#not sure if i should keep them hidden under the cut like this or not

[bluebirbbb]

✦ Nothing gold can stay ✦

more under the cut!!!

[heartiis]

the big apple ꩜ .ᐟ pt.2

pt.1 pt.3

pairing - ellie x reader

synopsis - you've just moved to nyc and ellie's your new neighbor. she hates you though and you don't know why :((

cw - mean ellie, eventual side gig dealer ellie, eventual weed, tattoo artist ellie, cigs, drinking, no smut this time but there will be eventually, swearing

a/n - second chapter, i hope you like it!! the pic is not how I want you to imagine reader bc I like to keep her pretty neutral in terms of what she looks like in order for u to fill that in, it's just a pic I found!

The four of you rode the subway towards the club. Dina and Jesse were quite talkative, and you managed to make conversation with them, but Ellie was dead quiet. You wondered if it was always like this or if it was because of you. From what little you’d seen of her interacting with her friends before you came into the mix, you guessed it was the latter.

You tried to pay it no mind, and for the most part it worked. Dina and Jesse were fun to talk to, and you felt excited for the night. You’d never been to the subway this late and it wasn’t uncomfortably packed like in the mornings. However, there were still plenty of people who judging by their outfits looked like they were going to the club as well.

You got to chatting about your back story. You told them you used to live in a small, conservative town which you were fond of in some ways, but that was ultimately not the place for you. They were impressed that you’d made the move on your own, saying that it must’ve taken guts to come from a town like that to New York all on your own, and at such a young age. You told them you hadn’t really thought of it that way. Leaving your hometown wasn’t an act of bravery, it was…survival. When you said that, it was the only time Ellie turned her head to look at you.

You talked about your job, and told them they should come visit you sometime for a drink on the house, earning you some excited chatter. You found out that Jesse was a freelance graphic designer and Dina worked at an independent bookstore to pay the bills but did theater on the side. You were fascinated hearing them talk about it. Jesse worked on his own terms, while Dina was passionate about what she did.

Then they started talking about Ellie’s job as a tattoo artist. They showed you pictures of work she’d done, all her own designs. You weren’t very knowledgeable about what constituted as a good tattoo but you were pretty sure she was really good at her job. The designs were gorgeous, and you could tell she had put a lot of passion into them as well as just technique. You looked at her as they talked. She was making a point not to look back at you.

Your attention was drawn to the skin showing on the parts of her t-shirt that were cut out. It was inked at the ribs, which you hadn’t noticed before. You wondered about what other designs were hidden under her clothes.

When you got off the subway, Jesse led you down two blocks to the place he’d talked about. There was already a line growing by the minute. Thankfully, it moved relatively fast, and soon you were at the door, showing the bouncer your fake id. When he waved you in you made a point to look back at Ellie, smile, and shrug. If she wanted to hate you so much, why not give her a good reason to?

Her expression was passive on the surface, but you could feel the hardness of her stare.

The club was, at first, a little daunting to you. You’d only been to bars with pool tables and jukebox machines. The lights, packed bodies and fake smoke were a lot on the senses, but you soon began to enjoy the chaos and your anxiety melted away. The four of you got drinks at the bar—beers for Ellie and Jesse, and a vodka cran for Dina. You followed her example, sighing when you looked at the price.

You stood there by the counter, sipping your drink, unsure of what to do now. Should you go straight to the dance floor? How did this work?

Dina slid in next to you, smirking. “Hey. Sorry about Ellie. She can be a real asshole.” She and Jesse were off to the side, not too far away, but out of earshot due to the noise.

“It’s fine. I’m glad you guys invited me. I guess I just wish I knew why she hates me so much.”

Dina tilted her head to the side. “Oh, I don’t think she hates you. She’s just kind of weird around new people. She’s been stressed about her job, and I guess she wanted to unwind today? Then Jesse invites you to come with us, which I obviously have no problem with—but now she has to deal with a new person. You know, judging by what she said about your id, she probably just thought you were uptight. And after what you said about being from a small conservative town and all, she probably thought you were conservative too. But I don’t think you’d move here, or be here”—she waved a hand around.—“if you were.” She smirked. “She’ll warm up to you though, I think.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that…” You laugh.

Dina’s brows shoot up. “What, is there something I don’t know about?”

“Uh, well, it’s nothing really. It’s just…”

“Uh huh…Go on.”

“Well, when the bouncer let me in with my fake id, I kind of looked back at Ellie and smiled. And uh. Shrugged.”

Dina turned to you, slapped her hand on the counter and laughed. “Oh my God! Fuck, that’s funny. I mean, it wouldn’t be a big deal with most people, but Ellie? Yeah, that definitely pissed her off. Totally deserved, though. I would’ve killed to see her face.”

You flashed a smile. “It was pretty damn great.”

“Damn, y/n! I didn’t know you were ballsy like that. But you know what? She respects ballsy girls. She just has to get over her pride first.”

“Oh, I imagine that’s going to be hard for her.”

Dina laughed. “Yup.” She took a sip of her drink, then looked off to the side and raised her brows. “Look who’s already getting down.”

You turned your face to see what she was talking about. Ellie was on the dance floor next to a pretty girl, gazing at her with a look you hadn’t seen on her face before. It wasn’t exactly of pure lust, but there was definitely something there. Her eyes were crawling all over the girl’s body. You felt a pang of jealousy, which pissed you off. You were supposed to be over your little crush already. You wanted to be.

“She hooks up with a lot of girls, huh?”

“Oh yeah. Leaves them all pent up for her, then ditches them. It’s pretty shitty, but I guess she never promised them anything in the first place.” Dina finished her drink in one big gulp and grimaced just the slightest bit. “These days she’s not really the dating type.”

You were almost done with your drink, and still a little bit buzzed off the wine. Curiosity was getting the best of you. It also helped that Dina was so nice, and definitely not sober as well. Two drunk people just made each other drunker. “Bad experience with an ex?” You asked.

“Oh yeah. That and she’s always so busy with work, I guess she just doesn’t see the point.”

You turned to the counter so Ellie and the girl were out of your sight then finished the vodka cran. “I guess being a tattoo artist must take up a lot of your time.”

“That and her side gig.” You looked at her, and she winked. “I’ll let her tell you about that.” She glanced at both of your empty glasses and pouted. “Wanna get a tequila shot then go dance?” Her pout turned into a wide grin.

You mirrored it. “Hell yeah.”

-

You’d lost track of how long you’d been dancing. Between the move and the new job, it’d been a while since you’d had alcohol, and your tolerance was not what it usually was. Which was perfect to you. You were just the right amount of drunk, enough to have fun and not care about whether or not you looked silly and not enough to the point where you felt out of control or sick.

The music was great to dance to, and the speakers were of course the best you’d ever heard. The notes seemed to almost reverberate inside you. As the music got more intense you raised your hands and jumped to the beat, then accidentally bumped hard into somebody.

“Shit—“ You said, but swallowed the sorry when you saw who it was.

An annoyed looking Ellie was standing there, right next to the girl from before. She gaped back at you when she noticed that Ellie had stopped moving. The tension was palpable.

“Hey, Elliee.” Dina danced closer. “Having fun?”

“I need a smoke, actually.” She started to move away without the girl.

“Ooh, same!” Without asking, Dina grabbed your hand and led you to the outdoor smoking area.

The smell of cigarette smoke hit you as soon as you stepped outside. You felt a little embarrassed to be there, but Dina had been the one to drag you out. And a drunk cig did sound amazing at that moment. Dina waved to Ellie, who was lying back against the wall lighting a cigarette.

“Hey. You know where Jesse is?” Dina said.

“I saw him talking to some girl at the bar on the way here. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Cool.” Dina placed her hands behind her back and smiled sweetly. “Can we bum one off you?” Ellie pushed off the wall and took her pack of Marlboro reds from out of her pocket, letting Dina take one. “Remind me why you never buy your own?”

“Because,” she began. “I don’t wanna get hooked like you.” She looked back at you while she took Ellie’s lighter and began to light the cig. “Shit, I forgot to ask if you even smoke. I guess that living here you kind of just assume everyone does?”

Ellie scoffed.

“I do,” You said, ignoring her. “I usually bum cigs from my friends too. I’m more of a smoker when drinking.”

“Right! That’s the best way to do it.” Dina blew the puff of smoke upwards so it wouldn’t hit your face, then passed it to you. “So, y/n. Anyone in there caught your eye?”

You smiled sheepishly, taking a drag. “Uh, not yet. I wish.”

“Well, what are you into? Boys, girls, your type…you know.”

Ellie. You were into girls like Ellie. You bit your lip. She was peering at you, tip of her cigarette burning orange as she took a drag. If you started describing your type, saying you liked masc, tatted up girls with baggy clothes, how would that look?

“Um…” You started. “Girls.” Ellie’s brows raised just the slightest bit before she looked away. How’s that for conservative?

Dina leaned back into the wall. “A win for us! And what else?” If you didn’t know better, you’d think she was flirting with you. But it seemed to you that that was just her style, friendly and flirty at once.

“Um. I like…girls who aren’t that feminine.” You hoped that was less obvious than straight up saying masc.

Dina smiled without teeth, brows slightly raised. Fuck, she was onto you, wasn’t she? You hadn’t exactly been that discrete, poking around about Ellie’s love life. And what must she be thinking about you being into a girl that had only treated you like shit? But then again, Dina seemed like she wasn’t the judging type. In fact, she seemed quite open-minded when it came to that stuff…And like she enjoyed the drama. You had to admit that so did you. You wouldn’t be into girls like Ellie if you didn’t.

“Well then, y/n. Let’s go find you a girl.”

-

The girl Dina had pointed out to you had hair cropped close to her head, and wore black from head to toe. You did in fact find her attractive. Not as much as Ellie, you thought, before pushing that concept away. Ellie didn’t like you. She’d made that clear enough. Besides, you were drunk and wanted to have a good time.

It was that very same state of being drunk that gave you enough courage to come up to the girl and ask her if she wanted to dance. She said yes with a cute smile on her face, and the two of you made your way onto the dance floor. You were a bit shy at first, but she just kept grinning at you as if she was so into you that you eventually gained enough confidence to dance the way you wanted, moving your body without reservations.

At some point, you noticed Ellie staring.

She was at the bar with Dina and Jesse, who had appeared out of nowhere and was currently drinking a beer with her. You could see his mouth move as he talked to her, but she just sat there leaning against the counter, looking at you with narrowed eyes. You couldn’t parse what her expression meant. But you knew one thing, that she was watching what you were doing.

You stepped in closer to the girl, touching her shoulders, running your hands over her clavicle. The both of you started dancing slower. She put her hands on your waist. You got in close, so close she couldn’t tell where your eyes were really at. You moved your body lazily, deliberately, tilting your head this way and that as the girl moved her hands down your body to toy with the hem of your dress.

Ellie kept staring, not once deviating her gaze.

pt.3

-

a/n - heyy so... sorry about forgetting to warn you guys about the slow burn. i'm planning on getting the next chapter done and up tomorrow tho, and I promise it's going to be good ;)

also, do nyc clubs have outdoor smoking areas like they do where I live? idk. let's just pretend they for sure do...

[elizabethemerald]

Don't Sneak up on People with Swords

@im-totally-not-an-alien-2 made a prompt about Danny sneaking up on Jason Todd and @sky00asara made a comment in the tags about what would happen if Danny did that to Talia. So here is my version of that! Enjoy.

Talia al Ghul watched her beloved from afar. He was out, again patrolling his city for those he considered wrong doers. Her son was by his side. She scowled at how Damian’s fighting style had changed, softened in the company of her beloved. Despite her love for the man under the cowl, he had a tremendous ability to take even the most ruthless of killers and change them to spare the undeserving. He had even tried it with her. 

She was hidden on the roof of an abandoned tower nearby. The tower had succumbed to fire and was now condemned until the city got around to destroying it properly. For now it made the perfect place for her to observe her beloved and her son work undisturbed. 

“Excuse me?” 

Talia whirled, drawing her blade as she spun. Her blade moved fast enough to almost cut the air itself yet the small shape ducked under her stroke and back-pedaled quickly to move out her range. 

“Jeez! Why is everyone in this city so jumpy!” 

The voice more than anything made her realize that the person who had somehow snuck close enough was an actual child. Their black hair and blue eyes made her wonder if this was another of her beloved’s adoptees. Except surely this boy was too young to catch Bruce’s eye? 

“Well maybe you should not sneak up on people?” Talia hissed, her voice soft yet stern. To say nothing of how a child who couldn’t be older than five had snuck up on her at all. 

“Well maybe you shouldn’t brood on the roof of my home!” The child snarked back, just like one of the Bat’s brood would, completely unafraid of the blade still in her hand. Talia raised an eyebrow at him then looked around at the burnt skeleton of the building they were standing on. 

“This building is not fit for human occupation.”

“Neither was the last place I lived.” He said dismissively. “This place hasn’t even killed me yet, so it’s practically a paradise.” 

She was tempted to take the child’s words as sarcasm, yet something in the way he spoke made her think he meant it more truthfully. 

“You’ve died before?” Talia asked. She relaxed her hold on her blade, allowing it to rest at her side. 

“Oh yeah, I die all the time.” He said, then he looked at her curiously tilting his head first one way, then another. “You’ve died too, huh?” 

She nodded, now examining him closely, looking for the signs she would recognize. She could see the hint of a scar on the boy’s palm that might have caused a death. 

“What is it with this town that so many people have died and come back?” The boy asked, apparently rhetorically as he didn’t let her answer. “First the stabby Robin, then the stabby Batgirl, then Batman, and even Red Hood. It’s like everyone I run into is contaminated.” 

Talia’s eyes widened. 

“You can sense those who have utilized the Lazarus Pits?” She would have to inform her father about this child. He could put the entire League of Assassins at risk. The child before her just shrugged. 

“I have no idea what that is. Red Hood mentioned some kind of pit as well, but I’ve never seen anything like that. I just know y’all are contaminated with ectoplasm, though not enough to make a core.” 

“What is this… ectoplasm?” Another name for the Lazarus Waters? Had there perhaps been a Pit outside of League control? In the midwest somewhere based on the boy’s accent. 

“Oh it’s this stuff.” He held his hand out and Talia couldn’t help keep her expression of shock withdrawn despite all her training as his hand filled with the glowing green light of the Pits. He held the Pit Water in his hand then tossed the glowing orb to his other hand in a half juggle as if he weren’t carrying the League's greatest secret and weapon. 

Nevermind telling her father about this child, he could never learn of him. If Ras had the power this child had under his control the world would never survive. There was only one option. She needed to train this child to wield this strength. With the stealth he displayed in sneaking up on her and his power over the Pits themselves he could make an assassin like the world had never seen. He could be the next Head of the Demon under her guidance. She knelt down to the boy’s level, slipping her sword back away as she did so. 

“Tell me, young one. Are you living in this death trap of a building all by yourself?” 

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’ve got it taken care of. I know I’m little, but that just means people are less likely to notice me. I’m able to steal all the food I need from that big box store down the street.” 

“Oh of that I have no doubt. My name is Talia al Ghul. What’s yours?” 

“Hmm. I’m Danny.” The boy seemed hesitant to trust her, which to be perfectly honest was probably a very smart thing to do, but at least she had a name for this gift of Lazarus. 

“Danny, how would you like to come live with me? You won’t have to steal any more, or worry about food ever again, and I could train you how to fight even better than the Bats.” 

He narrowed his eyes at her, looking her over closely. 

“Would I get a sword?” 

“If a sword is what you want, then once you were trained in its use I would acquire one for you.”

Danny looked like he was about to nod, but then he froze, his head tilting to the side as if he was listening to something. His eyes widened and Talia tensed. 

“Uh-oh. Fruit Loop incoming. I gotta go.” 

Talia half turned as she heard the sound of one of her beloved’s grappling lines catching on the building’s edge. By the time she had turned back to face him, Danny had completely vanished. She hadn’t even heard him leave. She stood and scowled as her beloved landed on the rooftop next to her. 

“Talia.” He grunted at her, glaring all the while. 

“Beloved. Must you ruin every nice thing in my life?” Talia snarled back. The boy, Danny, had the gift of Lazarus at his beck and call and Batman had scared him off. 

Bruce looked momentarily stunned at her fury, but quickly hid it behind his mask. However Talia couldn’t care less about her beloved right now. She just needed to lose him so she could return to find the boy. The boy who would change the world with his power. 

[knavesflames]

chat this contains sh DO NYAT read if uncomfy

putting this in ur ask box cos im desperate for it to be written on my knees screaming

genshin girlies tracting their s/os skin where they see scars while u cuddle naked maybe after a sesh or even just skin to skin cuddling and they speak softly telling you you did a good job and everything and even kissing them AUGH HEHEHRHEHEGRGEGRGRGRGRBDJFJSLANHAHA

Hi <3 sorry this took me so long to get to! I have had a whirlwind of health struggles both mental and physical but I am trying to Lock In again. I’m sorry you went through such tough times :( I understand, and I get the struggle, if you get what I’m implying. Stay safe and healthy fr<3

Word count: 867

Content: sh implied in the past but it’s not graphic, just briefly mentioned, talk of scars, fluff

tw utc

Arlecchino has a rule— as blunt as she may be, she isn’t as cruel as the world likes to make her out to be. Judgemental, though she is, she refuses to comment on something that a person cannot change. She deems it basic decency (it is), but even some of the most polite people she knows don’t hesitate before speaking, or, well, looking. Despite the discomfort she knows you experience when people’s eyes wander and dwell on the exact thing you don’t want them to look at, she herself has never done so. Curious, she has to admit she has been, as would most be if they had a girlfriend with such marks littering her skin. Purely out of concern and care does she wish to know the story of what led you to make such decisions. She does not ask. Arlecchino herself has scars from countless hours of training herself to execute ‘Mother’, ones she keeps hidden under the fabric of her pristine white suit. Ones only you have seen, during moments of intimacy when the night is dark and the air in the room is so suffocatingly warm. You know her story, so you don’t ask.

It seems to be a cycle. She sees them, says nothing, and holds back from doing what she’d really like to do for fear of being insensitive or revealing the softness she keeps hidden. The marks are hidden again, and neither of you say a word. In truth, they shouldn’t be the main focus of the conversation and she understands that, but a part of her yearns to know you, and to understand the parts of you that you’ve refused to reveal.

On the days she catches you staring just a little too longingly at That Drawer in the kitchen, or the days where you seem a little more miserable than usual when you glance at your skin, she’s sure to pull you away from the mirror or the kitchen under the guise of needing you to look over some of the plans for the orphanage, or needing to go shopping. She’s so good at doing so, you don’t even notice she’s done it until hours later.

One particular night, after multiple hours of pleasure and mumbled words of affection, she decides to be bold. Hesitantly, her blackened hand reaches to rest on your thigh. The act itself is nothing new, with you, Arlecchino is a very touchy person, always reminding both her and you that you’re hers. Her thumb however, strokes over one particular scar she’s eyed for a while. It’s a feather light touch, testing the waters, and she’s perfectly prepared to lift her hand away should you indicate as such. You do not. You lean into her touch, almost, like you’ve been waiting for her to get comfortable enough to touch them. You become lost in your own thoughts, and you become unaware of how much time passes before her voice cuts through them, as stern as always, but softer than usual.

“Is this recent?” She hums in slight disapproval as her thumb grazes over it, but she says nothing more, which, if you’re honest, you’re grateful for.

“I had a moment,” you mutter in reply, your head buried into her neck. Her perfume still adorns her skin, and you wonder how expensive said perfume must be if it’s been able to last such a long time, and through such strenuous activity. “I realised and I stopped.”

“Good.” A breath, and her voice lowers until it’s barely louder than a murmur. The sincerity is there though, and her lips move against your hair. “I am proud of you. You have done well.”

“I have not done well, it is—“

“You would not have stopped four years ago. Or two, for that matter. Any progress is better than no progress.” Arlecchino’s voice is gentle, yet unwavering. When you go to protest again, she can practically see the words form before your voice can carry them. “Of course I know how often you were doing it. I am no fool. I said nothing because begging someone to stop doing something when they do not wish to stop is a fruitless endeavour and harmful for both parties in the long run. I just wished you would speak to me if you needed.”

You decide to continue letting her trace every scar she finds on your body. She traces random shapes with the tip of her nail (lucky for you, she filed them a while ago. For.. other reasons). In a moment of affection, she traces little hearts over each one, never missing one, and never giving one more care than another. Both of you stay silent, but the words don’t need to be spoken, and any words that did, have already been said. Arlecchino sees no need in making you uncomfortable when she knows you’ll speak if you need.

Speak you do, eventually, and she remains silent as she listens, giving the occasional nod or ‘mm’ to reassure you that she’s listening. She files all of the information away into her mind, and vows to herself she won’t forget a single word. Arlecchino vows she will love you always.

[hearts4werka]

You Look So Sweet

Summary: You and Chris are enemies but behind closed doors you’re secretly dating and one day while you’re waiting for him to get back from hockey practice he does something you didn’t expect… Genre: FLUFF, secret relationship, enemies to lovers, hockey player, cuddles, cute couple, wholesome, heart-warming content Warnings: mild cursing but besides it’s pure fluffy, wholesome and cute content

Me and Chris are dating… but secretly. To the public eye we’re enemies with more tension and hidden flirting than actual enemies should have, everyone always said we should just cut the enemy bullshit because of the tension between us, one day we did but decided to keep it a secret for now.

We always give the public a great show at making us look like we hate each others guts and have pity public fights with each other but when we’re out sight we still bicker but in a different, more flirty and teasing way.

| - 🍂 - |

I was hanging out at the triplets house today and waiting for Chris get home from hockey practice, Nick and Matt were in the living room with me as we talked and occasionally laughed at one of Nicks rants.

The hour of Chris’s arrival comes around the corner and I make myself a bit more comfortable on the couch, laying back and continuing to talk with the others until we hear the front door open and a tired Chris come out from behind them.

Rolling my eyes at his arrival to keep up our ‘enemies’ act, when he’s dropped everything he needed to be made his way straight to me, laying down on top me. Snuggling into my chest as he makes himself comfortable on top of me, Nick and Matt looking at us both with a bit of a confused but also an expected look.

I glance down at Chris and my hand slithers up to his hair, tangling my fingers into the brown locks of his fluffy hairy. A small smile forms on my face as I notice how cute he looks all tired laying on top of me and snuggled into my chest but I quickly cover it up from the others.

He looks so sweet right now.

“Looks like you guys decided to drop the act?” I hear Nick ask, my eyes rip away from Chris almost dozing off and nudge him on the shoulder so he’ll finally realize we currently have an audience.

He groans and lazily lifts his head from my chest and looks around the room with half-lidded eyes but they pop open with realization when he finally gets back to his senses, seeing the knowing looks on his triplet brothers face.

"oh shit..." Hearing him mutter under his breath I softly chuckle at how clueless he was this whole time and just relaxing on top of me this whole time while the guys just watched.

"I called that shit, I knew there was something happening between them" Matt states looking at Nick like they planned on us being together.

"Was it seriously that obvious?" I ask, expecting only one answer thats probably the one that has the most truth in it. Chris doesn't really like to sneak around so sometimes he would just not care if one night he left a very evident hickey on my neck, not thinking of the consequences of that small gesture.

They both agree and say "yeah for sure" "as clear as day" and I chuckle as Chris grumbles something under his breath and buries his face back into my chest, I place a small kiss on his forehead as he sowly dozes off from how tired hes become after a long day of hockey practice and all he wanted to do is to cuddle with his now public girlfriend.

@hearts4wertka

authors note: writing this made me feel all fuzzy inside, this is a bit rushed and short but I decided to write this to reward you guys for being patient with me and pt.3 of missing, love y’all so much 💋

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[shizuturnspages]

UR NEWEST POST ABOUT BREAKING UP WITH DILUC??AHBAJWJSJSNSB YESS. Its pure perfection. I have nothing else to say. What happens after his darling wakes up tho?

I'm so happy you liked it <3

After his darling wakes up, this is what might happen:

The world comes back in hazy fragments: a dull ache throbbing in the back of your head, the sensation of rough, unyielding fabric against your wrists, the muffled sound of crackling embers nearby. You blink, slowly coming to, the dim light casting a warm glow that feels strangely… comforting. But then, as the fog clears, a new feeling settles in—a sharp jolt of realization, of panic. Your wrists are bound.

Eyes flying open, you see the familiar walls of what must be a room within Dawn Winery, the deep red decor and soft flicker of candlelight unmistakably Diluc’s style. It’s not your room, though; this is somewhere tucked away, a space meant to stay hidden, secluded from prying eyes. You strain against the ropes, the roughness biting into your skin as you test your limits, only to find them hopelessly secure.

A soft rustling pulls your attention. Across the room, a shadow stirs, and out of the darkness, Diluc steps forward, a subtle, intense smile lingering on his lips. There’s a warmth in his eyes, but it’s a smouldering warmth—possessive, unyielding, and somehow all the more terrifying for it.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he murmurs, his voice low and gentle. He crosses the room, his steady gaze never leaving yours. In his hand, he holds a small cloth—a fresh one this time, free from the faint scent that lingered the last time he put you under. “I was starting to think you’d sleep forever.”

You shift, straining against your restraints, but his eyes flick to your wrists, a frown creasing his brow. “Careful,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “Those ropes weren’t meant to hurt you, but if you struggle like that, you’ll only hurt yourself.”

The words should sound like a warning, but in his low, velvety tone, they’re almost soothing. He reaches out, fingertips brushing over your wrist as if to reassure you, his touch lingering just a bit too long.

“Diluc,” you whisper, voice hoarse from disuse and tension. “What… what are you doing? This isn’t—”

He cuts you off with a gentle finger pressed against your lips, his gaze darkening slightly as he tilts his head. “Shh… I’m only doing what’s necessary. You kept talking about leaving, and I… I can’t allow that. I won’t lose you.” His voice dips, the determination behind it like a steel blade wrapped in silk. “You belong here, with me. Don’t you understand that?”

He moves closer, sitting beside you on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You’ve been restless,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing the side of your face. “But I can give you everything you need, right here. There’s no need for you to go anywhere else.”

A rush of fear runs through you, but there’s an undeniable tension in the air as he leans closer, his face mere inches from yours. The warmth radiating off him, the rough timbre of his voice—it sends a confusing, almost dizzying sensation down your spine. And somehow, despite everything, there’s a part of you that finds it difficult to look away.

“What are you… going to do with me?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, though it comes out barely a whisper. His gaze flickers over your face, studying you, as if weighing every word, every breath.

Diluc’s lips curl into a soft smile, but there’s nothing comforting in it. “I’m going to take care of you,” he replies, his voice so sure, so unwavering. “You won’t have to worry about anything. I’ll keep you safe, away from anyone else who might try to take you from me.”

He leans in, the warmth of his breath brushing over your cheek as he speaks. “I’d go to any length for you. Don’t you see that?” His voice is barely a whisper, yet it sends a shiver down your spine, his words laced with an intensity that’s as thrilling as it is frightening.

As he pulls back slightly, his hand slides to your shoulder, lingering there as his thumb brushes gentle circles over your skin. The gesture is almost tender, yet his grip is unyielding, a silent reminder that he’s in control.

“You’ve always been so stubborn,” he continues, his eyes never leaving yours. “But I think, deep down, you know this is where you belong. Here, with me.” His gaze drops to your lips, lingering there for a beat too long before he looks back into your eyes, his expression unreadable.

In that moment, you realize there’s no reasoning with him, no convincing him otherwise. He’s made up his mind, his devotion twisted into something unrecognizable, something possessive and consuming. And as much as you want to deny it, there’s a part of you that’s captivated by his intensity, by the way he looks at you as if you’re the only thing in his world.

With a soft sigh, he reaches out, tracing his fingers along your cheek, his touch deceptively gentle. “You’ve driven me to this, you know,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible, as if he’s confessing a dark, shameful secret. “You kept pushing me away, kept trying to leave. And I… I can’t let that happen.”

His hand drifts to your chin, tilting your face up so you’re forced to meet his gaze, his eyes burning with a fierce, unwavering determination. “I’ve given you everything,” he says softly, his tone carrying a hint of vulnerability. “And yet… it was never enough, was it?”

“Diluc, please,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “You don’t have to do this. I won’t—”

But he shakes his head, cutting you off with a sad, almost wistful smile. “I know you’re afraid,” he says, his fingers brushing over your skin in a tender, almost reverent touch. “But in time, you’ll see that this is for the best. You’ll come to understand… even if I have to keep you here forever.”

His thumb brushes over your lower lip, lingering there as his eyes darken, a hunger flickering in their depths that sends a shiver through you. He leans in, his face so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, his lips barely a whisper away from yours. “One day,” he murmurs, his voice a low, dangerous promise. “You’ll thank me for this. You’ll see that no one else could ever care for you the way I do.”

With that, he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a heartbeat longer than necessary. It’s a gesture that would have once been comforting, reassuring—but now, it only serves as a chilling reminder of the depth of his obsession, of the lengths he’s willing to go to keep you by his side.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, his voice a soft, possessive murmur. “And no one else will ever have you.”

And as he pulls back, his hand resting possessively on your shoulder, you realize with a sinking feeling that he means every word. In his twisted, unwavering devotion, he’s claimed you as his own, bound you to him in a way that goes beyond reason or sanity. And as you look into his eyes, you know that there’s no escape from the hold he has over you—a hold that’s as fierce and unbreakable as the man himself.

[nights-at-crystarium]

Fragments - episodes 47-52 author notes

You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!

Time to recap the first proper wolgraha miniarc. See what you might’ve missed, or simply enjoy the extra content in form of my rambling.

47 stands out as a bit disconnected, floaty, introspective episode fully focusing on Exarch’s pov. I’ve scattered some breadcrumbs for him throughout the entire comic, time to pick those up. He may be an oblivious fool in certain moments, but I believe he wouldn’t keep insisting on staying deaf and blind when evidence’s shoved in his face. So, this moment of recollection and rethinking marks the start of the canon divergence, all of his future actions are colored by this.

Vivi has a dire effect on some people even without trying to manipulate them.

The composition forms a star here :3c

This panel should make their likeness even more obvious, they’re mirror reflections, albeit deliciously twisted ones. Also, the V sign is literally something that Vivi. Just. Does.

Exarch's heard from Vivi himself that they might be the same, Urianger literally tells him to go to a mirror and ponder, but when he does, and tries to look a bit more like he imagines Vivi, he can't stand what he sees in the mirror. They still aren't the same in his heart of hearts, even if reality itself tries to prove otherwise.

Hidden Angst Time! I can only hope that most readers are familiar with the flashback bubbles by now, and that this panel reads as it should: Feo Ul embraces Exarch while pointing out that they’re also being ostracized by their kind. Though the ultimate fae wisdom lies in accepting something the way it is, and just not caring too much.

More under the cut~ 

*rewinds all the way back to episode 1* hehe

“Does a hero have to be happy about his job” is one of my personal fav lines so far, I think it hits hard, pointing not only at Vivi, but at Exarch as well, and the visual supports it. I think this encapsulates Exarch’s ideology.

Exarch’s GASP could be interpreted as saying GASP out loud, which only makes it funnier.

Vivi carefully plans his entrance in order to make the atmosphere less formal. Approaching normally just wouldn’t do it. Also he just feels relaxed and safe to be silly. Remember how lowkey he was since his arrival to the First? His behavior all but contradicted what I said and showed about him in the ARR arc and outside of the comic.

Well, that’s in the past now. He’s finished assessing the situation and concluded that it’s okay to be more himself.

Feo Ul's upset that Exarch used his “radar” to detect Vivi’s ambush while they’d just used a similar ability to make sure that no emet-selchs are around.

If you catch a flirty vibe from Vivi in this episode, you're correct.

Vivi when he's remotely interested in a man:

My flavor of lampshading the obvious exposition dump. Oh Exarch, you asked for this, no take-backsies.

Another few hard-hitting questions from Exarch. It's easy to gloss over these, but if you slow down and think, it's decent angst material. Has anyone ever been concerned about Vivi's feelings, or was it more convenient to look away, even if intently, even if both sides knew they're better off not talking about that, for there's indeed no wol replacement. What good does acknowledging the situation if you can’t change it.

This's Vivi's memory, thus he appears small against the looming forms of the world leaders. Rigid, formal, impersonal. Raha's memories of the Ironworks seem to have a different vibe, despite all the parallels of the duty imposed by the world on one special guy. Also yeah I do wanna make my own version of the 8UC timeline and characters someday, for now these are just random characters that I consider as placeholders. And the dunmeshi cameo x’D

Yes, he mocks the people that he's saved. He's VERY frustrated with his job.

I offer you a fun game: spot all the mannerisms that make Vivi and Emet so alike. I genuinely never thought about this until this year, while this scene's pretty damn old, i.e. Vivi's always been like this, it precedes my Emet brainrot.

I swear that this line also was there before my Emet brainrot, but now it makes for a hilarious kind of foreshadowing.

You could already tell how "fit" he is for solving trolley problems.

This’s his “oops I talked too much shit” face.

The way Exarch just quietly TURNS and LOOKS at Vivi cracks me up. Don't undermine the tone with random jokes, dammit. But is this random? I’ve already analyzed this moment somewhere but for the sake of keeping important things in one place: they wrestle for control here. Exarch winds up for something serious, while Vivi wants to steer the convo towards more casual. It does somewhat lower the tension, though Exarch doesn’t relinquish his lead in the convo.

This doesn’t save him from becoming Frank forever from here on.

This miniarc’s rich with raw, hard-hitting words, so I’ll bring this up again.

We’re finally getting the explanation and context for a lot of previous episodes:

And the following episodes only help driving this point home. Vivi already sees the First as a viable escape from the Source with all of its shitty people and endless problems.

"This's why I... enjoy my time away from the Source": even at this seemingly high level of trust between them Vivi won't openly tell Exarch about his plans to stay here, a variable he doesn't want to become a risk.

Yes, he does an entirely calculated and strategic flop. A literal thirst trap.

Meme provided by my discord server:

Vivi casts provoke, it's..... not effective

^ This’s one of my personal fav exarchs I’ve ever drawn DADDY PLS

A panel that everyone loved to bits :>

I pair angst with other flavors to make it fun and non-repetitive. It's not "boohoo I can never kiss my hero, the world will end if I do, I'm so aggravated with myself", it's the hooded Exarch (duty) being mad at the unhooded Exarch (human), and delivering the same notion in a fun exchange. You can't help but laugh at the comical chibi violence, at the same time you acknowledge that it's a pretty fucked up act of suppressing one's innate human desires.

It's not a date, they just sit and talk <- the water in which Exarch is being slowly boiled.

I rarely talk about the visuals, but here I intended to make it look like a magical moment frozen in time. It's immersive, whimsical, full of color and movement. Despite the perceived warmth, the composition splits them apart, they're alone together. It’s still Raha’s pov, Vivi doesn’t seem to have any fond memories of the Source at all, we only hear about the past from his current jaded self.

An in-universe acknowledgment of the ARR arc lasting only 11 episodes x’D Though it’s all by design, it was meaningful only to Raha, while being a forgettable blip in time for Vivi.

Episode 52 opens with.... *drumroll*

NIP SLIP

I lovingly rendered that nip and I’ll make you look at it.

Ibuprofen meme would be the first thing that comes to mind, but consider the better/worse caption: "come to daddy". In all seriousness though, it’s a cool panel that I wanted to appreciate again. This IS Vivi’s pov.

The grimy beaten up Vivi creates questions that are answered in episode 53, which is yet to be released publicly at the moment of writing this. Some episodes, like 52-53 and 42-43, come in pairs that only make sense together due to the non-linear storytelling.

Yes this’s Aymeric, no I won’t say anything else :’> One thing that’s worth noting is the face Vivi makes here. And the distant, emotionless tone with which he recalls the moment of his own near-death.

Lemme spell it out even more plainly: Vivi romanticizes the moment he almost died. Exarch just happened to be present in that moment, and Vivi latched on to him as someone who would grant him escape, freedom, peace.

“A kindly wizard from fairytales”. I regret to inform you that we have two delusional fucks on our hands. Both see each other as some kinda dreamt up, idealized, mythical figures.

This miniarc isn’t over yet, but I’m wrapping up the recap here. Thanks for reading till the end~

[steddiealltheway]

Thinking about Steve on this Mother’s Day.

He comes home and notices a familiar van parked in his driveway, but no one is in it. It’s strangely eerie, and Steve knows that Eddie usually waits for him, but maybe he’s in his backyard.

Steve goes to his front door and tries to unlock it but notices it’s already been unlocked. Okay. Time to get the bat.

He runs back to his car and grabs the nail bat out of his trunk. Maybe Eddie’s just playing a prank on him, but he can never be too sure. He makes his way back to the front door and slowly opens it.

Oh.

There are balloons covering his place and he can hear shushes and some giggles. “Hello?” Steve asks playing along a bit. But he also wonders who all is there.

“Happy Mother’s Day!” A chorus of people shout uncoordinated as they jump out from behind things.

Steve takes a moment to take in all the kids, Eddie, and even Robin staring at him in anticipation.

Steve doesn’t know what to do except laugh. He’s close to tears as everyone approaches him and Eddie decides to turn the moment into a group hug.

“How did you get into my house?” Steve asks as he squeezed in the middle.

Dustin replies loudly over everyone else, “Eddie broke into your window! It was so cool!”

As the group hug breaks apart with a few people - Max - pretending like they’re too cool for it, Steve makes eye contact with Eddie and who looks as proud as he was when he hot wired the RV. He’ll have to lecture him again about not breaking into his house, but that will come later.

“How did you guys get out of your own Mother’s Day celebrations?” Steve asks.

“We told them that we were keeping our gifts for them at your house and had to stop here before coming back,” Dustin says excitedly.

“Hey, Dingus, that wasn’t your plan. Stop taking credit for it,” Robin says looking like she’s holding back from hitting him on the back of the head. She turns to Steve and continues, “Don’t worry, the gifts stayed at Eddie’s house before being moved to mine after careful consideration.”

“I told Joyce what we were doing,” El says looking at Will with some concern before turning back to Steve. “But she made you a cake.”

“That’s where it came from?” Mike asks. “Shit, she’s gonna tell my mom. She’s going to tell all of our moms.”

“Shit! Abort mission!” Dustin yells and runs and hugs Steve. “Bye Steve! Happy Mother’s Day!”

The other kids run out the door saying quick goodbyes to Steve. When the door closes, Steve looks back at Robin and Eddie and asks, “Did they grab the gifts for their moms?”

Eddie and Robin look at each other then rush to the front door and open it in time to see the kids raiding Eddie’s van and getting their bikes out of the bushes they were hidden in. “I’m going to say yes,” Robin says.

“Be careful!” Steve yells as they bike away somehow managing to hold their presents and biking at the same time. As El climbs on the back on Will’s bike and they take off, Steve sighs, “When do I have to tell them they’re getting too old for that?”

“When you teach El how to ride a bike, Mom,” Robin laughs and nudges Steve. “But hey, I have to head out, too,” she hugs Steve and says, “Too bad there isn’t an Aunt’s Day.”

“I’ll drive you back,” Eddie tells Robin as she salutes him and walks to his car.

Steve does his signature mom stance and looks at Eddie. “Did you plan this just so you could break into my house?”

“Hey, who said I planned this,” Eddie says with a wide grin. “But if I did, then no, that was not the sole intention of this. Plus, Dustin was the first to say we should briefly celebrate Mother’s Day with you, so it really wasn’t all me-”

Steve cuts off Eddie with a hug. “Thank you,” he whispers as Eddie squeezes him a bit tighter. When they pull away they stare at each other for a few moments.

A loud car horn interrupts their moment. “Come on love birds, I need to go!” Robin yells.

Steve curses her under his breath then smiles at Eddie. “Better head out.”

“I’ll be back after I drop her off. And hey, there’s a surprise for you in your room. Happy Mother’s Day,” Eddie says with a bright grin and walks towards his car.

“Wait!” Steve says and hesitates as Eddie turns around, “Does this mean we have to celebrate Father’s Day with you?”

Eddie laughs loudly as Robin groans. “Absolutely!” Eddie replies as his laughter dies down and he gets in the van.

Steve waves at them as they take off. Once they’re out of sight, he takes off up the stairs to his room. He opens the door and spots a pile of poorly wrapped gifts on his bed then a note that says “CAKE IS IN THE FRIDGE” with a poorly drawn smiley face on it.

Steve takes a moment to collect himself and he whispers under his breath, “You’re not going to cry about this.” He pinches his nose and smiles as his vision slightly blurs.

Even with how brief the visit was, it absolutely made Steve’s day. “Happy Mother’s Day to me,”Steve laughs as a tear escapes down his face.

He really loves his kids.

[mins-fins]

hold me tight

&&. yes it took you a good couple of years, but it's nothing making out in a pool can't fix!

pairing: na jaemin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, sorta kinda sorta suggestive

warnings: kissing (is that a warning?)

word count: 1.4k

notes: this is a snippet from a longer form thing that i have given up on, but anyway, who else loves na jaemin?? if we ignore the fact that i only learned how to swim like one week ago….. i really like pools now that im not almost drowning every few business minutes 😁 i also really like na jaemin, and my last nana work was angst so i have to make it up to you all ⭐️ also, sort of kissing writing practice, it's terrible, don't focus on it pls xoxo

your arms are crossed as you slide the glass door open.

"jaemin".

"hm?"

you sigh, a heavy breath leaving your lips. he giggles, escaping your scathing stare by diving under the water. your corresponding groan gives him yet another thing to smile about, even when he's attempting to hide from you in chenle's pool. "how the fuck are you swimming at eleven pm?"

when jaemin rises again, he snickers, somehow able to keep his composure after almost inhaling a bunch of chlorine. "it's fun, y/n, why do you nag me so much?"

"i'm not nagging, i just need to make sure you don't get hypothermia".

he pouts like a child being punished. "your boring y/n" he sings, smile still tugging at his lips as he lays on his back, basking in the water that keeps him afloat.

you again sigh, rolling your eyes as you sit down at the edge of the pool, legs crossed. "and you act like a child, jaemin".

though he would usually feign offense at such words, it seems a switch flips in his head, and he swims his way over to you, leaning his arms against the ground you sit on. "you love me, though".

you chuckle, now that's amusing. "do i?"

jaemin hums, nodding, smile unmoving as traces shapes into your leg. "you do, that's why you aren't snitching on me to chenle".

you scrunch your nose at the feeling of his wet finger on your body. "what are you gonna do if i don't follow that?"

"strangle you, maybe".

the threat is said with such certainty that you laugh, because there's a hidden sense of playfulness behind the warning. "you can't strangle me, you need me".

he scoffs, pinching your knee and chuckling at the yelp he receives. "you sound like jeno".

"is that an insult?"

"you two are just as desperate as each other, so.. yeah!"

your eye roll is stuck to you at this point, maybe you simply expect such words from your best friend, because it doesn't exactly furrow your eyebrows as much as it makes you giggle. you slap jaemin's hand away from your leg, childishly sticking out your tongue at him. "your a bastard".

"i'm being honest, come in with me?"

now it's your turn to scoff, listening to the rhythmic whistles and silent splashes of water. "no, you're crazy".

"oh come on! you aren't leaving me to entertain myself alone, are you?"

"i can entertain you while being dry".

he narrows his eyes, arms crossing over his chest underwater. "you are boring".

you click your tongue; "how sad".

"y/n!" he's quick to whine. "how are you going to come out here to nag me then not get in the water?"

"well i didn't come out here to swim".

"then you should leave".

he pouts again, and you sigh again. it's always like this with na jaemin isn't it?

you roll your eyes as he starts staring at you with that look. "okay fine, i'm sorr— AHH!"

your statement is suddenly cut off when he uses his superhuman strength to pull you down from your place, and you fall face first into the pool with a huge splash.

when you finally come to, jaemin only stares at you with that same shit eating grin. "oh you assho—"

"hey! you can't punch me in chenle's pool!"

"and whose gonna stop me?"

you yelp again when he splashes water in your direction, just barely closing your eyes in enough time to avoid the water attempting to enter them. "you think your sooooo funny huh?"

"hilarious, even".

you grimace, shaking your head aggressively back and forth in an attempt to get some of the water out of your hair. "fuck you".

jaemin frowns again, but he can barely hold in his snicker, and now it's your turn to cross your arms underwater. he moves his hair strands out of his face, staring at you for a weirdly long time. "i mean.. you look pretty like this".

you deadpan, cheeks just barely flaring up at the words. he says it all the time, y/n, it's not weird..

but na jaemin himself is weird, so you shouldn't be thinking all that into it.

"are you flattering me so i don't murder you?"

he snickers, looking down, seemingly as nervous about it as you are. "oh so i'm not allowed to compliment you now?"

"you're a weirdo, i always have to question what you do".

jaemin gasps loudly, clear offense in his tone, you can barely hide your smile as you see his reaction. maybe it's a bit strange how his eyes linger on your smile, but what can he say? it's pretty, he needs to make you laugh again.

"y/n".

you blink, staring at your best friend with eyes full of desire. did the outside air just turn up in temperature? it can not be this hot in early march. "yes?"

he hesitates for a moment, as if contemplating his words, which is probably the strongest sight to ever meet your eyes, because when na jaemin wants to say something, he says it. you sometimes forget he even has a thought process with how abrupt he is.

"can i kiss you?"

maybe it's the way it falls from his lips so naturally, or maybe it's the way his lips press together, they do look particularly soft, his constant use of lip balm clearly paying off.

you stare, the air getting significantly hotter, the water should be combatting that, right? your super attractive best friend who you totally harbor no romantic feelings towards just asked for permission to kiss you.

you chuckle. "in chenle's pool? really?"

your stalling, trying to correctly collect your word as your wondrous, beautiful best friend, na jaemin himself, stares at you like you're the only person in the world. has his gaze always been that heavy? when did your hands begin getting so clammy? what if you simply trust fall back into the water and drown? maybe it would be easier to avoid the awkwardness of this situation then..

"hey, when you have a chance you take it".

you laugh again, he really is something. you don't say more, simply pull him forward by his shoulder, finger itching to trace the skin of his bare chest. not before the kiss y/n, have some composure.

jaemin traces his fingers over the line of your jaw, and he pulls you in. his other hand slides down to your right hip, drawing a small squeak from you as your hands move up to his hair.

he wants to savor the moment, take a picture of it and hang it on his wall, there's a certain hunger in the way he groans against your lips, thumbs caressing the sides of your cheek. your arms are quick to wrap around his neck, still feeling the hairs on the back of his neck.

"you're so eager".

"you're the one who asked" you breath, gritting your teeth. "and besides—" you lean forward to take his lips again, the heat of his body transferring to yours. "—you wanted this as much as me didn't you?"

your desperation is quick to manifest, it manifests in the way you exhale sighs and whines, it's just something with na jaemin.

you two slowly.. swim(?) backward, your back hitting the surface of the pool wall. "oh chenle is going to kill us".

jaemin snickers. "why? it's not like were fucking in the pool".

you stare at him incredulously, of course he had to bring that up out of all things, but your face still heats up, and his lips turn up. "oh? do you want to fuck in the pool?"

"no you— pervert! we are not going to fuck in the pool!"

"okay okay, it was just a suggestion" he rolls his eyes, squeezing your hip.

you scrunch your nose, splashing water in his direction. "hey, let's just make this easy, go out with me?"

your jaw almost drops. is this man really serious?

"are you really asking me out in chenle's pool?"

"not as romantic as i wanted it to be but.. it works".

you would punch that smile off na jaemin's face if he wasn't absolutely adorable, oh, and you also really enjoy kissing him down. "okay stupid, but make it a good first date".

"i always keep my promises!"

and if you kiss him again? well that's no one else's business.

[corrodedcoffinfest]

Welcome to Corroded Coffin Fest!

This is a fanworks challenge/event that is all about Corroded Coffin. It will take place from July 1st thru July 31st.

Thanks so much for showing interest in this event during this post! If you have friends that you think would like to participate, please considering reblogging this announcement!

The calendar of prompts is located here:

Since there are so many events going on (and we love to see it!) we've decided to set a word count range for this event, so the love can be spread around to more events.

GUIDELINES:

Ideas for works include: fic, art, gifsets, fanvids, moodboards, edits, playlists, or anything else you can think of to celebrate Corroded Coffin!

For fics, there is a word count minimum/maximum of between 300-1000 words per drabble. We'll use wordcounter.net to check the word counts before reblogging, so make sure you stick to that range!

Do one prompt, do them all. Hell, do them all twice! It's totally up to you. You can pick and choose what you're interested in. And we're not going to police how you interpret the prompt. Just use them as a jumping off point to be inspired by the boys of Corroded Coffin, and then share that inspiration with us! (Not everything has to be band related, we encourage you to explore other parts of their lives, too!)

Submissions can absolutely be connected to other prompts from the event, or even past works, but should still be able to stand alone each day.

Every morning a new prompt card will go up, reminding everyone of what that day's prompt will be.

All submissions should include any pairings featured, content rating and any content warnings (CW) or tags that you think are appropriate. Please put the prompt you are fulfilling as well, just to keep things straightforward. A sample could look something like this:

Prompt Day 9: The Hideout, Word Count: 666, Rating: M, Pairing: None, CW: Underage Drinking, Recreational Drug Use, Tags: Corroded Coffin, First Gig, Partying, Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, Freak, The Hideout

Also, please consider putting any explicit material under a read more cut, because anything rated E that's not hidden under a cut will not be reblogged.

For the artists! Your art submission must be posted on the same day as the current prompt in order to be reblogged by this blog. Your piece of art (or other creation) must be Corroded Coffin focused, using any combination of the guys, together or solo. Of course, other characters can be included, too! But you need to have at least one of the CC band members in it for it to count for this event. Thank you!

All ships are welcome, as long as they include at least one member of Corroded Coffin: Eddie, Jeff, Gareth & Freak. (Who I look forward to learning the name of from you all, time and time again!)

Please tag us here @corrodedcoffinfest when you post your work for the day so we can reblog it!

Be respectful of your fellow participants and readers. We're all here to have fun and share the love of all parts of Corroded Coffin.

Definitely feel free to ask me anything if the rules weren't clear in places, or if I straight up forgot something (or if you just have anything else you'd like to ask). You can send an ask/message to this blog or reach out to @thisapplepielife.

Please submit your post by 11:59 PM EDT on the day of the prompt in order to not be missed for reblogging.

 If posting on AO3, please feel free to use the collection associated with this event: Corroded Coffin Fest AO3 Collection after your submission has been reblogged by this account.

Most importantly, have fun! We can't wait to see what Corroded Coffin fanworks come out of this new event!

More info below, including full prompt list with jumping off suggestions, the warm-up rounds for April, May & June, and a spreadsheet you're free to use:

PROMPTS:

JULY 1ST - FIRSTS

First gig, first check, first award, first...anything.

JULY 2ND - IN THE BEGINNING

How did Corroded Coffin come to be?

JULY 3RD - BEST FRIENDS

Who are the best friends in the band in your head? Let's find out.

JULY 4TH - EDDIE

We all know Eddie. Let's hear some more about him today.

JULY 5TH - ON THE ROAD AGAIN

Get them out on the road, in any way you see fit.

JULY 6TH - HEARD IT IN A LOVE SONG

Let's have some romance. Any pairing(s) that tickle your fancy.

JULY 7TH - CELEBRATE GOOD TIMES, C'MON

Let them celebrate! Maybe that's a birthday/holiday/celebration show. Maybe it's a wedding, etc.

JULY 8TH - BAND POLITICS

Fight! Fight! Fight! Not everything goes smoothly all the time.

JULY 9TH - THE HIDEOUT

Catch them there, every Tuesday, playing for five drunks.

JULY 10TH - PRIDE

Let's see them celebrate Pride! Or let's see them be proud, etc.

JULY 11TH - JEFF

Let's spend some time with the guitarist of Corroded Coffin.

JULY 12TH - OW!

Injuries happen. Tell me more.

JULY 13TH - SEX, DRUGS & ROCK N ROLL

Tell us about the seedier parts of being in a band! 18+ for adult content, please!

JULY 14TH - AND THE WINNER IS...

It's time for awards season. Do they win? Lose? Let us know.

JULY 15TH - LET'S TALK ABOUT THAT

Press Tour/Interviews. Sometimes they need to promote themselves.

JULY 16TH - STRUGGLING

They're working their asses off, grinding it out, but they haven't hit the big time yet. Or they're struggling in other ways...

JULY 17TH - "THIS ONE'S FOR YOU"

Dedicate a song to someone special.

JULY 18TH - FREAK (GRANT, FRANK, GOODIE, ETC.)

Whatever name you given him, let's all focus on the bassist of Corroded Coffin.

JULY 19TH - IN THE GARAGE

Get them in the garage. Band practice, fixing the van, etc.

JULY 20TH - UNDER THE COVERS

Let them cover some real songs. Or, you know, get under the covers in another way...

JULY 21ST - HATE THIS TOWN

Hawkins. How was it dragging them down? Or, maybe they hate LA...

JULY 22ND - ALTERNATE UNIVERSE (AU)

Use your imaginations and put them into a whole new world!

JULY 23RD - UP AND COMING

They're finally gaining a little traction. Or maybe they're up...and coming. *wink wink, nudge nudge*

JULY 24TH - BEHIND THE SCENES

What's it take to get this show on the road? Or, what are they really like, off-stage? Let's get a peek behind the curtain.

JULY 25TH - GARETH

Bang them sticks! Let's catch up with the drummer of Corroded Coffin.

JULY 26TH - TOUR DATE

Let's focus on a specific show.

JULY 27TH - YOU'LL BE IN MY HEART

Navigating love while on the road.

JULY 28TH - BACK TO INDIANA

Let's go back to Hawkins and/or Indiana. Send these boys home.

JULY 29TH - BEHIND THE MUSIC

You know there's drama. A story. Probably enough for VH1 to come knocking.

JULY 30TH - FAME & FORTUNE

They've made it big! Now what?

JULY 31ST - YOUR SONG

A Corroded Coffin song? A work inspired by a song? A song that makes you think of Corroded Coffin?

WARM-UP ROUNDS:

Let's get a little practice before the full event in July!

Here's a prompt each month leading up to the event to work out the kinks and get in the rhythm of it all!

APRIL 15TH - TAXED

It's tax day. Do they need to pay their taxes? Is this a write-off? Or, are they just taxed from being on the road? Tax them.

MAY 15TH - GET A JOB

Put 'em to work. First jobs, side hustles, etc. Surely they've had some other jobs besides being in the band. Tell us about them.

JUNE 15TH - BAND ON THE RUN

Are they late for a gig? Running from monsters in the Upside Down? On a tour from hell?

Same guidelines as the full event will apply.

SPREADSHEET:

If you'd like a spreadsheet to help you keep track of the prompts and your progress, here's the one I personally use for other events, and will be using myself for this event. If you'd like to use it yourself, just go to File>Make a Copy and you'll get a version you can edit in your own Google Sheets.

Thanks for showing interest in having a Corroded Coffin event this year! ❤️🦇🖤 - @thisapplepielife (and thanks for the help and adding to the prompt list, @wormdebut!)

[mmmichyyy]

if you’re still taking prompts, 53+94?

#53. "take off your shirt."

(1.6k words of ian being a lovable dumb idiot and mickey going along with it)

it was a spur of the moment decision. one minute ian's getting off his shift, the next he's pushing open the door to the tattoo studio he passes by every day just around the corner from his apartment, a sign blaring MILK in bright neon lights welcoming him.

"hey," ian greets the overly-pierced girl sitting at the front desk. "do you take walk-ins?"

the girl snaps her gum. looks him up and down. "are you looking to get pierced or inked?"

"uh, inked." ian fidgets with the hem of his sleeve. "something small, on my arm, maybe. i don't know what i want, though. i haven't really... thought it through."

"well, all our artists are busy right now," she says, unbothered, handing him an album and a clipboard. "so if you don't mind waiting, flip through our flash book and see what kind of design you want, then fill out the consent form when you're ready."

ian nods. "should i wait here or..."

she points down the hallway. "room three is empty right now. i'll send one of our artists over in a bit for a consultation."

to ian's relief, the studio isn't like the grimy tattoo shop he went to a couple years ago. from what he can see, the place is kept clean and sterile, everything neatly organized and spotless. he settles into the leather-cushioned chair and aimlessly flips through the album, eyes glossing over page after page of designs.

honestly, he has no idea what he wants. he doesn't even know why he's doing this; why he wants a tattoo memorializing someone who was barely a fleeting presence for his entire life. how do you sum up a whirlwind and a hurricane? how do you solve a problem like monica? he and his siblings always jokingly asked each other.

but there was always a hint of despair, an unsaid sliver of yearning every time monica was brought up, because... how? how?

which is the very reason why he can't talk to his siblings about any of it - everyone has their own complicated relationship with monica, but no one wants to acknowledge them out loud. their mom is dead and all she left behind are faded memories, paper cuts on their hearts, and a couple kilos of meth.

...and now ian is getting a tattoo for her. go figure.

the longer he sits, however, the more his self-doubt starts to creep in. he starts to wonder if it's too late for him to back out.

"you my seven o'clock?"

ian looks up and finds a man staring at him curiously. a man with dark slicked-back hair and pale skin and a single silver bar piercing above his right brow, framing clear blue eyes. swirling intricate designs run down his arms and disappear underneath a tight black t-shirt - one side all colour, the other black ink only.

shit. this guy is fucking hot.

immediately ian's mind goes blank.

"uh... yes?"

"cool." the man closes the door. "name's mickey. did you fill out the consent form yet?"

mickey. the synapses in ian's brain short-circuits. "not yet...?"

mickey nods, as he heads towards the sink in the corner of the room. "you can fill it out while i set everything up. is this your first time?"

"no." ian lets out a breath and picks up the pen attached to the clipboard. "i've done it before."

"really." mickey surveys him up and down. "i don't see any."

ian winces, glad mickey can't see the patriotic eagle under his shirt. one of his many regrets, unfortunately. "it's um... hidden."

mickey's brows furrow for a moment, before his eyes light up. "ah. gotcha, man."

ian's not sure what to make of mickey's reaction - but he doesn't trust his mind to not say something dumb to who just might be the hottest guy he's ever seen standing in front of him, so he keeps his trap shut and quickly fills out the form before handing the clipboard over.

"so," mickey looks down at the form, "ian. do you know which side you want it on?"

ian blinks. "side?"

mickey blinks back at him. "right or left?"

ah. which arm. "left. i need the right one for work tomorrow," ian jokes.

mickey gives him a strange look. "sure."

ian watches as mickey snaps on a pair of black disposable gloves, then sets out some needles in sealed packages on a silver tray. he didn't think mickey would be a stick and poke kind of artist instead of using a tattoo gun, but at this point ian could care less the method in which he gets inked.

"you nervous?" mickey asks, noticing ian's fidgeting fingers in his lap.

ian lets out a breath.

"kind of," he admits. "my mom... she died recently, and i wanted to get something small to remind me of her."

"you..." mickey pauses. "you're doing this for your mom?"

"why?" ian asks, getting a bit self-conscious now. maybe mickey has seen a lot of his clients regret getting tattoos for their parents. "you think i shouldn't?"

"it's your choice," mickey replies slowly. "if you want something to really remember someone by, then this will do it."

ian lets out a breath. "yeah," he nods. "let's do this."

"take off your shirt, then," mickey says, and ian's brain once again goes offline because of course it does. "i'll sterilize the area first and then we'll get started."

in hindsight, if mickey was just some average-looking guy or literally any other person at all, maybe ian would've caught on earlier. do his due diligence and change the fire alarm batteries in his head, instead of letting the warning bells beep incessantly. he might've thought to himself hey, that's weird, why do i need to be shirtless if i'm getting a tattoo on my arm? and before i confirmed what design i want? when i don't even know what i'm getting? hm? hello?????

but alas, because clearly all rational thoughts have been thrown out of his head (did he have any to begin with?), he quickly unbuttons his emt uniform shirt and tosses it over the side of the chair. subtly yet not so subtly flexes his arms a bit, because hey, why the fuck not? he works out. he's fit. sue him for wanting to show off a bit.

except nothing, absolutely nothing, could've prepared him when mickey wipes a cool, stinging alcohol wipe across his left nipple.

ian yelps. practically falls out of the chair and almost lands on his ass. mickey just stares at him, gloved hand still held up.

"i– uhhhhh– look, there must be some misunderstanding–" ian sputters, feeling his cheeks heat up. "i'm getting a tattoo on my arm, not my, uh...."

"nipple?" mickey supplies, the corners of his mouth turned slightly upwards.

ian wants to die.

blames himself for thinking with his dick. or rather, not using his brain at all.

either way, he wishes he could pass away on the spot. cut the brakes. burst into flames. end it all, right there and then.

before he can say any parting words and then forever perish from the mortal realm, he feels something drape over his shoulders. looks up to mickey a mere breath's distance away, covering his shivering back with his shirt.

is that a smile on mickey's face? or is ian being delusional once again?

delusional. definitely delusional.

"sooo,” mickey drags out the word, “i guess you're not my seven o'clock nipple piercing appointment?"

ian shakes his head as he hastily buttons up his shirt, ignoring the heat filling his cheeks. "i guess there was some kind of mix-up, the girl out front told me to go wait in room three."

mickey rolls his eyes. "i swear sandy messes up on purpose just to fuck with me. how hard is it to keep track of three rooms?"

"you didn't think it was weird someone would need their right nipple for work? or that they want to get something pierced for their mom?" ian asks, a little incredulous.

mickey, ever full of indifference, merely shrugs. "hey, i don't know your life, man."

there's an awkward lull in the air. ian's eyes dart towards the door, hoping he can make a quick exit and then, perhaps, find a cliff and walk off it. "well, i'll just go then..."

"come back tomorrow night," mickey cuts him off, to ian's surprise. "you said you wanted something small, right? mandy's the best at doing fine line shit, she can help you design whatever you're thinking of."

"sandy, mandy, mickey. what, are you all related?" ian jokes weakly.

"cousin and sister," mickey shrugs. "it's a whole family affair up in here."

"okay," ian nods slowly, watching mickey turn on the tap to wash his hands. guess he’ll postpone his cliff walk for another day. "i'll come back tomorrow then."

just as ian’s about to bolt out the door, he hears a soft hey call out to him. when he turns around, he almost gasps when mickey’s standing directly behind him, and quite nearly has an aneurism when mickey reaches out his fingertips to straighten out his collar, blue eyes directly staring into his soul.

"don't take off your shirt for her though," mickey says, and ian's breath hitches. "bitch doesn't deserve a free show."

before his brain could stop his mouth from running (seems to be a common occurrence today), ian asks, "you liked what you saw, then?"

mickey pats ian's cheek twice, then steps back. "i don't hook up with clients, as a general rule."

"well," ian can't keep the hopeful tone out of his voice. "maybe after tomorrow then, when i’m not a client anymore?"

this time, ian knows he's not being delusional.

mickey's lips are definitely curved into a smile.

“guess you’ll just have to wait and find out.”

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Wingspan

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: Minors denied. Don't want me to write the list of all shameful things I wrote under the cut

Because I've spent whole week with sick 2 years old child, managed to get sick as well and I'm deprived of Azriel because last two months I'm writing only Heal me and as soon as he appeared on scene, this invaded my mind.. Honestly too many reasons to write something silly ⁄⁠(��⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠-⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠)⁠⁄

"Okay, guys. You know why we are here," I started. "At first I'd like to thank you that you voluntarily signed up as subjects for this research."

"We compare our pricks whole life. It's our pleasure that somebody finally took it seriously and wants to write a whole book about it," Cassian teased, laughing hard.

Rhysand was trying really hard to keep a straight face the whole time, but after Cassian's comment he was about to lose it, and Azriel standing in the dark corner rather disappeared in his shadows after this comment.

How did I even get into this situation? Well, I knew how. It all happened because I was a passionate researcher. Too passionate for my own good.

It all started with mated Archeron sisters and Mor who wouldn't stop debating about this thing of a correlation of wingspan with the size of Illyrian male's private parts. It picked up my interest and I searched the entire library to find out more info about it. Utterly failing in the process, there wasn't a single mention. There wasn't even a proper documentation of their wings alone. So I took it upon myself to collect necessary data to confirm or deny truth of this rumour. I briefly mentioned it to Rhys hoping he could help me find enough subjects for the research. Which he did in surprisingly short time. And as if it wasn't enough he and his brothers signed up, too.

"That part I will leave to you. I hope I can count on you to deliver accurate numbers. If you try to cheat I'll have your mates to do it properly," I laughed, but I meant every single word.

"I'm sure Nes would be all for it," Cassian grinned proudly.

"As if Feyre wouldn't," Rhysand lost it. I had to laugh. I was afraid it would turn into something awkward, but with these two it was impossible. They were like kids, turning everything into a funny game.

I met Rhysand under the mountain. He witnessed the moment my ex betrayed me and when Feyre saved us all, he picked up my remains and brought me to Velaris to heal. In the end I decided to stay here. I buried love, lust and everything related to it as deep as possible and focussed on what I liked - research - occasionally helping inner circle.

"At least they certainly won't cheat," I smiled. "This research origins in their concern after all."

The three of us laughed so hard we cried. Only Azriel stayed silent hidden in his corner.

"And who will make sure Azriel doesn't cheat?" Cassian wondered.

"Why should I," Azriel stepped out from his hideaway, lowering a challenging gaze at me.

"I believe Azriel is the last one of three of you to use such dirty tricks to manipulate the results," I said, returning his gaze. "But if he does, I'll personally make sure he delivers true data."

His hazel eyes lit up with mischief and corners of his full lips slightly moved upward in a hardly there smirk. He wasn't so different from his brothers. More serious than these two? Certainly, but he could be playful, too.

"Okay, guys, let's get it done. Who is the first to show off the wingspan?"

This was the part I'd been looking forward the most. Illyrian wings, the most important subject of my research and to be honest, the main reason of this fuss. So sacred that sometimes even their lovers weren't allowed to touch them. Not that I could touch them by any mean. Boys only granted me to take measurements and a close look to make detailed sketches. Totally understandable given how sensitive they were.

All three of them took turns one in a time, helping me when my arms were too short. I took measurements of different parts of their bodies, too, just to be sure I have all I could possibly need to get accurate results. I wrote down numbers into my notebook, already amazed by the results.

"That's all for today. Thank you for your time. When can I expect the other data?"

"You can get them even right now, if you want, but I guess you don't want to see it, do you?" Cassian, always such a tease. I shook my head laughing.

"Would tomorrow morning be a soon enough for you?" Rhysand purred, flashing a smile. "Tonight we're going to have a lot of fun with Feyre."

"It would be perfect," I agreed. The sooner I was done here, the sooner I could go to camps to collect data from volunteers Rhysand had found for me.

Cassian and Rhysand left soon after, but ever-silent Azriel stayed behind.

He seemed to be so flustered and nervous while I was taking his measurements. Cassian was picking on him for that, but Azriel stoically ignored him and held still. It seemed he didn't even breathe. I knew he didn't like to be touched. It was the biggest of the surprises that he voluntarily signed up for this, so I was extra careful with him.

Ever since I met him, he was always very kind and considerate to me. However it took some time until he opened up. It's just few months since we started to hang out more. Not that I wouldn't like him. If I were honest, I would admit that he was very interesting person, I liked him a lot and he was so incredibly handsome. Too handsome to be real.

But that's exactly the way I wasn't suppose to think about him. I'm the type who falls easily and hard, and loves with all her being. That's why I was so devastated last time. Nobody could possibly love somebody like me. I'm unbearable in many ways.

Plus he is too high league for somebody like me. He can have anybody he wants and the line of prospects is long. Elain and Gwyn for example compete for his attention for years. Successfully. There's no way he would think of me that way. I shook my head to get rid of these self harming thoughts.

Turning I smiled at him encouragingly. Azriel cleared his throat, wings rustled behind his back. He did this often when he was nervous or uncomfortable.

"The camps.. are you planning to go there alone?" His deep voice always did this strange thing with my insides. And today was no different. I pushed the feeling aside, to the box of things I shouldn't think about and shut it closed.

"No, I believe last time Rhysand mentioned something about sending an escort. Mor is going with me, too."

"Okay," he nodded. His one word responses the were death of me. It was so hard to keep conversation going.

"Uhm.. So tomorrow? You don't have to hurry if it's inconvenient for you."

"Tomorrow is fine."

"Oh.. So.. uhm.. I'll see you tomorrow." Shadowsinger just nodded looking down at me a little longer than necessary and then finally he turned and left. I let out a long breath.

Next day Rhys came as the first one as soon as I entered my office. I guess he couldn't wait. Cassian stopped by as soon as the training with priestesses was over. I checked their results with their mates during the lunch break just to be sure the numbers are correct.

It was almost evening and Azriel was nowhere to be seen. I packed some of the stuff I needed to take to camps and took a look around. There was nothing else to keep me occupied, so I decided it's time to go home. I was about to open the door when a knock sounded. It was Azriel.

"You came," I greeted him with smile.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner. I was-"

"It's okay," I interrupted him. "You really don't need to apologise. I'm grateful you signed up for this."

He made a small noise and handed me a piece of folded paper. I took it and returned to my desk where I left the notebook with all data.

"Were you going to go home already?" he asked while I unfolded the paper.

"Yeah, you came just in time. One minute later and I would be gone." I looked at the number and froze. No way, this was certainly wrong. I compared it to the other numbers. Definitely wrong.

"Something's wrong?" he stepped closer, peeking down on me.

"What?" I was so immersed in my thoughts I didn't hear him. "Excuse me," I said boldly and reached for his crotch. Just to make things clear, I wasn't completely myself, otherwise I wouldn't dare to even think about doing so. In that very moment I was simply researcher and nothing else.

Azriel sharply inhaled, eyes widened, but he held still, blushing heavily.

"As I thought," I mumbled to myself releasing him. "Sweetheart, you were supposed to measure yourself when you are.. You know.. 'excited'. I really didn't think you would try to sabotage the research," I tried to joke to lighten his embarrassment. "With your .. equipment.. there's no reason for you to lose. I thought you are quite competitive."

He just silently looked to the side while the shadows danced around him as if trying to hide him.

"Or did you want me to help you with it?" I smiled teasingly. His head snapped up, hazel eyes finding mine. "Sit down there," I pointed to an armchair near the window. While he did as I asked him, I took a chair, placing it next to the armchair, facing the other side. I took the notebook, a towel and a tape measure I used the other day, and sat down on the chair.

I looked at him amused. From this angle I could see only his face and shoulders. "Go ahead. I won't look." With that I opened the notebook looking for the page, but he hadn't moved gazing up at me.

I smiled still leafing through pages. "Let me tell you a secret, okay? We have something in common, Az." I leaned closer to him as if it was really a secret I was about to reveal. "When I say I won't look, then I really won't do it." I looked straight into his eyes to make it clear that I meant it. "I can even measure you without seeing it. I don't need to touch you either. All I need is for this measure to touch you. That's all. So take your pants off and let me know when you are ready."

At this moment he was panting heavily, his pupils dilated. "Do you want me to chit chat you through it? Or do you prefer silence?" I added, arching a brow at him when he just sat there gazing. Finally he moved and I heard as his pants slid down. Azriel's gaze darkened, his eyes never leaving mine.

He swallowed, his broad chest heaving. "I'm ready" he rasped, his usually deep voice deepened even more. I'd be lying if I said it didn't effect me. Now it was my turn to blush.

I handed him the towel. "Cover yourself." I stood up slowly to give him enough time. I turned to him placing notebook on a small side table within arm's reach. I gasped when I looked down at him. My heart went crazy, running for marathon and I could only wish he didn't hear it.

Azriel sat in the armchair in full grace as if it was his throne, his bare legs with muscles on right places spread wide, towel crumpled in his fist. He grinned challengingly.

Okay, maybe we have more than one thing in common. I hate losing, too.

My mouth went dry and I was panting as heavily as Azriel. My head emptied. It took me every ounce of self-control to step between his legs, control my trembling hands and measure him. But I did it, I didn't break.

"Much better," I said coolly as I wrote results down. I collected my things, ready to leave.

"You want to leave me like this, Y/N?" Azriel growled lowly.

I made the mistake and looked into his beautiful eyes. I wasn't sure what I'd seen in them, but it dug out all forgotten feelings. As wave of lust washed over me I lost control over myself. I sat down on the armrest, my legs brushing his thigh lightly. I placed hands on his shoulders and leaned in.

"You are right. I should repay you," I whispered inches from him.

For a while Azriel watched me as a starved man. Slowly, very slowly he erased the distance between us, his soft lips colliding with mine. The moan that came out from his throat made me forget whatever happened after that.

When his fingers found a waistband of my pants and started unbuttoning them, it was like a cold shower. I broke the kiss, untangling my fingers from his silky dark strands. Eyes still closed, his lips followed after me. I squeezed his fingers in my hands and he looked up at me. I could see he wasn't pleased that I stopped him, but he didn't try to pressure me.

"This part of me is not on offer," I said calmly sending him a sad smile. There wasn't reason to be mad. It was my fault in the first place, I was the one to provoke him. "For you it might be just another one night stay that you forget all about very next morning, but I'm different." I stood up fixing my clothes. "I take male to bed only when I have feelings for him and vice versa." He frowned, ready to say something. "I'm trying to say.. for me it isn't just sex.. To do it, I need real relationship, real feelings, security.. Lust isn't enough. I'm sorry." I left quickly and he didn't try to stop me this time.

Next day early in the morning I left to collect data at camps. Work helped me to forget about that night, but as soon as I stopped, it all returned. The most scary thing was to return back to Velaris and meet him. So I extended my stay as much as possible.

Four months later I was sitting in a sitting room of River House, chatting with Feyre and Mor by the fireplace after the family dinner. I collected all data to get some presentable results and currently I was half through writing in down. (Just between us, the rumors have proven to be true. Larger wingspan equals bigger you-know-what)

It was few weeks since I returned to Velaris and so far Azriel was avoiding me as much as possible. When we happened to be in the same room, he didn't even acknowledge me, looking the other side. So much for my fear.

Did it hurt? As hell. He was my friend. The feelings he awakened that night also didn't disappear over night, haunting me down every spare minute I had. I pushed them deep down, but it was too late. I'd already fallen for him.

During our stay at camps, Mor found out that something must have happened before we left, but she'd never asked about it. Which I was very grateful for. I wasn't ready to talk about it.

Now she kept peeking somewhere behind me, biting on her lower lip, unusually silent. Something was obviously bothering her. I could ask her straight away, but I decided to give her 5 minutes to see if she would start to talk on her own. It took exactly 3 minutes.

"Uhm, Y/N, tell me. Something happened between you and Az?"

"I may have hurt his male ego. Why?" I replied as casually as possible.

"He keeps eyeing you and I know that look too well. He watched me like that for five centuries, but it's never turned into something so... Desperate?" She turned to Feyre. "What do you think?"

Feyre inconspicuously peeked behind me, too. "Yeah, definitely desperate. And sad. Rhys said that lately he isn't himself. As if something was wrong with him? Maybe bothered him? But he won't talk about it."

Mor nodded. I had the urge to turn around and see for myself, but I resisted.

"What happened?" Mor asked and Feyre leaned closer, eager for details.

"Well, he kind of misunderstood the situation.. and I told him.. that I don't do the one night stay thing.."

"He actually went after you?" Mor beamed lowering her voice.

"Not really. I might have provoked him a bit," I reluctantly admitted.

They giggled like small girls, looking at each other.

"Y/N, believe me when I tell you that you can't provoke him," Mor whispered enthusiastically. "Nobody is able to break him. He is like.. granite."

"There must be something more behind it," Feyre added. "You should go and talk to him."

"You should," Mor agreed. "He looks to be on the verge of total breakdown." She again peeked behind me. "Go. Right. Now."

They both gave me nod, stood up and moved to another chat group. I stayed alone, just like Azriel who sat in an alcove with window behind me. I inhaled deeply, slowly breathing out. I could at least give it a try. Standing up I took my glass and walked to him.

"Hey."

"Hey," he answered lowly. I hardly heard him. His face was as unreadable as usually, but his impossibly beautiful hazel eyes.. Yeah, they were right. He looked to be on verge of breakdown. Even his posture was all wrong. Slumped shoulders, hunched over, wings hanging down. The shadows hoovered around him like embodiment of his current mood.

"Everything alright?"

He nodded looking away. Ouch. He didn't want to talk with me. I probably hurt his ego more than I thought. I was lost for words. Did he expect me to apologise? I certainly wouldn't do that. I had every right to stop him back then.

Oh, male and their ego. Suddenly memories of my ex flooded my mind. And I got mad. Rage was the only emotion that never disappeared completely nor healed.

I turned around, ready to leave before I could take it out on the wrong person. Strong fingers wrapped around my arm, stopping me. They held me gently, but firmly. I looked back at Azriel and all the rage was gone instantly.

"Would you mind to it down with me?"

I couldn't speak, still shocked by the pain in his eyes. Just when I was seated in the alcove, he released me and sat back down, too. Silence stretched between us.

"I meant to say this much sooner," he started slowly. "I'm so sorry for my poor behaviour. I'm so ashamed." My fingers curled into fist, but I didn't dare to interrupt him. "I know you were just joking to make me feel better, to relax. I knew it even back then. I wish I could explain why I did it, but I can't. I was.. dick."

And how big dick. I had to bite down on my lip to stop myself. This was serious situation. But in all seriousness, he broke the records. Nobody had bigger than him.

"I should have covered with towel as you asked me. I shouldn't have stopped you. I shouldn't have kissed you," he whispered the last sentence. "I should even be sorry that I kissed you, but I am not. I wanted it. Really wanted. Still want it. I'm trash." He stood up quickly. I managed to pull him back down before he could run away. My pulse skyrocketed.

Waitwaitwait. Had he just said that he still wanted to kiss me? My rational part demanded answers. I had to solve this question before my reckless heart could come to own conclusion. I didn't need another heartbreak.

I looked deep into his eyes. I looked only for truth and nothing else. "Tell me, Az, why? Why do you still want it?"

He blushed fiercely and tried to look away, but I wouldn't let him. "Please."

"I..love you," he whispered and my heart stopped for second only to start racing at a crazy pace later.

I wasn't sure he really said that. That must be just my imagination, right? I gazed at beautiful, elegant Elain with big doe eyes sitting on the other side of room, laughing with her sisters. Yeah, I imagined it. But when my eyes slid back to him, he was gazing right back, tensed, waiting.

"I'm sorry. I think I misheard," I smiled nervously.

"I said.. I love you," Azriel repeated quietly, but clearly.

A single tear rolled down my cheek. I didn't think. I couldn't. I just surged forward and hugged him. He stiffened for a heartbeat and then his strong arms wrapped around me and held me firmly. Another tear followed the first one and then another, until it turned into an endless stream. I felt a cool touch of his shadows. They hid us from prying eyes. Or so I thought.

World tilted to the side and we were in my office where it all had started.

"More private," Azriel whispered when I released him to take a look around, confused.

I quickly wiped tears away. "Oh." I still wasn't ready to talk. My head was a total mess. Love. Azriel just told me he loved me. And he was still waiting for my answer. But I wasn't currently able to put the words together to make even a simple sentence.

"Do you need water?" he offered, helping me to sit to an armchair, the very same armchair where he.. Nope, I couldn't think about it now. It would be too much.

What was the question? Ah, water.. Did I need it? I nodded anyway and he handed me a glass. I emptied it immediately.

Azriel watched me carefully as if I could explode any second. I was trying to find something to ground me and my eyes fell to the notebook. "Wingspan," I blurted. His brows furrowed. "You have the largest wingspan."

He huffed in amusement. "Do I?" Azriel took a step back, his eyes were sad again.

Maybe I was crazy, but I reached out and pulled him down on me. "I believe I still haven't repaid for your help."

He shook his head. " You don't have to-"

"I want." I cupped his cheeks between my hands. He hesitated searching my face, his body tensed above me.

Azriel slowly leaned down and kissed me. It was nothing like the last kiss driven by lust and desire. This kiss was careful, exploring. I pushed against his shoulder and we exchanged our positions.

Just like the last time, Azriel was sitting in the armchair and I was above him. I made sure there was space between us. I didn't want to provoke him, sex was out of the question yet. He knew it, too, and kept his hands on my waist.

I deepened the kiss and soon enough we both turned into a panting mess. Azriel's moan startled me.

"I'm sorry," he rasped.

I giggled. "You moaned back then, too."

"I can't help it," he smiled. Azriel leaned forward, keeping small space between us. He hid his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply again and again. "Touch them."

I swallowed. "What?"

"You can touch them," he spread his wings wide around us. "I've never allowed anybody to touch them. But now I want you to do so."

I was speechless second time today. Sacred Illyrian wings and he asked me to touch them. This was Illyrian way to say he trusted me. He trusted me even with his life.

I ran my fingers through his soft hair. "You know that.. there will be no sex today nor any time soon.." I hoped it came out as a joke. Truthful, but still joke.

He laughed breathlessly. "I know. That doesn't change the fact I want you to touch them. You said you want to repay me. So please.." He kissed the sensitive spot under my ear.

He got me there. If he only knew what he had called upon himself. I wanted to touch them, badly, but not only because they were his. I wanted it because I was the damn researcher which equals to a monster at times. I longed to feel the texture of the skin, to feel every single bone and muscle in them, everything.

"Are you really sure about this?" My attention was already trained on the beautiful enormous wings around me. This was his last chance to back out of this.

"Absolutely. So put those damn little hands of yours on them already," he rasped, landing another kiss to that sensitive spot.

He didn't need to repeat it again.

I gasped as tips of my fingers traced the soft skin around the bone. It. Was. Perfect. I expected them to be cold and rough to touch. Even though I touched him just lightly, I could feel every single muscle, even the smallest ones. The bone seemed to be so fragile and strong at the same time. Skin was so warm, stretchy and impossibly soft like baby's skin. I mapped every vein running through the membranes, his pulse drumming under my hands. I traced every scarred tissue I found, paying it extra attention.

I was so immersed into exploring his wings that I hadn't noticed what my curiosity did to Azriel until he came under me with a wall shattering roar. I winced, looking down at him.

His head was tilted back, eyes closed tightly. He was trembling and panting, his broad chest heaving heavily. Streams of sweat were running down the column of his exposed neck. His hands were fisting the material of armrests so tightly he almost torn it into shreds.

I couldn't believe I'd missed something so..amazing. Azriel was a piece of art in every possible meaning. My fingers traced the vein that bobbed out on his neck. He shuddered, his eyes slowly opened, looking up at me. Shadowsinger smiled weakly. "Only you can do this to me," his voice was hoarse.

I brushed away a damp strand of hair that fell to his forehead. My heart was beating wildly as I leaned in and kissed him slowly and deeply. His hands embraced me, pulling me closer.

"I love you," I whispered to his mouth.

I wasn't scared anymore. In this very moment I was more confident than ever that I would spend the rest of my life with this perfect male. Because he was mine and I was his.

[novaursa]

Can you write about Ser Duncan meeting Targaryen!reader (the older sister of Aegon) and they fall in love but they have to keep it hidden since he's a knight and she's a princess?

The Princess's Knight

Requests are closed!

- Summary: You and Duncan are smitten with each other, and Egg is too smart for his own good. 

- Paring: targ!reader/Ser Duncan the Tall

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The air in Summerhall is warm, filled with the soft hum of life all around. The sun filters in through the wide windows, casting golden light on the marble floors, making it feel as though the world itself is holding its breath, keeping your secret. It has to, after all. No one can know.

You stand at the far edge of the gardens, the scent of blooming flowers filling the air as you watch Duncan from a distance. He’s standing with your brother, Aegon—Egg, as you so often call him. Duncan's towering figure beside Aegon’s smaller, wiry frame is an amusing sight. A knight of his stature, a princess like you. The absurdity is not lost on you, yet your heart races every time his eyes meet yours, even if only for the briefest of moments.

You look away, feigning interest in the roses, though your thoughts are all on Duncan. You’ve learned to be discreet, but it's difficult when every glance, every stolen touch feels like a secret promise between you both.

From where you stand, you can hear the faint murmur of conversation between your brother and Duncan.

"So, Duncan," Aegon says, mischief lacing his voice, "how is my dear sister?"

You can practically hear Duncan’s heart skip a beat, even from this distance. He clears his throat awkwardly, and you don’t need to look at him to know he's glancing your way, trying not to be obvious.

"She’s well, Your Grace," Duncan replies, voice gruff and steady, though you catch the slight hesitation in his tone.

Aegon snickers, elbowing the knight in the ribs. "Well? That’s all? You’re always watching her like she’s the only person in the entire realm, Duncan. Come on, admit it, you’re utterly smitten."

You bite your lip to stifle a laugh. Egg always did have a sharp tongue, and though you appreciate his wit, it’s dangerous territory.

"Your Grace—" Duncan begins, but Aegon cuts him off.

"Don't deny it. I’ve seen the way you look at her. You can’t fool me, Duncan. Just don't get caught staring too much, or Father will have your head—and that would be a shame. You’re too useful as a knight," Aegon adds with a wicked grin.

You feel your face heat up at Aegon’s teasing, though you know Duncan is probably redder than you. You risk a glance at them, and sure enough, Duncan’s expression is somewhere between flustered and exasperated. For a knight of his stature, he’s remarkably bad at hiding his feelings. It’s part of why you love him.

Love. The word dances in your mind, dangerous yet thrilling. Love is a powerful thing for a princess like you—a daughter of King Maekar, bound by duty and honor. Yet, with Duncan, it feels as though the weight of the crown and all the expectations that come with it slip away, if only for a little while.

"Egg," you call, striding toward them, trying to act as though you hadn’t heard the entire conversation.

Aegon spins around, a smirk on his face as he eyes you. "Sister! I was just telling Duncan here how he should be careful. After all, a knight shouldn’t lose his head, should he?"

You arch an eyebrow, meeting Duncan’s gaze for a heartbeat before turning to your brother. "Is that so? And what do you mean by that, Egg?"

Aegon chuckles, stepping back. "Oh, nothing. Nothing at all." He looks at Duncan, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Isn’t that right, Ser Duncan?"

Duncan stands stiff, clearly uncomfortable under Aegon’s scrutiny. "Y-yes, Your Grace," he stammers.

Aegon grins like the cat that caught the canary, obviously enjoying himself far too much. "Well, I should leave you two alone. I’m sure Duncan has much more important things to tend to." He winks at you before walking off, his laughter trailing behind him.

Once Aegon is out of earshot, you turn to Duncan, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well?" you ask, unable to hide the teasing note in your voice.

Duncan rubs the back of his neck, towering over you but somehow looking like a boy caught doing something he shouldn’t. "I... didn’t mean for him to... I wasn’t staring," he mutters, though the flush in his cheeks tells you otherwise.

You laugh softly, stepping closer. "You’re a terrible liar, Duncan."

He looks down at you, and there it is again—that quiet, unspoken affection in his eyes that makes your heart flutter. "I try to be careful," he says softly. "But it’s hard. Every time I see you…"

Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, the rest of the world seems to vanish. There’s no king, no court, no duties. Just the two of you, standing together in the sunlight, sharing a secret the world can’t know.

"You don’t have to be careful with me," you whisper, glancing around quickly to make sure no one is watching before you place your hand lightly on his arm. The contact is brief, but it sends a shiver through you.

Duncan looks down at where your hand had been, and when he meets your eyes again, there’s a tenderness there that makes you feel as though you’re the only person in his world.

"I know," he murmurs, his voice low. "But I can’t help it. You’re a princess, and I’m… just a knight."

You shake your head. "You’re not *just anything, Duncan. Not to me."

The words hang between you, heavy with meaning, and for a moment, it feels as though you might be able to forget the rules, the restrictions, and the expectations. But then you hear footsteps approaching, and the spell is broken.

Duncan steps back, his expression guarded once more, though there’s a flicker of regret in his eyes.

"Until next time, my lady," he says, bowing his head.

You watch him go, your heart aching with the weight of all the things you can’t say, and yet, there’s a smile on your lips. Because despite everything, you know that next time will come.

And when it does, you’ll be ready.

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

hii

ive been a reader of yours ever since you posted your february filth fest and i have been craving for a continuation of day fifteen: should i? yungi cause i want a dom! yunho x sub! mingi x sub! reader so bad??? it's okay it you don't want to or can't!

all your works are beautiful, so beautiful 🤧 im gatekeeping it 🤧🤧❤️👏

Should I? - Pt 2

a/n: thank you so much 😭 messages like this help get me through rough days and i appreciate that my works are so well received so far:( i hope you enjoy!

Jeong Yunho x fem reader x Song Mingi

"Calm your brat ass down and then we can fuck our girlfriend."

✫彡wordcount: 2.8k

(>ᴗ•) genre: smut w/o plot

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: picks up where it left off, poly relationship, threesome, cam/streaming AU, unprotected (boo🗣️), toys, hard daddy dom yunho/sub mingi/sub reader, orgasm control, degradation/name calling, overstim, bj, light dacryphilia, scratching, slapping&spanking, sprinkles of size kink, begging, feral mingi (WRAGAGAGA), dp, cream pie, rough, drooling, praise, soooo much dirty talk im sorry, churning butter, i went way overboard yall the yungi brain rot is getting to me, i skimmed over but didn't really edit

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

It's been far too long in this same position for your own sanity.

    Straddled over Yunhos lap with him pounding your insides, giving the digital audience a good view of how your body reacts to his touch as he pulls your hips up and shows the camera how creamy you've made him before slamming them back down on his. Mingi holding your hands and pulling your chest flush to Yunhos as he whispers how bad he wants to be the one up in your guts or the one getting his rearranged by your boyfriend, just loud enough for the mic to pick it up over the lewd noises that your cunt makes.

    The wet squelching makes it all the harder for you to hold back as Yunho tells you not to cum.

     "Be a good Baby and let Daddy cum first," is his exact words as he feels your gummy walls hugging him tighter all of the sudden. Mingi whimpers in tandem with you, if you can't cum than neither can he. And he knows how defiant you are, you could be here all night fighting not to cum before Yunho.

Mingi lets loose your hands and they immediately wrap up in his hair, bringing him over his shoulder to kiss him. You kneel up higher to make sure his face isn't in frame, so Yunho has to lift his hips with more force to keep knocking into your g-spot, his own face hidden in your chest and nipping at the pebbled flesh there.

"Daddy p-"

"No." His simple denial makes you tug at Mingis hair, a loud moan slipping past his lips as he grinds up on Yunhos back. "I don't care how good it feels, you best not cum until I tell you to."

"Fuck, Daddy, please, she deserves it, look at how good she's taking you, you're so big and she's swallowing you whole," he begs for you, nearly drooling on your head as he holds it close to his neck, watching on the screen as Yunho holds himself up on his hands and pumps into you ruthlessly. "Oh fuck, Yu- Daddy, she's so wet, she wants to cum so bad," he nearly slips up as his own brain short circuits, humping his back and clawing at yours.

      He feels your pain, he has empathy as you cry into his neck, "p-please!" Yunho likes to test you both every so often and see just how long you can hold back without releasing until he says so. But he never says so. He goes and goes and fucks and fucks and fucks until you're forced to cum even without permission, taking a sadistic joy in punishing you for inevitably cumming. It doesn't matter if you held out for one hour or five, he still humiliates you for cumming before he does: especially since you've began streaming. It makes his heart and cock soar to the heavens to make his Babies beg for his forgiveness infront of a live audience, asserting his dominance and near ownership of you both.

"Did I stutter? Do as you're told, Princess," he growls into your chest, a smirk growing on his lips as another whimper sounds from the both of you, "and Min?"

"Yes, Daddy?" He responds eagerly, hands sliding from your back to his stomach, sandwiched between your sweaty bodies as they move in a burning lust.

"Stop humping me and go get our Princess' toy," the mention of it has you writhing, pushing on his shoulders and begging to just cum already.

A blush on his cheeks at the fact that the entire 1,036 viewers now know he was grinding on Yunhos back, he slides off the bed and to the dresser on the other side of the room.

A bright pink rabbit vibrator in his hands, he stands just out of frame as Yunho gets a grip on your hips and pulls you off of him with a pop. "Please, please- just let me cum on your cock, I've been so good!" Your pleading doesn't get you any sympathy from your Daddy, and only gets more pings sounding from the laptop.

He flips you off of him, crawling over you and up your body until his wet cock sits on your cheek. The audience can just see your jaw, lips trembling as you open them to speak. "Can I suck?"

They see Mingi crawl between your legs, keeping his head between your thighs to stay hidden from the side view they have. Yunho grabbing the base of his thick member and tapping the leaking tip on your flushed face. Your fingers gripping the sheets as a vibrating sound starts.

"Daddy, n-no, please don't make him, I want to cum so bad, I won't be able to hold back!" His free hand comes down and cups your jaw gently, sliding his thumb into your begging mouth.

"Go ahead, Min."

Your whine of protest dies down when he slips his tip into your mouth, letting you suck at your own pace as he strokes your cheek. It's almost therapeutic, sucking at him like he's the sweetest lollipop on Earth.

And then your own pleasure returns, making your eyes roll back as Mingi presses the head of the vibrating toy into your gaping cunt. The moans you let out around him makes him grip the headboard, pressing his hips down and making you take more. "Be good, Baby. Don't cum, just take it."

    "Mmhmp," the muffled response makes him chuckle deeply, looking over his shoulder at his other baby- who's in a trance watching your cunt swallow the silicone up greedily and clenching when the extension presses onto your clit.

     "Minnie." His head snaps up just as he's going to pull the toy out and start fucking you on it, his hand slipping and pressing it deep into you as he makes eye contact with Yunhos dark gaze.

     "Daddy?"

  "If you make her cum we can fuck however you like, yeah?" It's just a small thing, really. Mingi knows he'll be able to cum his brains out before the session is over- but to do it in his favorite way? His favorite position? He has to grind down on the bed to relieve the throbbing of his member at the very thought.

"I- fuck, really Daddy?" His hands get back to work before he even gets a reply, fucking the toy into you with a new vigor at the promise of his favorite position.

The way you moan and gag around him makes it hard for Yunho to respond -this being his favorite position- but he gives him a simple "Yes, Baby."

     When he turns back to you, looking down at you as he fucks your mouth, your suspicion that he said that just to make you cum without his permission is etched into stone. He smirks as you begin moaning uncontrollably, the smooth silicone and the way Mingi works it in and out of you and the intense vibration on your begging insides and clit makes it all too hard to hold back- but you do. You look up at him defiantly, as mean as you can as you're gagging on his girth.

    "Awwe~" he coos, slapping your cheek lightly, "you keep acting like a brat and I'll take you over my lap right now, I don't care how many people are watching." He pulls his member from your mouth and sits on your chest, nowhere near his full weight but it makes your head fuzzy all the same. The next slap is a tad harder, "you dirty slut, bet you like having an audience, hmm? Like people seeing how good your boyfriends fuck you?"

     "Daddy!" You call out as you pant, slapping his thighs, "please, please! N- cum!" Your moans make Mingi grind down on the bed harder. He's making you feel so good, he can tell. He's watching so close as you leak around the toy and the way your stomach rises and falls quickly as you try and hold back. He holds the extension it off of your clit and replaces it with his warm tongue, a content groan bubbling up his throat that makes you cum on the spot. "Fuck, fuck, Minnie st-ah!"

You squirt on his face in front of all 1,604 viewers, nails digging into Yunhos thighs as your peak hits you, the toy incessantly vibrating against your swollen walls as Mingi laps at your clit like a man starved and Yunhos fat cock leaks against the column of your breast, his weight keeping you still as you writhe. Mingi's big hands grip your hips, making out with your clit as you continue to unravel, the clenching and wetness of your heat making the toy slide out.

He takes advantage of that and latches onto your abused sex, suckling and licking and nibbling everywhere as you come down. "M-minnie, stop it," your voice is small and wavering as overstimulation settles in, but he doesn't care as he swallows up all of your juices eagerly. "Daddy, s'too much, make him stop!" He sits up and off the bed immediately as you tap his thighs, grabbing the back of Mingi's neck and pulling him away, his tongue still lapping even as he yanked away.

     "What a good boy, you were so good you made her cum," his praise goes straight to his neglected length, making him twitch as he leans into his hold, uncaring as he looks like a scolded kitten in the eyes of the viewers. The way your juices flow down his chin and neck, sliding down his heaving, toned chest as he's held back from devouring you makes the chat explode with activity.

      "Fuck now Daddy," he moans breathlessly as he licks his lips clean, "me in her, you in her. Need it." His short, feral words make the both of you realize what he means. It's his all time favorite place to be. In all the places he traveled, his favorite is pressed close to the two of his most prized loved ones in the most intimate way he can think of, in the safety of his home.

    Even before you began streaming some of your sex life, it made him cum immediately every time and his libido through the roof as he begged and begged to stay there and keep fucking just like that for hours on end until his balls were aching and even then some.

Yunho wordless climbs back into bed behind Mingi, pushing him forward as he caresses his hips. A single kiss on his neck has him reeling, falling over you just how the stream had started-

His large frame covering yours, arms wrapped around your head as his cock slips in with the guidance of Yunhos warm hand.

"Slow Baby, you licked our Princess' brain out," he chuckles as he slides his hands over his hips and to your thighs, holding them apart as Mingi begins thrusting in a wild manner- opposite of Yunhos instructions. "Isn't he so big, Babygirl?"

     A simple broken curse is his response, "f-uck!"

    "N'cum, Daddy," Mingi pants, clawing at your head as he fucks as deep as humanly possible, banging against your cervix and nearly painting your womb as Yunho licks the shell of his ear.

    "Stop." It's as if the world stops when Yunho speaks, all movements paused as he uses his authoritative tone. The slapping of skin stops, replaced with both of your heavy breathing and your whimpers.

Mingi growls into your ear, insides burning as he forces his pleasure to a halt, glaring back at Yunho. "Daddy," he bellows, "I need to fuck her."

"You can wait."

"N-"

"Lay back." Despite the clear tension in his body, Mingi rolls off of you and begins fisting himself while your juices are still warm. "Don't cum."

"I want to cum inside of my girlfriend," he snaps back, holding himself back from tackling Yunho as he lifts you away from his side like a rag doll. He knows he's not the one in control, but his instincts are telling him above all else to simply fuck your brains out and then let Yunho do the same to him.

"Ah," Yunhos dark chuckle is so rough compared to how he turns you around to face Mingi and rests your back on his chest, treating you like a porcelain statue as he kneads your breasts in his hands, engulfing them completely, "your girlfriend? Baby-"

"Yes, I want to fucking fill her up."

"Minnie!" You gasp scandalized, like you didn't just squirt on his face for an audience.

"I want my cum dripping out for days, need-"

"Baby!" Yunho yells lowly, shutting him up. "Deep breaths, calm your brat ass down and then we can fuck our girlfriend."

"M'sorry, Daddy." No he's not. He's only speaking his mind- no matter how feral that mind is at the moment. "Want to fuc-"

    "I don't care what whores want." He growls, clearly spotting that his sub-space is slipping away with how badly he just wants to have cum every where. "You were doing so good, Babyboy. You made our little Princess cum, you fucked her for so long earlier- tsk. And here I was thinking I would reward you." He drags his hands all over your body as he speaks, drowning in the both of your fucked out presences so deeply that he forgets you're streaming. "My sweet boy was replaced by a cum whore."

Mingi whimpers loudly, thrown back into the submissive deep end as Yunho makes you crawl over his hips, guiding you down back onto his cock. "Do you want our Minnie-ah to fill you up first before Daddy joins?"

     "Fuck, Princess, please! Please let me!" Mingi grabs at your body roughly, eyes watery as he looks up beggingly.

      "Yea-"

    Yunho slams your hips together, a scream of pleasure ripping through both of you as his fat tip knocks into your deepest insides. "Ah ah, Ming-" One of his hands leaves your hips and cups your mouth quickly, leaving Mingi to his own devices to make himself cum inside of you.

      "Careful, Babygirl," he coos darkly as he holds you in place for Mingis wild and uncoordinated thrusts, muffling all of your moans as your brain goes dumb and makes you yell out their names. "Such a pretty pair," he moans as he watches his hips bang into yours intently, "good fucking sluts for Daddy, hm?"

You can only respond with moaning and drooling into his hand, but Mingi yells out all of your thoughts. "Fuck, shit, yes! Yes, we're good sluts, we're your good sluts, Daddy's good fuck toys!"

All 4,264 viewers watch as he fucks into you harshly one last time, listening as you squeal out muffledly.

A single moment passes before Yunhos cock is prodding at your stretched hole, fucking into you and joining Mingi with a loud grunt. He grabs your hips roughly once again, fucking into your spent cunt with ease.

"P-please, mercy," you call out as you fold onto Mingi, wetness dripping out of you and soaking everything near.

It feels too good, so good. Mingis warm cum lubing up your insides for the intense stretch of the two goliaths you call your boyfriends. Mingi settled against your g-spot as Yunho tries to fuck his way into your guts. Both of their moans and pants and groans, Mingis feral growling as he wraps his big arms around your waist. "No mercy," his voice barely reaches into your fuzzy head.

"Minnie is right, Princess," he speaks with a slap to your behind, "no mercy."

And there was none, they fucked into you until you were a drooling, begging, sopping wet mess. Both of their cum continual mixed into you with their untamed thrusts. Your clit buzzing and ass sore from your Daddy's punishment. Your back covered in scratches from how long gone Mingi was. The laptop was no doubt overheating as it streamed nonstop for over three hours, viewer count now in the hundred thousands and pinging like crazy with donations, even as the three of you slump onto each other tiredly with the last of your brains calling out to one another.

"My Babies," Yunho speaks softly as he massages your red behind tenderly, watching with a fucked out smile as you nibble at Mingis neck lovingly.

"Daddy," the two of you chime together, clinged to each other for dear life as Yunhos thick member moves a fraction of an inch. "Noooo, stay," Mingi whimpers softly, pressing his cock closer to his in the mess of your cunt.

"I'll be back in just a moment, Sweet Boy, take care of our Princess," he leans and kisses both of your heads as he pulls out. He never lets the stream run as he clean you up, as he takes care of you both. That's too intimate to share with the world, too special.

His cock drips all of your fluids on the bed as a final, new ding sounds out. One that you've never heard before.

You all tiredly turn and look, eyes going wide at the notification on the screen. Jaws dropped at the amount a stranger had just gifted.

your.captain tipped $450

Let me join next time ;)

-

[lunarflux]

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

part 3: truth in spirit

word count: 1,171

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

"I go out of town for two bloody weeks because you wouldn't cease to be insufferable, insisting I go on holiday -" Polly's grip on her cigarette tightened. She shut her eyes in frustration as if trying to sum up all that's happened into one sentence was quickly eating away at her sanity. "- and suddenly that fucking informant you pulled from the river is running the place."

Tommy held his glass, nearly empty, up to his nose. He let the soft burn of whiskey fill his lungs before responding. "She's not from the river, Pol. And she's not an informant. She's a bookie."

"Under whose payroll, Thomas? Whose books does she run?"

"Her own," Tommy muttered before throwing back the last of his drink, "doesn't really play well with others, that one."

Polly chuckled at the madness of it all. She pulled up a chair and sat across from him, eyes down to the table as she carefully decided what questions needed to be asked to fully understand what had transpired while she was away.

"No argument then? So, she is running the place."

"She's useful to me."

"Don't fucking lie to me. Lie to yourself for all I care," she scoffed. "Arthur told me what happened the other day. With those boys from London. She rattled you."

"She was supposed to stay hidden."

It had been your choice to handle the last situation, and you’d taken control in a way that caught even him off guard. What started as his order quickly became your game. The way you came in silently—a cold negotiation that left them cowed, without ever firing a shot or lifting a finger—shifted the air. They’d left the room looking to him for validation, but they’d taken orders from you. He might have told them to get out, but it was only after you said it first.

That moment returned to him now, the realization sinking like a weight in his chest. He’d always been in control, always the one to make the calls, pull the strings. But with you, no.

This isn’t loyalty, he thought, the concept cold and cutting. You don’t follow his orders; you interpret them. You played the moves he maps out, but on your own time, under your own circumstances. You maneuvered people—him included—as if you were making sure they stayed within the boundaries of a game only you understood.

He lit a cigarette, dragging in a lungful of smoke. His mind reeled, tracing over your every action, every look you’d given him. That slight smirk, the kiss on the cheek that was almost mocking, like you knew something he didn’t. And you did. Because while he was so caught up in his attempts to keep the room under his heel, you’d positioned yourself as the source of unearthly gravity that kept them all pinned to the floor.

“So, she is the one pulling the strings, is she?” Polly said, her tone casual but with an all-knowing edge. "No, too easy... Maybe she's just pulling your strings."

Tommy’s jaw tightened, a flicker of annoyance passing through him, but he didn't deny it.

Polly gave a low, humorless chuckle, shaking her head. “You should have seen this coming,” she said, stepping forward. “You’ve brought her in to work for you, but she’s not here to follow orders, Tommy. She's here to test you - test us. Whether you like it or not, she's reshaping your territory with her pretty little finger.”

He flicked ash from his cigarette, his voice controlled. “She’s useful to us. Even a blind man could see that.”

“Oh, she’s more than that.” Polly’s eyes narrowed. “She’s here for something else. Might be she’s got you wrapped around that same pretty finger, and you're too thickheaded to admit it.”

Tommy scoffed, leaning back in his chair, but the dismissal didn't have its usual conviction. “You think I’m that easy to manipulate?”

Polly’s gaze hardened. “Not easy, no. But you’re a man, and men have a tendency to underestimate certain kinds of people. You think she’s just here to take care of business? She’s here to test you, to see what you’re really made of. You pulled her from the shadows, and you have yet to deliver your end of the deal. She would not have allowed herself to align with you unless she was waiting for something.”

Tommy stayed silent, his expression guarded, but Polly read him all the same.

“She’s not loyal to you, not yet,” Polly continued, voice dropping lower. “And she won’t be—not unless you can prove that you’re worth it. I saw the way she looked at you during the meeting this morning. Calculating, studying your every move, every inflection of your voice that others would never otherwise detect. She’s deciding if she wants to play by your rules or if she’ll make you follow hers.”

Tommy’s fingers tightened around his glass, and he met Polly’s stare head-on. “You think I don’t know how to control someone like her? You think I have to, what, spend my time trying to prove something to her?”

“I think,” Polly said, leaning in closer, “that she’s got you doing exactly what she wants. You’re so used to leading, Tommy, you don’t even realize when someone else has started to steer.”

She paused, letting the words sink in, watching his expression shift as the weight of her words takes hold.

“She’s here for something,” Polly whispered with a hint of warning. “She’s clever enough to have worked her way into your business, but if you keep pushing without giving her what she wants, you’re going to regret it. And don’t make the mistake of thinking that she’s here for you. She’s here for power. Or loyalty. Something that you can’t just give with a few good words and a share of the profit. She wants something intangible, and she'll make sure it'll be painful for you to give it.”

Tommy remained silent, the gears turning in his mind, calculating, reassessing.

Polly sighed, standing straight again, her arms dropping to her sides. “Maybe you can have her on your side, Tommy. But you’ll have to prove you’re not just another man who thinks he can control her.”

With that, she left him alone with his thoughts, her footsteps echoing as she exits. Tommy sat there, motionless, staring at the spot where Polly stood. The silence felt heavier, the room smaller, and the realization more profound.

You’d already taken the lead, he realized, and he’d been too focused on using everything you offered to see it. The subtle gestures, the quiet manipulations, the way you brushed off his attempts at intimidation with an almost amused indifference. He had mistaken it all as loyalty waiting to be earned, but now he understood. You were here for control. And somehow, you already had it.

But if you expect loyalty to be his debt to repay, he’d have to find a way to make sure it’s a debt you can’t walk away from easily.

[yandere-kokeshi]

your yandere price was sooo good 😭

can i please request some yandere ghost? maybe reader is a young spec ops soldier who’s really damn good at their job and the typical obsessive behavior ensues but reader is a really stubborn and prideful person so they just fight against him at every turn

— Stubborn

Warnings: slight violence at the start, Ghost being angry, intense makeout scene (I tried!) And love confession.

A/N: Thank you!! Please enjoy this fic, and I may or may not be barking for this man ^^! This is also male reader. Hope that's okay :].

You're code-name is Cobra. While I thought it fit, in future fics, I may change it to a more gn name.

“I told you to stay in the goddamn post!”

His exploding voice echoed throughout the entire room. You flinched at his suddenly changed voice, watching the invisible steam come out of his back like a dragon ready to set fire to a poor village.

Angered. That was his emotion. He was shooting a sharp, repetitive scowl. He’s holding back, cracking his knuckles, hands clenching against one another before uttering something under his breath now and again.

It’s chilling — terrifying even.

Normally, he was quiet and nice with you — at least to some degree. But today you fucked up.

You watched him turn around, facing the big window in the room, admiring the midnight sky and moon. To some degree, it helps cool off the sweat on your body.

Or try to. It certainly did not help with the anger in the room.

Rolling your eyes, you got up from the chair beside the desk in the room, standing up behind him.

“I’m completely fine.” You raised your arms, dangling them around to show him that no cuts or even bruises were forming on your body. “We finished the mission. That’s all that matters, yeah?”

You heard him scoff, “All that matters?” He shifts on his feet, turning to look at you with a glare.

“I gave you an order. ” He stepped closer towards your direction. “A specific — detailed order to not engage unless I worded!”

With each word, he came forward until he was right in front of you, intimidating you with his darkened-brown eyes.

“I–” You started, before flopping your arms to the side in defeat. You looked at the ground before looking back at him.

“I’m sorry.” You offered pathetically. You saw his eyes twitch — clearly not believing the word you gave out. “I did a stupid stunt. I’m sorry, Ghost.”

“Cobra!” You heard him scream at you, demanding you to turn back and return to your hidden spot. “Cobra! Get your bloody ass out of there!”

Indeed, Ghost ran a tight mission. But when it came out of line, he got extremely serious and violent.

“Keep them off my trail!” You yelled at the radio, hearing Soap curse on the other end. You fired your gun, emptying bullet after bullet into their skulls with near-perfect aim.

Although, without moving a muscle, you could hear his footsteps — thundering right behind you.

Before you knew it, you were pulled away into a random room with a very angry Simon. Legs growing in pain and a yelling leader in your face;

You were simply doing your job, right?

“Yet, you didn’t back out.” He growled, pointing a finger in your face harshly. “You could’ve died!”

“But I didn’t.” You sneered back. “You should be grateful I took them down — killed them all before they killed the hostages!”

“Shut it.” He snapped.

“Really? Why should I? I mean—” You scoffed, “Your the one who decided to come and grab me, push me away when I was alright!” You growled, poking a finger into his chest.

“Then fucking listen. It’s my job to make sure you’re breathing.”

“Really?” You ushered. “Cause if I didn’t do that, there would have been a bullet between all of their eyes!”

Suddenly, you were forced against the wall, watching his gaze tighten and his tattooed arm being pushed up against your neck. You jumped at the loud bang in your ears, mouth going dry.

You could practically hear Simon’s heartbeat — flaming in waves like lava rushing over land.

Your blood was boiling. Fists and legs tingling in frustration. Eyes narrowing in.

“I’m not scared of you, Simon,” You answered, “Wanna hit me? Don’t be a bitch about it.”

You stared into his eyes, hearing him breathe heavily before feeling his arm release you, resting right beside him. “You need to understand that you should come first.”

Your chest heaved, head pounding in adrenaline and annoyance.

“Then, we have two different views.” You rasped. Watching him lean back, his eyes staring into your soul. “My job is protecting people. And I’m damn good at it, so I’m not gonna stand here and let you shit me down.”

You heard him scoff. “Doing it stupidly isn’t protecting people.”

“Then why are you here, Simon?” You snarled, leaning forward to him. Though, you didn’t see him flinch or move an inch. Rather than letting you challenge him by getting in his personal space.

“You’re on some real thin ice, Cobra” He snapped.

You snickered, digging a finger at his chest. “Or what? You gonna hit me, L.T.? Go ahead, I’d love to see you try.”

“You don’t see it, do you?” He angrily blurted out.

“Wha–”

He gripped your shoulders, forcing you to make direct eye contact with him. “You can congratulate yourself all you want. But you need to realize the team almost — I… almost lost you”

You couldn’t think, nor anticipate his next move. What did he mean by that damn sentence?

But when his hand on your shoulder was removed, rolling his mask upward, and revealing his scarred face. You were hotly flustered and surprised.

His chapped lips — scarred nose, eyebrows, and greased smoked paint around his eyes. His soulless, brown-marked eyes were staring down at you. Hell, even his browned hair was somehow styled and perfectly cleaned. What the actual fuck.

He raised an eyebrow at your flustered face, “Cat got your tongue?”

His other hand gripped your jaw, thumb caressing your chin, pulling you into a hypnotic haze.

Pulling his face closer to yours, you didn’t expect to see or feel his skin — his stubbled jaw, his lips against yours, swallowing your fury.

He tasted sweet, almost too sweet for an angry and dangerous man.

Moaning into the kiss, you felt a smirking plaster against his face. Fuckin’ teaser.

You couldn’t breathe — think properly by his addictive smell and taste. His scent was calming, a calm that wasn’t needed now.

His free hand grabbed your side, pulling you closer into the touched makeout, making you feel his chest heave into yours. Slowly, your hand raised, dragging your fingertips into his slick and semi-wet hair, locking them between your fingers.

Kissing him tenderly, you felt him stiffen — slightly unsure how to proceed with this… ‘debrief’

But, he welcomed it a second later, grasping your jaw as his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring your cavern. Earning a small whine, he departed himself from you with a trail of saliva.

Pulling away, you both looked like a mess; the two of you acted like you had an intense wrestling match, with hair slightly messed up, ragged breathing, and shaky gasps that certainly would be heard from outside the room.

Suddenly, Ghost grabs you, pulling you into his chest as your head rested against him, hearing his pounding heart and heavy breathing.

“I know you’re bloody good at your job. Jus’... never fucking do that again.”

You narrowed your eyes, feeling butterflies form in your stomach. “Didn't expect you to love me.”

You heard him mumble something, but from the shift on his feet, you already knew the answer.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

—

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