dean nodded. “Gotta head back home. Do you have anywhere you’re planning on going once you’re out of this dump?”

“Not really. I don’t have any family I’m close to, so nobody to couch-surf with. I’m definitely leavin’, though. ‘M not quite sure where I’ll end up.”

He could hear the tinge of sadness in your voice. He knew what it was like to not have a family, a place to call home. He knew it all too well.

“Come with us.”

The rest was history.

Dean couldn’t help but think back to that day often. How lucky he was to have saved at least one life that day. Your life.

He often felt dirty. You were a bright young girl, who could’ve had a great future, had you not been caught up in the mess of their lives. Not once did you ever complain, going with the flow and learning what you could to help them. You were so selfless, almost to a fault; you put up with his temper, his yelling, and when he was feeling particularly annoying. You helped clean his wounds when he was hurt, and when he was once sick, you made him tomato and rice soup, that tasted just like what Mary would make when he still held his innocence.

Dean took his whiskey neat, while you stuck to those same girly cocktails that Sam swore he didn't like.

You were too good to be tarnished by the likes of Dean Winchester.

Dean would always be an eternally bitter man who was constantly angry at something. He rose early due to incessant nightmares, drinking black coffee at three in the morning to stave off his near constant exhaustion. When those nightmares were about you, as they often were, nowadays, he would poke his head in your bedroom just a few doors down, his heart rate calming at how soft you looked, wrapped up in your blankets and a small light on your desk casting a warm light around the room.

Your skin would always glow under the light, illuminating your features and the curve of your nose, how your hair fell into your face and how you would let out a wistful sigh every so often.

You were such a stark contrast to the man who stood in your doorway almost every night. If Dean was marble, you were a flower that could be crushed under it. He was the knife, you were the sacrificial lamb. No matter what universe, Dean would ultimately be your demise, just like everyone else in his life.

As he would gently close the door, he would take one last look at you and whisper one sentence.

“You’re too sweet for me.”

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #starspyderfics #supernatural #supernatural x reader

122 notes · View notes

louisfruit · 11 months

Text

He is SO jealous

#obey me #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me nb #obey me nightbringer #obey me hourglass event #obey me event #lucifer obey me #obey me lucifer #om lucifer #om! lucifer #lucifer om

45 notes · View notes

hp-hcs · 9 months

Text

(Fine, I’ll do it my damn self: part 1 of my silly lil mlm stories <3)

Gay Awakening (Chapter One) — smitten! mattheo riddle x male! reader

TWs: tobacco & alcohol use, internalized homophobia, homophobic slurs (once)

hella ooc mattheo. congrats, ur his gay awakening, and he’s an absolutely smitten lil gay mess for you but yk he’s trying

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Hey, dude. Who’s that?” Theodore asked, bumping Mattheo’s arm to get his attention, then pointing his fork in your direction. You were sitting at the very end of the table’s bench, wearing an oversized black muggle hoodie with your green tie loose and haphazardly slung around your neck. You were animatedly talking with, out of all people, a Hufflepuff. The Hufflepuff girl sitting at the Slytherin table either seemed to be completely unaware of the looks she was receiving, or she was steadfastly ignoring them. Your laugh cut through the room, the Hufflepuff cracking up with you.

“American transfer students,” Malfoy sneered. “They clearly don’t know the rules yet.”

“Oh, shut up, Draco,” Pansy rolled her eyes, resting her chin on her hand and looking at the Hufflepuff for a moment too long.

Draco scoffed, clearly offended. “Whatever. They’re probably faggots anyway.”

Pansy whirled around with a furious expression. Mattheo himself flinched slightly at the slur, which caused Blaise to look at him questioningly. Once Theo had waved Blaise’s unspoken question off, Zabini shrugged, leaning over and muttering in his ear, “Ten galleons says she brings up Potter.”

“-and everyone knows that you have a crush on Harry Motherfucking Potter, so maybe you should take your bigotry and shove it right up your-”

“Pansy?” you questioned, awkwardly standing across from her. “Here, ‘m supposed t’ give this to you.”

You leaned across the table to drop a folded up note in front of her, allowing Mattheo to catch a faint whiff of your cologne. You looked back down at the floor shyly, hurrying back to your spot at the end of the table.

“He’s hot,” Enzo shrugged, taking a bite of his toast. “I call dibs.”

“You can’t call dibs on the guy who just asked Pansy out, dipshit.”

“Actually, it’s a note from the ‘puff,” Pansy interjected, twisting her wrist around to show off the neat cursive written in a purple glitter gel pen. “She wants to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend, dipshit.”

“Yeah, dipshit,” Mattheo teased Nott. “Plus, I think Malfoy already called dibs on him, so tough luck.”

Theodore blew a raspberry at him, only a slight distraction from where Mattheo’s comment had fueled another Pansy-rant and left Draco sinking low in his seat as if he wanted to disappear.

~~~

“Alright, Zabini, you’re up. What classic novel is a satirical adaptation of R. M. Ballantyne’s The Coral Island?”

“Why the fuck would I know that, Berkshire?”

“Blaise forfeits! Sudden death round is down to just us, Riddle,” Nott crowed excitedly, watching as the score quill of the charmed muggle trivia game scratched Blaise’s name off of the paper score sheet, drawing a condescending frowny face next to it.

Enzo laughed, flipping over the little hourglass timer. “If anyone can answer in the next thirty seconds, they automatically win the game.”

“No idea,” Mattheo shrugged. Theodore spun his rings around on his fingers before shrugging too.

“The Lord of the Flies,” your quiet voice pipes up. The game players all look over in your direction from where you’ve just entered the common room—coming back from the library, it looks like, if the stack of books in your hands explains anything.

“What?” Draco asks, raising an eyebrow and sneering.

“The Lord of the Flies,” you repeat. “William Golding. Fantastic book.”

Malfoy huffed. “And who are you, exactly?”

“Y/N L/N,” you introduced yourself, nodding slightly in their direction before wordlessly disappearing up the dorm room stairs.

Mattheo stared after you alongside his friends, none of them immediately noticing the charmed quill writing your name down on the score card as the winner.

~~~

“C’n I bum a smoke?” your sleepy voice called softly from behind Mattheo. He turned around from his spot on the otherwise unoccupied balcony to see you rubbing your eyes, a fuzzy green blanket draped around your shoulders. He cleared his throat and nodded, fishing a fresh cigarette out of the pack and holding it out to you. His heart rate stuttered for a moment when your fingers brushed against his.

“Thanks,” you muttered, using a wandless incantation to light it. Mattheo leaned back against the railing, taking a drag from his half-finished cigarette and blowing the smoke out thoughtfully.

“Why’re you up? It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

Maybe it was his well-meaning-but-patronizing phrasing or the confidence-imbued late night cigarette, but you clicked your tongue once and said in a short, clipped tone, “Oh, shut the fuck up, you hypocrite.”

Mattheo barked out a surprised laugh, choking on his lungful of smoke and falling into a coughing fit.

“Language, L/N,” he teased.

“English, Riddle,” you snickered back.

He grinned at you, blushing a nice pink color as you both smoked in a comfortable silence for a moment.

“My roommate brought some girl back from the party he went to,” you say after a while. “Didn’t want to deal with all that.”

“Ah,” Mattheo nodded slowly. “Boys seem to lose all of their brain cells as soon as they come within a ten-foot radius of a hot girl.”

You snort. “Not all of us.”

“Yeah?” he questioned, in a way he hoped came off as nonchalant, even though he was internally freaking out. “No lucky lady piquing your interest?”

“This may shock you, but believe it or not, I’m not actually into girls at all,” you snort again, dropping the cigarette butt and grinding it into the ground with the toe of your sneaker.

“Really?” he asked in a high voice before loudly clearing his throat. “I mean- really? That’s cool. Uh, m-me too.”

“Yeah?” you glanced up at him curiously. “Huh. I wouldn’t’a guessed.”

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?” Mattheo blurts out, immediately snapping his mouth shut and clearly mentally facepalming.

“Sure,” you shrug.

“Huh?”

“I said sure.”

The poor boy was frozen in place, gaping at you. Taking pity on him, you make the first move—tugging his tie to pull him down to your level.

His hand finds the back of your neck, kissing you softly, much more gently than you would’ve expected.

When you break apart, he looks like he’s just been enlightened. Like, he might actually shout eureka! and run off.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “I’ve never kissed a guy before- holy shit!” he laughs freely, cupping your face to kiss you again.

“So what now, Archimedes?” At his confused expression you elaborate, “Muggle reference, sorry.”

He nods slowly, his fingers automatically winding their way into the hair at the nape of your neck. “Well… you could sleep with me tonight,” he offered after a moment. “Y’know, so you don’t have to deal with your roommate.”

“Oh, um, I’m not really that type of boy, Theo…” you trailed off.

“Oh!” his eyes widened in panic. “I didn’t mean to imply- I mean, not that I wouldn’t love- I meant we could just literally sleep in the same bed!”

You giggled, a bit relieved. “I’d like that.”

He took a deep breath, smiling hesitantly at you. “No funny business, promise. All at your discretion.”

He held out his hand to you, and you took it immediately, leaning into his side.

“So about that fight between Malfoy and Pansy…”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chapter Two

#harry potter #hp x male reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x male reader #mattheoxreader #x male reader #pansy parkinson is sapphic goddamnit #draco malfoy’s a douchebag #theodore nott is also here ig #hp #they’re my silly little guys #my friend was like “hey who would be mattheo’s gay awakening?”#and as a joke i said “me”#but tada!

329 notes · View notes

moonliteve · 2 months

Text

Headcanons for the early days of the deadly alliance

a second deadly alliance hc post has hit the hourglass......highly suggest u read my previous post about their past before reading this one!

FIRST IMPRESSIONS

shang tsung was surprised to see that damashi had found someone else to be apart of their scheme to take over the realms

he was a bit upset at first

does that mean i have to share the fruits of my labor? he thought to himself

quan chi, who was still kind of dazed by the whole stunt damashi pulled back in the mines, doesn't say much

he nods, quietly mumbles formalities and fumbles with his hands quite a lot

damashi tells shang they must work together in order to rule

shang was a bit baffled at the notion at first- the man before him who barely spoke and was covered in dirt and grime was supposed to help them somehow?

to which damashi gets a bit angry with shang, he explains the innate magic he possesses and his potential

"you would dare question me, shang tsung?"

immediately shuts down any protesting from him. damashi is his benefactor after all. surely he knows what's best for them

so fine. he'll try and work with the newcomer

the first few months did not go well AT ALL LMAO quan chi wasn't very talkative and he always practiced magic by himself

shang was always the one trying to initiate conversations and secretly observed the other sorcerer practicing

little did he know quan chi did the same

he's. still a bit nervous about approaching shang directly. since he was the later one to join and train under damashi's guidance he felt like his magic was subpar of shang's

he did appreciate the space shang gave him tho. he just needed some time by himself since now that he was out of the mines he was able to do whatever he wanted

day and night he would bury himself in books about all sorts of things, but he took a liking to architecture, biology and different kinds of magic- especially forbidden magic but he wasn't sure if he should be dabbling in that until damashi learnt about his interest in darker magic, that's when he started fully enabling him to practice netherrealm magic

it wasn't until sometime after that did quan chi ask shang for help for the first time

shang was more than happy to help to quan chi's surprise, he didn't think the other sorcerer would be as open as he would be atm

"it would benefit us to have a good relationship, quan chi. after all, any alliance that aids us with our plans is one worth having, is it not?"

he was glad that shang seemed to like him

he thought for the longest time just from first impressions that shang still disliked him, but they seem to be getting along well now

and this made quan chi willing to open up more to shang as well

happy days :)

the three of them were stationed at an abandoned outpost in a remote area, damashi would be the one helping them gather whatever they needed since he could shapeshift and he didn't want any of them to be under the rada

it wasn't anything fancy but they had what they needed

shang had a shitty little basement where he did his experiments, also where he kept syzoth in

quan chi didn't get to see the basement until shang decided to give him a tour. he had always wondered where shang was most of the time when it was mostly damashi who went outside

sure quan chi was shocked at first seeing all of shang's creations. but he wasn't one to judge

he knew shang came from awful conditions as well, they've both been mistreated by everyone around them so why couldn't they do the same?

plus the experiments intrigued him immensely

it was after shang showed him his basement did quan chi elaborately plan on building him a proper vivisection chamber

he wanted to show his gratitude somehow. along with damashi shang has also helped him a lot with practicing his magic

around the same time they had gotten insider info from damashi that the heir to the throne has tarkat

and with how skilled shang was at persuasion and sweet talking, they easily landed a place in outworld's court in no time with the promise of a suppressor/cure for the disease

they transferred their workspace to the laboratory that was provided to him, which was WAYY nicer than what they had before, just the look of it gave others a good impression of shang: a diligent scientist who was neat and efficient

with quan chi's architectural knowledge they built the vivisection chamber underneath the laboratory. shang planned out the whole facility and what he wanted to include while quan chi mainly did the construction since he was familiar with this kind of work, shang even created new specimens for a few extra hands

#they r soooo dear to me #they definitely had a really rocky relationship at first u can't tell me shang was a teensy bit jealous of quan chi #mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 shang tsung #shang tsung #mk1 quan chi #quan chi #deadly alliance #mk headcanons #mk1 headcanons #mortal kombat headcanons

62 notes · View notes

tangerinesgirl · 1 year

Text

The Hourglass

AFAB!Reader x Marquis Vincent de Gramont

Word Count: 1k

Rating: explicit, 18+, no minors

Warnings: smut, choking, slapping, denied orgasm, derogatory language, Marquis is an asshole, Dom!Marquis, Reader uses sex as a weapon, French swears

Summary: Reader is a manager of a hotel being deconsecrated. Think that scene in John Wick 4 in the Marquis' office but the hourglass is timing you having sex as well. Not a happy ending (well, for you anyways) and quite a dark fic. A few French swear words but I'm not a French speaker so I apologize profusely if they are wrong/the context is wrong. Please do message me. My first piece on Tumblr, so be kind! I have written on AO3 before though!

♡♡♡♡♡

Four guards escort you to the office of the Marquis de Gramont. You've heard rumours about the High Table but you've never had the honour of meeting any of them until today. They certainly made an impression on your hotel, threatening you with deconsecration with no solid proof that you've done anything wrong. This is why you're here. Since your grudge is with the Marquis and the Marquis alone, you left your concierge at the hotel, being useful and evacuating all the guests.

You brush yourself down out of nervousness, you have to admit you look good, I mean you do want to make a good impression afterall.

"Come", the voice says from inside the room. The guards open the massive double doors but don't follow you inside. The Marquis already has a handful of bodyguards inside.

Your heels clatter on the concrete floors, reverberating in the massive yet empty room, giving you a sense of power and femininity, a nice ego boost. The Marquis is staring out the window, wearing a very flattering grey three-piece suit. On closer inspection there are also small flecks of glitter. They catch the late night sun every time he moves. You thought you looked good but, damn. There's an hour glass matching the one at your hotel that the High Table so generously gave you, the blood red sands threatening to run out.

"Do you believe in rules, Miss Manager?", the Marquis has a very thick Parisian accent, you wish there were subtitles for this conversation.

"I do."

"And consequences?", the Marquis dramatically pours himself a cup of tea. He stirs in two spoons of sugar and licks the spoon, making direct eye contact.

"Indeed."

"So you don't deny you've been harbouring a fugitive?" It all makes sense now, you have no idea how he knows about John Wick staying at your hotel. There's bloody eyes everywhere. You can't deny helping Wick. You also can't seem to deny how attractive the Marquis looks right now. Or are you just attracted to his power? Or is it the suit? Maybe all three?

"Marquis, as much as I believe in rules, I al believe in second chances... and making amends", you step slightly closer and pick up the spoon on his desk, licking it in the same way he did moments earlier. His guards reacted immediately when you moved, unholstering their guns to point at you in seconds. The Marquis gestures for them to lower their guns, watching you the entire time, never breaking eye contact. He looks you up and down, your back arched and displaying your chest as you put on a little show, pulling it out with a soft but satisfying pop.

"Leave us", the Marquis orders the guards. They do as they are told. You were searched on the way in so they know you were unarmed. They probably also know of your ulterior motives and what's about to transpire, probably why they moved out so quickly. The doors clatter closed.

The Marquis taps the glass on the hourglass, the clink echoing around the room. "A lot of things you can do in an hour", states the Marquis.

"Come on now, give yourself a bit more credit", you lean over his desk to straighten his tie. He grabs your hand just before you do, "Don't think this will save your pretty little ass".

"You think I have a pretty ass?" is your take away. He throws you down on the desk, the cup of tea clattering to the floor. "Turn around". You do as you're told. He hikes up your dress and plays with you through your underwear. You let out a small moan. He stops briefly and you look back and see him unbuckling his belt. "I said turn around", he takes off the belt and wraps it around your neck. His other hand moves your pants to one side and he sheaths himself inside you in one fast motion, winding you. He's incredibly large, almost to the point where it hurts. You let out a gasp as he slams himself into you. He forces you down on the desk, arching your back for him. He grabs both of your wrists to keep them in place behind your back, still holding on to the belt. He slowly tugs on it as he thrusts himself into you. Over. And. Over.

"Such a slut, do you always offer yourself as forgiveness when you break the rules?", he babbles.

"Only for you, Marquis."

He swears under his breath, "fuck, I like it when you say my name... Do it again". He tugs on the belt again, the loss of oxygen turning you on even more.

"Marquis"

"Louder. I want all of the High Table to know how much of a whore you are", he removes the belt from your neck, and slaps it across your ass. You inhale sharply, shocked, "Marquis!" He does it again before suddenly turning you over to thrust into you again.

He grabs the end of the table for leverage, his other hand holding you down by the chest, playing with your breasts through your clothes. He feels even deeper from this angle, "I'm close, Marquis". Your orgasm is nearing, but just before you can come, he removes himself. You look at him, confused, as he strokes himself so he can finish. He lets out small moans and the occasional "putain" as he edges closer...closer... Then, he audibly cums, on your face, and on your dress. You're pissed, first you're denied of your orgasm and now your favourite dress is ruined.

He opens his eyes and tucks himself back in, grabbing and tying his belt, "Clean yourself up, fils de pute". You glance over at the hour glass, it's just about to run out. The Marquis catches your gaze and tuts. "Did you really think this would save your pathetic hotel?" The sands run out and there's an explosion in the distance. The Marquis grabs you by the neck and presses you against the window to watch. He grabs your hair so he can whisper in your ear, "these are your consequences".

#marquis de gramont #reader #reader x marquis de gramont #bill skargard #john wick #john wick 4 #vincent de gramont #john wick chapter 4 #marquis vincent de gramont

400 notes · View notes