#join me in sin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beefros-sin-bin · 4 months

Text

Goodbye 2023!

Thank you to everyone who sent in submissions - I have so much reading to catch up on now! 🥩💜🥩

If you have more fics to recommend for the SinBin, keep sending them my way.

I was originally going to break everything by category into the various P-boys, but the majority are one specific character. So we have two categories:

Joel Miller Fics

Other P-boy Fics.

I've included the comments (if there was one) for each fic submitted, but kept the submitter anonymous.

Beefro & the SinBin 🚮🥩💜

Joel Miller Fics (in no specific order)

Left in Lincoln - @toxicanonymity

Left in Lincoln. It's no secret my love for this series, and for my favorite Joelkémon, but this story is one I love not only for the slow burn sexiness but the horror elements in general. The balance of fear and horror with the soft, beautiful descriptions of the characters and setting make it one I return to over and over. The musical references and influence on the story is just the icing on the cake 🖤 Or ice cream on the pie, in this case 🍑🌸 Ty for the beautiful stories Toxy, and community to obsess over our mutual obsessions 🥰🖤

Scarecrow & Fear Thy Neighbor by @xdaddysprincessxx

So my first rec is @xdaddysprincessxx and her Farmer Joel series 🚜 All of her work is amazing but this one is so fun and soooo hot! (Heed the warnings though if you choose to read) I'm biased because I got to hear about her writing process and contribute some of my own thots 🤭 But it's not only sexy af (just like her!) but scary too!!! Be sure to read the sequel too 😉 She's not only a talented writer but a wonderful human in general 🖤

Help I’m Stuck! By @nosesitter

Reader gets “stuck” in the dryer. Luckily her father in law Joel just so happens to find her and helps 😉 her. When I read this I finally got the whole “oh no I’m stuck!” sex scenario lmao I always found it kinda funny bc in porn they’d be stuck in ridiculous spots but this fic? Fucking hot as hell. I get it now 🤷🏻‍♀️

I can be your pretty girl by @walkintotheriveranddisappear

Okay so I’m almost positive she is tired of me recc’ing & talking about this series lol it’s the hottest fucking fic ever. I genuinely am obsessed. It has everything. She deserves a Nobel peace prize for this idc idc.

A Secret Worth Keeping by @multiversed-daydreamer

Vamp Joel. I repeat Vamp. Joel. 🥵 and his vampirism is a secret and readers blood is his krptonite and she has to keep what they do hush hush. It’s so goddamn delicious 🤤

Fall into Temptation by @joelsgreys

Whew okay where do I start? Reader is the pastors daughter. Joel is Joel. 😏 they end up falling for each other and having a beautiful love affair. That has to be a secret bc her father would forbid it! Duh! It’s spicy, they have to sneak around to meet up with each other (again I am paraphrasing ish I don’t wanna spoil lol) and the religious tones in it? My baby is feeding me. This heals my religious trauma. Feeds my daddy issues and desire to fuck this old man.

Deliver Me From Nowhere by @atinylittlepain

It is beautifully written, touching a delicate topic with such care, it is truly an amazing work.

Just This Once by @talaok

Okay hear me out: this one brings the angst. The emotion. I felt so bad for reader, bby girl just wanted love. It tore me up inside. I had tears.

Self Indulgent Tendencies by @strang3lov3

So this was actually the first fic of Bugs I ever read. And. I. LOVED. IT. I’m trying not to spoil anything but long story short; Joel catches reader and fucks her to teach her a lesson. (I am extremely paraphrasing this lol) it still lives in my damn brain 🥵

Meet Me in the Back by @atticrissfinch

Sleazy gas station Joel. That’s it. That’s all. He is so sleazy and ugh I need his dick. And so does reader after she gets it. And she keeps coming. Back for more that is 😉

All You Wanna Do by @atticrissfinch

Now I am an angst queen. And boy this one is not for the weak. It is dark, please please please heed the warnings on this one. But personally I love this one. She has truly ripped my heart out, made my chest physically hurt. She invokes emotion so well.

No One But Me by @koshkamartell

This is a small blog's series that deserves to be promoted!

The Wrong Way by @romana-after-dark

Raider!Joel Miller and Raider!Tommy Miller x fem!Reader

Other P-boy Fics (in no specific order)

Dirty Uncle Ezra by @bonezone44

😏 yea I said it. Dirty Uncle Ezra. Hottest fucking concept I’ve ever heard. He’s so dirty and sleazy and ngh I’m already moaning. Also this beautiful human is an amazing artist so plz check out their art work 💜 (a note from Beefro: the fact that the age tag on this is 56+ made me laugh out loud)

Pascals Pursuit of Love! by @elvinaa (all the P-Boys!)

The innovation! It has all the P boys Bachelorette style. It’s so much like the show, it’s got twists and turns, there’s funny moments, cute moments. I look forward to each week aka each chapter lol I love it so much.

Apple by @romana-after-dark

Bisexual!Dark!Santiago Garcia, Bisexual!Dark!Frankie Morales, and Bisexual!Dark!William Miller x fem!Reader

46 notes · View notes

beefrobeefcal · 7 months

Note

Beefro - do you have a list of other chubby p! Character fic recs? We need a compilation of delicious side snacks!!

To Nonnie, Love Beefro

Well here's the thing... most of the fics I know of mention a softness to the highlighted P-boy, just a whisper of a tummy. Which I of course adore and appreciate. But I saw a need (because I'm a selfish little beef) and decided to fill it with my own filth. 🗑️💜🚮

But in terms of actual P-boy Tummy Time™️ realness... I have a few up my sleeve.

Now this is not a comprehensive list, it's just what I have off the top of my head. Friendos - add to this list, babies! You know what to do...

Smuttiest regards,

Beefro 👌🥩💜

Beefro's Bistro recommends the following:

Chubby Subby Joel Imagine by @neverwheremoonchild Joel Miller & F!Reader

Another Chubby Subby Joel Imagine by @neverwheremoonchild Joel Miller x F!Reader

Mystery Strain by @rebel-held Dieter Bravo x GN!Reader

A Good Workout by @rebel-held Dieter Bravo & GN!Reader

Let Me by @rebel-held Dieter Bravo & GN!Reader

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal tummy #chubby!p boys #chubby p-boy rights !!!#beefro recommends #beefro recommended #join me in sin #JMIS #🥩#you ask beefro answers #you asked beefro answered #P-Boy Tummy Time™️

25 notes · View notes

strangersatellites · 10 months

Text

pride, envy, wrath, sloth, gluttony, greed, ao3

Seven Deadly Sins Series (NSFW 18+)

lust (noun) - a shortcut to sexual fulfillment, but it doesn’t actually get you there. When you lust after someone, you are objectifying that person for your own selfish pleasure.

The summer heat beats down with a strength that must rival that straight out of Hell, Eddie thinks.

The thermometer Wayne keeps on the porch outside reading somewhere between ninety degrees and the devil’s asscrack and Eddie can feel all of it.

Sweat rolling down his spine even where he’s sat in the shade, sunglasses and baseball cap on and a glass of ice water pressed to the back of his neck.

You couldn’t pay him enough money to set foot in the grass, to feel the sun hit his skin and start burning it instantly.

The only thing keeping him even outside is Steve.

Steve who is washing his car like it's the most important job he’ll ever have. He’s paying attention to details that Eddie’s never even noticed, let alone noticed were clean.

But that’s not what Eddie’s paying attention to anyway is it?

No. There might be one thing in the steamy July air that is hotter than the sun, and it's the thoughts running through Eddie’s head. There’s nothing cool about those.

See, Eddie’s covered in a layer of grime and his hair has gone frizzy and he’s sprawled across the couch in a way he knows makes him look less like a man and more like a deflated balloon.

But despite the heat, Steve looks like a vision.

He’s got on a tight little pair of cut-off shorts that do absolute wonders for his thighs.

He’s ripped the sleeves off and cropped one of Eddie’s old band shirts, a white one at that, and Eddie’s eyes can trail all the way from his shoulder to his happy trail, view unobstructed.

He’s got his hair pushed back with a pair of sunglasses that started on his eyes but were apparently hindering his vision too much. Whatever. Eddie’s not complaining. He looks sexy with his hair pushed back.

It started out innocent enough. With Eddie mentally making a note to tell him he looks cute the next time he’s close enough to the porch.

But that was before he took a break from scrubbing to douse himself under the hose.

Because now Eddie’s old, white band shirt is stuck to his skin like glue. Like it was painted on just for him. Eddie loves Steve’s strong arms, he does. But he’s never going to pass up an opportunity to watch the way the muscles in his back ripple under his skin. The “Metallica” stretched across his shoulders is just icing on the cake.

When faced with the wrath of the sun, Eddie’s skin turns pink and tender. But Steve goes a beautiful warm golden and his freckles seem to multiply.

Right now Eddie’s eyes are glued to Steve’s legs. The way his muscles go taut when he squats down to scrub at his hubcaps. If he squints hard enough against the harsh afternoon light, Eddie can almost make out the indentions of his own teeth on the underside of his thigh. The fading purple bruise he’d sucked into soft skin, sweaty for an entirely different reason.

He thinks of the way he’s made those strong legs tremble and shake. The way he’s had them wrapped around his waist, his head.

Steve shifts and sits on the grass, leans back on both of his hands and throws his head back with a sigh. Eddie’s gaze gets redirected to the shirt clinging to his chest, his soft, but still strong tummy.

He wants to lick his collarbones and leave bruises on his neck. More bruises, that is. There’s already a few mottled across his skin because Eddie just can’t help himself. How could he? How could anybody help themselves with Steve in their lap whimpering their name like a prayer? Eddie gave up trying to hold back a long time ago.

When his eyes come back into focus Steve is stretching to reach across his windshield, back muscles stretched long and strong. If Eddie closes his eyes he can imagine the feeling of the welts he’d left across his skin. Claw marks drug all the way down his back. Can almost imagine the feeling that elicited them. The groan he’d pulled out of his boy in turn.

Eddie snaps his eyes open and is met with Steve’s lazy smile looking his way and he really can’t be blamed for the heat it sends dipping into his stomach and the strained huff he grits out.

The way Steve throws his head back again, this time in a laugh at Eddie’s distress, doesn’t help his case.

It gets the worst though, when Steve sets to detailing the hood.

Now he’s got his back directly facing Eddie. He’s bent over at the waist, hips popped back and his spine dipped low and Eddie’s not a praying man, he’s not.

But he’s about to send up one of gratitude because sometimes he can hardly believe Steve’s his.

And Eddie’s not stupid. He knows Steve’s onto him. He knows because he’d laughed. Because he’s peeking over his shoulder every few seconds to see if Eddie’s eyes are still on him. He knows because he’s tugged his little shorts up enough that the crease of his ass and his thighs sits right below the frayed denim hem.

There might’ve been a time where Eddie would’ve tried valiantly to redirect his train of thought. To stop himself from making a fool of himself. But now Steve’s his boyfriend. And Steve knows Eddie’s thinking about getting him naked more often than he’s not these days. He’s just as bad.

So Eddie lets himself sink into it. Into the visions of the bounce of Steve’s cheeks when Eddie smacks him. Of the tiny freckle just shy of his hole and how he loves to sink his teeth around it. The tiny heart tattoo on the back of his right hip that Steve totally should not have let Eddie give him, but they both love nonetheless.

He thinks about the way his normally strong voice, breaks and goes soft when Eddie fucks him. The way he squirms when he rides Eddie’s face.

The goosebumps that break out across his skin on the comedown and his glassy eyes and soft smile.

His eyes are wide open but he’s so lost in the memory of his boy’s ass pulled against his hips that he misses when Steve stops washing his car and climbs the steps of the porch. Doesn’t see him until he feels his weight drop down across his lap and hears Steve ask what he’s thinking about in a sultry whisper.

So Eddie really doesn’t feel all that bad about his thoughts burning hotter than the summer sun when he says, “Nothing, baby. Just you.”

#seven deadly sins series #lust #steddie #steddie smut #steve harrington #eddie munson #gin writes #join Eddie on his slow descent in to Steve-induced madness #welcome to the final show!#thank u all for coming on this blasphemous journey with me #about a month or so ago I asked the audience how I could make an installment about lust stand out in a series of smutty one shots #thank you to that anon who suggested that lust be the only installment without sex #you are a gentleman (gn) and a scholar #this one's for you bestie #there's a mean girls reference in here that if no on catches I'll cry #Eddie is Down Bad #right on my guy #I would be right there with you #i asked the group chat what mundane task steve should be doing #and then i went with the option they didn’t choose 🫶🏼#sdss masterpost coming in the a.m. probably also #okay bye kisses mwah #edit: forgot to add this this one was an excercise in writing without dialogue #dialogue is my specialty so i wanted to try something without any!#okay bye fr

251 notes · View notes

ratcandy · 3 months

Text

btw if it wasn't obvious in Musings ....I've been thinking about the Mushroomos a lot Like. They are just mushroom people right? Right. So like. What DOES that entail.

When unshroomed, Dr. Sozonius literally states he was in the grotto to study the Mushroomos, referring to them as "strange creatures, neither animal nor plant," so it's not like this is something considered Normal for COTL's universe, either.

so like. What is going on there. Why are there sentient mushroom creatures. What are they feeding on. Ignoring the follower forms for a minute which I assume just feed on whatever you cook, like, realistically, a mushroom creature would have to eat decaying matter, right?

Be that dead plant material or. Otherwise

I mean it makes total sense you'd find them in Anura in the middle of a bunch of cult activity if that's the case.

But also. It's like. Past Sozo saying that, it is Never brought up again. I would be totally willing to accept the Mushroomos as just totally normal variations of People that exist within the universe of COTL had Sozo not specifically said he was there researching them

If you want MY crazy morbid theory. Well I think that the Mushroomos are also parasites to some extent but they're just hijacking corpses of creatures sacrificed by Heket's worshippers . Because like. It's already Sozo's theme to be parasitized so it would make total sense if he's (if unknowingly) ""Leading"" a group of parasites (even if the idea that they're only harboring things that are already dead kinda makes them not parasites . It's. Parasitism adjacent)

That or they are just purely born of Anura, which is also a fucky wucky mushroom forest. And Anura as a location just has funky properties that creates funky things. This still comes around to mushrooms hijacking corpses though .because I'm just imagining sacrifices being left to rot in the dirt somewhere only to be claimed by Anura's soils and give a body that later will be a Mushroomo

or maybe I'm thinking too hard about the mushroom people in the funny lamb game. I don't know. Walks away

#clamtalk #cult of the lamb #join me in my wild speculation about things nobody thinks about. Take my hand #cotl spoilers #cotl sins of the flesh

35 notes · View notes

cookiuu · 6 months

Text

modern / human casshern + de-yassified friender 💥💥💥

#casshern #casshern sins #casshernsins #fanart #ppl pls watch casshern the fandom is dead #sins #neo human casshern #friender #dog #trying desperately to revive the casshern sins fandom #also join the casshern sins discord ahahhh (its literally me and 6 bots)

25 notes · View notes

fortes-fortuna-iogurtum · 6 months

Text

#having some rough days lately friends #break is coming up soon but I'm not sure how to feel in the meantime #I'm really struggling with understanding and handling well my feelings tbh #my main issue right now is that I have LONGED for community for SO long #and I hoped so badly that I would find it here #but now that I'm here and with community at my fingertips it feels like I cannot join in for some reason???#I'm struggling not to isolate and I'm feeling like I don't belong and I know better than to care about what people think #but I want to know what they think?? I want to know that people like me??#I want to know that people like me for ME not just in some vaguely spiritual way where they have to keep me from sin???#but I'm so tired lately and struggling to focus and I don't have people to talk to about it frankly here #and I can't shake the feeling that wanting people to lean on is sinful (because I should lean on God alone right? expecting other people #to fill the spot that I should have reserved for him is sin?)#I don't know anymore. I'm sorry for dumping this on you people here but I need somewhere to put it that isn't just my journal.#pray for me please. I feel like I can barely pray anymore myself. which is a terrible place to be when at a Christian university.#delete later

20 notes · View notes

good-beanswrites · 6 months

Note

Same Lights, Camera, Sing Your Sins anon here (you know if I'm gonna keep sending anon asks because of ideas, I need a shorter name...) Glad they're getting time to cool off on what happened during the trial. This project is hard on them all QvQ

Okay another thought! While working on the Trial 2 MVs, you think the prisoners get to watch everyone's first MVs? Like, maybe praise how each video looks ("Oh my gosh, Amane you look amazing!"), making comments with Jackalope's artistic choices (Shidou's flower mummy) and how stiff some of the prisoners look ("Fuuta you're walking like a tinman." "Shut up!"), some singing along to songs they've overheard earlier (Kotoko singing Weakness), and...er...shirtless Mikoto ("Amane don't look!"). Idk, this makes their filming for the next MVs sound more fun as they hang out.

Hello again!! omg Thank You for sharing once again, I’m obsessed with that 🥺🥺🥺 That's so wonderful picturing a little movie night... (And yes, feel free to pick a name :D else I will dub thee 🎬 next time given the theme lmao)

Okay so my original idea was that those first videos were actually watched on the down-low. There were a few days of nothing going on while the prisoners debriefed, made plans, and communicated their song ideas to the writers to start working with. (Minor detail but I think they’re cut off from the world still, no internet access though they can exchange a few messages/visits with family). They do, however, get access to the others’ T1 videos on their phones/ facility computers. Everyone gave permission to watch them, but there’s a bit of hesitancy. They haven’t started filming their new videos yet, so no one has gotten a look that deep into anyone else’s hearts. Just because they’re closer in this au doesn’t make them better communicators -- there’s still a lot that’s been left unsaid regarding near-murders and their true selves. So they only watch them in secret out of respect.

Haruka hides under the covers to watch After Pain on loop late into the night (going “she’s just like me fr”). Fuuta doesn’t care much for the others’ songs but tries to decipher the crimes as best as he can. He probably gets one stuck in his head the next few days that he finds really embarrassing. Mahiru gets very emotional over the other lovers, doing a poor job of hiding her sympathy toward Yuno, Shidou, and Kazui in the following days. Kazui is embarrassed to watch Throw Down so often, but Shidou is such a subtle man and it’s nice to see a more open side to him (who admits to lying as well). Amane takes a while to watch them -- they’re videos supporting murder and sin, after all -- but once she convinces herself it’s to help the experiment, she allows herself to enjoy them. Kotoko does the same as Fuuta but jumps straight into Fandom Mode and starts taking notes and analyzing the others’ videos. She keeps a secret folder on her phone of theories and symbolism and screenshots for reference.

HOWEVER

You have opened my eyes to Milgram Movie Night 👁️👁️

Everyone realizes they’re going to need to get comfortable with a lot of personal info really quickly, since T2 filming starts in a few days. Rather than Jackalope’s suggestion of undergoing a painful group circle talk, they go with Mikoto’s idea to all sit down to watch the videos together. This keeps the atmosphere up while they watch, allowing for many compliments and encouragement. It also lets the singer defend things in their video if they see fit, though most let it speak for itself. (Fuuta: “ah, back when I was a menace online.” “You’re still like that Fuuta.” “I’m a changed man!” “You got one guilty verdict and nothing’s even happened yet.”)

I love all of those reactions so much ahhhh! Amane getting showered in compliments like she deserves. Honestly, all of them getting showered in complements because it's what they deserve ;-; Playful teasing getting thrown around for everyone. Not even Jackalope is safe from their heckling (see: Throw Down flower person), and he's not even there to defend himself. There’s lots of blushing and eye covering during MeMe. And a singalong aspect!! I don’t know I didn’t think to incorporate that into the fic so far -- there’s nothing quite like heckling your friend onstage by echoing their lines really loud from the wings asdfsdfsd. Mikoto recognizes the video game from Fuuta’s and makes his whole day. Mahiru and Shidou realize they have both flowers and food in common, and get to talking. All at once, everything clicks into place for why Amane hated Shidou him so much.

I'm also realizing Kazui would have a Moment TM while seeing all the prisoners talking so comfortably about their deepest selves and struggles. I don't think he'd break down and open up just yet, but I bet it's be a pretty big change of heart for him to see such honesty/vulnerability...

Plus, most of my original ideas can still stand after the fact! There's no shame in seeing too much personal info about another prisoner, the only shame comes from just how many time the video was looped in private lmao

#milgram #thank you for sharing your thoughts waaahhh these have been making me sooo crazy!!!#and ive seen people using emoji nicknames and thought it was cute but feel free to pick an actual name haha #i would do anything for the vas to cover other trial songs ;-;#i just love the idea of them singing together so much...#im not a theater kid but i did dance and been backstage for some shows so i know what its like when the rest of the company is shouting out #the song thats currently playing for the dancers onstage #im just picturing the prisoners getting silly on set while the background track is playing and they start singing along #or like everyone shouting along with muu's big moment 'kawaiso nano!' or joining in the 'aaahhh-LOVE' in cat #ill have to keep that in mind for the t3 drabbles....#this made me remember theres a line in the fic insinuating kazui never saw harrow so maybe i go back and fix that later #because i always intended for them to see all the videos #i try to keep my fics fairly ship-neutral but theres definitely potential here for prisoners getting caught looping the singer they have #a thing for :')#lights camera sing your sins #ask

21 notes · View notes

biomic · 8 days

Text

typical

taiya you madman!

#if you beat me i'll join your gang and crank it for your boss you are INSANE #kendrix morgan died for our sins #super sentai for ts #boonboomger posting #boonboomger spoilers//

9 notes · View notes

loganofthenorth · 2 years

Text

Es is now added to my list of comfort characters I love her

Facade: You have been seduced by Es

Me: Yes, and? Es is my friend now I love her

#alter ego caramel column #alter ego game #es alter ego #es my beloved #new blorbo acquired #I laughed when he said I was now living in sin just cause I didn't want Es to conform to society #facade I follow logic but society and its rules are more illogical than my body's wants and needs #and we can choose what impulses we follow but that doesn't mean we're bad for having them if we choose not to or to follow them #I'm prepared to go on a rant defending Es against the facade #like the facade warned me not to trust her and I was like: Okay I'll protect myself #but then I was like: Wait no she's amazing #anywho rights for Es #I have now joined a fandom smaller than sanders sides #but oh well #hello the fandom of like five people has a sixth member

98 notes · View notes

beefros-sin-bin · 6 months

Text

Welcome to •my fic recs• blog! Got a fic to rec? Send it to me!

Currently only Pedro Pascal Character fics.

[In order of their initial recommendation]

The Fox and The Viper by @theywhowriteandknowthings Oberyn Martell x OFC

Hazy Days by @theywhowriteandknowthings Din Djarin x F!Reader

Douchbag!Frankie by @gracieispunk Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x F!Reader

The Run by @magpiepills Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x Santiago 'Pope' Garcia x F!Reader

SNAFU by @theywhowriteandknowthings Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x F!Reader

sing fever to the form by @thelightsandtheroses Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x F!Reader

Breaking the Rules by @theywhowriteandknowthings DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Entergalactic by @harryleatherfit Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x F!Reader

Cookout by @harryleatherfit Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x F!Reader

Upper East Side by @harryleatherfit Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x F!Reader

I’ll Know It When I See It by @bageldaddy Pornstar!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Desperation by @theywhowriteandknowthings Dave York x F!Reader

Whole by @theywhowriteandknowthings Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x Santiago 'Pope' Garcia x F!Reader

Popular by @harryleatherfit Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x Santiago 'Pope' Garcia x F!Reader

Where Were You on Outbreak Day? by @theywhowriteandknowthings Joel Miller x F!Reader

The Pilot & His Girl by @avastrasposts Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x F!Reader

Seven Minutes in Heaven by @tieronecrush Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x F!Reader

relief by @pedropascalsx Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x F!Reader

Precious Possessions by @exquisiteserotonin Dave York x F!Reader

Creep by @theywhowriteandknowthings Joel Miller x F!Reader

Pause by @talaok Javier Pena x F!Reader

Night Walks Series by @toxicanonymity Joel Miller x F!Reader

Haunted by @theywhowriteandknowthings Joel Miller x F!Reader x Tommy Miller

Shore Leave by @theywhowriteandknowthings Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x Santiago 'Pope' Garcia x F!Reader

Another Chubby Subby Joel Imagine by @neverwheremoonchild Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rendezvous in Reno by @theywhowriteandknowthings Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

But Baby It's Art by @magpiepills Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Your Summer Dream by @swiftispunk Joel Miller x F!Reader

All Over You by @theywhowriteandknowthings Javier Pena x F!Reader

Blood Money by @theywhowriteandknowthings Dave York x Max Phillips x F!Reader

Odd Couple by @idolatrybarbie Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x F!Reader

Hurts So Good by @theywhowriteandknowthings Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x F!Reader

Taungsdays, Am I Right? by @theywhowriteandknowthings Din Djarin x F!Reader

It's Too Early For This... by @trulybetty Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x F!Reader

Pleasure Principle by @nerdieforpedro Dave York x F!Reader

VS by @strang3lov3 Joel Miller x F!Reader

Mystery Strain by @rebel-held Dieter Bravo & GN!Reader

One Day at a Time by @rebel-held Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

The Princess & the Duke by @theywhowriteandknowthings Dave York x F!Reader

Worth the Weight by @gwendibleywrites Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Slasher Joel by @toxicanonymity Joel Miller x F!Reader

Send in the Clown by @covetyou Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Catch Me If You Can by @theywhowriteandknowthings Din Djarin x F!Reader

Table for Two by @hellishjoel Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x F!Reader

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #beefro recommended #join me in sin

47 notes · View notes

caffeinatedopossum · 1 year

Text

Oddly specific but did anyone else's parents describe brutal torture methods in excruciating detail to them (under the pretense that they could/would happen to them) or was that just me?

#if anyone is wondering the context for telling a child (yeah i was about 8 or smthn) these things i shall explain #tw for holocaust mention #so my parents were pretty extreme in their religion- they called themselves Christians but were perhaps closer to some cults #and my parents held the general belief that a lot of shit would go down during or before the rapture- that is the second coming of god #not just plagues wars and pestilence but also a second holocaust #in which gunmen working under the antichrist would break into every home and shoot anyone who didnt renounce god #(btw this was considered the only 'unforgivable' sin in their religion meaning you either get shot or go to hell)#so i was of course encouraged to get shot in this scenario. at 8 years old #not only that but apparently for some reason they (the gunman/antichrist people) were going to take us to... camps essentially #and use various torture methods trying to get us to join them #a lot of those torture methods were described to me- things like removing fingernails the brazen bull and rat torture #and i was always terrified of those things #i was also told very emphatically that this WOULD happen in my lifetime. the rapture that is not necessarily torture #but it was just always a possibility that one day i would have to be a martyr #i used to have a lot of nightmares about the rapture happening and how i had chosen wrong and denounced god #scared me half to death #oh yeah i was also told there would be nuclear war? so i was always irrationally afraid of that too #everytime i heard an airplane i would think it was a bomb #anyway this is why i appreciate people not trying to reconvert me as you can imagine this sucked

31 notes · View notes

ask-the-crimson-king · 18 days

Text

A Fate Determined

What a fall from grace.

He used to be quartered in a finely furnished cabin, with an entire library at his fingertips whenever he chose. He could find other scholars of the Great Ocean and consult them or banter with them. He could create marvelous experiments with his brothers, even if they sometimes had less than ideal results.

Now, he was sequestered away in the dingy underbelly of a beaten -- and most likely stolen -- warship that belonged to a band of miscreants and barbarians. Fitting, he reasoned, considering what had passed.

He was armored, even though today was not to be a day of skirmishing and combat. He had long since learned the value of maintaining some level of protection, especially in times between fighting. His associates, for he was not permitted to call them cousin nor even ally, were negotiating. With whom, the sorcerer did not know, for he was told it was not his right to know.

Being a sorcerer, most would reason that he could just pluck the information he wanted from the minds of the unwilling, and they would be correct.

If his new "boss" was not a member of the dreaded XII alongside most of the members of this miserable band. Though whether he could even refer to them as members of a Legion felt dubious. The change brought about from the Siege and these few... what, centuries now? had changed them so fundamentally. They were fracturing and breaking away. Most of the Legions were.

After all, their primarchs were beginning to abandon them, and they were without direction and unity.

His own Legion had fractured long before the others. Recent events only broke them further.

He shakes his head to clear the thoughts. He'd rather not entertain and remember what had happened.

For now, he needed to focus. The leader of this warband had instructed him to formulate a ritual to summon forth a greater daemon of Khorne, and-

A knock at his door stops his thoughts.

"Hey! Sorcerer!" comes a gruff shout. Pachua. A former member of the III, usually the one sent to fetch the sorcerer since most of the others in the band could hardly stand to be near him. The sorcerer once had a fleeting vision of Pachua holding the head of the current leader, Ukwtakun, and using it as a bargaining chip.

"Yes?" the sorcerer replied, already rising from where he had been sitting.

"You're called to the command deck," Pachua said.

"Any particular reason?" the sorcerer asked as he opened the door. "Am I assisting in navigation again?"

"Don't know, don't care to know," Pachua said with a snort. "I have other things to attend to." Before another word could be said, the other Astartes stalked off, the dim light from the overhead lumens reflecting the garish colors and fresh trophies he had recently adorned his armors with. With a sigh, the sorcerer quickly made his way through the ship, coming to the doors that opened to the command bridge.

Immediately he was greeted with an unfamiliar sight. Two Terminators, painted in crimson edged in silver, barred his way. Scripture was both etched into their plate and pinned to their armor in various scrolls. He took notice of several symbols meant to ward away the creatures of the Immaterium -- unsurprising, given that these two were of the XVII.

"Greetings," the sorcerer said to them. "Ukwtakun summoned me."

"You are the sorcerer?" one asked.

"I am." Perhaps the XVII were not aware of the changes that had befell his Legion. He knew his cerulean and gold plate seemed strange to them.

"He is speaking with our Apostle," said the other.

Apostle. The sorcerer was still uncomfortable with the word.

"May I ask that he be informed of my presence, at least?"

"We've sent word along," the Terminator said, sounding annoyed.

A silence stretched out between the three of them. While he awaited clearance to enter, his mind wandered, as did his other senses. Despite the suppression required to avoid getting killed, he could still keenly sense the auras of those around him.

A reliable talent to help avoid taking a fist or an axe to the face.

He thought it a hold-over from his time as part of the Atheanean Cult from before the Fall. Such designations were archaic, now, and his mastery over the arts of old was giving way to new talents and curiosities.

Some were not as new as he let on when he was still with the Legion, but he had wanted to keep up appearances then. Part of him did find it amusing that his ambitious brother had been right, in a way. There was more to the disciplines than what the Five Cults provided.

Soon enough, the doors opened, and the sorcerer was allowed to enter. He gave a nod of acknowledgement and respect to the two Terminators as he entered, though who he saw left him stopped in his tracks.

Standing near to the brutualized warrior that was Ukwtakun was a face the sorcerer had not seen in centuries. Scripture marched down the left side of his face, his crimson armor left unadorned aside from the occasional lines of scripture or wards that looked similar to those borne by the Terminators who had stood sentry outside. A crozius arcanum rested near his feet.

"There you are!" Ukwtakun's voice ripped him from his momentary stupor. The warrior's face was nearly bisected by a massive scar that ran from one temple to the opposite corner of his jaw. A wild swing from a Blood Angel, he had said. It nearly took his eye out. The sorcerer gave a brief bow.

"How may I-"

"I called for you hours ago," the warrior interrupted. His lips pulled into a snarl. "Where were you?"

"In study and mediatation," the sorcerer answered carefully. His eyes flicked between the berserker and his guest. The XVII Legion warrior remained stoic. The sorcerer had caught a momentary glimpse of recognition flickering across his aura, but now his was being drowned out by the ever-burning rage his current "boss" held within him.

His answer did not sit well.

"Looks like I have to remind you that you come when called for, sorcerer," Ukwtakun snarled. "You're only here because you're convenient, but I'm sure we could always replace you."

The sorcerer said nothing to this. It was true. They happened to find him as he was fleeing, and they could have butchered him, but did not.

"I understand," he said meekly.

"I don't think-"

"Is this the time for this?"

The voice came from the Word Bearer -- the Apostle -- that Ukwtakun was dealing with. It was soft yet commanding. Both the sorcerer and the berserker looked at him.

"You're on my ship, Book Thumper," Ukwtakun growled. "If I have to deal with an insubordin-

"And you are requiring my word to resupply at Ghalmek," the Word Bearer countered. "And, if my assumptions are correct, this is the sorcerer that you require to uphold your half of our bargain."

Silence. Uneasy silence. Ukwtakun's aura diminished slightly under the weight of the presence the Apostle emanated.

"I'll deal with your bookworming later," Ukwtakun spat towards the sorcerer. He nodded, already beginning to prepare himself for what was to come. If he was lucky, he would only maybe lose a limb for this.

"So you are his psyker," the Apostle said, now focusing his attention on the sorcerer. His eyes were dark, but they were warm. Open and inviting, matching the rest of his body language. "May I have your name?"

"I-"

"Doesn't deserve it," Ukwtakun said with a snort. "Ask him your questions so I can have him dealt with."

"Fine." The Apostle sighed. "You are experienced in diabolism, yes? Have you begun experimenting with the creation of bound weaponry or armor?"

"I... Yes, somewhat," the sorcerer answered. Something was strange. He recognized this Apostle from the times before the War... didn't he recognize him? He thought he saw a flicker of recognition before, but it could have been a mistake.

"Somewhat?" There was no malice or derision in the word.

"I have not been granted the space nor the proper supplies to enact the proper experimentation," the sorcerer answered. He flinched as he felt a flare from Ukwtakun, who had reached for his chainaxe.

"You filthy-"

"And if you were provided such materials," the Apostle went on, one hand gripping the arm of the berserker, "you could perform such experiments and yield positive results?"

The sorcerer hesitated. His hearts were pounding. He had not felt this much stress since-

"Are you trying to steal my sorcerer?" Ukwtakun asked, breaking away from the Apostle.

"It is not stealing," the Apostle replied cooly. "You promised me a sorcerer who would be able to assist in the binding and creation of weapons and armors, in exchange for repair and resupply at Ghalmek so that you would not have to go through the Iron Warriors while you are working with elements of the Emperor's Children."

Silence again.

"We still have need for him," the berserker said.

"It sounded to me as though you are ready to replace him." The Apostle tilted his head. "Have I misunderstood your earlier declaration of, 'you're only here because you're convenient'?"

The sorcerer found himself stunned and blinking. He stared with his mouth slightly agape at the Apostle, whom he swore gave him the smallest of smiles. Again, recognition flickered over his aura.

He does remember!

Hope flared for the first time in ages. Could he get him away? That's what it sounded like he was trying to do. He silently pleaded with whatever powers were out there that he was successful.

The berserker was shaking with barely suppressed rage. The two had their eyes locked on each other; one's face a rigid mask, the other keeping calm and composed.

"Fine!" Ukwtakun said abruptly. "Take the stupid sniveling rat. So long as you can get us our stuff, you can have him."

"Gladly. I'll have word sent that we are on the way." The Apostle grabbed his crozius and put it over his shoulder, looking to the sorcerer. "Come with me. I would like to have a conversation with you in private."

"Of course," the sorcerer said, offering a bow, "but my things-"

"Please, go retrieve them," the Apostle told him. "Allow one of the Annointed to accompany you. Abdima?"

One of the Terminators by the door put a fist to his breastplate. The sorcerer offered a salute and another bow, swiftly leaving while the Apostle and Ukwtakun shared some final words.

His mind was racing. Hope felt strange and new to him. Freedom at last from the confines of his dingy hole, freedom from the ever-present stress of existing around trigger-happy berserkers.

Freedom to experiment and allow his talents to roam free once more.

They made it back to his current room, and he sensed the unease radiating from his Terminator escort. It was, admittedly, a mess. Strange paraphanalia and a stack of old journals and musings crowded the room, which was truly only about as wide as two paces for an Astartes.

Human quarters, obviously.

For the first time in an age, the sorcerer unfurled his mind beyond the tightly bound cage he had made for himself, scooped up his belongings in a telekinetic grasp, and nodded to the Terminator. If he encountered any difficulties from the band, he expected the Terminator to help diffuse any open aggression.

As they walked back to reconvene with the Apostle and the other elements of his retinue, he dared to feel excited. Anxiety, ever-present, also flooded through him. It was not fear; it could never be. But he was uncertain. This had to be too good to be true. There was something he did not see, surely.

The thought dampened everything, even after he saw the Apostle offer him a genuinely warm smile and even as he was welcomed aboard the Word Bearer's vessel. It was called the Unitas Abyssi, and it was decorated in just the way the sorcerer had imagined any ship of the XVII would be.

Thousands of mortals moved about, offering prayers and hails as the Astartes passed by. The smell of incense burned throughout its halls. The sorcerer felt the attentions of the denizens of the Great Ocean no matter where he went. The Apostle was leading him down to his own personal chambers at the heart of the ship, the two of them accompanied by an entourage of Terminators.

The walk was a silent one, and the Terminators had been dismissed once they made it to the Apostle's quarters. Beyond the doors lay a great central chamber which had four other rooms that split off from it. The room itself was occupied by the beginnings of a garden, with various troughs and small plants slowly breaching a surface covered in strange mulches. It smelled earthy. A few benches had been arrayed around a focal point in the center, upon which a mosaic depicting the octed star of Chaos had been placed. The Apostle sat on one of them, his back facing the far wall that stood mostly blank and bare.

"Now that we are away from that blunt berserker," the Apostle had said, gesturing to a bench near to him. The sorcerer went and sat down. "May I have your name?"

"I..." he paused. "I am Zikar-Sin, sir."

"Zikar-Sin," he said, nodding. "I thought you seemed familiar. I am sure my introduction is unnecessary."

"So you did recognize me!"

"Of course," the Apostle said with a smile. "How could I forget the Son of Magnus who challenged me in the middle of a symposium to defend my intellectual and theological honor?"

"And how could I forget the Chaplain to whom I served secondment with who dared to call Prosperine food 'too sweet' after sampling nothing but sweets for an afternoon?"

“That I sampled at your insistence, need I remind you.”

Zikar-Sin smiled. "It is good to see you Ans'ar."

"The feeling is mutual. I had feared for your loss after what befell Prospero," Ans'ar said. Zikar-Sin's bright expression darkened, and his eyes turned away from the Apostle. He felt a hand rest on his shoulder, and when he looked up, he saw the face of an aggrieved friend. "I am glad to learn you live."

The sorcerer did not know how to respond to that. His mind was becoming full of thoughts of what had happened, and his brain uncomfortably reminded him of the complicity of the Word Bearers in the wake of the devastation of Prospero.

It was, after all, Horus who had ordered it done.

"I did not mean to stir up hurtful memories-"

"It's fine," Zikar-Sin said shortly. He flinched, then curled a bit into himself. "I did not mean to interrupt you."

His eyes flickered away from the Apostle. He felt him take his hand away from his shoulder.

"Where have you been?" Ans'ar asked quietly. "How did you come to be with a group of World Eaters?"

"That is a very long story," Zikar-Sin said with a tired sigh. The Apostle snorted.

"It is good, then, that I have a very long time to listen." He stood. "Wait here." He walked into one of the adjacent rooms. Zikar-Sin heard some light rummaging and the clinking of glass. When he returned, there was a bottle in one hand and two glasses for wine in the other. Zikar-Sin suppressed a snort of his own, but there was a definite glint of amusement in his face. Ans'ar caught it.

"What?"

"Are you going to light some candles and bring out flowers next?" Zikar-Sin asked with a chuckle. Ans'ar paused, then laughed himself.

"Come, now. There won't be any flowers aboard this vessel for the next few weeks at least." He sat down and poured each of them a glass. Zikar-Sin recognized the vintage from its scent alone. It was sourced from Vharadesh.

He took his glass with a small thank you. Ans'ar nodded and set the bottle down next to him.

"Now that I have cleverly socially trapped you," he said, taking a sip of his wine. "Let us hear your tale of woe."

Zikar-Sin looked down at the deep crimson of the wine inside his own glass.

He inhaled and exhaled, then took a swig of it that drained nearly half the glass. It had been far too long since he could enjoy anything with proper flavor in it.

"Alright. Let us begin in the aftermath of Terra, and Ahriman's folly."

Lightning danced and surged around them all. Immense power, the likes of which had only been invoked a handful of times before, pulled at all of them. It felt as though his soul was being stretched thin and pit through a sieve. The world shook.

He fell to his hands and knees, huffing and panting. His eyes burned. The tides of the Great Ocean beat against them all, smashing them upon unseen rocks and distant, unknown and intangible shores. It took immense strength to remember how to think and how to breathe.

He did not know how long this sensation would last. He did not remember what happened between being on the ground and being back on his feet, potentiality boiling around him, and screaming for his brothers as their bodies and minds were turned to dust and sealed away within their armor. Sorrow and disbelief filled him; he began to draw upon the power still roiling around him when he felt it siphoned away. A greater storm was gathering in the Great Ocean. A hurricane of fury and malice, all directed and pointed towards the thing that had started this all.

A father on his way to kill his favored son.

In the wake of the disaster, there was despair. There was anguish. There were tears, though he would never admit it to anyone else.

Despair fed into desperation. He hardly knows what he is thinking by the time he has everyone gathered.

Eighteen. Eighteen of his brothers, now damned into an existence of barely-sapient automata. Only three of his still-flesh brethren knows what he is about to attempt.

He prays. He hopes, so fervently, so desperately, that this will work. If it can work on them, then it can work on everyone, can't it? Surely it must!

The ritual begins. There is laughter. There is unfaltering focus.

And it fails.

Eighteen souls are devoured. Eighteen souls are torn free and sent into the Immaterium.

And the one who conducted it all runs.

He flees, as far and as fast as he can. He even stole a ship to leave. He grabbed only what was around him at the time; nothing but a handful of grimoires and talismans, alongside the armor he wore.

But he flees. To where, he did not know. He thinks that perhaps he will die in isolation. Or perhaps he can work on undoing his mistake, and undoing whatever had been done to the Legion-

And that is when he is found. His place of refuge boarded and searched by a band of warriors looking for things to scavenge.

And my, what a prize he was.

They were lost, having butchered their own mortal navigators and astropaths. They very nearly gave him the same fate before the Emperor's Child, Pachua, intervened. They needed a psyker. He was tired of floating aimlessly, he wanted to find a place of true war again.

And so he had been abducted and forcibly recruited, acting as navigator for a band of insane berserkers. He had learned swiftly that his psychic talents had to be suppressed as far as he could, otherwise he was going to be fighting the warband each moment he was within eyesight.

There he had remained, an exile and outcast, grieving and dreading the future of his Legion, left to fester in the underbelly of their miserable ship, until Ans'ar happened to find him.

Silence follows. Zikar-Sin finishes his glass of wine.

"I knew the plight of the Thousand Sons was a difficult one," Ans'ar said, "but I also know you do not deserve such mistreatment."

"It matters little what I deserved."

The sorcerer shrugged. "Though, respectfully, I disagree. My actions led to the destruction of eighteen of my brothers. Total and complete, beyond what this... this Rubric did to them." He shakes his head, then hesitates. He removed one of his gauntlets, revealing a hand that was covered in feathering. Most of the feathering was small, and some scales had begun forming upon the segments of his fingers. Small eyes blink from between his knuckles.

"Flesh Change?" Ans'ar asks carefully, leaning in closer.

"Mutation from our new patron," Zikar-Sin said bitterly. "A reminder of my failures, and a reminder of the fate most likely to consume me one day. The ritual that Ahriman conducted was supposed to scour the Flesh Change from the Legion for good. It did. But it does not mean we cannot still be 'blessed'."

The Apostle's face darkens. Most of what Zikar-Sin is speaking must surely sound like blasphemy and sacrilege to him.

"I would like to offer you something," he says slowly.

"Is it some escoteric item of note?" There is a small eye-roll.

"Better. I want you to formally join my Host."

Zikar-Sin raised a brow. "Was that not already the plan?"

"Not quite. I was willing to have you on in a manner similar to how Ukwtakun had you -- an auxiliary sorcerer we had on hand. But I would like to formally induct you into the Legion."

"You think I would forsake the Thousand Sons?"

"Have you not already?"

The question disarmed him. He was left blinking like a fool, his mind genuinely going blank.

"I... suppose I have," he said slowly, his brow furrowing.

"If you need time to think on it, then I will grant it to you. But for now I will arrange for you to be given proper rooms and a proper place for you to conduct rituals and experiments," Ans'ar said, offering more wine to him. Zikar-Sin gently declined, though the Apostle filled his own glass. "You will be given the respect and room you deserve to operate as you please. Within reason, of course, I am not going to let you take the mortal thralls and whore their lives away without purpose."

The sorcerer bit back a retort about the practices of the Word Bearers as a whole, and only gave Ans'ar a nod of acknowledgement. He handed back his empty glass and stood, sensing that their conversation was over, for now.

"I will have Abdima show you to your new rooms. I would like to speak again in a day or so about your first experiments," Ans'ar said, affecting a more business-like tone. Zikar-Sin nodded again.

"As you wish." He paused. "How should I address you in front of the others? Surely they would take offense to an outsider calling you by your name."

"You may refer to me as Apostle, as they do." Ans'ar drank from his glass, then set the empty glasses down and stood, walking over to Zikar-Sin. He put a hand on his shoulder, then pulled him in for a quick embrace. "I mean it. I am glad to see that you are alive, old friend."

The sorcerer was caught off-guard, and awkwardly returned the gesture. "As am I to see you." The Apostle pulled back, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder before he called for his Terminators -- his Annointed, as Zikar-Sin would learn to call them -- to escort him to his new rooms.

More freedom took some getting used to. Being able to unfurl his mind and senses and not immediately detect murderous intent aimed directly toward his person was a good change of pace. Of course, there was always suspicion, he knew it would be foolish not to expect it.

He was an outsider, but he would only be the first of many to join the 17th Host.

His presence became part of the background hum of the operations of the Host. The Annointed greeted him by name after a few short weeks, as did some of the Astartes he began working a little closer with. Some were diabolists, but they had learned sorcery through means similar to that of Kor Phaeron.

Having the natural connection to the Great Ocean and the decades of experience that Zikar-Sin could provide was invaluable.

Eventually, Ans'ar came to him with the offer again. A chance to be fully and completely repatriated into the Word Bearers. The hesitance he had from before had mostly melted by this point.

And so, Zikar-Sin was no longer Zikar-Sin of the Thousand Sons, former adept of the Cult Athaenean of the Fifth Fellowship. He became Zikar-Sin of the 17th Host, Master of Possession, as he would remain for the next ten millennia.

#its zikar-sin posting #thousand sons #warhammer 40k #aka how he wound up joining the WB #aka ans'ar saved his ass #sorry for it being so long #kinda got away from me

6 notes · View notes