#also so sorry for letting this sit abandoned in my inbox for so long.... the horrors etc

[theriverbeyond]

Thinking about Ianthe, rejecting her arm, "cries at night", gave herself the last name Naberius, and now we find out that Babs was basically her brother- she won't cop to murdering him in cold blood, she won't say why she wouldn't have killed Corona. They say they don't care about him, but they're saying it so loud and if they really didn't care why would she tell Palamedes so insistently as she gives a performance on stage in her mind palace? Her entire life is performance! She removed Harrow's horrible, life-ruining grief through gross lyctoral flesh magic and then Harrow removes her arm that won't work through gross lyctoral bone magic! Anyway all of this to say that Ianthe does care about Naberius a lot, actually, she'll just never admit to it. The horrors of love!

I AGREE 100%!!!

Ianthe says she doesn't regret killing Babs and she SAYS she doesn't feel any grief but she is also, always, playing nth dimension chess. she would never admit to it but you can't live with someone for so long and be so entangled for your whole lives and then not be affected when they die, much less when you KILL them. not even mentioning how Naberius' soul is bleeding out onto hers now. Ianthe is being impacted not only by HER unwilling grief but also Naberius' own. JUICY!!!

[crystalflygeo]

two long dragon tongues down your throat is better than one <3

So I was going to answer this like a normal ask just fangirling and screaming yes but then it kinda reminded me of this abandoned wip I had sitting in my docs and IT WAS TOO GOOD TO LET IT PASS.

So sorry this sat on my inbox so long csvajckwxbhaj I promise I am not ignoring :c <3 work is just killing me and also this got out of hand HAHA WHAT A SURPRISE

it was written before 4.2 dropped (maybe before 4.1 even I can't recall) so there are some little things here and there that are technically not canon anymore//hit

Neuvillette is absolutely fascinated.

The chief Justice of Fontaine has lived for many many years, seen, learned and experienced a lot of what the world has to offer, at least within the confines of his beloved hydro nation. Always a diligent man, carrying out his role and job at the court to perfection. Yet there was something he’d always… disregard.

Some more basic instincts pertaining to his true draconic nature.

He’d had enough in his plate as it was, practically managing the nation, keeping lady Furina both entertained and out of trouble, taking care of the Melusine, and a myriad of other duties in between. Truth be told, he was a tired old dragon not having much time or interest in the pursuit of a romantic companion.

So how did he end up here? Having a sample of the most sacred and valuable treasure of another dragon. Their mate.

Neuvillette is mesmerized at how your body reacts, jerking and trembling in unadulterated pleasure. Entranced a how your lips part with labored puffs and cute little sounds he didn’t know humans were capable of. High pitched whines, long drawn-out moans. Hypnotized by your eyes, usually so alert, so smart and playful… now glazed over, clouded with euphoria yet so raw and sincere in their emotions, begging him not to stop.  

And your scent… oh, the most decadent sinful scent he’d ever sensed. His pupils dilating and turning back to slits as his stare focused on your drooling pussy. His mouth dry, his fangs aching. He wanted to drown all of his senses in you.

Darkened fingers slide across your folds, a little colder than normal for a human which is why he’d always wore gloves, but you mewl appreciatively and gladly accept them. Clenching warm and wet around the digits.

And his breath catches.

“Hmmm… you’re doing so well, baobei.”

The Iudex’s eyes flicker momentarily at the other man, or should he say, other dragon. The former Geo Archon Morax, quite literally a mythical figure exuding an aura of power far greater than his current own. He is older, wiser, stronger, a deity once involved in the likes of the Archon war and the Cataclysm. In this little… exchange, Morax is certainly the dominant dragon, simply letting Neuvillette please you.

Morax holds you close to his chest, purring contently in a display of affection towards you and confidence towards the other male, as if he needed not to worry about another taking what is his. Neuvillette knows if he were to even remotely try something funny, he’d likely face the infamous wrath of the rock. Under normal circumstances, he’d find it a little insulting to be treated like this. If he had his full authority…

But these are far from normal circumstances.

And he’s currently rather… ah… enchanted by you.

“Curl your fingers towards you and pump slowly… she likes that.” Morax explains, voice deep and rich like syrup. His hands roam your shoulders and chest, massaging softly at your exposed skin while he plants kisses at your neck, occasionally nibbling of a few past marks from his own fangs.

Neuvillette does as said, experimentally, and is rewarded by a sultry moan and a buck of your hips towards him when you feel those fingers wiggle and rub at a spot deep inside you.

“Oh? Got it on your first try Chief Justice, why you may be a natural.” Morax chuckles.

The younger dragon appreciates the praise underneath the teasing lilt.

“Now, you may use your thumb to rub at that little pearl, it’s just begging for attention.” Your mate nuzzles against your cheek, his own thumbs rolling over your perked nipples. “Slowly, careful… she is very sensitive.” He adds with amusement.

He does so again, the pad of his cool finger brushing over your puffy little nub, the spark of pleasure is immediate and you toss your head back and squeal.

“Please please please…” You gasp out, breath shuddering, body trembling.

Tears gather at your eyes and roll down your cheeks, it’s so much it feels so good.

The younger dragon stops and blinks at you, his demeanor shifting suddenly. His hands slip over your thighs to you hips, as if trying to cradle you, hold you closer.

Morax’s eyes narrow if only a bit, curious but wary of Neuvillette’s sudden… protectiveness over you.

“You’re crying… have I hurt you? Are you ok?” He asks softly, attention solely on you.

Your heart could melt at that, who knew the ever serious and imposing Iudex could be so gentle? He truly reminds you of your mate sometimes.

You nod, catching your breath a moment. “I-I’m good. Feels good.” You mumble, cheeks heating up with the confession. Your body already lays bare and presented for him, in it’s most vulnerable. But to open up your feelings too… “People… cry when they’re happy too, you know?”

He seems to consider it for a moment, you can practically se the cogs turning in his head, it’s rather endearing, his brow twitches the same way Morax’s does when he’s pensive, perhaps it’s a dragon thing? “I have observed that before, yes, but why-”

“Emotions are powerful. When y-you feel… so much… you need a let out. Be it angry, sad, even happy… our tears leak out, like emotions overflowing.” You smile and shift a little, hiding your face towards the crook of your mate’s neck. “Weren’t you the one who said waters carry emotions?” You nuzzle there and Morax responds accordingly, his hands once again massaging and roaming your body, knowing you’re still pent up and the sudden stop was probably a little frustrating.

Golden fingers slide over your folds and sink in carefully, thumb circling your clit once more and you whimper. “That’s it, my love… I want you to feel good. We want you to enjoy, isn’t that right?”

Neuvillette straightens up a little to meet Morax’s gaze. Not challenging (not yet) but there is something.    

“Indeed.” He leans in to nuzzle at the other side of your neck, the soft skin there unmarked. Morax tenses his hold on you, a slight growl coming out from deep within his chest.

“Careful Chief Justice. Remember our agreement.”

“Of course. No kisses, no marks, no claiming. No strings attached.” His lavender eyes a dark purple now as he follows the soft slope of your jaw. “I wouldn’t dare break a contract with the deity that presides over them.” He chuckles. “I just want to test…”

Or rather taste. His draconic tongue laps up softly at your tears, his hands tease your nipples as if trying to get more reactions out of you and you whine, arching towards him as Morax’s hand keeps working at your core.

It’s so… intense. They are both so clear about their desires, slow and reverent, kind in their methods, but so assured in their dominance that they will get what they want.

And oh, to be desired by two dragons truly is something…

“Interesting…” He mumbles pulling back. “So sweet.”

Morax nips at your mating mark then and tilts your head to press your lips together, your mouth happily parts for him and you let out a muffled moan as that long split tongue slides down your throat. Your feet kick and your fingers claw at whatever is closer.

Half-lidded golden eyes stare down at you with satisfaction, blown with lust. A third finger sinking in on your sweet pussy, faster, your juices gushing obscenely around them.

That tongue teases and chokes you and more tears come out of your glazed eyes, eagerly caught by another one. Bodies pressed together, hands roaming, Morax’s tail curled around your ankle keeping you open, Neuvillette’s swaying after him with excitement, cool fingers pinching your nipples, massaging your breasts…

“Mmphff…!” You squeak, high pitched and tense as the pleasure tips you over the edge and your body locks up in a delicious powerful orgasm. You sob and whimper as they work you through it. Shuddering. You see stars. Can’t think only feel.   

Once it settles Morax pulls back and you melt against him, chest heaving, legs weak, muscles aching just a little, they continue to pamper you with affection and attention.

Your mate’s fingers retreat with an embarrassingly wet noise and much to your further mortification he brings them up to his face and that sinful slip tongue once again comes out this time to lick them clean.

Neuvillette stares transfixed.

You groan quietly, it’s obvious what he wants…

Morax on his part only lets out a short laugh, possessive instincts seemingly more at ease now. “Oh? Want to have a taste too? I can assure you will not be disappointed.”

Archons, the way those sharp eyes shift to you.

“O-okay…” Your voice is barely a whisper. “P-please be gentle though I j-just…”

Your breath catches in anticipation as Neuvillette’s hands rest on your inner thighs.

And then your dear mate pulls you back into a kiss.

[real-total-drama-takes]

Important! PLEASE READ!

Hi everyone!

So, it’s been a while. There’s been a lot of people asking where I’ve been/if I’m okay/when I’ll update the blog again. I’m sorry I left you guys in the dark! My personal life has been crazy busy and I couldn’t find the time to sit down and type up an explanation. I wanted to be thorough, but more than that, I wanted to be accurate about what the future of this blog looks like. So, without further ado, here’s the long awaited update post.

This blog is going to be taking a hiatus. I love the total drama fandom with my whole heart and soul, but there are also a lot of weirdos who turn up in my ask box. It only takes one look at TD reddit and all of the homophobic/transphobic/racist content on there to know what I’m talking about. Not to mention— things got WAY worse with the td2023 season 2 drop. In short, it’s exhausting to deal with. When I first started this blog, it was significantly easier for me to manage the toxicity, but now I work in a position where dealing with bigotry is sort of an important part of my job. It’s become way too draining on me. At least— for the time being.

This hiatus is NOT permanent, and I will come back to tumblr some day. I don’t want to set a specific time frame for fear that just won’t be feasible, but I won’t be gone forever. I’ve seen so much love from this fandom, so I could never abandon it. So many people have sent me well wishes over the past few months, and it has genuinely made me emotional at times. I love you guys so much.

Okay. The last thing I want to say is this. I am going to post the backlog of asks currently sitting in my inbox, so this blog will continue to update. The ask box will be closed, but replies are on for all my posts, so there can be continued conversation. This post will take the place of my current pinned post until I decide to come back to tumblr.

Thank you guys SO much. I am so grateful for (almost) all of you. I love you 🩷

EDIT: I am SO sorry for worrying everyone by not posting for a while. I should’ve hopped on to let everyone know I was at least okay way sooner. I am okay, I’m not dead, and I am really sorry for causing concern.

[runariya]

Hey! A oneshot about junkook

Emojis: 🥸🥂🦢💎

Sentence: Under the starry sky, on a quiet rooftop, he gently pulls Y/N closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Dance with me?” he whispers. With the soft hum of distant music, they sway in sync, their eyes locked, saying everything without a word.

Is it too much to ask?

(yandere+party+dance+mafia) part of the prompt game pairing: mafia heir!Jungkook x f!reader genre: mafia!AU, idrk tbh... warnings: yandere-ish, psychological games, knife, murder word count: 1.475

a/n: First off, I'm deeply sorry for taking ages to get back to you...this ask has been sitting in my inbox for two weeks or so 🥺 and also, I'm sorry too that I turned your sentence into a whole scene; I just couldn't manage the themes any other way...I hope you're still enjoying it tho...

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The city shines beneath you, raw and electric, its pulse resonating deep in the soles of your feet as you stand on the rooftop of Jungkook’s club—darkness unfurling in every direction like a ravenous beast that devours all that dares exist within its reach. Below you, the night roars with a dissonance of fragmented voices, music, and chaos, but up here, the world recedes into a distant rumble, a barely perceptible murmur as you breathe in the cool air under a starlit sky that stretches endlessly. There is a peculiar intimacy in this place, a stillness held together only by the rhythm of your own heartbeat, a world that feels exclusively yours and his.

And him—Jungkook—stands in the darkness, the faint amber glow of distant city lights slicing across his features, casting him into an aura more menacing than the whispered legends. They speak of him as a mafia heir, a heartbreaker, a killer—the very embodiment of temptation and danger. You have heard every tale, repeated them to yourself until the fear wrapped in desire became a sickening thrill. Now, he watches you, his black eyes smouldering under the muted light, filled with an inscrutable intensity that makes your skin crawl in ways both unsettling and exhilarating.

He is the one who chose this place for your meeting, away from the searing heat and relentless beat of his club—a sanctuary where bodies press together in abandon, where souls dissolve into music, each moment crafted for excess and oblivion. You recall earlier, being immersed in that turbulent whirlwind of sound and colour, every motion deliberate yet devoid of meaning. You observed him from across the room, a dark figure amid the frenzy, solitary despite the throngs eager for his attention.

But now, it is just the two of you. You feel his breath carried by the wind that coils around you, sense his gaze tracing your form with a predatory warmth concealed beneath his dangerously alluring charm. From the moment you met him, you recognised his peril—danger that insinuates itself into your veins before you realise, too late, the gravity of your mistake. Each encounter, each step forward has been a testament to a decision you should never have made but did anyways.

Your hands instinctively curl at your sides, the smooth edge of the knife pressed reassuringly against your thigh like a talisman since the day you learned about his obsession for you. The rooftop remains silent, you have played this game for so long, you’re not even sure how not let silence reign. Every glance, every word a strategic move in a game of masks and deceptions, with an ending that has always seemed inevitable.

“Dance with me?” he whispers, his voice low and seemingly tender, the sort of sound that could be mistaken for affection. But you know better. You understand the truth hidden beneath the softness, the destruction in every action and breath of Jungkook’s.

And so you nod, almost laughable how easily you surrender to this illusion of tenderness, letting him draw you close, his strong arms encircling your waist, his warmth and magnificent scent enveloping you. The rooftop feels smaller, the world compressed to the space between you as you begin to sway, a slow, gentle rhythm where neither of you leads. The stars blink down, your hearts the sole soundtrack to this moment.

His touch is deceptively mellow, his fingers grazing your back like a lover’s caress. You tilt your head up, locking gazes with him, and there’s something there—something that makes you reconsider everything you’re here for. His eyes are dark and fathomless, promising both violence and sweetness, and you briefly wonder what he truly sees when he looks at you.

For a moment, you let yourself dissolve into the intimacy, shedding the burden of your own deceit. There’s a part of you—a hidden, secret part—that has yearned for this, craved this proximity. It is almost twisted, how much you have longed for the danger he embodies, how you have relished the thrill of being so near to something so perilously lethal.

But soon enough, reality intrudes. The cold, harsh truth shaking your thoughts, reminding you why you are here and what you must do. You have followed him for months, shadowing his every move, orchestrating moments, manipulating events to draw close enough. And now you stand here, wrapped in his embrace, your body pressed against his, the perfect moment within grasp.

“Why do you trust me?” you ask softly, your voice dripping with naive sweetness. He smiles, but it’s a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, a smile that conceals secrets you will never fully uncover.

“I don’t,” he replies simply, as if the answer were self-evident. His hand tightens slightly on your waist, just enough to remind you of the power he wields, the danger embedded in every movement of his. “But perhaps I like living on the edge.”

A silence stretches between you as you gaze in each other eyes, and you know this is the moment. Your hand moves almost instinctively, retrieving the blade from its concealed place at your side, the cool metal catching the light as you prepare to strike.

But Jungkook is quicker. His grip on you tightens abruptly, his hand darting up to seize your wrist with a vice-like strength he’s known for. The look in his eyes shifts, a flash of dark, knowing intent before his lips curl into a dangerous smile.

“So it’s you,” he murmurs, his voice a low purr that ought to terrify you, yet instead makes your heart flutter. “I’ve been wondering.”

Your head spins, adrenaline surging as you attempt to pull free, but his hold remains firm. You feel the expanse of his strength, the taut muscles flexing beneath his shirt, the effortless power he commands. Yet you suppress your fear, focusing on your purpose, remembering why you are here.

“You’re not as clever as you think,” you hiss, your voice sharper than intended, tinged with desperation. “I’ve been watching you, following you. I know everything.”

He laughs softly, a rich, chilling sound that courses through you as he leans forward to brush his lips against your temple. “Do you, though? Because if you did, you wouldn’t be standing here now.”

For a fleeting moment, doubt creeps in, your resolve wavering in the face of his calm confidence. He is too composed, too collected, and it unnerves you. But then you remind yourself—this is merely another layer of his game, another manipulation. He seeks to destabilise you, you claim you like a possession, and finally to make you doubt yourself. But you refuse to let him.

With a sudden burst of effort, you wrench your wrist free, the blade pointed, ready, as you aim for his throat. But Jungkook is faster—always faster. His hand shoots up, seizing your arm with a force that sends a sharp pain through your limb, and before you can react, he twists the knife from your grasp, sending it clattering to the rooftop floor.

Breathless, heart pounding, you refuse to back down. You lunge at him, but he effortlessly restrains you, pulling you close once more. A smirk curls on his lips, dark satisfaction in his eyes, and it fuels your anger.

“You’re too reckless,” he murmurs, his voice a low, hot hum against your ear. “Too emotional.”

But you no longer listen. Your mind races, your body trembles with adrenaline, and you know this is your only chance. You must end this—now—before he ends you.

In a sudden, desperate move, you twist in his grasp, reaching for the knife on the ground. You feel the cool handle beneath your fingers and, in one distressed move, drive it upwards towards his chest.

Time seems to slow. You feel the resistance as the blade penetrates flesh, hear the sharp intake of breath as Jungkook’s body tenses. His eyes widen slightly, a fleeting surprise crossing his features before it morphs into something darker, almost… satisfied.

Then he is falling, his grip loosening as he collapses to the ground. You rise, standing over him, breathing heavily, staring down as the gravity of your actions begins to settle in.

Jungkook lies there, blood pooling beneath him, his eyes still fixed on yours. There is no fear, no anger—just an almost amused resignation.

“Guess you win,” he rasps, his voice barely a whisper. “But… was it worth it?”

You remain silent, unable to answer, because for the first time, you’re unsure.

The rooftop is quiet now, the city below still murmuring its distant song, but up here, everything feels still. The stars blink down, as indifferent as ever, and you finally realise that the danger, the thrill, the chase—it was never really about him. It was about you.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

please can I request soft/ fluff HCs with Peter quill? it’s sinful how little fics there are of him, so had to ask you :) 💕 preferably female but GN is fine too

hii! omg yess that’s so true, there is literally no fics of him! I have searched for so long to find some quill fics but often come up empty, so if anyone has recs, please please send them my way (I need them and him) ive never wrote for quill so hope these are accurate. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

headcanons/ imagines

peter quill x f reader

warnings || none

a/n || I may have done this first, sorry to all the others in my inbox, this was something fun to do and hopefully it might kick me into writing again

masterlist + rules

taglist

- it’s a given, but you guys talk about music ALL the time, it’s definitely a very important part of your relationship. maybe you share new songs with him from different decades, but you definitely prefer his music and he loves that you love his music

- he has an abundance of funky, fun and cool graphic tees, he loves to share them with you and probably prefers them on you

- he definitely fell first

- he loves to make you laugh, constantly cracking jokes. doesn’t even need to try and you’d just be laughing or smiling at him. his favourite laughs of yours are when you snort or cackle at his unintentional jokes

- it makes him feel special that you pay attention to the little things he says and when you react earnestly to them

- even though he LOVES the other guardians, he definitely prefers one on one time with you and loves to have you all to himself. he also loves your attention, and he definitely craves time with you

- he has major abandonment issues, so he doesn’t like you leaving his side. you’d be like his lucky rock, or a special penny that he always needs near. you are incredibly special to quill and he is often terrified that he’ll lose you too

- he craves validation, especially from you

- he is a lot smarter than he gives himself credit for. he’s definitely learnt tonnes from rocket over the years

- if he ever has to do a mission separately from you (would take a lot of persuasion and reassurance first) but he always brings back some special for you, something tailored and important to you, something that holds significance

- he’s incredibly sentimental, again not always showing it. he feels safe with the other guardians, but even more so with you. he doesn’t often like talking about his mother (he finds it too difficult) it took a lot of time, but he eventually shared that part of his life with you, and he was glad he did because your reaction was exactly what he needed

- an amazing hugger, he’s super comforting and safe. he has a very homely vibe and instantly makes you feel at ease

- you two have a very fun and easygoing relationship, it’s light and airy, but serious and passionate when it needs to be. a very sincere and genuine dynamic

- he taught you how to speak groot, he’s a great teacher but it took some getting used to

- he likes when you sit on his lap when he steers the ship, even though it’s not technically safe, he loves having you near when he is in the captain's seat (or just on his lap in the seat in general)

- but if need be, your seat is behind him, so it’s not too far away

- he loves teaching you things, he wanted to be the one to teach you about the ship and its buttons and controls

- I had this idea: that you take him to earth (he might not be too fond of the idea at first) but you surprise him with concert tickets so you both could see a band he loves. he’d never stop talking about it, and he’d keep the ticket stubs pinned up so he could look at them all the time

- he would do ANYTHING for you, he goes love blind (may have gotten himself hurt a couple of times to protect you)

- you both invented a special code/ encryption so you can talk to each other over comms. if he is on the other side of the ship (maybe tinkering) he’ll send you a secret message to let you know he’s thinking of you

- you guys don’t really argue (that’s not a bad thing either) if you have a disagreement it’s usually very light, and unserious, he’d probably accidentally make you laugh during it and then everything goes back to normal

- but if you ever do get into an argument, he can be quite stubborn

- he is a man-child (but the best kind!!) he can be immature and cocky but he’s always lighthearted. he’s just a fun-loving goof

- he loves when you call him starlord (but you don’t say it too often, so it doesn’t lose its meaning)

- you helped him process his grief, especially after yondu. once he felt comfortable talking about him again, he’d tell you all of these stories about him growing up

- he no longer drinks to forget, he now prefers a social drink after a mission with the crew instead. he doesn’t feel the need to drink himself silly now that he has you

- the guardians think you’re a great addition to the team and love that you make quill so happy

- you and peter share stories of earth with the others, sometimes you’d bend the truth and say wacky absurd things to joke around with them, but that being said it often flies over their heads, especially drax and mantis

- you two are definitely best friends as well as a couple, the perfect balance of friendship and romance, which is what makes the connection so special

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

hello hello! can i request a clancy grey x masc!reader oneshot based on the song ‘two birds’ by regina spektor? maybe where y/n and clancy were at east river together but clancy abandoned y/n when the camp got raided and y/n was taken to thurmond, and then they reunite when the camp gets shut down?

Two Birds // Clancy Gray

request: featured above

prompts: none

summary: you were just beginning to fall in love with clancy when he betrayed you and hundreds of other kids. a year later you see him again, and he asks you to join him. will you forgive him for everything that he’s done?

warnings: language, mentions of weapons, mind control, clancy being an asshole, not proofread

word count: 1.4k

a/n: hi!!! this is my first fic in a long time, so i hope it’s not too bad! and im so sorry i didn’t respond to your request sooner, i didn’t see it in my inbox until today!! i really hope you like it though!! :)) also i kinda mixed parts of the book and the movie in this, cause i couldn’t decide which one to base the fic off of! and i wrote this as gn!reader instead of masc!reader, so i hope that’s ok!

Two birds on a wire

One tries to fly away

And the other watches him close from that wire

He says he wants to as well

But he is a liar

It was another magical night at East River. Sure, it might not have been perfect, but anything would seem magical after the two years you spent in Caledonia. You were sitting next to Clancy on a log in front of the campfire, listening to a young Yellow tell the story of when she first discovered her abilities. You tried to pay attention, but it was late and after a long day of working you could feel your eyes slowly drift closed. You felt an arm around you, and immediately jolted awake, before relaxing when you realized it was just Clancy pulling you over to rest your head on his shoulder. 

You relaxed once more, and felt yourself beginning to drift off, the voice of the yellow and Clancy’s warmth lulling you to sleep. Just as you were about to drift off, you heard it. The steady thrum of helicopters nearing East River. You woke up immediately, looking to the sky to see three helicopters flying directly overhead. Before you could even stand up, trucks began driving in through the entrances. You were surrounded. 

I'll believe it all

There's nothing I won't understand

I'll believe it all

I won't let go of your hand

“Clancy, what’s happening?” you asked, panic rising in your voice. 

But he didn’t say anything. Instead he stood up, beginning to walk over towards where the helicopters were lowering their ladders. 

“Clancy?” you asked once more. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, turning to look at you, before continuing to his destination. 

You felt your entire body run cold. He knew about this. He planned this. East River was just a set up. Your so-called “paradise” had turned out to be a trap all along. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t even move, it felt like your entire world had just fallen apart. How could he do this to everyone? How could he do this to you?  

Two birds on a wire

One says "C'mon" and the other says "I'm tired"

The sky is overcast and I'm sorry

One more or one less

Nobody's worried

You barely even registered the figures climbing down the ladders until you saw the flames begin to spread. So this had been his plan all along. Give up the location of East River to get the PSFs to come, and to bring Reds along with them. You sat there and watched in horror as the place you had come to call home went up in flames. Cabins burned and children screamed all around you. But you still couldn’t move. 

You were betrayed. You were heartbroken. All you could think about was how stupid you had been. Why would Clancy ever love you? Sure you were both Oranges, but you had no idea how to use your abilities. He had tried to teach you how to use them, but it had been fruitless. About two months in you told him that it was pointless. He had assured you that it didn’t matter if you couldn’t use them, but you knew better. He saw himself as better than you, as better than everyone at East River. Maybe things would’ve been different if you could figure out your abilities. Or maybe he’s just too narcissistic to care about anyone else but himself. 

Before you could even react, a pair of arms grabbed you harshly and zip tied your hands together, dragging you away from where you had been sitting. Slowly you registered the movement and realized what was happening. You were getting taken back to a camp. And judging by the fact of having already escaped a camp once, you were going to end up somewhere way worse than Caledonia. 

I'll believe it all

There's nothing I won't understand

I'll believe it all

I won't let go of your hand

It had almost been a year since you were taken to Thurmond. Almost a year since the guy you thought you love betrayed you and hundreds of other kids, all sent to camps or worse. 

In that year, you had changed. You couldn’t remember the last time you had smiled. Hell, you haven’t even spoken a single word since you got here. You were a shell of who you used to be. Filled with nothing but anger and pain. 

You were standing at a table lacing up boots, when you heard commotion growing outside. There was screaming and gunshots. You braced yourself for the Calm Control, but it never came. Before anyone could turn it on, the power shorted out. The door to the warehouse you were in burst open, and an army of kids stood on the other side. With none other than Clancy Gray standing front and center.

Two birds of a feather

Say that they're always gonna stay together

But one's never going to let go of that wire

He says that he will

But he's just a liar

You felt yourself freeze, you hadn’t seen Clancy since that night. He looked like he hadn’t changed at all, but there was a certain age to him. His eyes were heavier, and he looked worn down. But still as angry as ever. 

“Drop your weapons!” he shouted out. 

Every single PSF in the room dropped their guns, their eyes growing milky at his words. 

“Leave!” Clancy spoke once more.

The guards began walking, filling out the door and walking straight out of the gates of the camp. You looked around, seeing the shocked faces on all of the Greens standing around you. You had to pretend to be one of them to avoid getting killed.

“Today’s your lucky day! I’m recruiting you. No more rotting away in a prison. Join my army and fight back against all of the people that ever hurt you. We’re not staying silent anymore. Who’s with me?” 

Everyone around you practically erupted into cheers. Relief and excitement filling their faces. But you knew better. You couldn’t trust Clancy. Not again. Not after what happened last time. But things were different this time, it turns out that a year alone in your head was all you needed to master your abilities. 

And so you yelled your first word in almost a year.

“No!”

Everyone around you fell silent. 

Two birds on a wire

One tries to fly away and the other

Watches him close from that wire

He says he wants to as well, but he is a liar

“Y/n L/n,” Clancy said as he walked towards you. “God it’s been what, a year now? I’ve been looking for you. You’d make a great addition to my army. Even though you can’t use your abilities, you can still hold a gun. Right?”

You ignored his jabs at you. “You’re controlling them, aren’t you? Why else would they be following you?”

“Ouch, so harsh. But if you must know, yes I am. How else are they supposed to keep fighting no matter what?”

“That’s fucked up Clancy. Can’t you see that?”

“So maybe it is. What are you going to do about it?”

“This,” you smirked. Looking at the kids standing behind Clancy you shouted, “Wake up!”

Instantly his control over them disappeared, hundreds of the kids collapsed from exhaustion, and a bunch of others started to run away. Clancy’s face fell as the realization finally hit him. You were an actual threat now. 

“Impressive. Too bad you couldn’t figure that out a year ago. Why don’t you join me? We’ll lead side by side, getting rid of everyone in our way.”

“There is no way in hell that I am ever working with you,” you said, glaring at him. 

“Fine, have it your way.”

Clancy stared at you, his eyes turning Orange. You felt him beginning to prod at your mind. But you stayed strong, fighting him off and keeping him out. Clancy’s smug face faltered as he kept trying to enter your mind. 

“What the-?”

“Guess I learned a lot more than you thought, huh?” you gloated.

You were about to walk away to help the sick and injured kids behind Clancy when you had an idea. You reached out and touched his hand. 

“You don’t remember anything. And you don’t know how to use your abilities.”

Clancy’s eyes turned milky as he repeated the words you told him.

“I don’t remember anything. I don’t know how to use my abilities.”

“Leave.”

You pulled your hand back, but Clancy’s eyes didn’t turn back to normal. He turned around and began walking, out of Thurmond and into the forest.  

Two birds on a wire

One tries to fly away and the other

[katanashipping]

I know this a leosagi blog but your ask box wasn’t open on your other blog so I am asking here if that’s fine. I looked through your blogs so I don’t think you said but what’s your favorite iteration of raph?

I am sorry I left this sitting in my inbox for so long!

I haven't seen all versions of TMNT that are out there by far, but in general, I prefer versions where Raph is kind and funny, or grows to be kind and funny. His bond with his brothers is the most important to me (as, tbh, with all of the turtles).

Also, I tend to prefer versions that have been out a long time, mostly because when I was younger I had a lot more time to rewatch and reconsider the same media over and over again, and interact with fandom and analysis, whereas these days I just don't have as much time, so I suppose my view is somewhat more reductive of newer iterations of the TMNT in general?

On the other hand, I have rewatched parts of 2k3 pretty much once a year for like 17 years... so I have Thoughts about those boys.

Anyway, out of the versions I have seen and remember, this is my tier list from favorite to least favorite:

2k3 (the all time champion)

Rise (a surprisingly interesting and different version)

2k7 movie (Nightstalker! a childhood fave)

Mutant Mayhem (wish he wasn't so overtly mean)

Batman vs TMNT (I don't remember him much from that movie tbh)

Bayverse (never again)

I have not watched very much of the 87 show (maybe six episodes total, and the Turtles Forever movie), but I think 87 Raph is hilarious and very sweet, so he would be somewhere around Rise for me.

Overall, I prefer Batman vs TMNT to Mutant Mayhem, but MM Raph had a bit more growth, which I liked.

I dislike pretty much everything I remember about the first two Bayverse turtle films though.

I also watched the first season of 2k12 when it came out, but it wasn't really for me, so I didn't include that Raph here because I don't remember him much. I liked how sweet he was with his pet turtle, though. <3

Some reasons that 2k3 is my top tier:

clear progression/growth from S1 to S4 in which Raph works out his anger issues; in later seasons, he is basically all snark and no bite with his brothers and I love to see it

his family grow alongside him and later on, when he needs to blow off steam for half an hour, they let him go without comment and respect his space

I love the special little bond he has with Mikey <3

not to mention the special little bond he has with Casey <3 talk about soulmates 🏍️

I wanted to propose a drinking game where you take a shot every time Raph pushes one of his brothers out of harm's way in a fight or risky scenario, but I abandoned the idea because I like not having alcohol poisoning lol (I think just in Return of Savanti pt 1, which is one of the most recent we rewatched, he does it three or four times???)

not afraid to speak his mind, but also not afraid to change his mind if he's wrong

he's so cute with kids! I headcanon that he and Tyler are still in touch in future and Raph has a special kind of pride in Tyler's progress. ("did you know Tyler got an A on the test? did you know Tyler learned judo? did you know Tyler was accepted into NYU?")

also, the entire episode with Mrs Morris is just <3

cries when emotional (relatable)

has no luck with bugs 🐞

where did he get that accent? don't worry about it!

Gremlin Laugh (tm)

Anyway, that's me! What's your favourite iteration of the boy?

[starrysnowdrop]

A little (actually quite long sorry) Hali question, if I may?

Clearly Hali and Aymeric had to overcome some obstacles, both before they became a couple and afterwards - not least finding time for each other whilst fulfilling their respective commitments to the world at large.

However, I was wondering specifically about what cultural differences they encountered when getting to know one another?

Presumably Hali's experience and view of the world was coloured by her upbringing in the academic environs of Sharlayan? A place fizzing with new and often contradictory ideas, with little in the way of active religious practice or tradition (beyond evoking Thaliak as an abstract icon of intellectual enquiry). A rather practically-minded society, with little time for feasting or grand balls or pageants. Also a place with great material wealth - but no apparent underclass or peasantry? Also one that lacked a military and refused to be drawn into wars or conflicts, no matter how ostensibly noble the cause.

Conversely, Aymeric grew up in an extremely rigid and highly religious society, where new ideas where not only unwelcome, but considered dangerous. A society with highly visible and seemingly insurmountable social barriers of class and wealth, from the wealthiest of nobles to the poorest orphan in The Brume. And one that had been completely defined by war for over a thousand years.

How did these contrasts impact their developing relationship (if they did)? Presumably Hali had already gained a broader perspective on the world from her adventures in the rest of Eorzea? And Aymeric was active in trying to change Ishgardian society. But were there things that initially confused them about each other? Perhaps the assumptions they had about how things should be done? Or the importance of social traditions or propriety? Did Hali ever question things that Aymeric took for granted? Or did Aymeric ever struggle to keep up with Hali's curiosity and dynamism?

Were there positives to such differences? Perhaps ones that enabled them to consider things from perspectives that might otherwise have been closed off to them?

First of all, I apologize for taking so long with answering this particular ask! I had it sitting in my inbox and I just now got back to seeing it! But I do want to say that this is a wonderful question as always @mimble-sparklepudding and I had fun thinking about this and answering it!! 🥰 Okay, let’s get to the answer, shall we?

~**~

Yes, Sharlayan and Ishgard are night and day when you are comparing the two cultures side by side. So you would expect that two individuals from each of these cultures would have nothing in common and would not see eye to eye. Perhaps in most cases, that would be a correct assumption. However, Hali is not your typical Sharlayan, and Aymeric is not your typical Ishgardian.

For Hali, she actually was always interested in Ishgard, as it was the only other society which had a vaunted interest in Astrology, and that sparked Hali’s curiosity about Ishgard as a whole. She had studied Ishgardian history, society, and cultural traditions while she worked on her Studium thesis, but of course her understanding was purely academic, and from a Sharlayan perspective, so she didn’t truly know anything until she arrived in Coerthas and experienced it firsthand. Also, she was fascinated with how different Ishgard was to everything she thought about how a society functions, but she truly didn’t understand how much those differences impacted people on an individual level until she arrived in Ishgard itself.

For Aymeric, he only vaguely knew about Sharlayan, mostly from the ruins of the Sharlayan colony in the Dravanian Hinterlands. He knew that they valued knowledge above all else, and were pacifist to a fault, having abandoned their entire colony instead of staying in Eorzea and fighting the Garlean Empire. In a similar fashion as Hali, he knew it on paper, but he just couldn’t wrap his head around it until he met Hali, and they began to discuss their respective backgrounds.

What they soon realized about each other is that they were not so different after all. Though they come from vastly different backgrounds, they held the same values, and they believed that both Sharlayan and Ishgard could learn from each other in order to make the lives of their people better. Hali learned that Aymeric didn’t have the position of power that he does by birth, and he had rose to his position by his deeds, while Aymeric learned that Hali did not think herself as superior to others because of her knowledge, or magical abilities, or anything else. They both were like fish out of water in their respective homelands because they believed that they could learn from others of different cultures. To both of them, they were a breath of fresh air, and that made them highly intrigued with each other. So in fact, their relationship developed because of their differences, not in spite of them.

I think that’s about it! Once again, thank you so much Mimble for such an excellent question!! 🥰💖

[gojuo]

it’s so odd of people to keep arguing that aemond did something wrong by claiming vhagar. at first it was “he stole a dragon”, then they learned that you can’t steal a dragon and it became “rhaena should’ve gotten the first try” when NO… just because her mother was one of vhagar’s riders doesn’t mean she was entitled to her, and had to try to claim her first.

i don’t think aemond had a suicide wish, meaning that he was ready to die if it doesn’t work out, but i also don’t think he would’ve been fine with just any dragon when he was already abandoned by his own targaryen dad and was bullied on top of it. he had to try vhagar and it worked and that’s it. i’m sending you this bcs i find myself liking your takes the most and was wondering what you thought of this whole situation… would you say aemond was morally wrong or whatever

First of all thank you so much for the compliment and flattering words and second of all I am literally so sorry for taking like 2 months to answer this oh my god I’m genuinely so sorry for ghosting you. I don’t know what the fuck happened and why I just let this sit in my inbox for months and I’m genuinely truly really sorry for making you wait so long … Really, I’m sorry.

Showrunners changed the scene from Jace, Luke and Joffrey attacking Aemond to Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena doing it. Why? Well mostly because they aged Joffrey down, and probably to give Baela and Rhaena something to do outside of being Rhaenyra’s cheerleaders who do nothing all season long but be her props. Like sidenote, but I still cannot believe that after everything, the Velaryons would side with her faction… I mean outside of that absentee deadbeat good-for-nothing who has literally never interacted with them on-screen being their father, Baela and Rhaena have always been more Rhaenys’ and Laena’s children than Daemon’s. Like the fucking DRAMA it would bring to the story if both Baela and Rhaena were actually against Rhaenyra, if Baela was against being betrothed to Jace and her rightful inheritance of Driftmark being usurped being a point of contention for the Velaryon family/Team Black overall. Or if it was Baela that was ok with becoming the future Queen of Westeros as Jace’s wife but it was Rhaena that was against everything, against becoming Lady Consort of Driftmark instead of Lady of Driftmark in her own right because, you know, she’s being forced into marrying Luke, essentially being usurped of her and her sister's inheritance. Or if Rhaena held Daemon in contempt for always ignoring her because she has no dragon and therefore no worth in his eyes or for forcing her into a marriage with a boy everyone knows is a bastard whose mother is usurping her and her sister’s (and their mother’s) rightful inheritance because of said marriage……. But nooooooooo we gotta have Baela and Rhaena do nothing but smile in the background bc Team Black has zero in-fighting at all everyone is just of the same fucking mind and gets along aaaaaall the time I guess……………..

Okay anyways sorry for the sidequest lets get back to the topic at hand… They put Baela and Rhaena in that scene to make it look like Aemond claiming “their mother’s dragon” was an issue or something. The writers put 3 things in that confrontation as to make it look like Aemond was in the wrong for claiming Vhagar:

The outrageous claim of being able to “steal” a dragon (that’s literally impossible; you cannot steal a rider-less dragon).

The other outrageous claim that dragons are somehow passed on from parent to child as if a dragon is an heirloom or something.

Putting Baela and Rhaena in this one specific scene which they actually had NO business being in because they are Vhagar’s ex-rider’s daughters.

If I remember correctly, Daemon, Baela and Rhaena were on Driftmark/Dragonstone for a whole month in preparation for Laena’s funeral. Aemond came to Driftmark for only 2 or so days… Rhaena had all the time in the world to claim any free dragon she wanted with the help of her father... And then she didn’t….. How is that Aemond’s fault exactly? She had the chance and she didn’t take it. That’s on her, not on anyone else (except maybe her father since he apparently disliked that she hadn’t claimed one yet but I digress).

Then the audacity of the writers to insinuate that dragons can be inherited by the ex-rider’s children??? The fuck????? Before Laena, Vhagar was Baelon Targaryen’s dragon. Baelon is Laena’s mother’s uncle … but he is also Aemond’s grandfather... So tell me again who had the “right” to claim her first by that logic? Then before Baelon, Vhagar was Visenya’s AKA Baelon’s great-grandfather’s sister. Caraxes for example was Aemon’s dragon before Daemon claimed him, who is his uncle. Meleys was Alyssa’s dragon, who is Rhaenys’ aunt not mother, etc. etc. The one and only instance we have in ASOIAF where a dragon is claimed by the ex-rider’s child is Balerion with Aegon & Maegor. And even then it wasn’t that Maegor got Balerion because he was Aegon’s son, it was Maegor claiming Balerion because he just wanted him and Maegor specifically waited for Aegon to die so that Balerion was free to be claimed. So these dumb lines of “She was mine to claim,” and “Stole my mother’s dragon,” need to go to Hell and I will never take anyone who takes that shit seriously… seriously. You cannot steal a rider-less dragon by claiming it, that is just outright not canon.

Dragons are also not family-heirlooms meant to be passed down onto children, that is also just not canon. End of discussion, really. The only reason they put the girls plus those dumb lines in the scene is because they needed Aemond to look as if he did something wrong, because Aemond did literally nothing wrong by claiming Vhagar. In the book Jace, Luke and Joffrey jumped him for no reason, and in the show Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena also jump him for no reason. 3v1 and 4v1 and we’re supposed to think Aemond was an instigator or something? Rhaena took a swing first then Aemond pushed her aside to protect himself. Then Baela punched him in the face FIRST then Aemond punched her back. Aemond instigated and started NOTHING and he was the only victim in that scene. The gall of the writers to make it look like Baela and Rhaena had the right to be mad or that Jace and Luke were justified in ambushing him and permanently maiming and disabling him because one Targaryen prince claimed a free-to-claim dragon is INSAAAANEEEEE and I hate that they took away Viserys mocking Aemond for not having a dragon yet which is what lead him to claiming Vhagar to begin with.

None of those children had any right to be mad at Aemond for anything and the writers knew that so they just had to put the children who had just lost their mother into that scene in order to make it seem as if what had happened had some ambiguity to it instead of what it actually was: Aemond as the victim and Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena as the crystal-clear transgressors.

[pkmn-nextgenadventures]

🌌 MILKY WAY + 🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL = Nancy

sorry I left this sitting in my inbox for over a month oopsie

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people?

That she actually feels incredibly lonely and isolated a lot of the time. She has her Pokémon for company, but she's not at all good with people and it takes her a long time to even trust anyone, let alone warm up to them - not to mention her line of work makes personal relationships tricky. She's also aware that she's a Faller and often feels like an alien who doesn't always fit into this world, as much as she's made it her home.

The only people who Nancy feels really understand her are Looker and Anabel, for obvious reasons. She's also close with Emma, looking up to her as an older sister, and by extension gets along with Calem and the kids too. She'll be civil with other people, but usually keeps them at a distance even if she cares about them. Whatever is going on between her and Ivan is in some ways an experiment in trying to be less closed-off, but unfortunately he annoys her as much as he intrigues her.

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

Nancy's original design and concept was actually based on an old non-Pokemon OC I had a long time ago (you'll never waterboard out of me what fandom she originally came from). I'd long abandoned the project (and the fandom) I originally created that character for, so when USUM rolled around and I was rotating the idea of a Looker/Anabel fankid in my mind I decided to recycle the ideas for a new character in this AU! She's evolved a lot since then, though.

[lildevyl]

Tommy Innit's Secret Clinic: UPDATE

Hey, Guys, Gals, Demons, Ghouls and Multi-Fandom Fiends! I'm back but with an update instead of a theory! So, I've been meaning to post this for some time but every time I sat down, to write. Something keeps coming up or I just couldn't find the "Right Words" to write so I'm just going to Write!

I know many of you have been waiting to about Tommy Innit's Secret Clinic, and it's been almost a year since I've updated Secret Clinic. For those of you who have been patiently waiting, THANK YOU! I can't tell you how much I appreciate that! Which leads me to this. And before anyone starts to PANIC! NO, I'm not Discontinuing, Abandoning, Orphaning, or Deleting the story! I AM going to finish it!

Also, the tags that I will be using from here on out for Tommy Innit's Secret Clinic, #tommy innit's secret clinic, #TISC, #secret clinic, #Tommy Innit's Secret Clinic, #Secret Clinic, #tisc

BUT I want to address a few things first!

The Main Reason why I haven't updated at all is because I honestly haven't had the chance to! I'm back in school trying to get my degree and with things going on at work. Plus, a ton of IRL Stuff, has been popping up at the worst times! So I haven't had any time to actually sit down and write! Let alone sit down and draw any fanart!

I hit some Major Writer's Block! To the point that I actually tried NOT to write because I couldn't write anything or it was just absolute GARABE that I didn't even save in my Idea/Save For Later/Free Writing Folder. Which is another reason why it's been taking me so long!

I know all of you if not a majority of you already know what's been going on with the whole Willaim Gold (I refuse to call him by his Character/Stage Name!). And that's another major reason why it's been taking me a long ass while. YES! I know it's about the Characters NOT the Content Creators! I know that and fully believe that! Trust me! It's taken me many years to figure that out and still enjoy the Movies/Shows/Books that I love!

HOWEVER, I do have a Couple OC's that are based on a couple of Mutals of mine. I did reach out to them and they have politely and respectfully asked me to not have the Characters in the story. So, what I'm going to do is, I'm going to re-edit Tommy Innit's Secret Clinic.

Way too many Spelling/Grammer Mistakes that I'm too embarrassed and can't believe that I missed!

I'm going to re-write and change a couple of Characters.

I'm going to Repost Tommy Innit's Secret Clinic on Tumblr after done re-editing it.

With that said, if anyone would like to be tagged for the story, please let me know! Either tag me, DM me, or just drop in my inbox what user name you want me to tag!

HOWEVER IF, you are NOT Comfortable with the Character Wilbur Soot, no matter the reason. Here is a list of the tags that from here on out on all Social Media Platforms including AO3. I will be using them for the Character Wilbur Soot. If you are Uncomfortable about the Character, you are more then welcome to block the tags so as to NOT see the posts!

Tags for Character Wilbur Soot:

#c!Wilbur Soot

#c!Wilbur

#DSMP! Wilbur Soot

#DSMP! Wilbur

#L'Manbur

#L'Manburg Wilbur Soot

#L'Manburg Wilbur

#Pogtopiabur

#Pogtopia Wilbur

#Pogtopia Wilbur Soot

#Revivebur

#Revive Wilbur

#Revive Wilbur Soot

#Ghostbur

#Villain Wilbur

#Villain Wilbur Soot

#Siren!Wilbur

#Siren!Wilbur Soot

#Siren Wilbur

#Siren Wilbur Soot

#Hero!Wilbur

#Hero Wilbur Soot

#QSMP! Wilbur

#QSMP Wilbur Soot

#q! Wilbur

#q! Wilbur Soot

#QSMP Wilbur Soot

#q Wilbur

#q Wilbur Soot

#Sorry Boys Wilbur Soot

#Sorry Boys Wilbur

#Sorry Wilbur

#Sorry Wilbur Soot

Again, if you are Uncomfortable about the Character Wilbur Soot feel free to block these tags! These will be the ones that I will be using from here on out!

[voxmortuus]

Hey! Wondering if you could do a Dom!Jason Dean x fem!reader? Where she tried to go to the police and JD kidnaps her? Degrading, warnings of murder, and blood play? Please? I really like your writing.

PAIRING: Dom!Jason Dean x Fem!Reader

UNIVERSE: Heathers

WORDS: 780

SUMMARY/PROMPT: See above <3

Trigger Warning(s): Degradation | Mention of Murder | Kidnapping | Blood Play | Language | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this…

NOTE: Sorry if this isn’t what you expected, I’m hoping this finds you well love! I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT!!!

IMAGE CREDIT: Google I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF THESE IMAGES. If these are yours or you know who the creator(s) is please INBOX me and let me know. Thank you.

My Master Masterlist | Taglist

REQUESTS: 500 FOLLOWER EVENT REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!

Crazy: adjective, noun, and adverb. Meaning? Unusually offensive, showing as mentally unstable, unable to think clearly or sensibly, wild and uncontrollable. As a noun, it means one who acts crazy, and as an adverb, it means something is crazy good. Synonyms: Adjective: absurd, bizarre, fanciful, fantastic (also fantastical), foolish, insane, nonsensical, preposterous, unreal, wild. Synonyms: Noun: bug, crackbrain, fool, fruitcake, head case, loon, loony, lunatic, maniac, nut, nutcase, nutter [British slang], psycho, psychopath, sickie, sicko, wacko (also whacko).

All of these things are JD to a T. Unstable, wild, and uncontrollable. And yet, somehow in my clouded judgment, I think he's fantastic! But something has to give- something has to turn around and put JD in his place. We can't keep doing this, getting away with these crimes against innocent people. Though he would tell me that I am likely being irrational and that they aren't really innocuous. What if he's right? What if he's actually onto something?

Sitting in your living room, you're looking at your phone. You hear JD in your head. "Don't do it." he says. "You know better." he tells you. His voice playing over and over again in your head. You stand up and begin to pace in front of the phone. Taking in a deep breath, you reach for the telephone and dial 9-1-1, and wait. When they pick up, you start telling them you need to report crimes. When they start asking for details, your phone starts to make the sound of a dial tone.

You look around and find JD on the other side of the wall, and he shakes his head.

"I warned you, Y/N. You shouldn't have done that." He sighs, and grabs you by your hair, and drags you out of your house. You begin to kick and scream. JD stops and looks down at you with such a heavy sigh and a shake of his head. "That's not going to get you anywhere. Now, shut up, and be a good girl, yeah?"

At this moment, you hate him- you despise him. He throws you in his trunk and drives off. Screaming, punching, and kicking at the car, he turns up the volume of the music and does a break check to jolt the car to get you to stop. Defeated, you close your eyes and just pray he doesn't kill you two like he murdered those girls.

The looks of horror on their faces when he shot them, the sounds of their screams, the sounds of their silence as they hit the floor. The blood that had begun to pool around them. You tense and close your eyes, letting out a heavy breath.

Finally, the car stops. He lifts the trunk door and looks over you. "Don't make me kill you too." He asserted, licking his lips and pulling you from the trunk.

You nod and follow him into this building. With some quick-acting, he handcuffed you to the pole in the center of the abandoned building. You look over at him, you clench your jaw and snarl, you want to scream, but chances are, knowing JD, that wouldn't make a bit of difference. He clearly thought this out, and it infuriated you.

JD smirks and makes his way over to you. "You know, Y/N, you can never leave me. You're mine now. I can do whatever I'd like. Whenever I'd like. I can slice and dice ya. I can fuck you into next week... oh, the possibilities." He smirked.

You bite your lip, shaking your head, your eyes well in tears, and you bite your lip hard enough it starts to bleed, dripping down your chin. He looks over your face. "I love it when you cry." The closer he gets to you, the more you want to back up, but you can't.

You close your eyes and turn your face away- so you're not looking at him. He grips your jaw and leans in, and licks the blood from your chin. With a smirk and a manic laugh he takes the knife from his back pocket and cuts you along your collarbone and licks at the blood that begins to pool. He groans, which causes you to groan.

"That's it, pretty girl, enjoy it. Embrace it." He purrs against your ear as his hands work at your clothing. Your free hand finds its way to his excited bulge and you chuckle.

"You're fucking crazy JD."

"But I'm your crazy... Pretend to be scared, you get so wet when you do. Crazy little slut you." He mused.

"Am I your crazy slut?" You ask.

"My filthy slut." He smirks against your skin licking at your blood again.

[kaepop-trash]

More Doyoung?

🥺

👉👈

(i dont think the emojis will work)

it worked 😂

Combining these two asks, because it is what it is. Sorry second anon I know this isn't what you really wanted but I have another ask for the club sitting in my inbox that's a bit more specific so whenever I get to writing that you'll get what you wanted.

This is so very unprompted. No one asked for this, but I thought about this and I couldn't stop myself from writing about this. I think about 'the club' and I can't just write some sappy missionary bs. This though is just so unnecessary. But you will accept it. Let me have my moments. This happens right after this ask, like literally the same day. I'm excelling at being self-serving lately. I'm sooo sleep deprived so you can blame this on that.

Pairing: Doyoung×Reader×Johnny

Warnings: [Hold on for this] Alcohol and Implied Drug use, Exhibitionism/ Voyeurism, Penetration, Unprotected sex, (Kind of) Threesome, Dirty Talking, Degradation, Praise, Edging, Glass-wall Sex, Some Cuckold Dynamics, Slight MalexMale, Handjob, Switches being Switches; Johnny's a hard dom in this one but he's also a pussy, No team players, Sex as a competitive sport, A handbag tangent, Lots of aggressive tension under the surface, Who is the biggest masochist in this? Leave it in the comments (it's me).

WC: 4444 (Leaving the whole number because this piece of sin ended on an angel number when god abandoned me a long time ago.)

__

Doyoung was pulled out of his attention while scrolling through his phone when he felt (Y/N)'s presence close to him.

"Are you wearing eyeliner?" She asked Doyoung, squinting in focus and leaning closer. Doyoung looked up from his phone, frowning at the sudden proximity.

"Yeah, I am." He told her, justifiably confused.

When the sofa dipped beside her she leaned back, "Oh." She turned her posture to face Doyoung completely.

"Why? Is it weird?" He asked, suddenly self-conscious.

She clicked her tongue, "It's fine. You look hot." Doyoung looked behind her with a gaze that was a mix of uncertainty and intrigue— to where Johnny sat down. It was definitely an interesting thing to say with the man right behind her.

"Thanks. So do you." Doyoung replied, looking back at her with a knowing gaze. Her lips tugged, finally turning to look behind her.

Johnny watched her with a deliberative gaze, looking deep in some thought. She looked at the drink in his hand with a mock pout.

"You could have at least gotten me one." She whined. Johnny extended his arm and she rolled her eyes with a dramatic flair.

"No, I don't want your whiskey. Get me a cocktail or something, I should be drunker than this at–" She paused, reaching for his arm to turn his watch dial to her, "2 in the morning. The three of us are the only ones left." She pointed at both men, unable to curb the small smirk on her lips. "Even the esteemed owner has left. Get me something lethal."

Johnny raised a brow at her, clearly a little annoyed. "The bar is quite the walk from here."

"It was your idea to come to sit at the back of the club." She reminded him.

"You were the one complaining about the loud music." He responded with equal bite. Doyoung watched the exchange with a perceptive gaze.

There was a moment of silence, both of them just staring at each other. Each staying guarded while also trying to read the other.

"I can go." Doyoung said awkwardly from behind her, suddenly feeling like he was encroaching. Johnny's eyes flashed with indignation as he looked at Doyoung, making him want to snort.

"No." She said, turning back to Doyoung. "You were telling me about your eyeliner." She put her cheek on her palm, trying to look interested.

"Plus," She tilted her head to catch Johnny from the corner of her eye. "Johnny knows what I like."

Doyoung spoke only after Johnny disappeared from the large room they were alone in.

"Why are you punishing him?" He questioned, making her frown.

"I'm not punishing anybody. He's been galavanting around all evening, he can get me a drink." She tried to make it sound like it was an obvious decision, voice nonchalant.

"You've been sitting here with me all evening." Doyoung raised a brow.

"You're my friend." She looked at him, a slow frown seeping into her features.

"I don't think he sees it like that, (Y/N)." Doyoung clicked his tongue.

"I don't think I care. And since when do you? " She looked away from him with a heavy frown. Doyoung chuckled, she was right of course. And Doyoung realised he could have some more fun out of it than he would if he walked out into the club.

So he just shrugged and let go, turning his phone to her. "Look at this video."

__

Johnny walked back into the room to find (Y/N) and Doyoung smiling at the phone in his hand, his hand casually on her thigh. The ice-cold drink stung his palm as his echoing footsteps approached them.

She looked up at him with questioning eyes when he stood in front of her in silence. He reached out the glass in his palm, chest caving despite himself when she gave him a smile.

“This is exactly what I needed.” She sighed after she finished half the drink in one long slurp from the straw.

“Why do you always drink these sugary drinks?” Johnny asked out of curiosity.

“They get you drunk faster. And generally tastes nicer.” Doyoung informed him in her stead. “Always efficient.” He scoffed, pointing his finger at her.

(Y/N) frowned at the gesture. “Please, don’t make that sound like it’s a bad thing. My efficiency has saved you from a lot of troubles.” She reminded him.

“It’s also gotten me laid so I’m going to have to agree.” He added, grinning when she paused as she went to take a sip of her drink.

Johnny watched as her back went stiff before she looked away and scoffed, shaking her head.

“You know what would be really efficient?” Doyoung announced, looking right at Johnny before back at her, raising a brow.

“No.” She replied to his unvoiced proposition. “Shut up.” She sat back, finally allowing Johnny to see her face. Johnny turned to look at her, unaware of what they were talking about.

“Let’s not pretend this isn’t where this was already going.” Doyoung clicked his tongue. A momentary agitation crossed her eyes before she took another large sip of her drink, shaking her head.

“We’ve done it before.” Doyoung raised his brow again and her brows creased together, turning an incredulous look at him.

She groaned. “That was a stranger! Doyoung just sh–”

Doyoung clicked his tongue, cutting her off, “We should ask Mr Boss what he thinks.” He looked up at him, the whole exchange only confusing Johnny more.

“What I think about what?” He asked with heavy caution in his voice.

“Nothing.” She turned to him.

“The three of us. Fucking. Don’t worry about her, (Y/N)’s pretending she doesn’t like the attention. It’ll be fun.” He breezed through the words.

Johnny felt too caught off-guard to say anything at first. He shouldn’t be opposed to the idea at all. In fact, he thought someone like Doyoung was almost close to his type.

“He’s probably strung on some drugs right now.” She turned to Johnny, defending the odd man instead of just saying no. “I’m sorry on his behalf.” She sighed.

“Now you don’t need to be my advocate.” Doyoung rolled his eyes. She turned her head to Doyoung, giving him a look so irritable but open that Johnny was both glad it wasn't aimed at him and felt bothered by the same.

“Why not?” Johnny found himself saying. “Nothing new.” He tried to sound nonchalant, adding a shrug. “You’ve already seen me have sex with someone else, how bad can it be?” The last statement felt, even to him, unnecessary. But it still filled him with a kind of gratification that he felt missing from the night so far.

She turned to him, eyes unreadable and always closed to his scrutiny. Johnny raised an expectant brow that hid the sting of his indignation.

“Fine.” Her voice was lower, looking over his face with a stiff jaw before turning around. “We will never speak of this again.”

“That’s our entire sex life.” Doyoung chimed in, grinning with a small glee.

“Upstairs.” She turned to Johnny. He could only nod, not one to back away from something he had committed to.

__

Johnny's hand gripped at the marble counter of the bathroom sink so tight that he had begun feeling pinpricks.

'You never take anything lying back.' That is what Doyoung said when he pressed her up against the glass wall that he was currently fucking her against. The man told Johnny he can watch from inside the bathroom. Like he needed to be given permission.

Johnny watched as Doyoung pressed her harder against the glass, her skin on display. He raised his other hand to take a sip from his glass, the whiskey now watered down till it tasted like nothing.

"Look at how hard he is, (Y/N). It must be my lucky day." Doyoung groaned into her neck, snapping his hip up in a way that made her lips part. Her hand grappled unsuccessfully at the glass before reaching back to Doyoung's waist.

Heat pooled in the depths of Johnny's stomach as they both groaned together. Doyoung's words seem to remind him of his growing arousal.

"You're so wet, babe." Doyoung growled. "Loving the eyes on you? God, you're making me want to take this condom off just to feel you cream my dick." He thrust his hips.

She pulled her pressed cheek away from the glass just enough, swallowing thickly. "Don't be cocky." She warned. "I don't want to risk an STD." Doyoung's lips twitched at the words.

"Does the boss know how dirty you really like it? I bet no one does." He bit down on her ear, turning to meet Johnny's gaze. "You've gotten so good at compartmentalising life in your neat little boxes haven't you, little liar?"

"I told you not to call me that, asshole." She smacked his waist hard enough that Johnny heard it. Doyoung flinched but his eyes remained on Johnny, scrutinizing him.

"9-5's don't really know how to have fun, do they?" Doyoung chuckled, hand slamming against the glass as he kept his eyes on Johnny.

With his other hand, Doyoung reached for her leg. Johnny bit down on his lip when he pulled it back to wrap around his waist.

"Fucking prick, I'm going to get a cramp." She groaned, hand reaching out to grab his arm on the glass so hard that her nails dug into it. Doyoung just winced playfully.

"You love it. Always taking the pain in stride." He spoke through gritted teeth, leaving a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Why does your man keep looking at me, (Y/N)? Do you have your eyes closed?" Doyoung scoffed.

"He's not," She gasped when Doyoung lifted the leg behind him higher. "He's not my man." She huffed.

The words made Johnny's blood spike hot in a way that he didn't expect, more than anything else that had happened so far.

"He's so hard for me then? Mr. not-your-man?" Doyoung hummed.

"Johnny is nobody's man. He likes men too. So I don't see why that's implausible." She sighed, eyes still screwed shut. She spoke like Johnny wasn't in the room.

"Oh my, (Y/N)." Doyoung smirked, "You've really made our tenth fuck a good one, haven't you? You aren't even trying to take over. Remind me to get you that Bottega bag you wanted." Doyoung brushed his lips over her shoulders, letting her leg go. Johnny noted how she kept it in place despite her previous protest.

"Shut up." She spat, head falling back when Doyoung bit down on her neck, a wretched moan leaving her lips. "God." She gasped with liquid pleasure, resting her head on his shoulder. The sound made Johnny squirm, his pants feeling tighter by the minute.

Doyoung pulled back, giving her a small smile. A familiar and comfortable smile as his pace turned relentless. She groaned, the hand on his arm only tightening.

"It was the green one wasn't it?" Doyoung asked. Johnny watched her finally open her eyes, giving the man a confused look.

"The bag?" Doyoung frowned. Her lips tugged, and she gave him a nod.

"You're certifiably insane." She laughed, the sound breathless between her strained moans. "Yeah, it was the green one." She nodded.

"You should get a Birkin or something. I'm feeling generous." Doyoung offered, the inquiry not obstructing the precise jolts of his hips but slowing down their frequency.

(Y/N)'s face scrunched despite it, "No thanks. I don't want to get insurance for a handbag."

Doyoung smiled a little more, giving her a nod. "I guess it's not your type of thing." He pushed the hair stuck on her face away.

When Doyoung leaned closer, Johnny's heartbeat grew. His fingers gripped the counter tighter than he thought possible just as Doyoung gazed at her lips.

The relief he felt when he kissed the tip of her nose did nothing for him. When Doyoung's lips brushed over hers Johnny gripped his jaw tight, finally moving away from the counter.

"My turn." Johnny announced, not lingering on the grin on Doyoung's face that looked almost victorious.

"You didn't even let me finish." Doyoung clicked his tongue.

"Go sit and wait and I'll finish you off myself. Neither of you knows what patience is. Fucking like animals in heat." Johnny voiced his disapproval.

Doyoung grabbed her leg to place it down despite the resistance. "Sorry babe." He laughed when she groaned, "I'd have to be an idiot to say no to that." He stepped back, leaving a small peck on her lips.

Johnny pulled his belt off with a swift tug at the sight, tugging the rest of his clothes off as Doyoung went to sit on the chair in the corner of the room. Johnny bit back a wince when he pulled down his pants, dick already painfully hard. It only added to his growing temper.

"On the bed, kitten." He ordered, watching her listen wordlessly with her gaze on the floor. When she started getting on her knees Johnny clicked his tongue. "On your back, I was having such a nice time watching you. Why stop now?" He stepped up to the edge as she turned, his shadow washing over her entire frame.

She watched him with the same unreadable eyes that Johnny had started to detest, both their chests still heaving.

"I've waited all night for this." He grumbled as he got on top of her. In one swift thrust, Johnny entered her raw.

"God you really are soaking wet." He groaned, willing himself to not rut into her desperately.

He pulled out so slowly that her lips parted with an audible gasp. Johnny's own teeth clenched just as he was inches away from falling out of her, entering back just as slow.

She whimpered, head falling back and hand coming up to his shoulder, still not looking at him. Johnny went so slow that he felt every inch of her walls clench around him, his own eyes shutting to relish the sensation. He maintained the pace for several minutes, both their bodies glistening with sweat.

"Johnny faster, please." She gasped finally, hand tightening on his shoulder.

"No. I want to feel you like this." He lowered himself a little closer to her, ignoring the burn in his arms.

"Please." She whimpered, bottom lip protruding.

"Does the rockstar know what a good little slut you are for me?" He questioned. She whimpered again, hand now reaching over to his neck. Johnny didn't look up when Doyoung sniggered at the words. "Does he know what a dumb little obedient pet you become when I fuck you?" He took her bottom lip between his teeth, biting down harsher than he had ever before. When she moaned with reckless abandon, Johnny's breath stumbled.

"My stupid slut can't even speak." Johnny hummed, lifting one hand to caress her face. He clamped his jaw, trying his best not to increase his pace. When she whined it felt worth his efforts.

"Johnny, please." Her brows creased, "Just a little faster, you're driving me crazy." She fisted his hair, his dick twitching from the harsh tug. "Please." Johnny saw the tears on the corner of her eyes, reaching over to kiss it. She took advantage of the distance, thrusting up into him.

Johnny put a hand on her stomach to stop her movement, "You're so fucking spoiled." He groaned, not giving in to the pleas as he stopped moving entirely. "Be a good girl and hold still." He buried his face into her neck, sucking on the skin with a task in mind.

"Johnny." She cried out, "Please I'm begging you. Move." She pushed her hips up again, pouting when he grabbed her waist and slammed her back onto the mattress. Johnny admired the deep maroon mark blooming on her neck, momentarily glancing at the red teeth marks on the other shoulder.

"Can't handle a little restraint, can you?" He growled at her with the brunt of his rage. "Hold fucking still, (Y/N). You need to learn how to listen." He pulled back till he was barely inside her.

"Johnny." She whispered, bringing both her arms to his waist in a desperate attempt to pull him back.

"Hands above your head." He ordered, jaw flexing.

Finally, (Y/N) opened her eyes. Her gaze laced with impatient anger aimed at him, irritable and undeniably open. Johnny took in a triumphant breath.

"If you're in the mood to boss someone around Sir, I suggest you go look for your blonde friend." A deep frown etched her face after a moment's consideration. One that made him realise that the meaning of the words was lost to her till she uttered them.

Johnny's lips twitched, the words making his chest stir in a way that was entirely new.

"And leave you hanging?" He taunted her, his hips still absolutely still while he remained inside her.

"Doyoung's still here." She tilted her chin up to catch his eye, "I wonder if you'll let me do this to you in front of your pretty friend. You sound better than me when you beg, you know?" She sighed.

Johnny reached for her chin, grabbing it tight and turning her head back to him.

"Eyes on me, pet. Do you think I didn't notice the little stunt you pulled before? Kissing me for her to see?" Johnny questioned, smiling when her brows raised in surprise. "Do you think I'm stupid? I just let you get away with these things. You are my favourite little slut after all." His hold tightened as he pushed back into her slowly, earning a guttural groan.

"My pretty friend would enjoy your little games. Probably more than I do. How about next time?" He raised a brow. Johnny let her chin go but she said nothing, eyes focused on him.

"You should call her now." Doyoung chimed in, reminding Johnny of his presence.

"Shut up Doyoung. Shut the fuck up, you stupid cuck." She snapped, eyes on Johnny despite who she spoke at. It made Johnny feel like the words were aimed at him.

Finally, Johnny could be certain that they were on the same boat. He pulled back out of her and slammed in faster, her head falling back.

"Fuck you, John." She writhed under him.

"You are." He replied, breathing turning harsh as he finally let go, pace getting brutal with each thrust. "Doing an exceptional job too." He reached over to kiss her chin. "Look at me?" He murmured, lips sliding over hers.

"Johnny." Her voice held a tepid warning.

"Eyes on me, kitten." He ordered, slowing down his pace to emphasise the demand.

She forced her eyes open and Johnny wasted no time moulding his lips over hers. He winced when he grabbed her hair a little harder but didn't break his kiss, watching her impossibly furious gaze with a sense of accomplishment. She pressed her tongue over him just to prove a point and Johnny smiled, pulling away from the kiss entirely.

"I forgot how hot you are when you're pissed." He gave her a softer smile, leaving a quick kiss at the corner of her mouth.

"God, Johnny just fucking shut up. I want to come." She snapped, hitting his chest as her eyes glazed over again. He pulled closer to her, leaving soft kisses all over her face. "Please, Johnny." She added with a softer voice.

"Just a little longer." He whispered the promise smiling when she shook her head in refusal. "You're doing so well for me, kitten. So perfect." He slowly built up his pace again, hand brushing her hair to soothe her discontent. "Just so perfect for me." He added, looking over her face one last time before burying his head into her neck. His breath stuttered when she slid her hand down his spine.

"I always knew you were the suit and tie kind." Johnny heard Doyoung scoff in the background, a distant sound to his ears behind her soft grunts close to him.

"How does it feel?" Johnny asked her, kissing the base of her ear. His voice was just loud enough for her to hear.

"So good. Always, always so fucking good, John." She squirmed, voice sounding like a low sob. "You drive me crazy." She sighed, immediately gasping when he wrapped a leg around his waist.

"Want to come?" He sighed into the mattress.

"Please, Sir." She moaned, making him smile.

"Close?" He left feather-light kisses on her neck. She nodded.

Johnny began rutting into her with exact jolts and a string of curses along with his name left her lips. It only spurred him on.

"God, Johnny." A shrill shriek left her as her muscles went rigid, her walls rapidly convulsing around him, driving him insane. Johnny grit his teeth, helping ride out her high without giving into his own impending release.

"I'm going to come on you." He announced, "I always wanted to know how you'd look marked with my come all over you." He pulled out of her quickly, groaning when she gave him a tired nod. As badly as Johnny wanted to aim at her face, he refrained. Jerking himself off onto her stomach instead.

(Y/N) watched as Johnny slowly slid off the bed, so tired that she really couldn't think of how she felt about what had passed. Even if she wanted to. Still, her chest stirred a little when she was reminded of the look in Johnny's eyes. One that looked so close to being enraged.

"You should go clean up." Johnny spoke, giving her a small smile.

"Yes, I should." She spoke, her limbs not agreeing to the pursuit. Johnny smirked like he sensed it, her stomach twisting again despite the sinking exhaustion.

"That was so hot." Doyoung broke the silence, making her roll her eyes. He was relentless.

Johnny slowly looked up, away from her to him. "I guess I owe you." He said as he slipped his pants back on.

She finally sat up, reaching over to grab tissues to wipe herself off. She considered her next steps as Johnny walked over to where Doyoung sat. She gave in to the impulsive part of her mind that seemed to exist only for the two men in the room with her, turning to look.

Just as she did, Johnny sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning over to reach Doyoung.

"Are you really a cuck?" Johnny asked, voice lacking any malice. In fact, his voice lacked anything but objective intrigue.

Doyoung's head fell back when Johnny's thumb brushed over his tip. "Are you?" He managed to get out. Johnny grabbed his shaft so hard in response that (Y/N) winced on Doyoung's behalf. But like she expected, he loved it, laughing instead.

Johnny started too fast, too soon and she heard herself clicking her tongue.

"Slower. He deserves some agony." She spoke, not cowering away when Johnny turned his gaze to her.

"Bitch." Doyoung said playfully, forehead creasing when Johnny did what he was told. "Don't listen to her, be your own man." Doyoung told Johnny.

"I always listen to her." Johnny shrugged. The words made her chest stir a little more.

Doyoung hummed, lifting his head back up to look at her. "What are you punishing me for?"

"Nothing at all. I'm just enjoying the view." She spoke, still sitting on the other end of the bed.

Doyoung smirked, "Sometimes I think you believe your own lies."

She took in a sharp breath, "Doyoung loves being told what a good boy he's being. Don't you, good boy? Trying so hard not to come when your pretty little cock is blue from the lack of attention." She retaliated.

"He really is a good boy." Johnny squeezed his dick, "Watching me fuck you without touching himself even once. I'm impressed, Rockstar. You have more patience than your friend does." He twisted his fist, making Doyoung gasp.

"Everybody has more patience than (Y/N)." Doyoung gave Johnny a wink, propping his head up.

"You should have taught her better manners." Johnny clicked his tongue.

"I'm still here." She frowned, not getting a response from either of them.

"Impossible. You can try your best, though." Doyoung gave him a secretive look, scoffing.

Johnny smirked at the words, "I would say I do a decent job." He turned to look at her, "Don't you agree, kitten?" She bit her lip, earning a short chuckle from him.

"You are trying your best." She shrugged. Doyoung laughed at the statement.

"You'd claw my dick out if I made you beg, so I'd say he's succeeding. I'm almost a little hurt, (Y/N). I've never heard you say please." Doyoung hip bucked and it brought her attention back to Johnny's hand, where he began pumping him with a steady rhythm.

"Are you enjoying this?" Johnny asked, and despite his gaze aimed at Doyoung, she just knew the words were for her.

"Yes." She answered. "You're so hot like this." She whispered, gut flipping just as she spoke.

"Then I guess we're all cucks." Doyoung laughed, groaning when Johnny pressed his thumb over his tip.

"Shut up." Both of them told him at the same time, (Y/N)'s voice was a little more annoyed than Johnny's.

"Will you come home with me?" Johnny asked her.

"Of course." She responded immediately. With a satisfied hum, Johnny increased his pace.

"Time to come, pretty boy. I need some sleep." Johnny told him, earning a quick compliant nod from Doyoung that made her lips twitch.

Johnny could make anyone obedient, she realised.

An afflicted groan left Doyoung's lips as he finally came. (Y/N) watched as his release dripped into Johnny's hand, ignoring the heat pooling in her core all over again. Johnny pumped him dry before pulling away.

__

Doyoung left the club with mixed feelings, reaching for his phone to drop Yuta a text announcing that he won the wager. His lips tugged when his phone rang.

"Which wager is this?" Yuta said the moment he answered.

"I told you it's not just a quick fuck. He's her type." Doyoung scoffed, focusing on the glory of being right.

"Who?" Yuta responded, making Doyoung sigh.

"(Y/N)." He shrugged.

"Oh." Yuta said, "You okay?" He added immediately, making Doyoung frown.

"Of course. You owe me a new car." Doyoung reminded Yuta, making him groan.

"Remind me never to make a bet when I'm high." He sighed. "Why do you even want a Tesla dude? It's such a banker's car."

"I'm eco-friendly." Doyoung shrugged.

Character from: Chance Encounter

Mini Masterlist

[stuckyxren]

First, I’d like to sorta apologize for all the image content. I’ve actually gone through a breakup today and this is my escape. I don’t think I’ve written so much in less than 24 hours in a VERY long time.

Thank you for reading my content anyways. My inbox is open for requests and other jazz.

Also, there is slight mentions of TW panic attacks. Please be safe. ❤️

————————————

Imagine winding down with Steve and Bucky at the end of the first day of your break up.

You ask the boys to sleep over when you almost burst into tears as they started to leave to go get ready for bed. They readily comply. Steve goes and changes clothes, bringing back some for Bucky, while Bucky stays behind with you. He sits on your bed as you wonder into your bathroom, hurriedly changing into your pjs to make sure they haven’t left you.

The boys know your past and they know of your abandonment issues. They thought this relationship finally broke that wall down, but obviously they were wrong. You just thought you’d found the one and he had broken through that wall. Now you were back to square one.

As you come out, Bucky has his pjs and is ready to trade with you. You step over to your vanity, grab a tube of face mask, and begin to apply it. This was something you did a couple times a week to help motivate you to take care of yourself. Even now, you go about the motions and go through your nightly routine. Steve gets his and Bucky’s pallets situated on the floor and looks up when he hears the pop of the cap closing. He practically comes face to face with a green faced you. Holding his composure, Steve continues with his task.

Bucky emerges in his night clothes and practically screeches when you turn to him. He wasn’t expecting that and he has never had good experiences with people who suddenly have a different colored face. Steve can’t help but to burst out laughing at Bucky’s reaction. You aren’t sure what to make of it and just give him a dumbfounded look.

Then, you look down and mumble and quiet “sorry” as you scurry into the bathroom. Steve immediately quiets down and Bucky turns toward the door, catching it with his foot.

“Doll.” Bucky says, reaching for your hand. “It’s okay. Just took me by surprise.”

You look up into his eyes, searching for any fault in them, before squeezing his hand and retreating into the bathroom to wash your face off.

The boys get settled as they watch you finish up your nightly routine in the bathroom mirror. They are all settled and already half asleep by the time you come out.

Secretly, you are disappointed that they are sleeping on the floor, but you don’t say anything as you crawl into bed. You try to just feel lucky to have two best friends willing to sleep on your floor to comfort you after a break up.

As you try to fall asleep, the emotions of the day come rushing back. You try to hold the tears at bay, but they begin to fall after a few minutes. They boys are both snoring, so you let the sobs overtake your frame.

In your state, you forget that Steve is a light sleeper. So, when your cries become louder, abet still muffled by your pillow, his heart sinks. He shifts and listens for a few minutes to see if you’ll fall asleep. When you don’t, Steve sits up, making as much noise as he can as to not startle you.

“Sweetheart? You okay?” Steve whispered, reaching for your shaking form.

When he finds you shaking harshly and not responding to his question, Steve reaches behind him and shakes Bucky awake.

“Wha?” Bucky mumbled, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Sweetheart. Talk to me.” Steve says, still trying to catch your attention, but also cluing Bucky in.

Bucky raises from the floor and moved to your other side. He places a hand on yours upper arm and becomes alarmed at the coldness of your skin. You’ve hyperventilated for a little too long that your skin is a bit colder to the touch than usual.

“Steve.” Bucky whispers, looking to him for guidance.

Steve stays quiet as he thinks. “Doll, we are gonna climb in. Is that okay?” Steve asks, sweeping your hair away from your face.

You nod and both boys are quick to get under your covers. Luckily, you prefer a huge bed, so you all three fit easily.

Bucky places his metal arm under the pillow that your head is resting on. He tugs you into him and let’s you bury your face into his neck as he throws on arm and a leg over you. Steve moved to wrap his arms around you, your back to his chest, and he buries his nose into your hair.

“Shhh doll. Breathe for me.” Bucky whispers into your forehead. Both boys are breathing to help you match theirs. When Steve breathes in, Bucky breathes out. That way you will move your chest with Steve and not have any constrictions.

Bucky runs a hand up and down your arm as he shushed you. Steve stays quiet, but he tightens his hold, little by little, to help bring your focus back to the here and now.

Eventually, you fall asleep from pure exhaustion. The crying and the panic wear you down as the boys comfort you and calm you down. Once you fall asleep, the boys stay in their same positions. They don’t dare to move. Bucky hums for a while longer and Steve just stares at him over your head.

When Bucky stops humming, you shift. You grab hold of Bucky’s arm and lean further back into Steve, the back of your head resting on his collarbone, your forehead nudging his cheek. The boys smile fondly at you before cozying in. They soon fall asleep along side you.

[hellothere-generalangsty]

Hello doll, it's Minty! 💚 I saw your requests are open and I simply had to dance into your inbox! I would adore a Bad Batch Western AU fix with Crosshair and the sentence prompt "If that wound doesn't kill you, then I will". I love you friend! 💚💛💚💛💚

Crosshair – Dust and Blood (TBB Western AU)

Summary: Every story need a beginning, a middle, and an end. This is the beginning, and it starts with a man who calls himself Crosshair.

From the sentence prompts:

22. “If that wound doesn’t kill you, then I will.”

Word Count: ≈1535 words

CW/ TW: Angst? Idk if you could say it’s angsty - it’s not happy that’s for sure but angsty? Idk anyway; western stuff, wounds/ injuries, (death) threats, pain, scars, blood

Tags: @mintywriteswritings @chaoticvampirejedi @loth-wolffe @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s (thank you again for the help!) @dusk-dawn-and-stars @tacticalsparkles @imalovernotahater @canwestayinthisdream @wakeupjackthisisntfair @namesmox @badbatch-simp24 @lightning-wolffe @maddieskywalker @for-the-love-of-clones @m-e-w-117 @99squad @equalityforcats

@ladykatakuri @firelordillyria @andiebell2023

Notes: This is so exciting for me you can’t even imagine; thank you Minty for the request! I’m really happy to dive a bit more into the stories of the boys, and Crosshair’s arc is one I’m really happy to explore ^^

Also feel free to check Little One – Highly Suspect (you’ll find out a lot of their songs help me dive into that AU)

Dust.

This is how everything started, and how everything would end. He knew it the moment he jumped down his horse, a grimace of pain twisting his face as the dry coat of blood on his ribs ripped open once again. He tried to take a deep breath but stopped halfway, the pumping in his head becoming too strong to focus on anything else. He almost tripped on his feet, grabbing the beige mane of his companion to keep himself up; which made the horse neigh.

“Sorry, pal.” He barely muttered, unable to do more than loosen up his grip a bit.

Above him, an old sign falling into pieces, and a barely readable inscription on it; bleached by the constant exposure to the sun and the occasional rains.

Marauder Valley.

He walked through the entrance of the abandoned village – if one could call it a village – and wandered next to his horse, looking for shelter and a new shirt. His was tainted with red; dark and dried, smelling like iron and sweat. His wound wasn't bleeding too much anymore, but he could still feel a thin dash dripping against his skin when he was turning around or raising his arm.

It took him a few minutes to find the abandoned saloon, and the sight made him hum in a mixture of disgust and relief. A thick coat of dust was laying on the floor, and most of the bottles and tables were left to be; frozen in the middle of their usual occupations. A deck of cards was spread on one of them, and he came closer to take a better look.

Poker. And it was a good hand. Whoever played it knew what they were doing.

The wooden floor was lightly creaking under his feet as he walked around; and hadn’t it be for the few footsteps he was leaving behind, no one could have guessed he came here. He took a small hallway, leading to a few unsanitary rooms – barely big enough for a bed and a chair for most of them – and looked under the beds for a medical wallet or something he could use to patch himself up. His head was spinning a bit, but the clicking of a gun’s chamber and the cold metal tickling the back of his neck felt more important in the moment.

“If that wound doesn’t kill you, then I will.”

He slowly turned around, hands barely raised to show he intended no harm, and came face to face with a lady; probably in her mid-forties, small and chubby, and visibly determined to fulfil her promise.

“I need a doctor.”

“You won’t find any ‘round here.”

“Then a drink will do.” he shrugged, unimpressed.

“We’re going out and get you a drink then.”

She moved the cannon of her gun toward the main room, letting him open the way. He went in with the hope of getting some rest and medicine, and got back outside empty-handed and under the threat of an armed lady; bathed by the burning sunrays of a hot afternoon, in the middle of nowhere.

Nothing had changed during his little visit in the saloon but his state. He tripped on his feet, unable to focus on the stairs and the figure next to him, and fell on his knees next to his horse. The pain was getting worse; stinging and burning, the sensation of warm blood dripping from his open wound and straining his shirt even more; and the headache, the heat, the shivers-

“Alright, sit down.”

He dropped his weight on his behind, letting out a heavy sigh.

“Stay here. And don’t faint!” the woman warned as she walked away from him, disappearing behind the horse. His head felt too heavy, his veins pumping too hard to let him think straight. He let himself lay back against the dusty wooden floor, closing his eyes under the bright light burning above him.

He woke up when cold water splashed his face, making him jolt and grimace in pain.

“ Told you not to faint.”

“I didn’t.” he groaned, trying to sit again, the coat of blood ripping itself a bit as he did.

“Feel like y’can walk?” she looked down at him with a sort of irritated worry. He nodded, grabbing the guardrail to get up, slowly. “Good. Follow me.”

He stumbled a bit, trying to catch up with the woman. He thought he could handle it; he had gone through a lot to get here, and it couldn’t be worse than what he had left behind.

Or maybe it could be.

The loud thud of a body falling on the ground caught the woman’s attention, and as she turned around, a sigh escaped from between her lips.

“Great… Now I have to get the big guy.”

.

Waking up was painful, sudden. His ribs were on fire, his eye stinging – though the light was filtering through old curtains – and the remaining of his headache was still blurring his vision. He didn’t noticed the comfort of the mattress right away, neither the voices filling the room he was in.

“Ha, coming back to us. Told ya ‘t would work.” A deep voice commented in a smile.

“And that?” the woman’s voice asked, and he guessed she was pointing at his wounded ribs. He brushed the tips of his fingers against his own torso, realizing he was bare skin and wrapped in a bandage.

“Can’t do miracles. ‘Have to rest for a few days, go easy with manual tasks for a while.”

He let out a groan when he heard the recommendation, and tried to move his arms to push himself up and sit in the bed.

“I wouldn’t do that,” the voice advised in a laugh, “Unless ya want to open that wound ‘gain.”

He blinked a few times, and managed to see who was talking to him; a man, tall and visibly strong, dressed with dirty clothes and a squared shirt – probably a farmer. A scar was covering the side of his bald head and reached his left eye. The man was neither scary nor impressive, and seemed friendly enough.

He abandoned the idea of sitting, letting go of the light pressure he had put on his elbows and falling down against the mattress. His head gently buried itself in the pillow, and he let out a long, tired sigh.

“Who’re you?” he muttered in his breath, turning his head their way to look at them.

“’Name’s Cid,” the woman told him, “and he’s the big guy.”

“You know that’s not my name.” the man chuckled, and his voice filled the room with warmth and amusement as he looked at Cid.

“Don’t know your name, and couldn’t care less about it.” she shrugged.

“And you are?” the big guy asked, shifting his attention back to him.

He had expected the question, and he knew the simple answer would be to give his name. But he couldn’t stand the sound of it anymore, and his spite told him to go for that one instead. After all, it was “made for him”.

“Crosshair.”

 “Well then, welcome to Marauder Valley Crosshair.” The man smiled at him.

He didn’t feel like returning the gesture, but nodded nonetheless, out of respect and gratitude for their help. He scanned the room, bringing a hand to his face; a light grimace twisting his mouth as he felt the skin stretching on the side of his body.

His fingers ran against his scar around his eye, trying to sooth the stinging pain. It was still recent, bright red, not quite blending in with his warm skintone.

“Well, ‘gotta leave now,” the big guy smiled, grabbing his hat in hand as he walked toward the door, “but if you need anything, I won’t be far.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cid pushed him out of the room, following his steps, “we know. You,” she pointed to Crosshair, “don’t play stupid, stay in bed.”

And on these words, she dragged the door behind her, slamming it before her heeled steps hit the apparent stairs outside the room. Crosshair stared at the door for a moment, contemplating once again getting up, but he was tired, and the bed was comfortable; and these people didn’t seem to want him any harm.

He didn’t seem to want any harm either, right, “Crosshair”?

He groaned faintly at the thought, and his hand dropped from his face to his chest, barely grabbing the thin blanket above him. He was far from him; from them, and now he just needed to sleep the pain away.

Sleep the pain away. Sleep.

Don’t let them get to you. Because they will get to you.

He will find you, you know he will.

They did this to you. They will do worse.

You know that, don’t you, Crosshair?

He let out a frustrated sigh at the thoughts, and slowly turned his head to look at the window. The sun was shining bright behind the curtains, and he could see the dust floating in the rays of light filtering through. It was peaceful.

For now he was safe, far away in a lost, abandoned town, in the middle of nowhere.

For now.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Also, we talked a mill years ago about an Inuyasha AU? You wanted to make G wear the necklace etc. Which OBVIOUSLY is a fantastic idea and I really which you would, please 🤣😘💗

Okay, so this isn’t exactly the necklace bit, but it’s the most Inuyasha crossover thing I could think of at the moment! Also I’m sorry that this has been sitting in my inbox for so long! <3 Oops!

Geralt turns into a human one night a month, during the new moon.

wordcount: 1.7k

TW: emotional Geralt whump, angst with a happy ending, pining

---

“Stay in the room,” Geralt instructed, glaring Jaskier down from his place near the door. The bard nodded obediently and made a show of pulling his recently acquired book from his travel bag. 

“I might go down and perform for a bit, but I promise not to bring anyone back and I promise not to start any fights.”

“I’d rather you didn’t leave the room at all,” Geralt grumbled, “But I suppose the coin wouldn’t hurt.”

“Where are you going, anyway?”

“Next town over. Nightwraith.”

“Why can’t I come with you?” the bard pouted. His lower lip stuck out slightly and his eyes crinkled so cutely that it always made the Witcher question his ‘human’ parentage; there was a siren’s power in the way he turned up his nose and fluttered his pretty lashes. “Surely I could sit incredibly high up in a very sturdy tree and watch my glorious companion in all his… glory?”

“Excellent word choice,” Geralt rolled his eyes. He hefted his swords over his shoulder and shot the bard another meaningful look.  “I’ll see you in the morning. Stay. Safe.”

“Yes, Milord,” Jaskier sighed dramatically, flopping back against the pillows and opening his book. “Return to me in as few pieces as possible, dear heart.”

“Hmm.”

And with that, Geralt disappeared into the late afternoon light. 

---

There had been several distinctive changes to Geralt’s physical body after the second round of experimental Trials; his hair, of course, and his ghostly-pale skin were the most obvious. His greatest secret, however, and the strangest of all the Trials’ side effects, were the temporary changes he underwent on the nights of the new moon. His Witcher strength and senses abandoned him and his body returned to its pre-Trial state. He became, for all intents and purposes, a normal human man. 

He hated it. He hated himself. There was no power behind his punches on his human nights and while he remained graceful and competent with his swords, he lost his speed and dexterity. It left him feeling helpless and alone, and an onslaught of emotions (which he was usually able to suppress or ignore) flooded his mind, pulling tears from his eyes and putting a ruddy redness on his cheeks and ears that he found ugly. No doubt Jaskier would find him just as hideous. And useless…

If he couldn’t protect the bard, the handsome young human who smiled at him as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be friends with a Witcher, then what good was he? Keeping Jaskier safe, keeping him alive and smiling like that, was what motivated Geralt to slump his way back to their room even when he wanted nothing more than to drop to the ground and pass out from exhaustion. Making sure Jaskier was okay (and, alright, getting his wounds fawned over and his hair washed wasn’t too bad either) was what kept him alive.

I can’t believe I forgot to keep track, Geralt berated himself as he set up his small campfire just inside the mouth of a cave. I almost revealed my secret to Jaskier. 

Geralt wasn’t sure which outcome he feared more: Jaskier seeing him in his less horrible state and rejecting him completely for keeping secrets/being a true monster, or Jaskier finding his human body attractive and being even more disgusted by his Witchery appearance. Geralt wouldn’t be able to stand either outcome, so he disappeared into the woods or back to the Path (if Jaskier was stuck in a town, teaching or performing) whenever the night of the new moon arrived.

He sighed and crossed his legs, resting his elbows on his bent knees and setting his chin on one upright palm. He glanced up at Roach and grumbled out an excuse: “I just don’t want to lose him.”

Roach whinnied quietly, reproachfully, and Geralt nodded. 

“You’re absolutely right, I should tell Jaskier about all of this, but if I tell him now, after travelling together for so long, he’ll think I don’t trust him. And I do trust him! I trust him as much as I trust my brothers, maybe more considering their pranks… But I don’t want to scare him off, either. I’m such a fucking coward.”

As the last light of day slipped away beneath the horizon and darkness fell, Geralt felt his hair grow coarser and heavier atop his head. His eyesight dimmed and his knowledge of the landscape - every scent and sound - disappeared from his consciousness. The scars on his skin faded away into nothing as his pupils dilated into circles, the irises shifting from honey-gold to a deep, forest green. 

From a nearby bush, Geralt heard a familiar voice mutter, “Holy shit.”

He leapt to his feet and backed against the cave wall, throwing his arm across his face to hide it. “Dammit, Jaskier, I told you to stay at the inn!”

The bard took a nervous step forward, away from his hiding place, and waved bashfully. “Sorry, dear heart. Are you really- is it really you in there, Geralt?”

“Yes?” the Witcher-turned-human raised an eyebrow, lowering his arm back down to his side with no small amount of shame. “Who else would it be?”

“Well,” the bard said, taking a measured step forward. “I wasn’t sure if this was, like, a reverse-werewolf type deal. I didn’t know if you’d have the same memories as before or- or if-”

“It’s still me,” Geralt blushed, actually blushed, and dipped his head down to avoid Jaskier’s curious gaze. “I’m sorry for not telling you before, but-”

“Don’t.”

Geralt glanced back up, even more confused, his emotions playing havoc with his pulse. “I- Don’t I owe you an apology?”

“No,” Jaskier said, settling down on the rocky ground across the fire and gesturing for Geralt to join him. The flames lit up his face, highlighting the roundness of his cheeks and the softness in his eyes. So youthful, yet so determined. “If you’re still Geralt in here” - he tapped the side of his head and grinned playfully - “then you’re still my best friend.”

“Hmm.”

“Oh yeah, my Witcher is definitely in there somewhere,” Jaskier laughed brightly. The sound wound down and he wiped a tear of glee from the corner of his eye. After a long, sobering pause he asked: “So is this what you looked like before… they did all that stuff to you?”

“Before the Trials? Yes. This is what I looked like fifty years or so ago, when I was young and mortal. My shoulders are wider, of course, but that’s just old age.”

Jaskier made his way slowly around the fire, inching closer to Geralt, who had finally taken a seat on his bedroll. When the bard was right next to him, close enough for Geralt to feel their combined body heat through his shirt, he took a lock of Geralt’s hair in his hand. “It’s… it’s not as soft, like this. But it has curls! And it’s almost red!”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier looked overjoyed at the change, and every one of Geralt’s fears flashed before his eyes. He was tempted to wrench away, to fling himself up into Roach’s saddle and ride hard until they both needed a rest. 

But Jaskier had begun talking again, and Geralt did his best to pay attention. “It’s different, but not bad. I think you’re only slightly more handsome when you’re a Witcher, but  your eyes are a lovely shade of green and I’d love to do up your hair someday… if you’d like that. If you’d let me.”

Geralt made a startled noise and turned his head sharply, his eyes boring into Jaskier’s very soul. “Do you mean it?”

“Of course!”

“You don’t- you aren’t mad? Or scared? You don’t think I’m more approachable like this? You wouldn’t prefer me to be like this - like a human - all the time?”

Jaskier shook his head, a sadness Geralt often noticed but didn’t understand falling over his face. “Oh Geralt, you silly, silly, wonderful man. I don’t lo-” - he paused, took a deep breath, and continued - “I love you, okay? As a Witcher. Like this. I have always loved you and I will always love you, regardless of what you look like, but I fell in love with the White Wolf. The man whose reputation needed mending and whose heart… whose heart is so incredibly large despite how often the world tries to harden it.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt gasped. He clutched at his chest, the ache he felt there intensifying a hundredfold under Jaskier’s steady gaze. “I love you, too. I never thought-”

“You often don’t,” the bard teased, closing the space between them with careful, intentional slowness. “Now, keep up the good work and stop thinking entirely. Just kiss me, Geralt. Please?”

“Would you like it if I kissed you?” the Witcher asked, incredulous. Jaskier lifted one delicate hand and slid a lock of Geralt’s curly hair back behind his ear. He pressed a soft kiss to Geralt’s cheek and smiled. 

“Very much, darling.”

“Alright,” Geralt breathed, closing the space between them. It felt so much more intense like this, with his heart beating as quickly as Jaskier’s, threatening to burst from his chest because it was overflowing with happiness. His hand, smooth and unblemished in its current state, cupped the peach-soft skin of the bard’s cheek. He ran his thumb over the hinge of Jaskier’s jaw, feeling the bone and joint working as their mouths moved together. When they finally pulled apart they were both beaming broadly, “Was it okay?”

“You’re very soft like this,” Jaskier noted. “But I miss your eyes and your hair… when will my Geralt return?”

“I’m still yours, Jaskier. Even when I look like this,” Geralt frowned. Jaskier took one of the Witcher’s hands in both of his and held it flat over his heart.

“I know, my dear. And I’m always yours, of course. It’s just… odd. I’ll get used to it the more often I see it, I’m sure. How long does it usually last?”

“I’ll be back to normal when the sun rises.”

“Until then?”

“Come here,” Geralt held up the corner of his blanket. Jaskier shifted so that they were cuddled together, side-by-side. “Better?”

“Now that I’m with you? Of course.”