#♕*.drabble

[bullyberry]

She could cover the bruises and the marks of yesterdays ordeal. But what's the point? Everyone knows already. They're all talking about it, there'd only be more questions if she did cover anything. One of her 'friends' approaches her, slowly like a criminal approaches their executioner.

"Stella?" They say her name and only now does she realize how much she hates the sound of it.

"What?" Stella questions not bothering to look directly at the coward who's come to speak with her. Only glancing to her from over her shoulder. The girl speaking has a name, at one point Stella knew it. She didn't take the time to remember it. Why bother with these girls. None of them really cared for her. None of them really mattered to her. None of this mattered to her.

"Are you... Okay?" That question elicits an eye roll from Stella, causing her to turn her attention away and the girl immediately knows she made a mistake in asking it. "I-I mean of course you're okay. Why wouldn't you be? I just mean..." She hesitates making Stella tap her finely cared for talons on the table awaiting the next series of inane questions. "Do you want us to deal with that girl for you? We can you know. We'd-"

Before she could finish however Stella was standing from her spot. In one movement she has her hair flipped over her shoulder along with her backpack. She tilts her head to the side just enough so that icey stare of hers meets the anxiety filled stare of her so called friend.

"Do whatever you want. But just know. If that girl leaves this school, you will be taking her place." It's with that dreadful remark she leaves. Only a chill remaining in her wake as she disappears around a corner.

[rosehearrt]

He’d arranged for all of it far in advance, gifts that would be send home alongside this month’s report on calorie consumption and educational progress - with the usual addition of updates on his magic skills as well. The finest red roses that he’d grown and pruned himself had been wrapped up with a matching ribbon in an immaculate bow ( and a small card attached ), and a Magestone he’d harvested from the Dwarf’s Mine with much effort and searching which he’d painstakingly used his own magic to fit to a beautiful ring he’d acquired at the Mystery Shop ( perhaps not high class enough to fit mother’s standards, though he didn’t have much money of his own at all, beyond what meager prize funds he’d been given for placing in competitions with Vorpal ), both casted with preservation and protection magic for their journey back to the Queendom of Roses. 

Mother never quite seemed to like his gifts very much, though certainly she’d dislike a lack of effort or thought even more. It was simply the way she was, and it helped him continue striving to be better in every way, even in this case  - where he made the extra effort to create an even grander gift than last year’s dish set. 

Of course it felt strange, to watch others prepare gifts without a sense of looming dread, or the feeling of pressure on one’s shoulders threatening chaos if perfection wasn’t delivered. Deuce had smiled so tenderly ( after his initial embarrassed flailing, of course ) when Riddle looked over his shoulder to see the card he was making by hand. And Cater had laughed with a lilt that spoke true sincerity as he showed off the slideshow he’d made of the past year’s holidays and different family occasions, complete with special effects and interesting transitions. Ace had acted put upon to be asked and given him a whole dramatic show about it, but even he’d proudly produced the crafty box he’d put together containing different compartments with different goodies, a magic trick his mother could open when he wasn’t there to show off for her himself.

And then there was Trey, everything about him warm, from his expression to his body language as he decorated his mother’s favorite lemon drizzle cakes. He’d told Riddle once, that even though they owned a bakery, it was still special to his mother to eat things made for her by her children. He remembered being puzzled by the notion. And to this day, he still was. For one’s mother to be happy to receive something no matter what it was, for the thought to mean so much more than the action. And for one’s child to prepare something without a pounding in their head or a tightness in their chest, or the stabbing ache of nerves in their stomach.

It was all quite curious. Deuce’s smile. Cater’s laugh. Ace’s pride. Trey’s warmth. Had the others unlocked some secret he was not yet privy to? How do I earn it, his heart had screamed the words all his life, perhaps before he’d even been born, needing her to keep breathing now the same as he did when they were physically attached those months she carried him inside of her. What must I do, it’d cried through a childhood where even right answers were wrong, when not even abiding the rules could always keep him safe, not when they changed like the weather to suit the one who set them. When will you love me?

The Overblot had been awful. It felt like something had been severed, sharp like a knife taken to their very connection. It’d felt like his head being yanked free from years of submersion underwater. Like realizing something he'd never wanted to understand.

It felt like clarity, and it felt like pain.

…Another year. Another Mother’s Day. Perhaps this one would be different. Perhaps he’d receive a smile: an embrace was too much to ask for, but an upturn of her lips, oh, it would make his poor heart soar, so starved for the approval he’d lived his life chasing like one of his hedgehogs running on their wheel. Passing by another poster reminding students of the holiday, and then another advertising the school’s mailing service, he tried to put it out of his mind. Perhaps a trip to the library would do the trick.

Riddle had always been good at lying to himself.

But truly, he did not much care for today.

[arcstral]

— ‘  white.  ‘  —

Asleep but not asleep, awake but not awake, a thousand years spent without movement begets phantom sensations of disuse and atrophy even in so formless a spirit. With neither arms or legs to lament, his fretted qualms come instead in stranger forms; sore, rusty hinges and blue-green metal oxidized by the inexorable forces of nature, the degrading agent of time acting upon his vessel.  .  .

But these sensations are without logic in the end. He is of course no ordinary ring. The golden band of the Hero-King much alike true gold fails to truly rust over time. Resplendent, shining, divine and true, he is reinstated with the power to view the world through open eyes. Rousing not to the familiar vault of Lythos in which his kind is historically curated, or to sacred chambers high in the sky, guarding Lumera’s child apart from his emblem brothers and sisters within the Somniel, but to a field of pale-faced flowers.

Spread as far as the sights can surmise, these wild dandelions of the promised land sway on clean smelling winds as befitting its holy airs. White, like little flecks of snow in the tall grass. Behind them the familiar shadow of Lythos Castle looms large in the distance, fixed on the horizon between sun and earth, forming its authoritative roof over a land at peace until all that sits below it is thrust violently into disarray by the onslaught of fouler smelling corpses- the zombified Corrupted.

Petals scatter on the breeze. A garden squashed beneath rotting heels, clovers unduly plucked from the earth by swings of a plundered axe or two or three. He, too, is brought astir in a great burst of motion:

          Shine on,

               Emblem of Beginnings! 

The invocation is achingly familiar even when spoken with a thousand years interposed between this instance and the last. He emerges from the ring, his necessary strength evoked like a prayer amidst a horde of reanimated corpses. It’s a violent white world-ending; a beautiful white homecoming. The Emblem of Beginnings awakens in a field of white flowers, to the good white dragon with whom he ought to belong; then and now, here and then, Marth is here to fulfill his promise. Their ally until the very end.

    ‘  I was able to answer your call, because you remembered me.  ‘

[iilahalzili]

     "Tch. . . what a time to be reminded.” The shadows are toying with him, reminding him of the weakness he once had--being suppressed by a simple mortal like Rishid, begging and bargaining with his Hikari. . . being defeated by Atem and his little brat Yugi.

     “I wouldn’t have been forced to do such things if you didn’t destroy me to fragments. . .” Marik hisses aloud, glaring at the shadows lingering in the corners of his cabin, “I could have gotten that iadet’s soul if I was given my full power!”

     Do not argue with us, tifli, our power was not strong enough then--you needed an anchor. We could only give you so much with Ra’s power enveloping this wretched place.

     “Your power did nothing for me!” Marik snarls, baring his teeth at seemingly nothing, “If it was so strong to create me into the God of Shadows, then I should have been strong enough to devour Malik’s soul and that pathetic guardian! I would have been able to kill the Pharaoh and feed his soul to grow my power!”

     “Even now I am not strong enough to devour the souls needed for the Ritual!” He picks up the nearest item, a lamp that had been left over from the previous owner, throwing it with all his might at the darkness.      “You want me to become a devourer but you give me so little to work with!”

     Are you doubting us, child of nightmares? The shadows simply remain even with the lamp shattering against the wall, You will grow into it. . . but if you want to progress quicker. . . we can always take you there.      Tendrils of blackness reach out, twitching and writhing as they reach for Marik’s feet--a threat to drag him back to the deepest part of the Shadow Realm, shall we drag you to the Well of Shadows again, remind you what can be done?

     The mention of that place gets Marik to quiet instantly. Not that place. . . his body involuntarily twitches, a phantom memory of the searing pain.      Anything but that place.

     You must be patient, little one, when the time comes we will give you the gift you desire--you will become a Devourer of Worlds when you finish the Ritual of Dark Sacrifice. Until then, you must get the souls you can. Even if it is not Atem’s soul, a strong sacrifice will satisfy. . .

[verreprincesse]

Anxiety settled in Cinderella’s stomach, weighing down like lead marbles in her stomach. There had been a letter reporting of her husband. Her hands twisted in her grasp, pacing the room. Over and over she had read the letter, all color draining from her face until she nearly couldn’t stand. Instead of letting others help her, she ordered — something she never did — her staff away. She didn’t want to see anyone, not even Jaq Jaq or Gus. He had been injured, no telling of the severity or if he would live, just a quick message to let a wife know her husband had been in battle.

None seemed to think the deep chasm the words would gouge in her heart: so much blood, a sword to his side, on watch for His Majesty’s life. Each sentence staggered her until she braced a hand to the back of a chair. She had made it to her vanity, the mirror reflected her face looking as if it had aged in seconds after reading the letter. Just as tears threatened to spill her doors burst open by a frazzled Prudence and a guard with her.

She asked her what was wrong when she whirled around, blinking several times to throw away the fear for her husband so as to calm the wildness in Prudence until the prince’s name fell from Prudence’s lips. He was in the castle? No, the letter said he was on death’s bed, frantically holding on life’s hand. Surely she was wrong but what she hadn’t read, in her haste, was the date the letter had been wrote. She still didn’t as she rushed from her chambers and to the great hall where his figure stood not with the help of even a cane. Perhaps it wasn’t him but even from behind she knew her husband. His name ripped from her lips, a pleading prayer that her eyes weren’t deceiving her as she ran, Prudence’s lessons be damned, to him as he turned at the sound of his name.

She searched him, before all her eyes could see was his face, for any sign of his injuries but she couldn’t see a single bandage. Then she was in his arms, being crushed to him as if he were afraid to let go of her ever again; and she didn’t want him to. She whispered her fears to him while her tears rained down her face, her frame shaking against his. She knew she should be worried over hurting him but she couldn’t get over the fact he was here, that he was in her arms. The hall had, in the time of their embrace, emptied of everyone until it was just the two of them.

Soon enough, between embraces, kisses, and stumbled words they made it to their chambers where she had been sleeping alone night after night. How often she felt the bed far too big without him beside her and how she would place herself to the middle to erase the feeling. The moment the door closed he framed her face with his hands, bringing her close for a heart wrenching kiss, she could almost feel the battle on his lips, the loneliness war gave when it dragged you from a wife. It brought fresh tears to her eyes, and between kisses she told him to never leave again. To never put her through such heartache. Her fingers threaded his dark hair, missing the silkiness of its texture while he pressed his face to the crook of her neck and breathed her being in. With her back to the door they just stood there, his figure leaning into her to where no eyes could take in their moment, to where none could see the desperate way in which he clung to her. Though he was her husband, a prince, a man; it was she who gave strength this time and he who was weak. As if she knew if she crumbled he would too, no, tomorrow could be her day, she would let him have this one.

With gentle words she coaxed him to their bed where she expected they might just sleep the night away holding the other. And she was nearly right. They helped each other undress, still she saw no bandages, though she did see scars that had not yet faded to white lines. Words of the letter ran through her mind but she didn’t voice them, scared to bring up the brutality that might shatter their shaky reunion. Just as she began to reach for her nightgown, not because she was shy in front of her husband — they had been married for enough time for her to be past it — but because she didn’t think they would do anything but sleep when he pulled her hand to tug her towards bed. Her head quirked to the side but let him lead her, eyes widening when he lifted her up to perch her on the edge. Again he held her face, pressing his forehead  to her’s. She whispered her love for him, how much she missed him and with surprising strength she pulled him into bed with her.

Under the covers he held her close, her head resting to his chest to hear the steady beat of his heart. How she missed its melody, his heat, his kisses, his everything. He hadn’t been with her when she had miscarried their child though his words had been delivered to her on parchment telling her that he loved her and that there was always another time they could try. That had been nearly five months ago. It scared her that he would turn his attentions from her but instead he did all in his power to reassure her that he would never discard her, that she was his princess, his future queen. And for the first time she finally believed his words. Wrapped in his embrace she believed everything he had ever written her, had ever promised her.

They began in soft kisses, almost as if he could read the thoughts in her head, beginning at her ear until he turned her to her back so he could hover over her. He did have other ideas for why they wouldn’t need their night clothes, as if he needed to be as close to her in every way — one she didn’t object to. Bodies entwined while breaths mixed with pleasured sounds and whispered proclamations of their love, as if to prove one loved the other more. The covers soon were falling to the sides, pushed as if in the way, until the two bodies claimed the center of the bed where she often curled by herself, without a stitch on them. No one would bother the couple, not until one emerged from the room or pulled the chord for a member of the staff to attend to them so they had no reason to be embarrassed about the covers falling away.

Her legs curled his waist while he cradled an arm around her head. There was no grappling, no tearing at the other, no quick movements. They had time to stretch out a kiss to her temple, a caress down his back, they had time to reacquaint their bodies and their touches. When her back arched he stilled, when he moved she gasped. A rhythm she thought she might forget during his absence yet they had glided smoothly in sync with one another, as easily as he glided himself inside of her. Even as sweat dew on their skin they pressed closer until he brought her to culmination, letting her body shudder around him in delicious torment. He kissed the tightened edges of her eyes, the wrinkle in her nose, the soft shape of her mouth that poured out the sounds he loved pulling from her. Just as his teeth grazed her lip, sucking the tender flesh between his own he curved into her. He released her lip to press his face to the crook of her neck, while her nails raked up his back to tangle his hair once more. Just as their wedding night had been one of shy kisses and fumbling hands this one flowed as easily as water downhill, their bodies no longer moving except for their rising chests for ragged breaths.

Even though he had collapsed himself atop her he didn’t stay for long, he didn’t want to have her feel crushed under him and he finally felt the chill of the air on his damp skin. With a kiss promising to be back he slid himself out of the bed and collected the blankets while she watched, curling to her side though not moving from the bed’s center. When he rejoined her it was with the covers, tucking them both under the warmth while he drew her close once more. She knew he was happy to be home and while a dark cloud hung in background of just how long his stay might be she didn’t voice it. She didn’t want to hear the answer. She wanted this very moment to last forever even as a memory.

And a memory it was, fabricated by a lonely widow who had spent the night looking at her deceased husband’s portrait before bed. A memory that broke her from the seal of sleep that had been coated with one too many wines. Even still her hand reached to her side to find it empty, just like her rational mind told her it would be. Gone of his presence since his death on the battlefield even after he had promised her he wouldn’t leave. When the very kisses that had sealed the promise were given by the same lips that had lied to keep her complacent so he could slip away into the night. She knew it was for the kingdom’s sake but it still broke her heart, broke her trust, and drove her into a spiral that made her grow hard of heart to the people they were at war with.

She still had the letter, the one that had scared her the very day he had come home to her. She had been told, after his departure, that the letter had been sent to her months prior to him coming back. He had been on death’s bed but he had recovered, though not enough as it had been his past wounds that had been his undoing. One wince too many had made him slow to react on the field and it had cost him his life., or so she had been told. She had countered back, no longer did the kingdom worry over the threat of war again for she and an alliance swooped in on them and defeated their army. No, no longer would a wife fear for a husband’s life and if he would return home. She had made sure of that.

[zcrayas]

" Mother... for I shall have no siblings... then, how did I come to be?" The girl inquired, her face hidden within the pure white hem.

Lady Tanith remined silent for few brush strokes, studying the golden waves with much bittersweet nostalgia. Eventually, she spoke: " You were a gift, from my lord, my beloved.

"...oh, a gift?" Little girl turned her face, but was gently guided to look back down. The hair was perfectly untangled, but the mother, could not look her in the eyes.

" Yes. I received you. A spark of light... your scales shone like embers in crimson and gold in a bathing light by the glorious king's grace. That day I received you, my only daughter, my blessing. And such a blessing is your form, a gift of our lord."

While brushing the golden locks, the proprietress recalled it, how love of her life chose to be embraced by the jaws of the Great Serpent in a ritual pact. A new union. New beginning. As humans fled, the serpents took over the town. One, unlike another, was taken from the temple within Lady's arms. A gift, from her lord. A child she failed to ever conceive, but would raise as her own, with a new name, in honor to her Lord. "...and always my daughter..."

[dracdminus]

last ooc post for a bit I promise but quick update

Red has been moved to a secondary muse. Ingo has been added as a main

And im writting some drabbles that are going in queue for now, might post them if I feel good abt it

[mercifulmemories]

Miserable. Dark. Damp. He wasn’t particularly pleased about it. Anzo was definitely more of a sun loving kind of guy, even if living in New York was not the sunniest place in the world, he still did like how lively and busy it was. It meant that people generally didn’t notice when a warlock didn’t age because he wasn’t the most public person. This morning was one of those mornings that he didn’t enjoy being a New Yorker. He would have preferred being in Florida on days like this. He was sitting at his dining table, looking out the window, forlorn. He didn’t even want to go outside because it was so dark, even though he was certain that the sun should have come up by now. 

But it wasn’t, and he sighed, sipping from his tea mug. 

He would have to find something else that he could do today, since his original plan of the open air market would be out, because he definitely wasn't ruining his jacket in the rain. That did leave a few options, he supposed…. Now he just had to think of them.

[jiarkives]

julia’s favorites ! (vi)

♡ - fluff ; ♤ - angst ; ☆ - series

a court of thorns and roses

☆ never been good enough - azriel

↳ @lure-of-writing

☆ the things we do for love - platonic!helion, platonic!inner circle

↳ @really-fanny-longbottom

☆ pushed to the edge - azriel

♡♤ i’m yours - azriel

↳ @stormhearty

☆ overwritten - azriel

↳ @illyrian-dreamer

☆ cold hearts - azriel

↳ @azrielsdove

♤ these hallowed halls - cassian

♤ the girl who cheated death - azriel

♤♡ sweet creature - azriel

↳ @utterlyotterlyx

♡ apple pies and family ties - azriel

↳ @writingcroissant

♤♡ hidden away - rhysand

♡ teaching trails - azriel

♡♤ beneath the healer’s touch - azriel

↳ @thewulf

♡ umbrella - rhysand

♤ house of memories - azriel

↳ @sarawritestories

♡ you’re mine - azriel

↳ @remember-that-one-blog

♡ i want you to rest - azriel

♤ restless dreams - azriel

↳ @azrielhours

♡ the family we choose - azriel

↳ @moonlightazriel

♡ my angel - azriel

↳ @starlightandsouls

♡♤ head held high - dad!rhysand ft. brother!nyx, uncle!azriel

↳ @readychilledwine

♡♤ blood tether - azriel

↳ @acotar-writing

♤ poison - azriel

♡ awake - azriel

↳ @hattiewritesalot

♡ surprise - cassian

↳ @writingsbychlo

♤ no going back (i) - azriel

♤♡ now that we don’t talk (ii) - azriel

♡ arcane - azriel

↳ @serpentandlily

♡♤ baby, mine - azriel ft. platonic!rhysand

↳ @thisblogisaboutabook

♡ “what are you doing?” “i… was told there was an emergency...” - azriel

↳ @sillymercury

♤♡ i love you, it’s ruining my life - azriel

↳ @flickering-chandelier

♡♤ bad dreams - azriel

↳ @tadpolesonalgae

~

criminal minds

☆ galileo - spencer reid

↳ @write-orflight

♡ hotch’s sister - spencer reid

↳ @luveline

♤♡ a father’s daughter - spencer reid ft. dad!aaron hotchner

♤♡ epiphany - spencer reid, bau!reader

↳ @pathologicalreid

♡ drabble - spencer reid, bau!reader

↳ @moonstruckme

♡ drabble - aaron hotchner, bau!reader

↳ @ddejavvu

♤ how do we carry on? (i) - aaron hotchner, bau!reader ft. emily prentiss

♤♡ reconciliation (ii) - aaron hotchner, bau!reader ft. emily prentiss, elle greenaway

↳ @hotchnisslvr

♡ falling for you - spencer reid

↳ @boldlyvoid

~

marvel

�� curiosity killed the cat - bucky barnes

↳ @queers-gambit

♤ where would we be without all the distance? - steve rogers

↳ @nightowlwriting

♡♤ who the hell is daryl? - bucky barnes

↳ @lostgirlmuseum

♤ listen to your gut - bucky barnes

↳ @marvelstoriesepic

♕ divider — @bunnysrph

[necessiteez]

HONGJOONG SMUT FIC RECS LIBRARY

✦ Secret Room ✦

disclaimer: I do not own any of these works and they do not represent the real kim hongjoong. all rights belong to the respective writers who made them.

all pairings are hongjoong x reader only.

further info is already stated in the main Library.

this is a special section reserved for works with kinks heavily influencing the story

✶ - favorites

╔═ secret♕room ═╗

In this list, by order:

✠ Daddy ✠ DILF ✠ Sir

✠ Breeding ✠ Corruption

✠ Size Kink/Size Difference

✠ Voyeurism ✠ Mirrors ✠ Car Sex

✠ Somnophilia ✠ Feminization

✠ Noona ✠ Exhibitionism (Public/Semi-Public)

✠ Nipple Play/Chest Worship

✠ Anal ✠ Knifeplay/Blood Kink

「 ✦ Daddy Kink ✦ 」

includes Hard Dom/Mean Dom!Hongjoong, DDLG/dollification/BDSM themes

Scent Play - @whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Recordings - crimsonbubble

Day 22 - whatudowhennooneseesyou

Thunder - barbzberry on ao3 (wc 2k)

Face Sitting - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Untitled drabble feat. Seonghwa - @haiyuta

✶ Kitten and the Stranger - @ren-the-dragon (wc 7k)

✶ Kitten and the Stranger part 2 (Birthday Boy) - ren-the-dragon

Yours Alone - @frenchkisstheabyss (wc 1k)

Day 1 - @taehyungisminee

Rumor - @mingis-lightbulb

Hongjoong oneshot - @sugawhaaa

[1:48] Exhaused feat. Seonghwa - hanatiny (wc 1.3k)

* Dollification

Doll - nateezfics (1.8k)

✶ Thank You - @spinster-sisters (wc 2.8k)

Day 4: Pretty, Special Doll - whatudowhennooneseesyou

* BDSM

Leash feat. ot7 - @barnesbabee

Mistleblow feat. Seonghwa - @choijjongho (wc 6k)

「 ✦ DILF ✦ 」

Kinktober Day 25 - @ateezreactionsandscenarios (wc 3k)

In Vino Veritas - @pirateprincessblog (wc 7k)

Not Just A Dream - @ja3honey (wc 1.12k)

Definitely Not a Dream - ja3honey (wc 2k)

Love Me Like Your Favourite Dream - ja3honey (wc 5k)

「 ✦ Sir Kink ✦ 」

Tease feat. San - @hongism (wc 4.5k)

Demon's Prize - crimsonbubble

7:48 - crimsonbubble

Just For Me - @hongcherry (wc 9.9k)

Take It feat. Seonghwa- crimsonbubble

Suit and Offices - @hwanchaesong

✶ Covetous - @mountainficss (wc 2.5k)

Happy Anniversary - wonwussy

「 ✦ Breeding ✦ 」

Please - @mountainsluna (wc 1k)

Breeding - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Kinktober Day 8 - @multiwreckedmess (wc 900)

The Shoe on the Other Foot - @bro-atz (wc 3k)

Untitled breeding kink drabble 1- @hyetiny

Untitled breeding kink drabble 2 - hyetiny

✶ Fill You Up - @last-words-ofashootingstar (wc 1k)

「 ✦ Corruption Kink ✦ 」

All Mine - @hongthoven (wc 2.6k)

Whole Other Level - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Not Ready Yet - liara586 on ao3 (wc 1.8k)

✶ Hidden - @latte-fairytaekwoon (wc 3.5k)

Day 6: Ride - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Ruin Me - @sxcret-garden (wc 1k)

「 ✦ Size Kink / Size Difference ✦ 」

✶ Baby Girl - mountainsluna (wc 1.5k)

Day 6 - hongism (wc 7.5k)

「 ✦ Voyeurism ✦ 」

✶ Consensual Voyeurism feat. Wooyoung, Seonghwa- @sanjoongie (wc 3.7k)

Three A.M. - Abiaswreck on ao3 (wc 2.9k)

+ Toys - @oceanlix (wc 1.9k)

Desperate - hanafudaearrings (wc 5.6k)

Day 4 - brownsugarbaybee (wc 1.3k)

「 ✦ Mirrors ✦ 」

Mirrors - @tohokuu (wc 700)

POV - @pyeonghongrie (wc 1k)

Mirror - hwanchaesong

「 ✦ Car Sex ✦ 」

Sunrise - @xoexoxhoe

Mist - hongthoven (wc 4.5k)

✶ Beach Parking - nateezfics (wc 1.3k)

Making Partner includes other members- bro-atz (wc 27k)

Don't Drive and Day Dream - ja3honey (wc 1.8k)

Criminal - spinster-sisters (wc 6k)

LA Devotee - spinster-sisters (wc 21k)

✶ Midnight Snack - swalledbymadness (wc 2.3k)

「 ✦ Somnophilia ✦ 」

+ free use (untitled) - @almightyddeonghwa (wc 800)

Day 16 - @starlitmark (wc 800)

2:08am - @crdteezv (wc 500)

Late Night Worship - hwallazia (wc 800)

「 ✦ Feminization ✦ 」

✶ Yummy - @bobateastay (wc 3k)

Bubblegum Bitch male reader- pyeonghongrie (wc 2.4k)

FFF Day 4 - sanjoongie (wc 2k)

FFF Day 24 - sanjoongie (wc 1.3k)

Ateez in Skirts - sanjoongie (wc 1k)

✶ S*x worker joong - hyetiny

「 ✦ Noona ✦ 」

Knockin' on Heaven's Door - Yellow Beacon on a03 (wc 9k)

Watch Your Mouth - Atiny-Piratequeen on ao3 (wc 800)

One More Night multi-chapter- Yellow Beacon on ao3 (wc 78k)

Watch Your Mouth - @atiny-piratequeen (wc 800)

「 ✦ Exhibitionism (Public/Semi-Public) ✦ 」

✶ HJ and a Latte - drwayward on ao3 (wc 3k)

Hot and Cold - hongthoven (wc 3k)

Un-dressing Room - hwanchaesong (wc 1.8k)

Day 9: Strike One - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Daddy January Day 5 - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Dirty Laundry - @barnesbabee

Better When It Feels Wrong - @teezertales (wc 2.7k)

✶ Sleigh Ride - hongism (wc 3k)

Exhibitionism - hongism (wc 2.5k)

Splash! male reader - revluvzen (wc 4k)

Red - nateezfics (wc 2k)

「 ✦ Nipple Play/Chest Worship ✦ 」

Slip - @puddingyun (wc 500)

Chest Worship - @ithinkilikeit-reactions

Chest Worship - hyetiny

「 ✦ Anal ✦ 」

A Hundred Ways to Ruin You part 1 feat. Seonghwa - daisukekuroneko on ao3

A Hundred Ways to Ruin You part 2 feat. Seonghwa - daisukekuroneko on ao3

「 ✦ Knifeplay/Blood Kink ✦ 」

Slice - HannieLuv on ao3 (wc 1.9k)

*.last updated 07/15/24.*

「 ✦ Deepthroating ✦ 」

「 ✦ Phone Sex ✦ 」

🆕✨ Hot To Go! - @kitten4sannie (wc 1.5k)

MORE TO BE ADDED SOON

[dollfacerecs]

— min ⋆ yoon ⋆ gi

myg fic recommendation list by clover. 🍀 ↓

♡ = smut ; ♤ = angst ; ♧ = fluff ; ♕ = favorite

main list

♢ vows ; ♡, ♤, ♕ // completed — by @hamsterclaw

⇝ arranged marriage, enemies to lovers // i’ve read this a few times and i love it sm. don’t forget to go to yoongi’s masterlist to find the drabbles to this (scroll down till u see vows and u’ll see all the drabbles)

♢ monachopsis ; ♡, ♤ // series — by @personasintro

⇝ husband’s brother, sperm donor // yoongi is so fucking hot in this holy shit. imagine your husband begging his estranged brother to donate his sperm and the brother’s only condition is that he gets to fuck you raw. hello????? i love mimi so much man shes such a sickening author.

♢ away from you ; ♡, ♤ // series — by @personasintro

⇝ shitty marriage, second chance // i love the development, the angry sex, the makeup sex, the dialogue, the interactions. just chefs kiss. + dilf(asshole)!yoongi like whats not to laugh.

♢ 3 tangerines ; ♡, ♤, ♧ // series — by @kithtaehyung

⇝ big brother’s best friend, fwb // ughh such a good fic. i still need to catch up but everything up to what i read is outstanding. so sneaky :p

♢ cybersex ; ♡, ♤ // one-shot — by @gimmethatagustd

⇝ callgirl, big brother’s best friend // again, brother’s best friend au I KNOWWW but trust me guys. oooooof when yoongi finds out the girl he’s been having phone sex with is YOU i was punching my walls.

♢ look down on me like that ; ♡, ♤ // series — by @here2bbtstrash

⇝ producer!yoongi, enemies to lovers // so fuckin good. the tension, the pining i kinda went crazy over this one. i still need to finish tho so no spoilers

♢ take five ; ♤, ♧ // completed — by @jiminrings

⇝ dermatologist!yoongi, co-workers // guys when i tell you this tickles my brain so good. the yearning and the stubbornness from both sides UGHH. i love this sm

♢ yoongi’s lullaby ; ♤ // one-shot — by @jiminrings

⇝ soulmates, unrequited love // if ur looking for pure angst just read this tbh

♢ perpetual datejust ; ♤, ♧ // one-shot — by @jiminrings

⇝ model!yoongi, mutual pining // again… just angst. pain. love it tho.

♢ in the darkest little paradise ; ♡ // drabble — by @sunnebeam

⇝ gangster!yoongi, sexworker!reader // just some good ole pwp. who doesn’t like gangster!yoongi pwp tho like….

♢ after hours ; ♡, ♤, ♧ // ongoing — by @archivedkookie

⇝ basketballcaptainfuckboy!yoongi, unrequited love // guys like the angst is so heartwrenching the way reader is so pathetically in love w him and he’s just nonchalant in everything he does UGHHH pls read its saur gewd.

♢ pending…

[bullyberry]

((A bit of backstory on Penny & Stella's relationship but as I always like to do it's working backwards. So this is actually from when they stopped being friends.))

In only the span of a year Penny and Stella had gone from strangers to best friends, perhaps soul mates even. They knew more about one another then even their parents knew about them. They were as thick as thieves and closer then ivy grown around itself. Yet in the span of a few months things had changed. The introduction of others to their friendship twisted the entire thing. No longer was it just the two of them, now there were more and it felt like those new bodies were separating them. At least for Penny it did.

Even as they stood on the observatory walk way together, watching the stars with only each other. Penny felt a million miles away from their best friend. Their eyes lingered on the mousey brown hair on the fellow student rather then focused on the stars they usually adored so much.

Meanwhile Stella stared to the sky, stood as close to Penny as she could get, arm wrapped around their arm. Where Penny felt a million miles away, Stella felt right at home. As though this was exactly where both of them belonged. Nothing else mattered to her world so long as her best friend was at her side.

"You've been staring an awfully long time, my lucky charm. Don't tell me you're falling for me under the starlight." Stella jokes tearing her eyes away to stare at their friend. Penny's face goes red all the way to their ears and they look away quickly making Stella laugh. Penny's expression doesn't change despite the joke. It remains thoughtful and solemn almost.

"Something's obviously on your mind. What's wrong?" Stella pushes leaning closer to her friend. Penny keeps their eyes locked to the sky tracing the invisible lines of the Draco Constellation. After a long time of mental debate and silence they finally speak.

"Do you like me, Stella." It's phrased less as a question and more like a statement. Stella leans back from Penny as though physical recoiled by the question. She doesn't let go of Penny's arm though. In fact her grip tightens.

"Of course I do, Penny. You're my best friend." There's genuine reassurance in her voice. It's rare to hear her speak so authentically. Penny believes her or at least wants to believe her. Yet finds themselves unable too. Her actions the past few months, their interactions with these supposed new friends. The constant remarks on Penny's well everything, the distance put between them and these new friends, the lingering silence that surrounds Penny when they're all together as a group. It doesn't match her words. Not to them.

"I-it doesn't feel like it." Penny still can't stand to look to Stella. But at least their looking down now. Eyes focused on the handrail the two are leaning on rather then the vast shining abyss that expands out above them.

"... What do you mean?" Stella knows what they mean. Even if it's only subconcious. She knows she's been treating Penny differently with the others around. The others don't like Penny. They call Penny weird, unsettling, creepy. They don't understand why Stella hangs around Penny. They can't see Penny the way she does and she doesn't know how to make them see Penny the way she does. Not without losing them.

If she can just get Penny to show them what they're really like though, that loyal and intelligent side they hide, she knows they'll love Penny. She just has to push Penny a little. That's all and it's easier to push Penny then to push back. She won't lose Penny, can't lose Penny. Penny is her lucky charm, her best friend. She's not gonna lose that...

"When we're with everyone else you always treat me so... Cold. Like... I don't even matter to you." They're always smiling with Stella around. They laugh with her, joke with her and she laughs, jokes right back. Yet when Penny tries to join in it's silent. Even Stella is silent just watching them as though evaluating their worth. Are they worth the time to be around? Are they worth this friendship? Are they worth anything at all.

"Of course you matter to me. You mean more to me then any of those others." All they'd have to do is say the word and Stella would abandon those others. They don't matter, only Penny matters. They've known each other for only a year yet it feels like they've built an entire life together. She can't ruin that. She can't abandon that.

"... So why do you ignore me? Why do you just let them do whatever they want?" Why does she just stand there when they steal Penny's things? Why doesn't she say anything when they lock Penny away like some embarrassing secret? If Penny really mattered to Stella why doesn't she do anything? Did they matter? Did they matter to her or to anyone or anything at all? "I-.... I thought friends were supposed to stand up for each other."

"If I did that, what would you learn? I'm not your friend to protect you. You need to do that yourself. I'm your friend to teach you. Learn some independence, Penny." She was helping Penny. She was teaching them. This is what friends do. Stella knew this is what love is. Love is holding the ones you care for tight and molding them into their perfect selves. She was doing the right thing, she was helping Penny. Penny just wasn't trying hard enough. They weren't doing enough. They just... They needed a firmer hand in their molding.

That wasn't love. Penny knew that wasn't love. Love was protecting the ones you cared for. Defending them from the wrongs of the world and not letting others push them around. Love was keeping your distance if you had too. Doing whatever was necessary to protect the people you care for. Love was sacrifice and Stella wasn't willing to do that. It'd be selfish to push her to do that. The most loving thing Penny could now

"... I don't think I want to be your friend anymore, Stella." Penny pulls their arm from Stella. Whose grip loosens in shock when she hears those words leave Penny's mouth.

"... What?" This wasn't happening. She was losing her grip, her control of the mold. Penny wasn't supposed to do this. They were supposed to stay. Toughen up and show Stella's other friends how great they really were. They weren't... They weren't... They weren't supposed to abandon her. They couldn't. They couldn't be doing this. It had to be a joke, a prank. They'd teamed up with her other friends for this, right? They had too.

"I think... I think I need to be independent." Without even thinking about it they throw Stella's words back in her face. This was for the best. If they stayed Stella's friend and her friends turned against her because of that... What kind of friend were they?

How quickly friends go from soul mates to strangers. In the span of a months to a few minutes.

[rosehearrt]

tag revamp pt. 1.

[arcstral]

—  memoir;  arran.  —

The castle is locked in our sights; we should make for its walls straight as an arrow!

We needn’t waste our time on a patch of backwater villages.

What we need is more men—the more, the better.

Numerous suggestions clamored overhead, rising above the din of whipping winds and galloping horses, to fill the ears of one pensive Altean prince. Marth, though silent thus far upon his saddle, understood the logic in each and every one. There was reason in wanting to cut a path straight to the castle that demanded years of waiting to reclaim. There was also reason in replenishing the forces that perished to haul thousands of hopes and dreams up to this point.

Battles upon battles owed to their noble campaign, followed by a futile altercation with the Dark Pontifex, had sunken many a knight into the dunes that served Khadein’s doormat. Their deployment to Altea had come away with less familiar faces than he might like. Should they wish to be maintained victors in place of dreamers, there was wisdom in counting every serviceable sword and lance. He hadn’t needed Malledus to tell him that.

“The villager back there spoke of two settlements on the path ahead. We’ll make our stop and see what men they can chance to offer.”

Decided, he quieted the conversation of his Altean elites as they rode up to the crossroads. A village and a decision squatted on each end, blue eyes set first upon the west and then the east, knowing full well that one enlistment would gain him a paladin, and the other a sell-sword. One but not the other. That was what the villager said of the feuding villages and perhaps his choice at that point was already clear.

A knight would be experienced not only in the military arts but also in feelings of loyalty to a foreign master so long as his cause was just. A mercenary’s talent was uncertain, his loyalty often dependent on whether or not the pile of gold was to be a hill or a mountain... neither of which Marth could offer until the war was well and over. Yet still. Beyond the call of reason, something in his heart twitched at the stories of the paladin Arran.

As he was told of that lone knight in a village on the cusp of Altea, torn away from his duty and liege, the prince thought immediately to another. Had that knight survived his wounds two years ago, perhaps such a tale would mirror his. Dismounting from his horse, he waited in the westerly village square. Turning around to steps weighed by metal and armor where the man’s golden-haired appearance caught his attention once. Where the fact that he wasn’t Frey caught it again.

“Sire, my name is Arran. Once I was a captain to many knights…“

[iilahalzili]

     excerpt from writing: tw for gore, violence and technically cannibalism

     Steps are shifted, moving to stand on the back legs and letting the steps reflect his weight. Claws on the feet scrape against the concrete, leaving deep gashes with each thudding step.        The first to notice is the one standing, turning around just in time to see the creature rise up to its full height, letting all the spines on its body bloom into a vibrant purple. The mortal cannot scream fast enough, the sound slipping before it is interrupted by a gurgling sound.      Powerful jaws make quick work of the neck, bone easily snapping from the force, the head nearly severed. How wonderful the blood tastes, something he had forgotten, something so much sweeter than before. The single taste brings about a frenzy, the gnawing hunger growing stronger. Feast, devour the flesh of mortals! Feed the hunger, satiate the shadows inside.      The other three scramble to their feet, watching in horror as their friend’s head is torn the rest of the way from the torso then dropped down onto the bench. The body is tossed down onto the grass, left there for the moment as those glowing eyes focus on the living three.      “RUN!” One screams out, the sound marking them as the next target. The creature jumps onto the bench before lunging forward, the second one falling quickly as razor-sharp claws shred through their abdomen. Blood and viscera fall against the rain-soaked ground, the other two scrambling to get away. Their fear is thick in the air, intoxicating and making a mouth-watering-like reaction in the creature.      In the moment, the hunger overcomes the bloodlust, dagger-like teeth bared before tearing into the torso. Bones easily snap beneath the force of the jaw, flesh easily torn by teeth and quickly swallowed. The torso is quickly ripped through, hungrily trying to get at the vital organs—especially the heart.        Only the sound of a car starting up breaks the focus on consuming. Two of his victims are trying to get away, how rude. Blood drips from the slightly agape mouth, letting out a deep growl of anger and a feral thrill.        “I forgot my phone!” He can hear one of the mortals exclaim as he moves closer, an easy way to find where they had run to.      “Fuck your phone! Did you see what that thing did to them?!” The second is able to say before the car crunches as something heavy lands on the hood. Both look forward, meeting the eyes of the monster. They are able to get a good look, noticing that one eye settles on the forehead instead of the right side of the face—which the right side looks torn, revealing only darkness rather than the flesh beneath.      The creature grins wide, exposing teeth as blood coats its lower face and bits of flesh and viscera clinging to the mouth, “Hello~” The deep voice growls before a hand slams down on the windshield, shattering it with ease. The one in the passenger seat screams, her arms getting cut up badly as she shields her face. The male in the driver seat does not get to scream, the hand quickly grabbing hold of him before pulling him out from the broken glass.

[zcrayas]

DRABBLE || FREEDOM HAS NO VALUE

"If you were sent by mother...!"

Quickly, Patches lifted up his hands. "Sent by Lady Tanith...? Well! Of course I was sent by Lady Tanith! Why such an attitude? Ah! I hope you are not doubting Patches the Untethered finishing his tasks? It can't be you are following me around, are ya? You know me! Doing a cracking good job may take some time to prepare! It's not like killing a Tarnished just happens! Besides, speaking of being sent by Lady Tanith I haven't seen you in the Manor for a while. For days, in fact! Is there something I should know? Rather unusual for someone who has always returned before sunset. Hmm?"

Her shoulders tensed, then relaxed. Seemingly, no one was sent for her, yet. Instead of Patches, it might be Bernahl she should look out for. The knight was the most trusted of the Recusants. And he would act without a question as his Lady wishd. With a small glance over her shoulder - she ensured they were alone.

"No... I do not doubt you. I left on a journey, and I do not intend to return anytime soon. I have my reasons, Patches", Rya stared back into his eyes - he seemed satisfied it wasn't about him but on the other hand, Patches was smart to pick up small details to his benefit. Thus, honesty was the best option. "Please, promise. You haven't seen me here. We have a deal, don't we? We help one another, as a family. Mother has her suspicions you trade tasks with the champions, and that your business might distract you. The countless times she has asked me about your whereabouts - my lips were sealed out of respect to you. "

Patches lifted a brow, curious, what may have happened. Then again, family issues were far too complex. A little laugh escaped as she mentioned the said deal. A little threat hidden between lines, wasn't it? Admirable!

As much ensuring safety of the only daughter to Lady Tanith and Praetor Rykard would favor him in the eyes of the proprietress, Rya indeed had enabled his ways, how many times she had ensured he was portrayed to her mother to his favor. He understood the game they both played. And now, for a reason or another, Rya took the liberties of her own. He if anyone understood.

" On a journey of your own, huh. Didn't take you as a type to take out on travels." He could only ponder how she made it, how she plans to make it. The Lands Between were brutal. The opportunists, monsters and the king's men lurked everywhere. And all he could see on her was a simple bag over her shoulders - what did a noble know about long distance traveling in a war torn country. He had never seen her to even hold a sword!

Then again, they had an agreement. "Deal is a deal, Lady Rya. Never saw you here. " He shrugged, leaning against his spear.

"Then, would you be kind, and let me have a look at your wares? I might need something." Rya hadn't got an idea what he sold, yet, she could have an use for little bit of extra. Of course, she also hoped few runes wouldn't change his mind any time soon.

Hearing the request, Patches grinned. Opening the drawstring of the bag and spreading the samples of his wares before her to see. As she knelt, before her were some weaponry - displaying only the smaller ones which she might be able to use. Along he placed down arrows, bolts, shards, books and variety of consumables... and the most curious, some kind of an old piece of an artefact

"...Oh, what's that?" she immediately pointed the strange object in his hand.

"This? Oh. You know the big brutes which wander these lands... with horns or stumps" Patches began, holding the object closer for her to see.

"...so, when you have huge rampant beings around, special made shackles, imbued with golden magic were commissioned to keep them in control. And this one... my friend... was made for the very Margit the Fell to keep him in bound, and still could! How many Tarnished have perished in his hands... only if they had this! for the few seconds he forcefully kisses the ground, they would have a moment to flee! But, also, don't ask me how I got it or know. True salesman never tells his sources. Yet, that is the truth! Else Lady Tanith may behead me!"

The name was enough to set her mind. "I will take it. How much...?"

No weapons, no arrows, not even severed fingers or pickled feet to assist her travel. It took him by surprise for why exactly this one had her interested. Then again, it was all about runes.

"Can't part with this one for cheap, you know... not even for an old friend."

"As much as you require... please", Rya crossed her hands, not even intending to try to bargain with him. Noticing such keen interest, Patches rolled the numbers in his mind.

"Since you are my first time customer, let's say... 5000."

"Deal." Rya opened her bag. Without hesitation, she was ready to part with the most of her runes she even carried. Foolish, yet, she acted out of heart.

As runes were exchanged, she felt the weight of the old shackle in her hands. The surface roughened over the ages it had existed.

"Pleased to do business, Lady Rya!" Patches waved, humming in a pleased manner upon the successful trade. Watching, as the noblewoman disappeared behind trees, with her new treasure.

Rya had no use for it, and never should anyone. Only one, should ever have a hold of it.