#Withered stars au

[withered-stars-au]

Master Post/about au

so in this au Castor was corrupted directly by the wither storm and he gained an unsatisfiable appetite leading to him eventually finding attacking and corrupting Pollux the two twins missing Lunar decide to corrupt lunar as well

Castor design and ref sheet

Pollux Design and ref sheet

Lunar WIP

[mistymountainsmc]

Wither Rose Alliance

Is this my first wither rose alliance fanart? Yes. Did I draw them in my Empires SMP Star Wars au? Yes.

God bless

[stareulogy]

hm. i’m feeling impulsive.

on my expedition to find a universe that’s entirely white space - excluding @blankboys-room’s universe, i found a spare laptop i could use.

... actually, how about i raise some hell? i’m tired of being played with.

[notokbutthriving]

wither storm! Lunar and Newton star! Eclipse

[asmodeus-682]

WITHER STORM LUNAR AU ART

Aka art for the au

First up is this lovely drawing of Lunar x Castor

Next one is of Cancer; slight nudity warning though as she has no shirt on but does have shorts on

Here she is

Counts as a redesign as I remember making a different design for her a while back

[jadescortaurius1]

Magma drawing of AWS!Sun (Soleil)

[Close up]

He is literally so ill, please help him-

[koqabear]

For the 2k event I would love to see football player!taehyun x cheerleader! Y/N and idc what the scenario is I would just love to see some spicy smut 🥵🥵 thank you!

[2K Masterlist]

"How not to scare off the stupid flirt that won’t leave you alone."

football player!Taehyun x fem!cheerleader!reader // wc: 5.7K // genre: college au, one-sided enemies to lovers, smut, MDNI.

warnings: i glanced over it does that count as a proof read, slight himbo tyun, (?!) mans a munch, switchy/kinda sub leaning service top! tyun (!!!?), switchy/dom leaning! mc, strength kink, degrading, praise, oral (f. rec.), dry humping, hair pulling, begging, bondage, creampies, overstimulation, lmk if i should add anything!

notes: went just a bit overboard rawr

Taehyun— star player of the football team, a total womanizer and flirt— has taken an interest in you. 

It was only a matter of time before he set his sights on you, wasn’t it? The cute cheerleader who was nothing short of energetic and endearing, waving your pom poms excitedly and sporting a bright smile on your face that never ceased at every game— you were easily the smartest person there, given a full-ride scholarship and spending your weekdays cooped up in the library studying, a complete switch from the preppy persona you put on display for the students and families in the bleachers, never giving anyone the time of day and focusing solely on your studies— in short, you were entirely unattainable.

Which only served to entice Taehyun more.

You never gave in to any of Taehyun’s advances— every wave, greeting, or call of your name was strictly ignored; any attempts to be friendly with you were thrown straight into the gutter by a single glare of yours, and Taehyun found himself lucky on the days you would even look at him willingly. 

Of course, your withering glares and upturned nose as you walked away from every approach would have any sane person tucking their tail and giving up immediately— but Taehyun wasn’t just anyone, and he found that it was quite fun to try and rile you up whenever he saw you— in and out of uniform— and it made his friends wonder if he was simply a masochist. 

“Dude, she looks like she’s ready to blow you up with her mind every time she sees you,” Yeonjun told him once, recounting the way you sneered at Taehyun the moment he tried to interact with you after the game, yet another successful win under their belts, “you mean to tell me you’re into that?”

Taehyun never bothered to deny such accusations; why would he, when he felt himself smile a little wider every time you told him to get lost, or would feel himself eager to chase after you when you would simply turn on your heel and walk the opposite direction whenever you made eye-contact with him? And if he spent nights staying up and thinking about the way your bright smile lit up the stadium and the bow on your head would bounce cutely with each stunt you performed, that was no one else’s business but his own. 

To Taehyun, you were the most refreshing part of every game; to you, Kang Taehyun was a stupid tick you just couldn’t get rid of. 

All charming smiles and smooth flirty lines— you were warned of him by your team, you knew that he was nothing but trouble the moment the rumors of his reputation started swimming around from ear to ear— a cocky D1 athlete that couldn’t stick to a single girl for more than a few days. 

So how is it possible that he’s still bothering you? He’s been after you since the season started, following you around dumbly and trying to get you to cave with even dumber lines you know he’s used on other girls. You never even bothered to bat an eye at him— you’ve never spoken to him past a snide remark telling him to get lost; you’ve shown negative interest in him, but even so, you still catch him staring at you with stars in his eyes. 

“Hey,” Taehyun says, managing to catch you after the home game has ended; still in your full face of makeup, so tired that you haven’t even bothered to change out of your uniform yet— you sneer on instinct, turning on your heel and walking the opposite way you were heading, even if it meant taking the farther exit— but Taehyun simply runs after you, not fazed in the slightest at your behavior, “Great game today, right? You guys were awesome. Your routines were super cool.”

“They’re the same ones we’ve been doing for a while now.” you comment dryly, tugging your duffle bag’s strap over your shoulder more; Oh, you can hear Taehyun mumble softly— you wonder if this is the moment he decides it's no longer worth it to pursue you. But again— things are never that simple for you. 

“Still, I just never get tired of watching you.”

You falter; Taehyun senses it, just like you sense his searing gaze on your face. 

“You’re not supposed to be watching me,” is all you’re able to say, albeit softly, a lot weaker than your usual dismissive tone.

“I know,” Taehyun hums softly, tilting his head as he continues to watch you, analyzing your expression acutely, “it’s just hard not to.”

Alright, you find yourself thinking, coming to a complete halt the moment you feel your heart fluttering hopelessly, this has to stop.

“Wow. Smooth,” you say apathetically, pursing your lips in distaste and observing the man before you— his relaxed, cocky demeanor, the lazy smile that pulls at his lips, his head that tilts curiously, grown out hair covering his eyes and hiding what he might be thinking— and you scoff, voice dripping with distaste as you continue, “how many girls has that line worked on already?” 

“None. One, maybe,” Taehyun quickly says, taking a step closer to you, until you’re able to smell him, the natural musk mixed with the fading scent of his cologne, “if she decides to give me a chance.” 

Your lips press together, your face unimpressed; he raises a brow at you, as though asking for an answer— swiftly, you roll your eyes and ignore his silent queues. 

“Not happening.” you’re turning around again, your pace must faster now, “go bother someone else who’s willing to be part of your roster.”

“I don’t want someone else,” Taehyun groans, jogging after you and placing himself in front of you, just so you’ll actually give him the time of day, “I just want you.”

“Oh really?” you laugh mockingly, entirely unconvinced by this act he seems to be putting up, “So if I fuck you, will you finally stop throwing a tantrum over something you can’t have?” 

He’s stunned; with hands on your hips, you step closer to him, getting up in his face as you continue to taunt him. 

“Are you gonna get bored and dump me after? Hmm?” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest and taking a step back— Taehyun remains bewildered. “You’re probably not even worth it, actually.”

Just like he did earlier, you raise a brow; mocking him, waiting for him to respond as you tap your foot impatiently— instead, he remains silent, eyes scanning your face, as though waiting for you to say something else— you roll your eyes and shake your head, more than ready to push past him and finally go shower in the comfort of your own apartment. 

Your shoulder almost pushes against Taehyun’s body as you go to leave— but you’re stopped in your tracks before you can get the last say, a strong grip on your bicep keeping you still and turning your body around roughly— your duffle bag swings and the strap falls down your arm at the action.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Taehyun says, leering down at you with dark eyes— he’s irritated, teeth gritted and brows knitted together as he speaks.

“Awh, is your ego wounded now?” you ask, pouting and batting your eyes at him, feeling his fingers dig into your skin as a result, “does it hurt your big macho pride to get rejected?”

Taehyun doesn’t say anything to that— his eyes seem to do the talking for him, narrowed dangerously at you, but even so, you still don’t care to take the hint. 

“Or— don’t tell me,” you make a point to lower your voice to a whisper, looking around skeptically for anyone else that could hear— but, the stadium was empty at this point, “did I hit too close to home? Oh no, are you that bad of a fuck?”

Taehyun’s jaw is clenched; he takes one look at your pouting, pitied face, at his fingertips that dig into the muscle of your bicep, and inhales slowly— and with one last glance around the area, he turns away and begins to roughly tug you along. 

“Woah— hey– hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing—?!” 

You’re yelling and bitching at him, slapping at his shoulder and calling him names he could never come up with himself— and yet, you stumble along, refusing to take your arm out of his loosening grip— your actions speak louder than your (abrasive yet creative, Taehyun will admit) words; you’re curious, and Taehyun can already picture the look on your face the moment he finally brings the two of you into the empty locker room he previously raced out of just to look for you.

“What the hell man?” you yell, allowing yourself to be tugged further into the room, straight to a secluded corner that you immediately get backed up in; his hands are on your shoulders as he presses you firmly against the metal lockers, your back arching to get away from the uncomfortable feeling— he’s got you caged in with his body, unable to do anything more than press your hands against his chest in an attempt to keep your distance. You reluctantly take note of how firm his muscles feel. 

“What’s your deal?” you roll your eyes, noticing that he has yet to explain himself, resorting to glaring down at you with his stupid, big brown eyes, “Is this all you can do? Don’t know how to use your big boy words so you resort to force instead?”

“I should be asking you the same thing,” he suddenly says, his voice quiet and restrained as he eyes you carefully; your eyes widen, as though you weren’t actually expecting him to say anything, “all that talk for someone that doesn’t wanna be here.”

Your body heats up instantly at his words; you feel like a fish out of water with the way your mouth opens and closes, trying to find your rebuttal yet faltering under the heat of his gaze— he looks pissed, as though he’ll pounce on you the moment you say something wrong. 

“I don’t,” you finally say, the words not as confident as you wish they were, “you were the one that dragged me here.”

“Really?” he asks, raising a brow at the way you scoff and glare at him, standing your ground even if you both know you’re lying; his hands fall from your shoulders and he takes a step back, watching as you simply remain there, shocked. 

“Then leave.”

The look on his face is much too smug for your liking. He crosses his arms and smirks, taking another step back and nodding to the other side of the room, telling you that “the exit’s over there.”

You take a step forward, only to hesitate. Your eyes narrow at the sight of him, deep in thought before you finally kiss your teeth in distaste.

“God, you’re so fucking insufferable.”

Taehyun doesn’t get a chance to say anything to that because you’re all but leaping onto him after— you’re taking hastes steps to him and your hand reaches out for his nape, digging into his hair before pulling him in towards you for a kiss; to say he was expecting this would be a lie, but he’s more than prepared to melt into you anyway.

You’re nothing like the sweet and innocent persona you put up for the stadium; you’re insatiable, kissing Taehyun like you were starving, a hand reaching up to place itself on his chest, the feeling welcomed until he realizes something— you’re pushing him back, and before he knows it, he’s the one slamming back into the lockers.

His hand falls onto your hip, the other coming up to cup your jaw; his fingers wander endlessly, going from the pleats of your skirt to the elastic waistband, sly fingertips sneaking beneath before he’s pulling away and reaching down to cup your ass— he’s groaning into your mouth at the feeling, your teeth sinking in retaliation to him groping you like a bitch in heat. 

Taehyun’s mind is racing a million miles a minute; he never actually thought he’d get here, but now that he did, he’s found himself to be feeling ridiculously antsy— he wants to feel you, take his time to memorize every detail of you, but he also wants to perform ever fantasy he’s ever had about you, bad. 

And if he thinks he’s good at masking his desperation from you, he’s wrong. Very, very wrong. You could feel it from the way he kissed you back to the way his dick hardened in what you think is record time, his motions growing hasty as he couldn’t stop feeling you up, as though he’d die if he didn’t go from venturing up your shirt to grabbing at your ass, going back and forth and fucking up your balance completely— at this point, Taehyun was only left against the lockers because you were full on leaning on him.

When you pull away from the kiss, lips swollen and entirely out of breath, Taehyun chases after you; his eyes are low lidded and dazed as he looks at you, confused on why you look at him as though you’ll start laughing any second now. 

“Where’s that smooth guy from earlier?” you taunt, punctuating your words by pressing yourself firmly against him, listening to the quiet hiss you get in return, “you almost made me think that your reputation was actually true.”

God, he’s so predictable. You can barely hold back the smile that tugs at your lips, watching Taehyun’s reaction intently; it was like a light finally turned on in his head, glassed over eyes finally becoming conscious as he blinks at you, words registering in his head and grip slowly become harsher; his hand falls from your face and down to the small of your back, pulling you close and raising a confused brow at you. 

“What reputation?” he asks, the faux innocence making you roll your eyes.

“Oh y’know, just some girls saying shit. That you fuck the living daylights out of them, or whatever,” your hand that was braced against his chest trails up, fingertips going to the underside of his chin to flick his head up playfully— his eyes are pinned on you the entire time, and you giggle mockingly. “But all I see here is a horny teen that gets hard over a little bit of kissing.”

You’re baiting him— it’s so obvious and you both know it, but that doesn’t stop Taehyun from biting the said bait shamelessly, dark eyes glaring daggers at you challengingly as stares you down.

It all happens too quickly for you to process; your positions are being flipped around yet again and your back is slamming into the lockers, letting out a small yelp at the feeling— but it’s all washed out by the sight of Taehyun falling to his knees, pushing your legs open before he’s settling himself between them comfortably— his eyes sparkle under the lights as he looks up at you, the crude contrasting bringing a wave of heat throughout your body. 

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do this,” Taehyun rasps, grabbing your leg before he’s lifting it up, feeling your hand on his shoulder at the unexpected action; he merely chuckles, placing slow, wet kisses from your inner knee before he begins to trail in— once he’s at your inner thighs, he slings your leg over his shoulder leisurely, sucking and biting at the skin before mumbling against it, “fucking dreamed about this.”

His words are pathetically effective— your panties feel uncomfortably stuck to your cunt, and the anticipation of feeling Taehyun’s mouth there definitely isn’t helping.

“Bullshit,” you grit, your free hand reaching down to lace into his hair; your nails scratch along his scalp and pull at his roots, and Taehyun shivers at the feeling, “god, do your other hookups like it when you say this shit?”

Beneath your skirt, he shakes his head, fingertips digging into your thighs at the thought. You’re trying to provoke him, it’s obvious, yet Taehyun can’t help but get irritated at the fact that you seem to be focusing on everything but him. “You’re the only one I’ve ever talked to like this,” he says, pulling out from under your skirt to bring your panties down, dragging them slowly until they’re finally off— you note with wide eyes that he immediately pockets them. “I’m usually not much of a talker.”

“But if you hate it that much, I can be quiet,” he murmurs, beginning to go back to your cunt again, bunching your skirt at your hips so you can get a good view of him— his doe eyes flicker up at you, and you swear he must know what that does to you as he continues. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”

The dry laugh you let out comes out shaky and breathy; his affect on you is so obvious, yet you still seem to want to hide it all under this persona of yours, digging your heel in his back and tilting your hips closer to his face— he oggles at how visibly wet you are, a soft hiss leaving his lips as you pull at his hair, not giving him a chance to react before you’re pushing him in to where you need him the most. 

If you’re finally gonna give in to this stupid student athlete, it’s going to be on your terms. At least that’s what you tell yourself, a shaky moan escaping you and your grip tightening on Taehyun’s hair— he really doesn’t want to waste any time, you note.

His mouth feels like heaven; he’s quick to lick a stripe across your cunt, tongue digging at your needy hole before he comes up to your clit, licking at it teasingly until he finally hears you whine. His lips are soft and plump as he places messy kisses at your clit, his hands digging into your thighs in an attempt to stop you from shifting around so much— if anything, his bruising grip only serves to rip out another moan from you.

“S-shit, Taehyun— just like that, ah,” your moans are just as pretty as you— Taehyun feels like he’s in a daze as he presses closer against you, sucking your clit harshly and listening to the sweet whine you let out— he can feel his cock twitching pathetically in his pants, hips bucking at the air as his mouth moves down to your entrance. 

“Fuck!” your eyes screw shut as you feel Taehyun’s tongue enter you, the tip of his nose pressing against your clit as he nuzzles into your cunt, as though he could get further inside your pussy. The sighs and grunts he lets out aren’t lost on your ears either, cunt clenching desperately against him as you begin to wriggle out of his grip without realizing. 

“Mmmh, pretty face was meant to get fucked,” you groan out, the words slipping out of you without control. Your hips rock and grind against him, dazed eyes watching as his hold on you loosens and his tongue lolls out; watery eyes flicker back up to look at you, glowing from your compliment. 

Taehyun thinks that he could die happily like this. Your cunt is so sweet, so wet, the glide of it against his face enough to have him throbbing painfully in his pants. His jaw aches and it’s getting hard for him to breathe, but even then he refuses to stop— the sight of you is like a dream come true for him to pull away now. 

You’re so close— it’s evident by the way your hips start bucking against his face harshly, nails digging into his scalp as you push him closer, impossibly close— your mouth is left open, soft moans turning into curses as your leg tries to hook him in further, pressing against the firm muscles of his back— Taehyun’s eyes flutter shut, and before he can really second guess himself, he pulls away. 

The wet sound of his mouth leaving your dripping cunt should have you curling away and cringing in embarrassment. Instead, the only thing you can muster is a cry of his name, the sound venomous and disappointed as you glare down at the boy. 

“Sorry,” he says, voice broken and raspy, a panting and blushing mess, “I just— fuck, I need you.”

You’re left speechless at his desperation— but Taehyun doesn’t seem to mind, getting back up to his feet before he’s grabbing at your waist and leaning in to kiss you; you can feel how hard he is against you, and it allows you to snap into your senses as you go up to place your hands against his chest once more; pulling away, you push against him in order to get him to walk— he obeys immediately.

“Geez, you give a guy a chance and he starts acting like a little virgin,” you sneer, noting with a flip of your stomach that Taehyun only grins, unaffected by your jab. You’ve led him to the edge of the bench set in the middle of this small area, pressing down on his shoulders and getting him to sit down; he watches with stars in his eyes as you straddle his lap, sitting your dripping cunt over his bulge firmly. “Am I gonna have to put in all the work here?”

“I mean,” Taehyun trails off, his hands finding purchase on your ass and beginning to guide you to rock against him; his teeth sink into his lip and his eyes darken as he takes in the sight, drawing a gasp out of you as he bucks his hips up. Looking back up at you, his face is happy and sweet. “You really don’t have to. But it’s kinda hot to get bossed around by you though— just thought you were more into that.”

Your jaw ticks. Without warning, you push him down against the bench, hovering over him and placing your hands on his waistband as you begin to undo his jeans.

“Quite a weird way to try and play off that you’re my bitch,” you grit out, tugging at his boxers and watching his cock spring out— he groans, hips bucking up at the feeling, his tip a pretty pink that throbs and leaks pathetically.

Taehyun laughs softly, watching with awe as you spit in your palm and slowly begin to stroke him; his head falls back and his eyes screw shut, noting with coy satisfaction that your hand doesn’t fully wrap around him. 

“Yeah, I’m your bitch,” he sighs out, his hands flying to your waist and getting him to sit on his thighs, “fuck, you’re too good at this.”

God, he’s so stupid; giving in to all your taunts without much of a fight, sucked in entirely by the feeling of your hand that pumps his length so slowly, tightening your hold on him and twisting, squeezing his tip teasingly— his hands reach up to cover his face before he can stop himself, pretty hands obscuring his heated face and parted lips that let out soft sighs of pleasure. 

“Don’t hide from me now,” you say, reaching up to pry his hands away, his eyes fluttering open before locking with yours, “you look so good like this.”

His eyes widen, the tips of his ears reddening with a cute blush; your praise is so unfamiliar, yet it renders him weak and needy for more, reaching out to grab your waist to scoot you up more— your cunt is touching his length by the time you scold him to stop, though he doesn’t seem to care much for your orders as he begins to fuck his hips against you.

“C’mon, just fuck me already,” he groans, your eyes as big as saucers as he continues to whine and beg. “Aren’t you supposed to like, use me and stuff?” 

This… is not what you were expecting from him. 

You’re sure the words are written across your face too, the incredulous look you give him making him shrink slightly, as though he was just now realizing what he was saying. 

But before he can backtrack and say something monumentally stupid to cancel it out, you grin, hovering over his lap and grabbing at his cock, lining it up with your entrance and taking in the way he visibly shudders. 

“You sound so cute when you’re begging,” you say, running his tip along your slit, allowing it to collect your growing arousal, the sound loud to both of you, “y’know, I would’ve given you a chance much earlier if you acted all nice and cute like this from the start.

“That player persona of yours wasn’t really my thing.”

The head of his cock finally breaches your entrance; Taehyun moans at the feeling of you finally sinking on him, able to feel the way he stretches you out the further you take him in, wet and warm walls fluttering with each gentle push. 

“Mmh,” your brows are furrowing at the feeling, not expecting him to be so damn thick— but you took him in regardless, putting on an apathetic front even if you were on the verge of melting on top of him— you can feel him twitch inside you, a weak whimper escaping you as his hands dig into your thighs, digging into the flesh cruelly once he finally bottoms out. 

“God, you’re fucking perfect,” Taehyun breathes out, hissing through his teeth once you finally start moving; your hips are methodical, your movements cruelly calculated as you rise slowly, leaving him waiting for a second before you slam back down— his legs jump, your body bouncing from the motion. 

You can’t help but laugh at the sight of him; he’s the definition of fucked out, sweat that beaded at his hairline causing strands of hair to stick to his skin, chest heaving and teeth digging into his lips with every bounce on his cock— when you start to set a pace, you note with annoyance that Taehyun just can’t stop trying to take over, his hands traveling to your waist to try and guide you, his hips fucking up to meet your pace. It’s endearing, for a moment, but then you find that he begins to get too handsy, his hands now lost underneath your shirt and trailing over your breasts curiously.

“Okay now, don’t get too ahead of yourself,” you chide condescendingly, stopping your pace and sinking onto him, your weight fully on him as you swat his hands off. Taehyun begins to protest immediately, groaning about how mean and unfair you’re being. His hands attempt to go back to your waist, but you slap them off again, giving him a glare that makes him pout at you. 

Thoughts on how to get him to listen to you course through your mind, unsure of what to do until one hits you like a freight train. 

Taehyun watches in confusion as you reach for your hair, unsure of what to make of the sly smile on your face— it’s only once he sees the pretty bow unravel from your head that his eyes widen in understanding. 

“Oh no,” he mutters, your smile only growing wider as you reach for his hands— he retaliates, bringing his wrists together and just outside your reach, “oh hell no, c’mon!”

“Give me your hands,” you huff, lips pressing together in annoyance as he shakes his head and puts them over his head instead, just out of your reach, “give me your hands or I walk out right now.”

Taehyun knows how you are. You’re completely serious about that. 

“C’monnnn,” he groans, reluctantly offering his hands out for you to take. He watches with a petulant look as you wrap the ribbon around his wrists, tying them together so quickly he’s barely able to process what you’re doing, “please, I just wanna touch you.”

You ignore him, adding the final touch with careful hands; the bow on his wrists is just as pretty as the proud smile on your face, he notes bitterly. 

“Perfect,” you murmur to yourself, pushing his bound hands against his chest, holding onto them for leverage as you begin to move again; you can practically see all the thoughts leave his mind as he feels you around him, sucking him in and clenching with each prod against your sweet spot, hips angling so you’re hitting it perfectly. 

With a cruel curiosity, you shift on top of him, a hand holding his wrists down while the other drags his shirt up— though expected, you can’t help but whistle at the sight, running a hand over his abs, watching eagerly as he flinches from the contact. Without much of a thought, you bend down to place a kiss on his stomach, laughing at the soft whine you get in return. Sitting back up, you go back to the pace you set before, satisfied by the flustered man you see beneath you. 

Your nails are digging into his wrists; the orgasm he took from you is quickly building back up, your lips swollen and shining from how bitten they are— your cunt gushes around him, a ring beginning to form at the base of his length; Taehyun’s eyes roll back at the sight. 

The pretty moans you’re letting out and the tight grip your pussy has on him is making it impossible for him to last— he’s only a bit behind you as you feel your knees begin to become weak, your pace inconsistent as you grind on him in search of more.

“M’close… fuck…” you breathe out, hovering over Taehyun and caging him in— the roles have been reversed now, your elbows on each side of his head holding you up as you press yourself against him, your pace agonizingly slow as you lean down to kiss him— it’s sloppy and neither of you are entirely in your right minds, pathetically moaning into each other’s mouths the closer to your peak you get.

It’s nice to feel the heat of your body against his, but what you’re doing now simply isn’t enough for Taehyun. And though he knows you strictly forbade him, he can’t help himself from reaching down to grab your side, startling you and forcing you to sit up in confusion. 

“Sorry, I just— I’m so close, I need more,” he says, fingers digging into your side and thighs flexing beneath you— his brows furrow in concentration and next thing you know, he’s fucking up into you. 

The yelp you let out only makes Taehyun’s cock twitch inside you— you sound so good like this, overwhelmed and ruined, unable to stop or control the way he bucks his hips up into you, his hands on your side forcing you to come down on him with every thrust— you’re falling forward and pressing down on his chest in an attempt to not lay on him entirely, and Taehyun thinks that he might’ve just gotten the sight of you bouncing on top of him ingrained into his mind now.

“Oh fuck, you keep fucking squeezing me— are you close? Yeah? I am too,” he moans, watching as you hang your head and dig your nails into his skin— you’re both soooo close, Taehyun can feel it— and before he can second guess himself, words spill from his mouth in a desperate haste. 

“Can I cum inside you?” he asks, your eyes snapping open at the question— they meet his stupid, shiny round eyes, turned completely glassy as he tilts his head, his pace never ceasing for a second. “Can I, can I please? You’re so pretty, feel so good, c’mon, just wanna fill you up like you deserve—”

���Shit, yeah,” you whine, not needing much convincing in the first place to agree. “Fill me up, c’mon tyunnie, wanna be full—!”

The sound of the cute nickname coming from you sets Taehyun off instantly; his cock bottoms out and his hand slams your body down, your faint gasp barely registering in his mind as he finally cums— and it’s so much, spurts and spurts of warm cum filling you up and setting you off seconds after. 

When Taehyun feels your cunt fluttering around him, he helps you ride it out; even if it means his eyes get watery and his cock hurts with every thrust into you. He still does it, the overstimulation a small price to pay for being able to watch you fall apart on top of him, moaning out his name so nicely that he never wants it to be said by anyone that’s not you from now on. 

You’re an out of breath, sweaty mess by the time you finally come to your senses— well, kind of. You’d still rather not accept that womanizing student athlete Taehyun finally succeeded in getting in your pants. Maybe now he’ll finally leave you alone; you try to ignore the disappointed pang you get in your stomach from the thought. 

Beneath you, Taehyun simply pants, eyes closed in a sweet bliss; when they open back up, he looks at you with such fondness you can’t help but startle. 

“Can I take you out on a date?”

Your eyes widen, and you try to pretend as though the question doesn’t immediately lift up your mood. (Though the way your lips quirk up in an amused smile is definitely a giveaway.)

“You ask this now?” you say, crossing your arms and letting out a soft tsk, “I feel like it’s supposed to go the other way around.”

Taehyun smiles, and you can’t resist the contagious sight.

“I know. Sorry for being so irresistible.”

Your smile drops.

“Just for that, I’m saying no.”

“Waitwaitwait—” You make a move to get off Taehyun, but are stopped immediately with his hands on your side, forcing you to stay put the best you can— he tugs you back into him, cradling your face and ignoring your protests to let go.

“I lied, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry,” he coos, smiling at the way you continue to glare at him; so cute, he thinks, unable to stop himself from craning his neck up and placing a peck on your lips— you melt instantly, giggling softly and placing a peck of your own on the tip of his nose.

“I’ll see you after practice then.”

[81folklore]

heaven - PIASTRI - final part

pairings: oscar piastri x private!reader (fc: gracie abrams + pinterest)

summary: on the 2 year anniversary of oscars first win in f1, everyone’s favorite couple has a surprise

type: social media au (smau)

note: well this is it!! the final part to heaven!! this ending has always been the plan and im so pleased i can finally post it, this win has been a longgg time coming and i am super stoked for oscar!!! obviously not the best race (esp for mclaren fans) but we got through it and oscar won!!!! super duper proud of my mclaren boys and i cant wait to see many more 1-2 with them!!

i honestly cant believe this is the last part to this series, this was one of the first fics i ever posted and its crazy how far its come!! to this day i get notifs that people have found the first part to this series and it blows my mind how big this has gotten. i know ive been inactive for a long time but i hope by finally finishing this fic i will find love for creating fics again!!!! love u all🩵

heaven masterlist masterlist

set 2026

youruser

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 11,629 others

two years ago my best friend asked me to marry him, i said yes immediately. how could i say no to spending the rest of my life with someone i love so deeply?

today marks 6 months of him being my husband and i feel so incredibly blessed to be able to call him that, to be able to say that someone i love, loves me back just as much

but today is also the anniversary of my boys first win, which seems crazy now that he has many more under his belt but its true, its been two years since that crazy day in hungary and one that changed us forever

i have grown so much in the time we have been together and im so pleased i was able to do it with you, osc. i love you forever and always!

tagged oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri my favorite forever🤍

oscarpiastri marrying you was the best decision i have ever made

youruser my boy🌟🌟

comments on this post have been limited

oscarpiastri

liked by youruser, logansargeant and 1,382,003 others

i cant believe i get to call this gorgeous girl my wife, and i’ll be able to do so for the rest of our lives

you had never shone as brightly as on our wedding day, however youve continued to shine ever so bright since and i hope it never goes away, seeing you happy and content makes me feel like the luckiest man alive

thank you for saying yes all those years ago and thank you for trusting me with your heart, ill love you forever and always

your osc x

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youruser i love you so much osc

youruser you mean the world to me

landonorris congrats mate x

logansargeant i miss you guys :(

youruser we miss you too logie!!! we’ll be home soon and we will take you to dinner!!

logansargeant oscarpiastri promise?

oscarpiastri we promise

georgerussell63 happy for you both!

frederikvestiofficial come back soon i think logans withering away

oscarpiastri he’ll be fine for a few more days🙄

logansargeant nu huh!! i cant last much longer☹️

user66 oh my god she looks gorgeous 🥹🥹

oscarpiastri she is

user72 YOUR OSC😭😭😭😭

user6 im never getting over them☹️

user91 THEYRE MARRIED☹️☹️😭😭

user10 remember when yn said they werent getting married yet because they still had so much growing to do,, look at them now☹️

user47 i feel like everyones being too calm, WE DIDNT EVEN KNOW THEY WERE ENGAGED?!?!!?!

user64 LIKE WHY ARE WE NOT MORE SHOCKED

user22 bcs they are written in the stars and we all knew this was going to happen!!! liked by youruser

user30 yn with all the little babes oh i cant do this🥹🥹 liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri

liked by youruser, lewishamilton and 1,392,027 others

17.01.2026

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lewishamilton so happy for you mate, it was a gorgeous ceremony💜

logansargeant my favorite people in the whole world

oscarpiastri we love you

logansargeant 🥹🥹 (i love you guys too)

youruser my boy forever and ever and ever

oscarpiastri 🤍🤍

landonorris you guysss😕����

youruser love you lan!!!!

youruser

liked by oscarpiastri, yourmum 11,483 others

a story told in many parts💐

comments on this post have been limited

pinned youruser to osc, my best friend, my love, my husband i will love you until the end of time. i will hold your hand through everything and more, until death do us part x

youruser added to their story

story song added heaven by niall horan text reads: my 🏠

seen by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 12,472 others

replies

user72 OH MY FUCKING GODDDDD

user19 I CANNOT DEAL WITH YOU TWO 😔😔😔😔

user63 ur literally perfect for eachother wtfwtfwtf

user90 I FEEL SICK THIS IS SO CUTE

user6 oscar is so sweet🥹🥹

youruser the sweetest!!!!

[aisclosed]

love bites - y. jungwon x reader

vampirism comes with unusual cravings and unique solutions

PAIRING: vampire! y. jungwon x vampire! reader GENRE: vampire au , established relationship, fluff | WORDCOUNT: 2.2 k WARNINGS: slightly suggestive , mentions of blood n bites

You do your best to ignore it, the aching sensation radiating from your teeth. But the pain is insistent, throbbing twinges extending from your gums down into your jaw. 

The feeling is almost enough to make you cave, to call your boyfriend and whine for any sort of relief. Almost. Instead you sigh, eyes flickering out the large windows looking at the expanse of the city, the light of the stars competing with the fluorescent buildings and signs. 

It had been weeks since you'd last left your apartment, you weren't ready, not fully turned or prepared to navigate the world in your new form. Jungwon’s words, not your own, and as much as you missed walking the bustling streets with him, you knew he was right. 

There's a faint hunger in the back of your mind, one that had become all too familiar these past weeks. Your brain supplies memories of warm tteokbokki, noodles and dumplings despite knowing that none of the former options could satiate your appetite. As your skin lost its warmth, your heart slowing in its cavity, you had lost your palate for real food, instead craving something that you currently had no way to get on your own. 

Wincing as another stab of pain steals your attention. you run your tongue gingerly running across the edge of your teeth, feeling out the sharp edge of the unfamiliar fangs that had begun to protrude. 

“I thought I told you to tell me if it hurts,” a low voice cuts through the silence, your heart jumping at the disruption. Even after years of dating, you could never get used to your boyfriend appearing abruptly from the shadows. You snap your mouth shut, glancing over to meet narrowed feline eyes with poorly feigned nonchalance. 

“It doesn't hurt, I’m fine,” you say breezily, drawing a scoff from Jungwon. He stalks forward, reaching out to cradle your face, his thumb brushing across your cheek. The icy temperature of his skin is a welcome sensation, and you lean into his palm letting it soothe the flaring ache in your jaw. 

“And you expect me to believe you when you're acting like this?” Jungwon mutters unamusedly. You crack your eyes open from where they had fluttered close, sweeping over his furrowed brows. Despite his best attempts at maintaining his stern expression, he was given away easily by the way his eyes softened upon making contact with yours. 

Jungwon knew your stubborn mannerisms well, that you would rather suffer than admit to him that you needed his help. Which is how he knew that once you had set your mind to joining him as a vampire you wouldn't relent until your wish was granted. Yet that hadn’t stopped him from trying for several weeks to convince you that it wasn't a necessary change. Promises that he would still love you regardless of how you aged and no he didn’t mind that one day you might be mistaken for his sugar mommy rather than his centuries younger girlfriend. His last comment had earned him an indignant scoff rather than an enamored smile like he had been expecting, and he had spent the rest of the day sucking up to you for your forgiveness. 

It had taken many arguments, tears, warnings, pleading kisses and long conversations on what exactly eternity together detailed before Jungwon had surrendered. His coven had been ecstatic at the news, congratulating him with hearty claps on the shoulder and teasing ‘about time’s. 

In all honesty, the pair of you both knew that when it came down to it, Jungwon would much rather have you by his side forever than let you wither away. You were his, and he was yours, and when he thought about an eternal lifetime with you his happiness was poorly concealed. Jungwon only wished that it wasn't at the cost of your own humanity. You would no longer be able to enjoy your favorite foods, your cheeks wouldn’t redden to the same degree when he teased you, you’d have to see your loved ones leave this earth, one by one. 

The guilt ate at him more than the pain ate at you, and that was your main motivation to hide the truth. So you did your best to swallow back the complaints and whines that threatened to spill from your lips, unwilling to see guilt swimming in his red tinted eyes. It’s a futile attempt, given that Jungwon could pick up on the waves of pain through your newly formed blood bond, his attentive eyes catching each wince.

Sighing in exasperation, Jungwon grasps your chin, tapping your bottom lip with his thumb, ”Open up for me baby, let me take a look at your fangs.” You consider insisting you’re fine, that his examination is entirely unnecessary, but the thought is dismissed by the firm look Jungwon gives you, and you comply baring your teeth as best as you could. 

You wait patiently as Jungwon inspects your teeth, tilting your chin up to grant him a better view. Instead you take the opportunity to admire your boyfriend's handsome features, the slope of his nose and the angle of his jawline. Your eyes trail down the expanse of his neck, decorated with traces of your lips and two faint puncture marks, long healed to where they looked more akin to moles than scars. 

From his close proximity you can smell an enticing fragrance wafting from his body. Jungwon always smelled good, of warm amber and clean linen sheets, but there was another underlying scent that caught your attention. There's blood pumping through his veins, fresh blood, Jungwon had recently hunted and fed. The thought causes your vision to cloud, hunger prickling at the edges of your mind.

“Baby,” Jungwon calls out softly, and your eyes drag away from his neck, struggling to find his own in your dazed state. “You're literally drooling,” he chuckles, tucking your hair behind your ear and tugging on the lobe affectionately. 

He had noticed your wandering attention, the way your stare locked onto his neck, a red tint slowly creeping into your eyes and your fangs fully extending against the pads of his prodding fingers. It was a good sign, your instincts were getting stronger and your senses sharper. Soon, you'd be a full fledged vampire. 

A slight flush spreads across your cheeks, the best it can with the limited blood flowing through your system. “Sorry,” you apologize meekly, embarrassed at the prospect of being caught openly salivating over him. 

Jungwon only coos at you teasingly, leaning down to peck your pink cheeks, and then grazing his lips against the slightly raw puncture wounds on your neck. Unlike other injuries which would quickly be remedied by their healing abilities, the initial bite, meant to turn you into a vampire, required much more patience, only closing when the transformation was complete.

The skin on your neck was still broken and bruised but as much as it pained Jungwon to know he had caused you hurt, it also gave him a twisted sense of satisfaction to see the mark he had left on you. He always loved littering your skin with love bites but seeing them fade was his least favorite part. His bite mark would forever remain, a testament to the vows you had made to each other the day he had turned you. 

“Nothing to apologize for my love, I drank extra today because I knew you'd be hungry. C’mere.” He tugs you towards the couch, sitting down on the plush seat then pulling you unceremoniously onto his lap. 

The minuscule distance makes your fangs push uncomfortably against your lips, unable to deny the alluring scent wafting from your boyfriend. You wait for Jungwon to bite into his wrist and present it to you, the way he had fed you each time these past few weeks. 

Instead Jungwon just smirks at you, a mischievous glint in his eye as he leans back against the cushions. “Well? I thought you were hungry baby, come kiss me and bite me.” You splutter, panicking at the mere mention of having to bite him, but Jungwon merely laughs in response, rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back. 

“Don’t be nervous, your fangs are more than ready to do the job and I’ll stop you if anything goes wrong. Remember darling, you bite firmly, sink your teeth in to make a clean wound instead of ripping tissue. As soon as it's secure, you release some venom to alleviate the pain, make it feel nice for everyone and only then do you start to drink. The hardest part is stopping before you do too much damage but I’ll let you know if you're getting to that point okay?” 

“Wonnie, I don't want to accidentally hurt you-,” you start to protest but Jungwon cuts you off with a firm kiss to your lips. 

“You’ll be fine. I promise. If you don’t trust yourself, trust in me, hm? You need to drink so you can feel better and who better to practice on than me? Come on love, I promise I don’t bite,” he murmurs cheekily against your lips, inciting a roll of your eyes, a derisive laugh escaping from your chest at the irony. 

Shaking your head in mock exasperation, you concede, leaning in to plant a peck against Jungwon’s smirking mouth. You trail kisses lower until you've reached the hollow of his neck, ears pricking as soft satisfied sighs escape from his parted lips. 

Angling your head, you finally sink your teeth into his skin, your hands finding his shoulders for support. Jungwon's grip on your waist tightens for a split second until you release your venom, relaxing as the pain subsides and gives way to pleasure. 

 A metallic flavor floods your mouth, relief washing over you as the pain and hunger ebb away. Instead you focus on the taste against your tongue and the way Jungwon strokes your hair tenderly, pressing mumbled praises and groans against the side of your head. 

It's when you begin to feel nearly intoxicated at the feeling of feeding that Jungwon whispers into the hollow of your ear softly, “Alright sweetheart, it's time to stop drinking. Let the last of your venom out and then retract your fangs, help the wound close up, you're doing so good for me baby.” You follow his instructions as best you can given the foggy state of your mind, finally pulling away to look into Jungwon’s eyes. 

He rests his forehead against yours, cupping your jaw fondly, “You did perfectly darling, I'm so proud of you,” Jungwon tilts his face, slotting your lips together, fingers tangling into your hair to bring you closer. You loop your arms around his broad shoulders melting into his embrace. He sighs into your mouth, humming contently at the faint taste before reluctantly pulling away. 

“You were so good baby, soon you'll be able to go out and hunt for yourself no problem,” Jungwon beams at you. Still dizzy from the rush that drinking gave you, blood rushing in your ears, you settle into his arms, burying into the crook of his neck.. 

“I’d rather just have you hunt enough for the both of us and just let me drink from you,” you bat your eyes at Jungwon sweetly and he snorts in response. 

“You must really be blood drunk if you expect me to act as your personal Uber eats for the rest of millenia,” he teases, pinching your cheek. 

You huff petulantly, “Considering I’ve been your walking bloodbag for the past few years I think you owe me at least a year or two of the same.” 

“Not my fault you smell so yummy,” Jungwon noses at the column of your neck, his fangs grazing the skin, “how could you expect me to want anything else?” 

You try to push his face away from your neck to little avail. Jungwon held you tightly in his grasp, knowing you were just being difficult to mess with him. “Well your pickiness and lack of self control is the reason all my neighbors think I get my neck mauled by a bear every night. I refuse to start hunting, you’re just gonna make me into your personal juicebox again,” you grumble, giving in and letting Jungwon continue his ministrations. Vampire my ass, if anything he was more akin to an overgrown kitten, always nuzzling and nipping at your neck. 

Jungwon leans back far enough to knock his head into yours playfully, “Yeah right, you love when I give you love bites.” You go to protest but Jungwon cocks his head challengingly, his eyes daring you to try and deny it. The words die in the base of your throat, and you swallow harshly, your face heating as you look away, muttering half hearted insults under your breath. 

“Did you say something sweetheart?” Jungwon asks teasingly, and you widen your eyes in mock horror, knowing that with his heightened senses he had very clearly heard every word. 

“Just saying how much I love you darling,” you blink up at him, with a saccharine smile. 

Jungwon laughs, his dimple on full display, pressing a sweet kiss on your lips. “I love you more baby, even if that means I have to hunt for two for the rest of my very long life.” You give a satisfied hum and cuddle happily into his hold. Forever seemed a lot less daunting in Jungwon’s arms. 

a/n: ,,,,,idk what to say about this one. I wanted to give you guys something bc MTM is taking so long and I'm about to leave for vacation,,, and this ended up being the product of my 2am thoughts.... hope u enjoy :)

perm taglist: @hoonsunivrs @pkjay @thatfeelinwhenyou @lacimolela @ttalgi @cieluna @ahnneyong @luvlee1313 @meowmeowhoon @llama-lyna @dmoki @w3bqrl @16doie @itsvynnie @saintells @given8taken @yakjw @miukityy @meowwonie @simp4jakesim @teddywons @flowertothejungwon @skywithf1 @yur1a1 @nyeonglover @fallingenluvv

[withered-stars-au]

Any Hobbies you guys have besides... well uh eating and uhm- I assume you guys eat Earthlings too...- So uh- Anyways, any hobbies other than eating's and such- If they're eating right now when this gets answe-

Pollux: *drinking a milkshake* ummm.... Painting and umm drinking the paint

Lunar: and that Pollux is how you get sick

Castor: reading

Lunar: you basic bi-

*signal lost because pollux are teh device*

[slowlysoluminary]

Reset AU ... mirror room art piece and a supplemental from ghostloop's pov 🎉

Writing under the cut! (Lots of words... oops!!!!!!!)

(Venturing through the house has been nothing short of a terror.)

(The sadnesses littering the area are NOT helping!)

(Granted, you know how to fight - you have each sadness' type memorized, each name and gimmick on lock - but your craft...)

(You're not sure what Craft type you are. You're corporeal enough for your hits to connect, but not corporeal enough for attacks to land on you. Harder still, considering the craft types are all equally as easy for you to summon.)

(Maybe "easy for you to summon" is poor phrasing. Your attacks feel wrong. Unfamiliar.)

(Your Piercing Craft likes to trail, not unlike the rest of your body. You struggle the least with Scissors-type attacks, but it feels like something fundamental is missing in each of your strikes.)

(Your Creative Craft leaves after-images. You thought you were Paper craft for a good while, but you're clumsy with it - like it wasn't made with your body in mind.)

(Your Protector's Craft sparks like energy through your fist. Something pangs at your chest each time you form the handshape.)

(Your attacks are strange. Craft personalizes itself to its user, but for such attuned craft to be so alien....)

(Thinking about it gives you a weird headache.)

(So you won't!!)

(You watch Siffrin fight. He made you sit out of battle after that time you downed yourself. Impeccable aim, Loop!!)

(... They never win, but you figure you should respect their wishes regardless.)

(You feel Experienced. Like these sadnesses would wither away if you poked them too hard. They probably would, if you could land a hit in the first place!)

(You can't help but compare the way he fights with the way you fight. Or, the way you think you should.)

(Like his name, like the House, like everything else, it's all familiar. You fight the same way as him, but your craft makes it difficult to do so comfortably.)

(You can't help but be envious. Why are you envious?)

(The style isn't even yours! You're pretty sure it's adapted from his, even!!)

(Nothing is your own. Not even your body is safe!!! Your skin prickles when you look down. Stars dance across your form naturally, yet it feels unnatural all the same.)

(Stars, are you going crazy? You think you're going crazy!)

(Siffrin shifts next to you, walking comfortably in your silence. You lead the way to the next door.)

("Why Stardust?" They asked you that, before. At least, you think they did? What did you respond with? Something about what's left...?)

(... You don't know. Just, seeing him, talking to him - he's Stardust! So, you must be Loop.)

(It found you so easily in your sea of muddled memories. It must be what the Universe willed!)

(But you still don't know. But you still can't remember. What's wrong with you?)

"Finally, third floor..."

(Siffrin turns a key. You're climbing the House. Right.)

(You smile. Is it forced? You're not sure. The gesture reminds you of something.)

>"Awh, good job, Stardust! It only took you... ehm...."

>"20 Loops! That's great! A bit worse than me, but who's keeping track, right?"

"'A bit worse than you?' Did you remember something?"

("A bit worse than you?")

>"What? I didn't say anything."

(You didn't. Did you?)

(Siffrin makes a noise. They're looking at you funny.)

"Nevermind."

(O~kay. Weird.)

...

(The King sobs.)

(They talk to you about him. A lot more than you want them to, if you're being honest.)

(Hearing his name, his likeness, to be spoken of so fondly - you feel rage. A deep and primal anger you're sure you've never felt before and will never feel again.)

(So, yes! Hearing the King sob the whole time like he's not actively dooming an entire blinding country has done wonders on your psyche! The reminder of his existence fills you with such joy and whimsy!)

(Your smile is pulled so taut you think it would tear at your skin, if you had any.)

(Siffrin's expression is plagued with sympathy. Something in your core stirs violently at the thought.)

>"Chin up, soldier~! One more floor to climb!"

(The sympathetic look fades, but you don't feel any better. You don't think about the implications.)

"... Right. One more floor."

>"I hope all this effort was worth it!"

"Ditto. Even if I can't snap some sense into him, I just..."

"I want to talk. I've told you about it before, but-"

(stop don't talk about him no no no no)

>"STARdust! Surely there's no need to go over everything again!"

>"You might be forgetful, but helpful Loop here already knows the ins and outs of your fool-proof plan~!!"

>"You've told me about it, you continue to tell me about it, you don't stop telling me about it — I GET IT ALREADY!"

>"Just. We'll. We'll get to it when we get to it, right? Please."

(you're not sure why)

(but the thought of talking to the king fills your entire being with sickness)

(Too bad you can't throw up! Teehee!!)

(Siffrin looks pained.)

"Right, I'll just -- I'm."

"I'm sorry..."

(Oh.)

(His voice is so tender. So quiet.)

(You ruined it.)

(That's fine. You don't -- you don't need the ability anyway. You can make your way through the house on your own. You don't need them to get stronger. It's fine.)

(...)

(What were you thinking about? It doesn't matter.)

>"So~! That out of the way."

(This time you ignore the King wailing above you.)

>"Where do we go?"

(His face is hidden from you, beneath the brim of his hat. You have a fun time thinking about the expression under it!)

(Is it twisted in frustration? Appalled? Mortified? Betrayed?)

(You know those faces like the back of your hand, but the specifics amalgam in your head, a foggy mass of uncertainty.)

(You feel a tingle on your cheek.)

(... Yes, fun! What fun!)

(Siffrin clears their throat.)

"... You've been leading me through most of the House, Loop."

"So I thought you would know where to go?"

(You have?)

>"I have?"

"Yes?????"

(What????)

>"No I haven't."

"Yes? You have??"

(He looks offended???)

"The rock trap? The key I missed in the Head Housemaiden's office?"

>"'Fraid you're not ringing any bells!!"

(Conversations are one of the only things you remember. Everything else blends together.)

(So, you should know this, shouldn't you? They must've brought it up a few times while you were walking. You weren't thinking too hard about where you were going. The paths feel wholly natural to you... But you do remember that the amount of times you had to give Siffrin a Super Sour Tonic was atrocious, really.)

(How does anyone lose to sadnesses THAT often? It's ridiculous! He should just let you fight!!!)

"Loop?"

(Whoops!!! You should pay more attention to your surroundings...)

(...)

(No, okay, wait.)

>"When did we get to the mirror room?"

(The glare Siffrin gives you bears the striking image of absolute incredulocity.)

(That's not a word. Whatever!!! You can make up new words if you so please!!)

"You're kidding."

>"Completely serious question, Stardust!"

"...'Stardust, I am the epitome of good memory...'"

(HE'S MOCKING YOU!!)

>"I am! I swear it on my mother!"

"Stars have mothers?"

(You shrug before remembering to raise a gloved hand to your mouth.)

>"I don't know!"

>"But I'm sure, if I had one, she'd be especially bright."

(An eyeroll.)

(They don't laugh.)

(Why does that bother you?)

(Eh, probably because that one was funny! No fair!)

>"You're no fun, Stardust..."

"Okay."

>"Whatever! I'll find a pun buddy somewhere else!!"

"And where would you go? Vaugarde's frozen in time."

("And you're practically a ghost," is what goes unsaid.)

(...mmm. No, it's fine.)

>"I'll write to them! We'll be pen pals!"

>"Or I guess we'd be pun pals, ehe."

(They snort. Mission success!!!)

"Not funny."

>"Oh, come on! You laughed!! That means I won the bet!"

"The bet was about laughing at your jokes. Puns don't count."

(Bummer! You pout.)

"Real talk. Any particular reason for bringing us here? I trust you, but..."

"... The only thing in here is that mirror."

(They point to the large mirror at the end of the corridor. You nod. There is a mirror, and nothing else.)

>"Indeed so."

"And you called it the mirror room?"

(Did you?)

>"No I didn't."

"I'm not arguing with you again..."

(Aren't they doing that already?)

"Just answer the question."

>"I wasn't aware I was being interrogated! I need a lawyer!!!"

"Loop."

>"Fine! I-... Um."

>"I."

>"I'm not ... quite sure?"

"You're not sure."

>"Nope!"

(They sigh.)

"So you led us here... for no particular reason?"

>"Exactly!"

>"Well. No, I'm sure there's some reason we're here."

>"I feel like there's something else in this room, you know?"

>"But! As far as I'm aware!! There is nothing in here!!! Save for that dazzling old mirror!!!!"

"Right."

(He doesn't believe you.)

"... Let's look around, then?"

>"Sounds good to me."

(You look around.)

(Okay, you don't actually do anything. Siffrin's going at it, though!)

(He checks the pillars. And the corners. And the bricks. And the pillars again.)

(It's... really boring.)

(It's better than the Other Thing you could be doing. The Elephant In The Room. The Big Mirror In The Corridor-Room. That.)

(Hm. Hmmmmmmm.)

(You weigh your options.)

(Boredom. Or headache. Boriiing borreeedooom...... or excruciating headache.)

(Or answers? You don't know the mirror's deal! You could get something meaningful out of this!)

(Or you could get a headache.)

(Or you could lean against a pillar, bored, for the rest of eternity, waiting to be Done and Over With This.)

(...)

(You've been pointedly ignoring the existence of the mirror for quite the while now.)

(Something goads you. A whisper.)

(You follow. Siffrin watches you, curious.)

(You don't... You don't really want to look.)

(Just looking down spikes something uncomfortable under your skin.)

(So you're not sure what to expect, if you were to look in your reflection.)

(Whispers turn to spoken tongue turn to yelling turn to screaming as you approach the glass. Yet, no matter how loud they get, how heartfelt they screech, you can't make out the words.)

(Something in you hurts as you stand in front of the glass.)

(You take a breath)

(in, and out.)

(And you look up.)

(and all at once)

(everything goes quiet)

(...)

(You gaze at your reflection)

(You gaze at a star.)

(is this you?)

(you wave your hand)

(it waves back.)

(You frown. It frowns too.)

(Stars. All up its body.)

(More than you could dream of, could you still dream in the first place.)

(Flame-like spikes flicker freely from its head, immitating hair.)

(Imitating life.)

(You're looking at a ghost.)

(you're a ghost?)

(The screaming returns. You flinch back in surprise. The ghost does not flinch with you.)

(LOOP, it screams. LOOP, LOOP, LOOP, LOOP !!!)

(Its head morphs. It's something spikier, now. It's something right.)

(your head hurts)

(The ghost snickers at you. You look at it.)

(You look at it)

(it's)

(it's)

(loop)

(you look at loop)

(LOOP, the screaming chants, in agreement. LOOP!)

(someone is shaking you?)

(this is loop)

(but you're loop?)

(are you loop?)

(The screaming rises. You didn't think it could get any louder. You cover your ears and cower. It doesn't do anything)

(loop laughs at you.)

(you forgot)

(of course you forgot! you always forget! forgetful little siffrin! sieve brain siffrin)

(you stole their role. in the play)

(you stole them)

(you)

"LOOP!"

(You blink)

(You is in front of you. Your back is leaning against cool glass.)

(if your back is to the mirror)

(how are you looking in your reflection?)

(The you in front of you sighs.)

"You were out cold there... What happened, Loop?"

(you wait for them to respond)

("Nothing, Stardust!! You should go help out your little entourage! Or, you know, you could do something more productive? Like talk to the Head Housemaiden?")

(that's what you think they would say)

(you feel a shiver)

"... I'm not... part of a party...? Oh, no, nevermind. I get it."

(your reflection releases you. you slump to the ground.

(you pull your hands up to your head)

(and stop)

(your arms)

(your arms..)

"Loop."

>"... Loop?"

(Oh!)

>"Yes! I am Loop."

(Siffrin gives you That Look again.)

"What was all that?"

(All that?)

>"I'm not sure what you're talking about!"

"It was like you... um..."

"Forgot your name. Or something."

(Forgot your name? Scandalous!! You'd never forget such a thing!)

>"Nope, all good!"

>"I just... hm. Thought you were talking to someone else there, for a second?"

>"But I'm fine now!"

"If you say so."

(He doesn't take your word for this, either.)

(Oh well!)

(You bend down and flip the switch, extra careful not to look at the mirror. Or the photo that materializes in front of it.)

"How did you-?"

(They try to ask, but you're already moving for the key.)

(Loop.)

(That's you!)

(So why does that name remind you of someone else?)

[sardar106]

This is for anyone who wants to make/find any Sherbverse, Fable SMP, Bound SMP and Mer SMP roleplay accounts!

The characters who have more than one account will also be added

I will put the Sherbversions in their specific world too, but both but Midas and Charles will be only on the sherbverse list

The list will go alphabetically (hopefully)

Tell me if I missed any and if new ones are made!

Not that I’ve seen any, but I should have said this before. Do not, and I mean do not make an rp account of anyone who stated that they aren’t okay with them.

Sherbverse

Sherberts:

Ashril: pigeon-prince-or-something, run-run-roadrunner Ajax: ajax-lightning-zephyr, lighting-in-my-veins, thunder-twink Caine: the-better-coyote Cedar: cedars-potionshop EP-S110N56 (Epsilon): error-404-location-not-found Helix: hidden-amongst-the-dark, eyeblood-engineer Icarus: icarus-morningstar, icarixis-morningstar, icarus-m0rningstar, a-little-tragedy-arent-you, gilded-wings-and-golden-hearts Krithos: kritos-dawn Midas: colorful-shades-of-gray, quixis-midas, your-guardian-this-millennia, rainbow-decay Reo: armoured-fighter, cracked-armour, theyoungeststellam Ripley: navigating-spectral-seas Sherbert: elf-lad-says-things Sherwood: sleepy-pirate-person

Sherbverse misc:

Azalea: local-herb-lady Charles: charles-and-no-one-else Emma: emmie-ocie-golden Graeme: the-betterstellam Haley (Events): archer-of-the-dark Haley (GMS): silly-swords Hayraen: hey-a-skyrate Helios: helios-event Lily: the-lil-lady Rae (Among Us): scientist-in-orbit Rael: shifting-through-the-void Rayko: host-of-curses Rondael: rondael-richard Theia: flowers-by-a-different-name

Sherbverse AUs:

Band AU - Midas: under-rainbow-spotlights - Icarus: bird-song-shines, songbird-soars  Corrupt! Icarus: wilted-feathers Decaying! Icarus: decayed-wings-of-gold Epic AU! Icarus: i-miss-my-husband-tails Evil Midas: drowning-in-the-light Midas as new Quixis: rainbows-of-flashing-lights Icarus as young Quixis: lost-in-the-bright-lights Icarus raised by Fable: prince-of-the-gilded ^^^ + younger than Rae: im-prince-icarus Icarus raised by Ulysses: bird-underwater Icarus raised by moms: icarus-mindstar Icarus with wither sickness, wack, and decay: protector-of-decay Sherbert as Quixis: the-fading-purple

Fable SMP

Characters:

Aax: thebesttesttubeuncle, tiny-perseus Arisanna: the-librari Athena: athena-morningstar, small-athena Caspian: caspian-solcrect Centross: centross-mistvale, baby-reaper Easton: easton-pine, professorpine Fenris: fenris-nightingal Haley: oracle-haley Icarus: icarus-morningstar, icarixis-morningstar, icarus-m0rningstar, a-little-tragedy-arent-you, gilded-wings-and-golden-hearts Jamie/Bruin: bruin-pine Momboo: momboo-pine, rain-and-rotting-flowers Oceana: ocean-bringer Rae: rae-m0rningstar, vessel-of-wonder, tiny-raemorningstar, rae-morningstar13, little-rae-morningstar13 Seven: that-one-robot-guy Ulesses: ulysses-themist Ven: reclusive-author, notafakeginger, wet-fox-artist

Gods and NPCs:

Alerion: little-space-major Cari: cari-morningcrest Casus: casus-luck, siren-of-luck Enderian: enderian-morningstar Epros: the-void-of-the-end Everett: everett-morningstar Fable: fable-creation, king-of-the-overworld Hope: hope-pup Isla: isla-morningstar Jerry: jericho-cree Kinaxus: protectorofenergy Malitae: x-malitae-x, god-of-expression Netherum: nethrum Oscar: oscarlittleguy Perix: perix-illusion Soul: goddess-of-souls Raemond: raemond-morningstar Terry: the-best-cree-brother Vaeh: thebestestnightingstar, loyalty-goddess-pt2 Vikesh: vikesh-moon Vorago: vorago-god-of-depths, god-of-depths and also Fable pets cus why not: fable-pet-collective

Fable AUs:

Band AU:  - Aax: drum-olm - Arisanna: songs-of-the-allay - Athena: flame-sings - Caspian: cas-chord - Centross: song-reaper - Fenris: singing-wolf - Fable: creation-records - Icarus: bird-song-shines, songbird-soars  - Isla: orchid-morningstars - Malitae: artist-on-the-stage - Rae: void-star-singer - Ven: wet-fox-artist Corrupt AU: - Centross: the-violet-reaper - Fenris: vengful-danger-wolf - Icarus: wilted-feathers - Momboo: rain-and-rotting-flowers - Rae: mind-prince, the-skulked-puppet Epic AU:  - genderbent Centross: queen-of-ithaca - Icarus: i-miss-my-wife-gods Hero Villain AU:   - Athena: prince-of-the-flames - Fable: gilded-hand-of-gold - Haley: the-forgotten-oracle - Icarus: the-forgotten-alchemist Skulked AU: - Aax: decaying-test-tube - Ocie: polluted-ocean Decaying! Icarus: decayed-wings-of-gold Fable be good dad: guiding-gilded-light Fable if Icarus became Quixis young: creation-by-a-god Isla never leaving Fable: the-trapped-princess Icarus as young Quixis: lost-in-the-bright-lights Icarus raised by Fable: prince-of-the-gilded ^^^ + younger than Rae: im-prince-icarus Icarus raised by moms: icarus-mindstar Icarus raised by Ulysses: bird-underwater Icarus with wither sickness, wack, and decay: protector-of-decay Rae if he took Enderian’s deal in s1: prince-of-the-court Rae raised by Enderian after Ic’s “death”: son-of-mind Rae raised by Fable after Ic’s “death”: never-his-son Withering! Athena: withering-alliums

Mer SMP

Faye: shark-biter Gyn: the-final-leviathan Krithos: kritos-dawn Raylen: raylan-dawn Theodore: theo-sealan, theosealan

SkyBound SMP

Armor: winged-warrior-1 Ashril: pigeon-prince-or-something, run-run-roadrunner Gavrien: fashionable-bird Marcel: cardinal-north Mojave: the-onewinged-artist Rune: engineer-lad Sylph: zip-zap-sylph Vast: ranger-of-the-sky, the-remaining-cadere13

Bound misc:

Castrel: castrel-is-hunting Jade: littlebirbie Jasper: stringtheif

Bound AUs:

Pokemon AU! Vast: ranger-of-the-sky

ohhkay. this took a lot of brain cells /pos and as stated in the beginning, tell me of other accounts!

I thought I’d add this here too; make sure to use #roleplay on every post/reblog and the corresponding rp tag when roleplaying any of them!

also! I have made a google docs with the same exact list, but with the links of each account intro if you press the username

link!

[angelkissiies]

nectar of angels

abby anderson x reader

cw : modern!au , church girl!abby , church girl!reader , dom!abby , sub!reader , religious imagery , blasphemy , corruption kink , religious guilt , purity culture (mentioned) , god / power kink , oral ( r ! receiving ) , probably more ?? read at your own discretion !

wc : 3.2K

Her leg bounced restlessly, hymn book almost completely forgotten, as she stared at the cross decorating the altar. It was hot, the heat of the sun burning her skin as it filtered through the panes of colored mosaic, making her shift uncomfortably as she tried to keep her eyes off of you. Something about the sweat tempting her brow made her instinctively tense her fists, the rolling sensation taking her back to the feeling of your core pulsing around her fingers. She was too far gone, the words of her father passing through her, body occupied with an untameable craving. 

“Abigail?” The man beside her whispered, a sharp edge in his voice as he craned his neck to speak to her– eyes still trained on the man pacing behind the altar. 

She froze, hands coming to attention in her lap. “Yes, sir?” She murmured, slowly angling her face away from the floor to take him in. It was one of her father's friends, a man she saw around often. Moore, she thought his last name was– not that it mattered because the scorn set in his face was enough to make her wither away on the spot. 

He tore his eyes from the preacher, steely gaze landing on the blonde. “You are being distracting, Abigail, you should know better.” He berated, the grip he had on his bible tensing, narrowing his eyes as he took her in. “What is wrong with you, girl?” 

Abby straightened up in her seat, shaking her head as she tried to make herself smaller in his lingering gaze. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m just feeling rather plagued by the spirit today.” She hummed, clearing her throat slightly as she spoke. “God is speaking to me.” Her thoughts shot back to you. The tender flesh of your breasts in her hands, the cries for God you’d released into her mouth, the angelic halo of ecstasy on your face– it was hungry work to be as devout as she was. The only God she’d ever come to know sitting across the aisle, begging for her worship, it took everything in her to not give in. 

“Is that so?” 

She nodded quickly, taking a shallow breath, crossing her legs to dull the growing ache in her cunt. She knew how devious her thoughts were, she’d spent many restless nights begging for God to take them away, but she’d come to realize that this must have been God’s will. He wouldn’t give her something so beautiful and expect her not to satiate herself on the divinity. “Yes, sir.” Her voice cracked, a bead of sweat rolling down her temple. 

The man gave her a curt nod, relaxing back into his seat, eyes glued back to the preacher. It was unlike anyone to really give her much trouble, seeing as she was usually the star of the sermon– with her girlish looks and obedient soul, it was hard not to like her. So most would brush off her odd behaviors lately as the musings of a young girl, even though she had grown well beyond that of a child, now sitting at 20 years of age. To them, she was being crafted into the perfect wife. To her, she was being unshackled from the chains– her mind woven into one amassed of ‘deviant’ love for a woman. 

“That will be all for today.” Her father wrapped up his lecture, setting his bible down on the lectern with a loud thump. “My daughter, Abigail, will be staying to collect canned donations for the food bank– which is next week, in case anyone missed last week's flyers.” He smiled, moving a hand out to wave towards Abby– who looked lost for half a second before giving a small nod. “God bless you all.” 

The church immediately lit up with light chatter, the shuffling of feet sending Abby out of her seat and towards the doors. There was nothing she wanted more than to be out of there, her feet moving on autopilot as she took the stairs two at a time– almost falling when she met the carpet at the bottom. She took a second to catch her breath, hand shaking as it gripped the railing, at this point she had evaded anyone who possibly would have stolen her attention– leaving her to fight the growing heat in her cunt alone. 

“Shit.” She hissed, backing up to rest against the concrete wall of the stairwell. The cold seeped through the knit of her cardigan, erecting a small sigh fall from her lips. She was burning up, still, using the back of her hand to wipe away the beads of sweat collecting at the nape of her neck. You were like a fever, coursing through her body and setting off alarm bells, sweating her out of her faith. 

The sound of the door swinging open made her jump, quickly smoothing down her hair to appear more put together as she feigned busy. Her legs carried her over to the table in the corner, picking up the clipboard to gaze at as the person made their way down the steps. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears as she flipped the pages gingerly, not taking anything in. 

“Abby–,” You began, eyes cast on her turned figure, slowly stepping down off of the last stair. 

She spun around, an incredulous look on her face, letting the board clatter down onto the table. The growing fever cast a desperate haze over her, making her legs tremble slightly, the things she’d do to have her hands on you were too blasphemous to even think. The sight of you was too much, making her look away in shame. “What are you doing here?” She asked, glancing towards the side door– just in case anyone was close enough to hear. 

You let a small smile pull at your lips, hand still sitting on the railing, tilting your head at her avoidance. “I came to see you.” You stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, the golden cross necklace shifting further into the divide of your chest as you swung slightly on the metal pole. “I needed.. to ask you for something.”

The girl felt her heart drop into her stomach, urging her to look up at you. “W-what is it?” She spoke quietly, taking a small step away from the table as she allowed herself to really look at you. The soft pink and white of your floral skirt hid the curves of your hips, long white sleeves concealing your untroubled skin, cardigan protecting the virtues she longed for. You were so pure it hurt. She tried to get you out of her head but every glimpse of your body sent her over the edge, needing lessons in temptation from the devil himself before she’d ever be able to look at you without a burning lust. 

“I was wondering if you’d mind helping me out.” You hummed, releasing the railing as you took a couple steps toward her. From this distance, she could now see the tabbed bible poking out from under your other arm– making her press her thighs together. “The feeling... it’s back again.” You felt oddly nervous, shifting on your feet as your panties clung uncomfortably to your drooling cunt, you knew she could help– seeing as she’d done it before, just a few nights ago. You didn’t understand the feeling that bubbled in your tummy, only knowing that it was caused by the glimpses you’d caught of the girl before you– the image of her silken skin beneath her lacy skirt made a heat rush over you– it was unfamiliar, unlike anything you’d ever felt in the presence of a man. 

Abby’s breath caught in her throat, her hand coming to grip the edge of the table so hard she thought it might break. She felt dizzy, your words sending a pulse of need into her cunt, her eyes fluttering slightly as she tried to find the restraint to not take you right there, right now. “Y-yes, please.” She practically whined, kicking herself for how desperate she sounded. “I mean, yes. I will.” 

You giggled, rushing up to wrap your arms around the blonde, taking a deep breath as you squeezed her. “Thank you so much, you’re the best friend ever.” You said matter-of-factly, not noticing how her entire body tensed up. 

“Thanks,” She sighed, patience growing thin as she felt your breasts press into her, moving one arm to wrap around you gently. It was pure torture, temperature skyrocketing as she looked to the statue of Mary for advice– before rolling her eyes. She was a virgin, how could she help? “Would you do something for me?” 

You pulled back, nodding, doe eyes making her look away. “Of course, what do you need?” 

She knew better, she knew that this would be the thing that sent her to hell out of all things she found herself doing. It was a perfect sentence, just to taste the nectar of an angel, and she welcomed it. “Go check to make sure everyone is gone, lock the doors, and come back.” She instructed, her mind slipping from guilt to desire– no longer willing to beg for stronger resolve. “I can help you now, would you like that, angel?” 

You were immediately shuffling away, nodding vigorously as you took back steps towards the stairs. “Yes, ma’am, I'll be right back.” It was needed, the warmth in your panties soaking through to coat the inside of your thighs, making you practically run up the stairs. As you popped out from downstairs, you glanced around, feeling a familiar heat rise in your cheeks. She had called you angel again, something that hadn’t clicked until now, making you struggle to continue to breathe properly– eyes making a b-line for the cross in the middle of the room. You were just a girl, not an angel, but you couldn’t help feeling giddy at the status she’d given you in her eyes. 

Abby could’ve run after you, forcing you on your hands and knees before God and man alike, hands winding in your little skirt as she carnally hungered for the mere sight of your pretty cunt. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt, nothing compared to the softness of your walls and the warm arousal as it dripped down her hand– making her let out a soft groan at just the memory. She knew how fucked up this had to be, seeing as you didn’t understand the significance of allowing her to touch you like this, making a momentary shame wash over her. You were just a poor sheltered girl, one she needed in the most unholy way, unknowingly betraying your covenant to God. “Fuck.” She sighed, her tense grip on the table releasing as she took a small step away, pulling off her sweatshirt and dragging the sleeves of her black long-sleeved shirt up her forearms. 

You had checked every room upstairs, finding nobody hanging around, your mission coming to a halt at the front doors– fingers turning the lock into place before bounding back to the stairs, letting the door slam behind you as you took them two at a time. “I did it, there's nobody.” You affirmed, moving to the couch on the other side of the room, plopping yourself down before grabbing at the frills of your skirt– pulling them up hastily. “Now please, please? I can’t take it anymore.” You whimpered, the cold air of the basement hitting the soaked cotton of your panties. 

Abby fought back the moan that tempted her lips at the sight, your big doe eyes filled with frustration and the massive wet spot darkening the white fabric– making it almost completely see-through, giving her a borderline pornographic sight of your cunt. “God, what have you been thinking about?” She asked, coming to stand before you, eyes locked onto the desperation lacing your soft features. “What has you so worked up, angel?” She brought a knee up to the cushion between your legs, kneeling on it as she leaned down, her hand moving to caress the flush of your cheeks. 

“I can’t stop thinking..” You paused, biting your lip slightly as you angled your hips towards the tense muscle of her thigh. You didn’t want to stain her in the sin of your gaze, knowing it was born from a stolen glance into her privacy, making you close your legs around her knee. 

The girl cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowing at your reaction. “About?” She prompted, her hand coming down to toy with the chain of your necklace, turning the golden cross in her fingers. The slight shake of your head made her click her tongue against her teeth, winding her fingers in the chain and yanking it towards her– cutting off your air as she bent down closer to your ear. “You wouldn’t deny me the chance to help you, would you?” Her tone was saccharine, practically dripping into your parted lips as you gave her a tiny nod, tears welling in your eyes. 

The chain loosened around your throat, making you gasp, chest heavy with big breaths as you peered up at her. “Can’t get the sight of you out of my head, Abby.” You confessed, a stray tear falling down your cheek. You were beyond ashamed of your reasons for needing her, seeing as it was caused by her, it seemed like some extremely cruel cycle of torture. “You–you’re so beautiful.” 

Abby felt her stomach twist, your words sinking into her heart as she looked up to God for help, the sentiment rolling into her cunt. She was long gone, there was no absolution for her now, hell called to her– and she was answering. She dropped onto her knees, peering up at you with hooded eyes. “Open, angel.” She instructed, using her now free hands to gently push your legs open– feeling the release of tension in your muscles as she did so. 

You sunk into the couch, her touch sending chills down your spine, a whine slipping from your lips. “I m-mean it.” You whispered, feeling her soft breath puffing against your inner thigh as she took the seeping wetness onto her tongue. It took every piece of restraint you had not to buck your hips towards her face, craving the feeling of her tongue. “Y’so beautiful, It makes me feel funny.” 

The girl groaned at the taste of you, hands navigating to the waistband of your panties– dragging them down effortlessly before tossing them over her shoulder. She was unstoppable at this point, your tiny mewls of need urging her to dip her head down and claim you as hers all over again but she resisted. Her hands moved to grip your hips, pulling you further down on the plush couch, now level with your cunt as it dripped arousal onto the ancient floral of her skirt. She took a deep breath, letting the divinity wash over her, before sinking down to lick a broad stripe over your cunt– taking her time as the rough pad of her tongue came to your clit. 

“A-abby..” You gasped, hands clenching the fabric of your skirt to contain your impulses, head falling back to rest against the cushion. The ache had spread, now sending goosebumps onto your velvety skin, nipples hardening at the sudden stimulation. “Oh, my God.” 

A snicker tempted her lips, but she muffled it as she used a hand to spread your sticky folds, tongue dipping down to trail over your puffy slit. Here you were, cunt out for her taking, still praying to God. Something inside of her longed to be your creator, your God. She wanted you to fall at her feet, kiss the ground she walked on, look at her like she hung the stars in the sky– but she would never admit that. It was blasphemous, as nobody could be God except the man himself, the last guy who tried got a worse sentence than hell. She would settle for being the sole source of your pleasure, I’d keep you running back to her, and that would work for now. She brought a hand up to swipe some slick from your soaked cunt, using her thumb to massage the swollen bud. “Manners.” She tutted as she brought her head up, just barely hovering over your heat. 

You panted slightly, the feeling just as overwhelming as you remembered it, screwing your eyes shut as you nodded. “M’sorry, ma’am.” You whimpered, not brave enough to look back to her as you felt her blowing icy air onto the sensitive bundle of nerves– your cunt clenching around nothing, making her chuckle darkly. 

She dipped her tongue back into the warmth of your folds, lapping up the messy arousal that had continued to seep from your slit– the muscle dipping in to press against your soft walls. It was so euphoric, the way you managed to get so wet for her, it was somewhat of an ego trip– if she was being honest. A moan slipped from her chest, the vibrations making you squeak in pleasure– hips shuddering away from her, as she dug her fingers into the soft skin, holding you in place. Of all the ways to be sinful, she thought this had to be the best one, squeezing her thighs together to control the pulsing your little noises sent through her. 

The sensation made you moan, a burning tension in your stomach as her fingers continued to work on your clit. You couldn’t help but chase the feeling, legs shuddering around her head as her tongue stuffed itself into your aching hole. “Oh, oh.” You breathed, eyes fluttering with the sheer force of the pleasure rolling over your body. You didn’t understand how something so simple could feel so good, the precision of her movements making your legs tense around her head– squeezing as you felt the tension grow harder to handle, hips bucking against her mouth. “Please, ma’am, please.” You begged, hand coming to grip her loose braid. 

Abby removed her tongue, more than satisfied with the reaction she was getting from you, moving her free hand to slip a single digit into your tight cunt. The walls instinctually clenching around it as she began to pump it in and out, curling it when she felt it come knuckle deep inside your heat. “You feel that, angel?” She asked, licking her lips. “Only I can make you feel like that, nobody else.” 

You nodded, tears springing in your eyes as her finger dug into the spongy spot in your cunt, your back arching off of the couch– borderline screams pulling from your mouth as you felt the burning course through your body, hips jerking as she continued to thrust– walking you through the familiar euphoria. “Oh God, Oh God.” You moaned through broken puffs of air, hands shaking from how tightly you were gripping, feeling your cunt release a gush of liquid onto her hand. 

“That’s right, angel, cry out to God.” Her voice was heavy, slowing her motions to a stop as she peered up at you from her place on her knees. “M’right here.” 

[postmortem-dca]

Huitzilopochtli, the god of war.

[Past] Eclipse. It is based on the god Huitzilopochtli, the god of war according to the Aztec religion. One of the most important gods for the Mexicas. For humans.

Eclipse, called War in this AU. He was Killcode's first son. The god of destruction.

→ ORIGIN

To explain the origin of War we have to go back thousands of years, when the first gods were looking for a way to create life on Earth. These gods had created humans several times, many wasted attempts that could only exist for a few hundred years if they were lucky.

The reason why humans died in such a short time was not because of a lack of food, or natural resources, or the sun.

It was a more worrying problem. Something the gods could not control. A withered storm.

The storm was located underground. It was practically a parasite that fed on life within the earth. Killing anything that was alive, plants, animals, humans. Everything was eventually devoured by the storm again and again, wiping out humanity again and again and again.

The gods were tired of every attempt by humanity ending up dying because of this storm, so they decided to find a way to destroy it. They failed multiple times to destroy this storm, making it stronger.

And while the gods were searching for a way to destroy the storm, War appeared one day. He never said where he came from. He simply said that he was meant to destroy the storm.

Thanks to him, the storm was destroyed shortly after its appearance, with the help of the other gods. War at this point had no purpose now. His goal had been successfully completed. But then, Sun proposed him to be part of them. Be a god like them. Participate in the creation of humanity.

And War really had nothing else to do with his existence. So he accepted, expanding the team with one more member.

Sun (Sunrise) Star (Lunar) Fauna (Earth) and War (Eclipse)

→ CREATION

How Star existed thanks to the first star that appeared in space, how Fauna existed thanks to the collision of two planets, War also has a how it was born.

War was born from the blood of Killcode, the supreme god of destruction. To the other gods, being a child of Killcode is disgusting, repulsive. An impure son, born of an impure god, of evil, of destruction, of darkness.

War never told them where he really came from. The others didn't insist either, they didn't need to know something so unnecessary. Even if they had suspicions from the first moment.

→ EXTRA

• War was one of the first gods to interact directly with humans. Humans had great respect for War, making sacrifices in honor of this god. They even created their own temple to be able to communicate with this god. War used to "help" humans when they were at war by protecting them to achieve victory as a sign of his gratitude. He was also "responsible" for the creation of Tenochtitlán.

• War can control snakes. No matter how dangerous, violent or venomous they are, War can control them physically and mentally like a puppeteer. Snakes will never attack War no matter if their lives are in danger. Even snakes feel safe around this god.

• War's body is made of pure blood which solidifies to form a body. When he suffers any damage he can recover faster than any other god.

• War has a weapon based on the macuahuitl. It is a wooden sword with ends made of obsidian. The feature that makes him unique is that his weapon is made with magic. Magic prevents the obsidian from breaking when he uses the weapon, making it virtually indestructible. This weapon was a gift to War from the other gods.

→ REFERENCES AND CONCEPTUAL ART

Representation of Huitzilopochtli according to the Aztec/Mexica religion.

Macuahuitl. The Aztec sword.

Questions are always welcome here.

[ninthcircleofprythian]

Stuck in the Middle with You

A Halloween modern AU Fic - Azris/Reader throuple

Warnings - sweet tasty fluff and a literal ton of sexual innuendo

Word Count - 1.8k

Author's Note - this contribution to @erisweekofficial did not come about without help. I would like to send my heartiest gratitude to my co-author @nocasdatsgay for not only giving me the idea and letting me run with it but also for her help with deliciously witty banter. Everyone say "Thanks nocas!"

Another big shout out to my main divider designer babe @tsunami-of-tears who kills it as always with her amazingly beautiful dividers.

ALSO - Gold Star 🌟 for the first person who DMs me and can tell me who Nessian and Feysand’s couples costumes were. 😉

“First off, let me just say that finding costumes for a throuple isn’t the easiest thing ever ok?” You fidgeted nervously, shifting your weight between your feet as you stood before your partners in the living room of your shared apartment. “But as soon as I saw it, I knew this was the one. So please try to keep an open mind, alright?”

Two sets of eyes met yours as you glanced between them. One set of hazel eyes regarded you curiously while the other set, deep golden amber, narrowed on you suspiciously. 

Here it was, two short days before the much anticipated Halloween party at Rita’s bar and grill and here you stood nervously clutching the bag in your hands. 

“Well,” Eris’ smooth tone drawled. “Let’s see it then.”

“Open. Mind. Eris, please,” you pleaded. His eyes remained narrowed and your fortitude faltered for a moment. Eris was the more rigid of the three of you. He could certainly be soft and dare you say even silly, within the comfort of his home with his beloved partners, however in public was something he was still mastering. Asking him to do so in a costume was another added layer outside his comfort zone. 

Slowly, you pulled the garments from the bag and draped them over the couch cushions for inspection. Just as you turned back to face your jury, Az let out a breathy chuckle, eyes alight with amusement. Before either of them could say anything, a loud crack of a laugh rang from the open kitchen.

“Ha! Oh, that’s genius. I can’t wait to see it!” Cassian cackled from atop his barstool at the counter.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Eris sneered.

It wasn’t exactly part of the plan to have an audience during this reveal, but it was your turn to host the weekly family dinner and your trip back from the store had left you short on time before your guests began arriving. And wherever food was involved, Cas was always early. Shooting Cassian a withering glare, you turned back to your partners, softening your gaze.

The mirth in Azriel’s eyes danced brighter. “I’m the chocolate,” he claimed. His lips quirked up at the corners in a sly smile as he reached forward to snatch up the costume. Without wasting another second he slipped the printed tunic over his head and pulled it straight.

“How is it that you get first pick? What if I wanted that one?” Eris grimaced, eyes scanning over the length of Az’s body. 

“You couldn’t be the chocolate anyway,” Az chuckled. “It would clash with your hair. Besides, this goes better with my skin tone.” Stretching his arms out wide in an exaggerated pose he showed off those rippling arms. Deep toned skin glistened deliciously even under the harsh lighting of the living room. 

Cassian gave an appreciative hum of agreement from his perch on the barstool just as Nesta strolled in the front door and leaned up against the counter next to him. Her gray eyes scanned the room assessing before quipping, “Eris should be the marshmallow.”

Eris whipped his head towards her, burnished hair swinging wildly as he did. “I swear if you are about to insinuate it's because I’m soft – I will leave right now.”

Reaching a hand out slowly, Az landed his palm on Eris’ shoulder. All the while biting at his lips to keep himself from laughing. Cassian wasn’t nearly as successful in hiding it as he buried his face behind Nesta’s shoulder and let loose a strangled noise. 

You ignored them both, grabbing Eris by the elbows gently as you stepped closer to him. “Eris, please. It’s one night. It’s a costume party, we won’t be the only ones looking silly. I just want to have a couple’s costume like everyone else.”

You hadn’t planned on a guilt tripping plea, but in reality, you really did want this badly. Those amber irises swept up to your gaze once more before softening from their hard glare. Uncrossing his arms, he sighed. “Fine. I’ll be the marshmallow.” 

He didn’t smile as he agreed. His face remained held in that pinched manner as he leaned forward to grab his puffy costume, but he had agreed. And that’s all you had hoped for. 

“Oh, thank you!” You held the squeal in your throat at bay as you peppered his freckled cheek with kisses. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!”

Scrambling your arms into the last choice and pulling it straight, you watched with rapt attention as Eris’ shock of red hair poked through the top of his rounded tunic and he settled his arms at his sides peering down at the toasted marshmallow costume.

“Very fitting,” Cassian quipped with a smirk. “Crispy on the outside, gooey on the inside.” He dissolved into more barely contained laughter. Even Nesta’s frosty veneer cracked at the joke.

“Don’t say it like that,” Eris grumbled.

“Burns your tongue but the payoff is worth it,” Azriel piped up with a smirk of his own and a gentle pat to Eris’ backside. 

“Please. I’m begging you. Stop.” A flush of pink crept up his cheeks.

“At least you guys get to be something fun,” you stated as you peered at the rather bland tunic. “Graham crackers aren’t even that good without the toppings.”

“So – you are saying you like to be topped then?” Az tossed out with a smile.

“I thought that was obvious.” Eris proclaimed, this time a smile of his own graced his stately features. 

It was your turn to flush. “Ok. I don’t like this game anymore,” you bantered as you slipped off the tunic and folded it back into the bag. Eris quickly followed suit, eager to be rid of the ridiculous thing. Everyone began milling about, claiming their seats for the impending dinner.

“Wait!” Az pleaded. “No one has even mentioned how I melt in your mouth yet!”

“More like melt in your hand but – sure. Whatever,” you flashed him a devilish grin as you shoved the coffee table out of the way.

“Hey! It. Was. One. Time.” Az countered loudly.

Cassian sidled up beside him with a chummy pat on the back as he snuck in to claim the seat next to him. “That’s all it takes, brother.” 

This time the whole room broke into giggles, Nesta’s being the loudest. 

The party at Rita’s was still going strong even as the wee hours of the morning were approaching. Even though you were nearly dead on your feet from dancing the night away, you were having the time of your life. But those feet still needed a break.

“I need to sit for a little bit,” you half shouted over the music to Az, who was gripping your waist tightly as he shimmied against you. A quick nod of acknowledgement and his large hand slipped easily to the small of your back and he guided you off the dance floor through the crowd. 

Your group of  friends had claimed a table along the furthest wall, far enough away to be able to hold a decent conversation without shouting while still being in sight of all the action. The majority of your group was gathered around the small table, sitting or standing. Rhys and Lucien approached from the direction of the bar, drinks in hand. As you stepped close, Eris’ arm slipped around your waist as his other hand smoothly offered you a beverage.

“Having fun?” Eris silkily crooned in your ear as he pulled you close.

Swallowing the large gulps of ice cold water you replied with a laugh, “So much fun!” Trailing your free hand along his collar, you pulled at the ribbon now hanging there and palmed the lightweight medal that was attached. “I still can’t believe we won,” you beamed.

“They created a category just for us as a threesome, love,” he grinned slyly as he kissed your cheek. “We won by default.”

“A win is a win!” Az exclaimed from behind Eris, pulling you both into his muscled arms. 

“Hear, hear!” Cassian cheered. With his perfectly slicked hair and pinstripe suit, he really did cut a dashing figure. Nesta’s back leaned against his front, both of them sported similar medals. The long black wig that Nes was sporting made her gray eyes even more enchanting and the tight black dress hugging her curves left little to the imagination. “It’s all thanks to you mia cara,” Cas said with a feline grin as he ravished Nesta’s neck with kisses. 

“I knew I should have picked something more people would know,” Elain pouted from her seat at the table. Lucien quickly swooped her into his arms and deposited her squarely into his lap. “No pouting, Princess. I think you make a fine Buttercup. It’s not your fault there are so many uncultured heathens around here.”

Elain let out a squealing giggle as Lucien’s fingers danced up her sides. “You’re right,” she stated firmly. “And you certainly make a devilishly handsome Wesley. I think you should keep the mustache.” Lucien’s eyebrows raised as his eyes gleamed with delight and he nipped at Elain’s ear, eliciting another squeal. 

“At least there weren’t multiples of you guys,” Feyre whined in jest as she swung out an arm to showcase the room around them. “I figured the hype from the movie would have died down by now.” Nearly every other blonde in the bar had their hair teased to perfection and sported some shade of shocking pink, feet adorned with sky high stilettos. 

“There’s always next year, darling,” Rhys cooed as he tugged her closer.

Plopping into the chair you pulled from the table, you groaned as you kicked off your own high heels. Eris quickly joined you, sliding a chair in front of yours and sliding his hand along your smooth leg, raising it to land in his lap.

“I don’t know why you insisted on wearing those,” he frowned as his warm hands squeezed deliciously along your arch. “It’s not like graham crackers are known for their footwear.”

You chose to ignore that jab as you moaned at the soreness being massaged from your sole. “Mmmm, keep doing that,” you insisted as you brought your other leg up to his lap. 

“Anything for you, my treat.” Eris smiled softly at you as his hands worked their magic on your feet.

“Oh Eris, you really are gooey on the inside,” you cooed with a giggle as you poked a toe at his costume. 

His whiskey glazed eyes sparkled with mirth. “I’ll show you gooey on the inside,” he retorted loudly enough to be heard over the thumping bass of the room. Unfortunately also loud enough for the whole group to hear as well. 

Your eyes shot open with shock and delight at his joke, a laugh caught in your throat. Az’s bark of a laugh cracked through the shock as everyone else’s ringing laughter joined in the merriment.

“Wait – that’s not –,” Eris stammered as the pink color flushed at his cheeks. “I don’t like this game.”

@mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @chairofchaos @pit-and-the-pen

@prythianpages @c-starstuff-man0

[glassrowboat]

Dottore x Reader x Diluc poto AU

Summary: The Angel of Music's lair awaits you as painted gold arms move to welcome you in, the creak of their gears barely registering in your ears over your voice as his hand fits comfortably in yours, guiding you along. Further, further, and further into his world of unending night.

Warnings: Dottore, sexual content, smut, oral, cunnilignus, masturbating, altering of POTO canon, not proof read but Risse is tired

Word Count: 5k

The lights had been blinding as always when you had stood high on the stage, filling the air with a burning heat that licked at your skin. Sweat had dripped down your back, but there was no searing ache in your muscles from performing as your legs held you up for the painted gold faces of statues to see you in all your glory without even a speck of powder on pointed toes. For there were no silk ribbons fastened around your ankles to be seen by an effigies eyes. Your feet weren't even peeling a new layer of skin. There was only a dull hum in your throat and an ever beating heart from frayed nerves at having all those eyes on you.

On you alone.

For the stage had claimed you not as a ballet dancer who twirled with each long string of a bow, but as the star all lights were pointed to.

Just like the ones covered in glitter and gems you had pulled out of your hair a moment ago and laid to rest on the vanity you were sitting before. Your own reflection staring back at you as your fingers dance over the red petals of a rose. A gift from your Angel of Music.

You could almost hear the vibrato in his voice as well wishes fell from the lips that have taught you so well. Surely, he would be dawning a smirk, prideful as he is.

You plucked a petal, withered at the end with a dull brown that curls in on itself, and let it fall onto the floor of this overbearingly pink room; from the wallpaper to the endless bouquets surrounding you in a fog of perfume. All unaccompanied by a glass bottle to spray a charming mist into the air with a squeeze of an atomizer bulb, yet it smothered you nonetheless.

But in your hands, still perfectly polished from when your makeup had been done before the show, was black. A ribbon unlike the twisted and worn ones of your pointe shoes twisting around your finger, hypnotizing you with its delicate touch.

You didn't even notice the knob of the painted door keeping you apart from the bustling crew you would normally be shrugging through in an attempt to go change out of your costume twisting.

Not until a voice called out, one without the austere lit to it you had heard between dark stones aglow by the flicker of candles as you prayed for your father. That bright red of a rose, its scent still plaguing you, was replaced with locks of embering hair and memories of salt in the air as a violin played; waves lapping at the shore a background to the sweet melody.

“A little girl let her mind wander. The little girl thought, ‘Am I fonder of dolls, or of goblins, or of shoes.”

A poem you had learned in your tender years now sparking at the core of your memory again.

“Diluc?”

Your eyes fell on him, taking in the black coat hugging a frame that had now grown out of the lanky one you had known well from days of cuddling up together in a dusty attic on an old blanket, and white tie so pure it could be mistaken for the snow that is sure to come with the change of seasons already starting to creep in through the walls of the opera house with a chilling touch.

Almost like hands made of ice were ready to wrap around your throat.

But Diluc's were warm as he kneeled before you, hand reaching out to rest on your shoulder only to pull it back like he shouldn't have dared to be so familiar with you despite the moments you both shared. “Or of riddles or of frocks..or of chocolates.”

The flutter of your heart still stirred from the stage, twisting and turning as you looked up at him.

He was different from the boy you once knew, but he still held traces of himself from the memories you replayed in your head on an endless loop in between chatter with the other chorus girls and, dare you admit, even in the face of a blue glow that could never melt into shadows the same way the rest of your phantom did.

“Should I refer to you as Vicomte now?” You asked, remembering how the new managers had introduced him during rehearsal.

“Please, don't call me that.” The flickering light of the candle moved along Diluc's shoulders as they slumped. “It makes me uncomfortable. And there's no need.”

Not between us, is what he didn't say.

“Diluc it is, then.”

“And you, should I call you the star of tonight's show?” Diluc asked, head tilting slightly when your eyes met with his. “You did amazing up there.”

“Oh I see, so I'm not worthy of the title a prima donna yet? But no.” you shook your head, a smile quirking your lips up at his genuine praise. He had always been so quick to listen to your quiet lullabies in awe once upon a time, and that same unabashed reverence has turned back to you again.

He really did remember you despite not recognizing you- not seeing you- when he was first introduced to the troupe as a new benefactor of the theater.

“There's no need for that.” You assured him.

“Then if there's no need for titles between us, how about we share a meal. One in celebration of your wonderful performance and to meeting again?”

Your fingers tightened around the stem in your hands the moment he asked, wrangling it into something new, something misshapen. All between knuckles that were slowly turning white with each passing second. “No.”

“I'm sorry is”- Diluc’s hand drew back further, continuously pulling away the warmth he had to offer- “something wrong?”

And the stirring in your heart seemed to quell the further Diluc got.

“It's not- well..you remember what my father said, right, Diluc? That when he was in heaven he would send the Angel of Music to me.” With a sucked in breath you got out the words: “well father is dead, and I have been visited.”

“Oh, there's no doubt of it.”

The sentence echoed one that had once been whispered between you on a windy day, almost bringing you further back in time than just his mere presence brought you. To memories of dark stories and a scarf trying to fly off with the breeze and swim along the waters being returned to you as he wrapped it around your neck as you promised one day you would stand on the stage waiting for your voice to be heard by everyone and by him.

How far you've come.

The both of you.

But…

“And the Angel of Music is very strict.” You reminded yourself. The you that had become intimate with the shivers racking your spine simply at the thought of displeasing him currently running over you.

Breath falling short.

“I don't intend to keep you for long.”

“I know, it's just-”

And then he asked you to please play along, to indulge him on this even as the hole drilling itself in your stomach grew and grew. To the point eating anything in the first place sounded sickening, but you smiled at that same baby face Diluc couldn't seem to grow out of even after all these years and dared to agree.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as he walked to the door, pushed it out of the way with one last call of “You must change. Something you can actually walk around in, preferably. In the meantime, I'll order my carriage.” And a promise you won't regret joining him as that pink door closed.

Painted lilies staring back at you as gooseflesh awoke on your skin.

A lock silently clicked in place without you even noticing.

Then, a voice seemed to blare over the room, blowing out the candles around you one by one. From the vanity your red rose laid upon to the one next to the dressing screen you had only just been behind to change (trying to discard the heavy costume you had worn on stage), hands occupied with fixing the tie to your robe. Darkness took over, leaving you in the music of the night.

“He's insolent, my muse. Just a boy who hasn't even fostered the voice you now yield, but there he was sharing in my triumph.”

The sneer you could hear in his voice was recognizable and well known after all the times other ‘young suitors’ as he liked to call them dared to cross an invisible line he drew. One you still couldn't tell if it was etched in the grains of sand or hammered into concrete, but either way, daring to pass, it was as risky as a gambler asking for Aphrodite’s kiss.

“He didn't mean any harm.”

“I would say trying to step in the way of your spotlight for a chance to greet you is pernicious at best.”

Like the panes of a window leaving shadows along the floor where the sun casts its rays.

“Look, I'm sorry. I wanted to tell him no.”

“But your soul was weak, I take it?” He asked with the same snark you've grown accustomed to from him. At this point it was almost a comfort after hearing him make remarks about the inability of the crew, Carlotta, and the new managers who had just taken over all while a stained glass image of a god you bowed your head to watched over you.

A holy gaze keeping you safe as prayers for your father whispered on your lips and a flame sparked as you lit a candle in his name, but in here it was only you and a fog slowly creeping in.

Dottore always was one for dramatics.

“Forgive me, teacher.” You said at last.

A hum filled your ears, just as the fog rose higher and higher, blocking out the endless bouquets that had been filling the room more than the gaudy furniture could even dare to try.

He spoke of Diluc basking in your glory, but here he was doing the same with your trepidation.

All you could do was wait for the other shoe to fall, or-

“Only this once, my muse.”

Or to have a hand held out to take yours. Black gloves and golden claws shattering the illusion you were semi alone in this room as the mirror fell away for Dottore to pull you inside. Arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close as a melody filled your ears; blocking out the sound of Diluc rattling the doorknob to check on you as panic swells in his chest.

“I am your Angel of Music.” Dottore said as he cast a sidelong glance towards the door, his hold on you tightening. “Come to your Angel of Music.”

With a crescendo, everything else fell away.

All with that same fog following you, drowning everything else out. Leaving the world above the murky depths you were pulled into distorted by refraction. Blocking out the last words you could have sworn went something along the lines of: “Who is in there with you?”

You couldn't even register the concern lacing each word, not when all your nerves were set alight. Yet the raucous beating of your heart, a drum that has long since been used and abused, finally soothed as Dottore pulled you along.

“Come now, and sing once again with me our strange duet.”

A haze passed by all at once with golden arms clicking as gears in need of a good oiling moved, fingers intertwining with your own, and the splash of water as a rowboat that looked as fickle as glass dipped under your weight when you climbed in.

All with the assurance “I have you” as you were flooded by the Phantom’s song.

His voice echoed off the walls dripping with a moisture you would rather not think about, slipping between the cracks and over dewy cobwebs with a raw texture. The talent of a man who taught himself all he knew in the silence between the shows put on in the light as his shadow cast across the stones down below.

Dottore had once likened it to a hollow building, one falling apart at the seams all thanks to its unsteady foundation, but you? You, the very thing that inspired his song, had come in and filled that shell of a home with comfort. Blankets over the windows to keep the cold air out, rugs padding over the hard floor, and a place to rest; one without the worry of rats creeping their way into our home.

Dottore never explained why he called it “our home.”

Not even as his masked face turned towards you and you were left questioning if that black and white porcelain could hold an expression of fondness.

“Surely you know how to get out of a boat yourself.” Dottore teased, even as he helped pull you out with one last unsteady lurch and splash of water under your feet. Droplets tickling your ankles.

“Apparently not.”

“Don't tell me I have another thing I need to teach you.” Dottore raised a brow, or maybe both, you really couldn't tell.

“Would it matter if you did?” You teased.

“I suppose not. We can stay down here, together.” Dottore whispered with his hand ghosting along your cheek. Cold to the touch. “And abandon the garish light of day all while I teach you something new. All in this kingdom of music..”

A kingdom with only one subject, the king: Dottore himself.

“I'm not just going to purge my thoughts of the life I knew before,” danced on your tongue, wanting to escape from the confines you only tightened the hold of. Chaining it to a wall to be forgotten and discarded.

For his eyes could both threaten and adore; you already knew which would be easier to handle. And you were too exhausted to try weasel your way out of this mess you had stumbled in again, anyway.

“Softly, deftly music shall caress you. Hear it, feel it secretly possess you.” As he sang in your ear, lips and the touch of his mask grazing your skin, Dottore's hand fell from your cheek. Roamed as it pleased. Traced over your collarbones only to go lower, lower, and lower. The golden claws he's wearing toy with your robe, reflecting back your own thinly pressed lips in their radiance. “Open up your mind, my muse. Let me in. Let yourself belong to me.”

“…I”

You took too long to respond.

That was apparent in the way his hand drew back. A stove hot to the touch to tender flesh. Leaving him wounded.

“You need rest. It's been a long night for you.”

“Right…I'm not even that tired though.” Not when your eyes had a place to scour over. To soak in all the rugs placed over the mildew-claimed floors, the lights buzzing with electricity that somehow worked all the way down here, and a well loved piano sitting atop it all.

“You will be. Just give it time.”

All while that same fog that has been chasing you both filled your vision.

You didn't even get the chance to ask Dottore what he meant by that as you fell into his arms. Eyes rolling back as you were greeted by the darkest dreams a mind could imagine.

“Took longer than I thought it would. I'll need to change the percentages in the concoction then. My fault for not testing the drug when it's airborne.”

Muttering to himself Dottore carried you to his bed and placed you down. Tongue clicking as he looked at you slowly being swallowed up but the mattress he had spent countless restless nights tossing and turning in. “Can't you see? Only you alone can make my music take flight…but that boy…”

Hands that were still burnt from your earlier refusal pulled a blanket up and over your shoulders; shaking unsteadily. They might as well have actually been burnt under a flame, set alight, for they twitched like embers were ingrained into his skin as Dottore lingered near you.

Silently watching.

“Once he's gone you can help me make the music of the night. But for now, simply rest well.”

Pressing a kiss to your forehead, Dottore left in favor of his piano, desperate for something to take the swirling storm in his head out on.

It was better that way.

It gave Dottore something to focus on that wasn't his cock straining against his pants as he set the sheets of an unfinished piece before him. Notes daring to be written on the yellowed paper, crinkled and worn after all times he's dug it out only to store it away again without adding a single drop of ink. His pen always did hang in the air, threatening to add something as Dottore busied himself with tapping at the keys; feather covered back turned to you as he tried to work.

Crude, Dottore thought as he huffed at just how wrong it all sounded to his self-taught ear.

It was the tapping that eventually stirred you, forcing your eyes to crack open only to be greeted by the sight of a metal bird staring down at you rather than the mask you had come to expect. Its head tilted to the side. Blue eyes glowing in the dark.

You didn't even get the chance to mutter a confused hello before it flew off with a squawk. Soaring. Long, almost vial-like tail flowing after it.

“What the…”

Grumbling, you pushed the blankets covering you away. Feet padding on the floor as you followed after its flapping wings.

Without your Angel by your side this place seemed different. Hollow, almost. Lonely, like a burnt out candle waiting to bring fire to this world again as it fails to shine. To the point you were glad to follow the song that never seemed to stop playing in your head all the way to a hunched figure.

Without turning back to look at you Dottore said: “I see you're awake. How are you doing, my muse?”

“Like I entered a fever dream.” Which would explain this labyrinth where the daylight dissolves into darkness. All except a faint glow leaving his skin an unearthly hue. “You see the bird too, right?”

Another tap of the keys laid out in front of him rang before Dottore spoke again.

“I do.”

“At least I'm not going crazy then.”

The feathers of his jacket greeted you first, brushing along your arms as they wrapped around him. Would the bird feel the same or would it lack Dottore's warmth you clung to? Would it feel as stiff as he froze under you like deer under the glow of a blinding light.

Funny, for a man who would take a life with as little emotion as a carriage running over a fawn's carcass.

“If you were going crazy I would be sure to tell you.” Dottore strangled out. Voice so tight you couldn't help but check you weren't accidentally pulling on that strap he wore around his throat (for some reason or another), but you weren't even so much as touching it.

“How thoughtful.”

“It's less being thoughtful and more the thought you of going”- his hand pulled away from the keys to gesture at something you couldn't see- “crazed might affect how you choose to sing. Though, it might add an interesting candor as you bear your heart and voice to the opera house.”

“And to its crowd.” You teased, eyes peeking up at him, at the mask he wore, from the feathered mantle you were snuggled up against.

You were so tempted to reach out and graze your fingers over the material, to feel the cold sting grace your skin before pulling it away to reveal what lay underneath. May it be a man or a monster your curiosity begged to know. Pleading into your ear. Only for you to remember the last time you tried as he sucked in an unsteady breath. How he pushed you away, raised a hand that never fell to your cheek as you crawled farther and farther away from him until your back hit a wall behind you.

He shook then just as Dottore is now.

“Yes, them too.”

So your hand didn't dare to try again. Instead it fell to the keyboard to tap over a note or two, fiddling with it to keep your mind off the need to pull away from him- to flee- that gnawed at you. After all, if this truly was a kingdom then what subject could truly run away without repercussions?

The monarch himself picked up the pen beside him, pinched it between those pointed claws, and the notes you had just played were written down on the piece of paper laid out before him.

“Are you writing a new piece?” You asked.

“I'm attempting to. Unfortunately, I am rather distracted.”

Ignoring the way his jaw jutted your way accusingly you continued to tap at the keys. And he continued to write each note down until he told you to sit beside him

“I don't think there's enough room on that bench you're using, Angel.”

His hands were on your waist in a second, the pen clattering as it dropped while Dottore pulled you on his lap. “I said: sit down.”

You barely noticed him picking the pen back up from the ground with his fingers playing with the laces of your corset; brushing over them all the way down to the messy bow you had tied together. At the time your hands had been shaking as the excitement to be on stage had rushed through you, but now your own jittery effort was undone by one single pull of the wirey cord.

Dottore’s touch burned, even through his gloves.

“So..a new piece?” You asked.

“Yes, but I was..admittedly struggling with composing it; on my own, that is. It would be a great help to me if you played another note.” The laces were tugged at again. “Or two. Or three.”

Even as the garment fell off you, only held up by your own hands, it felt harder to breathe than before. “I wouldn't mind, really, but was this necessary?”

Dottore's eyes flicked down between you, scalding you with the red fire inside of them that seemed to only be held back by a single barrier of glass, begging to shatter under the stress. “I was undoing it to keep the corset from pressing on your diaphragm. I don't need your voice distorted.”

It was only a moment later Dottore tacked on “That's all” even as he leaned in closer to you, hand trailing up your back just as softly as the air from his lips was gracing yours. Only an inch apart. Getting closer, closer, and closer to the point you could see deformities in the mask.

Then his head fell to your neck.

“You'll help me f-” Dottore cut himself off, shutting his own trail of thought down. “For my music, won't you, my muse?”

Your hand met the piano, trying to play another note even as his hand dropped from your back and you fell against the keys. The chord cluster had your fingers curling around the white tiles; the damned bird squawked with a jump, only causing your grip to tighten at the shrill sound.

“I'm the one who interrupted your focus, so..” You cleared your throat. “Yes, teacher.”

Dottore replied back with an excellent, already clearly hard at work again as his pen moved, writing the notes you accidentally slammed down on. Black ink trailing off with every flick of his wrist as Dottore's hand slid up to where yours was keeping the corset up and pressed his thumb right over your diaphragm; fingers tickling your ribcage.

“Try to sing a note.”

Without a second to doubt his reasons you obeyed, and Dottore nodded in thought.

“Excellent, just like that. Now, remind me, I don't think we've practiced singing while enduring rough activity, have we?” He asked, head tilting ever so slightly to the side as his eyes flicked over your form on top of him.

“No.” You got out even through the discomfort pressing at your chest.

“Then it's time to change that. Don't you agree?”

“It would be a waste to turn down an opportunity to learn, right? That's what you always say.” At this point you could probably parrot the exact cadence Dottore uses as he repeats those exact words, voice controlled, a lit to it you knew belonged to a man who enjoyed having eyes on him as he made a spectacle of how smart he was, all while teaching you. Usually, Dottore would posture, flick his cape when it gets in his way - not pull you from his lap and place you down on the piano behind you.

Another slam of the keys.

You shifted, trying to get comfortable in your new found place as you tried to figure out why you thought something had been poking at your thigh the entire time Dottore had been holding you close. Had you sit with him on the stool clattering to the floor in Dottore's rush to push it away and kneel before you.

You had half a mind to comment how gross that had to be with these floors, but you were cut off by Dottore himself. “Have I ever told you nighttime has a way of heightening and sharpening each sensation?”

“Here and there.” You nodded. “But what does this have to do with your composition?”

The music sheet (one missing a title) was now cast aside, pen keeping it in place from any stray breeze hoping to pick it up and force it to fall along with the stool. Abandoned by its own creator without mercy for his hands had left it to play with the hem of your skirts; pushing them up and along your legs.

“Oh that's quite simple, but it seems my muse can't figure it out on her own.” Dottore clicked his tongue with a harsh tch. “Sometimes I swear you need everything spelled out for you.”

Ripples ran along your thigh as the cool metal of Dottore's claws graced your skin, from your hip to your ankle as he dragged your undergarments down. “I'll simply draw the notes out of you. You can just lay back and feel it all, savor each sensation.”

“Angel-”

“Oh, and-” Dottore's eyes raised from the sight of your skirts now bunched around your waist, pushed out of the way for his convenience. All to place a single kiss on your thigh that you nearly jerked away from. Only held in place due to the grip he had on you; mercilessly keeping you still even as a heat crept over your cheeks. “And make sure to use your voice.”

Your leg was hooked over his shoulder, the feathers from before taunting you as they brushed against your skin. Were you supposed to grab them or his hair? Were you supposed to yank him back and ask what this was about or let him keep leaning in closer?

The puff of air breathed out on your core answered before you could decide for yourself. And you were suddenly grateful you were sitting on the piano instead of trying to keep yourself up, afloat, as sharp teeth nibbled at your skin leaving your knees feeling weak even after all the years of ballet lessons that strengthened them. Hours of holding poses, perfecting them until you were given a nod of approval from Madame Giry, all suddenly for naught.

“I-I don't think this is very appropriate.”

“You said you'd help me.”

“Well, granted, I did, but-”

His tongue slid along your folds, tasting the very essence you exude. A long strip, a long drag of his tongue on you, and you were a goner.

A single moan ripped through your throat had Dottore's hand reaching down, fumbling with the buttons on his pants (far too many for his liking right now) to push them aside as he tasted you again, again, and again. Only pulling back long enough- giving you a chance to recover- to whisper against your folds “Don't think about anything besides me, my muse. Just me. Let me inside your mind.”

The keys pressed down, playing a soft melody every time your hips bucked up to chase after his touch; desperately trying to drag out more and more of the pleasure building in you. It was a raging fire flooding your soul, a need Dottore returned a hundredfold with a hand wrapping around his cock. Fucking it imagining it was you under him instead- bodies intertwining.

A minor, D minor, and E minor played on the piano, only drowned out by the sound of your cries and the wet sounds between your legs.

A strange duet that was wholefully one of your and Dottore's making.

His thumb brushed over the head of Dottore’s cock, smearing pre into his gloves as Dottore's tongue ravaged you with every bit of lust he'd tampered down over the years. Finally he was able to let it drain into you. Each moment of grazed hands, stolen glances and close calls coming to fruition as his tongue lapped at you.

Using you as a faucet to his molten need that never failed to be stoked, coals sparking with a fire burning alight, by your voice.

“That's it, give in to me. Give in to what I do to you.” Dottore barely managed to mutter between his own groans and hatred to be parted from you for a single second.

Your hand tugged at his hair, the questions you asked yourself long since tossed aside with the flame burning in your core, begging to be eased.

To be satiated.

You barely caught sight of the mechanical bird watching as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, the image of Dottore kneeling before you, head between your thighs as he stroked himself reflected back in its metal beak; warped image capturing the moment you came as the Opera Ghost himself made you sing.

You were too dazed to make out the notes you were playing anymore, only the fact they were turning in your head like a music box that never failed to draw you in as Dottore's head fell against your thigh. Slick coating his face (and parts of his mask), leaving it with a sheen he licked off as his hand moved. Hips stuttering up into the hole he made with a moan.

He called your name as he came, white sticky fluid splashing over the ground.

Blood red eyes staring up at you the entire time.

Speech seemed to turn into silence, words failing you, just out of reach of your outstretched hand desperately hoping to grasp onto anything to say in this moment. But all you could think about was how your blood was still racing.

Even when he had raised from the floor, ran a hand along your cheek, and finally kissed you you still had no clue what to say. Not even as your Angel whispered “Finally. You are so beautiful when you sing, my muse, to the point I couldn't smother your voice even when I longed to kiss you.”

Pulling you in his arms, Dottore held you close, hand running up and down your back, passing over the open laces of your corset.

“Don't you see? This is the music of the night.”

For you alone can make his song take flight.

Funny, how even wrapped up in his embrace, the heat of your release painting your thigh, you still felt cold.

And you longed for another to hold you tight.